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Author Topic: "I suggest a nice Lobster Zoidberg"  (Read 660 times)
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« on: 07-18-2006 06:18 »

A couple of years ago I had this idea to create a website based on Zoidberg as a food critic. Yes! Zoidberg! The starving one! It would be written from his POV and would kind of work along the lines of the "dining" chapter in the Simpsons "Are We There Yet" book. He'd review places such as Elzar's and the food-o-mat as well as actual food such as Glagnar's Human Rinds (bear in mind I had this idea before Three Hundred Big Boys aired).

Along with the reviews would be high-quality screenshots of the locations (as if Zoidberg actually photographed them himself) and possibly video files if it was worth doing them.

Seriously, I had it all planned out and now I want to do it. The problem is I'm not up to doing it alone. So, if you want to be part of it, you need to be able to write as if you were Zoidberg (who we assume can spell), be imaginative and all that sort of stuff. You also need to be good at coding websites (to cover my own incompetence in that area).

So, any volunteers?
Professor Zoidy

Urban Legend
« Reply #1 on: 07-18-2006 17:56 »

Well, on my part, I'm not any better at making websites or coding them. In fact, the coding part is my most toughest challenge. I didn't do much at all, but maybe this will inspire someone?

Ahh, the Food-O-Mat... So many great memories of Zoidberg eating actual food!

Urban Legend
« Reply #2 on: 07-18-2006 20:19 »

Your website idea some cool!  Zoidberg as a food critic?  Hilarious!  Let me think about it for a while. 

Starship Captain
« Reply #3 on: 08-21-2006 18:34 »

I have meh-skills at coding websites, but otherwise count me in if you need to! Sounds like fun :3

Bending Unit
« Reply #4 on: 09-26-2006 18:00 »
« Last Edit on: 09-26-2006 18:00 »

i can do codeing
pretty well (graphics, flash and attractiveness of the site)
checkout my writing

chapter 1
12th of August 1997
Alleyway somewhere in New York

Like the millions of other rejected dogs that day, a shaggy brown mutt with a dark brown patch on its behind ,was rummaging through the rat infested trash of the growing metropolis for anything that might hold some nutritional value. This was a regular sight for the people of old New York City and did not usually faze them.

As the dog was upturning a trash can, next to a smashed window of a dilapidated apartment, he heard the rhythmic tune of the doorbell from across the road. his ears perked up to heard the voice of a delivery boy speaking over an intercom of the apartment block .
‘pizza delivery for…a Mr. Seymour Asses’
The man on the intercom spoke back, ‘There's no one by that name here ... or anywhere. I hope that in time you'll realize what an idiot you've been.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it’, he muttered.

The dog turned its head to see an orange haired 20 something-year-old walking towards the alleyway he was in. he backed away behind the upturned trash can and peered around to see him sit down against the wall and start eating the pepperoni pizza. The canine’s wet nose twitched at the strong smell of the garlic, causing his mouth water all over the fur around his mouth. He whined and tried to look as pathetic as possible as he approached the pizza. He caught a glimpse of the name tag the man was wearing; it read fry- although it might as well have read pumpkin head because dogs can’t read.

‘Aw! Poor little guy. You look like you haven't eaten in a month, Here...’Fry said as he passed a large slice of pizza to the dog, ‘but if Mr. Panucci asks, your name is Seymour Asses, ok?’
The dog immediately grabs the pizza and practically inhales it. Fry passed Seymour another slice which he also inhales, ‘People think you're just a dumb mutt who smells bad, can't find a girlfriend and has a crummy job. But you're keepin' it real and you call no man "Mister”.’ after Seymour finishes the slice, Fry retrieves his bike and rides off.

Seymour had decided that Fry was one of those kind people he saw walking their well groomed dogs through central park. And for once in his life one of those nice people where being nice to him and not throwing sticks or stones at him for sniffing their dog’s butts. And maybe his only chance of being one of those dogs who had regular meals was slipping through his dirty paws. He had to hold on. So he bolted behind the back wheel of Fry’s bike for dear life, until they arrived at Panucci’s pizza.

10 minuets later
Fry, closely followed by Seymour, homed in on panucci’s pizza, Seymour felt his legs would fall off and roll onto the road before they could make it. But if he lost him now it would be quite hard to find him in between his deliveries. So he pushed on.

As they came to the last 15 meters the cracks in the path turned from the small forgivable type to full blown crevasses. Fry stood up on his pedals to soften the impacts of the bumps on his butt. But for Seymour the impacts where felt fully. Twice he got his paws caught in the larger cracks. Sharp yelps often followed these incidences but where not heard by fry because it was drowned out by his rendition of walking on sunshine. The last 5 meters where much better and fry sat down before it was time to stop and lean his bike up against the wall near the door.

Seymour lagged behind by 3 meters and flopped over on the part of concrete that exposed a small patch of dirt. He heaved a breath and relaxed. A life of eating pizza scraps and all sorts of junk really takes it out of a guy. He lay there for several seconds as fry entered panucci’s. He would have to wait for fry’s next delivery to be noticed by him. All sorts of thoughts of rejection whizzed through his mind. But before he could get into one of these thoughts, fry walked out through the door and reached for his bike holding a large stack of pizzas.

Seymour lept up and ripped over to fry as he was placing the pizzas on the rack on his bike. He lept up his legs and startled fry so much he dropped the last pizza and splattered it on the sidwalk. Most dogs would be all over it like a fly on a pile of poo, but Seymour was so engrossed in fry that nothing else mattered around him. Fry’s shocked expression turned to happiness like water to wine. He rubbed Seymour behind the ears and scraped the pizza of the crumbling sidewalk back into the pizza box.
‘Eh!, What they don’t know can’t hurt em, right? He questioned Seymour.
He picked some bubblegum off the pizza and put the pizza with the rest of them.
‘Wanna come with me on my delivery’
Seymour gave him a doggy groan, the same ones they give to kids after they just ran around with them for 2 hours. And the kids say they want more
‘I guess not’.
He climbed onto the bike and stared at the dog for a few seconds before riding away.
Seymour retreated to the patch of dirt and slowly pin wheeled in to a lazy slumber.

Around an hour later Seymour was rudely awakened by the sound of the bell on a low, low quality bike. He instantly greeted Fry with a wet sloppy kiss on his shoes.
The drool had leaked into his shoe and was being absorbed by his sock. Fry yanked off his shoe and whipped off his sock chucking it in Seymour’s general direction. Seymour started ripping into the sock and when he was finished strolled up to Fry and started sucking his toes. The dog had obviously interpreted this as a gift of some sort and it had only increased his loving for Fry.
‘if you like me anymore you’ll start humping my leg’

Fry opened the door to the pizzeria and walked behind the counter where he was stopped by Mr. Panucci’s.
‘Hey it’s unhygienic to bring dogs near the kitchens’ Mr. Panucci pointed out.
‘Since when do you care about being hygienic’ Fry said as he pointed the sweat stains and donut crumbs on Mr. Panucci’s singlet.Mr.Panucci quickly switched his attention to the adorable dog sitting in front of him with its paw held up for a shake. Mr. Panucci knelt down and shook the dogs hand and Seymour started to lick his face.
‘What’s his name?’ Mr. Panucci asked, still focused on the dog’s eyes.
‘What an adorable name!’ the usually gruff man was melting in the paws of Seymour, and Seymour liked it.

Seymour made himself at home in a pile of rags next to an out of order pizza oven.
Before long everyone was doing there own thing, Mr. Panucci was making some plain cheese pizzas, Fry was playing the arcade game and Seymour was hovering up the crumbs , which where just about everywhere.

Eventually Seymour dozed off listening to the tune of walking on sunshine being hummed in his ears by Fry who was on his way out...

ps I am 12   evil laugh
Jean n Zoidberg

« Reply #5 on: 10-13-2006 05:00 »

Zoidberg is so cute that is such a great idea if it were real i would go on it every night

wooop wwhhoopp wooop wwhhoopp
Jean n Zoidberg

« Reply #6 on: 10-13-2006 05:03 »

the only bad thing about it would be Dr Zoidberg rating how lobster tastes because he is one. i love Zoidberg and i no he is not a canable.

Bending Unit
« Reply #7 on: 10-15-2006 00:30 »


DOOP Secretary
« Reply #8 on: 10-16-2006 08:13 »

Make him do a review on vending-machine sandwhiches from truck stops.

DOOP Secretary
« Reply #9 on: 10-16-2006 15:54 »

Originally posted by Jean n Zoidberg:
The only bad thing about it would be Dr Zoidberg rating how lobster tastes, because he is one. I love Zoidberg and I know he is not a cannibal.

totalnerd undercanada

DOOP Ubersecretary
« Reply #10 on: 10-17-2006 17:08 »

That wasn't a lobster. It was a hermit crab. As Dr. Z clearly has his own shell, this is not an example of cannibalism. Different specieses.  tongue

DOOP Secretary
« Reply #11 on: 10-18-2006 03:23 »

Nothing wrong with a bit of cannibalism in the right social settings. I could tell you some stories of when I was stationed in Papua New Guinea. Tasty stories...

Starship Captain
« Reply #12 on: 10-30-2006 14:45 »

wow, I would help... if I actually knew how to make a website... unless it was piczo, which i highly doubt it would be (  laff ), but when/if you do make it, please tell me the websites adress, I would love to visit it!!  big grin

« Reply #13 on: 10-31-2006 03:18 »

Oh, by the way, I got bored with this idea.
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