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Author Topic: Yet another newbie posting fic.... (and maybe eventually some art)  (Read 9334 times)
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Starship Captain
« Reply #80 on: 07-24-2005 16:30 »
« Last Edit on: 07-24-2005 16:30 »

Originally posted by Shiny:

Leela glared pointedly.  Sometimes Fry could take a hint.  Sometimes he couldn’t pick one up if it had a five-foot, extendable handle and big glowing letters flashing HINT HINT HINT HINT HINT.

   :laff: That is the best line ever!   :cool: Great stuff so far,keep it up!

edit:TOTPD!  :)  :D  :eek:  :cool:

« Reply #81 on: 07-26-2005 22:36 »

Story of Unrevealed Title
Chapter 1, Part 3

Fry slouched back home, achey and dejected.  “I knew it was too good to be true,” he said to himself as he passed through Bender’s room,  shrugging out of his jacket.

The TV was on in the apartment, emitting beeps, laser blasts and explosions.  As Fry came within sight of it, Bender jumped up from the couch.  “I wasn’t playing your videogame!” he yelled, dropping the remote joystick from his hand.  “You left it on!  I wasn’t messing up the saved game with your highest score ever.  I was just sitting down to watch All My Circuits. When it comes on. In three hours.  So I need a lot of preparation time, get off my back!”

Fry nodded absently and tossed his jacket at the sofa.  He missed; it landed on Bender’s head.

“Well, now I’ve wasted a whole bunch of perfectly good excuses,” Bender said, slightly muffled.  He shoved the jacket off his head.  “Though I thank the misery that distracts you.  So, no date after all, huh pork pie?”

“Nope.”  Fry slumped down at the spool-table.  “Man, I can’t believe I misunderstood Leela.  Bender, you were there - what exactly did she say?”

Bender clapped a companionable arm on his shoulder (which hurt like a hunk of metal would, descending at speed on a soft human body part) as he sat down across from him.  “You forget that the conversation contained nothing about anything vital - namely me, Bender.  So, now what’re you gonna do for the day?”

“I dunno.” His eyes fell on the wall above the table.  Stuck there amid the food-delivery phone numbers, hookerbot addresses, and two-for-one entree/oil change coupons was an odd note of high culture: a flyer for the classical ballet, Buffy. “Man, if only I could have gotten tickets for that.  Leela really wanted to see it, but every show was sold out five days before the ticket office opened.  Bender, did you ever have any luck pick-pocketing scalpers?”

Bender made a rude sound as he lit a cigar.  “Nope.  It’s been a bad season for the theatre.  It’s gettin’ so an honest robot can’t steal tickets to a popular show unless he breaks into city hall, beats up three secretaries and a security camera, and raids the mayoral stash of reserved V.I.P. seats.  And so I did!”  Triumphantly Bender held up two tickets. 

Fry gasped in delight.  He could see the stylized wooden stake logo, and the gold V.I.P. border.    He squinted to read the fine print along the edge.  “‘First three rows may get drenched in blood!’  Wow, thanks, Bender!”

He reached for them, but Bender yanked them away.  “Not so fast.  First I want to hear just how amazing I am for getting them.”

“You’re beyond amazing.  You’re so amazingly amazing, you amaze David Copperfield’s head.  If they were giving out awards for being amazing, places one through ten would all go to you.  Can I have them now?”

“Not so fast!  Eight hundred bucks, please.”

“What?!”  Fry sat bolt upright, outraged.  “You said two hundred, plus a week of Bender waffles!”

“I gotta recoup my expenses,” Bender said, puffing in unconcern.  “That security camera put up quite a fight.  I got dents in places only Hookerbot 4000 knows about.”

Fry checked in his wallet.  “Four hundred’s all I got.  I’ll raise you a month of Bender waffles, and throw in one day of pretending to be your body servant.”

Bender mused, tapping his chin.  “If you’ll answer to ‘Jeeves,’ you’ve got a deal.”

“Done!”  Fry stood up and held out his hand.  They shook on it, and Bender handed over the tickets. 

Fry held them like they were priceless and fragile heirlooms.  “Wow, this is perfect.  Leela will have to go out with me now.  Although...to make sure, maybe I should show her our surprise first.”

“Our what?”

Fry frowned.  “Our surprise.  You know, in the basement at the office?”

“Fry, what did I just say about things that don’t concern Bender?”

“But this does concern you.  We’ve been working on it for a month.”

Bender waved his hand.  “A month is a long time to remember.  I only have four billion googlebytes of memory, you know.”

“You complained for four hours about it last night,” Fry reminded him.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Fry grinned slyly.  “Oh. Well then, I guess I don’t have to give you those Peter, Paul and Mary albums that Mom left in my Ronco Record Vault, after all.”

“Oh, THAT surprise!  Just kiddin’.  Heh!”  Bender finished his cigar and tossed it over his shoulder into the sink.  “Oh, by the way, Hermes called.  He wants us at work.”

“We must have a delivery.”  Fry brightened.  “This is perfect!  We can show Leela the surprise before we leave!  And then tomorrow night, I take her to a bloody vampiric ballet.  It’s so romantic, I could throw up right now!”

“I ain’t cleanin’ it.”  Bender rubbed his hands together. “So anyway, that’s all settled.  Let’s get to work.  The sooner we deliver some schmoe his worthless crap, the sooner we can come home and get massively drunk to celebrate.”  The doorbell buzzed, and Bender jumped up.  “Awright, I’m outta here!  Goodbye, jerkwad!”

Fry blinked as Bender rushed to the door, signed for something, and came back waving a long, silver envelope.  “Two weeks in the Xanadu Pleasure Dome!  In your face, dateless loser!”

Fry knew enough about the 31st century by now to be thoroughly impressed.  “The Xanadu Pleasure Dome?  That’s the most pretigious X-rated amusement park in the galaxy!  It’s way more expensive than Captain Billy’s Land of Orgasms.  How did you afford that?”

“I won it in a raffle.  Though personally I think they knew my raw charisma would enhance the place, and made up the raffle just to attract me.”  Bender shined his knuckes on his metal torso.  “Now I’m off to enjoy the most ecstasy a robot can experience without a personal hydroelectric dam.  Tell Hermes I quit!  And if I survive Xanadu, he can hire me back, an exhausted but satisfied shell of my former self.  So long, pork chumpling!  Oh, and good luck on your date with Leela.”  He paused.  “AH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!”  Belly-laughing, he went on his way.

Fry chuckled as he watched his roommate leave.  “Gosh, he loves to live.”  Then he blinked at the tickets in his hand.  “Waitaminute.  Now we can’t show Leela the surprise!  Although...that’s it!  I’ll show it to her after the ballet tomorrow.  She’ll be so happy.  Maybe she’ll see then how I really feel about her.”  Fry got up, put his jacket back on and stuffed the tickets in the pocket.  For once he couldn’t wait to get to work.  He gave smiled confidently to himself.  “Fry, old friend, things with you and Leela are finally lookin’ pretty good.”


“HOW could you be so stupid, Fry?!”  Leela cried.  “We could have all died!

Fry shrank into the collar of his jacket. 

Leela was brandishing a status report from the ship’s systems under his nose, while Hermes watched with satisfaction from behind her, arms folded in bureaucratic sternness.

“The minute the ship’s air fresheners came on we’d have been overwhelmed with radioactive sludge from the engines’ waste chamber,” Leela went on fiercely.  “That would have killed you and me instantly, and even Bender’s circuitry would have been permanently corrupted.  All because you wanted a little more hot water for a shower!”

“But Leela,” Fry said, “I didn’t do it, I swear!  I don’t even remember being in the maintenance room, not since the last time Bender rigged the mop to look like a space zombie!”

“Den how do you explain dis?” Hermes brandished a remote control.

The wall screen flashed on, showing the corridor of the Planet Express ship.  Fry saw himself emerge from the ship’s bathroom, hair sopping wet, wearing a towel and a disgruntled expression.  He entered the maintenence room; a few moments later he emerged, grinning.  “Heh heh,” the Fry on the screen said.  “Score one for the Fryster.”

The screen clicked off, and three angry eyes (five, if Hermes’ glasses counted extra) glared at him.

Fry blanched.  He did remember that scene...but not quite the same.  “No, it’s all wrong!  I didn’t go to the maintenance room, I went to the kitchen!  I realized I could get the soda fountain to dispense Slurm through the showerhead, so I could drink and wash at the same time!”

In answer, Hermes clicked the remote again.  It was a freezeframe, Fry in a towel heading through a doorway clearly marked “Maintenance Room.”

“Obviously,” Leela said through gritted teeth, “you went to the wrong room.”

Fry shrank a little more, if that were possible.  But the Slurm trick had succeeded, he thought desperately; there was a pile of sweet, sticky towels in his and Bender’s cabin to prove it!  Still, he could see the evidence to the contrary, right up on the screen. 

Fry realized that the whole incident had been after a drinking game with Bender.  Could he have been drunk enough to forget he’d done it once, and tried a second time?  A hot, guilty horror washed over him as he realized that he really had almost killed them all.  “Oh, God.  Leela, I’m so sorry!”

“Sweet committee of the city, he’s sorry!”  Hermes tossed his hand in the air.  “You woulda been a lot sorrier as a pile of radioactive meat on the floor, Fry mon!”

Fry stared at Leela’s boots, unable to look her in the eye.  “I’m sorry, Leela.  I won’t do anything like that again,” he promised.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Leela snapped, and Fry wished he could slag through the floor and collect in some forgotten corner of Scruffy’s quarters. 

Then Leela softened.  “All right, I guess that was uncalled for.  Apology accepted.  Now come on, Fry, I need someone to hold the gamma-blocker while I switch the connection tubes back.”

“Oh, by de way,” Hermes said crossly, “there’s a delivery in the drop box.  Since you two are such good friends again and no one is gettin’ beaten up, you might as well fly it out.”

Fry winced but didn’t dare say anything.  He went to follow Leela, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets.  He felt the tickets to the ballet, and rememembered why he’d been so eager to get to work.

“Hey, wait, Leela!  I almost forgot!  If you’re not busy tomorrow night, I have tickets to something you’d really - “

Fry stopped as both Leela and Hermes whirled and looked at him in fierce disbelief.

Fry realized his disastrous sense of timing had struck again.  “Uh...nevermind,” he said, but it was too late.  He’d blown it; she’d never agree now, no matter what the tickets were for.

Hermes smirked, but Leela just continued to look at Fry, as if wondering what had possessed him - aside from a self-destructive streak a lightyear wide - to ask for a date just now.

Then she said, “I’m not.”

Fry blinked.  “Huh?”

“I’m not busy tomorrow night,” Leela said in a neutral voice. 

Fry felt his jaw fall open.  Had he heard her right?  He must have, because Hermes’ chin had dropped, too.

Leela glanced from one man to the other.  “Well, come on,” she said impatiently.  “We have work to do.”

Hermes looked outraged - then he whirled and stalked off toward his office.  Fry guessed it offended his sense of order to have a chewing-out turn so quickly into a successful date-asking. 

Fry was a bit disconcerted himself.  For a moment he wondered if Leela was really Leela.; then he dismissed that thought.  An imposter Leela could not have duplicated her scathing reproof-voice so perfectly a few minutes ago.  Except for that red-haired Leela from the Professor’s box, of course, but Farnsworth had closed that portal and destroyed his box-making machine.

It seemed that Leela, for some reason, had agreed to go out with him. At least this time he knew he wasn’t crazy, Hermes had heard the same thing.

He only hoped Leela remembered it tomorrow.  Fry didn’t think his heart could stand another last-minute disappointment.


Urban Legend
« Reply #82 on: 07-26-2005 23:48 »

Originally posted by Shiny:
“We must have a delivery.” Fry brightened. “This is perfect! We can show Leela the surprise before we leave! And then tomorrow night, I take her to a bloody vampiric ballet. It’s so romantic, I could throw up right now!”


Brilliant. If you and JBERGES merged into one person i'd marry you.

Urban Legend
« Reply #83 on: 07-27-2005 06:52 »

Captain Billy’s Land of Orgasms.
That is simultaneously the worst and best choice of name ever.
“Fry, old friend, things with you and Leela are finally lookin’ pretty good.”
“HOW could you be so stupid, Fry?!” Leela cried. “We could have all died!
Heh, perfect juxtaposition.  I can picture that scene change in my mind.  Plus, the tildes made it look classy.
Keep it up, Shiny.

Bending Unit
« Reply #84 on: 07-27-2005 15:16 »

I have been AWOL from this thread for far, far too long. Oh, Shiny, you have such a range of writing. I just read through all your posted stories and I'm just amazed... and delighted and amused.

Still teared up for the Seymour story. I think you choose awesome topics for stories.

Still loved the shippy joy of the post Devil's Hands story.

Read the lovely, introspective, intriguing character sketch of Kif. You make him so real and human, for lack of a better term. Another awesome choice of topic. So unique!
Oh, and I loved the title and the ending was beyond touching, especially for a character that never really touched me.

Leela's adventure's with the coffee machine is great. Funny, and elegantly written. Leela's mood and fatigue come shining through. I knew it would be poor, unlucky Fry. Great intro chapter to your story.

The post-coffee apocalypse: I loved the connection between Nibbler and Fry, Leela's introspection in general, Bender's delinquintism, the mystery of forgetfulness that seems to be going around and Hermes getting annoyed because his "sense of order" was offended. Fantastic and addictive, everything fanfic should be.
Thanks for not abandoning us!  :)
Cap´n Skusting

Liquid Emperor
« Reply #85 on: 07-27-2005 23:03 »

OK. Now that you've given Venus some severely needed morale boosting, and I've backed you up on it, it's time you yourself, as "someone who spent long, hard decades learning to draw" put those skills to work and give us some of your own fan art!
Fan fic is nice, but I'm extremely lazy and in need of visuals.

Starship Captain
« Reply #86 on: 07-29-2005 12:50 »

Wow Shiny... That's a great story so far. Can't wait to read the rest of it.

Keep it up girl!

« Reply #87 on: 08-06-2005 01:15 »
« Last Edit on: 06-29-2006 00:00 »

I have a problem with...insecurity.  *sigh*

In my saner moments, I think I'm a pretty good writer, but I'm terrified whenever I post that readers are rolling their eyes or making exasperated Kif-noises at my stuff.  And I'm not alone - I have watched Layla lose confidence, Venus apologize with every segment she posts, and JBerges call his stuff "mediocre" in the thread title. And this is when people are only saying good stuff about our posts.  Insecurity is surely the writer's malady. 

Recently, when I submitted my first two stories to Futurama Madhouse, I left in some non-ASCII characters that didn't survive the translation to .txt, and it played merry hell with my usual overuse of quirky punctuation devices.  I was certain it ruined the overall effect of the stories, and obsessed about it (obsession is the other writer's malady).  People were rating my stuff well, but gosh, if they liked the flawed versions that much, what kind of scores was I missing not having the GOOD versions up?

The esteemed and benevolent Teral was kind enough to do the re-formatting necessary to replace them with the fixed versions.  All praise to Teral; may you live long and prosper as much as you deserve (which would surely make you the first person to celebrate their 200th birthday with a party on their own private island).

But I digress.  So here I was, just this evening, editing the next part of my current story, hoping to post it tonight but worried that it wasn't quite "ready," wondering if I should leave it for a few more days and then give it one more edit, but kinda eager to post anyway.

So, wracked by indecision, I popped in to TLZ/FM to see if my stories' scores had improved any - not that scores matter, of course.

Of course.

And...I found that not only did they not improve, they have all DROPPED their scores significantly.  Even the one I didn't have to fix.  And (of course) I have discovered that those scores DO matter, in my insecure little heart of hearts. 

So here I am, bummed out because some unnamed person didn't like my stories.  I'm wondering are they too shippy (or not shippy enough)?  Are they too short?  Not funny?  Does someone just not like my style?  Is there someone who just hates me and voted zero in all of them to bring my scores down?  (Paranoia - the third writer's malady).

It's not that I can't take criticism - I can (I think). I've said on this thread that all comments are welcome and I mean it.  It's the anonymity of the TLZ scores that gets me down.  I don't know why this unknown someone or someones didn't like my stories, I don't know what it is they didn't like, so there's no possibility I can ever fix the problem.  For someone who knows that nothing is ever perfect, but who thinks deep down that sometimes a story can be and wants all her stories to be that one, that's the most frustrating thing.


I know that when I'm sane, I think I'm a pretty good writer.  And now, even though I feel like a lousy writer and feel like I should edit the next segment for a MONTH at least, I'm going to try to overcome my insecurity by going ahead and posting it, imperfect as it may be. 


But first, let me apologize...to the other writers here, and the fine artists, to whom I do not comment enough. 

You may think because I stir myself to comment on some threads, and remain silent on others, that this indicates my opinion of said uncommented works: but it is not so.  I enjoy many, many stories (and many MANY art pieces) that I don't comment on simply because commenting involves more effort than I have energy for. 

It's a bad excuse, but...if I comment on a person's story, I feel obliged to keep commenting on their threads, so that they won't think I've suddenly gone off them or something.  So while I keep commenting on them, I become terrified to add anyone to my list of "people I must write comments to regularly or they'll think I hate them."  Insane, I know. 

So: my apologies to the fine writers and artists to whom I have remained silent.  The flaw lies not in your works, but in my sloth. 


Ahem...so.  Story segment.  This is a long segment, because it completes the setup for the rest of the tale.  I was going to put an angst-warning on it, but that's just another insecurity thing.  Right?  Right.

So, without further ado....

Chapter 1, part 4

Fry remained quiet through the repair job, holding the pistol-shaped gamma-radiation blocker steady and trying not to notice the fall of Leela’s hair brushing her shoulder, or the smooth way the muscles flowed under the skin of her arms as she worked.  He found (as he had before) that the remembered sight of the Professor in bed with Mom of Momcorp to be a good hormone-discourager.  When that failed, he thought of the goo-soaked mouthflaps of Edna making like a face-hugger from Alien on him, and the gooshy feel of the half-decomposed amoeba he’d put his hand on by accident after he left it in the fridge too long.

So fiercely did he concentrate on the thought of disgusting, non-erotic things, that he didn’t notice when Leela finished.

“I said, ‘all done, Fry,’” she repeated, putting her tools in the kit. “Thanks for holding the blocker so steady.”

“Huh?  Oh!  You’re welcome.”  Fry’s arms, held so long in one position, cramped as he moved them at last.  “Ow!” he said as his numb fingers began to tingle.  The gamma-blocker started to slip from his hands.

Fry grabbed for it, overbalanced, and lost his footing on the smooth deck.  “Whoa!” he yelled as he went over backward, finally losing all hold on the blocker.  He landed hard on his ass, and cringed, expecting the ker-smash of the device to follow.

But Leela’s quick reflexes had saved it.  It dangled from her left hand.  She sighed, stuck out her right, and pulled him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Fry said.  And, because it seemed so very unlikely at the moment, he asked “Leela?  Did you really say you’d go out with me tomorrow?”

She smiled wryly as she put the blocker back in its case.  “Yes, I did.  Really.  What time?”

“Uh...seven-thirtyish.  Unless you want to get dinner first?” he added hopefully.

“Let’s get a bite after,” Leela said.  “Where are we going?”

Still not quite believing his luck, Fry pulled out the tickets and showed her.

Leela gasped.  “You got tickets to Buffy? How did you manage that?”

Fry was tempted to play suave and imply some unspecified act of brilliance on his own part, but he was still unsure of just why she’d agreed to go - obviously, she hadn’t known about the ballet - and decided he’d better not push his luck.  “Well, I asked Bender if he would - “

“Hold it!  Stop right there.  I probably don’t want to know the rest.”  She gave him a warm smile.  “Though it was incredibly sweet of you to ask him to get ballet tickets.”

“Uh-huh,” Fry said, distracted as the warmth from her smile spread down to his toes.  He began to allow himself to believe this date was really going to happen.

“But we still have to deliver that package first,” Leela said, her tone going back to no-nonsense captain.  “You go stow it in the hold while I wash up and change my tank top.  I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

“Right,” Fry said smartly, saluting her (and poking himself in the eye in the process).  He bravely ignored the pain and hurried on his way, down the open stairway to the hangar, and across to the night drop.  The box there was small but heavy; Fry lifted it carefully, determined not to mess up on this mission, of all missions.  He carried it to the hold, secured it to the floor with instant spray-webbing (humming the Spiderman theme song as he did so), and then looked out the hatch.  “Hermes, we’re almost ready to - Hermes?  Hey, where are you?”

“Went home,” said Scruffy’s gravelly voice.  The janitor leaned on the hangar control console, arms folded; lazily he reached up and scratched his grey moustache.  “Called me up here to see you two off.”

“‘Okay.  We’ll be ready in a minute.”  Fry closed the door to the hold and bounded back up the stairs, closing that hatch behind him as well.  Leela wasn’t on the bridge yet, so he spun around on his chair, making whirring noises.  After he’d fallen out of his seat twice, he wondered how long Leela needed to change one tank top.  That thought, however, created a mental image he could not afford to dwell on, and he was once more forced to imagine wrinkly-old-people-naked-in-bed.

Finally Leela strode in.  Fry smiled at her as she went past him, but she rolled her eye and sat down in the pilot’s seat.  “Did you run the pre-flight and log the destination in?” she asked.

“Uh....” Fry tried desperately to think of a good excuse why he hadn’t.  Except, of course, that he never did.

Leela made an exasperated sound and started the pre-flight herself.  “Did you at least notice what sector the delivery is in?”

Fry wracked his memory for a clue from the package’s label.  “I think it was the M-90 Galaxy,” he finally dredged up.

“Great.  The middle of nowhere.  Scruffy, open the hangar doors, already.  Planet Express ship, ready for liftoff.”

“Cleared,” Scruffy’s voice said through the speakers.

With a roar that never failed to give Fry a thrill of excitement, they took off.  He watched the blue sky fade to violet and then to black in the blink of an eye, and held on to the seat (though the gravity pump kept all but the slightest trace of inertia from reaching the ship’s interior) as they passed the outer planets.  Soon they’d accelerated to cruising speed and the stars were drifting lazily by.  Except that Fry knew their speed was anything but lazy.  He loved seeing this, the image he’d watched on loads of movies and TV shows, but now knowing that it was for real.  Fry leaned back, put his feet up on his console, and settled in for a good trip’s starwatching.

Leela rose and spun on Fry.  “Just because we’re going out tomorrow is no reason to treat this job like a joke,” she said, grabbing his feet and shoving them off the console.  “Now get down to the hold and get me the correct address from that package!”

“Okay, okay,” Fry said, wishing Bender was there to make a sarcastic comment that he could laugh at.  He wondered if Leela was going through some kind of mutant-enhanced mood swings.

Unfortunately, she never swung back.  From that moment on, Fry could do nothing right in Leela’s eye; when he was on the bridge with her, she snapped at him for fidgeting and making noise.  When he went to take a nap in his room, she called him back to the bridge to check a lot of boring control readings. She interrupted him six times to help her with the checks she was running, and then she demanded to know why he wasn’t done with what he was supposed to be doing.  Finally Fry just resorted to sitting as quietly as possible, afraid anything he did would make tomorrow night’s date vanish into the same limbo this morning’s had.  The thought caused a stone of dread to form in his stomach.

At the same time, resentment was building.  Why in the world was Leela picking on him for doing the same things he always did?  If they bothered her so much, why did she agree to go on a date with him?

Or - the thought hit him from left field halfway through the flight - was it because she was going on a date with him?  Did she think accepting a date meant that she could try to make him over into someone better - like Michelle always tried to?  The thought alarmed Fry so much that if he’d been on the bridge with her, he’d have broken their date right then and there.  Luckily he was in the bathroom taking a whiz.  By the time he’d concluded his business, the panic had faded and he realized breaking a date Leela had voluntarily agreed to (without losing a bet or wearing a brain slug) would be spectacularly stupid, even for him.

So he dealt with the problem the way he usually dealt with sticky situations: he avoided it.  Fry hid in the maintenance closet (figuring that was the last place she’d look for him) and read comic books until he felt the Planet Express Ship landing.

Whistling, he went down to the hold to prepare for his stint as delivery boy.  He lowered the hatch on the hold, looking out at the planet.  It was cool and damp; he wished he hadn’t left his jacket in the maintenance room.  They were in a clearing in a thick blue-green forest, and  the landing pad was criss-crossed with dirt and vines.  In the distance he saw a dome-shaped building covered with a patchwork of mildew.

“Man, what a dump.  I hope this package contains cleaning supplies.” 

“Like you’ve ever come within two feet of a cleaning supply,” Leela said, descending the forward stairs and across to the cargo hatch.  She looked at him as he struggled with the webbing that held the box down, and made a rude sound.  “Oh, here, I’ll do it.”

She slid over and body-checked him out of the way.  Fry only escaped a second pratfall by grabbing onto the hatch’s support pole.  “Hey!”

“Stop whining,” Leela said, fighting with the webbing herself.

It hurt; and it made him boil.  He only resisted the urge to shove her back because he knew Leela could wipe the floor with him...and also the walls, and a good bit of the ceiling.  “Leela, will you stop it?  I’m the delivery boy, I can handle it!”

“Nothing has that big a handle,” she muttered.

Fry had enough.  “Leela, what’s with you?  You’ve been giving me a hard time since we left Earth!”

“You’ve been deserving it since we left Earth,” she said, casting him a one-eyed scowl.  Then she shifted position, turning her back (well, her butt) on him.

“I’ve been deserving it all my life, but a friend is somebody who doesn’t feel the need to point it out!” Fry willed her to look up from the box.  His will had no effect on her way, though, leaving him nothing to do but seethe.

Worse, he was too angry to enjoy the view of her from behind.  It figured. 

Wait - this wasn’t like Leela.  Maybe something was bothering her?  Swallowing his hurt, Fry said gently, “Leela, is anything wrong?”

Leela jerked a little, and Fry guessed he’d struck a nerve. “Cause I’m, you know, here if there is,” he added.

Leela finally straightened and turned to face him.  “Yeah, I guess there is something wrong.  I’m sorry if I’ve been a little bitchy, but I realize I’ve made a big mistake.”  She folded her arms and looked out at the forest, away from him.  “I have to break our date.  I’m sorry.  But I’ve been thinking, and I just really don’t think we should go out.”

Despite the fact that he’d half-expected it for the whole trip, it shocked him.  The stone in Fry’s stomach rose and shot through his heart like a cannonball.  “But Leela - the ballet!  You really wanted to go! You can’t back out now, when you let me get all hopeful and everything!”

Leela sighed.  “Fry, I felt sorry for you after this morning.  But I’ve thought about it since then, and I can’t make you happy by lying to you, or giving you false hope.  And that’s what it would be if we went out.”

“You don’t know that!” Fry said quickly.  “Besides, I can deal with false hope!  It’s no hope I can’t handle!”

“But I’m afraid that’s all I can offer you.”  Leela finally turned to face him, and there was something hard, diamond hard, about her gaze.  “Fry, you’re just not what I’m looking for in a man.  I hate to be blunt, but it’s time we both faced the truth.”

She was breaking his heart for good this time, and she wasn’t even being gentle about it.  Fry couldn’t believe this was happening, not when he thought he was finally beginning to get close to her.  “So that’s it?  You won’t even try going out with me, not ever?”

“I think it would be best not to.”

“Best for who?” Fry said bleakly.  He wasn’t going to beg...oh hell, who was he kidding?  He dropped to his knees and clasped his hands.  “Leela, please don’t do this to me!  Just this once, go out with me.  I won’t even ask for a kiss goodnight or anything. Just don’t give up on me without giving me this one last chance!”

Leela rolled her eye.  “Oh, Lord.  Fry, get up.  You’re not going to win any points by being more pathetic.”

She might as well have backhanded him.  Anger won the battle with hurt, and swept it out of the way.  “Fine!”  Fry stood up.  “But at least tell me - why are you doing this now?  Couldn’t you have waited until after tomorrow?  All I want is a fair shot at winning your heart.  What are you afraid of, anyway?”

“Afraid?”  Leela put her hands on her hips.  “I’m not the one afraid here, buddy.  You’re the one afraid to see that I don’t love you, and I never will!”

“Why not?!” Fry demanded.  “What’s so wrong with me?”

“You’re a loser,” Leela said coolly.  “Everything you do goes wrong, Fry, and today was just the last straw. I’ll be damned if I’ll link myself with someone like that.”

There was just no end to how much he could hurt, was there?  Fry tried to turn it back on her. “Oh - oh, yeah?!  I guess you prefer somebody like Zapp Brannigan, or Chaz the Mayor’s dork, or - or - that creep Alkazar!”

“Alkazar was at least good in bed!” Leela shot back, fists clenching.  “And Zapp Brannigan is a decorated admiral.  What are you?  A delivery boy. A nobody!”

Leela pushed him in the chest and down Fry went, flat on his ass.  She stood over him like a tower of vengeance.  “You’re a loser, Fry.  A pathetic, hopeless loser.  That’s all you are and all you ever will be. You’re nothing.  You’re less than nothing.  You follow me around like a puppy and hope to lick up scraps of my affection.  What gives you the right to think a beautiful woman could ever love you?”

She turned on her heel and walked into the ship, sealing the stairway hatch behind her.

Fry lay there in shock.  The world seemed far away, unreal...the sounds of the forest around him grew dim in his ears.  This couldn’t be happening. He’d thought Leela was at least his friend; now he didn’t even have that anymore.

He couldn’t feel pain. He couldn’t feel at all. It was like when Zoidberg cut off his arm; the loss was too great for the agony to get through right away. And that was only an arm.  This was more, much more.

Which meant that when the pain hit, it would be worse - unimaginably worse.

Fry got up and stumbled out from under the ship’s belly.  His legs felt numb, but he forced them to move, to carry him away from the hatch, away from the box, away from Leela, away from the pain that loomed like a monster just behind him. 

* * * * *

From the bridge of the Planet Express Ship, the purple-haired figure watched Fry run across the clearing; the green, dark woods swallowed his orange hair and white t-shirt as if they had never been.

“Perfect,” it said, and smiled.

* * * * *

Fry ran, the pine-like needles scratching his bare arms and whipping the tears off his face.  He didn’t care about it, he didn’t care about anything.  He was going to run until he collapsed because he couldn’t think to do anything else.

Then he heard a sound that stopped him dead.

The ship’s engines roared into life.

“What?” Fry spun around and saw the rocket flames rising through the trees.  “Leela, no!”

Just as recklessly, he charged back the way he came.  Fry got to the clearing just in time to see the ship’s exhaust-fire vanish to a point, like a far-off star in the indigo sky.

“Noooo!  Leela, come back!  I’m not on board, come back, come back!” Uselessly, he waved his arms and jumped up and down.

The point of light faded and was gone.

Fry sank to his knees, holding his chest.  The air burned in his lungs and sick dread settled in his stomach.  “She’ll come back,” he said breathlessly.  “I just have to wait.  She’ll see I’m gone and come back.”  It never occurred to him that she wouldn’t.  She might not love him, she might be mad at him, but she was still the same Leela who’d saved his life time and time again.  He knew she’d come back to get him the way he knew he loved her: a knowledge that went deep in his bones, beyond doubt or second thoughts.

But he might have to wait a long time.

Fry shivered, cold in just his t-shirt.  The planet was getting chillier, and he saw why: night was falling.  He sat back against the thick bole of a tree and hugged his arms.  He glanced up, saw again the white dome-building.  “I need to get inside till she comes back,” he said.  “Hey, and maybe they have a phone!  I can call her and let her know I’m still here!” 

Fry got up and ran toward the dome. When he got to the doorway he stood panting for a moment on the leaf-covered concrete deck, bent over, hands on his knees to support himself.  Why hadn’t anyone on this stupid backwoods planet turned on a light yet?  Conserving energy could go too far!

He pushed himself upright and approached the door.

It was an old-fashioned hinge door, and it was slightly open.  Blackness showed in the crack beyond.

“Hello?” Fry said, pushing it gently.  It swung open; he advanced into the darkness, squinting to see.  There was some kind of light inside, though very dim.  He rapped on the door.  “Hello, uh, Planet Express delivery,” he said, though he of course had no box.  He guessed it was lying, forgotten, on the floor of the ship’s hold.  “I need to use your phone for just a minute, hello?”

His eyes adjusted to the gloom; the pale light came from a gaping hole in the dome opposite the door; the last grey fingers of dusk showed a bare floor covered with dead leaves and a few broken bits of plaster-like material.  Black laser-scorches marked the walls.

“If that box was cleaning supplies, they’re gonna need a second order,” Fry said to himself.  “I guess they don’t believe in brooms.”  He sniffed the air.  “Or mildew-remover.  Or furniture.”  He cupped his hands around his mouth.  “Yo!  Delivery boy in distress!”  No answer came. Disgusted, he put his hands on his hips.  “Jeez, it’s like nobody’s lived here in years or something.  I’ll bet they don’t tip, either.”

He heard a rustle behind him.

“Yipes!”  Fry jumped and spun around. 

He could only see darkness now; the door had swung silently shut. 

“Who’s there?” he said, fear arising in his heart.  He backed up until he was below the hole in the dome, standing in the last bit of light left.  It wasn’t much. 

He heard another rustle to his right; when he spun toward it, another one came from behind.  He was surrounded by shadowed rustlings, and Fry was beginning to think of Stephen King books and Wes Craven movies. 

“N–now let’s not be hasty,” he said to the shadows.  “You don’t want to eat me.  I’m full of cholesterol and fat.  I’d probably stop your heart the minute you bit into me!  Plus I haven’t showered in five days, and I’m sure you don’t have enough hot sauce to cover that up.  Plus I...I’m radioactive!” he added in a burst of brilliance.  “Yeah, I just spent twelve hours fixing the engines!  You’ll have to decontaminate me for hours to make me safe, and then I’ll have that nasty reactor-burn taste and everything.  And the diarrhea - you don’t have enough Kaopectate, believe me!”

The darkness was almost complete.  The rustlings were closing in, and Fry gave himself up for dinner, when a voice spoke. It was thin and whispery, but it spoke English.  “We don’t want to eat you, human.”

“Whew!  Man, was I scared!”  Fry laughed in nervous relief.  Then he stopped.  “Hey, wait a minute - then why are you surrounding me in the dark?  What do you want to do with m...”

They leaped, and Fry screamed.  It was the last sound he made for some time.


Leela had trouble waking. She seemed to be buried in layers of black sleep and dark dreams, and ascending through them was like swimming up through the strata of the earth. Tangling roots and weird chthonic creatures tried to drag her back, but some inner urgency kept her trying. 

When she heard the sound of the door to her quarters opening, it gave her the final boost she needed.

The conscious world, however, was only slightly less hazy than the unconscious one.  She was lying on her bed, and the back of her neck stung from some insect bite.  Leela raised her head (it was like lifting a planet) and blinked at the blurry figure in the doorway.  After a moment it resolved itself into the orange hair and red jacket she knew so well.

“Leela, you’re awake!” Fry said.  “Are you okay now?”

“W-what happened?” she asked.  She was lying on top of the covers, wearing her clothes but no boots.

“You fainted on the bridge,” Fry said, sitting right beside her, his face pinched with concern.  “How are you feeling?”

His sudden nearness disconcerted her.  She scooted a few inches back from him.  “I’m fine,” she said automatically, although it felt like the artificial gravity had doubled.  Still, Fry had walked with no problem, so it couldn’t be that.

“Great,” said Fry, and then he leaned down and planted a kiss on her.

Leela’s eye popped wide.  It wasn’t a chaste kiss.  She cringed inwardly as his tongue dove for her tonsils, but she was so surprised, she didn’t know how to react - until she felt his hand creeping up under her tank top.

Leela knew how to react to that.  She slugged him.

It wasn’t her best effort - she still felt logy - but it knocked him off the bed.  Leela sat up and wiped her the cold spittle from her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“OW!” Fry said, sitting up and rubbing his jaw.  “What was that for?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said, outrage starting to clear the cobwebs from her mind.

“I was kissing you,” Fry said, matter-of-factly.  “Why shouldn’t I?  We’ve been dating for two months.”

“Two months?!” Leela felt as though the deck had tilted sideways - and it wasn’t just the lightness from sitting up too fast.  That explained why the kiss had felt somehow familiar.  It didn’t, however, explain why it had felt vaguely...disturbing.

“Ever since we went to the ballet,” Fry said.  “Oh, man.  Leela, don’t tell me you forgot it all!”

Shock was robbing her of the ability to answer. Dating Fry?! A strange double reaction was going on inside her.  One part was panic - No, it’s impossible! - and the other was a strange relief.  That, she didn’t want to examine too closely.

Fry had scrambled up on one knee.  “Leela, don’t look at me like that,” he said, all frightened sincerity.  “It took me so long to win your heart - please don’t tell me I have to start over again!  Don’t you remember anything?”

“I....I don’t know,” Leela said.  She tried to remember - really tried.  She remembered accepting his date, but after that it was all dark. 

“Please, Leela,” Fry said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed again.  He gently took her hand and leaned forward.  “If you can’t remember, I’ll just die.  Let me...let me try to remind you.”  He leaned closer, his lips inches from hers.  “Please, Leela.  It’s me, Fry.  You trust me, don’t you?  Let me show you what we shared.”

Leela was reeling. Fry was so close, his hair was almost brushing hers, she could smell the faint scent of his skin.  Part of her wanted to pull back, to shove him away, but the other wanted to surrender to the strange relief - to accept it, to just let herself be with Fry...to hold him, to let him comfort her as he had once before....

And then something snapped into place.

Just before his lips touched hers, Leela punched him. This time, her full strength was behind it.

He flew backward, halfway across the room.  Leela slid off the bed facing him, her hands balled into fists. 

“OWW!  Leela, will you stop it?!”  It was Fry’s voice, Fry’s look of pained confusion.

But Leela knew better.  “Who are you?!  You aren’t Fry!  What the hell are you doing on my ship?!”

It was his smell - it was all wrong.  Leela knew what Fry smelled like, how could she not?  They had hugged each other in the hospital, both of them stinking like only people who hadn’t bathed in two weeks could.  Leela remembered it with fierce clarity, the smell of unwashed Fry mixed together with the joy and relief of knowing that he wasn’t dead after all.  Sometimes Leela dreamed of her long nightmare - dreamed of waking up in the world where Fry was dead.  And always, when she began to panic, the smell of him came back to her.  She would wake up with it all around her, safe in the certainty that it was too sharp, too rank to be the product of her imagination - it had to be a memory of the real world.

“Leela, you’re not feeling well,” not-Fry said, backing away from her.  “Let me just go get you something to drink, and we’ll - “

For answer, she sprang into a side-kick, intended to smash that false face.

But her reflexes were still dull - and his were fast.  Faster than Fry’s had ever been.  He dodged aside.

“What’s wrong?” he sneered, breaking the last of his resemblance to Fry.  “Your little Galahad would never try to cop a feel?  So much for a little pre-gloating recreation.”

The Fry-body expanded, almost exploding outward.  His clothes tore off with a ripping sound.  Leela screamed as it circled, surrounded, engulfed her.  It constricted and she was caught fast, cocooned in the thick loops of an enormous snake.

Leela tried to free her arms - or just one -  but the snake-muscles flexed, and suddenly all the air went out of her chest, squeezed out like toothpaste.  Worse, she couldn’t inhale again - there was no room for her lungs to expand.  She struggled, but it was like fighting against bands of cold-pressed steel. 

The snake-head hovered just in front of her face, watching with interest.  “Who are you?”  Leela tried to say, but could only squeak the words airlessly.

“Heh-heh, I knew you’d ask that,” said the snake face, and the voice wasn’t Fry’s any more.  It was deeper, and familiar in some way, but she couldn’t place it - she was too busy passing out.

Abruptly the coils loosened, and Leela’s desperate lungs sucked in air.

“I should be insulted you don’t remember,” said the snake, and its features shifted.  Suddenly she was looking at a humanoid face on the end of a snaky neck.  It had one eye, like hers.  “Considering we were fiancés.”

Memory warred with disbelief.  “Alkazar?!”

“The one and only,” Alkazar’s voice hooted.  “Still the one and only, that is.  Unmarried and last of my species.  Unlike you, who I hear found your gross and disgusting people in the sewers.  How’s it feel, knowing you’re really a mutated freak?”

But the implications of Alkazar’s presence alarmed her far more than the swipe at her parents.  “You bastard!  Where’s Fry?  How did you get here?!”

“Hah!” Alkazar crowed.  “I’ve been here for a while.  You guys really need to stock your kitchen better.  And what’s with the metal shavings in the beer?  I had to spend four hours as a Logubrian slug to clear that out of my system, and I couldn’t work the remote.  Do you know how boring the Cooking Network gets at three A. M.?”

Everything that had happened in the last few days became clear.  “It was you who hooked up those tubes wrong, not Fry!”

“Yeah, it was me.  And it was me who discovered it, too.”  His head took on Hermes’ features and voice.  “I wanted you good ‘n mad at Fry, mon.”  He shook his head disgustedly, and switched back .  “And it worked.  He asked for that date at the worst possible time - but you said ‘yes’ anyway.”  Again, he shifted, displaying her own face, her purple ponytail, and what she assumed was her voice. “Even after I got him to show up at your apartment this morning.  Maybe that was overdoing it - was it a pity gesture?”

He shifted back to his Alkazar-as-cyclops and sprouted human arms and a torso; it melded into the snake-body at the waist, like a mermaid’s.  He planted his fists smugly on his lack of hips.  “So I decided I’d better take over for the rest of the flight.  Have a nice nap?”

“H-how are you doing those voices?” Leela asked.  He hadn’t done that before. 

He gave her a disdainful look.  “Lady, I’m a shape-shifter.  I can make my vocal cords take any shape I want.  After that, it’s just a matter of getting down the accent and phrasing.  All I had to do was hang out and listen for a few days.”

Again his face changed. “Scruffy’s been workin’ a little overtime,” he said in the janitor’s gravelly voice.  And again, he reverted back.  “The Professor’s a good cover, too - I can pretend to fall asleep if someone asks me anything.  I tried being that lobster-thing once, but I smelled too bad even to me.”

Leela was boggled by the extent of his planning.  “You voluntarily became Zoidberg?  What made you that desperate?  Alkazar, what is all this about?”

“It’s about revenge, dollface,” he barked.  Something dark blazed in his eye.

It made no sense to Leela.  “Revenge - because I got away from you?”

“ No, genius - revenge because I lost everything I had!”

Alkazar leaned closer, his voice soft but his face savage. “A lot happened after you and your friends left.  In fact, if I weren’t a shapeshifter, I’d be dead by now.  Sandy’s mother arrived and gave me a good trampling, the lead-footed cow. The other three just split, and I never saw Ixtaphiple or Bree-whoot again.  I figured at least I still had my castles, and a few treasures your robot couldn’t fit in his chest.  So there I was, surfing the ‘Net to find new lonely hearts, when Rohannavu - the five-eyed broad - came back.  And she brought her brothers with her.”

Alkazar’s eye went far-away, and haunted.  “Seems they had some idea of avenging their sister’s ‘honor.’  Can you believe it?  You don’t want to know what they did to me, Leela.  And when they found out I didn’t die from it - that I could shapeshift into something that could heal itself - they did it again. And again And again.”

His gaze returned to the present, and he seemed to swell with fury. No, he really did swell, the humanoid parts growing until they loomed over her, until her small cabin seemed like it couldn’t contain him.

“You want to know where I was since you last saw me?  I was in Hell, lady, run by a gang of google-eyed sadists!  Before, I had it all - five broads too stupid to leave me, five castles to keep’em in, and enough leftover gold to rent slasher films for the rest of my comfortable life.  I went from king of an empty planet to being a pathetic, mewling wreck - all because of your little red-haired Romeo!”

For the first time, Leela realized that she wasn’t the target of Alkazar’s revenge. Cold, sick dread washed through her.  “What have you done with Fry?!”

“I didn’t do anything, Leela - you did!”  Alkazar crowed in triumph.  Once more he assumed her own face and voice.  “You two finally had a loooong talk about your relationship.  You should’ve seen his face when I told him what you really think of him!”

“NO!  You bastard!”  Leela struggled desperately, but he still held her fast in his serpent-coils.  It was like fighting a cocoon of granite.

He shifted back.  An insane light glowed in his face.  “You should thank me, Leela.  I got rid of him for you.  You’ll never have to turn down a date with him again.”

Got rid of him?  It was as though a laser burned her heart out of her chest.  The strength went out of Leela like water.  “Y-you...he...no, oh no...”

He sneered at her.  “Ah, can the waterworks, he’s not dead.  Why should he get off easy?  I sure didn’t!  I just left him back on that planet - with some friends of mine.  They’re slave traders, honey, and even I don’t know where they’ll sell him. Hell, even they don’t know - they work through about ten thousand distributors who don’t keep records.  But look on the bright side - there’s only about a hundred billion planets where slavery is still legal.  If you’re lucky, you might narrow it down to the right galaxy before he dies of old age!”

This couldn’t be happening.  “Alkazar, no,” Leela said desperately.  “Fry only did it because of me - I’m the one you want!  If you have to take revenge on someone, take it out on me!”

He gave her an incredulous look.  “For what?  I had you right where I wanted - you tough chicks from doomed species are all the same.  You think you’re so independent, but get one sight of a male you’re not related to, and fall over yourselves doing anything he wants.  Nah, it was a man who got you out of that one. Even a klutz with two brain cells was enough - my mistake, I thought he only had one.”

Rage swept through her, fanning the flames of her desperate fear into a firestorm.  Leela strained with all her might to break the serpent-body’s hold.  For a minute she thought she was winning.

Then - “Hey!  Knock it off!”  Alkazar tightened his coils, just a little squeeze, but it caused pain to engulf Leela’s body.  She screamed as her vision went red, and then began to blacken.

“No, you don’t,” Alkazar said.  “Not till I say so.”  He loosened her again, just enough that she could pull in air. 

But her strength was gone; cold sweat broke out on her body.  Leela wanted to beg, to plead with him to let her get to Fry before it was too late, but she knew he’d just laugh.  People like Alkazar only responded to fear, and she had very little to threaten him with.

She used what she had.  “Alkazar,” she promised softly, “if I can’t find Fry, I’ll hunt you down.  If anything happens to him, I’ll find you, I swear.”

“Ooo, I’m shakin’ in my snakeskin,” he said.  “You won’t find me.  Besides, what do you care what happens to him?  You’ve been brushing him off for years!  If you gave a crap about him, you’d have done something about it after he wrecked my plans.  But you kept him dangling, just close enough to use him - hell, you didn’t even have to marry him!  I probably could have learned a thing or two from you.”

“No!” Leela cried, appalled.  She tried to protest, but he put the squeeze on her again, and she couldn’t breathe.

“Hey, do you mind? I’m talking.”  Alkazar crossed his arms over his chest and leaned close.  “My ride is waiting, so the conversation’s almost over.  I just wanted to tell you that whatever happens to Fry is your fault.  If you’d given the poor schmuck more than a few dribbles of what passes for your love, nothing I said could’ve hurt him.  But you shoulda seen it - the High Priest of Splattercon 5 couldn’t have ripped out his heart any better.  Now the last memory he has of you is of what a joke you think he is. My congratulations, Leela - I couldn’t have destroyed him without you!”

No, NO! Leela struggled, useless as it was - she was desperate beyond reason.  She had to get out, get away from him, get to the bridge, get to Fry.  But she couldn’t move - she couldn’t even take a breath.

Once again, her consciousness waned.  Alkazar examined her with a calculating eye.  “You probably won’t come to for a while, but I need to make sure of it.  So, time for another nap, sweetie.”  He held up his serpent tail, and she saw it take on a segmented, pointed form.  A sickly-pale, translucent stinger hovered just before her eye, a drop of golden venom oozing from its tip. 

It seemed impossible, but Leela’s panic surged higher, expanded like a supernova. But she had no way to fight or escape. 

The stinger touched her neck, lightly, almost delicately.  Alkazar let her go, shifting from the snake/cyclops hybrid to his true form at last - the little insect-man Leela remembered from before.  But this time, he didn’t look scared or pitiable.  His eyes burned with a terrible joy as Leela collapsed on the carpet of her quarters.  She tried to raise herself, but the venom stole through her, swift and cold.  The last thing she saw was Alkazar’s triumphant, hungry face, leaning closer to drink up the last possible drops of her defeat.


Edited - thanks, Venus!

Urban Legend
« Reply #88 on: 08-06-2005 02:06 »
« Last Edit on: 08-06-2005 02:06 »

Shiny, first off, try not to worry about TLZ rankings.  I’m not just saying this to make you feel better or anything, it's just that they truely mean nothing.  I've watched my rankings cavort up and down the standings for over a year, and I've made a simple conclusion.  If you pass someone's fic in the rankings, the person who wrote that fic (or some fan of said person) will give you a zero and bomb you back down.  It's best not to worry about why, and just accept the fact that the ratings system is nothing but a test of how many IP addresses you have available to sway the overall rankings.  It’s frustrating, yes, but there’s nothing you can really do about it, as revenge proves childish and unfulfilling.  Your stories are good, Shiny, and solid feedback here will always mean more than an ambiguous number open to alteration by anyone.

As for the punctuation mishaps, I’ve been through the same thing.  The first two stories I ever posted have every ellipse (...) replaced with a question mark, making every character seem a crap-load more interrogative than I planned them to be, since I tend to trail off most sentences like this...  By now most readers understand that punctuation may be off due to html errors, so it's not too big of a deal.

In conclusion, almost every writer here is insecure, from the experience I’ve had; perhaps a humble spirit begets an active imagination.  Sometimes you’ve just gotta throw what you have out there, and be confident that you’ve at least written as best you can for the time being, and that any criticism will be constuctive.  While I’m a bit too... un-sober to read and review your work right now, I’ll be back later to tell you what I think.  I hope some of this helped                  a bit.  If you’re ever a little anxious or unsure, I don’t know a fic-writer here that doesn’t enjoy an E-mail from a fellow writer.  ...and apologies accepted if I’m one of the people on that list of yours.     :)  Until later...

Urban Legend
« Reply #89 on: 08-06-2005 02:45 »
« Last Edit on: 08-06-2005 02:45 »

Holy Freaking Crap man, i swear. My nerves can't take that last chapter. Everytime Al squeezed leela i stopped breathing. I want my mommy. Or one of my kitties, but they're sleeping. That chapter was awesome though. I knew something was up as soon as 'Leela' reffered to herself as a beautiful woman. But you had me going up until then. I'm gonna go nuts until you post the next bit!

The only complaint i have is that you reffered to Leela's 'eyes' twice.

Edit: I don't apologize with every post i make do i? if i do i'm sorry!

« Reply #90 on: 08-06-2005 15:48 »
« Last Edit on: 08-06-2005 15:48 »

The only complaint i have is that you reffered to Leela's 'eyes' twice.

Eeep!  Man, that is SO hard to catch...I know I zapped about ten of them already...
[Fixed]  Thank you, Venus.

Edit: I don't apologize with every post i make do i? if i do i'm sorry!

  :love: You're a doll, and no, of course not.  Just when you're talking about your story.  And I know how you feel, believe me - my instinct is to do the same thing.  I'm only slowly weaning myself from it...


And JB.  You rock, and you are correct. 

I am saddened to think that someone who I may have given an honest score to used up theirs just to pull my score lower...but I feel sorry for them - being so petty is its own punishment - and not so sorry for myself.    Thank you.


Urban Legend
« Reply #91 on: 08-07-2005 15:45 »
« Last Edit on: 08-07-2005 15:45 »

Anytime, Shiny.  You're a nice gal and should be at the top of the list for best new PEELer 2005 when the PEELies come around.

*finally reads Shiny's work*

Woah, snap, that was intense.  You played that all so well from the beginning; something seemed amiss from the very start but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.  In particular, I couldn’t figure out why exactly Hermes looked outraged after Fry's date proposal turned unexpectedly successful after I read the last part.  Now everything makes sense; that’s some excellent writing.  The way Alkazar talks makes me think he’s been stalking them for a rather long time, waiting for the right moment to strike... very creepy indeed. His dialogue with Leela was very dark, vastly poignant.  What can I say?  I could never write a scene like that so well.  Keep it up.   

Bending Unit
« Reply #92 on: 08-07-2005 17:25 »

Originally posted by Shiny:
I have a problem with...insecurity.  *sigh*

Don't we all? Ohmigosh, Shiny, sweetie! I was sooo very sad that you're upset!! Bergey once told me, and I don't think he'd object to me quoting him, that sabotage is the sincerest form of flattery. You're just too fantastic a writer, someone's bound to get jealous. Heck, I'm jealous! (Didn't sabotage you though.)

I hope you feel better. I have a a very high opinion of your writing, if that means anything. I mean, in this last part I spent the first half or so just laughing in delight. (Does anyone else do that? Laugh for the sheer happiness of it all. Maybe it's just me... I do it all the time, excited little giggles. I had this bad feeling for fry all the way through, and yet Fry was so happy, I was just smiling... and then by the end of it I was devastated. Ooh, I'm so worried about them!

You are very good at tugging on my heartstrings. Played me like a fiddle.
(Speaking of losing confidence, I read writing from you, Bergey, Gorky, Venus, Dr. T, lots of people, and I have to fight the urge to throw in my keyboard. Seems silly coming from me, right? But it's easy to be intimidated.

Back to your story. I loved Fry being adorably hormonal and his strategies for hormonal supression were both nauseating and hilarious.

How did you manage to turn shippy bliss into agonizing suffering anyway? I must find a way to gain this strange power.

Great idea to bring back Alkazar. He's so evil and scary. You've completely hooked me into the plot. I have no idea what's going to happen and I wanna know!!

Did she think accepting a date meant that she could try to make him over into someone better - like Michelle always tried to?  The thought alarmed Fry so much that if he’d been on the bridge with her, he’d have broken their date right then and there. 
And you show us that tiny little bit of self-respect Fry has, hooray! Then immediate point out:
he realized breaking a date Leela had voluntarily agreed to (without losing a bet or wearing a brain slug) would be spectacularly stupid, even for him.
Which is roughly what I was thinking even while enjoying the sight (not literally) of Fry's backbone.

For awhile I figured Leela was possessed or something, cause I couldn't imagine her being as nasty as that to him. So very angsty. (Happy sigh.)

The PE ship leaving Fry behind completely freaked me out. In fact I'm pretty sure I said, "Oh no!" out loud, and I hardly ever vocalize while reading.
She was breaking his heart for good this time, and she wasn’t even being gentle about it.  Fry couldn’t believe this was happening, not when he thought he was finally beginning to get close to her.  “So that’s it?  You won’t even try going out with me, not ever?”
Yeah, so this is where I started whimpering. Poor poor Fry. If he weren't fictional I'd give him such a hug!

Anger won the battle with hurt, and swept it out of the way. 

Just fantastic writing. The order of the revelations is perfect and the tension is amazing. Snapped a few of my fiddle strings.

“Alkazar was at least good in bed!”
:laff: And looking back, this is such a funny line. Too awesome!

Fry got up and stumbled out from under the ship’s belly.  His legs felt numb, but he forced them to move, to carry him away from the hatch, away from the box, away from Leela, away from the pain that loomed like a monster just behind him. 

Goosebumps. My skin was positively crawling by this point, and didn't real stop until the end. You're gonna update soon right? Not like me?

The smell thing was just great. Smell is something we don't think about much with people, but it really does tell us a lot. Nice connection to the sting. Nice connections all around really. I was extremely pleased to see action(TM) Leela too.

The whole confrontation between Alkazar and Leela was amazing. I especially liked the last paragraph, the way Alkazar accused her of using Fry and the way he was using Leela to get revenge of Fry.

That's really in character, in my opinion. alkazar seems like the type who wouldn't give a woman any sort of credit, even the one who mopped the floor (and the wedding cake) with him. I loved that he sort of vaults over Leela to blame Fry.

Anyhoo, insecurity really makes you part of the writing crew, so don't feel bad about that. Lot's of people think you're a great writer, so don't let a number get you down. Oh, and feel free to email me. I love emails! Makes me feel all special like. We can comiserate in our insecurities!

Huggles!  :love:

Space Pope
« Reply #93 on: 08-07-2005 19:27 »
« Last Edit on: 08-07-2005 19:27 »

Now, before I explain why I haven't commented on your fantastic story yet, I would like you to look over there for a moment.

*Runs away*

Wait, you weren't expecting an explanation? (I mean, look at who we're dealing with here.) Very well, then.

*Walks back...slowly*

Wondering what the hell I'm saying? (Don't worry, happens all the time.) Basically, the thing is that I've been lurking around this thread for the past month or so, just being my usual lazy self. By which I mean that, while I've been reading your Story of Unrevealed Title (ooo...spooky), I haven't actually taken the time out of my...um..."busy" schedule to comment on it. Which is just plain old wrong.

So, um, on with the commenting, I guess...


Absolutely hilarious. You write from Leela's P.O.V so well. I particularly enjoyed this...

She had been up too late the night before; this lag between coffee doses was a rare and dangerous time - woe be unto they who bearded the half-woken Leela in her den at such a moment.

Clearly, the idiot who rang her doobell was both A) tired of living, and B) too cheap to shell out the quarter for a suicide booth.

Leela would be glad to oblige him.

That's just such great writing. So, um, yeah...me likey.

I love when grown people argue like Fry and Leela did over the Yes/No to the date issue. Yes, I have the mentality of a two-year-old. Deal with it.

And, like your Leela writing, your Fry writing is hysterical. "Ow, my myofascia!" is quite possibly the funniest thing I've heard in a while. I don't know why...just is. Physical comedy is hard to write in prose, but you pulled it off. Kudos on that.

I also liked your mention of Nibbler's relationship with Fry. An interesting observation, at the very least, and a great call-back to the Nibblonians and Fry's destiny and junk.

And hey, there's some of that shippy stuff that I love! You really had a handle on the Leela aspect of the ship (having her feel bad about her actions, but not having her melt into an ooey-gooey puddle of love tm), and I like that. I mean, anyone can write syrupy internal monologues that will make all shippers happy (and nauseous), but it's great to see that writers like you, Layla, and Venus don't do that. It keeps the story from becoming one big cliched mush-ball.

Nice job.

You really nailed Fry's part of the ship nicely. He felt a bit hurt, a bit embarrassed, a bit stupid. But he didn't wallow in self-pity. Which is exactly the way it should be. Like Leela said, he's happy-go-lucky. Sure, being rejected again would hurt, but Fry always bounces back...at least on the show. And in this fic (and a few choice others). Which is a good thing.

And Bender was great. He's not cruel...he's just Bender. And that's just funny.

Speaking of funny, this...

“We must have a delivery.” Fry brightened. “This is perfect! We can show Leela the surprise before we leave! And then tomorrow night, I take her to a bloody vampiric ballet. It’s so romantic, I could throw up right now!”

...was just great. Hooray for Shiny, maker-upper of funny-yet-disturbing jokes!

First off, I would like to thank you for listing all of those "disgusting, non-erotic" things. I'm officially off sex for about a decade.

Fry did sort of slip into this resentment phase that I didn't totally agree with. I mean, given Leela's actions prior to the actual delivery, I can see why Fry would be mad at her, it's just that I don't particularly like that apsect of the formulaic ship-fic. Still, I can excuse it for the most part, because the rest of this story is just so dang great, and not the formulaic ship-fic by any means.

Now, as for that fight, Fry's anger is fully justified in that instance. That was just plain nasty on Leela's part. Well-written nastiness, but that's still nastiness.

Or was it really Leela? Of course not. The plot's kicking in, and I'm liking what I see. Like Bergey said, it's definitely intense. Nothing wrong with that, though--just makes the story all the more intersting, right?

And also, somehow, you managed to make the part of me that's a shipper really happy. I mean, you managed to work in Leela's feelings for Fry--be they love or just an extreme sense of friendship--which I always enjoy. Especially when it's not sappy ship, but vengeful ship. (Is there such a thing?) What I mean is, Leela is being faced with this horrible situation regarding Fry, and her reaction (something like, "Alkazar," she promised softly, "if I can’t find Fry, I’ll hunt you down. If anything happens to him, I’ll find you, I swear" ) is incredibly--dare I say it?--sweet. Even in the whole "Omigawd, Fry's gonna die!" context.

It's official...I'm nuts.

So, that's it. What else is there to say, really? Oh yeah, there's no need for you to be insecure. Like JBERGES said, every writer goes through that whole "Man, I suck" sort of thing, but they're usually entirely off-base. Like in this case. Your stories are great, and that's all that matters. I think that, if I write something that only one person enjoys, it'll still be worth it. And, if I write something that I truly enjoy, then it's even better. First and foremost, you have to write for yourself. Do your best job, and then go out there with an open-mind and face what other people have to say. You'll see that, like everyone in this thread, people will almost always have a positive response towards a story as enjoyable as this one.

I'll make you a deal. You keep up the fantastic work, and I'll try writing a coherent sentence every once in a while.
Ralph Snart

Agent Provocateur
Near Death Star Inhabitant
DOOP Secretary
« Reply #94 on: 08-08-2005 12:11 »

Fantastic work Shiny.  Hope to see more in the near future!

Starship Captain
« Reply #95 on: 08-10-2005 14:02 »
« Last Edit on: 08-10-2005 14:02 »

Shiny!!!   :eek:

Wow that part was really great! It was even a bit scary. (I don’t get scared often by stories and movies)

I really liked the way you managed the story. (The way you wrote it so we could not find out to quickly what was going on.)

Also, Shiny, Don’t worry about your rating on TLZ . I find your stories really good! (So good that I’m slowly translating some of them in French so my girlfriend can read them)

I’m sure that many of us here are in fact in the same situation that you are. (Fear of the bad critic.) Look at me, I was writing Fanfics here on Peel in another language. You can’t be more frightened that I was when I started to post them here. Like Layla, Venus, JBerges, Gorky… you have your own writing style and some peoples might not like it. Don’t worry about them. What really matter is what YOU like to write! If the reader doesn’t like it, he’ll go elsewhere but if he likes it, he’ll stay with you and respect your vision of the subject. (In this case: Futurama)

I have to go now!

I hope that what I tried to tell you was understandable. (Wrote it fast)

Bye for now.    :)   

« Reply #96 on: 08-10-2005 21:11 »

First off, I apologize for not coming back sooner.  My computer situation is odd; right now I only have the use of it a few evenings a week (and usually not the WHOLE evening), and sometimes a few hours on Saturday.  That, and the fact that it took me two days to write this post, will tell you a bit more about why I fall silent for days at a time.   :rolleyes:

So: Huge, immense “THANKS!” to everyone who was so supportive during my bout of late-night pathos.  You all totally rule. And also, thank you to everyone who’s commented so far on the new story.  It’s kind of a departure for me, and I appreciate the feedback for sure.

Dr. Thunder and Phillip J. Fry : I’m glad you liked the hint thing; thank you!  One great thing about Futurama is one doesn’t have to restrain one’s wackier impulses.  ;)

Ralph : thanks for reading, and taking the time to encourage me.  I’m working on the next parts; hope they’re worth the wait.

NIC2001 , I’m glad I scared you (not that I want to be the fanfic Stephen King or anything, but it was supposed to be creepy).  I can’t imagine trying to write fanfic in another language, but I can imagine trying to translate it...I recall pestering a classmate in high school who’d taken a year of French to sit beside me and translate some Tintin and Asterix comics that I’d checked out (because the French versions were the only ones my library had in some cases).  Thank you for the reply, and the support!

Cap’n Skusting - I have long admired your art thread - yes, you’re one of the people I feel guilty for not commenting to. I’m going to try to rectify that soon, I hope.  Also, I would dearly love to show you my art; alas, my computer situation is, as I said, somewhat odd at the moment, so it may take me some time; but I’m working on it.   I am slightly scanner-challenged - I actually have one in the house, but it’s not hooked up yet, and I’ve also never used one before...(if you get the feeling I’m slow to try new things, you’re not far off course)...but once I get those things ironed out, I will post for sure.  Most of my work is pencil sketches - I’ve never been great at inking or color, and am also a complete neo at computer art, which is why I admire your stuff so much.

Venus , that applies to your artwork as well.  I’ve tried to do computer art and discovered that it’s not “easy” at all - it requires just as much skill as any other kind of art, though the skills are somewhat different than the ones the older mediums require. And talent is talent no matter how it is expressed.  As for my story...I’m sorry I hit you when your cats were asleep.  If it happens again, you could always wake them up (open the refrigerator, that always works around here.  Heh. ).  Thank you so much for being here, your talent and your enthusiasm are a constant flame of inspiration. I’m sorry I said you apologize with every post; you don’t, of course, but it’s just that even once seems like too much. The only reason you need ever apologize is when you don’t post, and thus deprive us of your shippy, wonderful work.

JBerges , you are a brick (I mean that in the complementary British sense).  Your wise and kind response snapped me out of the funk I was in and put me back in my more usual Bender-level of self-confidence.  Your fic is a constant beacon of quality; I feel I could never write anything as breath-stoppingly funny, or as quintessentially Futurama, as your stuff.  Sober or not, you pack a lot of free-range truth when you speak.  Thank you.

Layla , you are sweetness personified. I can’t imagine you being jealous of my stuff, but if it helps, the compliment is returned in full measure.  You showed me that good Futurama drama could be done, and your insights into the characters constantly amaze me.  Thanks for commenting on the old stories - it’s like finding a five-dollar bill in the pocket of your winter coat in storage.  And thank you for the long, detailed comments on my new story.  They’re the comment posts that I seldom seem to find time for, but I really I wish I could make to everyone’s stories, because I know how much they make my day.

Gorky , the same goes for you - thank you indeed for taking the time to make such a long response.  And you have no reason to explain why you haven’t commented on my story - I have neglected you far too long. I shall work on fixing it in the next few days.  I’ll have you know your incoherent sentences have more content and style than many peoples’s measured, grammatical ones, and I’ll always be thrilled to be on the receiving end of them.

Again - I want to thank from the bottom of my heart all you guys who reassured me when I was down.  It’s totally true, and I should have remembered, that the opinion of a handful of really good writers means much, much more than how much green is in my bars. I honestly didn’t mean to go all wussy about the rankings, it just kinda caught me off guard, and I really appreciate you taking the time to buck up my flagging ego.  It feels a lot better, and so do I. 

So much better that I’m nearly done with the next story part.  Hope to be posting it soon.

Love and luck,

« Reply #97 on: 08-11-2005 22:08 »
« Last Edit on: 08-11-2005 22:08 »

Here's hoping the no-double-post rule is relaxed for story segments....


Chapter 2, Part 1

“I’m afraid she’s dead,” said a voice beyond the darkness.

“But she’s breathing!”

“Only a reflex, I assure you. Just look how soft the carapace has become.”

Something poked her in the stomach.

“Get outta the way, ya useless waterbug!  Amy, use your cell phone to call a real doctor.”

“Wait!  She’s waking up!”

Leela opened her eye.  Zoidberg, Amy, and Hermes stared down at her.

Zoidberg cocked a skeptical eye at the others.  “Also a reflex. She’s dead, I say.  Watch as I demonstrate the lack of gill response.”  His claw hovered over her neck.

“You do and you die,” Leela growled.  Zoidberg made a dismayed sound and hung his head.

“Leela, are you all right?”  Amy reached down to help her up.

Leela grabbed Amy’s hand and used it to lever herself to her knees.  She paused there, her legs shaking, wishing the floor wouldn’t tilt so much.  She struggled to form a sentence.  “Where...how...”

“The autopilot landed you, mon,” Hermes said, then shook his head.  “What in Jah’s name happened?  This place looks like my grandma’s tarpaper shack after hurricane Elvis got done with it.”.

“We couldn’t find anyone else aboard,” Amy said, patting her shoulder awkwardly.  “We found you in here, with....well...”

Leela looked where she pointed.  The torn remnants of a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a red jacket lay in pieces on the carpet. 

Leela reached out and picked up a shred of red sleeve.  It wasn’t even Fry’s real jacket, she realized.  Just a cheap imitation.

“What happened. Leela?” Amy asked, clearly worried.  “Where’s Fry?”

Leela dropped the cloth and pushed herself to her feet.  “Paying for my mistakes,” she said, and headed for the bridge.


On the way, she gave them the condensed version: Alkazar, vengeance, Fry, slavers.  Leela intended to take off immediately, return to the planet they’d just left, and search for Fry’s trail at the start.  But Alkazar had left one more resistor in her path.

Leela started the pre-flight, then stopped.  “Hey...why aren’t the systems responding?”

>>Flight systems are non-operational, Captain,<< the autopilot responded on its text screen.  They had switched back from the more advanced ship’s A.I. to the simpler autopilot program after the near-disaster with the quasar.  Leela found an occasional drinking binge far easier to deal with than, say, a full-blown psychotic break.

Not that the autopilot was a joy to deal with.  “Why are they not operational?” Leela asked it dangerously.

“Leela,” Hermes said, “let’s talk about dis for a - “

Leela waved him silent, reading. 

>>Upon successful docking in the hangar, I sent a 5th magnitude energy surge through all drive-control systems.<<

“You WHAT? Why?!”

>>You instructed me to do so yourself when we launched, Captain,<< the autopilot said.  Leela could hear its innocent confusion through the text.

Leela double-checked the autopilot’s readings - yes, it was sober. 

Leela clenched her fists, trembling.  Then she jumped to her feet.  “HEEYAAA!” she cried, driving her fist through the text screen. It crunched satisfyingly beneath her hand, emitting sparks and wisps of smoke.

The others gasped.

“Oh, the humanity,” moaned Zoidberg.

“Jah’s dreads on fire, woman, calm down!” Hermes cried. 

Leela pounded it a couple more times for good measure.  It was only the screen, after all; the computer itself was distributed around the ship.  But her anger needed a target.

Amy came forward, greatly daring, and took Leela’s fist in her hands.  “It’ll be all right, Leela.  You can’t fly out now anyway, you look as white as an organic fiber cotton sheet.  Come down off the ship, and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Amy gave her a soft, concerned smile.  Leela wanted to hit her - to jerk her fist back and smash Amy’s sympathetic face to pulp - then use Zoidberg as a club to beat Hermes to death, and smash the rest of the Planet Express ship to scrap metal from the inside out.

But none of that would help Fry, or absolve her of what had happened.  It wouldn’t fill the place inside her that was hollow and dark, or still the shrieking voice of anguish in her mind.

“You’re right,” Leela said, and surrendered to Amy’s gentle hands.

Amy tugged and Leela meekly followed.  But her rage had given her strength; without it, she felt cold and weak.  It wasn’t until they stepped out of the ship that she realized that she’d been drugged twice in ten hours, had no food or water, and had nothing but coffee for breakfast before that.  Her body was running on reserves that were all but gone.

To collapse now would be the final indignity.  Leela judged that she could make it to the kitchen; though the Planet Express hangar had never seemed so very...vast before.

Then, something burst in from the street like a whirlwind.  Bender looked around wildly.  “Where is he?!  Where’s Fry?!”

Leela stared in dismay - how could he have found out so quickly?

 “Where is he?” Bender demanded again. “I’m gonna kill him!” He pounded toward the ship, his silver legs working like pistons.

“Easy, mon, he isn’t in there,” Hermes said, stepping into his way. “And where have you been, anyway?”

“I’ll tell you where I’ve been,” Bender, his eyes narrowing.  “I was in the spaceport at the Xanadu Pleasure Dome, tryin’ to get in free with a couple of phony passes Fry sent me!  I had already given my serial number to three fembots on the shuttle flight over, too.  Everyone thought I was some kind of...crasher!  I was so embarrassed!  I’ll never be able to show my face in polite robot society again!”

“You don’t now,” Amy pointed out helpfully.

“That’s not the issue at hand!” Bender turned his ire in her direction.  “The point is, it’s Fry’s fault!  He musta found out those ballet tickets I sold him came free in the mail addressed to him.  He somehow set me up with phony Xanadu passes, so now I’m gonna turn him into a real sausage link.  Where is he, Leela?!”  He grabbed her by the arms and shook her, ignoring the others’ gasps of alarm.  “Are you hiding him?  You are, aren’t you?  Where is he?!”

The others were trying to pry Bender’s hands from her, with no effect.  Leela fought the vertigo and tried to keep her legs under her.

“I lost him,” she finally said.  Oh, God, if only she could sit down.

“You WHAT?”  Bender let her go, rearing back.  “Ah, crap, Leela, I told you he wasn’t safe off the leash yet!  Did you check the cargo bay?  Sometimes he likes to curl up in the packing peanuts to take a nap.  It’s soooo cute, I wish I had a picture,” he finished, hands clasped at his cheek.

“I lost him,” Leela repeated faintly, her ears filled with a deafening roar. The weakness finally crashed down on her, burying the world in an avalanch of darkness.  She saw Bender’s eyes pop out of his visor as she crumpled into his cold metal arms.

Nasty Pasty

DOOP Secretary
« Reply #98 on: 08-12-2005 00:16 »

Very enjoyable.

Keep the updates coming!  :)

Urban Legend
« Reply #99 on: 08-12-2005 01:13 »
« Last Edit on: 08-12-2005 01:13 »

awesome. This is def gonna be one of my top favorites when it's done.

The packing peanuts bit was sooo adorable and so sounds like something Fry would do.

Space Pope
« Reply #100 on: 08-12-2005 02:20 »

Ok Shiny, I have read everything you've gotten so far. It's all great. I was totally fooled when I read Leela trashing Fry, I thought you'd flown to coop. But then I saw the truth and felt stupid. But I felt good cause I liked what I had read. It's good. I like it. You, Layla, and Venus have been my readings for the past couple months. I love it.

Space Pope
« Reply #101 on: 08-12-2005 08:41 »
« Last Edit on: 08-12-2005 08:41 »

Great update. Comedy and angst rolled up into one neat package of...angsty comedy. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Anyway, you kept the story interesting, and everyone was in character. I mean, sure, Amy is always more sympathetic towards others in the fic world, but she was still...I dunno...very Amy-like. Which is always a good thing.

I can't wait to see what's to come. Keep up the great work.

Oh yeah, and, don't feel the need to review (or even read, for that matter) my stories. I mean, like you said, there are so many other writers on these boards, and you wouldn't want to neglect them in favor of something that will have you falling asleep by the second paragraph. Sure, it would be nice to hear what you have to say, but please don't feel the need to break your back or anything, just to read my ramblings.
Ralph Snart

Agent Provocateur
Near Death Star Inhabitant
DOOP Secretary
« Reply #102 on: 08-12-2005 10:14 »

Great job!  You caught the essence of Bender perfectly - angry one moment, almost-caring the next.  Also, you got Leela pegged perfectly - her violent rampage against the ship's autopilot;  trying her best to be Superwomen, yet her human weaknesses catch her by surprise (when she finally passes out in Bender's arms).

Fantastic work!

I appreciate the effort that you put into this story; especailly after you told us how difficult it is to get computer time.

Starship Captain
« Reply #103 on: 08-12-2005 12:54 »

That was great Shiny! I always love to see Leela's emotions and weakness.

Keep up the good work girl!

Bye for now.

Bending Unit
« Reply #104 on: 08-12-2005 13:34 »

Wonderful Shiny! Like everybody has said you are spot on with your characterizations. I especially like how Leela wanted to go postal - it's soo Leela!
Ralph Snart

Agent Provocateur
Near Death Star Inhabitant
DOOP Secretary
« Reply #105 on: 08-13-2005 10:01 »

Amy gave her a soft, concerned smile. Leela wanted to hit her - to jerk her fist back and smash Amy’s sympathetic face to pulp - then use Zoidberg as a club to beat Hermes to death, and smash the rest of the Planet Express ship to scrap metal from the inside out.

That's our Leela - taking things to the extreme.  Even though she may be the poster child for Prozac, we can't get enough of her high-strung antics.

Alkazar has a universe of hurt coming his way...

« Reply #106 on: 08-13-2005 18:33 »

Thanks, guys!  Though the next portion may take a while...some plot thingies to iron out...but I did want to bring Leela home and get Bender back 'n' everything.

Originally posted by Gorky:
Oh yeah, and, don't feel the need to review (or even read, for that matter) my stories. I mean, like you said, there are so many other writers on these boards, and you wouldn't want to neglect them in favor of something that will have you falling asleep by the second paragraph. Sure, it would be nice to hear what you have to say, but please don't feel the need to break your back or anything, just to read my ramblings.

Gorky...don't make me go upside your head! Just 'cause I'm over my bout of insecurity doesn't mean you have to take over where I left off.  :p

Delivery Boy
« Reply #107 on: 08-13-2005 19:33 »

Greattings Shiny my fellow spaceminer that was very interesting indeed can't wait for the next part of your story.Also I have been wrighting some more on the first chapter of the chronicles of the quiet one also if you have any ideas for like chapters 8-20 of fry's destiny and for chapters 2-30 of the chronicles of the quiet one let me know really soon ether by posting in my thread or by e-mail which is located in my profile until next time.Later day's

Starship Captain
« Reply #108 on: 08-14-2005 06:12 »

Did I mention you are my favourite fic writer?

For some critique, then:
... I don´t have anything to complain about, so... [Insert Tons Of Praise Here].

Space Pope
« Reply #109 on: 08-14-2005 16:49 »
« Last Edit on: 08-14-2005 16:49 »

Originally posted by Shiny:
Gorky...don't make me go upside your head! Just 'cause I'm over my bout of insecurity doesn't mean you have to take over where I left off.    :p

Hey, I'm always like that! In fact, you were the one stealing my thunder when you were upset about the TLZ rankings! Brilliant writers like you have no reason to be insecure. That's why it's my job!   :p

Now, about what you were saying about the whole goin' upside my head thing...

Urban Legend
« Reply #110 on: 08-19-2005 19:24 »
« Last Edit on: 08-19-2005 19:24 »

A short sample, Shiny, but a suitable set-up for subsequent sizable segments.  The section was scripted superbly, subtle shenanigans segueing somber sentiments. The scenario’s significance sells the story sublimely, spawning significant sympathy and, simultaneously, successfully snaring some substantive sycophancy.

Cheers Shiny, and keep it up!  Ignore my random weirdness.

Starship Captain
« Reply #111 on: 08-20-2005 00:37 »

Why always with the alliteration? 

Anyway, onto my own damned opinion; I haven't disliked a thing you've written so far.  Almost makes me want to work on one of my many unfinished works.

« Reply #112 on: 09-11-2005 14:35 »
« Last Edit on: 09-11-2005 14:35 »

Without further adieu, Chapter 2 part 2....


Three surreal awakenings in one day was too much for Leela.  When she opened her eye to see Adlai Atkins’ face, she gave up trying to make sense of the situation.  Maybe she was dreaming.  Maybe she was in another coma.  Maybe she was dead - and Hell was full of ex-boyfriends. 

She lay there and waited to see if Adlai would suddenly turn into Alkazar - or perhaps start to sing and then explode.

He was speaking to someone.  “...should come around any ti - ah, there she is.  Hello, Leela.  How do you feel?”  His voice was blandly pleasant - as always - and his smile was pleasantly bland. “How many  fingers am I holding up?”

“Adlai,” she said.

“Wrong!” Bender crowed.   “It’s three!  Puny human calculations.  The superior robot mind wins another round!”  He got up and started to dance in place.

Leela glanced around the room.  She was lying on the sofa in the Planet Express lounge with a blanket draped over her legs; Adlai knelt beside her, in khaki pants and a sweater the color of oatmeal.

He nodded absently at the dancing robot.  “Good, Bender, but I was testing her vision, not her math skills.  Let’s try again.” Adlai shifted his hand position.  “How many f -“

“Four,” Leela said quickly.  “How did you get here?”

“I called him,” Bender said, sitting back down in a kitchen chair and folding his arms smugly.  “I wasn’t about to let Crabby loose on you, and this guy was the only real doctor on the company speed dial.  Plus, I figured he’d make a house call if I told him your eye suddenly fell out and you were gonna sue him for malpractice.”

“An entirely unnecessary embelishment,” Adlai said, shining a light in said eye.  “I’m always glad to help out a friend.  And remaining friends with one’s former significant others is the commonly accepted thing to do.”    The smile he gave her was a little warmer than the last one.

Leela, however, had no time for his smile.  She looked to Bender for help.

Bender was unaware of her, as usual, but he nevertheless asked what she needed to know.  “So how is she, doc?”

“Fine, just fine,” Adlai said, speaking more to her than to Bender.

“Am I?” Leela asked him.  She didn’t feel fine.  She felt out of place, broken off from the world.

“You will be quite soon,” Adlai assured her.  “Your Professor let me use some of his equipment to analyze a blood sample.” He picked up a printout from beside him.  “You were drugged with a fairly strong nerve toxin, but it seems to be clearing from your system adequately and should have no permanent ill-effects.  Also,” he added, glancing closer at the paper, “you apparently don’t qualify for more than lackey status in the World Domination Plan.”  He shook his head in mild bemusement.  “At any rate, you’ll be back to standard health in no time at all.”

“Hah!” said Zoidberg, emerging from the kitchen area.  “So you say.  You didn’t even listen to her pyloric caeca, I was watching!”

“Shut up, Crabcake!” Bender yelled.  “You aren’t qualified to treat a dead hamster! Get lost before your big fat crab ass ends up as Elzar’s Hawaiian Calamari!”

Zoidberg hissed like a cat and snapped his claws in Bender’s general direction.  Then, as Bender stood and made a lunge toward him, he screamed and ran for the hangar.  “Help!  Mad robut!  And he’s hungry for my butt, he is! Woo woo woo woo woo.....

Bender didn’t pursue, apparently happy with having driven Zoidberg off.  “Stupid jerk.  And speaking of stupid jerks, thanks for coming, doc.  I’d pay you, but I’m constitutionally unable to not take advantage of a sucker.”

“That’s quite all right,” Adlai said, again looking at Leela. “Anytime.”  He stuffed a couple of instruments back in his bag and stood up.  “I’ll drop in tomorrow evening and make sure you’re recovering adequately.  See you then.”

When he was gone, Leela sighed in relief.  “Good,” she said.  “Now to find Fry.”  She threw the blanket off her legs and sat up.

Or rather, she tried to.  When she reached vertical, the Planet Express building suddenly seemed to be doing some incredible zero-gee maneuvers.  She started to topple off sideways.

“Whoa,” Bender said, catching her with one hand and shoving her back on the sofa.  “Sorry, sausage patty, but you’re confined to the sofa for a while.”

“You don’t understand,” Leela said, but found to her consternation that she didn’t have the strength to push past him.

“No, you don’t understand. The ship’s not going anywhere for a couple days, so you might as well rest like the boring guy said.”

“Then I need to get started fixing the ship,” Leela said, trying once more to get up from the sofa.  Infuriatingly, Bender held her there with one metal finger on her shoulder.

“Amy and the Professor are doing that,” Bender said firmly, sitting down again.  “And Hermes is filling out forms to file with the police and the DOOP, so there’s nothing you can do, anyway.”

“And what are you doing?” Leela asked through gritted teeth.

Bender got in her face, his eyes angry.  “I’m making sure Zoidberg doesn’t kill you, and you don’t kill yourself by ignoring the many limitations of your puny biological body - since you apparently sadly overestimate the stupid thing!  I’m not gonna lose two best friends in one day, so continue to plant your squishy pink ass, lady, or bite my shiny metal one!”

Leela was shocked enough to stop arguing - had the world’s most self-involved robot had actually admitted caring about her?  Had having her pass out in his arms gotten through his serene narcissism a little?

Apparently so.

Leela very nearly burst into tears. Shocked at her own volatility, she fought it.  It was surprisingly hard.  What Alkazar had said and done had woken something in her like a dormant volcano, a seething mixture of emotions she didn’t want to examine too closely.  Her rage before had been a protective crust over it, but Amy’s sympathy had worn that away.  Now Bender’s rough concern almost caused it to erupt like Vesuvius.

Leela closed her eye, fighting it - she could not, COULD NOT become a weepy basket case now. It would wreck her, it would make her useless to Fry.  It was exactly what Alkazar wanted - for his petty gloating to make her helpless.  Finding Fry and rescuing him was all that mattered, and to do that she had to be Tough Leela - calm, cool, and competent.  She had to be strong on the surface, no matter what went on beneath it.

Leela took slow breaths, as Master Fnog had instructed - the Breath of the Thoughtful Male, he had called it. To banish girly emotion and retain manly control is the way of Arcturan Kung Fu, he had said over and over. Some will master it - some will not. And he always glanced Leela’s way as he said that.  Leela, who found that anger cleared her head instead of clouding it, had ignored him.  But now she was glad she remembered the breathing method.  She could feel the knot of unsettling emotions sinking deeper, receding out of sight, with every breath.  Fnog was right - it helped you stay in control of yourself.  When Leela opened her eye, it was free of tears.

Bender, noticing none of her inner struggle, leaned back in his chair.  “So anyway I called your parents.  They’ll be here any second.”

“You what? Oh, Bender, no!” The thought of seeing her parents filled her with naked terror.  She could never maintain control in front of them.  “Quick, call them back!  Tell them I’m fine!  Tell them I’ll see them tomorrow.  Or maybe Tuesday. Just - ”

“Too late,” Bender said.

Her parents suddenly emerged - not from the door that led to the hangar, but from the inner regions of the Planet Express building. 

Leela froze, trapped.

Her mother and father paused as well, seeking her out.  When they saw her lying on the sofa, Munda’s tentacles flew to her mouth and her eye got wide and lost.  Morris’s face didn’t change much, but Leela was suddenly reminded of people hit by clubs.

Then their stricken looks vanished and they hurried toward her.

Leela had only a split second to swallow her panic, but she did it.  The sight of their fear for her gave her the incentive. They had enough to deal with, she didn’t need to burden them further.  Her own emotions were hers to bear.

Her mother’s tentacles wrapped around her.  “Leela, sweetie,” Munda said.  “Oh, my poor baby.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Leela said.  It was, for the moment, true.

“Are you all right, honey?” Morris asked at the same moment.

“I’m fine, really.  The doctor just said so.”

“Wrong again, fleshpile,” Bender said.  “He said you’ll be fine after you rest for a couple days. I figured you could stay with your parents till then.”

“Of course she can,” Munda finished, pulling back and stroking Leela’s hair.  “Oh, Leela, I’m so sorry.  You must be so worried about your frie -”

“Go down to the sewers? Now?” Leela turned to Bender, highly annoyed.  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but climbing down one of those ladders is the last thing I should do if I’m supposed to rest.  And how could you ask my parents to come all the way up here in the dead of the night, anyway?  If they got caught leaving the manhole, they could’ve been arrested!   Or soaked - the street-sweeper bot is due any time!”

“Cool your ponytail, bright eye, it’s all taken care of - thanks in no little part to the one and only amazing Bender.” He stood waved for her to follow.  “Come along and be awed.”

Leela got up, a little shaky but not nearly so dizzy as a few minutes ago; her mother and father took her arms, and she was gladder for their support than she wanted to admit. Between them, she followed Bender down to the Planet Express basement.

There, against the wall opposite the lava pool, was a transparent people tube emerging from the floor, with a entrance hole cut in one side.

“A people tube?”  Leela said.  “Bender, have you been making emergency escape routes again?  You know what that matter transmission unit did to the Professor’s colostomy tank last time!”

“Please,” Bender said, “I only make that kind of mistake once.  No, this was the meatbag’s idea.”

“It leads right to our linen closet,” Morris said. 

“I stacked the towels in the refrigerator,” Munda added.  “But isnt’ it wonderful, Leela?  Now you can visit us, or we can come up to visit you - to this building, anyway - without anyone seeing us or screaming or anything!”

Leela was amazed.  “But how...?”

“I built it,” Bender said proudly.  “Oh, and Fry helped too.  He decided you needed a better way to visit your parents after you almost got decapitated by that clog dancers’ tour bus. So we swiped the tube pieces from Momcorp’s parking garage, and I tapped into the city’s pneumatics.”  He cracked his finger-pivots.  “Just like siphoning dark matter from a hospital ship.  Nothing to it.”

“They’ve been working on it all month,” Morris said.  “I helped a bit too.  Fry’s a nice guy, but he has a weird relationship with hammers.  Heh, heh.”  Then he remembered what was going on and sobered.  “Poor kid.  I know you’ll find him soon, darling.”

It was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her.  It almost made her lose it again.  Leela pushed the tears deeper into the back of her mind, breathing in calm and control, breathing out weepy weakness.  For a moment, she didn’t think she would succeed.

So she took the only out she had.  She stepped into the people tube.

She dropped like a rock - she’d always hated the down-facing entrances.  The pneumatics swept her down to Old New York, and feet-first she slid horizontally for a short distance just beneath the upper city streets before plunging straight down into the sewer level, and near-darkness - the instant’s glance she had told her that the last section of the tube to her parent’s house had been disguised by a length of metal drainage pipe.  She landed on a stack of blankets laid down as padding, and her legs folded under her.  She bumped her head on the tube wall.  “Ow!”

Not exactly her smoothest move, but at least the disorienting trip had distracted her from her emotions.  Quickly, she slid out of the tube, and pushed herself back to her feet. 

Luckily, too.  Her mother appeared a moment later, feet first on the blankets.  “Leela!  Don’t scare me like that!”  Munda hurried out of the tube and ran her tentacles over Leela’s form.  “You just woke up, you should have let your father go first, to catch you!”

“I’m really fine, Mom,” Leela said, a little exasperated.  She wasn’t an invalid, just a little tired.

Morris appeared a second later, and then, just behind him, Bender.  Leela frowned at that.  “Before you ask,” Bender said, “I’m here to make sure you don’t go sneaking out the window or something.  So just get used to it.”

Leela turned away so he wouldn’t see her grimace. 

“Morris,” Munda said, “why don’t you show Mr. Bender your collection of European cigarette butts.  I’ll take Leela upstairs and get her settled.”

Wondering if her mother was arranging her freedom, Leela followed her upstairs.  But Munda soon disillusioned her.  “And don’t think of trying to sneak out on your mother, Leela honey.  Tentacles are a lot stronger than jointed limbs, and I can be just as stubborn as you when I put my mind to it.”

Leela wasn’t quite able to hide her disgruntled look.  She folded her arms.  “You were a lot more lenient when I wanted you to be strict,” she said sullenly, feeling exactly like the teenager she’d temporarily been not so long ago.

“And you were a lot more sensible as an adolescent,” Munda said, patting her head and smiling.  “Don’t worry, honey.  I know you have to go and save your friend.  But you aren’t going to do it while you still look half dead yourself.”

Fresh sheets were on her bed, and the nightgown she left for when she visited was laid out for her.  While Leela undid her ponytail and gave her hair a cursory brushing, her mother asked, “Leela, honey, did anything else happen to you today I should know about?”

Leela blinked, honestly confused.  “What, besides being ambushed, drugged, and having Fry abandoned to slavers?  Wasn’t that enough?”

Munda fixed her with a hard look.  “Leela, you’re too intelligent to play dumb.  You know what I’m asking. Did that horrid man do...anything more to you than you’ve said?”

Leela’s mouth dropped open as she realized what her mother feared.  “Oh, Mom, no!  No, nothing like that!”  She dropped the brush, came over and hugged her mother tight.  “Alkazar is all talk, Mom.  He’s a manipulator, not...nothing like that.”  Still, she had a moment’s flutter in the pit of her stomach as she realized it could have happened.  Alkazar had held her helpless.  If he’d wanted to, he could easily have...well, done whatever he wanted to her.

Firmly, she dismissed the thought.  It was Fry she had to worry about, not herself - particularly not about something that only could have happened.  She had enough to worry about with what did.

“Thank God,” her mother was saying, holding her tight.  Then she drew back and looked into Leela’s face.  “You’ve never mentioned this Alkazar before, but your robot friend said he was an old boyfriend.  Where did you meet him?”

Intensely uncomfortable, Leela disengaged herself.  Automatically she sat down on the bed to unlace her boots, but realized she still wasn’t wearing any.  Her bare feet were dirty from walking around, and she absently brushed the dirt off them with her hand.  “He’s not an old boyfriend, really.  He was just a jerk who pretended to like me.”  She didn’t want to go into how he’d fooled her by pretending to be the only other member of her “alien” species.  She didn’t ever want her parents to know about that.  “Some bad things happened to him after we broke up, and he apparently blames me, and Fry.”

“Then what is it, sweetheart?” her mother said gently

Leela stiffened.  “What is what?”

“What did he say to you?  You’re obviously very upset.  Talk to me, Leela.”

Leela rose and turned away to take off her tank top.  “What does it matter what he said?  It was your standard bad guy gloating.  I swear, they all take the same public speaking course.”

“Then what is it?  I’m your mother, I can - oh my God, Leela!

Leela turned around, now naked save for her underpants.  Her mother was staring at her.  Leela looked down and was surprised herself.  Bruises made purple streaks across her body, spiraling brokenly up from her thighs to her shoulders.

“Oh, that.”  Leela shrugged and pulled the nightgown over her head.  “He turned into a big snake to hold me still while he blathered.  I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, Leela...”  Her mother’s eye filled with tears - then turned angry.  “What was that idiot doctor doing, not taking you to the hospital?!”

“Adlai didn’t undress me,” Leela said, climbing into bed.  “He knew I’d have clobbered him if he tried.  Don’t worry, I recover fast.”

“Leela, you...”  Her mother stared at her, almost pleading with her eye.  “Honey, I’m your mother - you can talk to me.  Please tell me what you’re feeling.”

Leela’s tiredness caught up with her all of a sudden.  “I don’t need to talk, Mom - really.”  She lay down.  “I just need to sleep.”

Munda hesitated for a long moment, then sighed and nodded. “All right.  Good night, Leela, sweetheart.  I love you.”  She kissed her on the forehead.

Leela closed her eye, again suppressing a tear.  “I love you too, Mom.  Good night.”

Her mother gently shut the door and left.

Leela waited until she heard her mother’s footsteps go down the stairs, then slid out of bed.  She pulled open the shutter to scout out her escape - out onto the tree limb and up the nearest manhole ladder.

The tree limb was occupied.  “Lovely night in the sewers, ain’t it?” Bender said, puffing a cigar.  “Yep, this tree sure is comfortable.  Think I’ll just stay here for a while.”

Leela glowered and closed the shutter.  “I liked you better when you were insensitive,” she muttered.

“Wow, a whole new way to annoy people!”  His voice floated in through the slats.  “No one told me that sensitivity was fun!  I could get used to this.”


Well, fine.  She could wait him out.  Leela got back into bed and laid down.  Robots had to go into sleep mode to process the day’s data, same as organic beings.  Bender was hard to wake in the best of times - in ten minutes, Leela could sneak right by him and start her search.

But Leela hadn’t been faking her own exhaustion; long before the ten minutes were over, she was out like a light.


Amy left Planet Express at noon, having worked all night and most of the morning on the ship’s drive control systems.  The damage Alkazar had done was insidious - it required crawling into all manner of tight, inaccessible spaces to replace damaged circuits and manually reset parts not designed to need resetting.  The Professor, of course, couldn’t manage any of it, so Amy became the designated contortionist.  Her old yoga-bo instructor would have been proud of her.

She could have stayed up much longer - she used to routinely when she was still clubbing - but the more tired she got, the clumsier she got.  When it took her three tries to lift her foot over a three-inch baffle, she decided she’d be doing more harm than good if she didn’t go home and get a few hours sleep.

But she had one more thing to do before collapsing.

She had been to Leela’s apartment before. Leela left a spare key at the office for when deliveries ran over schedule and someone had to feed Nibbler;  Amy had often filled this office. 

“Hi, Nib,” she said as she let herself in.  Nibbler chattered around her legs as she walked to the kitchen.  Only three cans of snouts left; she’d have to get some delivered tomorrow.  She opened one and loaded the other two into the dispenser, made sure the timer was set, and scrawled a note to herself on the fridge.

There was a fresh load of dark matter in the box in a corner of the living room floor; Amy grabbed a fuel-transport cylinder from the closet and set it over the black sphere.  Once encased in the gravity-pump equipped device, the dark matter was light enough to handle easily.  Amy set the cylinder beside the door, so that she’d remember to take it in to work tonight after she checked on Nibbler again.  She stifled a yawn, then went to the only chair in the living room and sat down.  Nibbler hopped up in her lap, looking worried and inquisitive.

“Poor little Nibbler,” Amy said, scratching his head.  “You can sense that something’s wrong, can’t you? Don’t worry, Leela will be back tomorrow.”  Nibbler settled down in her lap, curling into a little ball.  Amy wondered if she could just sleep right here, rather than going all the way back to her own apartment.  Would Leela mind much?  Nibbler would have company, at least. And she would have company, too; that seemed comforting at the moment.

Amy was very worried. She liked Fry.  Although there wasn’t any physical attraction anymore (Amy’s tastes had shifted to a body type smaller and greener than Fry’s), she was still fond of him; the idea that he might be gone forever made her feel as though her stomach had been replaced by a large rock.

Her thoughts were interruped by a reminder beep.  Amy dug out her cell phone; it had fallen through the hole in her pocket, down the leg of her sweat pants and into her boot.  Finally, though, she got it free and flipped it open. Kif’s tiny image appeared on the screen.

“Dearest,” the recording said, “I got your message.  I’m off duty now for four hours, call me if you can.”

The recording was made less than an hour ago.  She quickly plugged her cell into Leela’s wall-sized TV/Vidphone and phoned the Nimbus.

Kif was waiting for her, as he’d promised.  “Amy, my beloved, how are you?”

“Spleeking tired.  Oh, Kif, it’s so good just to hear your voice, you can’t imagine.  Can you believe what’s happening?”

“Alas, I can,” Kif said sadly.  “My heart aches with yours.  Have you heard anything yet?” 

“Nothing but the Professor’s faulty digestive system for the last nine hours,” she said, covering her face with her hands.  “And I’m going to have to hear a lot more of it - we’re not even half done fixing the ship.  I don’t think we’ll get her spaceborne for another two days.  Meanwhile the police say it’s out of their jurisdiction, call the DOOP - and the DOOP says it’s a police matter, the schmerks.  Er, no offense, my little tadpole.”

“None taken, my Earth flower,” Kif assured her. He shook his head.  “I was afraid of this.  Don’t worry, Amy, I will do whatever I can from here.  No one is more adept at universal database searches - the experience I gained looking for 1-900 holoshed simulations for Zapp has not been completely without reward.  I will find out whatever I can about this Alkazar fellow, and from that perhaps we can determine who he was working with.”

“Oh, thank you, Kif!  But don’t tell Zapp about it,” Amy said quickly.  “He’d probably want to make sure Fry stayed missing.”

Cherrup?!” Nibbler started in her lap.

Amy absently petted him as Kif answered her.  “I shall not breathe a word of it, my precious dewdrop.  Besides, Zapp’s monthly full-body massage and sensory deprivation tank session is this afternoon - while he sleeps it off, I will have eight to ten hours of uninterrupted search time.”

Amy smiled at him, but suddenly a wave of misery hit her.  “Oh Kif, I’m so worried!  Leela looked horrible, worse than when she was in that coma.  And poor Fry, he doesn’t even like cleanup day on the ship!  I know he did okay on Osirus IV, but there are lots worse places to be sold as a slave to.  How are we going to find him when they couldn’t even find Arnold Schwarzenegger’s head?”

Nibbler suddenly leaped from her lap, so fast his toenails scratched her thighs right through her sweatpants.  Amy gasped.  “Nibbler!  What -?”  He scampered to the front door and jumped at it.  With apparently random luck, he hit the door release button and it slid open wide.

“No!  Nibbler don’t, come back!”  Amy jumped from the chair and ran after him.  She paused at the door.  “He’s gone!  Kif, I have to find him!  I love you sweetie bye bye!”  And she tore off down the stairs.

She thought she saw a glimpse of him outside going left, and she ran that way, but he wasn’t in sight on the street, and the only thing to duck into was a dank alley. Finding no sign of him there, Amy ran back the other way, then circled the block.

But Nibbler was long gone.



Delivery Boy
« Reply #113 on: 09-11-2005 15:29 »

Konnichiwa Shiny my fellow spaceminer that chapter i think is very omoshiori can't wait for chapter 3 and also if you whant to send you a copy of the fixed chapter's of fry's destiny or a copy of what i have written on the first chapter of the chronicles let me know by postin in my thread until then.Soredwa nochi hodo.

Bending Unit
« Reply #114 on: 09-11-2005 15:35 »

Nicely done as always Shiny... You are doing a great job with the pacing all the way through.  I have to say though that your portrayal of Bender struck me as a bit jarring and off - canon. Thinking more on it though I could see him acting like this because Leela is sooo important to Fry    ;)  I also liked your description of Leela smothering her emotions (letting them fester into mental illness as she said   :D ) That's was spot on!
Great stuff! More please  :D   ;)

Minor quibble dept: Twice you mentioned Leela closing her eyes.

« Reply #115 on: 09-11-2005 16:23 »
« Last Edit on: 09-11-2005 16:23 »

Originally posted by Ol'coot:
Minor quibble dept: Twice you mentioned Leela closing her eyes.
#@!$@#! {Expletive Deleted}

Thank you...eventually I'll remember to stop trusting myself and just run a search for "eyes" before every post...   :rolleyes:

P.S. - on Leela's importance to Bender...remember from the Honking, Leela is almost as important to Bender as Fry is...   ;)

Bending Unit
« Reply #116 on: 09-11-2005 18:36 »

P.S. - on Leela's importance to Bender...remember from the Honking, Leela is almost as important to Bender as Fry is...    ;)

I haven't seen that ep in a long time, I will have to watch it again!


Urban Legend
« Reply #117 on: 09-12-2005 00:06 »

*Does the happy joy dance of fuzzy kittens* You even included the bruising on Leela's body. I was wondering a few days ago whether or not you would overlook that detail. The fact that you didn't rocks. Loved the Munda/Leela interaction, as well as Leela's fighting for emotional control. This story is sooo gonna kick ass.

Urban Legend
« Reply #118 on: 09-12-2005 00:39 »
« Last Edit on: 09-12-2005 00:39 »

Shiny, when you write, I see the same flashes of skill and flair that Layla, Venus, and occasionally I manage to get into our work...  yet you seem to cover all of our bases at once*.  Your range and adaptiveness as a writer are truly phenomenal. Who else could seamlessly move from a dramatic interrogation about rape to Bender sarcastically narrating from a tree in under a page?!  Keep up the fantastic work.

EDIT:  Dare I say "all our base are belong to you?" *is killed*

« Reply #119 on: 09-12-2005 01:53 »

Wow...you guys...you're making me blush! 

(where's a "blush" emoticon when you need one?)

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