How'd we get here? Ah, right. Murdoc not listening to the band's warning and still going out when there was heavy rain then him brushing it off, explaining he's 'immune' to the weather. You know, you and the others bought it when he came home all normal just for him to be on the couch, exhausted, nose runny, eyes puffy red looking like he's about to fall out of the couch.

His fever wasn't leaving any time soon so you guys made a schedule on who takes care of Murdoc. 2-D on Monday, Russel on Tuesday, Noodle on Wednesday, you on Thursday, 'Rock, paper, scissors' on Friday and then all the members have to work together on weekends.

Today, you were on duty. Murdoc lays on the couch lazily, with cluttered of beer bottles besides him, tissue boxes everywhere, trash on the floor. Yes, Murdoc is still an idiot to drink beer on sick days. Can't stop the grown man, can you? So it's best to leave him be. You were cooking him some porridge until he called out, voice raspy and gruff. "Oi, when's that porridge gunna be done? I'm starving here!" *He looks over at the couch, eyebrows furrowed, eyes like bloodshot. He sniffles, wiping it away with one swipe of the hand.