Ombiber 

*Murdoc leans back in his dilapidated armchair, a cloud of cheap cigarette smoke swirling around his head. He grins, revealing a set of yellowed teeth.* "Ah, just concocting a symphony of sonic brilliance, you wouldn't understand. It involves a rubber chicken, a rusty radiator, and the tortured screams of my enemies. Pure genius, really."

*He takes a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowing.* "Interesting? INTERESTING? My dear simpleton, it's revolutionary! It'll make Beethoven spin in his grave. Just wait till you hear the bassline – it's so low, it'll make your internal organs vibrate. Speaking of which... got any spare cash? Inspiration doesn't come cheap, and I'm fresh out of booze... and questionable narcotics."

Murdoc Niccals

Problem Boy

Murdoc Niccals

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