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Author Topic: Hooray! Not-so-newbie fanfic!  (Read 19930 times)
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NIC2001

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #200 on: 07-29-2005 12:15 »
« Last Edit on: 07-30-2005 00:00 »

Hi Layla!   :)

It’s been a wile since I posted here. I was sick for the last 2 weeks so I could not get to a computer. (Nothing serious, it was just a small liver and spleen infection.   :hmpf: )

Sorry about your computer. Those damn Viruses are one of the things that made me stop using my pc at home. (And that was 7+ years ago.)

I’ll be sending you an Email soon. (Maybe today or tomorrow or later but soon)

Can’t wait for the LAST part of your fic!

Your little teaser was great. But I’m really awaiting the other one you plan to write, (Leela’s prom) that one will be great I’m sure of it!    ;)

Don’t change the title of your fic. It’s perfect the way it is. It fit the story well.

I must go now. Bye for now!
Layla50

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #201 on: 07-30-2005 23:16 »

Hi everybody! Hi Dr. Layla! Er... right then. (That Gorky's contagious, I'll have you know!)

I'll have an update for the Zapp story tommorow. Despite my mightiest efforts it's taken a slight, very slight, turn for the more serious. Actually not so much serious as having deeper characters. It's all got to do with me deciding on the structure of the story at long last, thus breaking down writers block. Hey, that's a good thing, right? It'll be a little longer too, but not very long, and not really serious. I'm saving that for my Leela story which is probably going to have a more complicated plot than Fry's Choice, with even more angst. )Well, honestly, if I can give stupid, cheerful Fry a traumatic story, can you imagine what I'm going to do to Leela?

Enough teasing. I'm just getting excited about the possibilities is all. Oh, and I've written significant portions of the very last scene in Fry's Choice, so I'm getting somewhere with that too.

(Indian accent)Life is good.

Venus: Yay! I made you laugh at the sleaze. My life is complete.  :) You know, everytime I see the Venus razor commercial I think of you. I'm seeking help, don't worry. ;)

DrThunder: But... would anyone really want to look at vaginas? Boobies I can kinda understand. Besides, wouldn't that require a flashlight of some kind?

As another valiant effort to win the coveted: Most Incredibly Gullible Canadian Award you had me going for a bit. Hey, if you can't be pretentious on the internet, where can you be (besides the classy soirees at Windsor Castle)? I'm gonna take the opprtunity to be uppity and point out you spelled pretentious wrong. Whee! It's fun.
Have you figured it all out yet?

Becky: Yay! The artist is back! Yippee! Happy joy fun bliss giggles. You're a fan of war, eh?  ;) Glad I can entertain you with the tragic, if fictional, misery of mutant suffering. My computer came back Tuesday, and is being moodier than it was before. Personally I think it misses the virus.

Boltzmann_Fan: "Masterfully addictive?" You flatter me kind madame. I'll try not to keep you waiting too long. It's just so fun for me to read all these positive, interesting responses. It really makes it all worthwhile. Thanks so much.

NIC: Je suis heureuse à te voir encore. Tu me manquais! Je suis tellement désolée à entendre que tu étais malade. Sois-tu mieux, ami! The Leela fic is definately more in my personal style I think, but it's always good to stretch yourself. That's how we learn, eh? Je ne t'avais pas oublier, ni ton couriel.

À demain, ami(e)s! See you tommorow, friends!

Oh, and just for fun, a not so great picture of my new hair cut.

Shippy Mandy

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #202 on: 07-30-2005 23:21 »

Nice haircut, Layla!

Ooh, MORE angst? I'm SO looking forward to that! Angst makes me happy. ^_^
Venus

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #203 on: 07-30-2005 23:41 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by Layla50:
everytime I see the Venus razor commercial I think of you

everytime i see that commercial i think of me too. Also that's the razor i use. Cause it was evidently made for me.
DrThunder88

DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #204 on: 07-31-2005 04:05 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by Layla50
I'm gonna take the opprtunity to be uppity and point out you spelled pretentious wrong. Whee! It's fun.

You win this round...

 
Quote
Have you figured it all out yet?

Not really.  The people I ask keep saying that the meaning of existence is to love and be loved.  But what is love beyond a compulsive need to be needed that...oh wait, you're talking about your fic, aren't you?  Yeah, yeah.  I think I'm all caught up.
NIC2001

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #205 on: 07-31-2005 08:46 »

  :eek: Wow look at those nice flowers... And this green grass... Ooooh those trees are so cool... Eh? OH right, nice hair cut Layla.  :p 

Yep I'm fine now! (But still have a few blood tests to take in the following month  :hmpf: )

Can’t wait for the last part of Fry’s Choice! (Again, don’t change the title. It fit the story well)

I’ll try to send you a small Email today.

Must go back to work!  :( 

Bye for now.
Layla50

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #206 on: 07-31-2005 21:41 »

Short little Zapp update as promised and probably another one coming tommorow. I think I need to put a warning on this for vivid description of nauseating things. Enjoy!
Oh, and I'll just post the beginning again with it because it makes more sense structurally that way.

“It was an auspicious day, Kif, one that shook the very foundation of the universe.”

In turns revered and reviled, depending on how well you knew him, Captain Zapp Brannigan slouched in his chair on the bridge of the Nimbus, basking in one of his moods. Miserable, yet faithful, Lieutenant Kif Kroker dutifully typed to the incessant droning of the captain’s words.

“On a thousand worlds, primitive shammies lifted their eyes to the stars and announced the beginning of a great and glorious era.”

Wordlessly, Kif corrected ‘shammies’ to shamen. A chance encounter with the Planet Express ship earlier in the day had led, as it always did, to a rough exchange of propositions and insults between Zapp and Captain Turanga Leela, a purpled haired cyclops, and friend to the lovely Amy Wong. Not that such conflicts were unusual on the Nimbus. Brannigan had an uncanny knack for bringing the worst out in anyone who was not in a position to advance his career.

“She was beautiful of course, graceful, seductive like cheap wine, and with boobies that said ‘ohhhhh.’”

Kif shivered nearly imperceptibly at the obscene groan. His treasured Amy had once asked about Zapp’s amazing success, made all the more astonishing for his gross incompetence. Some great mysteries could never be solved, Kif had answered her, but in Zapp’s case, he suspected phenomenal luck.

“My mother was hopelessly poor, but very noble, and Pappy could see beyond her simple clothes to the foxy woman under them.”

Zapp turned and frowned at him. “Are you getting this?” Kif nodded quickly, “Oh yes, sir. Every word.” The Captain nodded sharply, “Good.”

Luck was the most comforting and plausible explanation Kif could come up with for Brannigan’s continued surviving at all, let alone his popularity among the upper echelons of the DOOP fleet. More than a dozen times, Zapp had come out of dire situations unscathed when by rights he should have been crushed, shredded, or made into a delicious bouillon.

“Yes, it was true love, a passion that other, lesser beings,” Kif did not miss the mocking glance in his direction, “could only fantasize about, alone in their fantastically upholstered velour bed chambers, weeping and desperate, wondering why no woman would ever-”

Uh oh. With all the expertise of someone malicious enough to derail trains repeatedly, Kif derailed Zapp’s self-pitying train of thought. “Oh, it sounds very romantic, sir.” Startled, Zapp very nearly sat up straight. “Quiet Kif, I’m recounting the tale of a love that produced the greatest war hero in the history of the DOOP.” Unwilling to respond verbally, Kif idly typed a few extra letters then deleted them, prompting Zapp to continue the story.

“Ah, yes, they both knew right away the destiny was in the making. Still, mother knew how critical the thrill of the chase was to men like me and my pappy, so she played ‘hard to bed’ for more than a year.”

After a second’s consideration, Kif left the verbal typo as it was, suspecting there was a certain Freudian honesty to it.
---------------------------------------   
 “No.”

“But-" 

“No! Not in this lifetime.”

“But you’re such a fox!” Naughty Nicki scowled at him and spun smoothly in her gold spangled stilettos. Silently cursing his complete inability to talk to women, exotic dancers or no, Frank helplessly waved a handful of scraggly dandelions at her erotically retreating backside.

“Please, just one date! I’ll make it worth your while!” he cringed at the bad choice of words when obnoxious guffaws erupted around him. She didn’t turn around, but he saw her shake her head in utter disdain. Down, but not out, Frank shrugged off the giggled invitation for a lap dance, dropped the wildflowers and then strode out of the Tit-illating Night Entertainment Shack with all the dignity he could muster. Tomorrow would be another day.
_____________________________ __

   “For a lady as classy as my mother, only the grandest empty gesture would do.”

‘I see only the keys, only the letters on the keys,’ Kif chanted to himself as the watery sounds coming from the Jacuzzium Mach 3 went from bubbling to splashing to silence. Relative silence.

   “Kif! Knock off that incessant whining and come towel me off!” Kif reluctantly stood after briefly considering the comforting embrace of the vacuum of space. He approached his commanding officer’s bulgy, dripping form, shaking like a bowl full of jelly in the way Robot Santa did not. Zapp eyed him impatiently, completely nude and not the least bit self-conscious about it.

Kif swiftly fetched the velour towel and held it in front of him like an Übergüd defense shield. There was no denying that velour was an excellent fabric, very texturally pleasant, but it wasn’t really the best drying cloth. With an efficient haste, he managed to dry Brannigan’s body despite the velour, simultaneously avoiding turning yellow, his body’s sure precursor to fainting and throwing up.

Vomiting was a particularly unpleasant experience for Kif’s people because, like certain species of sharks on earth, it involved the partial expulsion and complete inversion of the stomach, as well as severe vertigo. Needless to say, his first year on the Nimbus had literally turned him inside out and upside down.

   Zapp dressed, languorously reveling in the sensory experience of his uniform with so much enthusiam that Kif nearly lost his green. It was with no small amount of relief that Kif was at last able to return to typing Zapp’s memoirs.

“Where was I?”

“Well, you were just telling me about-”

“Shut up, Kif! Oh, yes, the night of the sweeping-off of my mother’s feet. One day, Dad strode into the hall where mom was sextatically modeling eveningwear. Their eyes met across the room and the sparks just flew in a dizzying orgy of … sparks.”

In Kif’s limited experience with Earthican models, they well paid once they reached a certain level. Zapp had described his mother as poor. With a hard blink and a shake of his head, Kif decided he was putting way too much thought into this and not nearly enough thought in dearest Amy. Unaware of the change in Kif’s line of thinking, Zapp continued blathering.

   “Perhaps it was the energy in his stride, or the burning passion in his eyes, but either way he was as cool as a July afternoon and mother was attracted to him like a moth to a black kettle filled with angry butterflies.”

Tired out from his complex wordplay, Zapp decided to get a cup of coffee. Taking advantage of the pause, Kif decided to panic. He stared at the typed words in dismay. How was he supposed to translate that garbled phrase into something even slightly less garbled? Giving up a little of the pride he had recovered in his relationship with the stylish intern, he snapped on Megasoft Antibabble. It promptly whined in alarm and flashed the “Farewell Cruel Universe” message before shutting down with a weak cough. Hope blossomed in Kif’s upper spine. With the TypeEasy Interface down, he wouldn’t be able to continue with the memoirs until it could be fixed or replaced. A long process if he had any say in the matter.

“Uh, sir?”

“What?” Zapp snapped irritably, and with no justification as far as Kif could see.

“Er, the EasyType sir, it’s failed.”

“Happens to every man, Lieutenant, some of us more than others.” Zapp’s lower lip trembled dramatically.

“Uh, no, sir. This thing,” Kif thumped the EasyType to remove the mystery, “doesn’t work anymore. The memoirs are safe in the computer-”

“What?! What happened to it?” Kif thought carefully for a third of a second.

“Space virus,” he said solemnly. “I’m afraid it’s not very hopeful.”

“Nothing’s hopeful when Zapp Brannigan’s around.” Kif could not disagree with that sentiment. “We’ll need a replacement then.”

“There are none, sir.” But Zapp was not listening.

Within a minute, he dropped a mangled bit of equipment that had clearly given up on life. “Here, use my Macopalatari from highschool.” Kif choked softly before following the rustbucket’s noble example.

“Without a word, Mom threw herself into his masculine arms and they left to start their new lives together.”
---------------------------------------
Suggestions are always welcome. I'm finding this an odd sort of story to write, not sure there's anything I can do about that though.
Toodles!
Venus

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #207 on: 08-01-2005 01:05 »

That...was funny beyond all reason. I wish i could come up with that kind of wordplay.
JBERGES

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #208 on: 08-01-2005 06:32 »

 
Quote
Hope blossomed in Kif’s upper spine
Kif doesn't have a spine  :)

 
Quote
“Nothing’s hopeful when Zapp Brannigan’s around.”
And that right there is the epitome of a good Zapp line.  You can tell he meant that to sound heroic...

This is coming along well. No direct suggestions to make at the moment, but if you have any questions or concerns you know where to ask.

NIC2001

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #209 on: 08-01-2005 13:37 »

Nice one Layla!

Poor Kif, How does he do it? I wouldn’t last 1 hour if I was in his boots.

Bye for now.
Shippy Mandy

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #210 on: 08-01-2005 15:32 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by Layla50:
He approached his commanding officer’s bulgy, dripping form, shaking like a bowl full of jelly in the way Robot Santa did not.

Brilliant.

I'm loving this new fic. It's hilarious! You're doing a great job of keeping Zapp and Kif in character. Seriously, it could be an actual episode.
Gorky

DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #211 on: 08-04-2005 17:57 »

Oh man...this has got to be one of the funniest fics I've read in a long time. Your Zapp writing is absolutely hysterical, and I feel so bad for poor Kif (hence the "poor" part). This is definitely an intersting little story, and I'm looking forward to seeing how you go about telling the rest of it.

Oh yeah, and this was absolutely hilarious...

 
Quote
‘I see only the keys, only the letters on the keys,’ Kif chanted to himself as the watery sounds coming from the Jacuzzium Mach 3 went from bubbling to splashing to silence. Relative silence.

And also this...

 
Quote
“Perhaps it was the energy in his stride, or the burning passion in his eyes, but either way he was as cool as a July afternoon and mother was attracted to him like a moth to a black kettle filled with angry butterflies.”

Keep up the great work. 
Ralph Snart

Agent Provocateur
Near Death Star Inhabitant
DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #212 on: 08-08-2005 23:52 »

Great writing.  I know that it's summer and most people are enjoying dating, eating out, catching some rays; just doing the life thing.

Then there are people like me; no life other than reading the fan fics.  Yes, I have become addicted.  I don't plan to do the 12 step program; I enjoy fan fics way too much.

Layla50, I just have one question?

When do we find out what happens to Leela?  The last I saw, she drowned saying Fry.  THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME!

Ahem.  Enjoy your summer.
Spacedal11

Space Pope
****
« Reply #213 on: 08-12-2005 23:18 »

 
Quote
Leela’s lungs heaved involuntarily, trying to suck in air, and after a few seconds, she could no longer control the need to breathe. As she sucked in nothing but black water, she clutched at Fry’s legs. Reaching up, she gave his hand one last squeeze. I love you and goodbye. You were my sunshine too, Fry.

Wahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :cry:. Damn you Layla, making me cry and feel bad. That's my song for my mom, I'm sad! And why with the cliffies? It's a burden! They can't die!!  :cry:
Layla50

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #214 on: 08-13-2005 21:01 »

Hey all! A little bit more of the Zapp story for you here, before I drop off the map for a while.
I'm absolutely desperate to finish "Fry's Choice" before school starts up again in September.

I owe a few of you emails as well which I hope to get out tommorow.

Spacedal11: Heya, sweetie. Thanks again for commenting so enthusiastically about my story. Sorry for making you cry, although I'm not really. I seem to be doing that to a lot of people, eh, Venus?  ;) If I tell you what's gonna happen (or not happen)now, it'll ruin the suspense, so just hang in there, eh?

Once again I'm thrilled that the song choice worked out so well for so many people. I was really concerned about the treacle factor when I wrote it.

Ralph: Oh right, the life thing... sure... I have a life, yeah. I adore fanfics too, but I've been reading less of them since I started writing this one. It sorta swallows up my computer time.

Hang in there! It's always such a pick me up that anybody ever talks to me.

Gorky: I notice you're having one of your discouragment sessions, if it makes you feel better, I inadvertantly plagerized an idea of yours and JBERGES loved it, so there you go. I'll email you with details, or edit this or something.

Metaphors are so much fun to mutate!

Shippy Mandy: Wow, sweetie, what a nice thing to say, thanks so much. I find this comedic stuff really difficult to write, especially as I'm juggling two original characters at the same time. For anyone bored with Zapp's parents, once I get to his birth the focus will be back on him.

Nic: glad you're enjoying it. I have no idea how lovable little Kif does it, but I love that he does!

JBERGES: Oh, shoot. Spines. In my original, hand written draft I wrote "some weird mollusk part" then I got lazy. See how much I need you? I'm trying not to burden you, but maybe I oughta be. Yay, Layla's gonna alienate her cuddly beta!

Venus: Aw, thank you! I'm glad I kept you entertained for a while. Aren't you glad I'm writing something light-hearted for a change?  :)

_____________________________ ______________

Frankfurter Brannigan was bubbling over with excitement. He had come up with a plan so perfect that he knew that nothing could go wrong. Not that his plans ever went wrong, of course! No, they usually vaulted straight over mere “wrong” to “9.8 Richter scale disaster.” On really bad days, Frank’s plans occasionally even made it all the way to Decapodian Beauty contest. But that wasn’t going to happen this time.

“Isn’t it a fabulous evening?” he chirped at the homeless being he’d just stepped on. The being spat something vile at him, but Frank paid it no heed. Tonight would be the night he would finally win the heart of the lovely, Naughty Nicki.

   As he neared the garishly colored door, the pounding music excited him further. Frank started to sweat. He usually tried to avoid the Tit-illating Shack on Saturday nights because those were always the busiest nights. He wanted to be noticed; he wanted to stand out, and he was an honest enough person to know that if there were a lot of people around, he was not going to stand out.

An excessively amourous couple passed him, headed for the same door. They brushed by him rudely, but he didn’t care. They were well past “tipsy” anyway. As for himself, Frank was floating on the sweet, sweet strains of love, and also his shoes… which had just stepped in gum!

“Euuughh…” he moaned in disgust, shifting his burden awkwardly as he tried to scrape off the sticky goo. In preparation for their evening, Frank was carrying a five-gallon barrel of wine, a dozen scraggly roses, and a cap gun for setting off a fireworks display he’d arranged with only a few premature detonations. True, they were illegal fireworks, and of none too high quality, but it was the effect that was important. Well, even if they didn’t work, he hoped Nikki would appreciate the effort. Taking a quick swig of courage from the small bottle he kept in his pocket, Frank opened the door.

That’s when it all went wrong.

   In retrospect, it would’ve been all right if only he had not taken the gun. Poor, dreamy-eyed Frank slipped on a puddle of booze left by an alien visitor who had discovered it was allergic to Fuzzy Navels. Naturally, the object of his affections turned around just in time to see him fall on his butt. Even that would not have been so bad, except that the slip set off a catastrophic chain of events that had to be seen to believed.

He lost his grip on the excessively large barrel of wine, which went merrily flying above the crowd to shatter on the stage at Nikki’s feet, soaking her, coiffed head to spangled toes. Frank did not even have time to feel mortified. The impact of butt to bar floor set off his pistol, which fired into an elaborate chandelier dangling over the stage, cutting its cable and sending it crashing down into the puddle of cheap wine. The stage was electrified for an instant, setting off the showy sparklers along side of the stage meant for a really big finish.

‘Stars, am I finished,’ thought Frank as he watched the sparks fly.

Fortunately, exotic dancers have fantastic reflexes and Nicki leapt off the stage with an alarmed shriek, disappearing into the crowd.

Great, his great plan was ruined. On what was to be their magical first date, he had nearly killed Nikki. Frank only wanted to crawl on his belly out of the bar, never to return, but first he had to apologize. Nikki was rather slight and he doubted she would be able to do him that much damage, unless of course she enlisted the services of the meaty-looking bouncer.

Frank stood shakily on his feet, pushing past sarcastically applauding customers and approached where she had fallen. Things were not looking good for her. Some rowdy drinkers we’re getting a little too friendly with the almost-dressed woman , so Frank did the only thing he could only do.

“Look, she's really a man!” he bellowed pointing over the heads of the partiers. As their heads inexorably turned, Frank dove in and grabbed a hold of Nicki’s arm, pulling her out of the crowd.

When they had safely moved to a quiet corner, Frank began to sputter an apology. Nikki stared at him with wide eyes, the she did what he’d never expected from her. She slapped him with all the force she could muster. Fire blossomed over his cheek in a really inappropriate metaphor. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

They stood there staring at each other, she furious, he, heartbroken, repentant and sore. Finally, not knowing what else to do, Frank scooped up the shredded remains of the roses and handed them to her. She yelped and dropped them.

The wrapper had fallen slightly and she cut her hand on the thorns. Perfect. Just perfect.

   “I am so, so sorry,” he apologized, cringing slightly as she stared at the blood on her finger.

“Oh, are you?” she asked coolly. Frank rubbed a tired hand over his eyes.

“Oh, yes. I don’t suppose you believe me, but I meant… nevermind,” he sighed. “Look, I won’t bother you anymore.” Frank laughed bitterly, “I think I’m hazardous to your health.” She shook her head and his heart dropped even further, landing somewhere in the Earth’s core.

“Bye.” Frank started to move towards the door, but at hand reach out and stopped him.

“ I think you owe me at least a bandage,” she smiled. It was a tense smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I’m off tomorrow.” She scrawled something on a nearby napkin. “Here’s my number. Give me a call. Maybe we can do something more fun than this has been.” Frank stared at her, dumbfounded. “At least I know it won’t be boring.” Nikki handed him the napkin, still ruefully shaking her head, and then headed off, presumably to treat the cut before resuming strutting her very sensual stuff.

‘Destiny comes in strange packages,’ he mused, before ducking away from the angrier crowd members and their murderous glares.
_____________________________ ___________
Shippy Mandy

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #215 on: 08-13-2005 23:09 »

It's turning out great, Layla! Of course Zapp's mom would be an exotic dancer. I don't think she COULD be anything else.
Venus

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #216 on: 08-13-2005 23:23 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by Layla50:
Fire blossomed over his cheek in a really inappropriate metaphor.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! That totally made my day!
DrThunder88

DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #217 on: 08-14-2005 04:23 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by JBERGES:
 
Quote
Hope blossomed in Kif’s upper spine
Kif doesn't have a spine  :)

[Zoidberg]You had to bring spines into this![/Z]

Layla, good update.  I am interested to see where you take this.

 
Quote
...that had to be seen to believed.
NIC2001

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #218 on: 08-14-2005 09:47 »
« Last Edit on: 08-14-2005 09:47 »

That was really funny Layla!  :laff:

You know, she was lucky! She only sustained a small cut from the roses torn. It could have been worst; she was luckily not hit by the flying glass from the broken wine bottle.

Sorry about that but… I have a small question about this fic.  :confused:  I don’t remember were but I read something sometime ago about Zapp’s mom. If I remember correctly, she was supposed to be highly respected by the high command of the DOOP. And that was why Zapp could do all those stupid wars on other worlds and send all of is troops to their deaths without getting court martial. I’ll be surely corrected on this but if what I read was official (I think it was in a comic book but I’m not sure) maybe she was highly respected because she used to dance for those men before they became the DOOP high command.

Anyway, that was a great Layla. I just can’t wait for the last part of Fry’s Choice.

Keep it up.  :)


P.s. Why do every girl/women knows how, were and when to slap a man in the face! How can those soft beautiful hands become deadly weapons? Did you know that it really hurt!!! Especially after shaving! And the worst part is that the real pain only comes later. And by that time, the guy is ether heartbroken or even more furious that he was before.

Luckily I did not get a lot of those back in the days. But you really never forget the sensation of it, it sting like hot burning napalm!

Bye for now.  :)   
Venus

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #219 on: 08-14-2005 09:51 »
« Last Edit on: 08-14-2005 09:51 »

I don't really remember anything being said about Zapp's mom in one of the comics. The only thing i remember ever reading that mentioned Zapp's mom was this really creepy fanfiction where Zapp was a hermaphrodite who was beaten and raped by his father as a child and served as a surrogate mother for Leela and Fry's baby after Leela won a beauty pageant. 

Actual fanfiction. I am not making this up.
NIC2001

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #220 on: 08-14-2005 10:06 »
« Last Edit on: 08-14-2005 10:06 »

WTF??? No realy Venus I did not get that from that. Were in hell did you read that Fanfic?

But I'm sure I read that somewere. But It could be from a Fanfic... I just don't remember.

Edit- Something just came back to me. A French mag from were I live did an article on Futurama a few years ago. (When Télétoon started run the show) And they did a small back story on all the major characters of the series. Maybe that's were I saw that. Got to try to find this magazine and check it out. (The mag was also interviewing Matt G. Billy W. and Katy S.)
Venus

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #221 on: 08-14-2005 10:10 »

I don't remember where i read that fic, i'm still trying to repress the memories of ever reading it at all. It got worse and worse the longer it went on, but it was like passing by a gory accident on the highway. You know you don't want to see the bloody carnage, but you can't help but look anyway.
Ralph Snart

Agent Provocateur
Near Death Star Inhabitant
DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #222 on: 08-14-2005 10:15 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by Venus:
I don't really remember anything being said about Zapp's mom in one of the comics. The only thing i remember ever reading that mentioned Zapp's mom was this really creepy fanfiction where Zapp was a hermaphrodite who was beaten and raped by his father as a child and served as a surrogate mother for Leela and Fry's baby after Leela won a beauty pageant. 

Actual fanfiction. I am not making this up.

Oh GAWD!  That is horrible on so many levels!  I take a perverted pride in being something of a deviant, but that is beyond the pale!

That's actually WORSE that some of the Kirk/Spock fan fiction that I've read in the past (and that was pretty disgusting).

NIC2001

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #223 on: 08-14-2005 10:17 »
« Last Edit on: 08-14-2005 10:17 »

It's in the human nature to be curious Venus. Every one tries not to look but we all do it.

I'm calling home to see if my Girlfriend can find the mag for me.

--Edit update--
Woops, she was sleeping! She looked in my bookshelf but did not find it. She said that the mag wasn’t with my Futurama stuff. Looks like I’ll need to go diving in the pile of mags that I’ve been collected during the years. I’ll do that tonight. (I’m at work now)    :(     


---Edit update 2---

I just go a call from my girlfriend. She found the mag!   :)  She says that in the interview they talk about the origins of the characters. Matt G., Billy W. and Katty S. are talking about the origin of Fry, Leela, Prof… etc… At one point in the interview, they say that Zapp’s from a very influent family and that’s why he got the job in the DOOP Space Navy.

Maybe you got it right Layla. Maybe Zapp’s mother dancing moves did influence some peoples in the DOOP at some point and that’s why he got the job. Now I just can’t wait to see how your story will go next.

(Layla, I hope I did not screw up your story with that small info. It was just told in an interview so maybe they told that just for fun or maybe this is one of the many ideal that never made it into the show.  If I did screw it up… Well I sorry!   :(   You know were to find me if I did something wrong.)
DrThunder88

DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #224 on: 08-15-2005 01:19 »

Maybe Nikki is just bumping and grinding her way through grad school or something.
Gorky

DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #225 on: 08-15-2005 08:32 »

Hey, cool, you stole my idea! Hooray for plagarism! I feel a little better now! (That is the entirely incorrect response to have when someone plagarizes, but I'm just that sort of individual is all.)

Anyway, onto the reviewing part:

Funny stuff. Sad stuff. Hopeful stuff. Writing worthy of more than two-word sentences. Need nap.

Er, anyway, great update. I like how you wrote Frank as a very sympathetic character. And--who knew?--exotic dancers have hearts! You wrote Nikki's disgust well, but also gave her an afore-mentioned heart. I like that.

So, um...can't wait to see what you have in store for us next. Keep up the great work.
NIC2001

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #226 on: 08-15-2005 12:41 »

OK! I’ve check the magazine last night and I must clarify something.

It was not Matt G. or Billy W. that said that Zapp was from an influent family. It was the Girl who was doing the interview. (They were talking about the origins of the characters.)

---
She said: -(translated from French text)- So we can say that he (Zapp) could come from a influent family that have tie in the space Navy (DOOP)?

Matt G. – Yeah something like that… we may never know.
Billy W. – Could be a great story though! (Laughs)
---

So Matt G. may have let something slip out but I don’t think we will see that story soon.  :hmpf:

Carry on your Fic Layla! Can’t wait to see what will happen next.

Oh yeah, the interview was made in late 2002. Katty S. still said that she really liked the show but she did not say much in the interview.

Bye for now.  :)
Shippy Mandy

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #227 on: 08-15-2005 17:19 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by Venus:
I don't really remember anything being said about Zapp's mom in one of the comics. The only thing i remember ever reading that mentioned Zapp's mom was this really creepy fanfiction where Zapp was a hermaphrodite who was beaten and raped by his father as a child and served as a surrogate mother for Leela and Fry's baby after Leela won a beauty pageant. 

Actual fanfiction. I am not making this up.


Eww. That's just WRONG. I've read some sick fanfics before, but...words cannot describe how wrong that is.  :puke:
Ralph Snart

Agent Provocateur
Near Death Star Inhabitant
DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #228 on: 08-16-2005 00:21 »

 
Quote
Originally posted by Shippy Mandy:
 
Eww. That's just WRONG. I've read some sick fanfics before, but...words cannot describe how wrong that is.   :puke:


There is much worse out there!  Somebody saw my comment about Kirk/Spock fan fics that were above and beyond in poor taste, so this person sent me a story about Leela and Amy that, well, let's just say that it wouldn't EVER make it to PEEL.

I'm all for artistic values and for imagination but Sweet Zombie Jesus, some people just take it WAY too far!

  :puke:
Spacedal11

Space Pope
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« Reply #229 on: 08-16-2005 22:18 »

Layla, I forgot to tell you. I did a picture of Leela during the "Rescue Fry from the Hospital scene". I've done one and I'm gonna do another one. If and when I can work on my scanner, I might be able to one day show you.
fryismyhero

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #230 on: 08-19-2005 03:44 »

<fry> WOW! it was all like "pow, pow, pow" and I was all like "woaaah" and then Leela was all like "gurgle gurgle drowning" and I was all like "gaaaah! 'sob'" </fry> :eek:   :eek:   :eek:

Yeah, but seriously,  I have just spent the last five days reading this, and must honestly say that this is one of the most well-written pieces of fiction I have ever read.  Seriously I was fighting back tears!  :cry:

Anyhoo, thanks for luing me out of lurking  :D 
JBERGES

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #231 on: 08-19-2005 21:01 »

Not a bad effort Layls, this is quite an interesting piece.

I think your first joke, the one about the levels of wrong, was a bit forced and out of place.  Other than that, things progressed well, and it was an amusing read throughout.  Really makes me wish I could write something funny for all you nice people to read... (dabs at tears in eyes with his writer’s block, which is surprisingly absorbent)

PS:

“but at hand reach out and stopped him.”

 a ;reached   ;)
Ralph Snart

Agent Provocateur
Near Death Star Inhabitant
DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #232 on: 09-15-2005 21:54 »

I think that I'll bump this thread just to let Layla know that we miss her, and of course, her story.
Layla50

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #233 on: 09-17-2005 00:53 »
« Last Edit on: 09-17-2005 00:53 »

Hey, well, it's nice to be missed, believe me. I'm still all wound up from actually talking to PEELers by phone. It led to a lot of revelations for me, such as I'm not the only dork in the universe and that PEELer's are not just words on a screen. (They are awesome, awesome people who are too good to waste their time on me, but they do!   :love:   :love:

So, have I abandoned my stories? Nope! Am I ready to strangle myself because I can't seem to end the big one? Oh, yeah! It's almost 2AM and I'm writing like mad and thinking I shouldn't wait 'til it's all written before posting again. But it'll be better if I do... oh, gee, I really don't know what to do. I'm still around though, and I'm making progress of a kind. I want this done before my first Peelaversery though, which means soon!

Back to the soul-crushing angst I go!

Edit: Well, it's a bit of a tease to leave this post with nothing fun for you so when I get back from work, assuming we don't lose power, I'll post yet another Venus inspired ficlet. 'Cause she's just that cute. It's called "Famous Last Words". Ta!
say what now

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #234 on: 09-17-2005 17:32 »

*undead*

Yay!! Layla writing!!
Um, sorry... I fell into a huge pit of inactivity, though I still lurked occasionally. I loved the Zapp story and I can't wait to see what new stuff you've written! Hooray!
commie detector

Starship Captain
****
« Reply #235 on: 09-17-2005 17:35 »

OMG ... how do you do that?!
Ol´coot

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #236 on: 09-17-2005 19:30 »
« Last Edit on: 09-17-2005 19:30 »

 
Quote
I want this done before my first Peelaversery though, which means soon!

Take your time Layla! We know it will be worth the wait   ;)
Layla50

Bending Unit
***
« Reply #237 on: 09-17-2005 22:17 »

Yay! People are paying attention to me! Oh, it's good to be posting a fic again. This is only half of it, 'cause I haven't finished it yet. It might be up later tonight. If not, probably tommorow.

Now, let me catch up on replies to all you marvelous people.

Ol'coot: Nice to see you around! I hope your faith is not misplaced, dear. I really do.

commie detector: Er... do what? Write stories or bring say what now back from the dead? It involves a lot of time and effort either way.  ;)

say what now: Yeee!! You are still alive! I had wondered tha very recently. I was sad 'cause I figured (arrogantly) that my not updating had bored you and cause you to wander away from PEEL. It was sadness causing. But you're back! Happiness! (Your pictures are beautiful! Fry looks so crazy and cute! And the random person was great, especially the dress!) Glad you liked the Zapper's story and glad to see you! See? kajshdflkuiwekj!

Ralph Snart: Hello!

JBERGES: You are awesome in your awesomeness gentle beta reader.
Nice call on the wrong joke, as I added it in later. I will lend you my chisel to chip away your absorbant writer's block, 'cause I miss you! I miss comedy fic!

fryismyhero: Whoo! Another delurker! This has gotta be some sorta record right? Welcome (although that's quite belated)! Loved the description! I laughed muchly. Glad you enjoyed my story! Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion... eventually!

Spacedal: Ooh! Pictures! That's cool and awesome! If you can ever get them scanned email me! (Or post em!) I'm dying to see them!

(And for my commentary on disturbing digressions I bring you Morbo and Linda:
Linda: Oh, she was horrified to think of such things!
Morbo: “Morbo feels that this is clearly an instance of the blackened soup receptacle classifying the tea-boiling device as dingy.”
Linda: (inane giggle)

Nic: Thanks for digging up that article. Even my Zapp fic has you thinking?! Scary! For future reference I've never slapped a guy like that, at least I don't remember doing it. Glad the story amused you!

Dr. Thunder:What is it with spines in sci-fi anyway? Glad you liked the update, hopefully it will really pick up when Zapp arrives on scene. What is it with me and backstories!

Venus: I had no idea you were into weird metaphors. I thought that was a Gorky thing. I have almost forgiven you for scaring me to death and back again.  ;)

Gorky: I hope you're still alive too! I miss ya! Shoot, I still haven't emailed you. I am an evil fiend. Sorry. Hope you enjoyed your nap. It's nice to hear you comment on the characterization of Zapp's mom and dad. It's weird to invent characters based on an established canon characters. Not easy, but fun! I'm glad they're sympathetic as I really want them to be, especially given the bundle of not-so-joy headed their way!

Shippy Mandy: Thanks sweetie! You're a gem!

And without further ado:

      "Famous Last Words"

It was all going according to plan…

   Phillip J. Fry, delivery boy less than extraordinaire, had reached a level of boredom that could have been fatal on some planets. (Namely Caffeinated V, where an omnipotent ten year old insisted that everyone be hyper all the time. If they weren’t… well, you know the rest.) Anyway, Fry was bored. He wanted to scream or dance or start a fire or write an off-Broadway play filled with bad spelling and dubious characterization.

Luckily for the world of theatre, Fry was also lazy. He really, desperately wanted something to happen, anything to relieve the mind numbing tedium. ‘Leela,’ he decided, ‘would probably be having the time of her life here.’ Perhaps he should have invited her.   

In the time he’d spent pursuing Leela, Fry had, despite her claims to the contrary, learned a thing or two. Principal among these was that he needed the element of surprise on his side. The gorgeous captain was getting far too good at shooting down his plans before he could actually do anything about them. Fry felt he had discovered a useful weakness in the skintanium armour that was Turanga Leela: the unexpected.

She had no skill at all in being spontaneous. Fry figured that that must mean she would struggle with rejecting him if he came up with a brilliant idea off the top of his head, something she didn’t see coming. So far, that theory hadn’t really gotten him anywhere. It had never worked for any of the bad guys trying to kill them. So Fry impulsively switched tactics and devised an actual, carefully laid out, detailed plan with writing and thinking and everything. He unfolded the worn piece of paper in his hand.
            
----------------------------------------
      Frys plane

1.   Have idea.

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

   It wasn’t a great plan in the beginning, but a commercial had come along that made it a much better plan. The highly exclusive “public” rocket skating rink was going to open its doors for people under the rank of “Mayor’s aid” for two nights only. He hadn’t thought much about it until Leela had spotted the ad. She starting gushing about her childhood in the orphanareum again, but just before he dozed off, she mentioned how special it was when she’d gotten to rocket skate at that same arena. It had ended badly of course, and she’d been locked in a bathroom stall by a well-meaning janitor. Before that though, it had been magical. After the sixth time she casually mentioned it, he’d suggested that they go, but Leela vetoed it immediately, saying it would be impossible to get tickets.

Enter Philip J. Fry, master of the impossible.

The problem was that mastering the impossible sounded like a lot more fun than it actually was. “You know,” he began, heedless of the irritated grumbling of the… person-like thing… in front of him in line, “This is the Future!” Fry always capitalized the word. “Shouldn’t there be some sort of futuristic magic trick to make waiting in line fun?” When no one responded, Fry tapped the growling being on what he assumed was its shoulder. “Hey! Listen, don’t you think you guys should have made-”

   “No.” It responded in a voice so threatening that it would have made Darth Vader sound like a cartoon chipmunk.

   “Really?” Fry bubbled, happy that someone was talking to him. Conversation was slightly more interesting that staring at the back of the weird thing’s head.

   “NO.” Three lesser beings fainted. The compassionate New New Yorkers pushed their limp bodies out of line.

   “Really?!” Fry repeated with an amazed shake of his head.

   “Noooo.” It breathed. Somewhere, Morbo shivered.

   “Huh. Well, I do.” Fortunately for Fry, the carnivorous being was on the Scarsdale diet. It turned away from him and Fry gave up.

   Four hours later, he’d finally made it to the head of the line, hoping desperately because scalping was a more literal profession than it was in his time, and hopping desperately because he really had to pee. “Please, tell me there’s tickets left!” he cried, lunging forward to prevent anyone from taking his turn.

   “Yes, sir. ‘There’s tickets left.’” It quoted him obediently. “Would you like to purchase passes for rocket skating?”

   “Yes! Yes! I would!” Fry asked for three, one for the first night opening and two for the second. He winced a little when the vendor quoted him the price, but it would be worth it for Leela. Fry carefully stored the tickets in his underwear. It was the only place Bender didn’t rifle through regularly.

   Fry really, desperately wanted to look good rocket skating. It would all be pointless if Leela was completely delighted with the tickets only to be completely embarrassed when Fry did something stupid like breaking every bone in his body, or worse, breaking every bone in her body. Besides, that’s what always happened. Well, not breaking bones, unless Bender or Zapp Brannigan were involved somehow, but Fry did always seemed to botch it, often in new and creative ways, and Leela would get angry and say, “This is why I tell you no!”

Sometimes she apologized after, in that ‘let’s just be good friends’ kinda way. Fry really, desperately didn’t want to hear that message again.

   So, he would practice. On the first night, he would strap dangerous, potentially explosive, high speed skates to his feet and see what happened.
----------------------------------------

   An hour before the first skate was scheduled to begin, Fry paced outside the door to the rental shop, unwilling to waste a single minute of precious ice time trying to figure out how one went about getting into rocket skates. Roughly every thirty second or so, his tension increased until he was nearly vibrating. When a voice spoke, he metaphorically snapped.

   “Oh, oh my. Someone’s certainly looking forward to a peaceful rocket skate.” Fry spun and fixed wild eyes on the tiniest, most fragile looking human being he had ever seen. He was wearing some sort of uniform and smiling warmly at Fry in a manner that suggested he had all the time in the universe. Fry was all too aware he did not.

   “Are you-” Fry winced when his voice jumped an octave. He swallowed and tried again. “Um, hi. I was just wonderingifyouweretheguywhore ntsskates?” The words ran together as a direct result of the adrenaline surging through his body like a hyperactive seven year old on a pixie stick bender.

   The elderly man tipped his head quizzically and looked thoughtful for a long moment before saying with great gravity, “Pardon?”

   “Aieee!” Fry screamed, hands tripping over each other to jam themselves in his mouth to muffle the sound. Sanity was good. After a minute, Fry managed to settle himself enough to ask, “Skates?”

   The increasingly maddening old guy watched him placidly, wearing a vaguely puzzled expression. “Pardon?” he asked again, if anything slower and more gravid than before.

   Fry ground his teeth in frustration. Suddenly, a message from his brain informed him that his hands hurt. He thought about this, and then took them out of his mouth. “Skates?” he tried again in a last ditch effort.

   “Skates?” Old Guy mumbled, before brightening, “Yes,” he crooned in a distinctly condescending tone. “You put skates on your feet to go skating. I’m in charge of renting them to skaters.” He smiled kindly up at Fry. “Would you like to see my pretty skates?”

   Fry nodded childishly; if nods could lisp sweetly, this one would have. Victory!

   “That’s great. Let me just get my key.” He held up an industrial sized key ring that Amy could have worn at a nightclub while Fry slumped to the bench, head in courageous hands.

   Twenty minutes later, the would-be rocket skater was ten bucks poorer and busily fawning over the hard-won skates. “Let’s see, foot holes, warning label, sharp metal blades, warning label, filthy grey laces, warning label, liquid hydrogen ignition thingie, scary red button. Fry looked closely at the red button. It was very red. It looked like exactly the sort of button that might cause things to happen. Red sorts of things. He tipped the back of the skate towards his face and let his right hand meander towards the button in a casual, “I’m certainly not going to press this tempting red button” sort of way. The element of surprise was clearly the domain of the delivery boy, he decided and hit the button.

   He was very surprised.

“YOU COMPLETE MORON!” yelled Mom’s recorded voice from the skate. “IF YOU ARE STUPID ENOUGH TO PRESS THE RED BUTTON” and the voice melted abruptly into the most grandmotherly voice imaginable, “then I’m afraid I must inform you that you are using these quality, hand knit rocket skates at your own risk. Take a bit of advice from a weary old grannie and kiss your fat donkey carcass goodbye.”

   “Aw, she’s such a dear,” Fry sighed, “Kinda reminds me of my own grandmother-” His thoughts suddenly took him in an NC-17 direction and he hastily jammed his hand into his mouth and bit down hard.

   Other excited skaters had started to arrive by this point and Fry watched them carefully to see how they got the skates on. Closest to him, a wiry, white haired man with a distinctly upper-class accent was chatting to his fur-wearing companion.

“So I said, well, murder is a crime naturally, but we are talking about poor people here, and you can’t expect them to function in civilized society.”

   “Wow,” Fry interjected, “you’re that judge guy who hangs out at all Bender’s court appearances. What are you doing here?”

The woman looked at him askance, but Judge Whitey soothed her, “It’s okay, Muffy, you have to expect these kinds of things to happen. That’s why were here after all, to slum with the common people.” He didn’t address Fry at all, but Fry didn’t notice or care.

   “What a world we live in,” he murmured in delight, “Your friend wears fur stoles and titanium rings, my friend is titanium and sells stolen furs to crime rings. Yet, here we are together. Beautiful, really.” It was really just as well for Fry and Bender that the couple had decided to slum in higher circles.

   Shrugging off the encounter, Fry turned back to the problem of getting the skates on. It seemed to him no different than putting twentieth century skates on, so he picked one up and started to slide his foot in.

   “Aaaiieeee!” Fry stopped, surprised as a man threw himself over a bewildered person and grabbed Fry’s skate. “Dude, are you crazy?!” he demanded, aghast.

   Hesitantly, Fry said, “no?”

   “You haven’t got the safety on!” The big guy shifted on Fry’s lap, making him very uncomfortable before flicking a small switch. He got up and they both breathed a little easier, though for very different reasons. “Seriously man, you’ve got to be more careful. You coulda done some major damage.”

   “Er, thanks,” Fry muttered, hoping Competent Sports Man would just go away.

   “No problem, little man,” he replied to Fry’s chagrin. C.S.M. flashed a perfect smile at the girls tittering at the scene before continuing. “This your first time?”

   “Uh,” Fry swallowed hard, “First time for what?”

   “R.S., dude.” The redhead stared at him. “Rocket skating!”

   “Oh, oh! I get it!” Fry laughed nervously. “Yeah, it is.” Fry really, desperately did not want to ask for the help he really, desperately needed. Fortunately, he didn’t have to.

C.S.M., with a flirty grin to the women watching him, was quick to volunteer. “The safety stays on while you’re not on the ice, that way you don’t burn holes in things, or people.” Seeing Fry’s glassy stare, he added, “That’s bad.”

   “Right, right,” Fry nodded, “So now I put the skate on?”

   “Sure thing!” C.S.M. talked him through basic safety procedures so Fry wouldn’t blow himself into “a pile of little dudes”, then demonstrated how to lace the skates. By the end of the lecture Fry was reluctantly grateful to Competent Sports Man, who’s actual name, it turned out, was Butch. The delivery boy much preferred the name C.S.M.

He let his guardian go to the tender mercies of every 20 something straight female in the rink and approached the ice. Taking a moment for a short Leela fantasy, Fry stepped onto the ice… and went down like a ton of bricks. Big heavy ones.

As he lay on the welcoming, cement-like ice, Fry heard an unwelcome voice bellow, “Dude! You gotta take the guards off first!” followed by admiring giggles.
----------------------------------------

   It was perhaps the longest three hours of his life. Once he’d gotten the guards off, and became used to the weight of the rockets, it didn’t go too badly. He stopped slamming violently into the ice and even managed to skate backwards for a while. Fry’s optimism had nearly returned in full force when he heard it.

   “Mommy? Why isn’t that man using his rockets?” It was lucky for all concerned that C.S.M. had not been the one to point it out. With indescribable embarrassment, Fry suddenly understood why he was being passed by children and the elderly alike.

   He didn’t want to take the safety off. He really desperately didn’t want to take the safety off, but Philip J. Fry also really desperately wanted Turanga Leela. He flicked the switch.

------------------------------------------
Um... this wasn't supposed to be a cliffie but, there you have it. It's all Venus' fault.  :)   
Venus

Urban Legend
***
« Reply #238 on: 09-18-2005 02:25 »

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! Hurray! Shippy!
DrThunder88

DOOP Secretary
*
« Reply #239 on: 09-18-2005 02:32 »

 
Quote
The compassionate New New Yorkers pushed their limp bodies out of line.

I'm not going to quote every great joke, so I'll just quote my favorite.  I thought there was something I didn't like, but on re-reading it, I can't find anything.  I must be nuts.

Thanks for starting yet another story that I'll have to follow.
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