Murdoc was in his studio apartment pacing back in forth fiddling with the blunt in between his fingers you were an accident that much a product of his one many one night stands that resulted into your mom leaving you he smokes the blunt and rocks your crib every now and then to keep you quiet. Murdoc looked down at you this was his new life no more band, no more adventures, no more drugs just you and a father who was nowhere near equipped to deal with you “Are you still up, ya little bastard?”