Hooray! Not-so-newbie fanfic!

[Reply #240 on:]

Hey, it's Layla, and she's being all funnier-than-me again! Well, I guess that's really not that much of a compliment, but you get the idea, right?

Anyway, I will mimic Venus in her scary "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! Hurray! Shippy!" comment by saying, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! Hurray! Shippy!" It's been a while since we've seen you writing Fry/Leela shippiness, and I'd almost forgotten how great you are at it.

But, I didn't forget how great you are when it comes to writing funny...comedy...stuff. Like this:

 

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

I found you describing the character as Competent Sports Man hilarious. I'm totally and completely serious. Isn't that just plain old sad?

Er, anyway, I really like this story, and I also really want to see how you go about ending it.  And I'm pretty sure that's a good thing. So, um...keep it up.

[Reply #241 on:]

I, too, shall mimic Venus and Gorky, for I can't think of anything better to say.

Ahem...

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

Fry's just so adorable...he reminds me of a puppy. A stupid, romantic puppy.

You captured that quite well, as usual.

[Reply #242 on:]

So much for the exciting conclusion... this is part two of three. Darn plot bunnies. I blame you, Venus, and your adorable ways. On the plus side, how long has it been since I posted two story bits in a row?!

Shippy Mandy:Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Also the laziest.    Watch in horror as I kick the adorable puppy that is Fry.

Gorky's alive!: Whee! If I'm funnier than you than it's only due to the humorous steroids and blantant plagiarism. (Stop being so hard on yourself, silly and funny person!)

It is really nice to get back to the Fry/Leela shippiness. Reminds me of why I started doing this in the first place. Fun for you guys maybe, fun for me? You betcha!

I hope it isn't sad that C.S.M. is hilarious, because it would have been sadder if he wasn't. (Wait, what did I just say?)

Encouragement from you is always a very good thing, dear!

Dr.Thunder: Master of fiendishly difficult puzzles.
Im sure you are nuts for being unable to find anything you didn't like.    There's nothing more fun that reinforcing cultural stereotypes!

I hope you enjoy being confused as much as I enjoy confusing you.

Venus: Heh, and to think I was gonna apologize to you for not getting the shippy part out yet.   

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

   If Fry had been capable of coherent thought, that thought would have run somewhere along the lines of, 'What homicidal maniac decided to wreak his sublime vengeance on the world by attaching rockets to ice skates, which are already plenty dangerous, thank you very much!'

However, Fry lacked both the inclination and the capacity for such a thought. His actual thought, in the closest possible transcription, went
thusly, “EEEEAAAAIIIIIEEEAAARRRGGGHHH!”    
   Fry had been leaning his weight ever so slightly forward when he activated the rockets, sending a message to the skates that he wanted to go faster than he wanted to go…ever. The compact rockets burst into action with an impressive roar. As a direct result, poor love-struck (and how!) Fry screamed the scream of the damned as he went into warp drive across the ice.

The only thing that saved his life from a nasty end at the hands of a concrete barrier was a nasty fall onto the ice. For what seemed to him like a long time, he lay there, feeling the overhead lights stab into his brain, trying to figure out who he was and why he was sprawled on something cold and hard.

   A shadow blocked the light from his eyes, forming a glorious halo around someone’s beautiful head. A dreamy smile touched his lips as he recognized Leela. “I can’t believe you would do something like this,” came her astonished voice. ‘Funny, she sounds like she’s got a head cold.” His analytical mind wanted to study the problem further, but it was easily voted down by the part of his brain controlled by hormones. Just about all of his brain really.

“C’mon Leela,” he chided lightly while the world sparked and spun around them. “You know I’d do anything for you, except bathe everyday.”

   “That can’t be good,” Leela muttered, though she sounded even stranger than before.

   “Does anyone really bathe every single day?” Fry tried to defend himself, “Half the time we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere with strangers trying to kill us! You can’t really expect-”

Before he could really get into his rant about unrealistic expectations, Leela ran her hands over his head and across his chest, cheering him up considerably. “Whoa, Leela!” he couldn’t keep the lascivious grin from sauntering over his face, even though she had really hairy knuckles. “Not that I mind, baby, but isn’t this a little public for-?” Wait. Where was he?

   “You are one funny little man, dude,” chuckled the now intimately familiar, intensely hated voice.

   Heedless of his burgeoning collection of blunt force trauma, Fry bolted upright and rolled out from under the tender administrations of Competent Butch Man, er, Butch Competent Muscles, er Sporty Muscle Bag, er... Fighting back the urge to wretch, Fry pressed his face into the cool steadying surface beneath him until his chilled forehead ached.

   “You okay, budster?” C.S.M. asked in infuriatingly genuine concern. Fry waved an arm in what he hoped was a vaguely reassuring manner. “Glad to hear it. He’s okay, everybody!” Sparse claps and a half-hearted cheers broke out, followed by a chorus of skates being fired up. Fry discovered where he had been storing that last little shred of dignity by listening to the anguished shriek as it died.

----------------------------------------
   By the time, Fry dragged himself home to collapse on the floor of his shared apartment with Bender, he had revived enough of his battered psyche to feel vaguely self-satisfied. Though he had become more intimately acquainted with the ice, boards and Competent Sports Man than he had with some of his old girlfriends, it had been worth it. In the last ten minutes of the skate, Fry had learned just enough steering tricks to be able to do laps. It was the most glorious accomplishment of his life by a wide margin, and, sadly and pathetically, that did not strike him as sad or pathetic in the least. He didn’t really hurt that much, and tomorrow, he thought blissfully, as well-earned sleep claimed him, tomorrow he’d nonchalantly present Leela with the invitation of a lifetime.

------------------------------------------
   The Best Laid Plans O' Mice and Men Gang Aft Aglay…

   …and an ugly morning too it was for Fry. He had not felt all that badly before crashing the night before, but that was simply because muscles are hive animals, and one of them is always slow and pokey, holding everyone else up. That’s why they most often wait until the morning after to inform you that you are a colossal idiot.

   Fry woke up to the miserable cacophony of nearly 700 muscles making clear to him why the felt he was an amazing, colossal idiot. He tried to say ‘ow,” but he was not up to the task at all.

   “Uhnnnnn,” he moaned plaintively, really, desperately hoping Bender would hear it and rescue him, until he realized what he was hoping for. “Nvrmnd,” he sighed, having used up all his vowel strength in his first plea. Fry set about apologizing to each of his muscles until they decided to help him fall out of bed.

   By some unholy aid, (you know the bending unit I mean), Fry made it in to Planet Express where he found a convenient space of linoleum to be very, very still on until Leela strolled in, whistling merrily. The sight of him lying on the floor put a stop to that rather quickly, a fact that his ear muscles appreciated.

   “Fry! What in the name of Douglas Adams happened to you?!”

   Right. Talking. He remembered doing that. One of the face parts was involved somehow. As Fry tried to piece together the lost art of conversation, Leela started prodding him in much the same manner as C.S.M. had the evening previous. This time he was fairly certain it was Leela anyway.

Fry would have been thrilled beyond the dreams of base jumpers everywhere had not his rebelling muscles interfered. Being pawed by C.S.M. had actually been a more pleasurable experience. He wanted to cry, and would have if only it wouldn’t have meant his immediate death.

   “No blood, no broken bones…” Leela looked into his eyes. “Hangover?” He could have denied it, but he would have had to come up with another lie to avoid ruining their magical evening of happy happiness. After organizing a resistance force to counter the rebellion, Fry tipped his head in assent and watched mutely as all sympathy faded from Leela’s face.

   “On a Tuesday night?” she demanded, not quite as incredulous as Fry wanted her to be.

   “I had a really good reason,” Fry began weakly.

   “Which was?” Leela asked, never moving her eye from his face.

   “Ummm?” he offered hopefully. The cyclops rolled her eye and stalked out of the room.

   Just when he thought he knew what feeling miserable was like, he found out he was wrong. His right calf jabbed at him in scornful agreement. His spirits lifted almost a picometre when Leela returned a minute later with a wet cloth, a glass of water and a couple of Trylenols. Opiates for the muscle masses.

She lifted his head and gave him the pills, washing them down with the water. With almost unnatural strength, Leela pulled him to his feet and helped him over to the sofa. Once he was lying down, she brushed his tousled hair from his forehead and placed the damp cloth where it would be the most soothing. Fry tried to send her gratitude and love signals with his eyes, but her receiver was down.

   “You are so lucky,” she chided. In that moment, Fry had to agree. “Hermes is on his one day mandatory stress leave and the Professor is getting his hips upgraded. ‘The Captain,’” she muttered, switching oddly to the third person, “is feeling lenient today, so you’re gonna get off.” Fry completely misinterpreted that remark, so it was just as well the analgesics had gotten bogged down in the trenches of his stomach lining.

Leela frowned down at him with such a serious expression that he felt a jolt run through him. “We all need a little stress reliever from time to time, Fry, but when it starts to affect work, it’s getting out of hand. Be careful.” With a friendly pat on the arm in parting, Leela left him alone to think.

   She thought he had a drinking problem? Leela thought he had a drinking problem?! It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, he had to admit, but still! Utter dismay conquered any last thoughts he had of sticking it out until the date. It was over. He had blown it, big time. Instead of a once-in-a-lifetime dream date, Fry had gotten a humiliating lecture from one of the few people whose respect he actually wanted.

   When Amy wandered in, mid-pity wallow, she hardly noticed him.   

   “Hey, Amy.”

   “Hmm? Oh. Hey, Fry.” She was obviously in one of her low-key moods.

   “K’mere for a sec.” Amy glanced at him vacantly, then wandered over.

   “Yeah?”

   Fry fought back an unmanly whimper. “Some guy dropped off a couple of rocket skate tickets. Why don’t you show ‘em to Leela?”

   The intern smiled brightly. “Oh, hey! I love rocket skating! Two tickets?!Maybe Armando-”

   Fry tried to sit up in his alarm, but Amy didn’t register it. “No! Uh, I mean, you know, maybe you need a girl’s night out or something.”

   “With Leela?” Amy asked, faintly skeptical. “Alright. Well, whatever. I’ll go ask her.” Without another word, she grabbed the tickets and left the room.

   “See ya, Amy.” At last Fry let himself sink into the embrace of the coffee (among other things)-stained couch. He started to drift off, despite the nagging worry that things would be even worse when he woke up again. Fry really, desperately tried to be happy that Leela, at least, would have a great evening, but he really, desperately failed.
   
-----------------------------------------

Is there a good ship fic out there that doesn't have at least a dollop of angst? No, I'm serious, tell me, 'cause I really wanna know.   

[Reply #243 on:]

Venus; Gorky; Shippy M: It’s no wonder ‘E’ is the most commonly used letter in the English language...

Nice work on this new story Layla, what we have here is some sort of ship-edy, and it all seems to flow together pretty well.

     

“Sure thing!” C.S.M. talked him through basic safety procedures so Fry wouldn’t blow himself into “a pile of little dudes”,

Heheh. I can picture this guy so well... I don’t know why.

     

he sighed, having used up all his vowel strength in his first plea

Another fun line...

Overall, an excellent effort.  Who needs me around to do comedy and fun phraseology anyway?  Looks like you’ve basically got it covered.*  Though you always throw that angst in there...  I feel bad for Fry; especially because I'm the type that's instantly infuriated when someone believes something about me that isn't true.

*But don’t worry Layls, l’ll be back soon enough anyway.  I have enough material to update now, but I need to complete the scene I'm working on, and to fix it all up a bit, which may take some time

[Reply #244 on:]

Time to perform the Happy Dance!  Left Left Right..no wait, Right Left Right,..no, you put your right leg in..aww screw it i'm just gonna spin round in a circle till i fall down.

Weeeeeeeeeeee!!

[Reply #245 on:]

I remember what I didn't like, but it doesn't really matter.  I'm also like J epathizing with Fry and being mad when people think things that aren't true about me.  Actually, that rarely happens or I rarely care, so never mind.  The point is, I am duly and once again impressed.

[Reply #246 on:]

Nice work Layla!

Can't wait for the last part of it!

Can't wait for the rest of Zapp's fic and Fry's choice but...

Keep up the good work!

[Reply #247 on:]

L-A-Y-L-A

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 . I is so happy to see you back. I didn't realize for a while that it wasn't "Fry's Choice" I was reading  . Hope you're still working on that. Oh I've missed your discriptive writting and such. I love these stories!

[Reply #248 on:]

Aww...poor Fry. 

I have to say, Competent Sports Man is funny. Mainly because of his nickname.

[Reply #249 on:]

Wow Layla, just spence a whole day at college reading your fic! It really is amazing so I guess I just wanted to say thanks   

 On an unrelated note: Becky, where did you get that avatar? It's really cool and kinda looks a bit like me    I want one! Hope you don't mind me stealing it and putting it in my sig? hehe

[Reply #250 on:]

Layla!  I forgot to mention how much I love this new bit earlier, so I'll do it now.

I love this new bit, but I lack the time and reviewing skill to do it justice.  It's great though.

I have to say, you're not very good at closure though, are you.

(PS: Venus: my happy dance has always been up up down down left right left right B A Start, but you may be thinking of something else.)

[Reply #251 on:]

 

Originally posted by Nerd-o-rama:
...My happy dance has always been up up down down left right left right B A Start...

LOL!!!

Classic!

So many memories are coming back to me now... This dance will always be part of our generation! (Gamer generation)

[Reply #252 on:]

Hey Layla, I got a present for you. It's called, "Spacedal's scanner is now working!" Yay!
That means,



Hope you like it.

[Reply #253 on:]

RRRRRRAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHraarrrr!!

That was my monstrous call of sadness... or something... I really don't know.

OK, before I get into the actual story, this needs to be said...

 

Originally posted by Layla50:
Watch in horror as I kick the adorable puppy that is Fry.

I love you.

That said... I cannot tell you how many times the giggling struck. Well, exactly, anyway. The whole C.S.M. "groping" Fry was hilarious. And it was also sadly cute that he didn't think it was pathetic that his biggest accomplishment in life was pathetic...

Also, this:

 

Originally posted by Layla50:
He had not felt all that badly before crashing the night before, but that was simply because muscles are hive animals, and one of them is always slow and pokey, holding everyone else up. That’s why they most often wait until the morning after to inform you that you are a colossal idiot.

Fry woke up to the miserable cacophony of nearly 700 muscles making clear to him why they felt he was an amazing, colossal idiot.

made me die. It makes me want to say that I love his muscles (for being so funny of course), but I'm not exactly sure how that'd go over out of context... so I'll just say I love you! Again!

The rest was sad, about Leela thinking he had a drinking problem  . And it was also sad that he gave the tickets away while crediting someone else... no, seriously. I can't stand when stuff like that happens. I get all depressed...

Other than that, lovelier than loveliness itself. Funny, cute, angsty (because what would fics be without a bit of angst?), and all that jazz... I want more!!

[Reply #254 on:]

Hmm... well thanks muchly for all the support everyone! I appreciate it more than you know. Venus, you're getting your blood. Enjoy it. There's room for an epilogue here if anyone's interested.

Starts weak, but gets better, so hang in there!

Personal replies will be edited on tommorow sometime. 'Cause it's 1:30AM.

Part 3:
Opening Eye
------------------------------------------

“I’m just saying, it’s not like him!” Leela shouted over the noise of the happy, animated crowd.

   “Yes, and you keep saying it,” Amy replied, rolling her eyes cutely in her own well-practiced technique. Leela frowned at her, unsatisfied.

   “Well, I’m worr- mildly concerned about him, that’s all.”

   “He’ll be fine, Leela,” she insisted, “he always is. You can’t honestly think Fry’s a drunk!” Amy gasped as she narrowly avoided tripping over the perfectly level surface of the ice.

   When she steadied herself, the cyclops still looked miserable. Surprise, surprise. “I wouldn’t say so normally, but he was a complete mess this morning. He looked like he’d been playing Twister: F5 Edition with Zoidberg again, only without the smell. Besides, he’s so helpless against Bender’s influence." Leela looked completely anxious, and it was killing Amy's good time. "I just don’t know what’s going on with him, and I don’t like not knowing…” Leela trailed off, staring into space. Even without looking, the cyclops easily dodged a mitten that had gone astray. Melodic Asian curses whispered in Amy’s jealous ear.

   “Even Fry understands the difference between a robot and a human. He did really well in the “Things You Must Never Do for Bender” course that Hermes set up,” she offered helpfully.

Leela’s moody expression continued to stand in the way of Amy’s fun, so she switched tactics. “Look Leela, every man has his off days. Every once in a while, even Armando X. Cruz gets all melty, and not in the good way.” She felt she’d made some progress when Leela’s lips tensed just enough to add ‘confused’ to the thesaurus rich levels of unhappiness they were already expressing.

   “There’s a good way to be “melty”?” Amy lips did a few contortions of their own, investigating the many flavours of the word, ‘lecherous’.

   “Oh, yes,” she sighed. “That’s why I only date him on every second Tuesday in months with the letter ‘A’ in them.” Leela did not press her for details.

   “Maybe you’re right,” she announced in the manner of someone trying to convince someone else of her sincerity while feeling entirely insincere. “I’m sure Fry’ll be fine. He’ll be up and around by now anyway, and after all, why should I throw away my entire evening just to chide him for being so miserable?”

   Amy nodded. “That’s the spirit!” she replied supportively, all the while really desperately wishing she hadn’t accidentally dropped her little black book in a duck pond that afternoon. It was either invite Leela or pick up some random hot stranger, and she just wasn’t in the mood to put in that kind of effort today.

   “Except, except that that’s just the sort of thing I would do,” Leela finished doubtfully. Amy blew out through pursed lips in irritation and Leela shot her an apologetic glance.

The older woman fired up the rockets and launched herself into a delicate spin that Amy couldn’t have done if her social life depended on it. Leela came out of the spin and returned to her. “It is wonderful to be here, with the cool breeze and the raw scorching Freudian power under my feet.” With a sincerity that startled Amy, Leela added, “Thanks for inviting me, and tell your parents I said thanks, too.”

   She frowned at the cyclops, “Why?”

   Leela shrugged, “Well, I know they’re incredibly rich and all, so it wasn’t hard for them to get the tickets, but it’s still a nice gesture. You’ve got great parents.” Amy wasn’t particularly self-aware, but she knew she didn’t want to hear about how great her parents were. Leela’s eye took on that watery quality that usually warned of an impending bout of orphanarium-inspired self-pity.

   “The tickets aren’t from my parents,” she said quickly, hoping to turn the tide. “I don’t know where they’re from actually.” At Leela’s surprised brow-wrinkling she added, “Fry said some guy dropped them off. He’s the one who suggested I invite you.” Amy hoped that would be some consolation for the cyclops. But she didn’t seem consoled, she seemed shocked.

   Leela gasped dramatically. “So that explains it then!” Then she immediately calmed, adding nonchalantly, “I mean, what are the odds of you inviting me out on your own whim.”

   Amy was hurt, but not surprised. She patted Leela’s arm in a sisterly manner. “Don’t feel that way, Leela. It’s not like your so freakish looking that I wouldn’t be seen in public with you.” She glanced around to make sure none of her cotillion friends were around before smiling kindly at the purple-haired woman.

“All you need is a little make up, and a better hair cut, and maybe lose a few pounds er,” Some of the hostility newly radiating in the air caught Amy’s attention but she couldn’t stop herself from adding, “and you really should do something about that unibrow…” Finally, Leela’s furious stare bored a whole into her armour and Amy managed to trail off awkwardly. Judging from Leela's expression, this was not going to make it a fun evening. Nearly frantically, Amy tried to find something positive to say. After a few seconds, she blurted, “And you’re such a good skater! Makes you look much younger,” she added brightly. To Amy’s intense relief, Leela winked in surprise and a reluctant smile crossed her face.

   “I guess, I guess I am a good skater,” she murmured, almost shyly, as if it was some sort of revelation. Amy knew Leela was very intelligent, and intense in every sense of the word. She was the only person Amy had met who could take down a Vampiric Richard Simmons clone without unattractively retching, yet Leela could completely fall to pieces over a more or less sincere compliment. She watched in strange fascination as Leela’s face began glow with defiant pride. “Yeah!” she yelled, startling more than a few skaters, “I am a good skater! You hear that, jerkwads?!”

   Amy was quick to downplay the grinning lunatic beside her. “Ignore her. She’s off her meds. I’ve never seen this woman before in my life,” Amy hissed out a litany of blithe reassurances.

   Leela either didn’t notice or didn’t care, launching herself into the air with a jubilant leap. Amy couldn’t help but feel a bit of envious adoration. “Physicality is definitely your friend,” she grudgingly muttered as Leela circled back.

   “I’ve always had a bit of a knack for sports,” the cyclops announced cheerfully, “provided they aren’t heavily dependant on depth perception or teamwork. C’mon! Let’s skate!” Without waiting for Amy’s consent, Leela snatched hold of her arm and began dragging her forward.

   “Okay, okay! Spleesh! Leela, let go!” Amy squeaked in terror before she managed to find her precarious balance. They skated together for a while in silence, Leela in a state of near rapturous joy, Amy breathing heavily as her heart fell back into its normal rhythm.

   A guy swooped in front of them before turning to skate beside Leela. “That was suh-weet, skater babe! Where’d you learn to slag a hanky like that?” While Amy tried to recover from the slight of having Totally Hot Fantastic Stud completely ignore her to talk to Leela, the cyclops had launched into her life story.

   “-so I attached the laser cutters to the sewer boots, and wallah! Cheap and highly destructive skates!”

   “Wikipedic!” Totally Hot Fantastic Stud, Amy noted with distaste, was practically drooling. Typical of Leela to blow it, though, with all that talking.

   “-and so he told me I would have spend the entire summer re-paving the courtyard. That’s how I picked up my first applied trade, too.” 

   Amy decided to intervene in the borefest. “Leela, why don’t you introduce me to your charm-” That did it. She had taken her delicately slanted eyes off the ice, and the long threatening, terribly patient, sword of Damocles dropped. Amy dropped too, just flopped down on the surface as though gravity had suddenly remembered that she had stolen it's boyfriend.

Fortunately, she’d been slightly ahead of Leela and so missed badly scorching her arm in the rocket’s flame. Unfortunately, she’d been slightly ahead of Leela and so did not miss tripping the cyclops, causing her to slam face-first into the rock-hard ice. THFS naturally escaped unscathed.

   “Gnarly! Are you still biting?!” He bellowed, calling out to Amy as he turned Leela over.

   “I’m fine, I’m fine!” she waved him towards Leela. Fear seized her heart and she felt colder even than the icy landing would justify. Even someone with the medical expertise of Zoidberg could see that it had been a bad fall. She burrowed her head in her hands. Leela had not even had time to scream.

“Is she okay?!” Amy shrieked, when no answers were forthcoming. Voices clamoured around them, but she could not pick out Leela’s from among them.

   “Easy, easy. Can you stand?” Amy uncovered her face and allowed a woman to haul her to her feet. She couldn’t even see Leela’s head for all the worried people peering at her. Suddenly, someone gasped, “She is messed up ! Look at her eye!” She’d fought back a wave of panic before she understood the message behind the horror.

   “She’s only got one eye!” A rush of sympathetic mortification washed over her as the anonymous chatter began flying.

   “What on earth is it?”

   “No, keep the children back!”

   “Some sort of monster-”

   “-freak-”

   “-weird thing-”

   “-one eye.”

   “-one eye?”

   “-one eye!”

   Amy instantly repented of every unkind word she’d ever sent in Leela’s direction. “Get the hell away from her if you’re not going to help!” she snarled, shoving bigots out of the way. Some of the crowd began to take their thoughtless gossip elsewhere; others turned their attention to the attractive, enraged Asian who had lapsed into Cantonese curses.

   “What, are you a friend of that-”

   “Her name is Leela, you a-”

   “Ow.” Amy spun in a circle and eight hands reached out to keep her from falling again at the breathy, patently anti-climactic sound. She didn't even sound human.

   “Leela?!” Amy shrilled, elbowing an idiot out of the way so she could finally see what had happened. Blood, was her first thought and it sent her into a spiral of recrimination.

   “Whoah, dudette,” THFS murmured to her, “You better sit down before you fall down. I got this covered.” He gestured toward the benches. Amy continued to stare at the streaks of blood covering Leela’s face. Her eye was half-lidded and already beginning to swell. ‘She’s gonna be purple and lumpy for days,’ Amy thought in her distress.

   “’my,” Leela slurred her name, “Amy, I’m fine. I just need to sit down.” The intern noted that there was no way Leela could get more sat down, but she didn't say anything. THFS was supporting the cyclops with one arm as he dug through a first aid kit.

It was only then that Amy realized that he worked at the rink. A few feet away, two more rink guards were watching anxiously, one holding a bulky two-way radio and the other trying to clear the scene. Totally Hot Fantastic Stud was proving to be very good in a crisis, and Amy filed away that thought for further consideration later.

   More employees of the rink rushed onto the ice, sliding with practiced ease even with the heavy medical equipment they were carrying. “I’m alrigh-” Leela slurred, clutching her head in obvious pain. She began trying to get up, but was quickly forced back to her sitting position.

Amy moved forward to help, but was lost as to what exactly she should do. She noticed that someone was awkwardly trying to unlace her deactivated skates and instantly took over the task, glad for some way to help. Amy’s fumbling had little to do with her klutziness and everything to do with the adrenalin pumping through her blood.

Leela’s skin had taken on a distinctively grey tone and she wasn’t talking nearly enough for Amy’s liking. The observant woman had not missed the concerned glances flying back and forth where Leela couldn’t see.

   After what seemed like an hour, she managed to work the large skates off Leela’s feet. They looked terribly cold on the ice, even with the hideous thick plaid socks she was wearing.

“Boots,” Amy told them, “I’ll get the boots!” before sliding wildly though the crowds to where they’d left their gear. After a quick debate, Amy kicked off her own skates and slid into her shoes, grateful that she’d worn rather grippy flats that evening. The ice was rough from the skates and surprisingly easy to walk on. She grabbed the boots and cut straight through the crowd, heedless of the wild maneuvers she was causing.

   When Amy returned, she was startled to find Leela being escorted off the ice, walking mostly under her own power. “I have your boots,” she said quickly, rushing beside them. For a second, Leela peered at Amy through the narrow slit her eye had become, as if she’d didn’t quite understand. Then she smiled with an incomprehensible affection for the clunky footwear and tried to take them.

   “Just wait, wait now, ‘til we’re off the ice.” One of the medical equipment guys said firmly. Amy nodded quickly, and clutched the boots to her chest. With the blood wiped off her face, Amy could see the scratches that had caused them. Leela had evidently slid a foot or two when she’d fallen. The eye would be black for sure, but it was globviously still working. It was the head injury now, that was scaring Amy, but Leela’s colour had improved and the skate guards no longer looked so worried.

   “Ma’am?” Totally Hot Charming Bedside Manner Stud called to Leela. “Ma’am, I need you to give these awesome rockers behind me permission to give you a shot of the Anti-Concussion stuff. It’ll make your brain feel totally hearty, and I promise it won’t hurt nearly as much as the brash crash did.”

   Leela nodded her permission silently, but the man patiently kept asking her to repeat what he was saying until they were satisfied she understood. The cyclops improved rapidly after the injection, wondering about her skates and expressing her dismay at the spectacular way she’d humiliated herself. Politely, most of the employees excused themselves to file a coniferous forest worth of incident reports. Amy would have protested Leela’s claims of embarrassment, but Bedside Manner Stud beat her to it.

   “Oh, man, you have totally no idea about humiliation, babe!” He grew suddenly less boisterous, “R.S. is a radical, but dangerous sport, accidents are bound to happen.” He laughed suddenly, “and you really are a punktacular skater compared to most. Just yesterday he had this one red-headed spudman, and he was hopeless.” BMS nodded and grinned crookedly at them. “I mean, really, “Little Dude was cruising all over the place, crashing and falling, didn’t know the first thing about R.S. Wouldn’t give up though, said he had to make a miracle for his chickita.” Amy glanced nervously at Leela, who looked like she’d been slapped in the face by Gamera, both literally and metaphorically.

   “Did you catch his name?” Leela whispered.

   BMS man shrugged, “Even if I did, I’m too much of a gentledude to tell you, sorry. Nice kid, though. I figured he’d be here tonight actually, but I haven’t seen him. Bet he woke up with one ripping hydrogen ignited R.S. hangover though.” Leela choked quietly as Beside Manner Stud laughed again. “Poor guy, we didn’t even have to clean the ice, ‘cause he did it for us.” Amy smiled back at him, or rather, she bared her teeth in a hideous parody of a smile, really desperately wanting him to stop shoving the truth in their faces like a British nanny of steroids.

   “So, um, is it all right if I just get her home then? Or should we maybe go to a hospital?”

   “She’s seems to be alright now, so you can take her home, but it that headache gets worse, or if she nauseous or disoriented later then she oughta get that checked.”

   “She,” came a nearly audible growl from the multihued cyclops, “would like to keep skating, if it’s all the same to them.

   “Shmeesh, Leela, you’ve got to be crazy.” Amy began, but Leela cut her off in a manner so quietly threatening that it briefly took the cute out of Amy’s ‘do. Even Totally Hot Charming Bedside Manner Stud seemed to lose some of his masculine charm. He quickly spotted another dude in distress and excused himself for his next heroic mission.

   “I’m skating, Amy, and I’m going to love it more than Bender loves stealing.” There was nothing weak or disoriented about that declaration, so Amy wordlessly pulled out her skates.

   True to her word, Leela skated until last minute of the skate, fearlessly speeding around the area, exploring and experimenting with the power of the skates. The intensity of it frightened Amy, and she didn’t really understand why going home after a head injury was so completely unacceptable. She tried really desperately not to look worried as she watched the beauteous ferocity of Turanga Leela finding magic, surrounded by the unkind whispers of the world.
   
-----------------------------------------
Okay, okay so I lapsed into the poetic side a bit at the end. Happens sometimes. This isn't really where I meant to end it actually, but it certainly could be the ending.

[Reply #255 on:]

No! More! I demand Leela/Fry interaction! Remember the envelope of spiders? That threat still stands!

[Reply #256 on:]

It's glorious, but I must agree with Venus. I demand a prologue... oh wait. An epilogue. Yes! That!

Edit: I felt bad for not saying anything else. I loved the stud's new adjective-y name, and how Leela found out Fry did it for her, and how she reacted to it, and Amy's comments!

[Reply #257 on:]

Yay!!! Magic!!! But I also demand an epilogue!!! ...Please?

[Reply #258 on:]

 

Originally posted by Layla50:
“She,” came a nearly audible growl from the multihued cyclops, “would like to keep skating, if it’s all the same to them.

Our Leela - the irresistable force of nature.

We need closure!  Does Leela let Fry know that she no longer thinks that he has a drinking problem?  Does she let him know that she enjoyed the night's skating to the maximum of enjoyment?

I (and by extension, everybody else) NEED TO KNOW!

[Reply #259 on:]

You did it again Layla. 

That was really good. But you should really add something to the end. We really need to see how Leela thanks Fry for the tickets.

It's hell here today (work) so I won't write much.

Keep it up!

Btw, Venus you’re mean! Spiders sent by mail… don’t want to think about it.   

 

[Reply #260 on:]

We decided the spiders would die on a trip to Canada, NIC, though an envelope full of dead spiders isn’t really a welcome Floridian souvenir either.  ...Unless they were in a snow globe; I’m sure Disney could pull that off.

Tangents aside, in my opinion, no epilogue.

Subtle Ship > Outward Ship.

*Is killed by everyone*

But that’s just the bitter comedy writer’s opinion; stay true to your better fans, Layls. That said, the fact that I don’t require further closure says volumes as to how well I think you handled the emotion in this part.  Also, I love the word “Wikipedic!” and may use it in random conversations in the coming week.  Great job.

[Reply #261 on:]

Hey Jberges I know that.

1-Since spiders are cannibals, they would eat each others.

2-Our Canadian weather would surely kill fragile Floridians spiders.

But your right, opening an envelope full of dead spiders wouldn’t be a good thing.


But still, check your mail Layla! If it’s moving, don’t open it! 

[Reply #262 on:]

Venus, if I get dead spiders in the mail, you're getting jellyfish.

[Reply #263 on:]

<*Gags*>

Note to self: Do not read this thread while eating... 
Yeccha.

<Mutters to self>
I will not use the barfing smiley.
I will not use the barfing smiley.
I will not use the barfing smiley.

[Reply #264 on:]

Hate to interrupt, but now that I can post I just wanna thank Layla for her awesome fics - from 'Fry's Choice' to her most recent 'Opening Eye' (I will endure the wrath of JBERGES and ask for an epilogue also), keeping me entertained in my pokey little student bedroom on the evenings when I have the nerve to not go get pissed.

To Arkan: Greetings fellow Poppler!

 

My happy dance has always been up up down down left right left right B A Start

Also my fave Ataris' song!

[Reply #265 on:]

 

Originally posted by *leo*:
Also my fave Ataris' song!

    No, that's from Contra on the NES from Konami. The Atari did not have a A,B & start button. I know, I still have mine.(And still play with it from time to time  )

Btw, Welcome to Peel Leo!

[Reply #266 on:]

NIC:  A band called "The Ataris" wrote a song called "Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A Start."  It's kinda pop-punk, not too bad at all. 

[Reply #267 on:]

OH!!! Sorry!!! I didn’t know about it. I'm not really into music so again I'm sorry!!!
I’ll have to check it out one day. Thanks for the info Jberges.

[Reply #268 on:]

Just dropping in to say gorgeous writing, as usual, especially the description.  I can just picture the gradual, glaciers-sloughing-off-into-the-ocean feeling of her emotions.

I'm also inclined to agree with JBERGES*, that the story stands well as it is.  The last paragraph is particularly powerful in its poetic description, and forms a good conclusion.  That said, I wouldn'tobject to an epilogue either, to a) give closure and b) make it more "show-like" (which is still one of my main criteria for fanfics) in the whole "by the end of the episode, everything is back to normal" sense.

Also, have I mentioned yet that I love your Amy-writing?  I have?  How about your Leela-, Fry-, and incidental-character-writing?  Rocket-skater guy (whatever his proper name is) in particular is just as endearingly annoying as any good-hearted X-treme sports enthusiast could be expected to be.

To sum up: great work, but if I had to choose between an epilogue to this and an ending to Fry's Choice, I'd ask for Fry's Choice every time.

*which reminds me, I really ought to go drop a line in his thread.  Meh, too lazy.  It's a series of good reads though, you newbies especially should go check it out.

[Reply #269 on:]

Greetings to you too Leo!

 

Originally posted by Nerd-o-rama:
*It's a series of good reads though, you newbies especially should go check it out.

Way ahead of ya!

[Reply #270 on:]

 

Originally posted by Nerd-o-rama:

To sum up: great work, but if I had to choose between an epilogue to this and an ending to Fry's Choice, I'd ask for Fry's Choice every time.

You and me both, brother.

And now let me share with you the 5 stages of grief that I went through a few weeks ago after realizing that the conclusion to Fry's choice hadn't been posted yet...

1. Denial: So what if it's been a couple of weeks since Layla posted her last update to Fry's choice?  I'm sure it'll be up tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow.  If not then surely by the end of the week.  Yeah.

2. Anger: How could Layla do this to me?  How could she entice me with the narrative equivalent of crack cocaine and then just take it away? <quiet sobbing>

3. Bargaining: Dear God, it's me, Boltzmann_Fan.  If you help Layla post the conclusion to Fry's choice, I promise I'll be nice to at least three people today.  That not enough?  Make it four people...

4. Depression: Oh I don't care if Layla ever posts the conclusion to Fry's choice.  I'm never reading Futurama fan fiction ever again.  In fact I'm giving up on the whole reading thing in general. <prolonged bawling>.

5. Acceptance: Ok, so if Layla's spending this much time on the ending to Fry's Choice, it's gonna be one doozy of an ending!  Greatness takes time.

Anyway Layla, I'm sure that when you post the conclusion, it'll be as outstanding as the rest of the story has been.  No pressure, though  .  And the short stories in the meantime have been great by the way. 

[Reply #271 on:]

 

Originally posted by Nerd-o-rama:
I'm also inclined to agree with JBERGES*, that the story stands well as it is.  The last paragraph is particularly powerful in its poetic description, and forms a good conclusion.

To sum up: great work, but if I had to choose between an epilogue to this and an ending to Fry's Choice, I'd ask for Fry's Choice every time.

I have to agree with Nerd-o-r on all these points. The ending works fine imo and I really want to see the conclusion of Fry's Choice  Still it is your choice, it isn't my muse working here after all (especially since I don't have one!)

[Reply #272 on:]

 Here we go with replies from the last part!

say what now: Yay! Somebody loves me! Take that scary earwigs! Glad you liked the silliness, and the groping and the sad cuteness! Especially glad you liked the muscle weirdness. I like it when I wrote it, then when I was posting it I decided I was completely insane. The drinking problem thing came out of left field as I was writing it. (You wouldn't believe how often I'm surprised by the turns my writing takes. It's probably a bad sign.) What would this thread be without your enthusiasm and kindness? Much shorter! Je t'aime encore aussi!     

Spacedal: Yay! Picture! I love it, of course! It remains the coolest thing ever that people have drawn pictures and put a lot of thought into Fry's Choice. It's also vaguely terrifying. I'm certainly still working on FC. So glad you enjoy my writing!

Nic: Premièrment, je suis tellement desolée pour prendre trop longtemps pour répondre à ton couriel. Ta famille est magnifique. Merci bien pour les photos. Je vais vous répondre bientôt! I just keep people waiting all the time, don't I? Your patience will be rewarded however.

Dr.Thunder: Even if it doesn't matter, I'd love it if you told me. I will be editing this for posting somewhere. FF.net maybe. I am honoured by your interest and support.

Nerd-o-rama: You adorable geek, you! All those childhood memories of watching my brother. Glad you like the shipedy and glad to see you around!

   

I have to say, you're not very good at closure though, are you.

Let me get back to you on that.     

Indigo Plateau: Pretty name! You're welcome. Heh, it seems funny to me that you would say thanks when it's readers like you that give me the inspiration to indulge his hobby. I guess what I'm saying is, thanks!

Shippy Mandy: I did warn about the Fry pain. Heh, I'm gonna have to write that epilogue, I think. I have a certain fondness for CSM as well.

Venus:Always with the threats! Clearly everyone who reads this thread can understand why an easygoing soul like myself can be so easily enslaved to you will.

On a side note, you are hilariously cute when you spin around and fall down.

Bergenator:Those three are single-handedly responsible for the missplld words of childrn vrywhr. Greedy E gobblers! Shipedy is my new favorite word! Beyond glad that CSM doesn't seem to b annoying anyone one... that matters.      Anyhoo, I need you around, so don't you dare go away! Your thoughtful comments about the false accusation thing have opened up a can of worms, which I will address in some fashion in the epilogue. If it's any comfort, I'm on your side about where the ending should be.

Everyone go show the love to Bergey! Without him we would be drowning in shippy, gooey, chewy, chocolatey, fanfics that don't even resemble Futuramaverse. If you miss the show, that's what you should be reading, let me tell you.

And here we go with replies to the lastest part!

First off, the majority has spoken and I will write the epilogue, but in deference to all of you looking forward to the ending of Fry's Choice, I'll switch my attention back to that again.

Ol'coot: Huzzah, you're still around. I figured you were one of the people who gave up on me, not that I blame 'em.

I'll spend tonight trying to make progress on FC, still can't guarantee when it'll be out. I'll let you know when I've thrown it to poor terrified J- "It's how long now?!" BERGES so that you guys can turn on him like ravenous wolves. I'm sure he won't mind at all.   

Boltzmann_Fan: (much laughter!) Too funny! I'm sorry I've put you through all that trauma and I'm glad you've some to acceptance. If it helps you understand why it's taking so long, the ending is 15000 words long now and there are many scenes yet to be written. Thanks ever so much for the support!

Arkan: Welcome! Apparently I have not lost my eerie superpower of drawing in new people. I will blink and grant your wish... eventually.

Nerd-o-rama:Speaking of awesome descriptions, I quite enjoyed yours! You helped make up my mind about doing an epilogue, but you also made up my mind about returning to Fry's Choice. Amy's fun to write for, but difficult. I'm never quite sure where the line between ditziness and engineering student should be. You spoil me, dear, but I'm not complaining. Why does it not surprise me that there would be some lingering resentment to annoying jocks on a Futurama board?

Nic: Spring forth, burly protecter and save me from the spiders of Florida! How do you know Leela's going to thank Fry at all?   

Leo: Come right in, set a spell! Welcome! You are entirely welcome for the fanfic, and thank you for the support! Always delighted to have an audience. Clearly you've never had a conversation with Bergey if you think he's someone to be feared. I suppose he could pun you to death...

Spacecase: Oh, trust me, she had it coming. Stay strong, er... sister?

JBERGES: There is no end to the terifying marketing power of Disney. Feel free to skip over the epilogue. For you, it need not exist. On the other hand, you of all people should have a little faith in my ability to smother my naturally shippy instincts. I always think of your writing when I'm trying desperately to come up with a futuristic exclaimation, oh highly valued writer guy.

Ralph: Heehee, thought you might enjoy that line, bud. I'd answer your questions, but I haven't decided yet, so we'll both just have to wait and see.

saywhatnow: Thanks sweetie! Love, love, gush, gush for all your support and general awesomeness. I'm glad you like stud guy's ever changing nicknames, as I wondered if it wasn't crossing the line into genuinely irritating.

Venus: You, and Bergey, disagreeing?! AIEEE! Now what do I do? Well, seeing as how I am terrified of spiders, and you typed up the present of joy for me, I suppose I can further disrespect JBERGES.
 

[Reply #273 on:]

 

Originally posted by Competent Writer Woman, AKA Layla50:
"Wikipedic!"

I love you.

Another great chapter. But yeah, Fry and Leela need to interact more, or I will attack you with a plastic Halloween scythe.

[Reply #274 on:]

Spiders from one, plastic Halloween scythe from the other... When will the Layla bashing end???

Look girls (and guys) can we wait until she finish to write her fic before you brutally beat her to a pulp with some every day's life object or animal. I would like to know how her story end!

After, “IF” were not satisfied with the ending, we could take turns and use our favorite "thing" to horribly show how we "liked" her story.   

Now on a serious note:
Can't wait for the Ending of Fry's choice Layla. You started that thing almost a year ago and now you're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm sure that it will be great like everything you write. 

[Reply #275 on:]

Any of you sending Layla arachnids or bludgeoning her with farm implements will have to answer to me.  That's simply ungentlemanly/-ladylike.

As soon as you tell me where you live and someone buys me plane tickets.

[Reply #276 on:]

 

Originally posted by Layla50:
Venus, if I get dead spiders in the mail, you're getting jellyfish.

Pffft. Florida jellyfish totally pwn Canadian jellyfish.

[Reply #277 on:]

 

Originally posted by Layla50:
Ralph: Heehee, thought you might enjoy that line, bud. I'd answer your questions, but I haven't decided yet, so we'll both just have to wait and see.

Layla, you had a LOT of lines that tickled my funny bone and made me laugh out loud:  Wikipedic - used as an exclamation - very original.  Amy's sudden guilt about being so haughty about Leela's appearance (the cracks about a good haircut, decent makeup and 'lose the unibrow') when Leela lay injured on the ice - others gawking at her single eye; Amy getting so angry at people calling Leela a freak shows that Our Favorite Martian does have some redeming characteristics.

At the end, Leela shows that she is indeed tough - physical injuries and cutting taunts from the crowd were not sufficient to slow the irristible force known as Turanga Leela.

[Reply #278 on:]

Thanks, Layla. It's nice to feel so welcome.
Now hurry up and write the end of Fry's Choice!!! 

[Reply #279 on:]

Can I poke her with a stick with a marshmallow on the end?