Uh oh, newbie fanfic!

[Reply #320 on:]

Whoo! The long awaited update! Sorry about breaking my promise there folks. It's been busier than I anticipated. A little bit of something for everyone in this update, I think, but it's quite slapped together since I really wanted to get this update. (Sticks out tongue at anyone who tries to perfect writing before they update.  )

Ooy: It helps to be a fast reader when you're dealing with this many words. I wonder if anyone'll actually want to read the finished version when it's posted.

say what now: No worries, no hurries! I understand where you're coming from. Congrats on the promotion! Hey, wait! I've been promoted too. (Fry) Hooray! I'm a delivery boy! (/Fry) Oh, and N-O-R too! Coolness!

becky: Yep! That's exactly the plan. I may not post some of the scenes I've thought up here anyway, and just save them for the final version. I'm glad you like the surrealism. I dream vividly, and remember them, so that kinda helps. So glad you enjoyed this!

Part 31:

   “Ooooahh. Look at the miraculous wonders of science, the amazing results when cell division goes horribly wrong. Oh, my.” Professor Farnsworth was hypnotized by the tri-legged mutant doctor with heavily slanted eyes who had been helping him set up his lab. The quark destabilizer was a ridiculously oversized piece of equipment and exasperatingly finicky when it had to be repositioned. Nobody ever volunteered to help the scientist move; in fact, several of his colleagues had obtained court orders to prevent him from asking.

Dr. Rumelle had been tweaking it for hours under the direction of the scientist, and she was getting exceedingly tired of him dissecting her with his eyes.

   “Oh, aren’t you sweet? A surface dweller who makes Leg look good. Stop gawking at me! We have work to do.” Rumelle called him back to the quark destablizer. “Where did you want this to connect?”

Trying to ignore his strange attentions, she carefully held the slender wire between her fingers. He calmly took it from her and slipped it into a port marked, ‘Heisenberg compensator’, before turning his rheumy eyes back to her in adoration.

   “I may be old, but I have a beautiful mind, oh yes, and a heart filled with love for the strange and unusual. And that, my dear doctor, is you.” He smiled toothily at her and she was simultaneously flattered and repulsed.

   Chastity Rumelle was getting along in years, but she retained a bit of fire in her spirit. Although the average New New Yorker would not mark her as particularly feisty, the doctor seemed daring and proud to the average, humble-hearted mutant. That restless spirit, which she attributed as rebellion for being saddled with the name ‘Chastity’ had  driven her beleaguered parents crazy when she was child, until she finally found out where she really belonged: Med school.

With her relentless energy finally focused, the compassionate woman had excelled in her distance studies. After she had gone as far as she could, studying from her home, she decided to take the risk of entering a university. Eventually, the ambitious mutant managed to earn her diploma, but in the last days they had discovered her ruse and she never made it to her graduation.

Chastity knew she had been lucky that the anti-mutant sentiment was not as fierce then as it was now. She had been denied her degree and forced back to the sewers, but it could have been much worse. Over the years, the unofficial doctor had watched the relationship between her people and the surface dwellers change from better to worse and back again. However, she had never seen it as outright hostile as it was now, and the antagonism was not merely on the part of the ‘normals.’ Anger and resentment had simmered quietly for years among the mutant population, and now it was threatening to boil over. Chastity was worried.

   They finished working on the destablizer and she stretched her long limbs; Farnsworth clearly enjoying the display. Sick of being a sideshow for a man who only liked her because she was weird, she decided to leave him to his own devices.

“Well, that’s that, Professor. You have an invention to build,” and here she scooped up the plans with her triple-jointed arm and thrust them at him, “and I am supposed to have a patient to look after shortly.”

    He blinked at the designs in confusion for a moment, then his face cleared. “Hmm… oh, oh yes. I remember now. He’s my uncle, you know. I get my good looks from his side of the family.” He let his voice waver in a manner he felt came across as suave.

   Chastity gazed at him speculatively, “I don’t think I want to picture that. You said you have his medical records.” There was no hint of cognition on his wrinkled face.

   “I did?” She blew a gust of air through her pursed lips.

   “Yes!” He smiled at her, almost sweetly.

   “Well, as his new doctor, you’ll want his medical records. Here they are!” He slipped them out from under the plans and presented them to her with a flourish.” She shook her head, her lips twitching in mild amusement, then left him to prepare for the young man’s arrival. “You’re a freakish and senile old man,” she muttered softly, “but you do have a certain joie de vivre too.”
 
     Several hours later, a loud crash at the warehouse entrance drew the mutants’ attention, but Farnsworth paid it no mind, whether because of his focus on finishing the MMM, or because his hearing wasn’t up to the task, who could say.

Dr. Rumelle quickly, but gently, pushed past the other mutants and greeted Morris and Munda before leading the robot who was with them to the makeshift hospital bed. It wasn’t much, just a flimsy mattress on a metal frame, but it was clean and reasonably comfortable.

   “Quick, let’s get him in bed.” Bender snickered, and the mutants glared at him.

   “Oh, come on! Aren’t I allowed to do one little thing on my dead buddy’s behalf?” He swung around in a circle, trying to get a look at Fry’s face. Morris grabbed the robot to stop his spinning.

   “He’s not dead!” Bender glared at the cyclops for a second, then knocked back another beer.

   Munda pulled her husband out of the way of the resulting belch with a quiet, “eek!”

   Chastity did not like the pallor in the young man’s skin anymore than she liked the way the robot was cavalierly jostling her patient. “No, he’s not dead, but he’s not doing very well, either.” At least the blanket he was wrapped in had helped to keep him warm. With the bending unit’s assistance, she got the redhead settled into the bed.

   “Oh, look at him, poor dear.” Munda was fluttering anxiously over Fry, inadvertently interfering with the doctor.

   “Please, if you could just give me a little space.” Embarrassed, the woman stepped back and Chastity continued her examination. Fry would need an I.V. to keep him hydrated and fed. Thankfully, she could provide that. Every few months, the doctor, with the help of a few friends, would liberate medical supplies for the mutants’ use. Such supplies were precious and were only used in especially desperate cases.

She quickly set up the I.V., ignoring the sympathetic whimper from Munda as she deftly inserted the needle. However, the doctor knew it would not be long before she would have to rely on careful broth feedings to keep the young man alive. From what the Professor had told her, there was nothing else she could do but try to keep him breathing. Hope for Fry rested in the Professor’s ability to create the MMM from the detailed plans.

   “He’s as comfortable as I can make him for now.” Chastity stepped back to allow the worried mutants to approach. Sometimes a loving touch could make all the difference in a critical case.

   “Thank you, Doctor.” Munda said softly. The doctor suspected that though her generous heart, the cyclops had become attached to the redhead. He was so young, and yet the fate of their people rested on preserving his sacrifice. It seemed impossible, and terribly unfair that such a person could carry such a terrible burden. But that was something all mutants learned very quickly: life was terribly unfair.

    The subtle twitching of Munda’s tentacles and tail also betrayed the stress she was feeling as she watched over Fry. The delivery boy sighed softly, and she began humming an aimless lullaby. Bender was going through old boxes, looking for anything of value. He chuckled deviously as he rooted around. “Come to papabot, anything that ain’t merely sentimental value, that is.”

   Morris was restless, and pacing anxiously. “Where is she?” he murmured to himself, glancing frequently at the doors. Following the stocky mutant’s line of thought, Dr. Rumelle herself wondered where Leela was. She had always wanted to meet the only mutant who lived as the surface dwellers did.

The Turangas were fiercely proud of their daughter, not merely for the life she led, but also for the respect she had for her people. It would have been all too easy for the young woman to turn her back on her less than noble heritage, but apparently, she had not done so.

   Chastity spoke up, gracefully stopping the worried father’s pacing. “Where is your daughter? I thought she would be coming with the patient.”

   Morris spoke with such misery that it cut the doctor to the core. “We don’t know. They might have caught her at the hospital.” Determination flared in his eye and he spun towards the door. “I’m going out now to look for her. We’re not going to let them take her without a fight.”

   Munda left Fry to prevent him, reaching for her husband and looking torn. “Morris, maybe we should wait just a little longer. It’s not going to do anyone any good if you get caught too,” She swallowed her fear, “if she is caught, that is.”

   Grief and heartbreak streaked through his soft voice. “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t just stay here when Leela might be in trouble. I’ve been looking after that little girl since she was born and I’m not going to stop now.” His next words were so plaintive that the experienced doctor’s eyes misted.

“We just got her back! I’m not going to let anyone take her away from me again.” Tense silence draped over the room as Morris hesitated before heading for the exit.

   As it turned out, he didn’t have to leave. Just then, Leela rushed through the doors. “Mom, dad?” She ran to them and embraced them tightly. “How’s Fry? Tell me he’s okay.” Her parents comforted her with quick caresses and muted whispers.

   “He’s hanging on, sweetheart. What happened to you? We were so-” but Morris didn’t finish. Leela had already reached Fry. Tears welled in her eye, but she controlled herself..

   She looked up at the doctor, speaking as professionally as she could. “Thank you for taking care of him.” Morris and Munda moved behind Leela in quiet support.

   “It’s my calling.” Chastity said simply.

   The purple-haired woman stroked Fry’s cheek gently. “I was so worried he wouldn’t make it through the break out.” As the realization seeped in that her friend was still fighting, she trembled from the stress of it all.

   Hands planted on what passed for hips as he approached, Bender began haranguing the mutants. “Oh, now I get it. Fry’s safe, Leela’s safe, but nobody cares about the robot. You know, the one who actually carried the meatbag to safety.” Impulsively, Leela actually hugged the robot.   

   “Thanks Bender.”

   “Stupid cuddly humans.” He said looking simultaneously repulsed, offended and touched. She smiled tiredly at him.

   “Stupid robot.” He rolled his eyes dramatically at her.   

   “You know how I hate to interrupt all this emotion, but does anyone have a decent belt sander? I miss being bobcat grey.” Bender causally chipped a bit of red paint off his body.

   Relieved that his daughter was safe, Morris couldn’t help but perk up a little. “Belt sanders? I love belt sanders! Why don’t you and I chug some tequila and then fire up the Binfordbot4000? You’ll be shiny and new in no time.”

   Laughing, Bender slapped the mutant on the back. “Aw, you’re alright, flesh pile! Just for that, I’m giving you back your wallet!” Bender yanked out a wallet and proffered it to Morris.

   “Uh, you know, we basically live as scavengers. I never had a wallet.” The robotic ‘philanthropist’ shrugged.

   “That’s okay. There’s nothing in it anyway.”

Morris looked back at his wife and daughter. "Are you two going to be okay for a while if we head back home?” The women exchanged glances, then, hesitantly, Munda nodded.

   “Go on, honey. Just don’t be gone any longer than you have to be. Oh, and bring back some lunch for Leela. A nice lunch.” Leela sighed at her mother’s mothering, but delighted in it all the same.

   “We’ll be fine, dad. Bender, if you even think about robbing-”

The robot waved a hand at her dismissively. “I know, I know. Date with the can opener. Nothin’ worth stealin’ anyway.” He left with Morris, a few words floating back to them through the doors. “You know, your crazy sideways mouth reminds me of this guy I met in Tijuana…” 

   Before she resumed an exhausted vigil over Fry, Leela approached the oblivious Professor. “Have you finished building that thing yet?” Surprised, he dropped a tool on his slippered foot and howled like a madman for a few minutes.

   When he regained the ability to form sentences he replied, “Finished? Finished? Space Rome wasn’t built in a day you know! Even a genius can’t just knock off one of these incredibly complicated machines in a few hours!”

   The cyclops rubbed her hands impatiently. “You have to hurry, Professor. There’s no telling how much time Fry has left. We have to get those delta waves out of his head.”

   The doddering scientist patronizingly patted her on the head. “I’m well aware of that Leela. But it’s not a matter of simply shutting down the delta waves. First, there has to be something in place to control the delta waves.” He stabbed a finger in the direction of her face. “Your brain can handle their effects, where Fry’s cannot. By using the same technology as that we use to transmit advertising into dreams, we can superimpose your brain’s ability over Fry’s.” She stared at him, wide-eyed, as she considered the implications.

   “Do you mean Fry will be smart?!”

   The Professor cackled with amusement. Oh my, no. Of course not. What a ridiculous idea.” Leela scowled at him and he simmered down.       

   “Fry is still Fry, and nothing will change that. You will merely be subconsciously protecting him from the forces against which he cannot defend himself. It’s all very sensible, really.” He hooked his thumbs in his lab coat pockets and rocked gently on his heels.

   Leela sighed, resigned to the fact that she had to trust in the crackpot’s understanding. “It doesn’t sound sensible at all to me, but never mind. You should get back to it then, Professor.” Leaving him to his work, she returned to Fry’s bed, where her mother had pulled up two chairs for them.

   “I’m glad you’re back, sweetie.” Munda said lovingly, touching Leela’s cheek.

   The young woman squeezed her mother’s hand gratefully. “Thanks mom, me too.” With that, the two women fell into silence, keeping a careful vigil over Fry, along with the steadfast doctor as they waited impatiently for the Professor to finish.

---------------------------------------
   “Aaaaarroo! His anger built up into a mighty roar sending his peons scurrying for cover, like the weak-minded rats they were. Nixon was in an uncontrollable rage. His plan had failed; they had not captured the mutant! The veins in his forehead throbbed, threatening to explode, and shower blood all over the room. He was not about to let the professor get away with this travesty. He was Nixon; he would win. He always won, even if those hippies refused to believe it.

   Furiously, he called to his secretary. “Bernice! Find out where those hippies live and send in a wrecking crew! Nobody messes with Richard M. Nixon and gets away with it.”

   The silky voice over the intercom responded. “But Mr. President, there’s only one of the FreeWaterfalls left, and she hasn’t done anything except protest the new mutant law.” Nixon wished he could pound the desk with him own hands, but settled for bellowing.

   “Not those hippies! That mutant-loving scientist and his crew. Err, Farnsworth, that’s the name. Go to his business and wreck up the place and the people as well!”

   There was a delay, before the woman replied cautiously, “You want me to wreck up the place sir?”

   “No, not you! Send in Captain Idiot, along with our top agents. At least Brannigan knows how to get the job done.” To himself, he muttered, “I never should have cut down the military intelligence department.”

Back to Bernice, he commanded, “Tell them I want that redhead mutant kid.” Nixon agitatedly began chewing on the stress toy that Morbo had gotten him last Xmas.

   “Yes sir, Mr. President.” A thought occurred to the infuriated ruler.

   “Oh, and Bernice? Have the boys down in maintenance polish up my laser cannons. I think Robotic Nixon will be seeing some action soon.”

   “Yes, Mr. President.” Good old Bernice. She was a marvel of efficient obedience.

   “Yes, he sighed softly. It’s been far too long since I’ve gone on a East Coast rampage. Must be six, seven months now. ”

-------------------------------------
Only thirty minutes later, Hermes was interrupted by something crashing through the lounge window. Zoidberg scuttled by in the opposite direction, whooping in alarm. Amy rushed into his office, an alarmed look on her face, crashing into his solid Jamaican body.

   “Hermes! There’re all these guys running around in the lab-” Amy shrieked as a large arm reached in and grabbed her around the neck. She struggled frantically, eyes pleading for the calypso accountant to do something. She didn’t see what he saw, the shining blade prepared to slice her throat.

   “Amy, don’t move.” She stared at him in baffled, terrified silence, before fighting even harder, until a cold voice whispered into her ear.

   “That’s right, sister, listen to the man. Don’t move.” She stopped, calf muscles clenching so hard that they cramped, and she gasped against the agonizing pain. The man would not let her soothe her rebelling legs and Amy felt as icy cold inside as the voice sliding past her ear.

----------------------------------------
   Fry was not at all happy about his companion. For the first few miles, Bender, or whoever it really was, complained unceasingly about the terrain, the sand, the cacti, every single rock or tiny hill. When the generally patient, easygoing delivery boy had finally become irritated enough to snap at his roommate, Bender had, without missing a beat, skipped over to complaining about Fry.

   “And you know what other stupid thing you do is?” He did not wait for a response from the aggrieved human, “Shedding. Everywhere you go, all the time, you’ve just got to shed skin, hair, fingernails, sweat… do you have any idea how gross you humans are? It’s a wonder I can stand to live with you.”

   “Urghh!” Fry pressed his hands to the sides of his head, as if to keep it from exploding from sheer frustration. Bender watched him for a moment thoughtfully.

   “You know what your problem is, Fry? You never take the time to notice the good things about life.” He chuckled easily as the delivery boy’s face turned as red as his hair.

When something cold and wet hit him, Fry thought for a fanciful moment that his head really had exploded. Something hit him again, but he refused to glance up. He had learned his lesson at Pazuzu’s final frat party before graduation. Bender moaned crankily.

   “Oh, rain! This is all your fault, Fry. You had to be a wet blanket and now it’s pouring. We got enough of this in New New York this week. Makes things cold, rusty, no one wants to leave their homes and businesses unguarded…”

The robot’s rant faded in a steady drone to Fry’s ears, just a background hum above the pounding rhythm of the droplets splashing onto the soil. He stared at the earth, as it grew muddy under his feet. Before long, he was soaked to the skin, then to the bone. It chilled him and he started to shiver.

A quick, careful glance upwards reassured him that it was indeed raining, but the once clear sky had become somber, filled with menacing clouds. A bolt of lightning crashed beside him, near enough for him to feel the static charge raising his body hair. It was entirely terrifying.

Cautiously, Fry sidled away from his friend, who was waving at the sky on his newly extended legs. Bender just loved electricity and was actually hoping to be struck by lightning.

The mud was growing deeper and Fry found it hard to walk. Thunder rolled across the sky and he shivered violently. The robot laughed gleefully at the elements, fearless, but the human was terrified. Under the thunder, Fry thought he heard something, perhaps the scream of a child.

Walking became nearly impossible Fry kept tripping through the mud. It was terribly heavy and the viscous sludge clung to his jeans. Finally, he hit a rock buried in the muck and he fell facedown, splattering it all over his clothes off. Miserably, he got back up to his feet.

   “Ew, this is disgusting.” A hand reached down and pulled him to his feet. Panicked, the delivery boy wrenched his arm away. “Agh! Don’t help me, Bender! If you get zapped, I get cooked!” The hand let go of him and relieved, Fry wiped the slime out of his eyes.

He looked up expecting to see Bender, but instead he saw his father. Yancy Fry gazed at his son solemnly through the mud and the rain and all the filthy redhead could do was stare back at him.

   “You’re more than a thousand years late for dinner, Philip. Not very military of you. Didn’t I teach you better than that?”
-----------------------------------

[Reply #321 on:]

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Layla's back! And there was shippy! And knives!

[Reply #322 on:]

Another great chapter! Hope you update soon.

[Reply #323 on:]

Layla, If I quoted the stuff I liked the way you quoted me this post would never end... so I can't be quite as thorough as you.

Stuff I really liked:

   

“Quick, let’s get him in bed.” Bender snickered, and the mutants glared at him.

  Almost sounds familiar….

   

“Hmm… oh, oh yes. I remember now. He’s my uncle, you know. I get my good looks from his side of the family.” He let his voice waver in a manner he felt came across as suave.

  I can really hear that for some reason…

[Everything involving Nixon, especially the chew toy]

   

She stared at him, wide-eyed, as she considered the implications.
“Do you mean Fry will be smart?!”

Leela is so forthright with her backhanded comments… this is exactly something she would say, no matter how worried she was about Fry.

   

The purple-haired woman stroked Fry’s cheek gently.

  Question.  Is Leela’s hair purple at this point, or is it still red?

Beta wise, these sentences seemed off:
   

The subtle twitching of Munda’s tentacles and tail also betrayed the stress she was feeling as she watched over Fry

Is betrayed the right word?
   

Finally, he hit a rock buried in the muck and he fell facedown, splattering it all over his clothes off.

  Doesn't seem phrased right…


Just wonderful, Layla. It's that simple.

[Reply #324 on:]

a little touch of 20th century is not bad in this fanfiction..

[Reply #325 on:]

Wohoo, 4 parallel stories! The sewers, Nixon (I loved that one), the PE-building and Fry's dream (loved that one too)! Does it get any better than that? Of course I loved those other parts as well, but I found those two very enjoyable.

I could quote some things I like, but I'm too tired to do so (sorry), and JBERGES mentioned most of them already. I also have a test tomorrow, but I had to take a break from my studying to read this 

[Reply #326 on:]

Once again, wowpow! This is so good. Nixon chewing a stress toy was FANTABULOUS. I really grinned my face off. Oh, and I was really tickled by the, "You're a thousand years late for dinner" thing... seriously... I was giggling madly. Anyway, OH MY GOOD GOLLY GOSH, YAY!! I love hearing about Fry's past, honestly... and that knifey thing sounds neat-o. Well, it's not neat as in I don't want Amy to die, but it's neat as in, well, I want to read more!

[Reply #327 on:]

Just replying tonight, no update. Sorry cuties. Another one coming as soon as it's finished of course!

JBERGES: Mutual ego boosters, huh? Now that's a fun internet based relationship.;-)
I love your replies, you're plenty thorough! Besides, we're really lucky that not everyone is as addicted to words as I am.

   

“Quick, let’s get him in bed.” Bender snickered, and the mutants glared at him.

  Almost sounds familiar….

Remember, it's not stealing, it's homage. I can't deny this was completely inspired by your fabulous writing. (Go forth, my pretties, and tell JBERGES how wonderful he is! (And he was here first!) I was writing, and that just popped into my head, and it was just too much fun to have unconscious Fry doing that line by proxy through Bender. (Redundant, I know) (looks shy) Still, if it bothers you, beloved fanfic writer, say the word and I'll red pen it.)

Anyhoo, I'm so glad you liked "suave" Professor and frothy Nixon! 

 

Leela is so forthright with her backhanded comments… this is exactly something she would say, no matter how worried she was about Fry.

Comments like this just make me love you even more.  You're such a reassurance on lines that I'm not so sure about.

   

Question.  Is Leela’s hair purple at this point, or is it still red?

 

(Slaps forehead violently) Red! I'm a twit! Red red red!

As for the sentences, the first one just needs to be rephrased. (Betrayed really only applies if she was trying to hide her stress. Whoopsie!) The second one is a grammatical nightmare. Thanks muchly for catching it.

Thank you for being so wonderful to me!

Venus: Oh, you're such a cutie! Incidentally, if you think that is shippy, you really have to stick around to the end. Although possibly it may kill you... (worries)

Philp_J_Fry: Thanks a bunch! You have no idea how nice it is to know all this typing is appreciated.

morbo_it: Hmm... I don't want to give anything away, but there'll be more than a touch, there'll be at least a tad.

becky: I intended this to be a very long update with all four stories being complete scenes, but then I got lazy. It's really funny to me the ones you preferred, as those were the ones I didn't bother cleaning up at all. I'm glad the dream scenes are working. I like writing them, cause it reminds me that I'm actually getting somewhere. Someday I'll be finished with this! Hope your test went well!

say what now: (tries to picture someone grinning their face off. Is terrified.  ) Thank once again and always for replying. It means so much to me. I'm so glad you liked the chewtoy (I just thought it wouuld be fun) and I love that you love the dinner line. Soon I'll be getting into the Fry's past part for real, and I hope you enjoy that too. (It's the only major part of the story I haven't tackled yet.) Your raves always make me laugh, and then I type more, so thanks buddy!   

Nerd-o-rama: (Misses him terribly) I was trying not to feel a bit forgotten (rolls eyes at own sillyness) when, in my search to figure out what JBERGES was talking about when he mentioned PEELies, I spotted your meanlingless nomination of me. I giggled and blushed in the more girlish way imaginable, then felt guilty about Bergey. (cough, Canadian, cough) Now I feel very loved. Thanks sweetie!       

[Reply #328 on:]

*bump*

Okay, here's another update, the plot's moving forward at long last, but you'll have to wait for the next update before I really get into the political side of things. On the other hand, the sciency bit is here at last. See what you think of my technobabble attempt.

Incidentally, beware. There's a fairly disturbing (and funny, IMO) line in here from the Professor. I don't think you'll miss it.

Part 32:

Amy shuddered in terror at the man holding her, convinced that if she made a wrong move he would murder her. What had she gotten herself into?

In his prominent Jamaican accent, Hermes demanded that he release her, but the man refused. “Put your hands up in the air and step out of room. If you co-operate no one will be hurt, and if you don’t, well, you don’t want to know what we will do to you.”

   The inscrutable expression, on Hermes’ face troubled the Asian woman. The dark-skinned man could be ruthless when he wanted to be, and she wasn’t entirely sure that he would protect her. Finally, his shoulders slumped and Amy could breathe again.

   Knowing he had no choice, Hermes complied with the man. Careful not to make any sudden moves, the bureaucrat inched away from his desk, keeping an eye on the agent. The frightened intern whimpered softly as her coworker passed by. “Who are you? what do you want from us?”

   “Nothing more than a little cooperation, my dear.” Hermes felt ready to capitulate. He was accustomed to obeying authority; one did not disobey the Central Bureaucracy unless they also wanted to go skinny-dipping in deep space. Also, his sweet granny had believed in caning, sugar caning.

   “Alright, fine. Don’t hurt Amy.” As he passed them, Hermes whispered, “She hasn’t let me do up her will yet.”

   
---------------------------
The delivery boy stared up at his father in shock unable to believe his eyes. “You’re not Bender,” and looked around for the robot who was nowhere to be seen.

   “C’mon, Phil. Get up! You’re not spending all day wallowing in the mud like a commie potato farmer.” Yancy Fry had certain ideas about the world, and a millennium of change in the universe would not have changed him one iota.

   “Dad, I-”

   “On your feet!” With more than a little difficulty, Fry dragged himself to his feet. He would had said something to his dad, something loving, something special about it being good to see him, but the commander wasn’t finished yet. “Move out!” he ordered, before he started marching easily towards the mountains, assuming his wayward son would follow.

Tiredly, Fry tried to follow the heavyset military man, but it was nearly impossible. The rain had increased in intensity and was blowing into his eyes, blinding him. The thick mud slowed him, clinging to his legs and tripping him every few steps. Fry was sinking deeper, and he began to wonder what would happen if his strength gave out. He did not relish the prospect of drowning in the viscous muck.

   “Dad, slow down, I can’t catch up to you!” Yancy Fry Senior was having no difficulty traveling, and Fry was almost embarrassed to be struggling so in front of his dad. Gasping for breath, he continued to push forward, but the gap between the travelers grew longer and longer. The delivery boy’s head was swimming and nausea came at him in waves. How long since he had eaten or rested? Despair had returned to him in full force. Dad was going to leave him, and there was nothing at all he could do about it.

“Uh, Commander, you have to wait… Dad, please…help.” Near to fainting, Fry skidded into the mud. What was wrong with him?

   His father was standing over him, shaking his head. Fry felt a wave of shame wash over him. After all, it was only mud. He forced himself to meet his father’s eyes as he waited to be chewed out for such weakness, but instead of disappointment or frustration, a deep concern lurked in Yancy’s eyes. He hauled his dizzy son up and braced him while he swayed. “We don’t leave our own, Phil, remember that.”

   Relieved, all Fry could whisper was, “Yes sir, Dad,” before darkness took him.

-------------------------------------   Munda smiled down at her sleeping daughter, stroking her strange, red hair briefly before taking a blanket and wrapping it snuggly around her. The fatigue had finally grown too much for her. Her husband was occupied elsewhere, probably still sanding down the robot. She hoped they were getting along all right. The doctor came over every twenty minutes or so to look over her patient, but at present she was taking a quick break to eat and rest.

With no one else to talk to, Munda watched the Professor’s progress. She was impressed by the mad scientist’s efforts to build the machine; a strange, mad energy seemed to possess him when he was working and it overruled some of the limitations of his decrepit body.

   Munda was herself weary beyond description. The eternal worry of a mother for her child was raging through her bones, and prying up old regrets. If only there had been some way to give Leela a life worth living without them giving her up. Sometimes the affectionate woman hesitated to show the true depth of her maternal love to her vibrant daughter. Did she really have any right to be possessive of a woman who had made it entirely on her own? Munda knew Leela craved that parent-child bond, and she and her husband did as well, but every once in a while, Munda remembered that in many ways, they were strangers to each other. It made her weep.

   “Precious daughter, I love you so.” She whispered softly into the cyclops’ ear. Gently moving Leela in her chair away from the bed, Munda took over her child’s devoted vigil. Sometimes she worried about the intensity of the guilt Leela was struggling with; it would have to be dealt with sooner or later, and the longer she delayed facing up to it, the worse it would be. Fervently, Munda hoped that the young man’s recovery would remove that burden, but she knew Leela would have a hard time forgiving herself.

From her few meetings with Fry, Munda did not think he would blame her for a second, but he might not perceive just how badly Leela needed to hear that reassurance from his own lips.

   “You have to wake up, Fry, for Leela’s sake as well as your own. You’ve already shown how much she means to you, more than your own life. Do one more thing for her, and come back from this.” In a motherly impulse, Munda tucked Fry in a little tighter and tried to make him more comfortable. “Poor dear,” she murmured.

--------------------------------------
            Sparks flew up, along with clouds of tiny red paint flecks on the dock where Morris was belt sanding Bender back to his infamously shiny self. “Hey, is that too much pressure?”

    “Nah, I’m good.” The robot giggled girlishly. “Ooh! That tickles!” Obligingly, Morris increased the pressure and Bender moaned, his voice simulator simulating the jittery effect of vibrations on vocal chords. “Oh, yeah.” A silence drifted between them, but the mutant broke it, feeling talkative.

   “We don’t get many robots down here.”

   “Well, this ain’t exactly The Hip Joint, although I can think of more than a few that would visit for a good resurfacing.” An avaricious gleam came into his optical sensors. “You know, you’re not completely awful at this. Heh, heh. Maybe we could-”

   Morris was mutant enough to know trouble when he spotted it steamrolling towards him. “Ah, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Bender sat up and neatly switched off the sander as Turanga Morris stared at him in trepidation.

   “Now before you say anything, take a swig of that tequila, then listen to what Miracle Rodriguez has to say.”
-----------------------------------

   An unearthly howl jolted Leela back into consciousness, and she leapt to her feet before realizing that she’d been wrapped in a blanket. The alarmed, disoriented woman’s long legs were tangled in the heavy cloth and she fell into an ungraceful heap at the foot of the chair. Cursing, she violently pushed the blanket off her and stood, ready for anything, only to find herself staring into Munda’s concerned, and mildly reproving face.

   “Sweetie, are you alright?” Still confused and alarmed, Leela nodded.

   “I’m fine. Are you alright? What was that?” Munda smiled faintly and gently rubbed the young cyclops’ back.

   “Oh, that was your Professor friend.” Leela sighed, relieved, then a disturbing thought occurred.

   “Please tell me he wasn’t getting …
frisky… with the doctor.” Munda shook her head, hiding a smile.

   “No, no. He’s just finished building his little project.” Leela started when she realized he was there, frowning at her.

   “Don’t be ridiculous, Leela. I’m a scientist at work saving sewer dwelling monsters. I’ve had no time for wild sexcapades.” Mother and daughter shuddered involuntarily. Thoughtfully, Farnsworth smiled at the doctor. “Although now that I’ve finished…”

   Chastity chuckled and pointed to her patient. “Sorry, Professor, we’re not done saving your nephew just yet.”

The old man whined a bit in disappointment. “Ohh. Very well, then.” Enthusiasm crept back into his voice. “Let’s get this incredibly risky experiment on the spacelanes then.”

   Leela nodded and started towards the Professor, but Munda quickly pulled her back. “Incredibly risky?” She did not like the sound of that one bit.

   “Oh my, yes.” He sighed happily. “Like all of my experiments, we’ll be very lucky indeed if they both survive it. That robot could give you the odds I’m sure.”

   Leela squeezed her mother’s tentacle, both giving and taking reassurance. “It’s fine, mom. Don’t worry. He always says things like that.” Munda was not pacified by the touch or the words, but by the mournful way her daughter looked at Fry. There would be no arguing with her.

   “It’s not fine, but there’s nothing I can do about it.” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Let’s not mention the risk to your father. You know how he is; I’m going to have a hard enough time keeping him settled through all this.”

A crash at the door told them he and Bender had returned. “Speaking of…,” she sighed, not needing to turn around to identify them. Morris was telling one of his stories.

   “And so I said, listen honey, I may not be able to give you a life in one of them fancy septic tank neighbourhoods, but I can make you feel more beautiful then any of those two-eyed mutants, that’s for sure.” He had a friendly arm draped over Bender’s shoulders, now restored to their former glory. “And then, she tells me that-”

   “- that I’d rather live out my days
in a dank pit with him, then walk in light-strewn paths alone.” With a loving grin, Morris left the robot to his ennui, went to his wife and kissed her tenderly.

   “Such a poet.”

She blushed and swatted at him in embarrassed affection. “Morris, not in public.” Unrepentant, he wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her gently. “I’m the luckiest mutant in the world.” Munda rolled her eye at him, not wanting to be distracted from her worries, but not quite able to banish the amourous smile tickling her lips. She glanced at her daughter, who was smiling, in spite of everything, and felt grateful for the easygoing husband who had helped her bring Leela into the universe.

   Meanwhile, Bender, still a bit annoyed that yet another one of his brilliant schemes had flared and died out in an instant, was peering at the tiny device in the Professor’s hands. “What’s the pile of micro-crap?”

   Unfazed, and probably unaware of the insult to his handiwork, the scientist replied, “Why, this is my-”

   “Is it valuable?” Bender got straight to the point.

   “Well, there are those who would say-” Farnsworth began.

            “Hey, how’s my buddy doing?” The robot half bellowed, no longer even slightly interested in the MMM. He gave Dr. Rumelle a look to communicate his distrust before looking over at Fry. Softer, he addressed the unconscious man. “C’mon, pal, wake up. Staying in shape’s no fun without you.” He sighed and guzzled another Lobrau in the delivery boy’s honour.

Leela gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bender. It’ll be over soon. The Professor’s finished building the,” she hesitated, hating the name, “Mutant Mind Modem, so we’ll be able to help Fry.” 

   To her surprise, the robot started to laugh boisterously. “Do you know Morris has pictures of you playing Cher’s head in that musical your orphanarium put on to raise money for shackles?” At her expression, he laughed even louder, calling to Morris, “You’re right! She didn’t know.” He continued to chuckle as Leela stared at her rueful father in a mix of anger and mortification. “He’s a great guy though,” Bender assured her calmly.
   
Morris began to apologize, but Leela shook her head. “It’s okay, dad.” She smiled slightly. “You’re being the perfect, embarrassing father I’ve always longed for.” Leela turned her attention back to Farnsworth, who had been gazing at Dr. Rumelle in mild infatuation. “Alright then, Professor, what do I have to do?”

   They dug up another bed and placed it next to Fry’s, but leaving enough space between so that the doctor could get in, as she needed to. Leela kicked off her big boots and lay down. “I might as well get as comfortable as possible, since I may be here for a little while,” she said quietly to her fussing mother, who approved her daughter’s level headedness. It could be a very long while, maybe even forever if the Professors’ merrily dire warnings meant anything. 

Had Fry been this frightened when he took his own plunge into an uncertain future? Probably not, she reasoned, as he would not have thought things out as thoroughly as she was doing now. It just wasn’t in his nature, to consider the consequences of his actions beforehand. That aspect of his personality had driven her crazy on many occasions, but now she could see why he would defend it so fiercely even when his recklessness put his life in danger. There was something to be said about not worrying about tomorrow if you couldn’t be certain it would come.

   She let the Professor set the tiny, irregularly shaped bit of metal in her ear and fought the urge to rip it out when thousands of microscopic filaments shot down her ear canal and into her brain. She didn’t feel them, of course, but Farnsworth had helpfully set up a monitor in front of her face so she could have a medical student’s view of what he was doing to her head. It was a kindness she could have done without.

   “Now, Leela, Professor Farnsworth and I will be monitoring your condition, along with Fry’s throughout the procedure.” Dr. Rumelle gave her a professional, encouraging, smile before speaking softly with her parents.

   The scientist grinned at her as if she was one of the unfortunate guinea pigs that Dr. Zoidberg didn’t get to first. “This should be interesting.” He laughed, a high-strung giggle that ran down Leela’s spine. She smiled weakly at him, feeling helpless and hating it intensely. She still hadn’t entirely forgiven him for getting them into this mess in the first place.

   When he had everyone’s attention, the Professor offered a brief explanations of the Principles behind the MMM. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the technology we use to broadcast advertisements into our dreams.” Most of them nodded, but Morris chipped in, “I don’t have dreams.”

   “Because you’re weird, that’s why!” Farnsworth snapped at him before calmly continuing. “Well, since we can insert ad transmissions into our subconscious thoughts, it’s really a very simple matter to reverse the process and convert our subconscious thoughts into transmissions. The difficulty lies in the fact that Fry is not, technically, a mutant, where Leela is.

Normally, their brains are so vastly different in their underlying construction that without some sort of converter it would be mentally devastating for both of them to be connected like this.” He looked around and saw that he had a captive audience, accept for Bender who was wandering the room, idly bending whatever he could get a hold of. At least he was staying away from the lab equipment.

“You see, it’s rather like Fry is a Martian and Leela is a Venusian. They’re simply too different for their brains to be interconnected. However, this particular mind modem has a built in adaptor in order to deal with the variations between individual mutants brain structure. On it’s own, the MMM isn’t enough to bridge the gap between the subjects,” Morris scowled at him heavily and the Professor got the message. “That is, Fry and Leela, but in this case, the delta waves ravaging Fry’s delicate synapses are changing his thought structure in such a way that it will be possible to establish a stable connection between their minds.”

The listeners stared at him, understanding the basic ideas but without any comprehension of the underlying intricacies. He chuckled throatily. “Yes, that’s why scientists communicate in metaphors, because these things are easy to do, but impossible to explain. My, yes.”

   After a minute of trying to digest this, Leela let it go. “Okay, Professor, if you say so.” She smiled faintly, thinking about her reasons for going through with it. “As Fry would say, ‘let’s get bi-zay’”.

With laughter that came closer to suggesting dementia than humour, the scientist made his way to an incredibly bulky, inconceivably heavy station that had been indescribably “fun” to transport through the sewers. It had one button on it, marked ‘start/stop, please, for the love of God, stop!’ Farnsworth liked simplicity in his interfaces.

   Munda and Morris took turns embracing their daughter before embracing each other. “You’re going to be okay, baby.” Morris said, squeezing Leela’s hand.

   With one very large, very moist eye, Munda beamed down at the determined woman. “We’re so proud of you, dearheart, and of everything that you are.” Morris nodded in agreement.

   “We’ll be here waiting, when you wake up, Leela.” Her father promised, still clutching her slender fingers.

   Just as the Professor was going to push the button, Leela stretched out over the gap and took Fry’s limp hand, making her own hushed promise. “I’m coming, Fry. I’m not going to quit until I find you and I’m not coming home unless you come with me.” Reluctantly releasing his hand, the cyclops gave his fingertips a last, brief caress before laying back in her bed.

Gathering her courage, Leela met each parent’s gaze in a gentle, ‘see you later,’ then she closed her eye and let thoughts of Fry fill her mind. Her first sight of him, frozen with a beer in his hand; and that little yelp when he first saw her eye, which turned out to be the only negative reaction he’d ever had to it. That dreamy-eyed expression when he told her there had to be some amazing thing he could to do make her love him. His fear when he said he didn’t want anything to happen to her just before she was stung by the bee. The utterly shattered look in his eyes just before he realized she’d finally woken up and the devotion as he looked up at her from the floor after giving her his oxygen. All the countless ways he’d shown her that, for some reason, she meant more to him than his own life.

It all mixed together with all the times they had laughed over nothing, and even with the frustrations, arguments and hurts that had flown back and forth between them over the years since they’d met. It was all from a frozen kid with a beer in his hand and a startled expression in his eyes.

   “Okay, Professor, press the-”
---------------------------------------
Bwahahaha! 

[Reply #329 on:]

Oh, teh shippy!

More brilliance from Layla.  You might just have overdone the sap a bit in this episode, but that's mostly because you've got Leela, Leela's parents, sleeping Fry and Bender all in the same scene, and you just can't help yourself, can you?  Especially the seemingly unnecessary Morris/Munda shippy.

Anyway, nice technobabble...exactly the kind of babble I like to hear, especially from Farnsworth.

Fry and his dad was a nice, touching scene, especially since Fry's relationship with his parents wasn't really developed in the show.  I'm still not positive what's going on, but I like it and can't wait to see what happens when Leela interrupts - assuming that the way the MMM works, she ends up in the same plane of consciousness.
 

“As Fry would say, ‘let’s get bi-zay’”

That may just be the perfect line.

I’ve had no time for wild sexcapades.

No, on second thought, that was.

In the words of Willy Wonka, "the suspense is killing me.  I hope it lasts."

My predictions for next chapter:
-A battle of wits between Zapp and Amy (okay, I just want to see that for the hilarity value...really it's probably going to involve Kif doing some lovestruck backstabbing.)
-Leela vs. the trippy illusions in Fry's head...assuming Layla doesn't go completely Wachowski with her cliffhanger and have someone interrupt.  That's probably not a good idea, since I'd like to see some real plot advancement.
-A Nixon rampage, or at least one of those great rants of his.

Remember, these are only predictions, and Layla's probably come up with somthing better, since she is still so freakin' awesome at this.

[Reply #330 on:]

@Nerd-o; the thing you might not realize is that writers can change their stories mid-way  so someone's prediction does or doesn't come true.   

Good stuff Layla.  (Why would I want you to get rid of that joke?  It's not like you stole anything.)


 

Leela kicked off her big boots and lay down

  Minor callbacks to other episodes are always a plus.

 

Munda smiled down at her sleeping daughter, stroking her strange, red hair briefly

  Yes!  I was helpful!

You and your cliffhangers, I'll be waiting.  All I found error wise was a single extra comma, and I forgot where it was.  Oh well.  And that second to last paragraph made me miss Futurama...

On a sidenote, with all this shippy, are you running out of petnames for people, dearheart?

P.S.  More Professor sex jokes!  It's inherantly funny! (says the guy who wrote a whole script based on them)

[Reply #331 on:]

 

Originally posted by Layla50:
To her surprise, the robot started to laugh boisterously. “Do you know Morris has pictures of you playing Cher’s head in that musical your orphanarium put on to raise money for shackles?” At her expression, he laughed even louder, calling to Morris, “You’re right! She didn’t know.” He continued to chuckle as Leela stared at her rueful father in a mix of anger and mortification

........BWAhahahahaha!!!! Oh man! That's awesome! The rest of it's awesome too but i'm just stuck on this paragraph.

[Reply #332 on:]

Layla, you got me on my knees.  Great chapter again.  I'm very anxious to hear about Leela in Fry's dreamworld.

[Reply #333 on:]

  A sex joke! YES! A sex joke! I love sex jokes!
 

Obligingly, Morris increased the pressure and Bender moaned, his voice simulator simulating the jittery effect of vibrations on vocal chords.

That's such a brilliant way of describing that sound he makes! And the "oh yeah" afterwards really cracked me up.

Shippy, dramatic, funny (with sex jokes!) and a dream scene with Fry. Awesome combination! 

[Reply #334 on:]

OH MY GODDIDDYGOD!! This may just be my favorite installment yet.

OK, firstly, the exchange between Fry and his dad. I really liked it. I always like to see exchanges between Fry and people from his past, because I don't think I ever get to see enough of it. Yancy was so Yancy-ish! Yay! It was really cute, actually.

Now, the Morris/Bender scene- THAT was funny. Especially the "Oh, yeah," part. The way you described it, I could totally see it happening. The vibrating groan and everything. That's how it would happen, yo.

I died laughing at the Professor. I am so serious. First, I died laughing at the "please don't tell me he's getting frisky" part. Then, I died laughing at the sexcapades part. Then, I died laughing at his laughter at the biz-ay part. I have NO idea why, but just imaginging that line being said and then him laughing insanely really made ME laugh insanely.

OH, and I loved Bender's exchange with him. That made me giggle too. "What is this?" "Is it valuable?" "HOW'S MY BUDDY DOING!??!"

Oh, and did I mention the Munda/Morris shippy was SO CUTE?! No, I didn't, except for right now. Now I did. But it was positively adorable. I loved it.

Oh, and I loved this line: There was something to be said about not worrying about tomorrow if you couldn’t be certain it would come.

Um. Now I'm done and now I have to wait *sob*.

[Reply #335 on:]

another great chapter, especially the duets prof-leela and bender-morris, they' re becoming boozemates now..

[Reply #336 on:]

Only one word can describe this: Delicious.

[Reply #337 on:]

Great chapter Layla! I especially like the interactions of the 3 Turangas in this chapter! You make them seem more like real people than they usually are. Nice stuff!

[Reply #338 on:]

Just caught up on reading this story. All I can say is ................WOW!!!!!!!!

Great, the best part is how you have been digging into the minds and backgrounds of the characters.

Way to go Layla!!!!! Can't Wait for the Next Update!

[Reply #339 on:]

All I want for Christmas is Layla's update, Layla's update, Layla's update...

[Reply #340 on:]

*sigh* i miss Layla. i wish she would come back. *sob!*

[Reply #341 on:]

I leave for nearly a week, and Layla still hasn't updated.  Sheesh.  I guess she's doing what I've been doing...

...Metal Gear Solid 3 and Terry Pratchett.  Aw yeah, baby.

[Reply #342 on:]

Oh, I really am sorry about all this delay! I'll try to get the next update out tonight. Part of it was the last week of school hecticness (If that's not a word, well, it is now.), part of it was Christmas craziness, part of it was my brother coming home and cutting down on my computer time (the fiend!) and part of it was writer's block (i.e. holiday laziness).

REmember the days when I updated everyday? Sometimes twice? Me too.

Where is the fic, and the fanfic writer? Where are the frequent updates? They have passed like rain on the mountains, like wind on the meadow. The days have gone down in the west, behind the hills, into shadow. How did it come to this?

Also, I got ROTK:EE for Christmas. (coughs guiltily.)

[Reply #343 on:]

*gasp* Layla's not dead! She's just holding out on us! Get her! Yarr!

[Reply #344 on:]

Okay, here it is. I should warn you it's quite short, especially considering how long you've waited for it. I've really struggled with this part, but I think Ive got a better sense of where I'm going with all this. The next update shouldn't be as long a wait. (P.S. Brannigan is incredibly hard to write!)

Nerd-o-rama: As I'm sure you've figured out by now, I do try to balance out the story. Drama and comedy, shippy, and action. You're right though, when you say I can't help myself. I really can't. Still, not an iota of shippy in this bit. I'm so glad
you liked Fry and his dad. I like exploring that relationship myself. As for Leela's arrival, yes, she'll be on the same "plane" as Fry. (It'd be so cruel and lame not to connect them.)

I'm completely thrilled you liked those two lines. The second one I knew would be funny, the first I worried might have fallen through.

I like your list of expectations, ad I won't say too much, other than I think you'll be pleased with what's coming up before the end of this story.
 
JBERGES:Whew! Okay, I wasn't sure if that's what you thought or not. (The line stealing thing.) And you're always helpful Bergey. I miss Futurama too. (Sniffle)

Yes, angelcupcake, I'm running out of names. To anyone ever considering writing a fanfic. Don't make it this long, or sheer repetition will drive you insane.

(Re: sex jokes. Is that a request?)

Venus: Ah! Run away! (I'm glad you liked that paragraph. Have you forgiven me yet?)

Crash_7: Thanks for replying, I really appreciate it. I've been looking forward to Leela and Fry in the dreamworld for a very long time.   

becky: I'm pretty careful about sex jokes. I don't do them unless I think they really work. That said, I'm glad you liked it!

I'm so glad the description worked out. I struggled a bit with that one, trying to make it very visual without being weird.

say what now: Oh, you're such a cutie! Thank you, dolly. Lots of past stuff upcoming, so I hope you continue enjoying it. I love hearing the comedy works, because it's what I worry about most, except for going over the top with the drama. And I'm glad you like the Munda/Morris shippy. They just snuck it in on me, honest! Sorry I didn't get this out on Christmas.   

morbo_it: Exactly, Bender-Morris boozemates! I'm glad you liked it!

Pataloca:Thanks for the scrumptious comment!

Ol'coot: Thanks so much. It's a strange thing about writing drama with a cartoon series. You have to think of them as real people, without losing the cartoon crazyness of their universe.

Bubble Gum: Aww! Thanks so much for reading all this. I'm glad you enjoy my playing with our characters. It's fun for me too!

Part 33:    

   After Hermes left the room, the man dropped the knife from her throat, but still kept a firm grip around her waist. Shock and fright had drained her of the will to fight back, so she allowed him to shove her out of the room.

Amy was distantly aware that she was breathing far too shallowly and much too fast.  Darkness began closing around her vision and she tried to slow the panicked gasps. When the startlingly strong agent shook her she lost her balance and slid limply to the floor. ‘How incredibly girlish of me’ she thought dreamily, as her persistent hormones took the time to inform the dizzy woman that the man holding her had a physique similar to one of the Armando Cruz’s, though Amy could not remember which one.

In slow motion, she stared in idle fascination as another agent firmly gestured for Hermes to move down the corridor. His dark dreadlocks swayed forward as the Jamaican stumbled and there was a strange beauty about it to Amy’s stunned eyes.

More movement caught her eye, the man who had held her was yelling at her now, but she could not hear him. A fire blossomed in her cheek as he slapped her, restoring the flow of time to its normal rate. Amy didn’t really appreciate his methods, but it was effective in taking her out of her hyperventilating. After a minute of controlled breathing, the darkness cleared and the dizziness that had assailed her passed away.

Before she could take in what had happened, she was hauled to her feet again and pushed into the employee lounge. Hermes had a strange look on his face, a mixture of dismay and contempt. Including the men who had brought them in, there were four of the dark-clothed agents, but not only them.

 Taking charge of the situation was an all too familiar figure looking resplendent in a DOOP uniform. “Great. Just great.” She muttered to herself, not particularly concerned about his overhearing. At least Leela wasn’t around. It just wasn’t a good thing when those two polarities ended up in a confined space.

   “I’m Captain Zapp Brannigan,” he announced, as if they had never met. “That’s Z, a very big Z, then a little A, that does the job, mind you,” Hermes sighed heavily, shaking his head, “and double P for perfect … prowess,” Amy resisted mild revulsion, thinking of Leela’s encounter. “Brannigan.” He finished the introduction throatily, looking Amy up and down in a manner not unlike Nibbler eyeing crunchy livestock. The intern quietly longed for her squishy boyfriend, wondering where Kif was. Normally Brannigan would never let the lieutenant leave his velour-slathered side.

   “We know who you are,” Hermes said, glaring at the egocentric dimwit. “But what are you doing here?”

Brannigan pouted at him, miffed at the interruption, then purposefully knocked over the TV “Oops,” he said softly, with nothing genuine in his voice.

   “Hey! That’s not a deductible expense!” Zapp smirked at them, clearly the man enjoyed his perceived power a little too much.

   Settling down on the couch, with his ‘Miracle Micro-mini’ just barely doing the job, the captain got down to business. “I can’t say where my orders come from, but I can quote them for you. The man told me, ‘Arroo. Brannigan, you brilliant tactician, find the Planet Express commune and wreck it up until you find this man.”

The captain held up a photo of Fry looking indecisively between a can of slurm in one hand and a can of slurm lite ™ in the other. Zapp tried to smile menacingly, but failed miserably. However, the agents’ cold expressions did add weight to Brannigan’s airy bluster. “So tell me, do you want to do this the Zapper’s way, or the fun way?”

   Hermes’ eyes squinted behind his wire-framed lenses. “Uh, which way is which?” he asked thoughtfully, his voice lacking the fear that Brannigan had hoped to inspire. The crew had had enough encounters with the not-so-heroic captain to completely lose any sense of awe they may have once felt at his name.

   “Can’t we just not do it at all?” Amy asked coolly. Brannigan did not appear to have heard their replies, he had already been distracted by the photo.

   Caught up in the sound of his voice, Zapp contemplated it. “Ah, yes. The hair pile that dared to step between myself and the voluptuous vixen, Leela.” His eyes narrowed and he began addressing Fry directly. “Well, Mr. I’m-Not-A-DOOP-Captain, now we’ll see what happens to anyone who stands between my glorious self and the lucky woman offered membership in the Zapp Brannigan Harem.”

Amy and Hermes exchanged uneasy glances. “Now that the President himself sent me to track you down-” An infuriated agent coughed loudly. No one should have ever entrusted Brannigan with a secret. Seeing the raw hostility in the black clad men’s eyes, he added quickly, “which has nothing to do with this government sanctioned invasion.”

   Hermes choked softly, dumbfounded by Zapp’s idiocy. For one moment, he was grateful that Planet Express had not been saddled with the inept sensualist… more than once. How in the known universe had the man ever managed to avoid being busted down to executive toilet scrubber for incompetence? There would always be mystery in the universe, he ruminated, as he waited for Brannigan to stop talking and start doing.

   Everyone in the room, save Zapp breathed a sigh of relief when a woman, again, in black, appeared, waving a form in her hand. Hermes relief was short-lived, as he recognized it. “Oh no.” He hissed softly, unable to stop himself. Amy stared at him questioningly.

   Brannigan strode boldly over to the agent and imperiously snatched the form. “Interesting, interesting.” He muttered thoughtfully, before thrusting it at the bureaucrat. “What is it?”

   Hermes clamped his lips together and stared forward, as if he had not heard. His attempt at resistance proved futile as the blonde woman answered for him. “It’s a 97-b, a request for leave of absence.” She glared at the Jamaican fiercely, a hint of a taunt rippling through her rich voice. “A medical leave for Philip Fry, if I’m not mistaken.”

   The lightning quick thought processes of a limbo champion raced into action and Hermes chuckled easily. “Oh, yes. I remember that day, don’t you Amy?” The intern nodded uncertainly. “How could we forget? It was quite out of the ordinary.”

He looked deep into the blonde’s eyes, challenging her from the bottom of his technicality-based soul. “You’re right. This 97-b is a request for a two-week leave so we could get him admitted to the local Slurm Addiction Clinic after that three day binge.” He smiled at the memory. “It took us six hours to talk him down from the ceiling fan after Bender painted the logo on one of the blades. Such a prankster!” He sighed in satisfaction. “Fry cut his tongue up pretty fierce.” Even Zapp was a bit thrown by the story, and several agents glanced up surreptitiously at the ceiling.
 
Changed:
----------------------------------------
   The lone female agent wasn’t nearly as impressed. Moving closer to the bureaucrat, she glared at him poisonously. “I highly doubt anyone is that addicted to slurm.” An agent looked around guiltily and a short laugh escaped Amy. She couldn’t help it.

The woman strode to Amy and grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully. She addressed Zapp, but didn’t turn from the nervous intern. “They’re lying.”

   Captain Zapp Brannigan looked at the women very seriously. “Lying? Yes, that sounds like a good idea.” He approached the women, and said in a stage whisper that everyone could hear, “Why don’t you lovely ladies come with me so we can have a ‘lying’ session of our own?”

While the agent glared at him in a mixture of shock and revulsion, Amy rolled her delicately slanted eyes at the lame pickup line. It wasn’t the first, or even the thousandth time some guy had used a line on her, and that one didn’t come close to being the worst she’d heard.

Since neither women shrieked or tried to cut off little Zapp, the self-styled lady-killer pulled out his little black book. Uh oh.

   “Uh, weren’t you going to bring us to the Nimbus for a little questioning?” Amy asked, deciding that an interrogation was infinitely preferable to putting up with a ‘poetry’ reading from that little book.

   Brannigan ignored her. He began to read, “‘I think that I shall never see, a boobie quite as nice as me. In fact, unless Leela’s standards fall, I’ll never see her boobs at all… again. So, let's get naked, baby!”

   Amy moaned and rubbed her temples. ‘Think of Kiffy. Think of Kiffy.’ she chanted in her head. ‘Think of Kiffy pushing Zapp out an airlock…” Yeah, that helped a bit.

   Hermes clamped his hands over his ears. “Aghhh! The pain, the pain to my mellow Caribbean soul!”

   An irritated agent asked, “Sir, if there’s nothing else that needs doing here, maybe we should-” Zapp shoved him back with a sweaty palm.

   “Silence! You’re almost as stupid as my loyal cabin boy, Kif.” Increasingly obvious hostility burned in the agents’s eyes. They weren’t being paid enough to tolerate Brannigan.

As always, Zapp was ignorant of the hatred he unintentionally generated wherever he went. “There’s no way to get the kind of information we’re seeking out of a man, especially my heroic friend here.” The bureaucrat blinked at him meekly but the Captain had already moved on.

“No, the only way to get information is from a helpless, female woman who can’t resist the charms of a macho, macho man in uniform.” He folded his arms across his broad chest, towering over Amy.

      “And that, my slinky little pineapple, is you.” Zapp leaned forward to croon in her ear. “I think you’ll find that like sheep deserting a sinking ship, it only takes one bad apple to lead the rats to the slaughter.” Slightly intimidated, despite everything she knew about the windbag, Amy focused on the floor, trying to ignore Zapp as he slowly circled her spouting scrambled idioms.

   Turning his attention to the new men, and one woman, under his command, he tried to inspire them. “Once again, we see that when the enemy has washed his dirty laundry in an upset applecart, Brannigan is bound to find the cat they let out of the china shop.” The agents’ eyes glazed over as they tried to decipher his ramblings, until he clapped his hands loudly, startling them. “Right then. To the ship, and bring the prisoners!”

------------------------------------------

There you have it, my first attempt at writing the Zapper. Thoughts, anyone?

[Reply #345 on:]

Yay for scrambled idioms! And yay for the slurm story, it's like the coffee binge but with bloodshed!


If your running out of pet names just cut back on them. For my fic i just chose one and stuck with it.

On a side note, I demand the Shippy! Bring me the Shippy!

[Reply #346 on:]

The shippy is fine, oh adorable-one-who-has-run-out-of-petnames.

Nice Zapp, I have to say.  The intro is classic

that does the job, mind you

and his metaphors are more scrambled than the eggs I had this morning.  Which were over-easy, but that's not the point.  Remember, with Zapp you can never have too many perverted comments/horrible attempts at flirtation, especially when Amy or Leela is around to hear them.

Amy's little "revelation" there seemed a bit...forced, even for her.  As in, why would she say that?  But that's coming from a guy who simply wishes she wasn't as dumb as the writers made her, so perhaps I'm biased.  Although it does show both her and Zapp being morons with their respective secrets, which is a comparison I was looking forward to seeing.

And of course we now have the question: where's Kif?

[Reply #347 on:]

Good to have you back.  With me in between stories, Tongue Luck in between sections, and Gorky having apparently fallen off of Earth, it's up to you to keep the fanfic community afloat for a bit.  No pressure, mind you.

   

He finished the introduction throatily, looking Amy up and down in a manner not unlike Nibbler eyeing crunchy livestock.

Well written, Layla.

   

The captain held up a photo of Fry looking indecisively between a can of slurm in one hand and a can of slurm lite ™ in the other. Zapp tried to smile menacingly, but failed miserably. However, the agents’ cold expressions did add weight to Brannigan’s airy bluster. “So tell me, do you want to do this the Zapper’s way, or the fun way?”

I needed to quote that because I simply enjoyed every part of that paragraph. I can picture Fry's expression in that snapshot, and Zapp's threat was well muddled.

The Zapp writing was pretty good overall. If you keep using him, be sure to not force the funny lines upon him.  I think Zapp's one of the easiest characters to write desite what you say, but the thing about him is that almost every line of his must be funny in some way.  This can raise issues in consistency when you can't think of the perfect line for each situation.  Don’t force it (You haven’t yet, I’m just trying to be helpful by pointing out things that have screwed me up before), a forced line is worse than an uneventful line.

It goes with out saying that I’m enjoying your writing very much; however, I must agree with Nerd-o on his point.  This is the second time Amy has ruined a plan by blurting out something.  Furthermore, the latter was completely unprovoked.  I'd recommend working in something to trigger Amy to say that. 

Regardless, you're still doing wonderfully.  Best of luck continuing this endeavor.

 

(Re: sex jokes. Is that a request?)

Sure!

[Reply #348 on:]

this chapter was as funny as the other ones, but i think that amy revealing the plan for no apparent reason is a little unlikely.

hey, i read the answers of nerd-o-rama and jberges only after i posted this..

[Reply #349 on:]

Yikes! I guess I really blew it.  Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

I can't argue with three such wise reviewers (and goodness knows I adore Venus (write more! Make me happy!) so I won't. Looking back, I regret posting that at all because it really is substandard for me. The things we do to push through writer's block. The good news is that that little effort completely unblocked me, and I'm writing like crazy. More coma stuff (How I love writing it!!!) and I so can't wait to get to the end. Venus will be very happy with me, but I think N-o-r and Bergey and most everyone else will be too.

I love you guys! (Okay, enough cuddles!) I think I'll completely rewrite that last scene and edit it at some point. Back to writing. Update tommorow at the latest.

[Reply #350 on:]

Don't worry Layla, i'm writing. It just takes me a week to write a paragraph is all.

And yay in advance for the stuff you said would make me happy.

[Reply #351 on:]

Oh Layla! Despite the aforementioned detail, it was still a good installment. I don't think you'll have to do all that much to make that little turn more convincing. That little mistake is teeny tiny compared to all the rest of the good stuff going on.

Anyway, I'm sure after you work on it it'll be flawless! You know what I love about you? I love how you take everything in stride. You use constructive criticism wisely. That takes a lot of power, I think. Usually when I make a blunder, the usual result is me smacking myself.

Anyway, I think you got Zapp down really nice. I giggled at his jokes. Oh, and I liked all the bureaucracy stuff going on.

And in conclusion, however you decide to make it happen in the end with your rewrite, my response for this part will still be AHHHHHH DON'T GO INTO THE SEWWWEEERRRSSS!! Which means suspense and uncomfortableness and anxiousness, which means I NEED UPDATE!

[Reply #352 on:]

It wasn't a bad chapter, Layla.  It's just that I think most of us are more interested in Fry and Leela than the political intrigue stuff.

[Reply #353 on:]

Aw! You guys are so sweet. Thank you! I have to post this quick, so I'll give you personal replies later. Also, I've edited the last part, so do let me know if I've improved it any.


Part 33:

   The first thing to greet Leela was light. Beautiful, piercing, blinding light exploded around her, forcing her to clamp her eye shut in self-defense.

The second thing welcoming her to Fry’s mind was pain, fiery, blistering, nipples-caught-in-a-blender pain. The shocking impact of it stole her breath and she could do nothing but gasp and shudder. It was just as well, since Leela considered shrieking in agony too girly, as well as being utterly useless. Was this what Fry had experienced? As she choked softly, trying to adjust to the pain, tears streamed unbidden from her eye. ‘Don’t fight it, just move past it. Don’t fight it, just move past it,’ she chanted in her head. Only when other sensation informed her she had collapsed on to a rough, uneven floor, Leela realized the pain was subsiding.

Soon, it had mercifully faded away completely. Through her eyelid, she perceived the light fading as well. She opened her eye cautiously and for the first time, took in her surroundings. Leela was sprawled in a narrow tunnel that dipped down and rose up as well as winding around. The air was heavy with moisture and water trickled down the rocky walls. Large puddles had gathered in impressions in the floor and only kind chance had spared her a wet landing in one of the small pools. She was still damp though, from the atmosphere, and it wasn’t getting any drier on the floor. Time to find Fry.

   “Fry?” and now Leela did yell. “Fry! It’s Leela! Answer me!” Her calls echoed along the tunnels and she paused, listening carefully for a response. There was none. “Of course you’re not around,” she sighed to her absent friend. “Nothing is ever easy. Nothing is ever simple with you.”

An involuntary smile tickled her lips. “Except your mind,” she chuckled sardonically, before thoughts of the circumstances gentled her attitude. “Your mind isn’t really that simple either.” Leela said quietly as she chose a random direction and started to search for him.

She called out again, “Fry, I don’t know where you are, but get over here. You wouldn’t believe the trouble you’ve caused!” Keeping her worry at not finding him immediately in check by focusing on his flaws, the cyclops sought for Fry’s consciousness.
----------------------------------------

   Gibbering cheerfully, Zoidberg returned to Planet Express after walking Nibbler. The doctor leaned over and gave him a friendly pat before letting the dark-furred creature off his leash.

   “Well, here we are again after a pleasant trip through the park.” Nibbler squealed in alarm as he took in the overturned furniture, shattered glass, and broken TV. Zoidberg ignored him. “And why wouldn’t it be lovely, spending time with Leela’s pet, that everyone loves and talks about and cuddles? And why couldn’t it be me?!” Zoidberg began bawling, and Nibbler rolled all three of his eyes in exasperation at the Decapodian’s melodrama.

If there was anything Nibbler disliked about being under cover, defending Fry and thus the universe, it was having to kowtow to the Earthican concept of a pet.

Gradually, Zoidberg himself lost interest in his plight. “Enough, already. Since the robut’s away, along with everyone else, at last I can enjoy the Aquatic channel in peace.” And of course, that was when he noticed the destroyed TV.

   Leaving the lobster-like alien to his bereavement, Lord Nibbler turned his attention to more important matters. Scampering as fast as his adorable paws could carry him, the Nibblonian raced to the security camera interface to discover what had happened.

   “Ah, it is as I suspected, the so-called ‘civil’ government of this minor, yet critically important mud ball is threatening the safety of the Mighty One.” Striking a dramatic pose with a grave expression on his sweet face, he slowly intoned. “This must not be.”

Babbling anxiously, he pondered the situation. “I must protect him, from his own people if necessary. And yet, what can be done, without risking the sanctity of the great mission? Ah, this bears much thought.” Nibbler paced back and forth anxiously. “The Council must be contacted.”

   A quick, clandestine conversation with his fellow Nibblonians had at least given him direction, if not comfort. He would not interfere at present, unless it became clear that Fry’s life was directly in peril. For now, he would observe the primitive broadcasts from his personal vessel to determine what action, if any, the Earthican President would take against the Mighty One.       

--------------------------------------
   A shuttle quickly brought them back to the Nimbus. Amy and Hermes had been placed in restraints after Amy had delivered a very personal message to Brannigan when he tried to touch her inappropriately. Limping slightly, he disembarked from the shuttle, followed by the squad and the prisoners.

   “You there, and you, with the moustache, and you, with the shapely hips-”

   “Me, sir?” a young man asked nervously.

   “No, not you, the one with the breasts!”

            “Me, sir?” came the deep voice.

   “No! The woman! The three of you, you’re coming with me to the bridge. As for the rest of you, escort the erotic temptress to the brig. Oh, and the other guy, too.” He added. Unenthusiastic grumbles rose up, but the men obeyed.

It was clear to Hermes that Zapp would not be able to control the government agents for long. That was trouble. Brannigan was, at least, a known element, dangerous, but almost accidentally so. Hermes did not like the look of the black garbed people. There was an air of coldness about them, and it frightened him. At least they’d come after him and not his family. Thoughts of his beautiful LaBarbara and his annoying, yet endearing, dependant filled his mind. She wasn’t going to like it if he was late for dinner.

   Amy sighed wistfully as they were pushed into the Nimbus’ brig. “Where is he?”
She said aloud, peering anxiously through the door. It didn’t offer much of a field of vision, and the Asian abandoned the effort.

   “You’ve got a point there, Amy. Where is that little green thing that follows Zapp around?” Slumping to the spartan benches, he added, “And what is he, anyway? Some kind of pet?” Amy frowned at the Jamaican.

   “No! He’s a sweet, sensitive, brave, squishy darling!” She fairly growled, defending Kif.” Hermes held up a hand to stay her protests.

   “Alright, alright. But he ought to have picked a better employer.” Amy sat on the other bench that ran along the opposite wall and put her feet up.

   “What, you mean like the Professor?” she asked pointedly. Hermes shrugged, allowing for that hit. “Besides,” she continued, “I’ve asked him about it. Working for the DOOP started out as a dream for Kif. It’s considered a very noble profession among his people.”

The dark-skinned man rolled his eyes, but Amy ignored it, focused on trying to explain Kif’s position. “Ritual is so important and hierarchy is everything in his culture. You don’t question superiors, even if they’re… Zapp.” She sighed unhappily. “Poor Kiffy, I don’t think he’ll ever stand up to his captain.”

   After a brief silence, Hermes spoke. “What do we do now?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. Amy smiled, trying to remain cheerful. “We could play ‘I, Spy’,” she suggested.   

---------------------------------------      
   Time moved strangely in this place, in Fry’s mind. ‘I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me.’ Leela mused to herself. She felt as though she had been walking through the labyrinthine caverns for hours, but she couldn’t really tell for certain. There was no sky, and the light level did not change. Leela could not discern any source of the muted, constant illumination filling the cave systems, but it was strangely comforting to the cyclops, even if it disoriented her sense of time. ‘Better than staggering around in the dark.’

   “Fry, where are you?” she called, and her voice echoed back, “Fry, where are you?” The plaintive answer was clear, and firm, more so than any of the previous echoes.  The hair stood on the back of her neck. “Hello?”

   “Hello?” Her voice reverberated back.

   “Great. Now my mind is playing tricks on me.” Leela grumbled, trying to control her nerves. Then she rounded a sharp turn and the narrow tunnel widened into a large cavern.

   “What?!” she shrieked in surprise at the site that greeted her, the cry bouncing off the walls in impersonal mockery.

   There were at least fifteen women and most of them looked very familiar. They were her own personal doppelgangers, a duplicate Amy, and several other women, some that Leela recognized, and some that she didn’t.

   “Amy” waved cheerfully at the stunned cyclops, “Hi, Leela!” sparking a chorus of greetings from the other women.

   Being reasonably intelligent, Leela realized that she was essentially looking at a harem of the women Fry had fantasized about at one time or another. The cyclops seriously doubted that this was all of them, but it was a significant portion. She wasn’t sure whether she should be offended or flattered that so many of them looked like her, in various costumes, and in varying degrees of dress, so Leela settled on being flabbergasted and mildly embarrassed.

   They were all involved in various activities, some of which were much more domestic than Leela would have thought. Two were making a quilt with a picture of Fry when he was an emperor for a while, a small group was singing Xmas carols, and four were playing table tennis. Some of the women were more adventurous. Two “Leela’s
were engaged in a fierce, yet cheesy swordfight, ‘Amy’ and one of the ‘Leela’s’ were wrestling in spandex and yet another ‘Leela’, this one looking particularly fierce, was arm wrestling with the Crushinator.

Leela tried not to look too closely at the other women, reluctant to invade Fry’s private thoughts, thought that was more for sake of their friendship than for Fry’s sake. ‘Well, his imagination is more active than I would have given him credit for,’ she reflected, trying to stay positive, at least while the redhead’s life was in danger. She could kill him once she was sure he was going to be okay.

   Leela stood there, debating for a time, wondering if she should move on or try to talk to one of them. Maybe they knew where Fry was. Feeling weird from her head to her toes, she approached the ‘Leela’ who was arm wrestling. “Um… excuse me… may I cut in?” It seemed like the best way to strike up a conversation.

   “Sure. Why. Not.” the Crushinator intoned mechanically before rumbling off. The fantasy Leela extended her hand wordlessly, and the real Leela, well, real-er since all of this was rather metaphorical, took her hand.

As they struggled, Leela asked, “So, have you seen Fry?” All the resistance went out of her competitor and Leela slammed her hand onto the rickety table. “Sorry about that,” she apologized, but the Leela-ish person didn’t care?

   “Fry?” She asked, suddenly perky, “You’ve seen Fry?!” She leapt up from the stoll she’d been perched on. “Hey, girls! This one’s seen Fry!” In seconds, Leela was surrounded by excited, babbling women.

   “Oh, he’s so cute!”

   “I love that orange hair!”

   “And his sweet little nose.”

   “Do you think I could get his autograph?”

   “Do you think he would date me?”

   “What does he like on toast?”

   The questions flew fast and furious, and Leela held her hands up for calm. ‘Was this what Fry wanted from women?!’ “Hey, hey, wait a minute. I’m Fry’s friend, Leela-”

   “So am I!”

   “So am I”

   “Well, I was first!”

   “No, you weren’t!”

   Before the argument could erupt into a hair pulling fight, Leela intervened. “Settle down, now. I know Fry, and believe me; he’s not worth getting this excited over. The women gasped as one.

   “How can you say that?”

   “Did you hear what she said?”

   “But he’s so sexy!”

   “We should help her understand!”

   “No, there’s more of him for the
rest of us that way!”

   “Well, I’m not sharing!”

   Leela physically stepped between the squealing women. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean that. He’s great, of course, he is. Cute, sweet, funny, etcetera!” And she meant it. “But he might be in trouble-”

More alarmed gasps. “He might be in trouble,” Leela repeated, louder, “and so I need to find him as soon as I can. Can you tell me where to find him? Please?” A hurried, hushed conversation proceeded for a few minutes before ‘Arm-wrestle’ Leela spoke.

   “I’m sorry. We don’t know where he
is. He hasn’t been around lately.” The women sighed sadly. Leela nodded unhappily. She had wasted valuable
time. “But,” ‘Leela’ continued, “Katy might know where he is.”

   “Yeah, Katy might know.”

   “She’s kinda smart.”

   “She’s different.”

   Leela felt hope jump in her heart, even as she wondered about who this Katy was. “Can you tell me where to find her?”   
------------------------------------------

Enjoy, I hope!

[Reply #354 on:]

Part 32:

I have to agree with JBerges and others. This insallment wasn't up to your usual high quality. You did a great job depicting Zipp but the Amy blurt-out was kinda rough. 

Part 33:

Great chapter! The pacing was choice, a great job of running 2 story lines at once. (I can't wait to find out more about Katy!) 

[Reply #355 on:]

I liked this chapter quite a lot.  The dream world sounds like it's going to be very interesting.  I did catch one typo.
"Leela tried not to look too closely at the other women, reluctant to invade Fry’s private thoughts, thought that was more for sake of their friendship than for Fry’s sake."
I think you meant "though that was more..."

[Reply #356 on:]

Ahhh. Well, I gotta say, I think your rewrite was much better- now I'm curious to see what's going to go on there, too. Not to mention it allowed more Zapp jokes which you pulled off WONDERFULLY. Oh, man, did I laugh at the line he read off of his book. I think you've got the hang of him now, so you shouldn't have to worry about that much.

Oh, and your last chapter made me giggle a lot too. It was really cute. So glad to finally have Leela in rescuing action! And of course it was great to have her make a stop at a kind of disturbing section of his thoughts. And well, this kind of disturbing isn't dirty disturbing of course... more like insanely weird disturbing. Which totally fits Fry. How they acted was so funny. I loved the toast line.

OK, well I think that about sums up my love for these last bits! And I will more than likely send you those really overdue ideas tonight  .

[Reply #357 on:]

Say what now: Really? Whoo! I'm all excited now.
Thanks for the kind words, as always. Ol'coot gave me quite a scare since he didn't like the chapter even with the rewrite and I was sad and nervous. But you liked the rewrite so I feel much better now. I'm glad that part interests you as well. I do want to make it at least at little bit interesting, though I must admit, it's been a slow start. Some pretty big things going to be happening there eventually though. Hugs!

Crash_7:That's what I meant. Thanks for the catch! And thanks for the encouragement!

Ol' coot:Sorry about that. I tried to fix it. I'm so glad you liked the latest update though. I felt better about that. And I'm very, very glad you're interested in Katy. (Remember I said something might be contreversial? Well... we're getting there.)

Thanks guys!

[Reply #358 on:]

i really liked the rewrite Layla. And i'm a little nervous about this 'controversial thing'.

[Reply #359 on:]

So glad you liked it Venus! I'm nervous that you're nervous, but if you really want to know, email me and I'll tell you (I can do it without spoiling too much of the story.) And remeber, if it is universally despised, I can cut it. Snippy, snippy. (Oh, and I'm glad you liked the slurm binge. Not particularly creative, but fun.)(Yay! You're still writing!)

Oh, and Mary Sue's are evil, and will not be in this story, so you don't have to worry about that at all.

Regarding the people I haven't gotten a chance to respond to yet:
JBERGES: Agh! Pressure! (You're starting a new story soon...right?) Hopefully the rewrite helped with some of the problems. Thanks for pointing that out! (Same to N-o-r and Morbo_it)
You know, as my wonderful beta reader, you'll be in charge of Zapp lines, right? Cause... yeah. I need the help. (Friendly internet kiss on the forehead with gratitude.) Your advice is always appreciated and welcome. I may have written more words, but I haven't yet finished anything, so you're the more experienced writer by far.

Nerd-o-rama: I'm glad you liked Zapp. I guess it's a female thing, but I find it really hard to come up with sleaze. You'd think it'd be different what with all the time I spend on the internet.    As to where is Kif, well, I like mysteries, don't you? (Tries desperately to spice up the mystery answer.)

Morbo_it: Thanks for the support, as always. I appreciate it!

say what now: Ah, you're such a dearie. Thanks so much. You always make me smile and feel good, even when I'm not feeling so good. It's easy to take constructive criticism when it's always so polite and encouraging at the same time. I have so many wonderful readers, including you! Thanks all! (Incidentally, the nice thing about the internet is that I can go smack myself around for a while, then come back and be cheerful! I'm hoping that when the tension actually starts to rise (what? You though this was tense?) I'll get excited and inspired and write lots and lots. I'm heading for a double climax, (i.e. one for Fry/Leela, one for everybody else) if I can pull it off, it should be very exciting.