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The first time Nux met the infamous Coma-Doof Warrior, he wouldn’t have recognized him if it wasn’t for the ridiculous red onesie and giant boots.
Nux was heading back to the bunks after a supply run when the weirdest music he had ever heard drifted to his ears. It was…light, quiet, and like nothing he had heard before. Naturally, he followed it to its source and found the Doof Warrior reclining comfortably against a sunlit wall, the window in front of him letting in a gentle breeze. It was a nice little causeway, and Nux realized he had never been there before. The floor was sandy from disuse.
The guitarist was much shorter than he had thought, and looked decidedly less intimidating without his usual pointed mask. A strip of cloth, red like his outfit, was tied around his eyes, bald head reclining against the stone behind him. He was strumming on a little instrument; it looked vaguely like the big guitar he played on raids, but tiny in comparison and wooden, patched with bits of metal here and there.
“Hey there, War Boy,” he said, his voice a lilting rasp. Nux started slightly, and the Warrior laughed. His teeth were filed to points. “I’m blind, not deaf, Boy. Sit.”
Solemnly deciding the Coma-Doof Warrior was insane, Nux settled underneath the window across from the musician, who never stopped picking out quiet melodies on the instrument in his hands. “What is that?” Nux asked, only half expecting an answer.
“It’s called a ukulele. Basically a mini guitar. I’m sure you’ve heard of those?”
Nux nodded, then suddenly realized his mistake and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, those I’ve heard of. So does this shoot flames too?”
The Warrior chuckled again, baring his teeth. “No. But it does have these.” He flipped the instrument around, revealing an honestly impressive collection of throwing knives strapped to the back. Nux swallowed.
“Um…how do you use those? When you- When you can’t-”
“Don’t need to see, Boy. I can hear and feel. I’m good with vibrations.” He went back to playing the ukulele, fingers flitting around on the strings with much more grace than they showed on the double-necked flamethrower he usually played.
Nux was completely perplexed. Of all the things he had been expecting if he ever met the Coma-Doof Warrior, this was the last thing. The musician was completely relaxed, perfectly content just playing this weird little instrument like he wasn’t stuck in a war-studded wasteland or wasn’t frequently strapped to the front of an enormous death-trap-turned-stage on wheels egging on violence without a care in the world.
“What’s your name?” Nux suddenly blurted. He was honestly curious. Surely…
“Doof. Fits. What’d they call you?”
“Nux.”
“Like Nuts?” Doof looked up with a grin, covered eyes fixing right on Nux’s face. It was an eerie feeling, but the guitarist’s words broke any tension Nux might have felt. He laughed instead. “What’s funny?”
“Nothin’. That’s just what my mate calls me sometimes.”
A comfortable silence fell over the pair. It was weird, Nux thought; he had never met anyone like this little musician. He just seemed out of place.
“How did you get here anyway? Where did you get that? What’re those songs?” The questions flowed out before Nux could stop them, but Doof didn’t seem phased. He didn’t smile again though.
“It’s not that complicated, really. My mother was killed when I was young. This was hers; she taught me to play it, taught me some songs. The rest I just come up with, though I usually just play whatever sounds good at the time. I didn’t have anything else to do after she died, so I just found a place to sit and started to play. It was hard to get around anyway, being short and blind. Not many instruments around these days, so when the Immortan heard me, he asked if I wanted to play on the Doof Wagon. I said yes. Simple as that.”
Nux was wide-eyed by the end of this story. “The Immortan himself talked to you?” Doof nodded. “And you’re not the least bit impressed with that?”
“I’ve never even seen the guy. I just wanna play music, and I’d rather be up here or on the Wagon with the wind on me then stuck down there worrying about all those people bein’ bad.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
“Not really,” Doof said, his smile returning as he rolled to his feet in one fluid motion, the melody drifting from underneath his fingers never faltering. “Get back to the bunks, Nux. Your mate’s probably waitn’ for you.”
Nux nodded, pushing himself up a lot less gracefully that the musician. “Yeah, alright. I’ll…see you around then?” He flinched at the choice of words, but Doof didn’t comment.
“Yeah, probably. You seem weirdly civilized.” Still strumming contentedly, Doof turned away and began ambling down the darkening corridor. Nux watched his back for a minute, not bothering to correct his observation.
“Where’re you going?”
“I dunno,” Doof responded. “I can’t see, remember?” He then turned a corner and disappeared.
Nux stood, rooted in place, till the last strains of music trailed off behind the guitarist. He scratched his head, then shoved his hands in his pockets and started slowly back towards the bunks, the gentle melodies of the Coma-Doof Warrior still floating around in his head.