Countdown from thirty-eight

[Reply #40 on:]

     Silvitch adjusted his night glasses.  ‘Two on the roof and two on each side and in constant communication with each other.  Heavily armed.  Ok, we have to take the two on the roof first.  Hmm, go up west side and wait for the moment.  Ok that’s doable.’  He was on the roof crouching in a shadow in less than forty seconds not even breathing somewhat heavily.  Within one minute both sentries were down.  During that half minute or so, he listened to their inane chatter.  He slipped the headset on and asked, “How much god-damn longer before mo-fu relief arrives, damn it?”  There were eight laughs and eight differing opinions.  It was the last thing they ever talked about.  
     He was surprised.  The old school had better locks than he anticipated.  Still it took less than one minute to by pass the electronic locking system.  He looked at the neat, tidy and military rows of sleeping soldiers.  The captain slept by himself near the doors and was the first to receive a knife slash across his throat.  Everyone else met the same fate and Silvitch went to the gym where expected to find the stored equipment.  He carefully turned all the rockets inward and sat ten gallon jerry cans of  pentaxt rocket fuel in front of each.  He counted the number of rockets and decided for the fun of it to play it close.  He set the first one to fire five minutes from now and went on down the line subtracting ten seconds from each.  He had a half a minute to exit when he programmed the last rocket and he calmly walked out and locked the door.  The building went up in flames with a series of explosions ten seconds later.  ‘That almost should do it.’
     Silvitch slowly walked down the street under the relative darkness of the trees of heaven.  ‘Heaven?  What a joke.’  He stopped once and turned and watched the glow in the sky slightly dimming.  ‘Trees of hell at that school.  Too bad classes weren’t in session.’
     Sammy’s Bar, the ancient neon sign said.  Where the elite meet to eat.  He smiled and said, ‘Duffy ain’t here.  Duffy ran into a hand made noose of 20lb test.’  He laughed and laughed.  ‘What a card!’  His laughing smile turned ugly—his natural state--into a frown—more often than not.  That friggin’ Duffy Andy promised me I’d get help.  That he’d help me.  The very best doctors and beautiful, caring and competent nurses.  They’d all work hard and tirelessly to help me.  That I’d by happy.  That I’d forget about my mom and Smythe!  Friggin’ liar’   Should have killed him years ago.  But I had to wait for the voice saying it was time.  Hell yes, I got plenty of time.  I only regret I didn’t torture him the way he tortured me, the somabitch!!’
     Sammy’s was practically empty except for the tall prostitute with an empty glass in front of her.  There were four guys in the back shooting some 9-ball and a couple drunks with their faces glued to the tables from now dried beer.  They wouldn’t smell any worse than when they came in eight hours ago.  Silvitch looked at the prostitute.  He yelled and swore at her on his inside.  ‘why the fudge didn’t you send mom back where she belonged you ugly bitchy?”  On the outside he smiled and asked if she wanted to share a slurms black butt porter pint.  
     Christie said, “This is the nicest offer I’ve had all night.  You maybe got another one for me:  good rates for a quickie and a special for an all-nighter just for you?”
     He fingered a strand of her soft blonde hair.  “This natural?”
 “Honey, I’m one hunerd, ten per-centage points natural.”      
“Ok, how much is the special then?”
     Christie looked scared suddenly, go high and pray, go realistically and to the bank in the morning.  For you sweetheart: only 500gold but just ask anybody, they’ll tell you it will be worth every penny.”
     “Anybody, huh?  That includes any special surcharges for extras, if you know what I mean?”
     “For you, sailor: no surcharge and all special favors are on the house but nothing that causes me to bleed.”
     “Andy busted a gut.  Hey, sweetheart.  I’m a bleeding gentleman, you know; you are definitely a bleeding lady?”
     “I could tell when you walked in. Eight fifty up front; you get a refund from George there when you come back with me.  You know, girl deposit.  She winked at him.”
     “And some girl at that.  So you get a cut on your on your big toe or big tit and I’m out three hundred huh?”
    “ I get a cut on my toe; unless it requires stitches, we’re going to call that a freebie.  My tit gets cut.  There’s another five hundred for hospital costs and making sure that George doesn’t break your knee caps and slice you penis off.  You don’t wanta peee off Georgie very much.”
     “Ok, good idea.  Drink one swallow and pour the rest down your tits.”
     “Oh, Sweetie, that’s a waste of a good black butt, butt; tee hee—you’re the boss.  You sure, you don’t want to pour?  Make sure you get it where you want it.”
     “Cantaloupes those size, you couldn’t possibly miss.”
     “My place or yours?  Crap!  That was cold.  Now I know what warm beer is good for.”
     “Let’s go to mine.  I got a tent in the woods where no one will bother us.”
     “Goodie.  I’m gonna make you happy.  You hungry, you want something ‘fore we start?”
     “You certainly shall.  Nah, I’m good, But I might have something to bite on back at camp.  You want something now before we go—last meal?”
     “Ooh: depressing thought, but I know what you mean.  Six pack and a pizza?”
     “Mighty poor last meal, but sure.”
     “Take it with us or eat it here?”
     “I thought kinda you might share it with me here, you know?”
     “Aww, Sweetheart.  I don’t wanna spoil my appetite.  You go right ahead.  I’m going to check on my   truck and make sure the crap is out of the front seat.  Get whatever, have George of the Jungle put it on our growing tab.  Be right back.”
*****
     Silvitch looked at a few coils of rope he had in his bed; hefted them.  He pulled his pack out of the cab and kicked the empty cans and bags and magazines onto the cracked and weedy surface of the parking lot and threw the pack next to the ropes.  He opened it and fingered several knives and saws.  He tossed a little red rubber ball up in the air holding onto the bandana gag and then said, ‘Nah.  Let her scream.  Maybe it’ll give her hope and add one more minute of life to torture.  Ain’t no one going to hear and no way in hell is someone going to care.’
     “Truck’s awaiting you royal highness’ presence and butt on the royal seat.  You almost done?  Bring the stuff you want to finish.  I’m getting hungry.”
      “Mmmmmpkay”
*****
      He started his old pickup sled on one turn and only a little nitro cloud plumed out the short manifold pipes but with an ungodly roar.
     “Whoa.  This here is one piece of mean machinery and your truck looks rough too!”
     Spider smiled wickedly and barely spoke, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!!”
     He stuck his right hand between her legs.  In a moment she unzipped the jeans and ripped her panties and pulled his hand over to her.  The little mole burrowed into a warm dark spot and lay easy for the first time in hours.
     Spider’s Silverado threw gravel all over the parking lot and chirped when the old rockets really started sucking the humid and uncomfortably hot air.  Two minutes later, a metallic gray old 300SL pulled gently out.  So finely tuned and running perfectly that you could barely hear except for the turbo-moved gravel.  The ancient and beautifully-adapted Mercedes turned the same way with no lights on.
     Much to the future well-being of the young whore.  Spider turned his lights off too and in the first dip the road following a sharp right hand curve, the old Chevy rocket powered pickup sled turned sharply, it’s air stream throwing gravel, small branches and ground squirrels.  It easily and ungodly fast slipped under a fallen tree and expertly shut down and landed with a slight gravity-induced bump.  The 300SL swung by moments later with Burkhart scanning the woods with night goggles.  He never saw Silvitch open the door which activated only darkness punctuated with moon light and shadows and the beautiful but hard face of Christie and he held out his hand for the chemically induced blonde.  He would be very sad to learn that shortly.
     She thought the rape was part of the 500.  A little rough—in fact the roughest of any--except her uncle--who had ever been with her—but all in all, not all that bad either.  Certainly not as bad as her uncle whom she cut his throat when he passed out three hours later, he still being in her.  She cut that off too.  So long ago, she had forgotten it except for daily nightmares.  It wasn’t until he pulled out of his kit a fourteen inch chef’s knife, a hacksawish looking bone cutter and a sweet little bone knife—thin and flexible with German steel and an elk antler handle--that she started worrying about Silvitch’s mental state.  She wondered why on earth would he--anyone normal or still horny-- want to sharpen those ridiculous knives when she was still available.  Maybe it was because he had all night and he was pacing himself.  Ok, that’s smart and a good sign: Ability to Delay Gratification.  Ten minutes later she knew the very ugly truth and prayed it wasn’t so.  No one besides Silvitch ever heard her screams and all it did to him was enable his only way he could truly ejaculate.  Too bad though about the deposit. Still one less whore in this wicked, evil, fudgedup world.  He wished his daily wish for the umpteenth time:  he wished his mom had come home that night.  Despite her boy friends, and occasional girl friend, who beat him up and abused him; someone was better than nobody.  A lot better.
*****
     Amy met Mr. Burkhart in the lounge.  “Whatever happened to that nice retired Major Anderson?”
      “I think he permanently retired.  I assumed he hit on you; he could be charming as hell.  Please let me assure you, you did not miss anything.  Just ask his poor suffering wife whom he beats up weekly.”
     “Oh.”
     “Is Mr. Fry back?”
     “They decided to stay at my parents on Mars for a couple of days.”
     Fry and the girl?”
     Fry and two women.”
     “Excuse me.  Fry and the woman he loves plus one other woman?”
     “Fry and the two women he loves.  Try back around four thirty or tomorrow morning.”
     “And the young beautiful woman loves him in return?”
     “Both”
     “Hmm, tell me, do all women fall in love with Mr. Fry.”
     “I did once.  It didn’t last that long but I still remember him very fondly.”
    “Lucky man.  Thank you Ms. Wong.  You’ve been most kind and helpful.”
     “You’re welcome.  Mr. Burkhart, just out of curiosity, are you married?”
     “Happily yes, to the most lovely woman with the probable exception of yourself.  Good afternoon.
*****
     “Would you like to show you how to land this ship?”
     “Leela!  You’re not becoming suicidal again are you?”
     Leela laughed.  Actually Susan, it’s not as hard as you think it is but my hand will be inches from yours.  And I would not do anything to hurt Fry again.  We’re all safe.
     “Wow!  Of course.  Is the space pope crazy?”  ‘I wish she would have included her baby in that invocation. If she mentioned it to me; maybe we could talk about it.  So, why don’t you bring up the elephant.  Leela,  the baby will be safe too, won’t it.  I wonder if she knows what sex it is; if they have named it or given it some possibilities.  Hell, have they determined where they want it to get a bachelors, a masters, and a doctorate, residency and fellowship and post doc.  How about pre-school?  I’ll bet they didn’t even think—thank god—about preschool.  Oh hell, Leela, talk to me.  Fry can’t.’
     ‘Look, if you’re as worried as you look, there is no need.  I thought it might be fun.”
     “It’ll be something I’ve always wanted to do.  Sorry.  So many things have happened, I’m just trying to absorb some of them.”
     “I know what you mean.  Especially our common lover!  “Ok sit between my legs.  Don’t worry, I’m not going to cop a feel.  Watch the slow-speed read out.  When it gets to 90km/hr pull back here to set your flaps-maybe two inches-and your speed should drop to about 75km/hr.  Good.  Good.  Ok she’ll do a good job of gliding now.  Do you see the building maybe a half mile a way that has a tower and two red lights on either side.  They’re going to start flashing any…Now.  Keep heading for those two lights and drop to 300ft elev.  When the blue flashing light comes on start pushing down sharply on your rudder and move your throttle back a little, your speed should drop to about 45km/hr and we should drop to under 100ft.  Still see the blue light?  
     “Yes, it’s still blinking.
     Good.  Slow back down to about ten.  Your blue light is going to go …There: solid.  Do you feel the ship barely climbing.  Pull back the throttle most of the way back but not all the way.  Your speed will read negative something.  Don’t worry about it unless you see about seven red flashing lights and warning klaxons  erupting.  You are doing perfectly.  See the center read out currently at 90/0 80/0 75/0… The slash 0 means you directly over your landing pad.   When you hit 10/0 push the throttle just a little forward.  Perfect.  Pull back all the way and hit the switch that says KILL.  Perfect landing, Captain. That was so much better than my first time and I remember shaking like an aspen in the mountains—and no I’m not talking about losing my virginity.  I would be proud to fly with you again real soon.  Next time we’ll try taking off.  Easiest thing other than setting the auto pilot if there is little traffic.  They hugged each other.  “Friend-for-ever?”
    “Oh Leela.  That makes me feel so good.  Yes, of course…friend-for-ever.  And that gives me hope on many levels.  Leela…”
     “I’m here for you too, not only Fry.  Yes, I’d love to talk to you.  Here or do you want to get a drink?”
     “Yes, I need a really stiff one: one or two doubles.  You pick.  Walk or taxi?”
     I’d like to apologize to Sam.  Lets walk to O’Zorgnax’s, it’s not far and it’s still a nice day.  I’ll introduce you to a really nice guy and we’ll get our drink and talk.  You’re always asking me to do that, aren’t you?
     “Beats hitting my head against a brick wall, but not by much.”  They both laughed.  They unbuckled their harnesses and Suzy held her hand out for the rising Leela.  Leela had given Suzy a  boost with her hand on the butt.  Suzy had to admit, it did feel good.  She wondered and then violently shook her head.  They skipped out of the hanger holding hands, to the amused amazement of Hermes watching, and onto the sidewalk.  Suzy glanced around but she didn’t see anybody.
*****

[Reply #41 on:]

[Happy Father's Day in less than three months, Fry--you are going to love it like I do and something that Leela and Suzy shall never do as well, their awesome combined competence notwithstanding.]

     Silvitch adjusted his night glasses.  ‘Two on the roof and two on each side and in constant communication with each other.  Heavily armed.  Ok, we have to take the two on the roof first.  Hmm, go up west side and wait for the moment.  Ok that’s doable.’  He was on the roof crouching in a shadow in less than forty seconds not even breathing somewhat heavily.  Within one minute both sentries were down.  During that half minute or so, he listened to their inane chatter.  He slipped the headset on and asked, “How much god-damn longer before mo-fu relief arrives, damn it?”  There were eight laughs and eight differing opinions.  It was the last thing they ever talked about. 
     He was surprised.  The old school had better locks than he anticipated.  Still it took less than one minute to by pass the electronic locking system.  He looked at the neat, tidy and military rows of sleeping soldiers.  The captain slept by himself near the doors and was the first to receive a knife slash across his throat.  Everyone else met the same fate and Silvitch went to the gym where expected to find the stored equipment.  He carefully turned all the rockets inward and sat ten gallon jerry cans of  pentaxt rocket fuel in front of each.  He counted the number of rockets and decided for the fun of it to play it close.  He set the first one to fire five minutes from now and went on down the line subtracting ten seconds from each.  He had a half a minute to exit when he programmed the last rocket and he calmly walked out and locked the door.  The building went up in flames with a series of explosions ten seconds later.  ‘That almost should do it.’
     Silvitch slowly walked down the street under the relative darkness of the trees of heaven.  ‘Heaven?  What a joke.’  He stopped once and turned and watched the glow in the sky slightly dimming.  ‘Trees of hell at that school.  Too bad classes weren’t in session.’
     Sammy’s Bar, the ancient neon sign said.  Where the elite meet to eat.  He smiled and said, ‘Duffy ain’t here.  Duffy ran into a hand made noose of 20lb test.’  He laughed and laughed.  ‘What a card!’  His laughing smile turned ugly—his natural state--into a frown—more often than not.  That friggin’ Duffy Andy promised me I’d get help.  That he’d help me.  The very best doctors and beautiful, caring and competent nurses.  They’d all work hard and tirelessly to help me.  That I’d by happy.  That I’d forget about my mom and Smythe!  Friggin’ liar’   Should have killed him years ago.  But I had to wait for the voice saying it was time.  Hell yes, I got plenty of time.  I only regret I didn’t torture him the way he tortured me, the somabitch!!’
     Sammy’s was practically empty except for the tall prostitute with an empty glass in front of her.  There were four guys in the back shooting some 9-ball and a couple drunks with their faces glued to the tables from now dried beer.  They wouldn’t smell any worse than when they came in eight hours ago.  Silvitch looked at the prostitute.  He yelled and swore at her on his inside.  ‘why the fudge didn’t you send mom back where she belonged you ugly bitchy?”  On the outside he smiled and asked if she wanted to share a slurms black butt porter pint. 
     Christie said, “This is the nicest offer I’ve had all night.  You maybe got another one for me:  good rates for a quickie and a special for an all-nighter just for you?”
     He fingered a strand of her soft blonde hair.  “This natural?”
 “Honey, I’m one hunerd, ten per-centage points natural.”       
“Ok, how much is the special then?”
     Christie looked scared suddenly, go high and pray, go realistically and to the bank in the morning.  For you sweetheart: only 500gold but just ask anybody, they’ll tell you it will be worth every penny.”
     “Anybody, huh?  That includes any special surcharges for extras, if you know what I mean?”
     “For you, sailor: no surcharge and all special favors are on the house but nothing that causes me to bleed.”
     “Andy busted a gut.  Hey, sweetheart.  I’m a bleeding gentleman, you know; you are definitely a bleeding lady?”
     “I could tell when you walked in. Eight fifty up front; you get a refund from George there when you come back with me.  You know, girl deposit.  She winked at him.”
     “And some girl at that.  So you get a cut on your on your big toe or big tit and I’m out three hundred huh?”
    “ I get a cut on my toe; unless it requires stitches, we’re going to call that a freebie.  My tit gets cut.  There’s another five hundred for hospital costs and making sure that George doesn’t break your knee caps and slice you penis off.  You don’t wanta peee off Georgie very much.”
     “Ok, good idea.  Drink one swallow and pour the rest down your tits.”
     “Oh, Sweetie, that’s a waste of a good black butt, butt; tee hee—you’re the boss.  You sure, you don’t want to pour?  Make sure you get it where you want it.”
     “Cantaloupes those size, you couldn’t possibly miss.”
     “My place or yours?  Crap!  That was cold.  Now I know what warm beer is good for.”
     “Let’s go to mine.  I got a tent in the woods where no one will bother us.”
     “Goodie.  I’m gonna make you happy.  You hungry, you want something ‘fore we start?”
     “You certainly shall.  Nah, I’m good, But I might have something to bite on back at camp.  You want something now before we go—last meal?”
     “Ooh: depressing thought, but I know what you mean.  Six pack and a pizza?”
     “Mighty poor last meal, but sure.”
     “Take it with us or eat it here?”
     “I thought kinda you might share it with me here, you know?”
     “Aww, Sweetheart.  I don’t wanna spoil my appetite.  You go right ahead.  I’m going to check on my   truck and make sure the crap is out of the front seat.  Get whatever, have George of the Jungle put it on our growing tab.  Be right back.”
*****
     Silvitch looked at a few coils of rope he had in his bed; hefted them.  He pulled his pack out of the cab and kicked the empty cans and bags and magazines onto the cracked and weedy surface of the parking lot and threw the pack next to the ropes.  He opened it and fingered several knives and saws.  He tossed a little red rubber ball up in the air holding onto the bandana gag and then said, ‘Nah.  Let her scream.  Maybe it’ll give her hope and add one more minute of life to torture.  Ain’t no one going to hear and no way in hell is someone going to care.’
     “Truck’s awaiting you royal highness’ presence and butt on the royal seat.  You almost done?  Bring the stuff you want to finish.  I’m getting hungry.”
      “Mmmmmpkay”
*****
      He started his old pickup sled on one turn and only a little nitro cloud plumed out the short manifold pipes but with an ungodly roar.
     “Whoa.  This here is one piece of mean machinery and your truck looks rough too!”
     Spider smiled wickedly and barely spoke, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!!”
     He stuck his right hand between her legs.  In a moment she unzipped the jeans and ripped her panties and pulled his hand over to her.  The little mole burrowed into a warm dark spot and lay easy for the first time in hours.
     Spider’s Silverado threw gravel all over the parking lot and chirped when the old rockets really started sucking the humid and uncomfortably hot air.  Two minutes later, a metallic gray old 300SL pulled gently out.  So finely tuned and running perfectly that you could barely hear except for the turbo-moved gravel.  The ancient and beautifully-adapted Mercedes turned the same way with no lights on.
     Much to the future well-being of the young whore.  Spider turned his lights off too and in the first dip the road following a sharp right hand curve, the old Chevy rocket powered pickup sled turned sharply, it’s air stream throwing gravel, small branches and ground squirrels.  It easily and ungodly fast slipped under a fallen tree and expertly shut down and landed with a slight gravity-induced bump.  The 300SL swung by moments later with Burkhart scanning the woods with night goggles.  He never saw Silvitch open the door which activated only darkness punctuated with moon light and shadows and the beautiful but hard face of Christie and he held out his hand for the chemically induced blonde.  He would be very sad to learn that shortly.
     She thought the rape was part of the 500.  A little rough—in fact the roughest of any--except her uncle--who had ever been with her—but all in all, not all that bad either.  Certainly not as bad as her uncle whom she cut his throat when he passed out three hours later, he still being in her.  She cut that off too.  So long ago, she had forgotten it except for daily nightmares.  It wasn’t until he pulled out of his kit a fourteen inch chef’s knife, a hacksawish looking bone cutter and a sweet little bone knife—thin and flexible with German steel and an elk antler handle--that she started worrying about Silvitch’s mental state.  She wondered why on earth would he--anyone normal or still horny-- want to sharpen those ridiculous knives when she was still available.  Maybe it was because he had all night and he was pacing himself.  Ok, that’s smart and a good sign: Ability to Delay Gratification.  Ten minutes later she knew the very ugly truth and prayed it wasn’t so.  No one besides Silvitch ever heard her screams and all it did to him was enable his only way he could truly ejaculate.  Too bad though about the deposit. Still one less whore in this wicked, evil, fudgedup world.  He wished his daily wish for the umpteenth time:  he wished his mom had come home that night.  Despite her boy friends, and occasional girl friend, who beat him up and abused him; someone was better than nobody.  A lot better.
*****
     Amy met Mr. Burkhart in the lounge.  “Whatever happened to that nice retired Major Anderson?”
      “I think he permanently retired.  I assumed he hit on you; he could be charming as hell.  Please let me assure you, you did not miss anything.  Just ask his poor suffering wife whom he beats up weekly.”
     “Oh.”
     “Is Mr. Fry back?”
     “They decided to stay at my parents on Mars for a couple of days.”
     Fry and the girl?”
     Fry and two women.”
     “Excuse me.  Fry and the woman he loves plus one other woman?”
     “Fry and the two women he loves.  Try back around four thirty or tomorrow morning.”
     “And the young beautiful woman loves him in return?”
     “Both”
     “Hmm, tell me, do all women fall in love with Mr. Fry.”
     “I did once.  It didn’t last that long but I still remember him very fondly.”
    “Lucky man.  Thank you Ms. Wong.  You’ve been most kind and helpful.”
     “You’re welcome.  Mr. Burkhart, just out of curiosity, are you married?”
     “Happily yes, to the most lovely woman with the probable exception of yourself.  Good afternoon.
*****
     “Would you like to show you how to land this ship?”
     “Leela!  You’re not become suicidal again are you?”
     Leela laughed.  Actually Susan, it’s not as hard as you think it is but my hand will be inches from yours.  And I would not do anything to hurt Fry again.  We’re all safe.
     “Wow!  Of course.  Is the space pope crazy?”  ‘I wish she would have included her baby in that invocation. If she mentioned it to me; maybe we could talk about it.  So, why don’t you bring up the elephant.  Leela,  the baby will be safe too, won’t it.  I wonder if she knows what sex it is; if they have named it or given it some possibilities.  Hell, have they determined where they want it to get a bachelors, a masters, and a doctorate, residency and fellowship and post doc.  How about pre-school?  I’ll bet they didn’t even think—thank god—about preschool.  Oh hell, Leela, talk to me.  Fry can’t.’
     ‘Look, if you’re as worried as you look, there is no need.  I thought it might be fun.”
     “It’ll be something I’ve always wanted to do.  Sorry.  So many things have happened, I’m just trying to absorb some of them.”
     “I know what you mean.  Especially our common lover!  “Ok sit between my legs.  Don’t worry, I’m not going to cop a feel.  Watch the slow-speed read out.  When it gets to 90km/hr pull back here to set your flaps-maybe two inches-and your speed should drop to about 75km/hr.  Good.  Good.  Ok she’ll do a good job of gliding now.  Do you see the building maybe a half mile a way that has a tower and two red lights on either side.  They’re going to start flashing any…Now.  Keep heading for those two lights and drop to 300ft elev.  When the blue flashing light comes on start pushing down sharply on your rudder and move your throttle back a little, your speed should drop to about 45km/hr and we should drop to under 100ft.  Still see the blue light? 
     “Yes, it’s still blinking.
     Good.  Slow back down to about ten.  Your blue light is going to go …There: solid.  Do you feel the ship barely climbing.  Pull back the throttle most of the way back but not all the way.  Your speed will read negative something.  Don’t worry about it unless you see about seven red flashing lights and warning klaxons  erupting.  You are doing perfectly.  See the center read out currently at 90/0 80/0 75/0… The slash 0 means you directly over your landing pad.   When you hit 10/0 push the throttle just a little forward.  Perfect.  Pull back all the way and hit the switch that says KILL.  Perfect landing, Captain. That was so much better than my first time and I remember shaking like an aspen in the mountains—and no I’m not talking about losing my virginity.  I would be proud to fly with you again real soon.  Next time we’ll try taking off.  Easiest thing other than setting the auto pilot if there is little traffic.  They hugged each other.  “Friend-for-ever?”
    “Oh Leela.  That makes me feel so good.  Yes, of course…friend-for-ever.  And that gives me hope on many levels.  Leela…”
     “I’m here for you too, not only Fry.  Yes, I’d love to talk to you.  Here or do you want to get a drink?”
     “Yes, I need a really stiff one: one or two doubles.  You pick.  Walk or taxi?”
     I’d like to apologize to Sam.  Lets walk to O’Zorgnax’s, it’s not far and it’s still a nice day.  I’ll introduce you to a really nice guy and we’ll get our drink and talk.  You’re always asking me to do that, aren’t you?
     “Beats hitting my head against a brick wall, but not by much.”  They both laughed.  They unbuckled their harnesses and Suzy held her hand out for the rising Leela.  Leela had given Suzy a  boost with her hand on the butt.  Suzy had to admit, it did feel good.  She wondered and then violently shook her head.  They skipped out of the hanger, to the amazement of Hermes watching, and onto the sidewalk.  Suzy glanced around but she didn’t see anybody.
*****

[Reply #42 on:]

[Goooooood mornin Futuramamamaspapas.  The afore mentioned prodigal son is in Portland for the week a long with his lovely girlfriend, Jenn (Just in case she takes a peak at this here story) and I'm about to take off and drive the 85 miles along one of the most beautiful parts of America--the Columbia Gorge--and bring them to the hinterlands for a couple of days: Calloo/ Callay!!  May effect tomorrows installment so I hope this one following the acme anvil is not a cliffhanger:  Now back to our story:

     “Mr. Conrad?
     “Great gasping foulmouth of green Falmouth: you startled me!  Ah.  Amy said you had stopped by.”
     “Oh.”
     And that dull roar you hear over the white noise of our ever-living city is the our spiffy little ship coming home to roost.  You may be interested, Mon, that our pilot, Fry’s love, was having a difficulty like she was in danger or something.
     “Did she mention danger and from what or whom?”
     “Hmm?  Uh, no.  Anyway, I successfully got her back on track and she has apparently forgotten her troubles like a lovely Jamaican with sand ‘tween her toes on a torrid beach.  She is an excellent pilot as you soon will observe as she lands my ship.”
     “Back to normal like her threat has been removed.  Did she talk to a Major Anderson recently?”
     “Andy!  Your boss.  No.  I did.  I told him two others had been asking about Fry but he wanted to for some reason.  Must not trust one or both of you, that be you, Mon?”
     “Two of us, huh?  Who was the other man, er I mean operative?”
     “Funny that you don’t know that.”
     “Oh, I do.  It’s just that I don’t know what alias he is using for this.  Forgot to tell me, you see.
    “Oh, of course.  Do you ever forget what AKA you’re using at the moment?  Could get quite confusing I’d expect, not like me and ordering a cold one—Red Stripe or rum on rox with a little lime.”
     “Confusing, yes that is the operative word, confusing.  Any way, his name?”
     “Silvitch.  Silver, Sweetheart, Spider… Something Silvitch.”
    “ Odd, that’s me.”
     “Just a minute, that’s my phone.  Hermes ran into his office and picked up an empty shotgun blaster that he had been carefully packaging before he saw he had a visitor.  It had been lying on top of his phone which he answered:  “Planet Express…Your packages are irreplaceable; our crew is not.  Hermes here.  How can I help you?” As he talked, he hefted it, aimed it, put the power unit in it, took it off safety.  He sat it back down and immediately picked it back up…?” 
     Silvitch looked over his shoulder and then slowly turned.  He opened the office door and sat down.  He stared at the blaster, he slowly moved his hand to his jacket pocket.
     “Yes.  Yes, of course.  I remember.  Yes, that’s right.  Well that’s odd, he’s ri…   What?  Well, yes.  That’s what I was going to say before you in…Hmmm”…..Really?   I find that hard…   Oh my god.  He did?  Hermes glanced at Silvitch who stood.  Hermes brought the blaster to his shoulder and Silvitch ran and threw himself through his window.  Hermes dropped the phone and with the still empty blaster in his hand, he hurried to the broken window.  There was nothing to be seen.  Not even an owl.  “What the fudging rice and red beans was that all ‘bout??  OH!”  Hermes picked up the phone, “Mr. Burkhart?  I think you should come here and bring the police, pretty damn quick.”
*****
     “It’s not far from your place.  Oh look at that jacket.  You know I still have my government issued jackets—you should see the lime green one, you’d puke!
     Suzy coughed a couple of times.  And then quickly before the subject changes, “Oh, no.  I’m sure it is perfectly fine and probably looks good on you.  Grrrr, you would look good in anything.  But, If you really want one a new one.”
     “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!  You have seen it.  I don’t remember wearing it; it’s in the ship.
Cough…
But you’ve seen me in it, alright.  …..anything…right!  …anything except that.  Maybe you’d go with me to pick out something I can wear at work and casually.  And something nice:   something for special, like you.  Oh, girlfriend!  Do you you know I’ve never had a girl friend to talk like this.  I’ve had plenty of friends who were more than willing to be catty or bitchy—not that I can’t—but no really ever to laugh with like this; I love you, Sooz!  Please don’t ever go away.  Even if you do leave me with the baby and Fry.  I would still miss you everyday—every hour.  Okey dokey?”
     “Anyway, I’ve been thinking of getting a new one.  This is really, really radical and impulsive for me.  But I never had anyone I wanted to go shopping with or be willing to listen to some honest criticism of my sometimes dubious choices.  Till you.  Go in with me?”
     “Sure, but you should be justifiably dubious of my fashion advice.”
     “Bullcrap!  Tell me another one.  Whom are you comparing yourself to?”
     “My roommate for one; models; women—clotheshorses I know; actresses: you, know: real people.
     They both broke down.
     Ok, should be fun……And this is the place to have fun in.”  “Hi, my friend is looking for a new jacket, size six, let’s try natural linen with her beautiful hair with three quarter sleeves, lots of pockets but no patch, center vent, thin lapels, lined in spider silk.  Let’s say a Valcheri or Zhebrekhevskov.  Definitely no belt and don’t you dare show us one with plastic buttons—metal or horn or something unusual only.  Fitted but buttonable and should be able to wear a cashmere sleeveless or otherwise.  And we’re going to need something for everyday and work.  I’m thinking of a sheepskin—shorn but still with about a gallon of lanolin.  Merino or cashmere lined and unshorn and nonprocessed fleece hood with same lining.  No insulation.  Wood or horn buttons.  No fleece showing at any seam except hood.  Mid-thigh or shorter.  Uh both, let’s 10 with 12 backup and don’t you dare bring a mixed size in anything unless we have it bracketed.  Um, matching fleeced belt and loops and mandatory if not a very short jacket.  Natural color of course and pick out a nice merino or whatever you have in hood in very bright red in a scarf.   Two wool blazers, one navy lamb’s wool and a natural camel skin.  One double breasted—the navy and the other center vent; narrow lapels, patch covered pockets, spider silk lining.  I’d rather they were expensive than regret they weren’t however that is not carte blanche of course.  Find two-three cashmere sweaters.  I’m thinking a minimum of two ply and of virgin wool—hand woven of course.  Two of sleeveless and two long sleeve with natural fine cuffs with at least two layer and on the diagonal—same or counterposed, and ditto of wasteband so it will look nice out say on jeans.  Please make them of different purple colors that would go with her hair.  I said it was beautiful; what do you think?”
     “Oh it is gorgeous and so cleverly tinted or dyed I would swear it was natural.  I would kill for this hair of  this color and texture.  I would suggest only to wear it flowing and in its natural long state.  I think the  pony tail looks darling—cute but I might save that for a day at the beach or soccer and suchlike.  Hmmm, I   would not suggest any additional styling perhaps take a half inch off the sides where it will fall over the ears and an inch in the back if only to remove the few split ends.  You could easily spend thousands on your hair in styling and cutting and rinses and such but it would be unnecessary unless you get tired it.  I can bring David from his Salon upstairs to give you a further opinion but I suspect the only difference      between ours will be the money you will spend with him.  I love your hair.  Very striking and chic.  It must give you and your boyfriends legion great pleasure.
     Thank you.  But let David stay up stairs with the women who need him.  We would like, for each of us, a girl to come down and give us manicures and pedicures.  If we had more time a poo and rinse would bed nice: next time.   Additionally,  bring us two scarves--a white in spider silk and a color of your choice for my friend’s coloring  but not purple of virgin cashmere.  No pattern other than the weave on either.  And  one black leather belt of good quality that is useable not only as accent but can actually hold up a pear of oversized garden jeans. Twelve carat gold on the brown, sterling on the black.  Hand tooled with the black.  Simple buckle and nothing gauche.  Do you this woman is the only county-certified starship pilot in this borough and flies regularly to places you and I only dream about:  I THINK she needs a black leather, lamb’s wool bomber with a long white spider silk scarf—what do you think?  Too gauche, too cliché?  I’m awfully glad you shook your head no.  We would have been so out of here.  Now the important part.  Get us a couple of mimosas and some brie toasts and pineapple and coconut sherbert w/ and no sauces.  And then two crème broulees with espresso immediately—no waiting a second between the last bite of coconut and the first of the broulee.  We shall be waiting here, waiting here chatting and complimenting one another—that’s your cue, damnit--anticipating your selections.  If we buy seven items, there is a nice gratuity for you beyond your obscene bonus.  If we get everything, pick out something nice for yourself.  Please don’t waste our time.  We have a dinner date in a few minutes.
     “Yes, maam.  And may I say, you’ve come to right place and it is a pleasure to serve discerning women beautiful women who know how to wear it and who know what they want.”
     “Who do you suppose she’s talking about?” Leela whispered.  Suzy swatted her a good one but stayed way away from the baby.”
       “I shall be back with your mimosas shortly and then prepare to feast your eyes on a lovely Valcheri and a Blayne that just came in from London this morning and a simply amazing Rose of Sharon from out sister state, Israel.  Please make yourselves comfortable and if you require anything before I get back, just please pick up that receiver on the teak table.  Be back in a jiff.”
     “Hard way to earn a buck and have to smile when you get those commands and NOW peasant!!”
     “Are you kidding me?  She’s loving this AND I’ll bet you anything she already had her commission spent.  And we’re nice.  Wait tils Inez comes in, she’ll earn her nickel, if she’s lucky.  10,500gold from two hundred seventy eight hand delivered try ons and don’t even think about a ‘thank you’ or ‘looks nice’  And she’ll complain to the manager and try to get her fired for now bowing more and being faster than running as fast as you can.  The Manager will  be too afraid, not to since she spends so much and she supports her boyfriend who parks sports rockets at a lounge for a living and two little kids  in preschool.  No, she likes us.  She loves us.” 
     “Wow!  You are even better—if that is the right word—for ordering sales people around than Amy, the shopping queen.  It’ll be fun to look.  I hope our erstwhile server is not going to be too disappointed but there is no way in hell that I can afford what she’s about to present, even one or two..
     “Nonsense.  It’s on me and with my pleasure.  It’s going to look delightful on you.  You were made for fine clothes.  Your destiny is to make all other women feel very inadequate.  I know I do and I have a very healthy ego and strong self-identification.  I would love to be by your side when we enter somebody’s fancy-schmancy party or the Cannes Film Festival.  You were born to walk into the Whitehouse and go to the head of the reception line.  They wouldn’t have to ask the others ahead.  They would all fall back like they were born to the privilege.  All eyes would be on us, well, you anyway.  But some would have to notice little me just because of the propinquity.  Who is that  lovely woman next to that goddess??”  “Ah, here are our mimosa:  so very civilized.  To us—all of us, including our boyfriend.” ‘and baby’, she thought.
*****
     “Sam!     Sam, I want to apologize for trashing your place with ugly words, thoughts and gestures and fortunately no deeds.”
     “Leela, I am so delighted you came back.  I was afraid you crossed off O’Zorgnax’s for good because of bad memories and karma.  No need to apologize, as long as you didn’t kill anybody with a pool cue.  I hate it when my cues are broken.  And my mirror.  Nope.  You were a model of restraint—comparatively speaking to some of my customers.  You are still welcome as well as your friend here.
     “Sam, may I present very special friend Suzy”  “The name might ring a bell—she is the trashee of moi; she is the other woman and is my friend and soon will be yours for life.  Close your mouth, Sam.  Your teeth aren’t capped to perfection to get away with that.  Susan James, may I present Sam, barkeep and philosopher and general all around good guy.  And he can keep a secret, even from his lovely wife.
     “Nope, I still got the same one.  It is a pleasure to see you Ms Susan.  It was just a few days ago I assumed I would see you two squared off with punches flying and hair being pulled.
     “Both Leela and Suzy looked at each other.  “That’s what we forgot—the damn hair!”  “Damn, we could be thrown out of the union,” added Leela.
     “Women do not have a union.  They should, but they don’t and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be a shop steward: man!  Suzy added, “And I even showed you my hair!!”  Both ladies doubled up and fell on the floor laughing.  Sam was glad he had swept earlier and was playing with the probably punch lines looking for meaning.
     After some deep breathing exercises—Lamaze, Leela would eventually learn--and Sam serving some other couples, both women settled down to something closer to normal.  Leela proudly and eagerly modeled her new jacket to the barkeep when he returned and ooh and ahed in all the right places.  She was tempted to show him her new pale green camisole and bikinis but Suzy grabbed the bag away from her.
     “When you first mentioned to me ‘like a family’, I thought I was going to violently puke.  Same thing with being friends with you except that was much more funny than nauseating.  I’m sorry, I was terrified and I closed the door as soon as I heard the second or third word.  I should have listened and thought about it.  Which I did, much later.  Too late to avoid a horrible injury but pretty fast for me—old closed mind, Leela—the one eye see all.
     Leela, any one, especially me, would have reacted in the same way or much worse.  You were actually a model of restraint.
     Hmmm-hmm!  Right!  But the thing is I have thought about and it doesn’t seem scary or weird but rather more natural.  Why not???  I know the devil would be in the details but it’s the little devil, the imp rather than The Fallen Angel and terrible and scary thing of power and corruption and hate.  I think it might be a little like having a sister—something I always wanted.  Not a big sister: know it all, bossy, possessive and dismissive of her little sister and her accomplishments and dreams.  Someone who is fun to be with, to play games with, to listen to, to respect and try to emulate.  Someone who cares about you and gives you good advice even when you think you know it all.  Maybe I could never share my man with Amy but I believe I could with my sister.  The only hard thing would be to determine which one I loved more.  I can see you being my sister, Susan James—Suzy—the Sooz:  Sooz Ste. Marie.  And it makes me feel all warm inside.
     “Oh, Leela.  I feel exactly the same way.  I want you to know I didn’t start with such a goofy premise.  It just started coming in little pieces and filling in.  A lot like when I discovered Fry liked and loved someone else, and did the ultimate gesture a lover can make: he wrote an opera to his love.  And I finally figured out that was you and how much he had to have loved you and maybe if he loved me a little like he said he did, well maybe we could share a little of you.  I first envisioned a commune, then a house with two cats in the yard and two women in the kitchen with toques, then an apartment with three bedrooms and one with a really big bed but I gradually thought maybe you would be more comfortable with the idea of when combined with your own place.”
     “Ooh: goldie oldie: Crosby-stills-graham-andyoung: classic golden era:  Our house is a very, very fine house/ With two cats in the yard/ Life used to be so hard/ Now everything is easy/ 'Cause of you!!!   
     “That is my image.  A house in the burbs near an elementary school with a huge playground with swings and teeter-totters, and a climbing thing you have to get roped up for because it’s a hundred feet tall and you’re able to rappel off of it: imagine!  And a soccer field and a ball field with a real pitcher’s mound and bases that are not manhole covers and can slide into second without ripping your leg and thigh to shreds from asphalt and broken glass.  Not having  the big library is going to hard to take, as well as the Met and I don’t even wanna think about the symphony: How?  Practice, practice, practice!!!  But you can walk down and shoot baskets without sweeping the rubbers stuck to cracked asphalt or pinned to the foul line with dirty hypos. and the nets are still there because they were never torn down in either the Eisenhower or Truman administrations and you can that swoosh a when a ball slips through there.  I could get a bike and you and I could ride together.  You think we could get Fry on a twenty eight speed?  Something that wasn’t a chopper or had a side car?  Would you really want all that if we could afford it?  Remember Mr. Blandings builds his dream house?”
     “He was a slick ad-man getting people to buy ham when they were Kosher.  He had the smaller half of Wong’s bank account.  Building a house complete  with treehouse was never an issue with him.  Of course he could, he would.  No I’m more like little darling Natalie Wood’s mother needing Santa Payne to intervene.  They did love each other.  It took the Natalie Wood for them to realize it.   But why should she have to have a male attorney save her butt?  Why isn’t she working?”
     “Actually, I thought she was.  It just took two or three incomes to make it real.  Or maybe a baby.  So you want to see Santa’s cane or have your own place?”
     “Being on your own; mistress of what you survey is awfully over-rated.  I missed the opportunity that you and other girls might have: college and dormitories, sororities, communes, and houses full of students you start of barely away of but are more important than your uncles and parents.  I went from the worst of those institutions—a minimum security orphanarium to bachlorettehood.  I could stand trying sisters and communers in life.  I have one other thing I want to talk about from my warped mind of the aforementioned with all love that’s due it—the orphanarium.  I went from myself only to this funny strange overpowering feeling of puberty and hourly assaults with hormones as big as starship cruisers—alpha and beta classes and then settled into an uncomfortable feeling of wanting boys which morphed    into   the slightly advanced version of wanting men and sex.  That is my life and maybe lots of other people’s in a nutshell.  There was no experimentation.  There were no summercamps, sleepovers, senior class trips to other states, no best friend, no gangs or soccer teams.  I was a u-boat and my periscope was permanently set for x-ys.  Do you sense what’s coming Suzy?” 
     “Yes.  I was in most of your experimental groups but please go on.  I want to hear it from your perspective.  Not mine.”
    “Recently and I mean the last few days, I’ve experienced confusion in my universe—universe Leela or universe-L.  I’ve had sensations and feelings that are remindful of my first introductions to hormones and desires and thoughts that are alien to me and perhaps are either antithetical or the embodiment of myself.  I don’t know which.  Sometimes when I touch you, on the ship a little while ago for instance when I gave your butt s little push.  Suzy, I am profoundly embarrassed to say but feel I will go crazy or repress it to my detriment and moodiness and bitterness.  My hand felt good there and as I pushed and increased the pressure, so did my pleasure and my wanting you.  I wanted my hand to slip, all by itself with a mind of its own in accordance with wishes from your individual body parts, into your slacks and into your panties and into you.  I wanted you a few minutes ago as much as I ever wanted a man.  I could imagine your disgust and uncomfort and still I wanted you.  I was envisioning myself forcing myself on to you and I almost came with the thought.  Seeing your pubic hair just so little time ago yet so long did nothing to me.  And yet in my memory I was still there and I rubbed my face and lips into that wirey but soft and silky curly hair between your legs.  I woke up the other night and I felt so stirred by that though that I had to masturbate and in my half dream of self gratification you requited me and sucked and stroked me with equal passion.  Well, I note you have neither fled nor struck me with your fist or boot.  Do you have any reactions to what I have just told you.  Do you care.  Do you lust.  Do you pity  Do you requite or do you hate and reject.  What say you Susan James Anderson who I think I love as much as I do Fry and ever as much and maybe even as always as much?  Please tell me truth.  I shall only be angry at you if try to spare my feelings.  It will be a real relief to know, regardless of the what or why.  And please fear not, if this is something you never want to talk about—regardless of how you are always wanting to sit down and talk about something, I shall never bring it up again.  It forever will remain a chaste love between sisters and best friends.”
     Suzy put her arms around Leela and pulled her as close as possible—gripping her as if she were a life raft in a rough sea.  She finally opened her eyes and stared into the lovely purple tinted iris—deep into her pupil into the complex and ever working brain and into her soul—the small point of intense white light ebbing and pulsing like an ember.  She entered her soul for those five minutes in that embrace and finding the strength somehow to hold even tighter she kissed Leela on the lips and slid her tongue into her mouth.   Both men and women kiss, touch, make love exactly the same way to a point.  They each wisely—to a point—perform the act in the same way as they would like to receive it back.  What could be fairer?  And each are forever slightly disappointed that the other reciprocates in the same desire to give the other the very best—the way he or she would like it.  Susan kissed Leela exactly the way she always wanted boys and then men to kiss her and of course she returned the same.  She would experience this revelation and wonder every time they held hands, gave a gift, made love.  They were just that much closer to themselves than the poor man could ever hope to achieve regardless of his good intentions or inate fumbling of hands and fingers.  If truth be known Fry had slightly more delicate fingers than Suzy—her art and her piano notwithstanding.  Fry would never be accused of magic fingers or slow hand.  He gave good head but not like Suzy—magic tongue.  Neither felt any of their love for Fry diminish.  Their lovemaking if anything increased the desire to have Philip in bed with them; his male member having been specifically designed in various nuances throughout millennia and was unequalled at bringing them physical and emotional pleasure.  He was still very much needed and loved.  But the women loved each other as well.  That night Suzy called Jill in Michigan who was sitting on the patio on the shore of Lake Huron having gin and tonics.  Suzy explained her relationship briefly—as difficult that is to say in few words—and asked Jill’s blessing of the other two moving   into their apartment with one of the three sharing the third bedroom at various times but mostly residing in her room.  Jill was only concerned with their integrity and cleanliness and was easily satisfied.  She happily agreed and said she couldn’t wait to meet her new roommates.  When she hung up, she realized she was jealous.  She had no boyfriend or that kind of a girlfriend or a fiancée.  Her roommate had four: herself, the three, the two women, the man and the woman.  She wondered what it was like to kiss Susan and sleep with her.  Maybe someday she would ask her; ‘why not?’  Maybe someday they would share Fry?  Stranger things have happened.  The logistics of four in a bed, just the combination and permutations of arms and hands and lips confused and overwhelmed her.  She poured herself a double gin and tonic and told her parents briefly about her roommate’s relationships.  They were fascinated and she noticed a   wistful look in her dad’s eyes.  Her mom was delighted and made many jokes regarding it somewhat to the chagrin of her father.  She did not mention the baby or the killer which was probably best thinking of her parent’s reaction despite trying desperately to be modern and hip.”
     Leela and Susan James broke out an old bottle of Mums and finished it just a few minutes in celebration.  They both wished Fry could have joined them.  They promised themselves ‘the three would do this as soon as possible.’
     Susan wanted to sit with Fry.  But Leela pointed out that ‘he was still heavily sedated and would never know if someone was there or not.’  She asked Suzy if they could sleep together that first night in Suzy’s bed with her teddy bear.  They slept entwined naked the whole night and woke the next morning feeling wonderful, refreshed, and happy.  Both went to the hospital and stayed with Fry all day who was so delighted with their new three person relationship that he tried to get out of bed and dance.  He promised occasionally and whenever requested that he would happily retire to the extra bedroom for an evening by himself—his eyes told the story that he was delighted to have that time to himself possibly to prepare for the next day coming--and let the girls have each other by themselves just as he would occasionally only have one or the other.  It was a good day and full of possibility and love.  There was a lot of discussion on the baby and the advantages of three parents especially in a loving house and Jill’s inclusion would only add to the strange mix. Oddly enough, no mention of the killer was ever made.     

[Reply #43 on:]

[Good newz everybody: there is a really great installment coming!  We also have one for you:]

     “You’d think you could get free samples in the hallways of Claussen’s—care to try our asprin-laced dill, how ‘bout our birth control dill?  Never cared for koshers but god, I love their garlics.  Makes me feel like I’m back in college.  The Thetas bought a 55gallon barrel of Claussens my pledge year.  Only reason I did all my pledge chores at the house were the pickles.  By the time the daffydillies came up that spring term—god, campus was beautiful--that barrel was empty.  My big sister accused me of eating more than half of them.  Wore out her paddle on me trying to make me a ‘real’—according to Sister Carrie--Theta.  She called me old iron BIG butt because she couldn’t get me to cry after ‘assume position Kat’.”
     “Cat?”
     “I was Kat my whole time in East Lansing except for Sister Carrie’s ‘ol’ iron BIG butt’.  There are still a handful of people in NNY that calls me Kat or Fat Kat but I’ll always be that to my Theta sisters.”
     “Except for Sister Carrie?”
     “Alas, no more.  My big sister—the perfect and ideal Theta picked up AIDS from her SAE fiancée; she’s at her big sorority house in the sky.  I would have loved her expression when she learned thal all her sigma alpha epsilon lovers and those who just wanted to stick their dicks up her tiny butt are all in the other place."
     “Here’s Fry’s floor.  Can I call you Cat?  You, Fat??  I’ll bet.”
     S’posed to be ironic.  I was such a little pain in the ass over-achiever at Moo U, I didn’t have time to eat; lost my periods too. You can, if you’re saying it with a K; I’m allergic to pussy cats……..Leela, what the fudge is that doctor doing to our Fry?”
     “Oh, he’s just…I think he…Hey you!!”  Leela let a vicious kick at the bedside doctor.
     He blocked it, went into a fighting stance and returned a two punch-one kick combo.
     Leela would have been in trouble if she had been by herself.  He would easily have found the opportunity to pull out his Sweet Little Quad shot Laser but the doctor got a vicious kick to the back of his neck from Suzy Kat.  He never got his opportunity with both of them.  He turned and Leela hit him in the back of his knee and then the side of his other knee.  He auickly looked from one to the other.  Suzy moved in front of the door and then feinted and was followed up by Leela’s punch to his ribs and then neck.  He jumped straight up onto the unconscious Fry and somersaulted through the open window which Fry’s nurse had just opened a half hour ago with Fry asking for the warm breeze off the East River.  The girls rushed to the window.  He had landed and went thru a Mini speed bug ragtop.  It was easier for him to exit the same way he came in and in seconds he had disappeared among the sea of white scrubs.  
     Leela and Suzy turned back to Fry and gasped.  Suzy started ripping out the cotton wadding that had been stuffed in his mouth that had been soaked in some horrible smelling liquid.  Leela pushed the call button.  When no one answered she ran into the hall, grabbed the first doctor and nurse she saw and pulled them into the room by their necks.  Suzy had just about evacuated the mouth.  “Parabesol,” she yelled to the wide eyed couple.  “It’s highly caustic and will surely do worse damage coming back up.”  She grabbed a biopsy hypo from the nurses pocket and plunged into Fry.  “You best run this down to the lab and see if he has any kidneys left.  NOW DOCTOR.”  “Nurse, get some Everclear in here now.”  The nurse, still wide-eyed and remembering the doctor yielding to this woman’s order spun and ran into the hall.  She returned in two minutes with a 50ml. lab flask of the clear liquid.  Kat emptied about a quarter of it into her mouth and sticking her finger down Fry’s throat, being careful not to stimulate his gag reflex, she poured the rest of it down his throat and massaged his sternum and tummy.  “Get the vampire up here now and have her start taking blood samples every five minutes with someone else to run them down to the lab.  “Oh, crap, I didn’t think of it.  Stupid, stupid.”  “K12 50ml intravenously NOW god damn it.”  The nurse spun again.  
     “Who the hell are you.”
     “I’m trying to save my lover’s life god damn it.”
     I’ve been standing behind this privacy drape for the last five minutes.  I can see that.  But that is not what I asked.  Who the hell are you?”
     The man was a 65 years old, white full beard but with a full head of brown hair cum pony tail falling down back: a doctor in a very expensive consultation coat-tiny very thick coke bottle glasses--Leela guessed they were little because if they were any larger, the exponentially thicker lenses would be too heavy to wear—some people, especially physicians and dentists hated the plasticized lenses for a slight problematic blurring.  An ancient wind up Rolex on his wrist and on the other end of the scale: a newer digital and self-hearing stethoscope which could detect a slight murmur in The Play at the Superbowl, stuffed casually in his pocket instead of the ritualistic around-the-neck which always looked stupid to Leela.  He looked intelligent and despite his gruff question, there was a twinkle in his eye.
     Leela thought he might be able to help or at least not hinder Fry.  “Doctor, this is Susan James she’s had medical training and is a very good friend of the patient here.  We’re afraid someone dressed as a doctor just tried to kill him.  Susan and the patient Fry have had several attempts on their life this week from some unknown assassin. Su…”
     “Ok, ok, that’s much closer to what I want to know.  You’ve been to medical school, your internship but not completed your residency yet?”
     “No doctor.  Where in the hell is that nurse?”
     “Good question.  Stay here.  Take his blood pressure and pulse.  There is a gurney in the hall, get him on it and…”
     “Don’t forget to strap him down…patients--especially ones with broken necks—don’t bounce worth a damn.”
     “Exactly.  Nurse Cratchitt.  NURSE   CRAT-SHIT, where the hell is that…oh here you are.  Just don’t stand there.  Get him hooked up.  Call the vampire.”
     “We already did, doc.”
     “Right, I remember that now.  When she shows up, tell her to put in a pick li..Were you going to add that to her work here?  Never mind, I know the answer.  Tell her Chief of Staff Christopher Brown, Jr’s orders if she doesn’t listen to you.  You don’t seem to have that problem, do you?”
     “Ok, strike med school.  You’re military.  You were a medic or corpsman in Wasatch or Parthos.  Too young for XXanixx planes.  Too old for the current mess.”
     “Corpsman on Parthos.”
     “There weren’t any doctors there.  The USEMA said it was too dangerous but not it seems too dangerous for GI kids or young pretty women corpsmen for that matter.  Most—not all, but most—of the corpsmen stepped up to the plate and hit safely:  I came in on senatorial investigations—damned depressing—and I was amazed, even knowing the fast track training you guys got, nearly all were functioning as seasoned physicians.  What you didn’t about battlefield medicine and surgery wasn’t worth knowing.  Maybe I saw you there but I was younger then and I would have made a beeline strait for you, hmmm hmm!  You no doubt would have put me in my place unless I put on scrubs and assisted you.  I was never prouder of the medical field that I was on those visits.  The USEMA got scathing letters and I’m sure it pricked the conscience of the editorial board as they sipped whiskey sours and stopped on the way to the country club at the bank.  They should have been ashamed of themselves.  And so it doesn’t surprise me:  You did an excellent job just now.  Perfect diagnosis from the smell I assume.  That can’t be a common substance except maybe in an organic lab.  How in the hell did you recognize it?  I  would have had to send it out although the odor was noticeable enough all over this floor.”
     “Some Major General got the bright idea it could be used as a defoliant against the ubiquitous thorns.  It did work well with both species as well as homo sapiens although some of us are more sapiens than others.”
     “Ok, that’s one organic smell you’ll never forget.  Nurse, check the damned IV, you got a bubble in it.  There’s now newer drugs with a little better absorptive action than your 99% ethanol but if that was a board question, I’d personally make sure you got credit for it.  Still very effective although not very sexy or expensive.  And the K12 is a nice touch.  Maybe not totally necessary but certainly won’t hurt—‘above all, do no friggin’ harm’--and if you have any residuals, that could take care of it.  Your tests are coming back I see.  No no, give them to her, she’s in charge of this patient.  How are they?”  
     “Started at -0.08 and already back to .22: delta 30%.  I think we’re clear.  At least for twenty four hours.”
     “Damned straight.  Congratulations doctor.  When you get through with your patient, come see me please.  I’d love to talk to you and take you out to dinner.  Your friend can chaperone.  Shouldn’t trust me alone with any pretty woman:  too old to be a problem to TWO beautiful women.  Excellent job ladies.  Nurse Cratchitt:  Did you just hear that I said this woman is in charge?  Well make sure the rest of the floor and the rotating doctors know it too.  Anyone gets a bug up their butt can call me; I dare them.  I’d tell you that you can put Mr. Fry back in his bed but I’ll bet you already figured out that.  I’ll be back after 1900hours corpsman Suzy.  Cratchitt, call security after you quit messing around with that damn IV and tell them someone tried to kill her patient.  And just because I can call her ‘corpsman’ or ‘Suzy’, doesn’t give anyone else that right.  She is to be referred to as Doctor James on and off this floor.  Make sure security gets her an appropriate ID with that name and title and no god-damned irony.  Carry on people.”
     “I wish you had saved a cup of that Everclear for me.”
     “And another for me.  Sorry, I envisioned her bringing the whole bottle in.  Listen, why don’t you run out and grab a scotch and a steak sandwich.  Please bring another one with fries—no scotch though, regardless of how much I want one—back.   Wish I liked milk shakes,  just bring me some tonic water and a lime.  There’s ice on the floor.  Fry is doing so much better.  He’s losing that ugly jaundiced color as we speak.  I’ll stay with him for today and if he looks good by tonight, I’ll come home and sleep with you.  As much as I like her, I wish Jill would not ever come back.  We all could run around naked in our little nest.  Go get me that steak samich.  Maybe tomorrow, I think, Fry’s going to be lucent again.  We can take turns then.”
     “You think our Ninja is going to return tonight?”
     “I kind of hope he does.  No.  But I’ll have security put at least two guys in here and I’ll close and lock that window now.  Get that sandwich before I start sucking on Fry or you could pull down those stretchers and your undies and come here.  Ok, ok.  Put pickle and onion on it--the sandwich too.”
*****

[Reply #44 on:]

Today's Installment...WOW:
     ‘New building, new door and old lock:  doesn’t make sense.’  Leela’s door swung carefully open and then was closed with a latex gloved hand.  Spider Silvitch started looking for something—he didn’t know what—in the kitchen. And after trashing the entire cheery seldom used room he looked in the bedroom.  He noticed the photos hanging.  There was no mistaking the red-headed Fry and in some he was with someone else.  ‘Was this before she forgot about her man?  Hmmm, but she had already changed her name, what the hell’s with that?  And a little after is when Fry started showing up by himself.  Damn woman!  Still….Crap, you’ve panicked once already.  You gotta decide what you want to do; you can’t keep changing the rules and outcomes.  Well, thank god, no couples shots, at least for now.  Thank gods for little favors.  Hmmph, she is one strange looking bitch.  Alien.  Best avoid her as a menu choice; probably taste more off than Christie, the natural blonde.  Man, that takes the cake.  Nice body though, if you like that sort of thing.  Aw, these pictures suck.  Ok, let’s check the bathroom and get the hell out of here.  She ain’t gonna show up here anymore.  See if Duffy and the Elite are in.’
*****
     Silvitch was looking in a folder with a purple file tab.  He did not know this referred to an HIV pos patient but he would probably have come up with a plausibly vague answer if questioned on anything.  Out of the corner of his eye he watched a newly arrived physician push at Fry’s door.  He stopped and read the little sign on the door and then knocked.  It was opened by two big hulking security men.  Silvitch could see at least one more standing by the patient’s bed.  ‘Didn’t see either woman in there but that didn’t mean anything.  ‘Hmmm the older one showed up again.  Are they together?’  He almost gagged.  He watched security check the doctor’s ID and quickly check their clipboard.  He was admitted and the door was closed.  ‘Crap, might as well go get something to eat.  I guess I could finish the last of my long legged blonde.   Funny taste though; usually blondes are sweet.  Too late to check the pubes.  We’ll give her the benefit of the doubt: she was a blonde, maybe it was her diet or in her case, Slurm.  That’s the rotgut that would do it, alright.  I’ve heard that there are dumb crappers who marinate their meat in the stuff.  Must be like a hair shirt or something.’
*****
     The surprisingly big 300SL moved very slowly—almost at stall speed—along the road.  Burkhart was looking at the edge.  Light had given out on him and he had put on his night glasses ten minutes ago.  Many disliked having to use them but he actually preferred looking for something er, rather looking for a change in what should be there.  An unusually high broken branch, a branch at an unusual angle that might be camouflage, a change in the base behavior of a natural setting he had coined.  You’d never find a needle but you might see where the needle had come from and what was hiding it.  He had to goose the Benz it started to drop and almost landed.  He took a right hand curve in the road and sped up just an inch more a second and passed over a dip in the road and he saw it as if a neon red, white and blue flag had been waving.  The lower branches of a fallen tree above a horizontal tree with all its branches flush with the bark.  There was an entry way there that had a huge sign announcing its presence.  He wasn’t paying sufficient attention last night and probably going way too fast.  He inched along twenty thirty forty feet and found a sufficient space to pull off and conceal the 300SL.  He walked back and pulled his service automatic and carefully made his way through the tree forming the gate.  He saw the tent immediately and noticed the carefully carved up Christie along with a small pile of the finished bones.  He opened up her purse and noticed it had not been—maybe yet—rifled.  ‘Christie Sweenwalter.  Ok, 6’0” 1340 Spanish Lane apt c2.  Hmm, doesn’t matter.  He picked her up in the street or a bar.  Basic working  girl got in way over her head and lost it—literally along with various other body parts.  What the hell does he do with the breasts—eat them?  Eats a lot of the rest, so why not?  Hmmm, two fingers missing: another message somewhere and I guess to those two kids.  Wonder if he’s coming back?  Maybe Christie is getting a little too full of maggots crawling around, bout ready to emerge.  Tainted meat?  I wonder if he ever cooks it when he has time and opportunity, oh wait, here’s his little Svea and, awwww, ain’t that sweet: a nickel bottomed copper pan—just like Hannibal Lecter used with Jodi: what a dipcrap!!  Ok: Sammie’s—Where the elite meet to eat.  Hmmm—betcha duffy ain’t there at the moment—and Georgie’s Escort Service.  Ok your basic legitimate business card—a  real life working girl.  I could use a beer at Sammie’s.  See what the neighborhood and neighbors are like.  He took off a cheap bracelet.  Maybe Georgie wants his bracelet back?  After I take a nap here if I can find a place to get out of the smell and flies.’
Silvitch took the corner edging near the other side and flew past his gateway and immediately slowed way down and inched along.  He noted a metallic look of something that probably shouldn’t be there unless it a beer can in the weeds.  ‘Gee, what are the odds of that?  Regardless of it being very, very high he hit the long-shot.’  THE 300SL was there waiting for both of them.  He rummaged in his boot and pulled out some stuff and crawled under the Benz, he was done in three minutes and he sped off the way he came.  She was probably getting a little buggy by now anyway.  Not so bad  when it was thoroughly cooked which toughened the delicate meat but was unedible otherwise.  Despite everything you might think of this animal, he was a gourmand who took his meals and meat especially very seriously.  Tainted meat such as maggot infested gave him him the willies and a serious loss in appetite.  Maybe he would swing by Sammie’s and complain to Georgie that his princess had got  fed up and bitch about losing his deposit.  Maybe he could get a replacement with a little off.  He snickered at that little off.  And thought and said.  ‘nah, I’m way more than a little off.  Big off doesn’t sound right, does it.?’
Around 2.00hours the wind shifted and Burkhart was immediately assaulted by Christie’s smell and said the hell with it.  He walked out and down to his hidden Benz.  He fired it up and cruised off.  After five minutes he started watching the tach.  God damn it, that tune up should last another three to six months and then his eyes went wide.  It could be activated by time, stopping the engine, starting the engine—obviously not, dropping below a certain rpm or reaching a certain rpm.  Maybe others but more problematic.  Did I go fast enough to start it?  I think remember if he was able.  He suddenly sped up and slowly slipped down by the throttle to jam it and listened to the engine to ensure a reasonable speed.  Reached behind the seats and pulled out some coils of rope that looked like twins to Silvitch’s and made a combination harness and bos’n’s chair and measured six feet and lashed it under the seat frame.  He lifted up driver’s side gull wing and slowly bailed out.  It was harder to position himself than he possibly imagined in the buffeting wind and kept wondering if he was inadvertently going to grab a fan belt or capacitor wire or something stupid.  After almost an hour he got himself positioned to see it and he pulled wire clippers out and carefully cut the leads.  He unscrewed the clamps and finally decided to save the still useful bomb.  And it took a while to back in carrying that stupid thing.  Despite the evaporative wind; he was soaked with sweat and shaky.  He dropped down, ran out as soon as the door pulled itself up and threw up along the side of the road.  He was getting too old for this.  It wasn’t fun anymore.  He should never have told himself or Carol about his retirement, er, leaving; he was already gone.so.  So, up or down?  Well he knows I going to have to eventually slow down and maybe in the traffic he wants to involve: that’s it.  I wonder if there is also a max, maybe but just trouble and not necessary.  Hmmm.  He rose to about 160 ft to avoid any tree which would be a crash to
     Leela glanced at her watch—a nice one: old fashioned twenty-one jewels wind up, luminous marks—not numbers, thrybdium crystal, 400K—as if her bathtub was close to that—waterproof and she loved the bright red second-hand sweep and the red-cross emblazoned on the dial.  Still looked beautiful except the genuine 18carat gold ‘plating’ was wearing off.  Fry had given it to her, like most of the nice things she had.  She should have plenty of time to stop at her apartment and pick up some things for Suzy’s, er , their place.  If she hurried she still could eat and have that drink and bring Sooz her sandwhich before she made good on her threat of supping off Fry—he should be awake at the very least.  She started jogging and went into a sprint; it felt good to run an oxygen debt.
     Her pulse was just about back to normal even after the run up the stairs and she unlocked the door.  ‘Oh my god’  We’ve had an 8.1R earthquake:  ‘What the hell!!?’  If she had seen Fry’s and Bender’s, she would know.  And even though she hadn’t looked at that mess someone left there, she made the highly probable connection. ‘But why the fudge, me?  I thought someone was after Fry and Sooz.?  Guilt by Association or just prejudice against Cyclops?’
     Spider Silvitch finally found a loc—Suzy’s new one--he could not open and that p.o.ed him greatly; he took it personally.  So they want to play rough.  That can make it fun in the end.  Ok, new rules of engagement and new games; I can play that way.  He hit down on the elevator, walked in and closed the door.  He took off the service panel and cut three wires and hit EMERGENCY STOP.  The elevator stopped without an alarm.  He spliced two lengths of wire and checked their lengh and then stuck them in his pocket.  He jumped straight up hitting the trap door which flew open.  He jumped again, caught the inside and swung up bringing up his knees and the feet entered the top and he pulled himself  in.  Bringing the wires together again, the alarm sounded and went on and on.  Security eventually walked up and took a look.  They re-set it and went bach to their pinochle game.  Spider was already taking a nap on top of the elevator.
*****
     Suzy was sitting in a more comfortable chair the Nurse Ratchitt had brought in for her.  After she pushed it over to Fry’s bed, she pulled off the seat a light blue lab coat—Suzy had no idea where she could have found it since they were almost universally white with a few navy due to some convention or other.  She held it while Suzy slipped her arms in it.  “It fits you, nicely.”  She reached in her pocket and handed her a rectangular CK Beth Israel Medical Center identification card complete with a surprisingly nice photo security had taken of her.  ‘Susan James, MD along with the vital statistics.’  Susan stared at it and the nurse watched her carefully as tears welled up in her eyes.  “I think that’s the nicest thing that old bear ever did or ever will do.  He is my role model of The Physician and I’m ashamed to admit it but my deceased husband would never have come close: attitude, intelligence, diligence, empathy, ability and please don’t ever tell him that I said so  but also being handsome and dashing:  Dr. Kildare’s chief of staff,  Raymond Massey.  My mother would have said Berry Fitzgerald but he was crotchety all the time and was willing to steal credit.  I’ve loved him for thirty years, but never more than when he spoke to you.  Would you like me to pin that on your blouse or your jacket or would you like to do it the first time?”
     “Please, would you.  I’m so nervous now for some reason, I know I am going to draw blood.  God, I hope I’m never told I have diabetes as little as anyone is  ever is told that anymore.  On your coat, please.”
  That’s your coat now.  You have to have that if you’re in the fraternity.  Oh, and not as fancy as his, but…” and she reached in her other pocket and handed her a stethoscope.  “I’ve got these all over the house; thought about making lamps out of them.  I’m afraid you actually have to listen with this one” and winked at her.  “Your boyfriend looks nice.  It must seem strange that he hasn’t been able to talk to you for so long time but I wish I could said that about my husband before he died.  That’s his lab coat by the way.  He had it especially made; couldn’t stand white or navy blue.  I put a CK Beth Israel MC patch—(your embroidered name looks like a cheap rush job—well I guess that’s what it was)-- over his embroidered name  He would have enjoyed seeing you wearing it, too.  I hope Mr. Fry’s kidneys are much improved and that his neck continues to mend well.  There should be a neurosurgeon in around 13.00hrs today; I hope he gives you good news.  I’ll stop in later unless you call me for something, please.  All the nursing staff—sixteen floors are rooting for you.” 
     Susan reached out and caught her by her collar before she could make her exit through security.  They hugged.
*****
     Suzy never noticed that light rap fifteen minutes later.  The security twins opened the door and stepped back as Leela hurried in with a large bag and a carton of three coffees and the tonic and lime.  Suzy continued to sit and stare at Fry while holding his hand in a death grip.  Leela tapped her on the shoulder and kissed her cheek.  She handed her the steak sandwich and her drink.  She also distributed the same sandwiches to security and coffee.  “Wouldn’t be fair to have to stay in here and smell that aroma.”  She looked at them hard.  “You’d do the same thing for me, wouldn’tja?”  and then laughed.  Leela pulled up a chair next to Suzy.  “How is he?”  “How are you?”
     “Vitals are great.  Kidney and liver functions and enzymes are perfectly normal.  I just wish he would wake up and say something like ‘I love you’ and I wouldn’t care if he was speaking to you.  I just want him up.”
     “I know you do.  We all do.  Are you worried something might be wrong. 
     “Nothing specific or with cause.  I’m just a worrier.  I worry about you too, you know?”
     “It nice to be worried about.  Knowing someone cares.  It’s precious, especially you.”
     “Oh Leela, I am so happy and yet so fearfully afraid that having gotten miraculously the love of you and Fry, I am going to lose it. 
     “We’re going to grow old together—the three of us—Sooz.  Will you love me when I’m wrinkled and my tits hang down to here.
     “I’m going to hate you because you will always have perky tits and I shall always be jealous of them and your purple hair. 
     “Hmm: a love hate relationship.
     “Till death do us part.”
     “That’s a pretty lab  \coat you have on.  Your ID is really cool.  Did it make you feel special when you pinned it on.
     “My floor nurse Ratchett pinned it on me.  This was her husband’s coat.  Ooh secret.  Cross your heart and hope to die?”
     “You betcha.”
     “Nurse Ratchett has been in love from afar with our Dr. Brown for years.  I suspect long before her physician husband died.  I think that is so sweet.”
     “Awwwwwe.    But sad too; bittersweet.  Sooz, would your parents like me?  Would they accept me as your soul mate and lover.” 
     “My dad would have.  You’d been another daughter to him.  Probably his favorite in very short order.  You’d liked him.  He died on Parthos; I seemed to have lost a lot of Parthos; there were times I wish I had died too.  I never knew my mom.  Dad loved her and always told me stories of her so I have part of me that remembers her but she died in childbirth with me.  I’ve always thought of giving birth in those terms: death, loss, fear.  I’m not sure I could overcome those fears to become a mother.  Leela, could I ask you something that is very, very personal and I’m afraid to because I fear you would have told me if you wanted me involved.”
     “Wow, talk about too much information with only a little knowledge of the subject.   But I can guess, I am sorry.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.  I guess I just didn’t think.  I can try to answer but maybe you should ask the question so I don’t miss part of your perspective—the baby?”
      “Oh Leela, maybe that’s all I need for you to say: baby to me.  I had so many fears that maybe I was in the way.  That this was between you and Fry and your child.  That maybe you thought I wouldn’t want you if you were carrying Fry’s child.  That you were afraid I would resent the baby for me being so clearly unpart of us or maybe jealous of its  soon to be constant attention.  Can it be my baby too?  Can I love it like I love it’s mommy and daddy.  Is there a room in the nest of three for one more?  Can I be with you in the delivery even I’m terrified you are going to die?”
     “Please come here and hold me and kiss me.  Hmmm.  Do you know I always forget  what it’s like after you stop kissing me until your lips are on me again?  I think I remember something wonderful and exciting and warm and loving and then I feel them against me again and I then I remember what it is really like.  I love you Sooz.  I also am so ashamed I hurt this much.  But it was never personal; it was never because of you.  Of course the babu will be yours and no less the mommy than me.  I know Fry will feel the same but you or we can ask him if you want.  I want you there so you can experience the miracle too.  Our baby is only going to strengthen the love and attachment for all of us.  Please, please forgive me for not talking with you about it.  I’ve already assumed we are a family and the baby will make us four: a lovely number.  If we can share Fry, we certainly can share a baby.  And Susan, I’m sure you are fully aware that less than .0008 of births have any complication whatsoever—thanks to the probulator and early intervention.  I hope you will accept your baby having only one eye and purple hair and lord knows if there is a tentacle in our future as well.  I know statistically that doesn’t mean a damn but on the other hand, it kind of seems like we’ve already got more than the complications of birth that is statistically predicted.  My health in our delivery will be clear sailing.”
     “Leela, I hope our baby looks just like you.  Statistically, it might be a complication, to me it would be a blessing.”  “I feel so wonderful right now.  As soon as you mentioned the word ‘baby’ to me, all my fears and worries started melting away.  I don’t remember what I ever was worried about now.”  “Oh, Leela, we’re going to be mommies.  If there is a complication in our birth, we’ll deal with it as a family.  We have lots of love to give to a baby with a tentacle or two.”  “Would you mind if I curled up in this chair and went to sleep next to you.  Anytime in the night you want to put your hand on me or kiss me or climb up into my chair, please do.”  “Wake me if Fry awakens, ok.”
*****

[Reply #45 on:]

(Buenos dias, Sunshines.  Time to smell the coffee and get up.  New Installment for today: Calloo, calay:)

    Sammy’s    Where the  lite meet to eat.  “Uh oh,” snickered Spider, “the elite have been downgraded to lite.”  He roared with laughter, tear streaming down his eyes.  He could barely catch his breath.  A drunk came staggering out the door, saw Spider laughing and shuffled over laughing.  All of a sudden it was no longer funny to Savitch; he resented sharing his humor.  He kicked the souse in the teeth, knocking the few he had left out.  Before he hit the ground, Savitch hit him in stomach and then broke his jaw with an upper cut.  While he lay sprawled in the parking lot, Savitch kicked him the head and then ribs.  ‘Maybe if he wakes, he’s not gonna find that so funny anymore.’  Four guys were watching him from the doorway.  As he approached all of them scattered  in different directions.  Fast.
     “George!  Get your ugly rear end of a face out here to the bar!”
     George suddenly appeared wiping his hands with a dirty towel.  “What the hell you want, jerkface?”
     “Your girl.  Your god-damned girl, Christie.  She took off on me.  I never even got to sleep with her.  I’m thinkin’ you owe me one more lady and I ain’t gonna give you no deposit, either!”
     It was one more thought that Georgie was used to having to deal with.  “Whaddya mean she took off?  Took off where?  Whaddya do to her?”
     “How the hell I know?  She’s your girl, you should know.  And it’s not what I did to her…it’s what I didn’t to her that concerns you dipstick!  You know what I mean?”
     “Never happened fore!!  Crap, I dunno what to do.”
     “What you do is get me another girl and I’ll leave you to your lites.”
      All 328 pounds of George were on verge of tears, “Lites?  I don’t have no lites here.  Sissies donna come into this bar to drink no damn lites.  I’d have everclear in here if it were brown.  Whaddya ya tryin to say to me?  You making fun of me?”
     Savitch calmed down and talked slower, friendlier.  “It’s your sign George.  You know: ‘where the elite meet to eat’  A neon bulb burned out.  It says where lite meet to eat…that’s all.”
     “I hate that mo-fu sign.  It’s not my sign.  It came with the place.  I never figured it out.  You say it’s burning out?  Good, good riddance.  Now, I’ve been thinking and I’m thinking that damn Christie did screw you.  Hell she screwed me too.  A twofer!  I was wrong bout her.  I thought she was ok;  I was wrong.  But no matter how I work it, you know? You didn’t do nuthin wrong cept get screwed by Christie.  So, I’m thinking maybe you do have something coming. George briefly thought about pulling his Louisville Slugger out and taking this pain out.  Or pulling the shotgun out and doing a faster of a job of it but like he said, he aint done nuthin.  Ok we’ll get you another escort.”
      “Here, she said to give this to you.”  Spider turned over George’s unresisting hand and dropped the jewelry into his palm.
    “Say wha…?  Oh…this was hers.  Her first trick gave it to her in exchange for the virgin part.  Dumb broad thought it was always gonna be that easy and nice.  She held out on the bracelet with her pimp not to mention half the negotiated fee.  You never wanted to do that with that little prick.  He cut the hell out of her and threw her in with the garbage in an alley couple of blocks from here.  Damn, she was a …her whole f-up life ahead of her!”
     “Hey, quit the god-damned reminiscing.  How many times you pork her and beat her up, huh?  I want a blonde.  A real blonde, not like that bitch, that sweet little kid, Christie.”
     “Christie was blonde.”
     “Bullcrap, you ever take a look at her curly short hair in the nether region? 
 George who had spent plenty of time there never had noticed any particular color.  “Crap.  She was no good.”  It had been a hard morning for him and he was getting a splitting headache.  “Phyllis!  Hey Phyl, get out here.”
    “Whad you want, Georgie?”
     “I want you to pull down your pants and show the gentleman what he wants to see.  Show the man the pussycat.”
    “What????”
     “I ain’t repeating that Phyl.”
     “Ok ok, crap.  Well, is this what you had in mind?”   
     “The kitty cat and you look lovely Phyllis.  I’d like very much to have both of you for dinner.”
     “Yeah?  Is this a formal thing I have to dress up for or is this ok?”
     “No.  You look lovely—good enough to eat.  Are you ready or do require anything.”
     “Nah, I’m good.  You already settle up with Georgie?”
     “It’s been taken care of Phyl.  And Phyl?  No funny business.  I don’t want you running or taking off or anything.”
     “What?”
     “You heard me: no funny crap.”
     “You know, I’m getting worried about George.  Nothing use to phase him.  All he used to do was use the backside of his hand or pull out his Louisville and threaten to use it.  Think I should stop charging him for it?”
     “I don’t think you’re gonna charge him no more for the privilege.”
     That’s what I was thinking.”
     Not quite.”
     Spider had been furious most of the night and all early morning.  He was irate that neither the red-head or the girl had come back to the apartment.  He hurt from lying on cable housings and bolts on top of the elevator.  And everytime it went down, it dropped too fast and he had been on the verge of motion sickness all night.  And most of all he had missed the fun of dropping in on them as they kissed or fudged in the lift.  He figured someone else deserved a bad time and he decided that Phyllis was likely as anybody.  After he ate well he would visit both of the other apartments and see if they had retuned there.  He felt a lot better as soon as Phyllis’ day started deteriorating rapidly.
*****
     Like the last time, getting into Fry’s old apartment he had shared with Bender was a very simple operation and took less than ten seconds.  He looked around.  It didn’t look like anyone had been back.  Everything was on the floor the same way after it had been trashed.  He looked in the bed rooms when he thought he heard a noise—sounded somewhat like a mechanical snore—and he opened what was a closet off the living room.  Spider nearly jumped six inches.  A god-damned robot stood in this broom closet or something and was obviously sleeping.  He had  been snoring and occasionally talking in this sleep.  The robot farted a smell of burnt Castrol™ and stale beer.  He muttered, “Must kill all humans,” letting off more fowl fumes.  Talk about morning breath!   Spider backed up carefully.  Robots gave him the willies and he quickly left. 
     Robots killing all humans:  Bad karma.  Maybe he should lay off tonight, take in a movie, go bowling.  Maybe even get a prostitute and spend a normal night with her and maybe even play a little gin rummy or some board game, maybe Clue©.  He giggled,’ it was the garrote, in the principal’s office by Spider’.  He belly laughed for almost five minutes.  Would you have to pay her less if you only wanted play Clue©; he started chuckling again:’ you’d probably have to pay more.  Even if I promised I wouldn’t eat her?’  That set him off again with the giggles.  And then he turned serious.  ‘When was the last time I played Clue.  Parents went out and my brother and I played.  He let me stay up late, well, later.  That must have been only last week, wasn’t it?  What happened to my brother anyway?’  It refused to come to him.  He went out and got a beer and then walked over the the next apartment building. 
     Spider was still p.o.ed at elevators so he walked up the stairs, floors A to I.  He knocked on 1I and waited, and reached around to take a thin pouch holding his precision made surgical steel picks when a voice came to the door: a woman talking to someone else.  He looked quickly around, no real place to go might as wait and see.  You can always talk yourself out of anything with enough simple half true generalities.  Leela opened the door still talking to Suzy who was in the kitchen making a mango tart.  Leela looked at Spider and slightly smiled, “Yes?”
     ‘The Cyclops in the pictures.  I’m almost there.’  “Hi I’m Sam Kingston, I’m from Philip-Morris™Insurance, we insure the apartment building against damage.  May I see the lady of the house, please. 
     “You mean from that break-in?  I didn’t know that was covered? 
     “Well it must be.  The apartment owners asked us to settle but I’ll need to talk to the insured.”
     “Would that be me or the apartment manager?”
     “No, it would be the de facto lease holder.  May I see her, please?”
     “Well that’s me.  I’m the lease holder: Turanga Leela.”
     “Oh that’s probably just a simple mix up.  What is your roommate’s name and where is she?”
     “I never had a roommate here except briefly: big mistake, Sean Centipiper, naked saxophonist and philanderer, but that was fifteen-sixteen years ago.  His name is not on the policy is it?  I’ll kill him if he…” 
     “No, but I should pull the whole file and come back.  My assistant obviously made some clerical errors.  You know Miss Turanga, you look very familiar.  I’ve seen your picture before on a friend’s bedroom wall.”
     “Fry!  You’re a friend of Philip?”
     “No, Fry was in the pictures also.”
     “We are?  Hermes?  No, well who is your friend?”
     “Susan Anderson”
     “Sooz!  I didn’t know she had pix up of us.  How do you know her?”
     “Er, old friend.  I stopped at her place when I was in town for the claim but she wasn’t…”
     Suzy standing just off to the side of the door reached out, grabbed Leela’s ponytail and pulled her back.  Leela’s feet flying backward trying to keep up with the momentum and to keep from falling.  She flew past Suzy who was swinging the door shut.  She locked three deadbolts.  Leela stared at her.  “What the fudge?”
     “Leela, that’s the ninja.  Remember, in the hospital room and out the window?”
      Leela ran to her desk, pulled out her blaster, flew over to the door and swung it open. No one was there.
     “He said he had been over to the other apartment and you weren’t there.”
     “I heard.  That’s when I grabbed that handy handle, I’m sorry if it hurt.  Arrrrgh!!  My assault rifle is at the god damned hospital.  That’s really a good place for it.  I’m such an idiot. 
     “And your automatic?”
     “I gave it to Fry.  It’s probably with his clothes in a locker when he came in through emergency.  CK Beth Israel has a damn armory there because of me.  He thought this was my apartment for some reason.  Why would he think that?” 
     “I don’t think it can because of Fry.  Fry wasn’t over here at all after he met you.
     “Will you ever forgive me for that?”
     “Sooz, that wasn’t a bitch session; it was just a fact. 
     “K.  I guess I feel guilty cause I thought I heard a sigh in there.”
     “Well, yeah, it did hurt. And if I remember it, I also remember the hurting.  But that doesn’t mean I was blaming either of you.  I don’t want to hurt anyone, least of all, you and Fry.  Fry, apparently the most.  It just was.
     “As is life.  I won’t let you hurt me; I shall try to prevent the same with Fry.”
     “I can do it; it’s part of me I am afraid.  Ok.  If I am able to do it anyway, I want to try to prevent it or fix it.
     “You can fix it by loving me.  You’re doing that really well, hmmm, really well.  But what I originally meant was that he could not have gotten you from Fry.  Hmm, but he had to have seen Fry’s pictures in his apartment and in various combinations, we were in most of those pictures.”
     “He got Fry’s address from posing as an NSA agent at PE.“
     “But he already had your address before that.  Hmmm.  Let me walk through this possibility, stop me   when there is an error in the logic:  1. I think because he knew your address first, he knew you before Fry.  2 is  that Ninja associated Fry as a target because he was with you a considerable amount of time—there are no sighs, at least yet.  Wait.  Here’s a thought. Lets call this 2A. You didn’t become a target until you and Fry became a couple.  Maybe that made him angry.”
     “Yeah, like he was a stalker and I was all his and he was happy to have that, at least at that time.  But when he has to share me with another person, Fry: he wants to kill Fry and me too.”
     “No, he thinks he wants to kill you because you have proved unworthy but when he sees you, he can’t do it.”
     “Yeah, except he thought he blew my head off and didn’t feel bad enough not even to slow down in pulling off a shot at Fry.”
     “But remember, that was from some distance back.  He wasn’t looking into your face.  Just a hood in cross hairs.  When he was close and really see you, he couldn’t do it.  Do you think that’s why he’s after me now, because I’m a lover and just as much of a threat as Philip is.
    “ But Leela, I don’t think he’s after you yet.  When you answered the door, he recognized you but you weren’t the person he was looking for.  It was still me.  You know, this might explain how you entered his little head.  Hermes or Amy maybe mentioned you as the ‘special’ person in Fry’s life like girlfriend, main squeeze, significant other…you know the terms and he not being aware of you as part of his targeted couple thinks they’re talking about me.  He goes to your personnel file and gets your address and thinks maybe it’s an alias or maybe the real identity of you and he comes here thinking that this is my apartment away from Jill.?”
     “Have you turned any guy down for a date more than once ever?”
     “Does when include being a teenybopper.  I was pretty clueless as to how to treat boys as people.  I’m still not sure they’re related.”
     “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ah.  Sub-species.”  Both women broke up. They were still laughing  when Suzy said, yeah, but we had an awful a lot of evolving yet to do to.  And both remembered embarrassing things they had said or done to someone else.  “Where were we?  Oh yeah, me turning down somebody.  Well maybe I’m conveniently revising history from a more flattering view but I think I went out with anybody who asked me unless I was going with somebody and I didn’t ever have many exclusive boyfriends.  If I didn’t have a good time with a date, I gave them another chance and then I told them why.  A lot, no, that was most, most were glad they had the chance, sorry if that sounds conceited.” “ Most of my friends thought that was pretty weird.”  “I had all kinds of dork friends and a lot of them were a riot to date.  I don’t remember any of them trying to be romantic or anything.  They, like me, were just after a good time.”  “I had a serious boyfriend my senior year at MSU, we were talking about an engagement—we both wanted to graduate first—but his grades slipped and he was drafted and he died in the warm up to Parthos—remember their raids to P3, P4, and P7?”  “The only other serious person in my life besides you and Fry was my husband and like I told you, he was lost in action.  Maybe it’s easier thinking there could still be a chance but after a while that possibility becomes a curse.  It would really have been nice to have closure and maybe a simple funeral.  Oh, Leela, sometimes I still miss him so much and I reach out and….”  Leela held her while she cried and cried.  It wasn’t long before they both were bawling in grief and despair.

[Reply #46 on:]

     Fry remained a mystery at CK Beth Israel.  He was regularly examined by neurologists and set a record for testing in general and specifically for EEGs.  All agreed there was no organic reason they knew of why he persisted in a coma.  His eyes stayed open, seeming to blink in recognition although he would not respond to test questions and he seemed to be between sleep and wakefulness; he showed signs of consciousness but while in a coma.  He had disturbing habits of violently shaking his head ‘no’ and then nodding.  Sometimes tears coursed down his cheeks and it looked like he had lost his mother and dog which of course he had.  They had tried aromatherapy with everything from grass clippings to skunk gland scent.  He had been bombarded with aroma of his favorite meals—pizzas and babybacks and bacon and fries--to the colognes and body fluids of Leela (the big, 6'4" 248lb lab tech with a beautiful black eye asked Suzy sheepishly if SHE please, would ask Leela for a swab of sweat from...well, down there, cauze he'll go back to crazy MacaDonaldas Bellevue before trying that again).  .  The entire version of ‘Walking on sunshine’—never mind that Fry only knew snippets of the refrain—was played over and over.  Suzy borrowed a small spinet on wheels and played the music of his entire opera three times through, really banging away at the overture.  Leela and Sooz would sing the arias acapella.  Leela recorded from Sam’s jukebox all of Fry’s favorites of which he had sunk a fortune playing them again and again.  Sam brought over some old vinyl he had scored at something more than his tavern was worth—a mamas and the pappas lp, two single 45rpm of The Lovin’ Spoonfull’s  Do you believe in magic and Did you ever have to make up your mind?; the Animal’s House of the Rising Son, Pet Sounds, and an almost mint Sgt Pepper lp and three he brought, just for Fry, at exorbitant prices, despite the pathetic sad story: Mint vinyls of Brubeck’s Take five, Mann’s Push push and a Koko that would send shivers down your spine with every eighth bar.  People—open mouthed and in awe--were stacked up six deep outside their door during the vinyl concerts played on Sam’s classic walnut-based Garrard 401—the last one in existence in this universe.  He was wheeled out in the sunshine, the wind, rain, to NNY traffic, to a Yankees game: Sammy Berra, the long-time golden-glove catcher and was a clone from a bit of illegally obtained Yogi--who had busted a gut watching Leela playing with his hated-Mets, rolled him out to the mound in the middle of the eighth inning—New York up one to zip over the Senators with Whitey going for a perfect game.  He took the ball from Whitey O-fay Ford and pointed to the bench and opened Fry’s hand and slapped him the red-stitched horsehide.  “Get this guy out for Leela, Fry.”  Fry would have died a thousand times—willingly and standing in line--over to have heard that really said to him in this hallowed place but if he had, he did not react.  (Whitey came back and threw an excellent slider that Robinson—a trillion dollar clone from the great Reds & Orioles third baseman--ripped over the left field wall.  Whitey would later always blame Fry, for that perfect game lost and never found again.  No one would ever blame the lemur Berra’s distant relative of anything—he had too funny of a mouth—like a chip off the old DNA.)  They had Fry in a bath with the only yellow rubber ducky in NNY.  Leela got in with him and Suzy held the hand shower and ran water over him as well as his engorged body part;  Leela held Fry in the shower while Susan rubbed herself against him as the hot water pelted down on all three; both women on either side held him by his arms and walked into the three foot surf at Atlantic Beach—the sun creating halos and rainbows around all three that the coast wind and seagulls could not disperse; they pushed his hand with a 1000gold chips onto to black ‘two’.  It stopped there; Fry did not jump up and down .  They took an old yellow cab—in the usual disarray, stains and odors, to the Battery and bought cotton candy, root-beer sno-cones, slices of pizzas and coney-islands with everything.  The ferry to the Ellis Island with gulls all around them in the bright sun and a surprising beautiful Jersy shore.  Suzy asked him, “Can I bring you more waffles, Sir?  Oh, did you think about what I asked you?”  Leela grabbed his hair in the bed and yelled that he had raped her.  Fry profoundly embarrassed and frightened her by curling up into a quivering fetal position and crying and Leela broke down and would not be consoled.  Both women and Nurse Cratchitt excitedly brought in a mixed breed dog that sounded extremely like Seymour.  The ersatz-Seymour licked Fry’s face and seemed sad when the red headed comatose man failed to acknowledge him.  Suzy strapped him in his Engineer Station seat and went to the moon and back, moving his hands on and over the dials—sometimes in obvious errors--and buttons.  Leela yelled obscenities at him and told him “wake up; grow up!!”  She told him ‘No, I will not go out with you.”  She told hold him Yes, I really do want to sleep with you; I thought you would never ask!!”  Leela ran him on the lunar ride and the happy whaler’s ride but to no avail.  Even sitting in the ancient lunar capsule that only they knew really did exist nevermind the exact location of, staring at the blue earth floating in the lunar sky with tears streaming down Leela’s face did nothing to wake him even when she put her heavily gloved hand between his well-padded legs.  The beautiful blue—so mysterious and peaceful from here with no hint of the hate and craziness--earth continued to float there and cast its earthshine on the two humans jammed into an ancient space craft.  From outside, in the freezing lunar night, you could see earthlight reflect off of Leela’s tears—it looked magical and peaceful too).  They were all represented out of the box thinking and thoughtful caring but they all failed equally.  The entire bizarre sequence was re-played, unshuffled and in real time in a bizarre nightmare with surrealistic images in his brain.  He had to be administered a triple dose of morphine from the resulting unwaking emotions.
     The Fry team-twenty of the best and certainly most interested--all sat around Christopher Brown’s conference table and continued to discuss him—as an in-vitro specimen, much to the dismay and anger of the two most beautiful women there.  Bender and Dr. Zoidberg had concocted a plan of re-booting him.  They had argued the previous day with Leela long into the night with a surprising amount of research done cum-physiological citations and with such genuine logic and caring that she finally did start to see some sort of logic and perhaps medicine there and agreed to propose it to Fry’s team.  It didn’t surprise her it was met with silence and a few scratched their heads.  Finally the two most senior said at the same time, “Well we’ve tried everything else.”  Brown played devil’s advocate forcing a series of judgements that led to the consensive conclusion and obvious hope that it probably wouldn’t hurt to try.  There was only a very small chance that the heart would not start back up at all but there was nothing that was actually suggesting it wouldn’t.  They ran a dry-run with stopwatches and a ‘Resuscitation Annie’ with a red wig and shirt first and then blocked the electrical firings of his heart for a ticked-off eight seconds and then artificially re-fired.  There was a pause.  Leela pushed Brown out of the way with considerably force and performed mouth to mouth on him and could not resist concluding with a gentle kiss on the lips.  The princess’ kiss restarted the heart seemingly enthusiastically and all functions returned to normal except that the patient continued his deep sleep.  Nurse Cratchitt wrote up the efforts clearly and impressively for both USEJAMA and Lancet; it was published in our English friends’ classic medical journal as her ninety second article/letter and was rapidly nearing a record.  The editors were scared to death they were going to have to acknowledge her and give her an award on their watch—the very same reason the blue flannel USEjammies refused to reply to even a précis.
     Leela awoke at almost two.  She had had a vivid dream of being with Fry and everything was wonderful and then he said something strange like it was time to come home now.  After waking and as the dream faded but Fry’s stayed clear, she recognized  it as a dream of the time she had been lost in a coma and only found her way out with the continual and ever droning of Fry talking to her.  Why hadn’t she thought of that before now?   She was about to wake Suzy and then realized if they both did it in shifts continually, they would have to sleep in shifts.  She got close to Fry’s ear and just started talking.  “Fry, come back now.  Please.  I need you so very much!”  “Fry, I need you!!”  “Philip, please wake up, please.”  “Fry, don’t leave me; I love you.”  She sped up when she realized Fry would not care if she said it differently each time.  She could repeat the same mantra over and over again.  Maybe it would even be more effective.  But maybe I would like it if it varied, “Fry, Suzy and I want you.  Fry, wake up please.  Come back to us.  We need your love.  We need you.”  At 7.45 Suzy heard the one sided conversation and woke and Leela told Suzy the story of the bee sting and the dreamlike states that would finally culminate in hearing Fry but not understanding…yet and then waking to the bedraggled and exhaust and obvious lover and carer of her.  At 8.00 Suzy took over and Leela carefully laid herself at Fry’s side and reached under the cover and slowly stroked him until her hand filled.  Suzy looked at the motions under the sheet and smiled at her and gave her a thumbsup and whispered in his ear, ‘That’s from me too, Sweetheart.’
     The bright yellow with pink trim on port and scarlet on starboard launch of the Nimbus pulled up alongside its mother ship.  The last of the old Chris Craft launches made of mahogany, thalidium fittings and fine craftsmanship: the crew cried for the whole time they brushed the disgusting yellow paint and uglier trim per Captain’s orders.  There was an interesting two-maybe three foot widow maker’s gap between the gently rocking launch and the huge cruiser that seemed to blot out the cumuli behind it as if they had finally met their match.  The pilot would have liked to make it two or three feet wider but wanted it to look like an accident if the terrible was to happen by chance and luck.  The pilot was one of Zap’s nameless best and a passenger sat in the well-padded rear seat with the naval jack whipping through the cigar smoke in the wind at rearmost aft.  The all-white clad sendoff crew of forty snapped to attention as the bos’n piped the order.  The held the salute while Zap straddled, and step back again and returned, each time just missing the foothold.  They released their salute when he failed to acknowledge the jack whipping in the aft.  The door swung violently open and the massive bulk of the captain’s stomach appeared followed by the rest of him and his XO, the long suffering Lieutenant Commander Kif.  “Kif, old man, beautiful day for a short jaunt to terryfirmy--my kind of place.  How ‘bout you, you slimy amphibian, are you ready for some bed-pool with that little sexy asian-states bitch of yours?  48 hours for us, Kif:  Well-earned relaxation after a grueling and deadly tour of 36 womenless months.  Makes a strong man go crazy, something you would know nothing about, you little twerp.”
    “Sir, it was only six months and there were twelve prostitutes on board most of the time not including your holographic women, Barbie and Leelatoo and your blow up bimbo, Linda Lovelace.”
     “Seemed like 48 months is what I obviously said.  Stick that tongue in there and clean out that disgusting wax.  Which reminds me, I have a couple of tasks yet for you to do prior to shore leave.  AND I’m extremely disappointed in you, Kif…yet again.  You failed to bring up the morale.  You did not announce general orders for a ship-wide scrubbing and outer hull barnacle and meteorite scraping with the appropriate elan.  The men, the backbone—excepting of course, the real spine: me—of this proud cruiser—are angry and downright mutinous with your botching the order for denial of general shore leave.  By the way, did you double lock my luscious Barbie away from their filthy little—comparatively speaking—dickies?  She’s only ever had four STDs from muy and I don’t want her despoiled--yet.”
     “Yes, Sir.  As pursuant to standing orders.”
     “Very good.  Glad to see you’re starting to get the hang of it.  Hmmm, look who has come to escort us to terryfirmy:  Fleet Admiral Jefferson.  Probably wants to pin another medal on my wide virile chest.  What say you, you puny 98 pound weakling?”
     “I hope he doesn’t pin it into your bra like the last time, Sir.”
     “It’s a brace, damn it,  brace for a…a….back, a bad back!”
     “A size 42D brace.”
     “For a bad back, damn it.  The old man’s eye sight is going, that’s what went wrong.  Probably about ready to retire.  More than likely he wants me to succeed.  See, there are new worlds for use to conquer.  You shall remain at my side and provide logistical and massoose support.  Let’s go down where he can gaze at my chiseled features.  No, Kif, the other side for maximum effect.”
     “Admiral Jefferson!!  So good of you to meet me.  Kif, get down on all fours and make a footstool for our four tired feet.  Snap to it, man.”  He strode aboard,  just about putting his left boot into the void again for twelfth time.  There were forty-three pairs of eyes that were disappointed yet again.  He walked past his crewman who stood ramrod straight and saluted him perfectly.  Zap ignored him as well.  Kif put his hand on his arm and slowly raised his other with his hand presenting the royal bird to the retreating wide backside.  The pilot grinned and added his.
     “You’ll note, Admiral, I keep a taught ship and my men ready for anything.  You, pilot.  I promote you to steward.  Bring two mimosas and a cup of lukewarm brackish water for Kif there on the floor.  Strike that, put his in a bowl with a straw and add a petal or two.”
     “Yes, I just noted the unique respect you generate amongst your men as you passed your pilot just now.  I especially enjoyed the casual technique you have perfected in saluting and acknowledging your faithful men Captain, I’ve come to initiate your annual review.”
     “That wiped off the broad smirk—so perfected by that horrible two-who could believe it??  Could the support by waning from that fickle-two timing president Bushy Bottoms the Younger?  Hmm, yes.  I look forward to the annual accolades.  By the by…”
     “Lieutenant Commander, stand up and sit on the other side of me.  I don’t suppose you want to sit next to the captain anymore than you would by any other piece of refuse.  I hope this tour was easier on you Commander.  Your Jobian penance is slowly coming to an end.  We shall have to have something special to make amends in the coming future.  Perhaps that might make the interminable wait a little more manageable.  Here, take my mimosa.  I’m a teetotaler myself and I expect my captains to be as well.  Some, it appears, never receive that advice and direct order.”  While up, he stretched his legs, knocked the ash off into the void and strolled up to the pilot.  “Next time, try for four feet; I shall still sign off on it as an accident,” and whistling, he strolled aft where the pompous blimp was berating his exec for obeying the Admiral’s command and thus sitting and placing his white dress Officer’s hat at the same height of that of his captain—higher actually since Zap was leaning over a little to ease the pain in the large gut from pigging out on four deep fat-fried triple cheese-burgers, deep fat fried French fries, and a dozen scoops of deep fat-fried apple pie a la mode.
     “I assume Admiral, that your niece had good reports of her highly enjoyable stay with us?  I killed the fatted puppy dog.  Delightful and beautiful girl.  I spotted the family resemblance immediately.  I showed her the entire ship including my highly classified orders involving the drewids, destruct sequence codes and the Nimbus blueprints.  You must be proud of your Sister’s?... or is it your brother’s child.”
     “What the hell are you babbling again about?  Both my wife and I are only children.  Something I’ve often wished upon your older brother.  I have no friggin’ niece.  And what was that about classified?
     “Er…ads sir.  I showed the strumpet the want ads.  Told her to go find an honest day’s job instead of trying pathetically to fool me…your captain, ha ha ha ha ha.”
     “When we get to port.  I want you to transfer your log to my personal mainframe.  I want to read about my niece and you showing her the Nimbus and whatnot.  We may include that in the sequential reviews along with the dry dock incident.  Pilot, could …”
     “Er, Admiral.  I quit keeping the silly thing—the log.  Too short of space to record my astounding feats and victories and way too much room for the mundane.  I didn’t bother you with this minor detail, due to your propensity of angina and some…
     “Sigh!!!  Yes, that was considerate.  I can feel it recurring.    Pilot, could you run this up to max speed—no, that was before, past maximum--speed within the limits of safety.  I’m developing a serious and highly nasty migraine.  He looked at Zap fiercely; must be something I ate or am about to.”
   “Commander, I believe you keep a readable personal log that is always interesting reading.  Please give me a copy of that before you leave this ship.  Regarding the Commander…we are going to drop the lieutenant portion of that right now.  I’m sorry I can’t additionally transfer you but quite frankly I don’t want to inflict any other person just yet.  I’m sorry it is your heavy cross to bear.  Are you free of your duties once we hit port?”
     “Sir!  Thank you, sir!  I only have to give the Captain a full body massage and scratch his butt and then I’m free to go, Admiral.”
     “I’m countermanding that disgusting order, Kif.  When or before we land, when you feel free to jump to the landing, you are so out of here.  I’ll deal with our Captain’s butt personally.   Enjoy your leave with your lovely fiancé, Ms. Amy.” 
     “Now captain, in your own words and please, please don’t make me laugh what with this angina pectoris, tell me what  transpired when the Nimbus went into the San Diego dry dock last September 23rd.  We have all day and tomorrow.  Let me set my watch’s recording unit.  Ok, begin.”  ‘Should be interesting if not funny’
   *****
     Spider Savitch climbed the old stairs in the Robot Arms.  He knocked on Fry’s door for a minute and then pulled his picks from his rear pocket and removed a small tool, inserted into the lock and within ten seconds opened the door.  It was still in the same state as the last time and obviously Fry was not here and may not have been here for some time.  He felt uneasy about the sleeping robot he had seen previously and he crept across the room and looked into the closet with partially open door.  It was a relief to see it empty.  He turned, walked to the door but it opened itself like it self-activated.  Bender stood in front of him.
     “Heh, heh.  Must have gotten the wrong floor again.  But his glanced at his door told he had not made any such mistake.  Doing some contract work are we skin tube?  I told your boss I was paying him tomorrow.  Bender realized he had never seen him before.  How much is that anyway, sausage fingers?” 
     “Uh, he said to forget about it.”
     “Did huh?  What your boss’s name?”
     “What?”
     “I said, who—that’s who to robots and crapholes like yourself and not whom to people I like and respect—who do you work for?  What’s his name.  Who told you to forget it?  You have five seconds before I activate my blow torch.”
     “Same guy that you owe the money to.  What?  You want to pay him anyway?  Ok, give me the cash.”
     “How much?”
     Bender’s fastened around Savitch’s neck and held him at arm’s length a foot off the ground and slowly increased the pressure until Spider’s eyes began to bulge.  “Jimmy the Gimp ain’t cancelled anyone’s debt ever, he broke his gramma’s knee cap and she made payments out of her social security for a year getting roughed up only every other week.  If I died, someone was gonna have to pay.  Maybe you.  Think you can pay?  But what I wanta know: if you die; who’s going to pay Jimmy?  You got any idea, Jerk Face?”
    “ Listen, you got this all wrong.  You belong to that Fry, right?  Well…”
     Bender’s hand tightened by another 25%.  His other hand slapped Silvitch across the purple face.  “Fry tell you that?  Or did you figure that out all by yourself?”
     “What?  WhadIsay?”
     “Fry owning me.”
     “Hey, I don’t know.  I don’t know how you guys got this arranged.  I just assumed, you know?  I’m sorry if I made a mistake.  Listen I got a note in my pocket from Fry.  That’ll explain it.”
     “Yeah?  The pressure was ratcheted down.  Let me see it.”
     “I can’t reach it.  Let me down.”
     Bender looked at him while he swallowed four quick times in succession with all of his chips firing in quick succession; he looked at the closed exit.  He slowly let him down until his feet hit the floor.
     Silvitch reached in his pocket and pulled out his blaster and pulled the trigger.  Smoke rose from Bender’s mouth, the eyes went blue, then green, faded and died.  The visor slowly closed.  There were blue electrical arcs all across his head and chest and a rusty, beery smell.  They slowed and died too.  Every joint went limp.  Silvitch smiled and asked no one except maybe Bender, “What crappin’ Asimov’s law was that?  Ha ha ha ha ha.  He then frowned, “God damn robots.  Never should have been allowed.  Time to  get rid of them.”
     There was a subtle hum and then small and slight chime.  Something had just rebooted.  Silvitch looked around, but didn’t see…
     Bender’s eyes opened, they burned blue and switched to bright bloody red.  His arm whipped out faster than Silvitch could run, lifted him and brought him back in front of his very irate face.  “Look fudgeface, I think you just managed to PmeO, you know?  Bender slapped him three times and then punched him several inches below his belt.  The robot purposefully walked into the hall way and walked up the stairs dragging Silvitch who was trying to grab onto anything and everything.  His head hit every riser until they got to the roof and then skidded over three inch overlapped steel sheets.  Bender dragged him to the edge and stood on the ledge.  “Ok crap-for-brains, adding four feet due to this ledge you just about see at your eyeball level, you are one hundred sixty four feet from the sidewalk, toes anyway.  How many feet above that sidewalk are your arms going to turn into wings?  How bout if I threw you up into the air and added say ten feet, whadyathink?  Should we go find a taller building?  Or maybe you got another note you wanta show me, huh?  I think you owe me, oh, for a detailing and some aspirin and a six pack…oh make it an even thousand.  You got that on you?  Or do you need me to put you down?”  He held him out over the edge and jiggled him. 
     “I got a thousand.  It’s in my back pocket.”
     Ok, reach back there and try not to stick your fingers in the wrong place and get them all dirty and pull out the thousand.
     Spider reached oblivious to any mess.  His face fell—actually from his position, upside down, it was more of a smile.
     “Oh did I forget to mention that I kind of emptied that right after your special shot to the head.  So, you could say, not any more.  I guess I meant did you have another thousand?  Oh, and don’t say the other back pocket.  It’s gone, too.  I always wanted to fly, what about you, twit?”
     Silvitch looked down.  It was more than a minute before he spoke again.  “Ok you stupid pile of crap.  Either let me down or drop me.  I’m getting tired of hanging around.  Was your mother a can opener.  The can I opener I flushed down the toilet after I whizzed on it and maybe sort of raped it.  Kind of wanted to forget ‘cause it was as ugly as sin..  Kinda looked like you or do you take after your ugly father?”
     Bender’s face went from neutral to smoking.  His hand opened wide and wiped his hand on the side of his hip and Silvitch went straight down-9.8m/sec2.  Since there was a vicious downdraft, Bender quickly and roughly figured he was going,…, uh…
     160 ft/sec…what?  That ain’t right, he’s got another hundred some forty feet yet to fall…
     Straight down about twenty feet before landing on a little blimp that was slowly moving up the street in front of a marching band and pretty girls and ten robots on go-carts doing wheelies.  He hung on for dear life.  Bender stood on the roof and swore. 
     There were only a few more blocks of the parade left.  The little blimps were tethered and the bands dispersed, the trombone players’ arms around the flautists and trying to grab a feel of some red and white canvas cum brass buttons covered breasts.  One bass drummer was curled up with a cute majorette smoking a joint and trying to get into her pants.  Savitch only had to move to another slightly lower and another one and was then able to make a short leap to a balcony and he climbed down to the street.  Spider never  considered luck or if he did it was, ‘well, you make your own luck; it’s never just a gift.’  So he was more thinking that he was still one hot-shot dude to be able to get out of dire straights.  He nodded to the base drummer who had finally hit paydirt.  It was then he noticed the tall blond street walker across the street walking like she wanted what the majorette was getting bad and smiling at him.  Maybe the excitement or some primal urge awakened but he had to have her for brunch; he was starving.  He took one step into the street to sprint across the artery to negotiate a date when he was hit by four scooters flying inches off the street like purple bats out of hell.  The kids on them looked back and laughed.  Spider went flying into the windshield of a 48m ton mover coming from the other way at 55km/hr.  He never corrected his statement about the hot-shot dude.
     Kif walked into the lounge carrying two dozen long stem red roses—Amy’s favorite.  She screamed at the top of her voice causing the Professor to forget what he was doing and proceeded to pour 60ml of concentrated HCl into a liter of pure 20 degree C H20  The subsequent mini explosion, splattering, steam, fumes and classic old-school swearing was magnificent for the Professor-watchers.  All the U-Tube hits totaled over two billion that night.  Amy and Kif never heard much of anything they were busy try to swallow the other’s lips.  “Oh Kiffy, I’ve missed you so much.  “Do you know how much, Kif?”
     “I don’t know but it would be reasonable to assume that it would be something proportionate to the square my strained emotions of missing you, my love.” 
     “Maybe.  Did you miss me this much?”  She reached under his short tunic and cupped and squeezed the little green sac and rapidly rising body part through his official DOOP officer’s fantex shorts—“hmmm, an impressive amount!”  She slipped out of his embrace, grabbed his hand and pulled him up the gang plank headed for Fry’s cabin. 
*****
     Amy told Kif everything she knew of Fry, Leela and Suzy:  “The neurologists have given up; everyone has tried everything.  The girls are trying to talk him back to consciousness now?”
    “ Can we go over and see him?  How about smells like flowers, might that help?”
     “I was just thinking of going over before you walked back into my life.  What a wonderful surprise, darling!  They tried everything from the sublime to something like Zap’s arm pits and groin.”
     “God, that would either raise the dead or kill the Risen—and nothing?   Let’s go see Fry.”  And he told her of being made full commander with a promise that eventually he would would be relieved of his decaying albatross.!”
     “Well, he did grimace but did not wake up.  Oh, Commander Kiffy, that is wonderful.  Now we can get married!”
     “Not unless you want to make it a ‘manage-a-screwed-up-trois.  I still have to serve Captain Zap for a while longer.  ‘While’ is one of those convenient words that sounds terribly short and doable but can be an eternity or more.  Soon, well someday, maybe a while, my love.” 
*****
     The paramedics could not find any identification of the near-dead-multi-compound fractures and massive trauma--Spider.  They put him in the back of their ambulance flight and consulted their notebook.  “Says this one is for Claussen Kosher Beth-I.  Hit the lights Charlie and the rocket fuel.  5:2 we got a DOA.  But we can score a couple of koshers and garlics in the dox lounge!”
     “Hey sweet, long-legged Sally at CKBI, ER.  This is Billy.  Ace Air Ambulance NNY number sixty four in your program, number one in your heart!!!!  Open your incoming gates, you got visitors in well less than a minute.  You guys hit the jackpot—no ID!  You can run a gazillion tests two or three times each and have seven unneeded surgeries.  White male, mid fifties maybe.  Trauma everywhere but massive head injuries and loads of compounds; maybe a DOA.  Better have a neurodoc and an assistant coroner standing around—they do that well anyway.  You wanta go out after it calms down?  Would you let me sleep with you if I promise to snore in key this time.  My wife left me again.  Thirty two seconds and say yes.  Oh, grab us each about a dozen garlics—no koshers…Oh, I got the big V so forget ‘bout protection, you get the real me.  Please with whip cream on it or in it, Sweetie.  See you in fifteen seconds:  ‘Open the door, you dirty ol’ whore/ It’s Barnacle Bill, the Sailor!’  I’m not going back to her, this time…ever.  I promise and I do or shall, anyway.  Out.”

[Reply #47 on:]

     “Hey sweet, long-legged Sally at CKBI, ER.  This is Billy.  Ace Air Ambulance NNY number sixty four in your program, number one in your heart!!!!  Open your incoming gates, you got visitors in well less than a minute.  You guys hit the jackpot—no ID!  You can run a gazillion tests two or three times each and have seven unneeded surgeries.  White male, mid fifties maybe.  Trauma everywhere but massive head injuries and loads of compounds; maybe a DOA.  Better have a neurodoc and an assistant coroner standing around—they do that well anyway.  You wanta go out after it calms down?  Would you let me sleep with you if I promise to snore in key this time.  My wife left me again.  Thirty two seconds and say yes.  Oh, grab us each about a dozen garlics—no koshers…Oh, I got the big V so forget ‘bout protection, you get the real me.  Please with whip cream on it or in it, Sweetie.  See you in fifteen seconds:  ‘Open the door, you dirty ol’ whore/ It’s Barnacle Bill, the Sailor!’  I’m not going back to her, this time…ever.  I promise and I do or will, anyway.  Out.”
*****
     Amy knocked on the door.  The young security man who was in love with her opened it wide.  But started it closing when he saw Kif.  Amy sweet talked her fiancé in without a patdown and a third degree.  They looked at the hospital bed with the wired Fry and its other occupants.  Both women were tightly curled around him with their arms over him as they all lay on the bed asleep.  Young-security whispered they still had been calling him back up to five minutes ago when it was replaced by a low snore.  Amy hugged herself and then Kif.  “Isn’t that precious, Kif: so romantic.  Would you lie with me on my death bed and talk to me?”  Kif pointed out, that Fry was not dying…yet.  She whispered to Young-security, would you call me if there is any change?”  She gave him her personal phone number and he smiled.  She saw the broad smile and said, “Anytime.”
     Kiff looked at her just a little funny then shrugged and mused to himself, ‘That is definitely my Amy; she was that way when I met her, she was that way when I asked her to marry me so why the fudge should I expect any different woman now; get use to it Amphibian or sign up for twenty-five more long ones with the prick, Cap’n Zippo; she’s still yours, if you’re Amphib enough to have her and keep her happy, barefoot and preggers—what a family we shall have!’
*****
     Doctor Switchwhich finally stopped Spider’s internal hemorrhaging in surgery and quickly and competently closed him up.  Get him of lots of fluids, synthetic painers and ABCthroughG and monitor his heart and kidneys.  He’s back to an even odds now—quite an improvement and lots and lots of billable hours.  Two years worth of boat and rocket payments.  There were seven more procedure necessary, depending on outcomes, and he and admin were planning about a dozen more…just to be on the safe and lucrative federal payments side.
     His favorite surgical nurse looked at him and said, “That sucks!  Why don’t you let your wife play with the unpaid boat and we take off with that money?”
     The surgeon muttered, “Hypocratic Oath.”
     Linda muttered back, “You mean the hypocritic oath!!?  And angrily pulled off her plastogloves and snapped his butt with one, her hands white with damp talc.  She thought, ‘This was it—ten minutes of no foreplay and the last time.  Leave her and love me or …ask that hairy orderly if you can move in with him.  See how you like it up there with no lube?’  Spider or anybody would best be advised:  Get a new surgeon for the next procedure or two or three unless he was giving you a poo or trimming your hair—the bandages drying in the wind outside were definitely going to be very red.
*****
     Fry was sitting at his engineering station of the ship.  He felt rested and it was great to be up and back at work.  Leela smiled over at him.  He still wasn’t entirely used to her being in love with him.  It was a wonderful surprise every time he thought about it but it was still a surprise.  Suzy—his biggest surprise--walked up behind him and put her arms around him and kissed the side of his lips.  She butterflied her eyelashes against his and then sat down beside him strapping herself in.  He excused himself.  At first he thought he headed to the head and he reached the hallway where it was but suddenly turned down the hallway.  He climbed up into the upper passageway that would take him to the upper hold.  It was jam packed with alien signage and in weird shapes.  Bender was there rifling though the parcels with a wake of broken, opened contents behind him.  “Bender!!  God-damn it.  We can’t make delivery of these in this shape.”
     “Chill skin-tube.  We already made delivery.”  He thrust the signed and notarized receipts in his face.  He looked up from the hundreds of receipts and Bender was gone.  Amy was there sitting on the packages in her bra and panties.
     “Fry, I really, really missed you when you broke up with me.  Why don’t you give me another chance?  She had already unbuckled his belt and was pulling his pants off.  Amy got on her knees and licked her lips, opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out.  “You are going to feel so good…so wonderful that you won’t remember the names of those women.  What are their names, Fry?”
     “Whadyamean, what are their names?  You know their names, they’re…?”  He couldn’t remember Leela’s name or Suzy’s.  He started sweating.  It had gotten so hot in here.  Amy was naked now and was sucking each of his toes and running her tongue between them.  She took the other foot and put it between her breasts.  He had to open a door--anything, it was too hot.  There was  no door back to the hallway.  There was no Amy.  He tried to open a porthole even knowing the pressure differential would suck him out and evert the ship but he couldn’t quite turn the latch.  Amy came up, now fully dressed in a beautiful evening gown and tried to help him.  She tapped his shoulder, “Listen, what’s that.  Is that coming from out there?”  He put his ear to the porthole.  The glasstex was freezing but he could plainly hear Leela:  Fry!!  Please come back, I need you!”  He turned to look at Amy.  She was gone.  He violently pounded against the porthole but it refused to budge.  He fell to the floor and crawled into a vent to just doze for a minute.  There were minute scampering of tiny feet and claws on his face , neck, hands, and arms.  For some reason his lower half was immune to the rats swarming over him.  As they increased in numbers and started chewing his eye lids and nose he finally saw the reason for his immune legs—they were hanging outside the space ship.  Amy, dressed in Leela’s opera dress was trying to pull him in.  She was making progress but she kept stopping to kiss him and the vacuum would begin to suck him out again.  It felt like he was struggling in quick sand.  He yelled at Amy to stop kissing him and she cried and morphed into Bender and Hermes who were trying to push him out.  He kept asking why and Bender said he needed room for more beer and with Hermes it was room for more cargo.  He was fully in the void except for his finger tips.  Bender was pounding them with this huge hammer when he felt Amy attach a hook to his neck, pulled a huge red lever and a chain started dragging him back with a groaning that maybe was pulling the universe back to where it belonged; he heard someone calling for him just on the edges of the rumbling—maybe Suzy, he thought.  He finally stood up—inexplicably free.  Amy was on her back naked and calling for him with legs wide apart.  He stumbled over to her and he fell over a package and everything went black and he no longer knew where he was other than it was freezing.  He tried to push his entire self into the little asian-states girl; he shivered himself back to sleep which finally came unattached to weird and scary dreams.
*****
     A pair of nurses carefully transferred Spider from his OR gurney to the bed.  The young nurse was talking to him but his mind was too addled still from the anesthetics, he could not understand a thing she said or asked.  He closed his eyes and immediately was asleep as if someone flicked his switch.  He had no idea where he was or who he was, for that matter.
*****
     Chief of staff, Dr. Christopher Brown, rapped on the door and pushed aside two security women before they were aware of whom was doing it.  He was carrying three fine Spode rose chintz china bowls of ice cream and dangerously angled heavy-Ag soup-spoons and sat down on the chair.  He touched Leela on the shoulder, she jumped and then looked at him.
     “Any room in there, for one more?”
     “For you Doc, we’ll make room.”
     “He chuckled, I’m afraid you just might.”  He handed her a bowl and a spoon.  “Wake up the doctor and give her that.  Don’t spill it, ‘cause you’re not getting mine.  Don’t steal the spoons.  These are from a set I usually sew up inside my patients.”
     Leela reached over and pressed Suzy’s hand.  In a minute she handed her the- ice cream.  “Doc, wants to get in and make it a foursome.  You up to that?”
     “Hell, when I was younger, I could have taken you all on after an all-nighter.  I don’t think I got it in me at the moment.  Give me twenty seconds:  Maybe the ice cream has restorative powers.”
     Doctor Brown said, “If it did, I would still be a frisky young buck and I would not have bothered to ask, I’d a been in there alapping.  You guys still hanging in there?  There’s a neuro-psychologist in my office.  He wants to try a treatment with Fry.  I was skeptical but he is board-certified psycho and I told him I’d ask you.  He wants his Fry’s mother to talk to Fry.”
     Both women looked at each other and said, “What?”
     “Exactly.  He says he can create the image from his memory which he can manipulate--he says.  I understand he’s had some success; he also says there is some risk.”
     “Risk?”
     “One of four was not able to respond in the confines of the stupor and he became psychotic in his frustrations.  There was a similar response from another although to a much lesser degree.  Says he cannot predict this.  Two were rather spectacular successes.  I remember reading in American Psychotherapy and Cherry Picking.  Don’t ask, maybe it’s a euphemism.  I gather from your conversations with me that Mr. Fry had a fairly normal healthy relationship with his mother; that should help.  On the other hand, subconsciously, he may have quite the issue with mom and it could really backfire.  It also, of course, might not do anything.  It’s up to you.  The state is paying as with everything else.  They seem to relish these weird things.”
     Leela said, “I say no. That little risk is too much risk for me but I am going to defer to Sooz, whatever she thinks, I’ll go along 110%.  I’m not used to be impulsive although I guess you couldn’t tell from looking at all of us here but I suspect Suzy will want some time to think about this.
     “Nope.  I agree with you: any is too much.  Tell your psycho we’re grateful, but no.”
     “I am glad you decided against the procedure:  sounds too weird and iffy to me—sort of thing I usually lap up:  Like that ice cream or either of you.  Speaking of which, you girls enjoy my ice cream?  I cranked it myself.  I can’t stand that commercial crap and lord knows what they try to  get awal with thickener and filler.  Next time, I shall bring some, ta-ta-taaa:   Chocolate-rum-strawberry.  That should raise the Fry, too.  You girls go back to sleep with your man.  I’ll see what I can do about getting a larger bed in here and maybe a sofa bed too although it would be nice if you didn’t need them.  Be back early tomorrow and count and collect my spoooons.”
     Leela and Susan responded in unison, Thanks, Doc. Brown,  ‘nite.
*****
     Nurse Cratchett changed the IV bag of Patient Tommy Doe, 127—the one hundred and twenty seventh patient that had unknown identity at the time of treatment.  She was looking forward to having some of her younger nursing staff administering some ‘needed’ procedures that they were not experienced with yet.  It surprised when he opened his eyes.  She assumed the amount of sedation he was under, it would be quite a while before he became lucent.
     “Wh…wh..who arrr ya?  Wh..Where am I?  What da-aay is it?”
     “You are on seventeenth floor of Claussen Kosher Beth Israel Medical Center—Hear o Israel… Oh screw that.  I’ll tell you who I am if you tell me who you are.”
     “You don’t know who I…I ammm?”
     The pain shut him down but Nurse Ratchett swore she thought he smiled before closing his eyes.
*****
     “Suzy asked, “Are you going to eat Fry’s food or do want to go out with me or bring something back?”
     “Hey, they know he’s not going to eat it; they know it’s for me; with what I pay in city sales tax, NNY  can damn-afford it.  Besides, you get to eat in the doctor’s private dining room.”
     “Leela, please don’t say it like that.  I wasn’t criticizing you or the hospital.  I think it’s nice they’re trying to look after you.  I only ate one time with Christopher and that was because he was lonely.  I almost invited Cratchett as my guest.  They probably would have pulled my ‘credentials and license’ and besides, it’s the same food only served without a tray and on china and you get to buy a diet dr. pepper at four times the going rate if you don’t like classic coke or watered down milk like I don’t.  I guess I was just hoping we could go out together and, well, be together for a little while without the pagings and security.  Maybe hold hands without somebody throwing up.”
     “Oh, girlfriend!  I’m sorry.  I’m just getting tired of talking to Fry when it’s not doing a damn.  I know he did it to me tirelessly but it would nice if there was a little hope.  You don’t seem to get tired or sick of it”
     “Gee, do you think it’s because you do it twice as much as I do?  And maybe the emphasis and changing your voice and changing your script have anything to do with it?  If…damn!  When Fry pull out of it, it’s going to be because of you, sweet lady.  Leela, Fry had to have felt the same way at least some of the time.  You’re doing the best possible and I kinda think he’s making some progress.”
     Yeah, seriously?  What kind of progress?
     “Like right now.  See his eye lids moving up and down: REM sleep: he’s having dreams.  Fry has dreamt more recently than he used to.  Maybe from our talking to him.”
     “Go dreams!!  Dream about waking up, Fry!  I could use some good food, no paging, good company and some serious hand holding; I would love to go with you and maybe more?  Let me get a Fry sitter.”  “Hey you, the good looking guy…Yeah, right!!…Fred…come here.  Now, sit here.  Question:  What emergency procedure is administered through the ear?  Give up?  Speaking comfort and encouragement: talk to the patient—you’ve had to hear some of it.  We’ll be back ‘fore you know it.  Now start administering emergency aid.”
     *****
     Fry was in the infamous salt mine of Tatooine.  What he did to be sentenced to life there?  He couldn’t quite remember but it must have been a very serious affront to the old Empire—murder, rape, bad mouthing the Emperator; he kept trying to remember.  But there was so much to forget:  Leela whom he had loved continuously for over ten years.  Every once in a while, despite his best efforts to forget, he heard her calling him—as if!  And then there all those dreams about a mystery woman who kept revealing herself like pealing the thinnest layers off an onion: like peeling the layers of silk off of her beautiful body.  He had never met anyone as intelligent and gifted as Leela before. ‘Is she a composite of all the good things of the women I have known before they turned ugly before my eyes—turned ugly and ‘ordered me out of their lives, their bodies, their warmth?’  ‘God it was cold here.’  ‘Wait, there it was again—they mystery woman’s voice calling me like Leela does.  She has to be everywoman—everything good, everything that I need and want.’  ‘Cold and dark!  If I keep walking I have to come to some light…a flicker…just before I fall into a chasm that goes down to the other side of this god-forsaken planet. Wait…!  No, that’s some electrical flash from my optic nerves—it just looked like a flash of light.  How bright would my soul seem in these pits…that little throbbing light of pure energy, energy from the very first implosion of the universe: the big bang.  It would be a beacon, so bright that I would have to squint and shield my eyes.  That is why I don’t see it; my soul fled my body when I was cast down here.  I shall never see it again.  Oh Leela, if you only have let me loved you, I would have shown you what the light of two souls entwined would be like.  A beacon?  The bloody sun imposed upon the moon and the stars.  If only….’  ‘What the fudge?  Hermes…?  There is no Jamaican accent that overwhelms you.  Kif?  Not possible, there is no question mark at the end.  Not possible that that is the Professor calling.  It hasn’t yet forgotten once what it was calling.  Nor Zap for he calls me and not himself.  Bender would care.  My best friend would call me.  Bend…der would have appropriated all my stuff by now and what he couldn’t use, he would sell and what he couldn’t sell, he would trash…pour it down the sewers into Lake Mutant.  The male voice I hear calling myself has to be me.  Ha ha ha ha ha aaaah…damn, the joke’s on me;  I don’t know the friggin’ way out; I don’t know where I am and for that matter, why would I even care.  Leave me alone voice…let me sleep, voice…..let me sleep, let me dream no more…..let me sl….’
*****
     Only feet from the comatose Fry, Spider was also dreaming.  His brother was watching him eat.  He had walked in on him.  From where, god knows where.  ‘And I saw the pure disgust on his face…like this could not be, at least by choice, his little brother—the little kid he had played with, given dutch rubs to—taught him how to throw a fast ball and the difference between cleaning a bull catfish and a rainbow—no way in hell.’  ‘Why, just then.’  ‘Why did he have to hate me as much as I hate myself.  Why.’  ‘I always knew, from the very, very start that it was  not fair…but this…this is not…’ and smoke and laser-burnt air and ozone and phosgene drifted over Parthos and there was nothing.  Spider was someplace black and silent as Fry.  Maybe it was same salt mine but he knew without knowing it that he had not been sentenced yet…that was coming followed by hell.
     Ratchett led four young girls all dressed in gleaming starched white and showed how to sponge the sweat and oil from the broken body.  How to wipe the forehead without ripping open the raw wound below.  How to put a few ice chips on his tongue.  “This man may be the devil incarnate or a heaven sent angel to avenge the sins  of the so many god-damned wicked in this ugly city.  But we don’t know.  AND if we did know…what Mary Jane, what we do?”
     “We…”
     “Not to me.  I know the answer.  I can tell you know it.  Tell it to your fellow nurses.”
     “We would not do anything different.  It would not matter.”
     “Mary Jane!  Why the fudge not???!”
     “Because we heal.  Judging is for someone else and we all should pity them and him if that is the case.”
     “You three!  Did you hear that?  Sear that in your little useless brains.  Your friend and co-nurse  speaks the truth and has wisdom beyond all of our years.  It-doesn’t-make-any-difference.”
     “Kathy?  This broken man wakes and you are powerless to do anything and he rapes and then kills the lovely girl next to you, Nancy Wheaton—full of promise and SOMEDAY, I hope, will become a nurse…a god-damned REAL nurse…not what you read about in books—that racist ugly bitch NIGHTENGALE or movies—god forbid the movies.  Damn you all if you believe that crap.  This broken man rapes and murders your friend.  What do you do?”
     “I….I… I..I don’t know.”
     “Nor shall you ever.” 
     “Louise, what do YOU do?”
     “I call security first.”
     “OK   And…?”
     “And when security… when they handcuff him, put him six point restraints and chain him to the bed.  I make sure I know security’s by heart and I double check his restrains, inspect them but only call security to adjust them.  I give my recommendation to security and record the time, whom I was talking to and their response.  I inform them; I do not order them.  I can tell them any injury or death, they are directly responsible for any oversight or negligence.  I take his vitals and make sure they are recorded.  If he isn’t seen by a doctor within fifteen minutes, I call my head nurse and after 30 minutes, I inform the chief of staff.  I verify whether they need either food or drink.  If they indicate pain is too severe I may give at my discretion one pill extra dose  beyond next scheduled administration.  I wipe his forehead and bring him some ice water and help him sip it through a straw and clean the bruises security will have invariably left and I shall pity him and forgive for raping my friend and killing my co-nurse.”
     “And…  And what else Louise?  Forgiving is fine.  Forgiving is divine.  What the fudge else?”
    “ I won’t forget.”
     “Bingo.  Kathy!!!  Did you hear any of that?  Did you friggin’ understand any of it?  Well?”
     “Yes.  I take care of business, I administer caring healing procedures if I can, I forgive and I remember what has happened so it might not happen again to me or to a dear friend and fellow nurse.”
     “Kathy!  Blessed be the light.  Maybe there is hope after all.  All you girls:  get out of here.  Go find some cute boys but I swear to god and I will ream you out proper so it doesn’t happen again…do NOT get pregnant.  Consider it a teaching opportunity to some idiot man.  Now go.  Leave me alone, please.”
     “They get worse every year.”
    “ Nurse?  Were they worse than you?”
     “Hah.  I was the densest and most hopeless of my class.  My head nurse swore I would never earn this pin…oh god…forty years ago.”
     “How did you know I would rape and kill Nancy Wheaton?”
     You’ve got that look of your boss about you.  No…your other boss.  And he’s coming to collect some day.  You know that don’t you?”
     “Friggin’ A, nurse: sure as those little girls will all be nurses and shall administer to me like I deserved it.  It’s really not fair.”
      “No kidding.  You just didn’t figure that out did you?”
     “I wish!  I’m going back t…”
     “There’s another conversation you will never remember.  And you also look just like the angel.  It’s what comes out of your mouth that enables me to tell the difference:  you are an angel…an angel of death.  We are to forgive but by god, I won’t forget and neither should you.” 


(new installment tomorrow just in time for Sunday brunch:)

[Reply #48 on:]

     Nurse Cratchitt burst into Spider’s room with a hum on her lips and a song in her heart.  She smiled at Spider who was looking at her with interest from his bed.
     “Med time:  ‘O frabjous day.  Caloo Calay!’”
     “’Beware the jabberwocky. my son, er, daughter: The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!’”
     “Mr. John Doe, you know your Lewis Carrol?  Are you the Royal Executioner or the Queen of Hearts who does the frequent but not unnecessarily unneeded commanding?”
     He looked at her curiously for a couple of minutes, blinking, trying to remember.  “If I were either, I probably would be both but still hated by the queen.”
     “Do we hate those who do our dirty work?  Do we hate ourselves who does the same?  Or only by our virgin superiors who are above such filth?”
     “Most certainly, the middle but points for the latter.  We never give ourselves medals or advancement.  But then neither do the virgins…much, anyway.”
     “Mr. Doe, it sounds to me as if you are speaking of experience—bitter experience.  Do you know what you are talking of?”
     “No Nurse Cratchitt.  I am most certainly right-on but I don’t have a clue as to what or why.  Is not that curious?”
     “I shall inform the psychiatrist but I suspect while it is curious, it is hardly specifically significant.
     “Psychiatrists!!”  He made an obscene gesture and spat on the floor much to the consternation and horror to the nurse who was already mentally phoning a hazmat woman and setting some uv lights… they are idiots and self-important charlatans.  Pay them no heed and give them no trust.  They just play games for their own amusement.
     “And if you don’t mind, I’ll include that observation as well.  Do you remember undergoing therapy, Mr. Doe?”
     “Therapy!”  He spat again.  This evoked no response from Cratchitt.  Two spots were as easy to clean as one.  She knew this from too many years of nursing.  “Torture, more like it!!!” 
     “And…?”
     “I don’t want to talk about it, Cratchitt!”
     “Curious.”
     He glared at her and with a burst of energy that surprised both of them, he rolled over and closed his eyes.
     “Ok, meds can wait one hour, but no later.  A new nurse—one of her students--would never have averred this. She picked up her cute little pink tray, turned, turned off the bed globe and closed the door and indicated ‘do not disturb’.
*****   
     Oddly enough, Leela was throwing the same bolt in her door: ‘do not disturb unless for medication, treatment, or response.’  A few minutes earlier, she had walked in from a short run outside in the woods and came upon Suzy on the floor pounding it with her fists and wailing.  Leela kneeled down and hugged her and tried like hell to determine if anything specific was the matter.  No, unfortunately it was the inconsolably the long accumulation of hurt, frustration, fear and anger that finally got to her.  Leela held her like a fragile baby for a long time, stroking her hair, kissing her red and teary eyes and after ten minutes leaned down and kissed her on the lips.  They embraced on the floor and rolled over the entire floor that was not taken up with a bed, cabinets, cables, machines, and waste basket.  Suzy ripped her outer clothes off and had just reached for her bra.  Leela whispered, “One moment, please.” and jumped to her feet.  Naked, she told security to play cards outside their door.  They stared at her breasts and quietly withdrew walking backwards, still staring at her body.  Leela rolled her eyes—“come back in when the sign changes--threw the bolt, closed the door and turned the lights off.  She hurried back.
*****
     Spider’s dreams had been almost continuous since his unfortunate airborn encounter with a speeding 400m ton hauler.  They continued into his waking daylight and usually he was unable to tell reality from the more real terrible dreams.  He lay back, comfortable with his nested on a thin swisstex self-adjusting and regulating pillow—a state of the art medical supply Cratchitt had no idea how they had muddled along without.  Spider watched himself, almost as if he was munching on popcorn and Dots, turn the heat up on his old brass Svea, take Cratchitt’s left breast out of a glass bowl of very cold lemon, garlic, sweet white wine, salt, white pepper & balsamic marinade, put it on a small oak and maple cutting board framed by molybidium steel and thinly slice the breast and transfer it to the little brass skillet with a few capers and chives.  He quickly turned it and put it next to a very white Spode china plate already with a small pile of saffron rice and leeks.  He sipped from a Waterford goblet of sauterne and thinly sliced the pinkish rare breast and put it in his mouth.  He threw up.  Both in his dream and in his hospital bed.  He aspirated maybe a TBL of the vomit—which he would have sworn was Cratchitt’s breast.  He coughed and coughed.  Through watered eyes, he tried to find his buzzer and only found it after giving up.  He could not breathe.
     The big blonde Danish-state nurse performed a Heimlich maneuver on him under the watchful eye of Nurse Cratchitt.  She nodded as he expelled in violent breaths a mist of bile and something that once had been food—she was just as well ignorant of what Spider thought it was.  Silva washed him and changed his tshirt and carefully combed his hair.  Cratchitt mentally checked off an internal skills sheet.  They held him more upright in bed and gave him cold diet seven up.  It was at this time that Spider Savitch took his eyes off the large Dane—princess of Denmark, lover of her roommate Ophelia, and saw Cratchitt.
     He screamed.  Before hiding his face, he scanned her chest and was not able to detect any recent mastectomy.  Had this been a dream?  With his eyes tightly closed he grabbed the woman nurses’ hand,  “Please, please forgive me.  I have no idea why I did that.  I did not mean to hurt you.  I had no intention of offering it or forcing it down your throat.  You’ve only been nice—hell on your wards but kind to me.  I don’t know why.  I am evil.  Please kill me nurse.  Please,  now while no is here.  The blonde will help you.  Blondes have reason to help you.  Please. Now Now Now and as the nows became less frequent and loud.  He fell back asleep to the same disturbing dreams of blood and body parts.
     Nurse Cratchitt looked at the startled and shaken Silva.  “Silva, I want to commend you on your quick, precise and accurate procedures all performed without thinking.  I am going to pass you, one week shy of this program.  Go home, see your boyfriend, take precautions as I always inform my charges, rest, relax and wait for your letter cum pin.  It will have your assignment.  Please do me a favor and do not write Mr. Doe’s words in his file and leave within the hour. There are mover passes in my top desk drawer for all of you.  I want to think about this first—long and hare.  I shall write it up.  Now get out of here and congratulations.  Silva left amazed.  The last week was legend for its brutal difficulty—the attrition rate among highly motivated and intelligent almost-nurses in the last week was 62%.  She skipped to her locker and upon opening it, had forgotten all about Spider.
*****
     Leela’s tongue brought the paroxysm to Suzy.  She arched her back and screamed.  Cratchitt looked up from across the hall, took one step forward and stopped in her tracks.  She smiled broadly, looked at the ‘do not disturb’ sign and hugged herself.  ‘You go, girl!’  Despite their obvious beauty and innate dripping sexuality, she still imagined Sir Christopher Brown, MA, MS, MS, RCS, MD, PhD, PhM, OBE on top of her.
     The same scream entered the subconscious of Philip J Fry.  He had been dueling with the long-dead worm-king with slashing sabers.  Fry was clad in a dark blue spider silk shirt with wide sleeves with pearl buttons, hip black leather boots with a suede jerkin and wide plumed hat and fine linen breeches.  A bright red woolen scarf kept winding itself about the worm’ sword.  Fry periodically looked down for either a joystick or a controller only to look up at the final second.  He had just parried—looking the king in the eye and whispering its ear—worms have ears??--‘hasta in hell, muthfu!’ on Leela’s final uplick and lunged—as Leela pulled up for a microsecond and then thrust her mouth and lips and probing tongue further into Suzy, just before the scream.  The saber entered the heart perfectly bisecting it on the onset of the scream and the worm continued for ‘bout twenty-Suzy induced seconds.  It sounded somewhat erotic in its death.  If they had listen carefully instead of breathing heavily with constant sucking and kissing sounds, one or both would have heard that ‘hasta muthfu’ or what was to follow.  The girls would have wisely said that they would have voluntarily foregone the first utterance of Fry but would have gladly given up their passion to have been alert for the second:  He called very softly, ‘Leela, where are you?…I need…y…’
*****
Cratchitt sent the remaining sixteen women home for the weekend.  “Rest and for gods sakes, be careful and safe.  You’re all smart enough to know what I’m talking about and dumb enough to forget it.  Rest, love your families, sleep, and hint: read the short article ‘Important Fundamentals of Nursing by Zimmy Wryklerght,BS.MS,PhD: Nurse of Africa for almost sixty harrowing years.  That will do you more good than me scaring the hell out of you here this weekend.”  “Prepare for hell week 5.45hours Monday and may you all survive, please.”   Not knowing that Silva had done it just hours earlier, all skipped to their lockers and were gone shortly after the last locker slammed shut.  They would all graduate mostly thanks to the generous and wise hint.  The first class to do so well before Cratchitt’s pin being placed over her left breast by her both ironically beloved and hated teacher.
*****
      Burkhart  slipped in three fine steel pins with just the right tensile strength to accommodate the extra pins and with one hand carefully manipulated them.  An early morning when he was seven he carefully picked up a canyon wren; it lay in his palm and his other hand barely touched it but he was thrilled by the clearly perceptible heart beats, pulses and muscle tics and quiverings of the small bird—each part of it was so alive and was transmitting it to the first grade graduate summa cum laude.  Each of the three surgical steel pins responded in much of the same way—alive with the minute movements of the pins of the very expensive lock.  He did not know Savitch had been terribly thwarted by this device.  He would have shaken his head and been disappointed had the lock just informed him; he would have shaken his head and thought that this was the work of Silver Surfer rather than the Spider.  Someone full of promise and sweet instead of an alienated psychopath.  He would have cursed the day a radioactive brown recluse had sunk his fangs into the Silver Surfer.  What a waste and loss.   Two minutes had passed and for the first time in his life, he felt a trickle of sweat slowly make its way down to his eyebrow in this sort of endeavor.  He heard the elevator ascending and cursed; he did not want to take these intimate extensions of his fingers from the womb of the lock and he waited one more microsecond longer than usual.  The state-of-the-art Otis—with the exception that this was not the D24 with horizontal as well as vertical movement—was not slowing down at the point it would have to if it was going to disgorge its cargo on this floor; he breathed easier.  His right hand kept manipulating the inner workings of the wren.  The very fine but weak enough pins which would shift perceptibly even when fixed when its neighbor was manipulated thereby frustrating skilled second-story men and women.  The fine surgical steel with proper tensile weakness continued to probe and align when as if by a will of their own, they started to line up.  Burkhart would have heard an audible click loud enough to make him jump and smile.  The apartment cat sitting next to the philodendron and purring in the sun heard nothing.  He carefully turned the latch and opened the heavy wood and thrilsium steel alloy door that cost more than the average house to Suzy’s and Jill’s tasteful and well appointed apartment.  He walked slowly in looking at the same paintings that Fry had beseeched help from but turned to the living room instead of the kitchen and its knives.  The foam had been vacuumed and the stockpot and its friends and companions had been put away.  There was one set of footprints headed back to the bedrooms.  He glanced in the kitchen and under the still marred dining room table—Jill had cried for twenty minutes upon seeing it and had called seven restorers.  The cheapest was 8000gold, she picked the most expensive but who had personally worked with Mikaya-san on Honshu, Japana-satat.  It would cost about the same as the original price on the table from The-Ichiban but she considered it well worth it.—and followed the track and spoor down the hallway.  The first door was Suzy’s and a pair of wise sapient eyes followed her movements in the hallway.  He seemed disappointed that she failed to acknowledge his presence as the intruder, but not a stranger, turned to look across the hall into an identical room that lacked the Teddy bear-sapient-sentinel.  He moved down the hall and gently turned the gold-plated latch and looked at Leela asleep on the bed.  Her pillow was covered with her purple hair and had just about obliterated her sleep-closed eye.  He closed the door and casually opened the fourth converted shared den/office.  Again no Theodore bear or Fry or Suzy bedded down.  He thought, ‘O wherefore art thou?’ before the thought of his old beautiful and sexy professor, Dr. Katharine Capulet, avering in class—to his virgin ears alone—that, ‘she was not asking, where are you but rather, ‘what are you, why are you here, and more to the point, ‘Hey Montague, what the fudge you doin, here…what are you after if it isn’t a piece of me?—he was terribly in lust with Dr K C and from whence he would learn his spring term in the arboretum behind Holmes Hall the finer points, nuances, chemistry and physics of William Shakespeare’s love scenes.  He never associated it with Montague-Capulet whose virgins would have been closer to his imagined Benedick-Beatrice.  He always wished it had been the ALMOST TAMED Katharine who deflowered him none to gently.—blushing Benedick suddenly thought he should have checked the rooms’ bathrooms.  He tiptoed past the still sleeping Leela and opened her door.  Nothing.  He turned and stopped.  Had it been a cartoon, dust and gravel would been thrown up by his skidding Chuck Taylors coming to a quick stop.  His head made the imaginary one hundred eighty degree turn to the south facing bathroom.  He looked at Purple Haze™ hair dye for-really-grape-sex© sitting on the counter.  He cursed, he made a hasty assumption and wrong again just like that once upon a time dipcrap  Andy Ashhole.  He looked at the purple hair still spread across her pillow and eye.  This was Suzy’s absent roomie returned.  Jealous of Leela, are we?  He couldn’t blame her.  She was one special striking and sexy woman.  So was she trying to get Suzy back?  There was another thing he couldn’t blame her for.  But whatever you, Miss, do not try to beat the crap out of the real purple haired fox.  He noticed that her left eye was set too far to the side of her face to accommodate one eye; it was part of a pair.  She was a Leelawannabe.  He did not frown, he had learned something.  He knew now where all of his three people weren’t.  That was narrowing it down a little.  He exited the apartment and had to pick the lock again to close it.  It was considerably faster than entering.  He heard the fast Otis descending to its home in the lobby.  He thought less than a second and then punched the blue button—‘down’.  ‘We ride in style.’ 
     He waited until the door completely opened just so there would be unpleasant surprises.  He walked over the minute gap and was about to push the red ‘L’ when he did a double take:  the service entrance was slightly ajar.  He took out his faded blue Swiss-Croatia Officer Corps Survival Implement.  This what Suzy thought had been a cheap imitation of in Fry’s pocket once upon a time instead of a priceless heirloom.  He flipped open the little Thompson electrical screwdriver and it popped forward into a full-size tool.  He remembered the Silver Surfer being fascinated with his old one: the one he later gave him when he turned into an official teenager.  He was able to really shake his head at a Silvitch mistake.  There was a tiny chip in the enamel where the Thompson slipped last week.  Burkhart jumped easily and not only fully opened the service access but gained a grip and disappeared into a rapturelike ascension full of the holy spirit.  Hmmm, we had an uncomfortable night here noticing the tiny chips from Spider’s belt buckle.  I wonder if he successfully ambushed his prey or if they fled into the forest primeval.  He looked carefully at the floor which was so scuffed, there was no telltale struggle indicated.  He nodded to the old white-haired door man and handed him a fifty.  If you see Suzy, tell her to stay put and please call this number.  He handed him a photographed and embossed card that indicated he was a special agent with the Central Intelligence Agency.  Domestic division and National Threat office.  Had he been familiar with the agency, he would have recognized the Deputy Director’s personal secretary and lover’s phone number.  Very few agents reported directly to a DD regardless of the division.  He was the only one to have held hands and sneak in an unwanted kiss with Ms. Moneypenny and inform the DD about it.  The deputy director told him he would have him killed if he did it again; neither were sure if he was serious.
*****

[Reply #49 on:]

(This just in: Fear, Fire, Foe and Famine on Earth; details tomorrow.  Now back to our regularly scheduled program:)

     “Professor, this is Mr….Burkhard?”  “I’ll be in the Angry Room if you want me.  Kiff just failed to answer my twenty eighth call of the morning.  Men!!”
     “Wha….?”
     “Professor Farnswoth!  What an honor for me, Sir~”
     “Wha….?”  “Whooo…?”
     “Great-horned Western--Bubo virginianus.  I didn’t  know you also knew your birds and calls.”
     “Wha….?”
     “My all-time favorite book was your classic Richard Pheynman was a physics phraud.  My doctoral thesis was based on your paradox.  It was never easy or fun but, god, it was interesting and challenging.  My doctoral advisor, Dr. Wernstrom, tried to fail me; to stop publication.  My committee over-ruled him.  I’ve heard the only living person he hates more than me is you, although he would debate that modifier after ‘only’.  He assumed I must be an associate of yours since he could not be able to understand the concept that if someone read a book of his, it would follow they might imagine some connection between the reader and author.  His books were best exercised or forgotten, at least.  If I had been as close to you as he implied, I, like Daedalus, would clearly have fallen to earth, hopefully in the Aegean.
     “Ah, where I would already be.  I hope you would make sure you would not fall on me.”
     “I would fall next to you and try to make acquaintance of your companion, the lovely Ms. Leela.
     “Ah, Leela, now.  Fifty, sixty years ago I would have had her lovely hide nailed to my bed room wall displaying the short purple.  Now, she just scares the bejesus out of me.  But perhaps considering my, our, position, perhaps it would make a lot sense and try and go down swinging.  Just on the possibility of reaching the purple home plate, it would be exciting way to go.”
     “This humble doctor agrees, doctor.  What then of your cute little Asian-states girl, Ms. Amy.”
     “Ah, the compliant, and very responsive Ms. Amy who meets the meets the short term as  well as long term desires of an old man.  But I believe I would choose Amphitrite or Calypso in the Aegean.  Calypso, lover of Odysseus, that unconstant lover.  I on the other hand would have been content to stay in Callie’s bed and let Penny pick her best suitor; sloppy seconds be damned, but well perhaps behind Odysseus, so much the better.  Yes…hmmm, indeed.”
     “Then perhaps Leela and I could visit you on your island in the stream.”
     “Good luck man.  And let me advise you.  Never put on your spurs or you will be the one whom will be tamed.  I guarantee it.  But consider Doc-tor Wern-strommm for a m-sec--a maximum for most intelligent people--as the poster child of the of the old saw:  …Who knows the value of nothing.  Inimicus inimici mei amicus meus est!—at least sometimes  or in Wernstrom’s case: hostis and consequently almost always:  So, I should most certainly say, “Friend!!:  QED.”
     “Most certainly then, a double honor, Sir Doctor.  If I ever go back in time, Sir.  I am going to try like hell to get you as my doctoral advisor.”
     “Hah!  Then take me with you but to an earlier time.  I am still pretty much as sharp as I ever was—and having learned a few things and managed to remember them (no mean trick, you try it at my age) I might even be better.  But my mind—you may have noticed my naps, I always loved them but they are loving me now—is skipping, like a stone on …wha??”
     “Your mind, Sir.”
     “Yes, I have one.  And so do you.  I read your thesis just now while you were droning on about Wernstrom.  Very fascinating but flawed.  You are very lucky I was not your advisor, young man.  I would have you thrown the whole thing out and made you start …wha?  What on gods’ green earth are we talking about, young man?”
     “Nothing of import.  Professor, I had a conversation with your officer Manager, Hermes Conrad, and your very pretty intern, Amy Wong.”
     “Hmmm, you know well of my desirable herd of mares, then.  You speak with Amy, you know of Leela.  Alas, if were but their stallion.  Young Fry, seems to have risen to that occasion at long last.  I am not sorry but I am surprised but then consider his genetic contributions.”
     “Well, I then come to not only the most intelligent and advanced man of this millennium but also the one whom I need.  Could you so kind to tell me how I could get a hold of young Fry and Ms. Leela?”
     “Just only one millennium??, ah but I forget about ‘Sir Standing-on-the -very-shoulders-of’, I am very sorry not to say they should either be here or shacked up at her place.  Unfortunately for all of them, Fry is hospitalized down at CK Beth Israel…you know, ‘Hear o Israel’.”
     “…The Claussen Kosher is the one pickle et cetera.  Indeed I do love my garlics.  And the Ms Leela?”
     “Leela is attending him along with his new lover, Susan James Anderson.”
     ‘Bingo’.  “Thank you.  Sometime, Sir, if I brought my copy of Pheynman and took you for tea, would you please inscribe it.”
     “TEA!??  Don’t be absurd.  You’re not dealing with or trying to bribe Wernstrom here.  Make it a triple single malt on the rocks—100 years or better, Cripes: I’d still be an old man at its infancy--with a bowl of wasabi almonds and I’ll sign anything except a carte blanche unless it’s from Wernstrom and then add a couple of zeros and I shall make a reasonable facsimile thereof his sloppy and immature signature.”  “Yes, two beautiful sleep-in attendees.  Makes me think I should break my arm and get admitted there.”
     “Once again, sir, you inspire me to soar.  Thank you again.  I’ll let myself out.”
     “Wha….?”  “Whooo…?”
     “Yes, a great northern.”
*****
     Burkhart inquired at the front desk.  He was surprised to learn there was no Fry admitted.  “Well, then, did a Mr. Fry go home today or yesterday?
     “I’m sorry, Sir.  There is not Fry listed.  Nor is there a listing for any recent admission—in the last month—of someone named Fry.  Are you sure you are closely related to this gentleman?”  Her eyes narrowed and she started reaching for her red security phone.
     He chuckled,” You calling FBI or Kruschev or Stalin or maybe the Czar?”
     She had dialed one number of three digit panic code. 
     ‘That was dumb.  If it had to be a dialed number why not a one digit?  Why not a head set, with a foot or knee activated button.  Probably scared to death of false alarms but falsies are the best training device available—random with no relationship to who’s here and who’s not.  Keeps security on their toes.  A pair of security women walked by and he muttered, Twinkletoes!  Not armed, would take ten seconds to get a radio call off if they remembered the sequence and no whistle or panic button in sight.  Where in the hell is their taser, cuffs, and net?  This place seriously needs a consultant.’  He seriously thought about dropping in on management when he remembered he was trying to retire—one more thing--only.  ‘One week hospital job with six million meetings: Carol would kill me.  She should let Spider do it, she’d get the ridiculous large amount they have on my life—I am worth it but not for what they think.’
     The receptionist had already forgotten what number(s) she had dialed, started over and did the same thing.  By then she had forgotten ‘444’.  She looked in panic at Berkhart.
     “Russian premiers in cold war and the big one before that.  Hot lines were usually red and we would have had a nuclear war before anyone got through the sequence and protocol.  Suggest a voice activated headset.  They’ll say no.  Ask about a dedicated line, headset or reach for the cradle.  If they nix that, and you’re thinking right now, what do mean IF, ask about a two digit number with a knee or foot activator. They’ll accept that because it can go on the existing system.  Can you remember two numbers?”
     “Sir…”
     “Place like this, I suggest you try ‘444’—a favorite of institutions, especially close custody maxes--but don’t ask them.  Tell them you got a real suspicious bad guy here who is packing.”
     “You are?”
     “Yes ma’am”, today being Tuesday, I think.”
     “Holy mother o…What are you carrying?”
     ‘An honest-to-god, loaded Beretta 9mm.  I don’t know if the ammunition is any good.  It came from Israel via Russia States but too damn expensive to test-fire; Glock 2X blaster; two smoke grenades; two plastic grenades; two sinecque grenades—those are the ones you should mention first; kbar on my left hip, razor in my shoe—good gods, I sound too much like Leroy B; and S&W-Colt 667v automatic C32rockets—500yarders.  There’s an automatic grenade launcher on my back broken down but I promise, I’m not going to take the trouble to get that out although it is prearmed and loaded.  I think that’s it other than the Phazer and the gas gun.  I left the mortars at my wife’s this morning.  I get damned tired of carrying it and I’ve never used it.  Tell them I am heavily armed and they better call for two backups.  Tell them I’ll most likely use the scoped-AR that will inflict the most damage that’s on my back I forgot to mention but NO Lincoln Continental.  It’s the only time you’ll have their full attention.”
     “Two????”
     “Wouldn’t hurt for one to be a SWAT team but you better have a good field command, coordinator and spotter or everyone is going to end up killing everyone else—I probably would be the last man standing—er crouched under your desk—do you know you are not wearing any panties?  You want me to call them?”
     “I do so!  They are very soft…blue.  That would be nice but would get me in trouble.  If you don’t get in trouble and have to go some place nasty, do want to grab a cup of coffee and a sticky bun—mine are the stickiest--with me in ten minutes.”
     “Carol would kill me although it might already be on her agenda.  No, thanks.”
     “Well, ok,  please sit over there and someone will be with you in a minute.”
     “I’ll bet.”
     He picked up a two year old magazine about Was it time Harvard joined the Big Ten?  He muttered an obscenity and watched the security response teams start to take position. 
     They weren’t as poorly trained as he thought they would be.  All good visibility of me; reasonable cover; good sighting for nonverbal communication; and no deadly crossfire positioning.  ‘I’ll give them a B+ and a C for time of response.  Hmm, they did not believe her.  No one is armed appropriately; they would take some serious losses although they would prevail: automatic failure.’
     A pretty young brunette with a yellow—yellow??—beret walked up to him.  “Good morning, sir.  My Sergeant asked me to inform you are surrounded with no way out.”
     He looked at her amazed.  ‘You mean I did have no way out.  How about I disarm you and put you in front of me and walk out that door your sergeant forgot to secure?” 
     “I told him that of both, Sir.  He reminded me of whom he was and whom I was and gave me a direct order to respond now.  Sorry, Sir.  We aren’t always this bad.”
     “We’ll see another time.  Please take my electronic ID to your Sergeant’s superior and give him the checkoff: ‘The time has come the walrus said…”
     “Shall do Sir but may I criticize you now.  Everyone knows the response to that.”
     “You’d be surprised how many do not know but that is not the response.  I’ll just wait here.  Tell the pretty brunette, I’ve changed my mind.  I would like to have coffee with her.  What Carol doesn’t know, won’t hurt me:  much.  I’ll just wait here.”
     “Be back in a jiffy, Sir.” 
     “Hey, tell your Sergeant to commend you or I’ll go over his head and mention that as well.”
     “Sir!  Yes, Sir.”
     I watched her walk over to the receptionist.  The both talked with their hands.  The bright yellow target beret reached in her pocket and pulled out a coin, I assumed.  She flipped and apparently won because I saw the other say something short and turn away and the beret pumped her fist and waved back at me.  The old double headed quarter but regardless I wasn’t worried:  ‘I couldn’t lose.’
     As soon as I saw a short guy in jeans and a polo shirt with a ballcap that had fbi x’d out on his very swelled head start to walk to me, I knew I was back in reality:  Willie Sweathogue, ex FBI and decent security consultant but would never do field work again.  “Hey Willie, I’m surprised your troopers did not open up.”
     “Hey Burkhart.  If I had known it was you, I would have so ordered.  Good to see you again.  Must have been, what,  two years now?  Swiss-German state and that very lovely Fraulein with the two litre steins.”
     “I think you’re thinking of two 1 pints girl with the 36Cs.  But I get the reference immediately.  Lively lass.  Of course, I was more lively two years and six operations ago.  Getting old sux, doesn’t?”
     “Something they failed to mention at the academy.  I hear you are one mean and heavily armed mofu.” 
     “I quit that crap a long time ago, Willie.  I just have brass knuckles on me and some breath mints.  I was looking for a Philip J Fry and your desk says he doesn’t exist.”
     “I remember you using those mints before.  Pretty damn effective for a mint.  Why the hell didn’t you just hand her your ID you bothered me with?”
     “I wanted to see you again, Willie.  Don’t you owe me a twenty?”
     “Pretty sure it’s a fifty and it’s the other way around.  But since I have to look at money all day long that’s not mine in my nite job, I’m going to charge you three PCPA compounded quarterly.”
     “How much is your life worth, Willie?” 
     “About fifty five bucks.  You want a five dollar bill or silver.  Don’t have any ones.  Go blow it on a two-dollar girl and see if she can make change.”
     “About Mr. Fry?”
     “Seventh Floor.  He’s on security watch.  Some bad guy thought it was Halloween and tried to poison him in scrubs.  There’s three men up there but if I were you, I’d watch out for the women instead.”
     “Especially the one-eyed Leela.”
     No, I mean both.  Crap.  You’ve already met her and I am jealous.  If you can make it with either, ask the other if she wants to double date.  I’ll call my crew and the Nurse—Cratchitt—up there.  If they know you, don’t expect any welcome.”
     “That’s why I’m putting aluminum shavings in the water supply.  If everyone had Alzheimer’s, I’d have more friends.”
     “I’ll always be your friend, Burkhart, now get the hell out of here and don’t come back unless you want to pay me the fifty!”
     “I think it was one hundred.  Leela and who?”
     “Name is Suzy.  She’s a switch hitter so she’s got two reasons to like you.  Tell her Hi.  G’Luck!   Gotta get back to my soaps.”
     “You are going to be so surprised:  Jimmy and Calculon were both the fathers as well as step brothers.”
     “Thanx for nuthin’, Creep!!!!”
*****
     ‘I know what the elevator looks like unless Spider is up there; I’ll take the stairs.’  ‘Ok, no advantage at the top unless you want to expose yourself; good to know.’  ‘Blast doors, automatic closing and obviously bullet proof and probably any rocketry he’s carrying.’  ‘Doors well marked and no confusing ‘A’s or mezzanines.  And takes ten seconds from L to 7 and probably seven to eight going down.’  ‘Seventh floor: fry pans and ladies brassieres, 36cs.  We’re home.’ 
     “Hi, Nurse Crachitt, I’m Burkhart and…”
      “Yes, Willie called.  Are you here on official capacity Mr. Burkhart?”
     “I don’t have days off, Ms. Crachitt.”
     “Neither do head nurses,  Please address me as Mrs. Crachitt or Head Nurse Cratchitt or Nurse Crachitt.  They will all do fine, thank you.”
     “Some women went through hell so you…”
     “So did I, many times.  So did my husband who is now dead.  If your casualties from the sex wars of 2400s came here, most of them would not have died.  Although part of me appreciates you trying to stick up for them—no pun intended.  And no one went to a dark alley in the last thousand years because of our policies, legal or not, and I shall personally ream out any person using a coat hanger for anything other than hanging a jacket or some piece of clothing up.  But of course there would be fewer martyrs then and much less exciting and maudlin songs.  I earned all my titles, please respect them.  I ask you about official because I want to know what disturbances you anticipate and would you please schedule any shoot outs until after visiting hours.  I am responsible for forty some patients, nursing students and people like you.  I would volunteer you to minimize my losses.”
     “Well said and a kindred spirit to my mother, mother-in-law, gremmie and great gremmie.  None of you would have stood my great-great Tory gramma.  But how many deaths will you accept if I am not here.  Your security won’t stop him; I just saw them in ‘action’.”
     “Well said, yourself.  Please let me start over.  Hello, I’m Nurse Cratchitt.  What can I do to make your job easier and less intrusive on my wards.”
     “If I do my Job, Mrs. Cratchitt, Nurse, you will not notice me until which time I either say good bye or apprehend our bad guy.  I shall do everything I can to keep everyone healing here doing just that.”
     Excellent.  Now, please believe me you do not want a drink with Ms. Yellow Beret whatever she promised.  It wasn’t long ago I had three of her giftees on this ward dying.  I shall however offer you earl gray tea, decent cappuccino, or a good domestic scotch mixture aged over twenty years on the rocks with a dash of mint or drambuie.  There is a decent clean sexateria we provide checkups for around the corner if you want dessert—ol’ Yellar will never be permitted to work there.  I don’t provide that any more—dried up but not yet blown away.
     “Deal and I’ll read one of your two year or older magazines you thoughtfully provide here—terrible about the Titanic wasn’t it!”
     “Ha!!  That quip earns you a double.  One more and I’ll try to find some lube.”
     “Like the scotch?  One double is great.  Two doubles will get you in trouble.”
     “I believe you are a hot shot secret agent, Mr. Bond, or at least have the same writers.”
     “Nah, Fleming was always too ironic and the feature film writers weren’t writers at all; mine while SOME would debate it, is the best!!”  [there goes that damn 4th wall they keep trying to put back!]
     “You’re more like Graham Greene {YES} or maybe Didius Falcon {{NOOO}}.”
     “Maybe.  I am a lapsed Catholic and always loved Latin mass.”
     “Maybe just one time, we’ll get the good stuff out and go for a triple.  Be right back with some ice and peanuts.”

[Reply #50 on:]

    “Leela lay naked on the floor with a similarly undressed Suzy.  They were too hot and out of breath to lie with their arms around each other; the floor was cold but felt refreshing.  As romantic as it sounded, it was too uncomfortable.  Suzy drug herself up, ran cold water on a couple of towels and knelt be her friend and wiped her down.  “If I start wiping and drying your breasts, I am just going to end up in a heap on the floor.  Roll over.  She wiped her back and butt, thighs and calves.  She ran more very cold water for the feet, between the toes and between Leela’s legs.  When I take a shower after tennis or working out with wrestling or martial arts, all I see are bikini waxes or complete shave jobs.  Why do women do that to themselves?”
     “I guess to look nice for another woman or man.  And some just do it to feel good about themselves like ‘taking care of themselves’.”
     “Maybe, but that same argument could be made for binding feet.”
     “Mine should have been bound; my stompers, barefoot, are bigger than big foot and twice the size of Fry’s!  How ‘bout high heels.”
     “I don’t recommend binding but if you shrink them to his size, it’s awfully, awfully handy athough he doesn’t really go my styles.  But what about you wearing them if the man wants you to.  Say he likes the looks of your legs, especially the shapely calves?  Maybe he likes to be seen with a beautiful woman and that includes heels in his mind.  Would you wear high heels if Fry asked you to?”
     “Well first of all, Fry wouldn’t want me to wear heels if they hurt or I couldn’t walk right in them.  And if he asked if I would wear them all the time for him?  Trick question but I would say, ‘no’.  But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t compromise.  Maybe he’d like me just as much in a tall leather boot with a little heel that could easily be comfortable and still might look nice or sexy.  But if he asked me to wear them to bed?  However his fantasy would dress me.  Maybe a leather vest or a bustier or whatever as long as it didn’t degrade me or us, then of course.  And if he wanted me to look special for a special occasion maybe like a highschool or college reunion and you want the guys to see your sexy looking wife: I could go sexy for him for a night or weekend.  I’d dance around naked if it made him feel good and didn’t get me in trouble.  I’d dress up as a pirate or a fireman or a prostitute or a French maid, at least a French maid in boy’s fantasies.  I’m pretty sure that our Earthican neighbors in Le Etat d’ France who are working domestics do not have time for silly aprons or very short skirts unless there was something in it for her.  But we could also try me in loafers or ballet slippers or logging boots.  I tried to wear the buggalo boots at Amy’s and they were a little practical for riding but they were too damn uncomfortable.  But I could wear those for an afternoon or evening if he asked.  I might have a choice myself.  What do French body coaches wear; how about as the queen’s musketeer or my personal housekeeper?”
     “I agree about your heels.  But It could be fun also to intimidate a man because you’re four inches taller than he is.  And once again you can’t share his minimalist wardrobe but I do love wearing that messy red shirt of his as a prize of lovemaking!”
     “I wouldn’t want to be with a man who would be intimidated so easily by such a trivial method.”
     “Well, you’re right of course but I would prefer just to intimidate a man just because I’m better, smarter, make more money, have more power, and can be beat the crap out of him.”
     “Is that why I am so in love with Fry?  He’s never been intimidated by me.  I’ve scared the crap out of him.  Oh, god.  I told you about the time I did beat the crap out of him?  Even when I thought he deserved it…when I thought he had raped me… I did not enjoy beating him up.  I did because I had to…to let him know that was not acceptable and I wasn’t going to stand for it.   I’ve gone out with shallower guys because they were …never mind, they weren’t.  He accepts me with a lot of qualities than is better than his and many that are just different.  He knows me and he likes me because of what he knows or in spite of it.  I wish it had not taken years to realize that but I intend to make it up to him the rest of my life.  Is that at all similar as why you like him.” 
     “He is so cute for one.  He looks like a little boy that I want to play doctor with; play house.  He is faithful.  I offered him sex that he wanted but even though he thought you did not love him anymore, he was faithful to you because he loved you.  I never met any guy like that.  My heart gave itself to him when I saw him reading baby names.  I’ve never met any tough guy who was so self-confident, so sure of himself that he would permit somebody to watch him read that book.  He has fun and likes to play games but not at your expense.  He shares beyond reason and is modest to a small fault but what I really like about him besides what you see is what you get is that he is considerate.  Not in some hokey open the door for me way like I can’t do it myself but save the last piece of pizza or apple pie—that Leela, is true-love  Please do not ask if I naturally reciprocate.  Ask me whom I would like to see do a concert and not talk about himself all the time.  I love it how he wants to know how I feel and I assume he does it to you, but do any guys other than Fry who want you to have a climax first and like to cuddle and foreplay.  Man!!!!  He is a hell of a guy.  I am so happy you are willing to share some of him with me.  We are lucky.”
     “I am lucky.  I have you too.”
     “You always have me Leela.  You never have to ask.  Wherever I am and whatever I am doing, I am yours.  I believe Fry feels the same way.  Please never ask.  Well, maybe nudge me if we’re with my ‘rents.  God, my dad just might try to join us.  He tries so hard to be cool and it’s hard because he already is.  You don’t have to ask with mom there,  just take me in front of her.  You know, if you ever called her ‘mom’, she would probably climax she would be happy that and praise her jello and marshmallow pie but don’t ever expect to be more of a favorite of hers than Fry already is.  I’ll take up the slack some.”
     “Did you just say something?”
     “No, I was just thinking about my mother.  And then I started worrying about your mother and I thanked god that Fry’s mother has been dead for over a thousand years.  Isn’t that horrible? Damn.  Leela, do you think your mom will like me?”
     “Would it matter if she didn’t?”
     “If you mean would I still love you?  Then, yes.  Would I want to spend the rest of my life with you; to be my very best friend, no matter what and would want to lie next to you when you die, maybe while I still living?  Then, no it would not matter.  But she’s part of you and I want all of you.”
     “She would try.  You would have to prove it to her that you and I that’s unfair,You can’t have all of me.  Some of me belongs to Fry.  Some of it is mine and that doesn’t mean I won’t share it with you or let you look at it on a rainy Saturday and even though she gave me away, some of me belongs to my mom.  I don’t think dad really wants much except for me to be happy so I honestly believe everything else can be split between you and my man.  You two could fight it out; I’m through fighting you; I want to love you instead.  It’s much more fun and feels wonnnnderrrfull right here, and here, and here in my heart.”  Do you want to go for that first feeling?”
     “I wouldn’t hurt your feelings if I told you have already exhausted me.  I can barely walk without reeling.  Cratchitt is going to think I’ve been into either her everclear or her scotch.  And now that I think about it,  why don’t we dress up just a little bit and go visit the scotch lady.
     “Not my feelings.  I was relieved you said no.  I think I sprained my tongue.  Yes scotch is the perfect thing for a sprung tongue.”
     “That, young lady, is going earn you two spanks on the butt for punning out of season.”
     “Only two?  Damn.  And that was pretty bad.  You look good enough to pour scotch down.  Let’s go.”
     *****
     “My husband, Mr. Burkhart, was an adequate doctor.  I think he married me because one, I was attractive and attentive to him as a suitor and more importantly for him, two, he was desperately afraid he was going to get caught having an affair with either a nurse or orderly—he was bisexual—which I had never heard of before—and he was honest with me about it.  Told me what to expect from him.  I, unfortunately, did not believe or want to believe he would carry through on giving his love to a casual acquaintance and withhold it much, if not all, of the time.  He did keep me company when he wasn’t having an affair and deigned to talk to me—there were women doctors of course, have been for centuries, if not, millennia but it wasn’t that unusual then for them not to be taken seriously.  He would discuss his cases and those of other doctors—except Christopher’s—with me.  And would ask my opinion and as we got older and he got less dependent upon me for taking care of him, he actually tried to encourage me to go to medical school.  He thought that I was afraid.  I was afraid.  I was terribly afraid of leaving Christopher Brown for more than a month or two.  My husband would not have cared if I had slept with him—if he knew, he probably would have encouraged it.  He was afraid of being shown up by Christopher.  He was jealous of the man’s mind, skills and abilities that were way beyond his.  He refused to recognize it and always thought he would be named chief of staff of one day.  He killed himself when Christopher was.  Christopher tried to save him and I shamefully prayed he would not be successful and maybe they were answered because my husband died a horribly death by destroying his kidneys but not enough to make it quick, only inevitable.  I sat by his side as he cried not for his pain but his shame.  I thought about finishing the job more than once.  And the enzymes and hepatic fluids as well as the deteriating kidney itself was constantly thrown up with this horrible smell and I just sat there and prayed that it would soon end for my sake.  I almost committed suicide after his death but Christopher kept just enough eye and interest on me to prevent that but not enough for us to fall in love.  And that made me suicidal as well.  I was not an effective nurse during that time.  Not for more than a year.  Not until they gave me my third year nursing students to torture and educate and make nurses of.  They and most observers would swear I am immune to emotion.  I assure you, Mr. Burkhart, that it is harder on me when I browbeat and question them and shake them out of their egocentric lives.  They will never know how much that hurts to challenge them so relentlessly but someone has to and I am good at it.  And most come to love me in spite of the catholic feeling of hating me as well.”
     “Mrs. Cratchitt, there is someone at your door.”
     “Yes.  Yes, I hear it.  Probably some very new student being unfairly hazed into asking me a question.  So, Mr. B.—oh my god, I am sorry, I do apologize.  I have no r…”
     “Mrs. Cratchitt, it was charming to hear myself so addressed, please continue doing so or find something equally flip and irreverent—it’s good for us all to be not taken too seriously.”
     “hmmm.  I see your point.  Very well, I shall do so but only on the condition that you shall pick some appellation for myself.  I give you carte blanche including those silly titles.  Now, do I disappoint the whole and act civil or do I have this young girl pee her pants and come down with the very wrath of god?  Let’s go see, shall we.  WHO THE HELL IS IT??!!!” 
     “Come in my dear.” 
*****
     Fry was walking down a service corridor.  It looked like it was probably between the walls.  The labeled oxygen cables along with an inordinate amount of wiring for any normal room suggested he was a hospital and in confirmation he heard a page.  There was a service door off the long hall way he almost went by.  Out of curiosity he opened the door and he rubbed his eyes and looked again.  Ten feet from him in a hospital bed with an IV and ekg wiring he saw himself lying in bed; his eyes were closed.  Leela sat next to the bed with her head in her lap.  It looked like she had been crying and fell asleep with the tears still dripping onto his sheets since the side of the bed was wet.  It was a sweet image and he knew he should get back in bed with himself but he wanted to look just for one more minute.  He heard voices outside,  he tore off his shirt, shoes and sox, pants, underwear and grabbed a green Beth Israel t-shirt put it on while running and jumped into bed.  He brushed Leela as he flew by and she opened her eyes. 
     “Fryyyyyy!  You’re awake.  Yoweeeeeee.  Oh, Sweetheart, you scared us all.  We were all worried sick.  You weren’t responding to anything we tried and now, now you’re back.  Heeeeeere’s Philip!!!  How do you, feel.  Are you thirsty?  Hungry?”   She reached for the pager and buzzed it a solid minute. 
     Cratchitt  answered, “Do you want something Leela?” 
     Leela  blinked, “How’d you know it was me?  Fry’s awake; he’s sitting up looking at me!”
     “I could just tell from your buzzer and by how long you held it, I knew that Philip had come out of his coma.  Christopher and I shall be down in a minute as soon as we get dressed.”
     …………..”Mrs. Cratchitt!!!  Really.  Oh, I am so happy for you.  I have Fry here and I’m holding his hand and you have Christopher.  Our prayers have been answered.  We’ll be here; I don’t think Fry is going any place just yet.”
     “He might; he’s done some serious traveling just now.  You better watch him.”
    “You think?  Ok, I shall,  Good  idea.  I shall call the kitchen and order a gallon of ice cream and hot fudge sauce and we’ll have a party.  Hurry down.  I want to give you a hug.”
     “Fry?  Guess what?  There is this really cool nurse—head nurse.  She saved your life when that psycho tried again, anyway, she’s been in love with the chief of staff, Christopher Brown, for over fifty years, unrequited and everything.  Well, one or both of them just figured it out, they were in bed together when I called.  Just like us, they figured it out.”
     “Um…that’s really nice for her, er, them.  Um…I don’t know if I have figured it out yet…maybe…Leela, where’s Suzy; I thought she might be here too?”
     “You haven’t ….oh, of course you haven’t.  You’ve been in a coma for a week and we only had a little time to adjust to one in a bed, two in a bed and three in a bed.  I wasn’t one hundred percent at the very first, I mean, Susan is so new to us and we’ve been like together forever…well.  But after I got used to the two of you loving me simultaneously, you, she, we  were wonderful.  But…Suzy…Oh, she was by your side almost the whole time.  We took turns sleeping with you when your bed was smaller.  That wonderful, Christopher, I just told you about had a double bed—he wanted a royal or at least a king but neither would fit so he found a four hundred year old double-bed in rough condition and the hospital bought it and refurbished it and rewired it and hooked a moveable mattress in it and everything.  But well the last four days I was only sleeping with you because…because…”  Leela brought her hands up to her face and started crying.  She ran to Fry and threw her arms around him and cried.
     “Leela…Leela……Leela!     Please, tell me what happened.  Just the short version.  Please.  I know something horrible happened.  Did the killer get to…”
     “No, no.  It wasn’t that.  It was bad but it wasn’t that bad.  It’s a long story.  Can I get you anything before I start.  Coffee, water, pop.  I wish I had a beer in here.  Or maybe something to eat.”
     “Please Leela, there’s ice water on my table.  Just tell me what happened, ok.”
     “Oh, Fry!  It was horrible.  It all started when she started thinking you weren’t going to ever wake up.  I’m afraid I thought the same thing, I just didn’t say anything.  And about a week ago,  one of the security guys we have in here when they’re not outside like right now started flirting with her.  Well  that’s nothing new.  We’ve been kidding those guys since day one.  This is the really cute young one.  Looks too young to be carrying a blaster.  Anyway, she started kidding him back and then started in on the cute double and triple meanings and suggestions and pretty soon she’s hitting on him.  I didn’t think anything of it, still.  I mean Sooz has had a really hard time.  She really loved yo…”
     “Leela, did you just use a preterite.”
     “Pardon, I don’t understand.”
     “Neither do I.  I think you just used the past tense of the verb, to love:  she really loved…you.  Leela, what are you saying?”
     “Damn her, it’s not fair I have to tell you.  She should do that.”
     “Tell me what, Leela.  For gods’ sakes. I…”
     “I’m sorry Fry.  Really sorry.  She told me she no longer loves you.  She told me couldn’t. She said it was killing her.  But Fry, she thought you really …”
     “Just like that?  How long was I in a coma, anyway.”
     “Philip, it wasn’t how long you were in one.  It’s how long it felt to her…It must…”
     “I know it was hard for her.  It was hard for you too, wasn’t it.  How long was it?  Please tell me.  I want to…”
     “Six.  Six days.  Six days and two hours but…”
     “Not a week, huh?  I sat for you twice as long as that?  I didn’t have anyone to spell me or talk to beside you which I did twenty some hours a day for sixteen days, four hours, sixteen minutes and an odd number of seconds.  I got discouraged too but I never stopped loving you.  And you, I just asked you if it wasn’t hard for you, too?  You didn’t answer.”
     “Of course it was;  it was a nightmare.”
     “But you’re still here.  I think,  Leela, do.”
     “Of course I love you.  But you’re being hard on her.”
     “You’re right.  I am being hard on her.  I have no right to judge her.  If she know…Leela, what were you just saying about flirting?”
     “I only said it was hard on her; she was lonely.  She had me but…”
     “But it wasn’t enough?  She wanted more?  Please tell me about the flirting.  The security guy did…?”
     “Oh, Fry!  It was all his fault.  He…”
     “His fault.  You mean he forced her.  Did he rape her; did you report him or…?”
     “No, no no.  It wasn’t like that at all.  It wasn’t rape.  It just sort of happened.  You know…?”
     “I don’t think I do.  I am confused.  I’ve been out of it almost a week.  Of course I’m disoriented and not thinking clearly…..but I didn’t feel anything like that with you, Leela.  I just remember being sick with worry.  I couldn’t have had sex…she had sex with the guy, didn’t she?”
     “Yes.”
     “Where?”
     “Fry, what does it matter where or when or why.  It just happened.  She was sick with worry too.”
     “It’s really important to me, Leela.  Please tell me.”
     “No.”
     “That’s…….hmmm.  Ok, I’ll ask him.  I’ll bet you he’s going to be happy to talk about it.  He’s going to want to say how he banged my girlfriend.  Where and when and why.  What’s his name.”
     “I don’t know.”
     “Liar!  Leela, I think it’s nice—not necessary, but nice that you’re trying to protect two people.  I’m not going to threaten either one of them.  I just want to know.”
     “I don’t know his name.”
     “I don’t think so but it doesn’t matter.  The young one.  The good—no, the really good looking one.  Shouldn’t be too hard.  I mean how many of them do I have to ask?”
     “Fry, where are you going?”
     “Outside.  On the other side of this door, there…”
     “Ken.  His name is Ken.  Kenneth Starr.  He is cute.  He is also kind of a prick.  You really want to know where?”
     “You don’t have to tell me.  It was here, wasn’t it.  On the floor and…”
     ….
     “Oh my god.  That is not a good look, Leela.  You’re thinking: ‘you wish… or something.  It was in my bed.  Wasn’t it.  In my bed, next to me.  Did they move me?”
     “What?”
     “You-heard-me!”
     “Yes.  Just a little.”
     “Out of the way.”
     “Something like that.”
     “They cover me up too, so they couldn’t see me or anything.”
     “Uh…”
     “Leela?”
     “Susan put a blanket over your face.”
     ….
     “Fry, she thought…”
     “Noooo!  No!  She didn’t think at all.  She was too interested in getting it to think.  She…”
     “Fry!  Stop it.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself.  It’s done.  It’s over.  If you care, if you ever cared, you can talk to her.  It can be worked out.  You had to have been in her shoes if you are going to judge her.”
     “Have you talked to her?”
     “She won’t talk to me.  At least she won’t answer her phone.”
     “You called her from either here or your wristything.  They’re not programmed to leave no footprints.  She knows who is calling.”
     “She would talk to you.  She would be thrilled.”
     “She would have been.  Once.  I don’t think so.” 
     “Fry, can I ask you something I’m not sure about?”
     “Why do I want to say ‘no’?”
    “You can say no, if you want.  You really liked Suzy, didn’t you?  I mean really-really liked?  I’m guessing you liked her a lot more than me.  I’m afraid you loved her a lot more than me.  I know you loved me once and I did my best to stop that.  Maybe too well.  Do you love me enough to want to be with me?  Or did I ruin that for you?  I understand I could be part of a threesome.  Could I be part of a twosome?  Would you marry me, Mr. Philip J Fry?”
     “Oh, god.  Can I have a minute or two to think of how to answer…?”
     “Never mind, you just did.  You were talking about me when you just you didn’t know; you hadn’t figured it out yet.”
     “Leela…”
     “Fry.  I want you.  We were here before,  god it seems like a long, long time ago.  Like it was in your time, before you came here.  Do you want to go back if I could help arrange it?
     “Leela, that is not possible and is…”
     “Fry, how long have been around the Professor?  Haven’t you noticed a lot of things that are not possible are possible with him.  You’re right, it might not be.  I could talk to the Professor.”
     “I don’t think I fit in anymore where I came from.  If you’re serious, let me think about it.”
     “Would you think about taking me back with you?  I don’t have much here either, any more.”
     “Wow, now that would be exciting.  Would you like to on the cover of Rolling Stone.  People is a given.  I can just hear the conservative talk shows.  Rush is going to have to go back on oxycodone.  I wish Jack Paar was still on but you’ll love Johnny and NASA would be very interested.  Maybe you shouldn’t take your blaster…It would be hard for you, Leela.  Very  hard but I would try to help, if I could.  And I haven’t figured out yet if I would be THERE for you.  Of course, I shall think about it.”

[Reply #51 on:]

[Prepare yourself for the worst:]

     “Ok.  I know, it’s a dumb idea but if you thought we could be together there, then may…Oh, there’s  Crachitt and her boyfriend…Imagine!  Just a second, guys,  Let me make myself presentable..”
     “Leela, you look great.”
    “Thank you, but I sort of wanted to think we were making love.  I’m sorry.  Just a minute. ….Come in Christopher and where…oh, wrong doctor…OH!  OH, crap!!
     A “doctor” in blue scrubs, still wearing a mask and paper slippers but holding a very large blaster—the kind even law enforcement and military procurers could not buy—and now pointed at Leela and occasionally, Fry.  “Good to see you too, Purple Witch.  You try any of your substandard martial arts crap and I’ll blow that red-headed creep out of this hospital.  Turn around and put your hands together behind your back.  Stay in bed there Red and keep those hands exactly where they are.  Let me know if this is too tight.  I shall endeavor to make you comfortable, you freak.  Now lie down face first on the floor and put your foot next to the bed leg and same with your wrist after I frisk you and feel you up a little.  Red!  I ain’t going to say it again and Purple Hair here is the one who will really suffer for your stupidity.  Capisce?  Just kidding about the feeling up part Purple, what size are we talking about here.  Is that a 38?  Better yet, is that real?  God, I hate implants.  Hmmmm.  The latex fingers grabbed her tightly and pinched hard creating an ugly purple welt.  Purple, you’re not talking!  He held her right breast entirely, slightly kneading it but occasionally bring a lot of pressure bear.  You want an incentive?  Listen!  Same deal with you.  Don’t play along and it’s Red here that is going to pay the flautist.  And I assure you, I flaut with the best.  Now, what did you say?”
     “Thirty-six and yes, my breasts are real.” 
     “Allrighty then.”  He bent down and kissed her left and sucked on and licked her other.  Leela never felt anything so obscene or pathetic before and she forced her caustic tongue to just lie there.
     “How bout down here?  Purple too?”  His fingers probed through her pants.  His other hand slipped into her waistband and under her panties, it moved under his hand and grabbed a handful of presumably purple hair and pulled just past the point of hurting and then letting it filter through his fingers.
     ….
     “Red!  Give me your hand, palms up, fingers out!  Quick or she loses her pony tail and lord knows what else.”
     “AHRRRRRRRHGH, damn man.  That’s a gentle touch you got there.”
     “His face got very close to Fry’s.  The rank rotten-meat smell of his breath assaulted his nose.  “You remember me telling this stupid witch what was going to happen if she stonewalled or such”  Well, Red, do you?”
     “Yes.”
     “Good, I was afraid I had forgotten t…wait a sec.”  He reached down and slapped Leela across the face, hard.  He smiled when a tear welled in ther eye.  Well, I suggest you bitch at her then!  If you want to hit her and can do so chained to your bed; I shall permit that.”  “Gee, Purple Tail, guess one of Fry’s fingers got hurt just now, looks like it got broken.  How bout his left toes?  You th…”
     “Yes, I have purple hair everywhere regular normal women have hair and yes it’s purple between my legs.”
     “Tail?  Was that so damn hard?  You’re ok right now.  We shall play just a little before I leave you and your boyfriend.  Do you two ever play rape where it hurts a little.  Well, this going to be a little like that.  How much it hurts and whether you are alive when we get done or are hurting so much you wish you weren’t will be entirely up to you two.  Do you understand that Red?”
     “Yes, that seems clear”. 
     “You like to play rape, Red?”
     “I don’t have rape someone to get sex.”
     The latex hand slapped Leela and quickly turned into a fist and slammed into her sternum.  “That is a so thinly veiled comment on me that it’s naked.  Got any more observations?  Ok, you got women who are dying to give it away to you; I just got women who are giving it to me and then dying.  Same thing, huh?”  I said, Sa…”
     ”Yes, you and me, we’re like twins.”
     “Ok, what was I say…Oh, yeah.   You like to play rape, maybe with a young, pretty girl?”
     “’Pends on the girl.”
     “Fair enough.  Say, young, pretty, sexy body, nice breasts, naked, purple hair?”
     “Yes, that’s my type.  I would want to take it from her rather than let her give it to me.”
     “Ok!!  You’re going to get your wish.  Right after me in just a little bit.  We have just a little unfinished business, here.”  “Hey, Purple.  You know your boyfriend just saved you from two broken knees.  Wasn’t that nice?  Good job, although I miss not cracking at least one of them.  But I suspect Red is going to forget sooner or later.  How ‘bout you Purple?  You getting the subtleties of this?”
     “I understand.”
     “Bravo.  Two reasonably quck learners.  What a team!!”
     “Ok.  First question.  To Red.  Where is Susan Anderson?”
     “I just came out of a coma—less than an hour ago.  She was not here.  I don’t know where Suzy James is at this time.  I have no reason not to tell you.”
     “…Red!...sigh...Ok.”   He turned ninety degrees and brought his boot down on Leelas knee.  She screamed for two solid minutes and finally settled into sobbing.  Fry’s mouth was open as he looked at Leela and then the obscenely large blaster that was almost in his mouth and then back and forth.  “Red…I think you just broke your girl friend’s knee.  You want to go for one more?  I’m pretty sure there is another knee down there but they are going fast.”
     “What!!?  What did I do?  Why…?”
     “You’re letting your mind wonder.  Now think…carefully.  Did I ask you about Susan James?  If I did, I am going to be so friggin’ embarrassed and will have to get Purple here a new knee…maybe one of yours.  Now what did I ask you?”
     Leela stopped crying.  She tried to remember what he had asked Fry.  If there had been any question in her mind, it was confirmed once again that this jerk was certifiably crazy. 
     “Hurry up Fry, Leela’s right knee is starting to get nervous.”
     “You asked…No…No…Oh….are you kid…you asked if I knew where Susan Anderson and I said James.  Is that it?” 
     “Ok, then.  Better late than never.  Next time, it’s going to be at least three broken ribs but you get to pick out which ones.  So think, next time.  ‘No reason’, huh?  How ‘bout if it affects the virginity and health of your girl friend here?”
     ……”Oh…I mean Leela told me that Susan…Susan Anderson says she no longer loves me.  I have no reason to lie for her.  I assume her not loving me is the reason why she isn’t here.” 
     “Whoa.  No longer, huh?  When?  When did she say this?”
    “I guess it…”
     “Purple, damn it.  You said Leela told you.  Well?”
     “Five days ago.”
     “Ok, where is she?”
     “I don’t know.  If she is at her apartment, she is not answering her phone.  She didn’t tell me.  She has not talked to me at all since we had a fight about her not loving Fry.  She was bailing out” 
     “Fry.  No more love for you, Fry!  That must have made you sad or was it really mad?  You get hungry when get mad.  You like a good kielbasa like Susan did?”
     “I never had it, er one.  Sausage, right?”
     “Yep,  tube sausage..natural casing—very nice raw or cooked.  This was Hamtramck but where two or more Poles gather…Susan liked to put her lips over it and suck.  Made you think of all kinds of things when she did that.  But she liked to slowly get the meat juices out of the link, you know?  Had to suck the chrome off an antique Caddylak to get it through that casing.”
     “We never had one.  I never saw her do it.”
    “It’s ok.  I believe you.  See this blaster here?”
     “Yes.  It’s a K4.  A newish one from S&W-Colt.”
     “Ok, you don’t know your sausages but you know your blasters.  Fair enough.  I want you to pretend it’s a kielbasa—a really good one.  You suck on that till you start getting the meat juice.  Ok?”
     “Alrig…mmmph.”
     “Shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.  Don’t hear or see you sucking!  Ok, ok.  Getting anything?”
     “Mmmph!”
     “How ‘bout now?”
    “Mmmm.”
   There was a loud noise and the entire back of Fry’s head disappeared.  There was not enough skull to support the remaining head and the burning charred and bloodied skin and bone collapsed into a small smoking heap on his shoulders and the lifeless form lay in the bed still.  There was no more yearning for something he could never have.  There was no more lust coursing through his body.  All laughter, all pain, all joy: everything ended.  Leela screamed and screamed and screamed.  Her mind had exploded.  There was nothing left except the scream which seemed to have a life of its own.  Leela, although her heart still beat, did not.
      “How about now?”
     Leela continued to lie face down on the floor and occasionally she would pound and kick the floor but it was more half-hearted.  She had stopped screaming but she now sobbed uncontrollably.  Sooz gone and Fry, above her and very, very dead.  She wanted to kill herself.  She knew that, she just had not figured out the how but the when was ASAP. 
     She never heard the shuffling steps come up behind her, or the long extended sigh.  The person over stood there for some time glancing between Fry and then Leela and finally stooped down.  A latex surgical gloved-hand went to her shoulder and then neck caressing it.  The other hand went to the neck and moved up to her face with its long graceful fingers caressing her forehead while the thumb rested in Leela’s eye socket over the paper thin eye lid.  The right hand arched on itself, the fingers probed into her fine long purple hair and the thumb bent inward as if to pluck out her lavender eye.  It was then Leela noticed she was being touched and starteled.  She froze, hardly daring to breath and her eye remained closed but clutched shut even more.  Gauze covered lips were on her neck, and then kissed her breast both at the open  and through a thin layer of cotton.  She thought of grabbing that wrist and bending the hand  back and bringing knee high, maybe she could hook her caresser.  But her back was going to have to drop and he was pressed in behind her.  His position would stop her.  Where was his groin?  It was too easy to block her hand if she went after him that way.   She calculated the angle of her arm turning and striking his carotid and maybe hope for a thrombosis with the trauma.  Could she gather and martial enough force from here and…The fingers curled and cupped Leela’s breast and squeezed gently and she realized her shirt was being pulled up by his other hand.  She shuttered.  His warning her that the rape was coming only made it worse.  Was it calculated to do that?  How would Amy put it, she actually smiled a second before the obvious hit her.  She was about to be raped and he promised it would hurt.  Her shirt was finally pulled off and both gloved hands grabbed her and…Oh, god.  He’s got damn falsies on.  Sicko.  He grinded his chest and brassiere into her back.  His hands abandoned her breasts and tried to inch their way down into her undies.  Maybe his angle will prevent…She then felt the latex fingers probing between her legs and inside her and she gritted her teeth and shut her eye.  She tried to imagine Fry and her on the Beach at Seraphim.  He had been putting sun screen on and his fingers were applying it where there wasn’t much sun but who knows how you can get a burn these days.  She desperately tried to coordinate reality with her imagination and she started pushing into the gloves and felt the physiological changes happening right now in her body and kept thinking of Fry over and over.  Would it be a betrayal to him if she actually…Wait a minute.  He can’t hurt Philip any more.  And what can he do to me now that Fry is dead.  Hit me?  I am going to try and maybe I shall get my wish and he will kill me.  Good.   Just wait for it.  And I sure as hell do not want this psycho giving me an orgasm.  The hands left her.  Her rapist was moving.  She couldn’t hook him now even though she could now lean back; he wasn’t there anymore.  The blue robed assailant knelt between her legs she had pushed open.  She pushed her blue capped-head toward her ripping off the mask and burying her head between her legs.  She knew his tongue was going to follow but she leaned back a little and thrust her hips up and wrapped her long legs around this jerk.  Her legs were the most muscled part of her body.  Besides hundreds of daily kicks and runs, she leg-pressed over four sets of 500lb ten reps.with full extension and then held it with one leg and then its toes and let it down with the other.  She laughed at girlfriends who had tried to get her to use their thighmasters.  One grab of her very hard and conditioned aductor or vastor, or tensor educated the ignorant.  This creep between her legs was getting a private demonstration and she tightened them further and felt the lactate burn as she held it.  It had to be limiting his oxygen supply as well as his ability to hit back.  Despite her ache which was turning into acute pain she ratcheted it up again. The fake psycho doctor brought her hand up, fingers rigid and not flexed into a fist and brought it down with all of her might into Leela’s groin.  The other fisted hand hit her solar plexus hard and she had to relax her legs to get her breath. 

[You were so warned.  Aw, man!!  I hate myself.  Quck, someone, demand a re-write.  Tomorrow, a double funeral?]

[Reply #52 on:]

Stolen from Freako1:

[/quote]

Ah, not wanting to buy a ban for crtiticizing a story, but you really should invest in a beta reader.  For the people still reading, I wonder if they are as lost as I am with this tory?

As for Fry and Leela, they are so out of character it's criminal.

[Reply #53 on:]

Sorry you do not like the work and I assume you are talking about unfixed mistakes--yeah, they bother me too.  Probably more a matter of ignorance in working and editing with this site than software.  I respect your honesty and opinion although I would debate the issue that the characters are that far out of their canon.  I just allowed them to go where they might not where they are.  Hope you find more satisfying reads.

[Reply #54 on:]

[The vote was a tie among an overwhelming two.  I get to decide...]

Her closed eye finally opened so she could see where he had gone.  She blinked twice, not believing it, just before Susan’s foot caught her in the chin so hard her head flexed back fast and was the first thing to hit the floor before the rest of her followed back.  “Wow, what a great kick!” was her thought before the pain came.  She tried to rise and was planning on taking the mandatory eight-count but wisely said, ‘Screw it’ and just laid flat on her back with stars and halos still circling.  She had a concussion which was quite a trick considering the vectors of the resulting force in relation to her normally tough scull.  But she rolled on her side just enough to throw up and clear her throat and nose before flopping back and just lying there—and twirling in her dizziness and ache. 
     Suzy, who had feared for her life just minutes before turning irate, now leaned over her like a very polite and concerned vulture.  She did not know what to do or say.  Had Leela gone crazy?  Some sort of weird drug reaction?  Hallucination or military flashback?  It would be several more minutes before she asked herself about a dream or nightmare:  She then got scared—terrified.  When she entered the room, she glanced at Fry but it was Leela, sprawled on the floor, sobbing and pounding the floor that commanded her full attention.  ‘What had happened?  Her mind switched back to Fry!  Had something happened to him?  It did not look like Leela finally succumbed to the frustration and the grind of not knowing and fear.  ‘Something had happened.  Had he wakened and rejected her?  Was he dead or…??  It then hit her, er rather she had hit her:  She had slammed her fist into Leela’s solar plexus.  Had she hurt the baby—her baby, too?  Oh my gods!!!!’
     Leela finally opened her eye and blinked for a minute and then looked into the deep blue eyes of Susan staring questioningly deep into Leela’s soul for some answers.
     “Sooz!!!!  You’re back; you came back!”
     “Well, yes.  Leela…”
     “Do you forgive me?  Oh Suzy, I missed you but I’m glad you weren’t here…when…Oh sooz, there was nothing I could do; I thought maybe we had cooperated sufficiently for us to…Oh, my Precious…I was more crazy than him to think we could appease—molify—that animal!  It wasn’t crazy; it was just dumb!  I think I’m going crazy.  I was so sad.  And then so happy.  When I saw Fry had woken and…”
     “Fry!  He was awake?  He came out of the coma?”  He…he’s back a…sleep, it still looks like he is sleeping so safely, so soundly…”
     “That is horribly denialistic and euphemistic way to say he is dead!!  I want to believe that.  I want to believe he is heaven right now watching us.  I…”
     “What…?”
     “Maybe if you didn’t see him…Maybe if you didn’t hear the diodes click and the capacitor fill and the blaster release…The whole room exploded before Fry’s head did!  Maybe if you don’t look at the back of his skull and see it’s gone…m…”
     Susan James suddenly rose and removed her hand from Leela’s cheek.  She reached out and lifted Fry’s red haired-head gently from the pillow an inch an kissed him twice before returning his lovely quiet head back to its Dow-Phizer ™ synthetic-down© nest.”  She looked at Leela who still huddled on the floor.  Now she was more terrified than ever!
     “He was in here.  I don’t know why he left and didn’t kill me or rape me or…Oh, Susan, he was so ugly…so vicious and mean.  An animal…a very sick and violent dangerous killing animal…a mad tiger.  He…!”
     “Leela!  Leela, I think you were deaming.  You had a nightmare.”
     “No, he was right here.  His thick calloused strong hands were on my breast and they squeezed so hard, they hurt.  He had on surgical gloves and he was gowned and a surgical cap and the paper slippers…just like you.  They hurt so badly but I…….was afraid to call out because I was afraid it might excite him—the animal even more.  He promised that he was going to rape me.  He promised it would hurt but he said he would leave me alone, leave us alone if we cooperated, if we did not give him a hard time and answered his questions.  He wanted only to know where you…But we refused to tell him.  That’s when he got angry.  He broke my knee!”  She pointed to the knee she had just flexed and now kneeled on.  “He turned vicious and… And…and I thought it was him starting his assault on me.  Oh Sooz, I am so sorry but in my mind, it was him—he was kissing me; he was holding my breasts and touching me.  I can’t believe I failed to recognize your sensual and caring touch and sweet kisses.  I’m sorry; I was just terrified and couldn’t think and since Fry was dead; it didn’t matter.  I didn’t care if he killed me; I wanted him to but I would rather if I was the one who strangled him first and then I could die—alone!”
     “Leela, Fry is sleeping.  I assume he is still in his coma or maybe he came out of it and is now sleeping.  He is neither wounded nor shot dead.  His head if fine other than his amnesia is still occurring and he still has that slightly boyish and goofy look I love so much.  Leela, I don’t think you had any visitor except in your nightmare and of course me…just now.  I tried to tell the idiots outside that this quarantine had nothing to do with microbes but they made me suit up anyway.  I am so sorry if I triggered a reaction.  You have been under so much preasure recently.”
     “But…”
     “Stand up Leela.  Give me a hug and get into bed next to Fry and hold him.  Hold him tight and feel that he’s alive.  Rub him and let him show you; hold onto him.  It feels wonderful to him, even in his dreams, because of his immediate response.  If it still is too scary; hold onto me but I warn you, I will rape you if you promise not to choke me.  C’mon…smile just a tiny…that was a joke.”
     Leela did neither.  She sat on the edge of the bed, closed her eye and cried.  They were tears of relief, but they wracked her body and emptied her.  Ten minutes later she let Susan ravish her body and then held Fry until she fell off into a dreamless and refreshing nap. 
     *****
     Two rooms down and on the other side of the wide hall, Nurse Cratchitt followed eight pretty girls and one very young man into Mr. Doe’s room.  She left the light off.  She was very well aware that her students were much more nervous in the half dark:  Things looked differently and objects and tools and charts were not where they thought they were.  They felt at the loss they were actually at but denied it most of the time.  “When you enter a patient’s room, unless the ringmaster has just announced you and there is an honest to god strobe on you, you do not come in with a brass bass behind you waving to the crowd and throwing jube jubes.  Tip toe is better; in the dark is also good.  “Sally….Sally, do you need the light on so you do not fall asleep?  Would you like Bill here to tuck you in or whatever?”  Bill blushed in the dark but was still noted by the seven others.  The eighth had grown so small; she had just about disappeared and no noticed that she had actually blushed more.  “Sally, are you with us now?  Good.  Please wake Mr. Doe and do what you think is best for the situation.  We shall stand back here and not presume to criticize…yet.”
     The prettiest and shortest girl of the group and probably would have the same status with a group ten to twenty times as large, gently walked up to the sleeping John Doe.  She laid her hand on his left wrist gently squeezing it.  “Mr. Doe?  I’m afraid I have to wake you for your medications.  Would you like me to assist you in sitting up?  Ooh, good job.  Ok, I know your smiling face—that is irony as you well know since that is one of the most fierce frowns we’ve had in here since that awful Atilla in B20.  Is water ok or would you like a little soda or maybe take them dry to impress me.”
     “Ice water…but the ice melted a long time ago.  I couldn’t raise any one’s attention.”
     ‘Oh dear.  I apologize for that.  We had two simultaneous emergencies and it taxed our recources significantly.  Let me leave your meds here and I’ll run down and get some.”
     “Good job, Doe.  Excellent grump and cooperative but passive aggressive behavior…going for an Oscar?  We’ll get you some ice water in a couple of minutes.  Here take your meds now with this, Oh my god…warm water.  Good man, all seven.  Please be quiet for just a minute or two.  Ok kids, feedback.  Who wants to comment?  First, bad:  Come on…  Wendy?  Give us your wisdom, please.”
     “I thought some of it was good except I didn’t like the questioning and apologizing.  Don’t give him a choice; let him know who’s boss.  And she left his meds in there alone and would not be able to account what happened if any were missing.”
     “K.  First part:  Coming from you, Wendy, I find that interesting.  How would you take it as a patient?”
     “I, er, me:  I am not a patient; I am a nurse”.
     “Not bloody yet!!!!  Not it if I have anything to say about it…oh…I do.  And even nurses get sick and get to see how the other ninety five live.  In all due respect to a student of your stature—zip—please let me say, you demand every bit of respect that is due to you in your opinion.  You are going to have a problem with your attitude toward you the patient, don’t you think?  You’re wrong Wendy.  You are going to demand a choice whether you deserve one or not.  Second part:  What are the meds he is being given?”
     “Uh…”
     “Didn’t read his chart?  I handed a copy to each as they entered.  Did I miss you?”
     “Uh, I forgot, I was too busy putting the room and the patient into perspective.”
     “You have enough light?”
     “The small light on the bed gave me enough to see the patient.”
     “I mean to paint or sketch.  You were checking your perspective…or what?”
      “Sally, what meds did you leave him alone with?”
     “Two regular dose aspirin, one vitamin C, two 250ml oxycodone placebos and ‘one respect-builder’—the chart said—a big sugar horsepill.”
     “Would you have left had those placebos been real?”
     “No ma’am.  He would have either used the warm room water or dry swallowed them with the warm chaser.”
     “Very good, Sally.  Sally weren’t you first flute in the Walla Walla Orchestra—oldest continuing orchestra west of the Mississippi states and maybe taught at Whitman University?  I think you also were flautist—first or second like you great42 grandmother--for the San Francisco Orchestra?” 
     “Yes ma’am.” 
       “And you left all that, the applause, the conductor’s acknowledgement, his special interest in you, perhaps?  That must have been very rewarding for you and maybe exciting and simulative.”
     No ma’am…just the day job.  When, er, excuse me…if I get established as a nurse, I can still play.  Being a principal and getting paid is way over-rated and it doesn’t pay that much—just about a new black dress every eight months and guarantees you a less than minimum wage day job.”
     Excellent priorities.  I have heard you with the orchestras, of course but also with some solo parts.  You play well.  When you graduate and receive your pin, maybe you might play a Bach for us.  I have some lovely flute suggestions but you probably have your own favorites.  I don’t think Wendy here is going to be able to attend.”
     “Do you play flute or anything Wendy?  Well no matter, there are other things.  But as a nurse?   I’m having a hard time imagining it, can you not choose the options to be chosen that would be acceptable and a win regardless.  You have to think that way.  If not, the exit is behind you.  Please decide now so as not to waste my time as well as waste our time.”
     “It would have been more fair to ask whom thought she did everything correctly.  And you don’t get to answer now since you know the answer now; everything was done correctly and I am pleased.  Well done, Sally.  Pretty girls can think.”
     Sally surprised her as well as her classmates and mostly herself.  “That is most interesting.  I found a picture of you in your nursing class, Ma’am.  You were beautiful—a lot more pretty and chic than me.  I have heard you downplay your performance but I checked the archives; your grades even in this final year were exemplarily and there were medals and awards.  I would be honored if I followed your footsteps, even a little, Ma’am.” 
     No one had ever experienced Nurse Cratchitt speechless before or blushing.  The students drifted away without instruction after a few minutes still tittering.
*****
     “Hah, I thought so.  Despite your lies.”
     “Well you took your medications.  I suspect it is time for a vicious enema about now.”
     “I take it back.  You are ugly and you are stupid now as you ever were.  Are the meds I am taking mostly placebos?”
    “Not the ones I give you.  I don’t begin to trust those little idiots with your synthetics yet.  I sense a loss of conviction but I accept your evaluation.  How are you Mr. Doe?”
     “I still don’t remember anything.  We had a conversation a little while ago I am interested in thinking about.  When you said I was not employed by whom I thought but the devil himself.  What prompted that evaluation?”
     “Mr. Doe, the  only conversation other than a short one we had concerning student nurses was when I offered to tell you who I am if you reciprocated.  I did not mean to imply you were faking your condition and that you actually tell me your name.”
    “No!  After that!”
     “I’m afraid that was either you imagination or a dream.  I have little knowledge of you and I don’t form opinions without it.  Can I bring you something?”
     “Odd…No, no thank you.  He frowned as she turned, about to leave.  He still felt there had been a conversation that implied she knew a very surprising amount about him as well as his sins and habits and employment.  He thought she was lying but did not know why or what he was going to do about it yet.  If only he knew, who, what and why he was and what was his sins and employment?  Were his bizarre dreams really hints or just taunts?”
     “Crachitt, why do you think I want to rape Sally and even that prig, Wendy so much—especially the prig?”
     “It’s from your Fall and your lust and your hate.  You fell from the very top:  The most loved, the most powerful to……Oh!  Damn!  Mr. Doe, that was not very nice of you!”
     “Come back when you finish your rounds.  We have much to talk about.  And I shall want to ask you about your Roman chaplain:  Whether he believes and is any good.”
     “I….I was speaking allegorically…but yes, we do have much to talk of……you will be gentle when the time comes?”
     “The gentlest I know how to.  Please go so you can come back…but if…..I shall most certainly find you and I know other ways as well.”
     ‘Well, that memory should last ten to twenty minutes until is morphed into a dream; good luck on remembering.’
*****
Department of Vital Information and Statistics.  Public Information Dvsn.
Memorandum CJ-A-444277    to:    Susan James Anderson     from: Sr. Juan de Sevilla-Francisco de Angeles, A4+
re:  DNA/saliva—A5  sample
     ‘Ms. Anderson, We regret the delay due to running additional tests on your cigarillo you posted to our attention.  There is no record in effect from the saliva from said cigarillo.  I was ready to send you that information several days ago when I noted a curious thing.  The end of the dna sample’s link most similar (if there was one) is missing—just the last two lines—as well as the first line of the next record.  It most certainly appears that someone—with way more access that an A4+ has, erased it.  A C4 most certainly would not have been that sloppy with the other records; I am ashamed at senior bureaucracy some times.  You of course could put in a freedom of information request to either the CIA or NSA but I suspect you would only receive only laughter back. Regardless:  Most curious, Ms. Anderson:  Curiouser and curiouser!!   JdSF—A4+’
*****
     Mr. Clarance Thomas, MBA, LLD, PhD and CEO of CK Beth Israel MC was a pleasant middle aged black man who sexually harassed his assistant and secretary daily and had the heart of a slug and just about the same body temperature.  Despite his degrees, he was not intelligent and would never, ever admit he had gained entrance, job interviews as well as success by virtue of a specific quota system that gave preference to his race.  Something he violently opposed for any other Black or anyone else for that matter.  ‘Let them make it on their own merit’ he is famously and ironically quoted at.  All things being equal, he would spend his days asking “Do you fries with that?”  He sat across from the seated Mr. Burkhart and brought his fingertips together—the external body language of the CEO indicating he was trying to bring the dollar signs together in a row.  “I’m sorry but I failed to catch how much the federales are willing to give me—for the medical center of course?”
     “Of course.  I thought I had clearly explained that there is no budget for this operation.  It is vital to  the agency, the country, this state, and NNY but there is no budget.”
     “Which means it is either not vital or someone else is budgeted.”
     “That was the reference to NNY.  The people assigned are ineffectual and some of which—to prove the point—are now dead.” 
     “Maybe the undead should come see me.”
     “Maybe I could get Spider to visit you as well and…your wife or are you only interested in that Administrative Assistant I saw you pestering with you against her and her butt up against an ugly gray set of electronic file cabinets.  Two things, Mr. Biltmore—EOC and your wife’s attorney.”
     “You’re really CIA?  You throw out veiled and naked threats to bad guys and agents all day long and you give me that?  Listen, Jerko, I go up against the damned Teamsters and Rocketmen as well as those jerks, the longshoremen, every day of the week and twice on Sunday and they give me better than that.  I also have been vetted by your beloved federales more than once and I pay my wife’s attorney twice her retainer fee to look out for my interests as well concerning her mundane legal issues.  I shall give you ten seconds to leave these premises or else ask you to donate your body for research.  Now get the hell out of my office and my medical center, Twerp.”
     “Should have joined the Teamsters AR like my old man wanted me too.”  Burkhart opined to Anita H, the lovely and long suffering AdAsst.
     “Hey,  Buddy…thanks for the dig.  I am Anita to you anytime and I very much appreciate it.  I’d show you some physical attention as an indication of my seriousness and respect but ol’ twelve inches in there keeps me too damned tired and sore.  On your way out just before you enter the med center proper, turn right into Christopher Brown’s office, he’s chief of staff and is not interested in dollar signs as long as it doesn’t cut too much into his pathetically small budget.  Too much fat—all sitting in the office you just exited.  Fat and one foot exactly.”
     “He just used it on me.  I didn’t realize I got the whole foot.”
     “Oh, dear.  You do need me.  Come back after you’re through with Dr. Brown and we’ll check out some filing/ copy rooms or I could just kiss it and make it better.”
     “Ms. Hill, your offer is going to be filed next to my heart even though I cannot ascent although I want to shake my head violently.  But may I ask a painful question?  Did the damned GOP attorneys question your lewdness with such invitations you may have made to very fortunate—more so than me, men?”
     “Every single one and a few they made up!  Ten of ‘em who said I was a slut; all of the slugs made out like bandits and were advanced way beyond their capabilities or talent, not unlike Mr. Lardbutt in there.  Who you gonna believe…an ugly over-paid administrator or his jealous fairly attractive under-paid woman assistant cougar?  Fudge it!”
*****
     “Miss, would you please give Dr. Brown my card and ask him if he has a minute.”
     “Ooh, Central Intelligence Agency.  A real spy?  Doctor Brown is very busy and does not have time for you but I guarantee you he will fit you in as soon as he sees your card.  He’s as big on spies as I am, Mr. Bond.  If you have time tonight, I love my martinis stirred and not shaken.”
     “Sorry, switched from gin to scotch when I was twenty.  One looks good; the other tastes good.”
     “I’m all ears and breasts, Jems.”
     “Tell you what.  You get me a notarized note from my wife, Carol and I shall happily and lustily give you the whole James Bond and Burkhard deal, not as much as your infamous Mr. Thomas down the hall but sufficient..  But first the note!”
*****

[Sorry--another dream sequience; cheap trick~   But how many did not panic 'cause they saw the mixed use of him and her?  Still am going to have to kill off somebody pretty soon]

[Reply #55 on:]

Sorry you do not like the work and I assume you are talking about unfixed mistakes--yeah, they bother me too.  Probably more a matter of ignorance in working and editing with this site than software.  I respect your honesty and opinion although I would debate the issue that the characters are that far out of their canon.  I just allowed them to go where they might not where they are.  Hope you find more satisfying reads.

You're being a tad thin-skinned.  I did not say I did not like it; there are parts that I have.  However, things get confusing at times:  Is this a dream sequence or not?  Leela and Suzy would have hot lesbian love on a hospital floor?  Fry seems to have increased his IQ by several points?   

This could easily be a story about Frank and Lila - two unknown people.  As it is, some things are really out of character.  I don't think that Leela would ever think that Fry would rape her - he respects and fears her way too much.

Suzy is a waitress at a future iHop yet doctors allow her to give orders?

All I'm saying is enlist the aid of a beta, to bring some order to the story.  It may flow great from your perspective but you know what you have in mind, unless you're writing on the fly.  To the readers, it harshly jerks from place to place making it difficult to follow.

If you take this as harsh criticism, I can't help that.  If you step back and say, "I'll write a chapter, have somebody  proof-read it, make corrections, then post it," then I'm sure your story may get a lot more respect.

That is all.

[Reply #56 on:]

     A 'tad'--one of those lovely relative adj--yes, of course: a poor conclusion based on insufficient evidence.  I may not have made it clear at the time but beyond 'respecting your honesty' I was delighted to receive some feedback.  Much of the time, I am writing this in a vacuum and have no clue as to whether there is one thing wrong with it or the entire batch; I am smart enough to know it is somewhere in between.  You make an excellent point: proof reader(s): originally I had several enthusiastic editiors who were willing to invest time in reading, critically reading, editing, talking and story boarding.  The story was finished and it was because of them it was as good as it was.
     Somewhere in the middle, I expanded one character just a little, tiny bit and as if she had a life of her own, she branched out and brought a past and present with her that grew rapidly into what is now twice the original story and I think-I hope-I want to bring it back into a relatively seamless graft with the original.  My readers, and I don't begin to question their priorities in life, abandoned me mostly out of the time requirements.  My dog, a lovely intelligent half black lab & golden, remains interested but sorely lacking and maybe is still here because of the milk bones.  Maybe one of Koontz’ goldies.
      So, yes, you are right and many times it is not flowing all that well from my perspective.  And as you suspect, it is rather being written on the fly--I am one day ahead at the moment and gods help us if this has to go online as I type.  I do proofread, better than this note, which  also should have been, but I am surprised how even the incorrect word or missing altogether alludes me.
      Yes.  Fry's dream sequence--a cheap plot device but sometimes affective--is complete. 
     Sex on floor--ok, overly enthusiastic--however the hospital room is in quarantine and easy access is limited although you can't tell it much of the time (maybe ok).  Either one can seem to order security to go outside (also unrealistically).  Neither are a bit shy and don't seem to mind running around topless or naked during brief periods  (ok).  They will probably be interrupted but may unrealistically only show mild embarrassment (maybe ok).  And, of course, the author knows they only have a window of few days to experience a lifetime of emotions and being together bordering on as you say unrealistically. 
     My take on Fry and this continues to playout in the story, is that he acts the way we expect him to--as a goofball of middling intelligence--because he has become conditioned to do so for psychological payoffs and it’s easier.  He plays the clown for laughs even when no one does so.  Why challenge someone with intelligence when going with the flow and easy acceptance has a constant payback?  Part of me and many that I know are part-Frys in that respect (ok). 
     Leela has some issues and baggage that does not come out till the end which contribute and exacerbates her rape assumption.  The facts--as she clearly saw—Fry is in bed with her uninvited and way off base: naked without her signature blue nightie and is rudely awakened by Fry kissing and touching her was so beyond her expectations--as you accurately describe--she is forced to conclude date rape and the anger inherent in the Leela of canon would clearly demand a reaction.  On some level before anger overwhelms her, she would be very surprised he was capable of this and she might even question her assumptions.  Perhaps I am wrong but I think this is ok. 
     Ok--I dislike superman as a character unless it really is our superman.  I enjoyed creating the character but may have gone too far in the above.  What is out of character is that she's a waitress/hostess but she does need to work.  She probably was very lucky in getting the right doctor to respond to her demand to confirm the diagnosis and sample in the emergency.  She had functioned as a physician for several years in an active warzone and received formal and informal training for that way beyond her normal training and experience as a corpsman.  This and her activity in following is observed by the outofsight chief of staff who recognizes some unique aspects to her.  He gives her inordinate access to Fry and is ordered to be referred to by the honor of doctor but Fry is continued to treated by him and other physicians with no indication that she plays any role medically other than as an advocate.  OK, but rather tenuous but kinda possible, sort of: way-sort of. 
     I apologize for the jumps and oversights and non-seamless re-joinings.  I know it is distracting and may have caused way more than one to jump ship.  I am published but in technical subjects and this is, literally, in another world.  I might have some good ideas and may exhibit some good writing but maybe not enough to pull it off.  Maybe you might be so kind to tell me when to pull the plug and let the poor thing die a natural death.  Two or three of those should be sufficient.
     This feedback has been more than wonderful and may I say again how much I appreciate you taking the time to write and send.  Thanx from the still living Fry--may he always be such.

[Reply #57 on:]

     “How can I help you, Sir.  My secretary was agog with the news, especially with your supposedly suave refusal of her excellent services I have once or twice been offered when I was a very good boy.” 
     “You have a patient admitted to your center that is a target of a man I am after.  I would like to keep him alive as well as two women who are rather attached to him as well as each other.  Would I have to step in front of a mover or speedster to get admitted or just break my arm in a vice to get admitted to the same floor.”
     “Hmmm, that would be seventh floor, the excellent Nurse Cratchitt’s and that obviously is Mr. Fry with Leela and Susan.  Delightful talented and special women.  He must be some guy!!!!  I don’t see any problem with that.  We have one vacancy there at the moment.  If that room is needed, I hope you would not mind if you doubled you up with someone who was not on a preferred standing contract.  You want a cast or bandages, maybe on your hand covering the blaster underneath or in traction with a shotgun or an assault rifle as part of it.  If you want to put your arm in a vice for the fun of it; go for it.”
     “Ha ha ha ha ha.  You have a future in the CIA Doc Brown as an assistant to Mr.Z, our beloved but crazy armorer either that or that nut case, Dr. Emmett Brown.”
     “If you are going to use those allusions, I suggest you try Bellevue, third through seventh floors.  Take this to Admitting.  I’m putting you down as Mr. Doe so please don’t show your ID to anyone who asks unless they have a blaster and a badge.  And may I assume you don’t mind if run a few tests for the nursing students to familiarize themselves with and some really simple local procedures.  It would help us and our students out.  We might even find or fix something.  I shall inform the nurse up there by the time you arrive.  Please try to watch out for her as well as your other three; she is special.  Some of the others…oh, best forget I said that.  Good luck.”
     “Oh, one quick second:  You said a second John Doe.  When did the first one arrive?”
     “Let me see.  That was the day after the arrival of Dr. Susan James and the attack by one of ‘our’ doctors; three days ago but ask the nurse for sure.”
     “Fry was attacked” 
     “Damn close.  Susan, the faux doctor, saved him very adequately.”
    “Any more attempts?” 
    “We put three security in there along with the two women, perhaps that discouraged him.”
     “It would make it more difficult but would not discourage him.  He would enjoy it more as a challenge. 
     “I would think five against one would surely deter him even if he was determined.”
     “You would not have heard it on the news but there was a school that burned near here.  There were close to one hundred bodies at the site.  All well charred but each had had his throat slit prior to the burning.  Do you still think five would slow him down much?  Oh and last question before admitting.  What is Mr. Doe, Senior in here for?”
     “Originally a lot of concussion, trauma, broken bones and amnesia.”
     “Amnesia, huh?  Fancy that!!  Thanx, doc.”
     “You’re welcome.  Will you be making yourself known to the las mademoiselles?”
     “Probably not but I might have some questions I might surreptitiously ask them.”
     “Very good.  If, while you are on the floor, you are able to keep an eye on both of them—well, that would be the three.  Like I said, they are sweet and special.  Good hunting and good luck and I strongly suspect and predict fast healing to you.  Let me know if I might be of further assistance.  We shall try to stay out of your way, otherwise.  Oh, and you may want to make my day and consider the Drs. Clarence Thomas to be a prime suspect.  You might want to shoot first and question his guilty philandering butt later.”
     “I’ll make it a freebie for you and his admin-asst, Anita.” 
     “Good girl.  Damn shame about her boss.  It went to EOC but the hearing found against her.  They could not see that a black man, even if he obviously lied and told half-truths, could possibly harass a black woman—like he had a right because he was black and he was a man for gods sakes.  They assumed she lied so people would point fingers at her and talk behind her back and have her career ruined.  I can see that would be a strong motivation for anyone.”
*****
Department of Vital Information and Statistics.  Public Information Dvsn.
Memorandum CJ-A-444728   to:    Susan James Anderson     from: Sr. Juan de Sevilla-Francisco de Angeles, A4+
Re:  dna sample
Ms. Anderson, I contacted you last week that I was unable to find anything on your sample.  And that is still the case within our department.  However, being curious, I sent your sample to   
NY State.  Department of Vital Information & Statistical Abstracts.  Public Information Bureau and asked them to check their files.  We received an answer back yesterday with the following information that I assumed you would still be interested in.
Sample: previously lit and smoked illicit Cubano Cigarillo presumably La Matadorita and saliva obtained from.  Received from CIA field office laboratory.  San Francisco, CA province.  See NSA3473010.
Finding: New York Correctional Center admissions sample A1992:3427:       
2992. Steve ‘Silver/Silver Surfer’ Silvitch, age 14: was arrested for murder by NNYPD.  He was sentenced  by NYCC at Ossining to life having been a juvenile when the crime was committed.  Hit ‘enter/ALT’ for finger prints    Hit  ‘enter/CTRL’ for recent photo
Parallel entry:  USE Dept of Justice; super security dvsn:
2994. 247827-J100:CLOSE, inmate Steve Silvitch,  age 16:  USE Dept Justice:  admission to Leavenworth CC.    HIT (ENTER-CONTROL) FOR RECENT PHOTO; (ENTER-ALTERNATIVE) FOR finger prints.  (ENTER CONTROL/ALT) FOR VOICE RECORD and RETINA SCAN
END RECORD 3010C10744
“You FEDS owe us one.  We accept payment in cases of long neck returnables or Ferrari Rocketrosas D-3s   If you guys got some qualified non mafia personnel there, you would not have to come to our capos.”  TB&JB OUT  3010278174
*****
     Nurse Cratchitt did not swear very often and if she did it was because she poured herself an extra shot of the good stuff—single malt, Glentimmohy aged in French Oak, 50years.  She really reamed out her students today, cold sober.  “Damn it and damn you all!!  That was the most absolute pathetic display of…of…I certainly cannot call it Nursing Skills…crap, I guess.  Pure crap.  All of you are grounded.  No liberty.  Any granted are hereby cancelled.  Tonight is Pizza-night with a surprise shipment from the interesting Captain Zap, who can’t stand the briny little fishies—anchovies!  And a new batch of brewmaster’s reserve Black Butt Porter!  None of it for you slugs—you all get one nutrabar each—that remarkably tasteless and chewy crap you’ll find in the Mental Health Ward—where you are surely sending me--whence you will each clean every single toilet there twice.  And I better, by god, see my pretty face—Jill!  I heard that: three times for you--in the urinals whether I use one or not.  Drink the water in your rooms.  Lights out at 20.00hours and you rise at 04.00hours and clean the toilets twice in the nurses lounge.  That will be as close as any of you will ever get.  Now get the hell out of here.”  ‘Maybe I should retire.  I should talk to Christopher and Dean Brittain.  I’m too old for this crap and the kids get younger and more stupid every year.  Crap.  Pure crap.  Where’s my scotch.  I would bet Mr. Doe the First would share a small one with me.  Let’s see if he remembers as far back as this morning.’
     “Scotch-time if you want a small one—25ml.  No ice for bad boys whom did not finish their lemon pudding at lunch.”
     “2.5 or 25, a veritable treat and so unexpected.  I hope that’s your in the bigger glass.”
     “I thought you might like to share a quick one.  After that, we are going to stretch your legs—for the first time; it’s going to hurt.”
     “No herd of stu-dents to torture me?”
     “We don’t have any student nurses this term.  Just buggalo punchers and poor ones at that.  Beberse todo y vamos a un paseo—mano y mano en el paseo.  ?Verdad?”
     “Si y voulez vous coucher avec moi.”
     “I am going to put that down as your inability to hold good liquor or else ask the ophthalmologist to come up and give you a twice over.  Come on, twice around the block, first one way and then engines full in reverse.  Move it, sailor.”
    “By the bye.  That is a handsome butt hanging out there.  A waste of a false name.  Ok on your right now and across the hall is the room where Dr. Anderson resides and cares for her single patient.  I do believe she is cutting in on my Christopher.”
     “Leela exited at that very moment, looked back and said, “I’ll bring back one with double onions and mushrooms this time—no green pepper—and lots of mayo.  She looked at Cratchitt and just barely at her companion on her arm.  I swear.  As much taste as that girl has—myself being the obvious exception—you’d think she would know what a philly cheese and steak is sposed to be.  You guys taking a stroll?”
     “We’re on our paseo.  Join us.”
     “Sounds fun but I got a hungry woman in there and it’s not for me, damn it.  See you guys.”
     “Spider stared after the exiting Leela.  That Cyclops…how long has she been here?”
     “Over a week now,  I just referred to her a minute ago as one of the two women.  Why? And she narrowed her eyes.”
     “I don’t know but I’ve seen her before.  I’m positive.  Could we walk across the hall tonight after my meds but before they start to kick in?”
     “Uh, that is a quarantined room, but I could ask the women if they would like to eat with us in your room.  There is going to be loads of extra pizza since my class seemed to want to go on an immediate crash diet.  Even refused the black butt.  Imagine?  Ok, I’ll ask them before pizza.  Now on your left is our…”
*****
     “You are, at least to me and my staff, John Doe, Junior.  I must say I was rather skeptical but Christ…Dr. Brown was most insisting.  Very unlike him to be excited about anything non-medical.  His enthusiasm, I must say, is infectious because I seem to getting interested.  Now, what are you interested in?”
     “You have a quarantined room as security for a Mr. Fry who has two lovely attendants, Susan James and Turanga Leela.  I am most interested in an assassin who used to work for this USE and agency who has tried to kill Mr. Fry and Ms. James and apparently once on this floor.”
     “Dr. Brown insists we refer to her as Dr. James—Dr. Susan James.  In recognition of her quick thinking in saving Mr. Fry’s life and his respect to an exceptional former corpsman.  That may well be but I suspect the old goat is in love with her as well.  Has good taste if this is the case.”
     “Very well: Fry and Dr. James.”  “This could be a long shot but the killer might also be on this floor but not be a threat as of yet.”
     “I verily quiver with excitement.  I told you I was getting hooked.  Who is this mystery patient or staff?”
     “My father: my surname--Doe, Senior.”
     “Oh…..!!  Somehow, Junior, does not surprise me although I fervently hope that is not the case and you shall nab someone else and we shall all go back to breathing normally with a regular heart beat.  You say not a threat yet; you refer to his amnesia.”
     “Dr. Brown informed you were sharp and observant.  But yes, that and possibly his injuries although I doubt it and the possibility he is not yet aware they are nearby.”
     “I’m afraid the last item is moot; he saw Leela leave her room this evening.  He claimed he did not know but recognized her.  He and they, minus Fry will be having pizza and beer in Senior’s room.  Would you like to join us?”
 *****
     Suzy breathed a sigh of relief after she heard Leela’s characteristic light snoring and watched her twitch her legs and arms.  ‘I wonder if she is fighting me as her assassin all over again?  I’ll wake her is she cries out or starts hitting Fry.  She got out of her chair and sat on the edge of the luxurious hospital bed.  She stroked Leela’s and ran her finger lightly down her back.  She could almost imagine the large woman arching her spine and begin purring.  ‘What a magnificent cat she would make.  To hell with Jill’s allergies, I would take her home and sleep with her and feed her and brush her and…Suzy suddenly realized she missed having sex already with her as a feline and she was forced either to imagine herself as a Tom, which was not all that satisfactory except for biting her on the neck and being able to stretch like that or                                           imagine that she returns back to the woman in her bed.  This was a lovely fantasy and she considered masturbation when the two sleeping bodies both beckoned to her to join them.  She curled up against Leela with her hand holding her breast and her butt reassuringly and comfortably toast pushed up against Fry.  Her snoring grew considerably louder than the other woman’s.
     She entered the room as before but this time her ninja was on top of Leela raping her.  She                                             kicked him in her dream and she smiled at how good that felt.  He went over backwards and tried to rise but Leela grabbed him by his rapist’s tool and pulled and squeezed and  Suzy laughed at his pain and embarrassment and being led around the room.   The ninja pulled a long knife from his kimono type robes and began to slice himself into thin wafers and offered them around the room now packed with spectators.  She tried to see who all were here and saw Jill waving to her from the doorway but obviously disapproving.  She felt somehow sad and acknowledged the wish that someday Jill would join them in a foursome would never transpire.  Jill was back in the room with a tray with champagne flutes and plates of ninja sausage.  She returned to the kitchen to get more but the ninja grabbed her and pulled off her blouse and was about to start slicing on her breast when Suzy rushed into the room and threw a very hard punch into his stomach but somehow it hit Leela who immediately went into labor on the floor of a small rocket propelled ship—a sleek futuristic launch from the huge star cruisers and Fry—Fry was awake!—was between Leela’s legs with alcohol wipes and holding onto blunt scissors like the kind she used to use in second grade and was helping delivering and coaching Leela—he seemed surprisingly knowledgeable and Suzy hoped he would assist in her eventual pregnancy by him.  But the baby, premature and impossibly little but looked like a little girl, looked like a twin of Susan and Fry was crying he was so disappointed because he wanted the baby to have his eyes.  And Leela said it didn’t matter and the Ninja agreed.  But Fry wanted another baby and somehow   Suzy was pregnant and Ninja instead of Fry was delivering.  But he jumped up and ran off carrying her baby while the three stared open mouthed and no one knew what to say.  She rolled over and cuddled around Fry with her legs still entwined with Leela and fell into a dreamless sleep and woke Leela once to tell her she loved her and she was sorry about the eyes and both immediately fell asleep again.  She felt confused about the babies in the morning and was unsure if that had really happened or not.   She got up and walked to her workplace and told the cook she wanted to cook pancakes and eggs.  The manager came back and looked confused until Suzy told them what was happening and about Fry and Leela.  She left a couple of the eggs and pancakes for them.   They were amazed that this had come out of their kitchen and felt strange that they had pooh-poohed her cooking ability and experience and wished she had left more.  Suzy was almost back to the medical center when they licked their plates and poured their last cups of coffee until opening.
*****
     “That is my roommate’s room.  I’m not married but I should have a right to check in; we are that close.”
     “Which one?”
     “All of them.”
     “The little girl with the big Uzi raised her eyebrows.”
     “Well, I have not yet met two of them, yet.”
     “Suzie and Leela?”
     “Red and purple heads.  I swear, that girl is more of an education than my masters ever was!  May I please go in and see them?”
     “Room is quarantined.  Tell me something only you would know and I shall ask.”
     “Mikaya!  Tell the brunette, Suzy, that the Mikaya is back.”
     “Ms. James, Oh!  I am so sorry ladies!  Please excuse my intrusion—{will you take a threesome}?!?—Ms. James, a woman outside says she you are her roommate.  She says the Mikaya is back.”
     “That is Jill.  Any time she is dressed shabbier than me, please let her in without asking.  Suzy had noted the slight delay in her speak:  As soon as we finish here—please give me ten more heavenly minutes, I’ll ask my beautiful friend here if she would want to ask you to join us.  Let the over-dressed Jill in at the same time; I have to get back to work.” 
     Cyndi was bright red when she returned to Jill.  “Um…
     “Never mind, from your face, I can guess.  What?  Five, ten, fifteen or twenty minutes for them to finish?  Suzy must be getting old.  She used to do it half the time or else she’s going for her fourth.  Do you know how many ‘friends’ I have that only come over to spend private time with that vixen.  Still she is my oldest and best friend.  It is still an honor for me to wait.  You wanna play a little gin to pass the time?  A penny or beer a point?  Suzy says I play amateurishly and do not count the cards and further says I have way too much money to care about losing.  It’s all fun to me: that’s eleven for you and I stand on ten.  Give me a good discard.
*****
     “Gin and game!!!
     Well, damn.  That’s almost two cases you’re up.  Don’t tell me; you count cards as well.  Does anyone besides me, not…?  God, this is more than one half hour.  C’mon, let’s break this marathon up in there.
     “Morality Po—lice.  Everybooty Freeze and not with botox  neither.  Sorry, we wanted to come in and laugh at you guys.  Does anyone care in here that this short cute woman is taking everything off me except my bra and panties.  Come kibbutz Sweetie and help me earn my beers back.”
     “Fry can do that.”
     “A deaf mute?  Are you saying he is better than me despite his coma?”
     “Ok, come on in.  Please close the door if you want to join us.
     “Oh Girlfriend, please believe me when I say I have thought about it.  Especially with you two or with the cute Fry too.  I’m just not packaged that way despite what I want.”
     Leela took her hand, “If you’re like me, you won’t even know you are not package the wrong way; if you want it…she, your roommate, me, or a mysterious witch, shall find you and you will find each other.  I hope your boyfriend is open to the possibility and he’s not in a killjoy coma.”
     “You didn’t know you had lesbo-tendencies; you never desired another woman before?!!?”
     “No.  I saw lots of lovely, beautiful women—there is an undeniable grace and loveliness that the male of the species do not possess—but no.  I never, ever thought or desired of making love to another woman until I met your lovely friend here.  I am so happy that I did.  Alas, Fry was delighted until he hit deep sleep instead of ‘rinse’.  Can I kiss you?  No tongue and gentle?
     “Hmmmmmm???!?!…….okayyyyy.”
     [Imagine one sweet chaste kiss in this spot of about twelve seconds, oops, times up]
     “Hmmm, sweet.  Just like I hope my little sister would be.  Well, at this time, we are neutral.  Check with me in six months and take two aspirins.”
     “Leela…..that was very nice of you.  It’s good….and just a little sad….to know about you and me.  I shall try in six months but aspirins do weird things to my tummy.  Oh, hi.  Sooz!  It’s our favorite nurse!”
     “More company for Mr. Fry, how nice.  Girls, can we turn this into our rec and party room?  It is always so lively and crowded in here?  Or is this lovely young woman visiting you two party animals?”
     “Mrs Cratchitt and head nurse extraordinaire, this is my good friend and roommate who is also Leela’s roommate.  We just determined she will become Leela’s good friend in the near future but not her lover.”
     “Well rats!  In the interest of science, I would have loved to have seen that test!”

[Reply #58 on:]

[No more dream sequences today]


   “Really, you don’t want Leela to check, she’s too tall and you have to angle your head like you’re taking a sinus inhaler.  I, on the other hand am your height.  Allow me…..”
     “Nurse, the other students want to kno…………..!      !     Ok, that’s not what they wanted to know before….. but they most certainly do now.  Sorry, for bother…”
     “Wendy, get your butt back in here and sit down.  First of all, to your obvious disappointment as well as the more prurient upstairs—where you should be right now—I am not a lesbian.  I am firmly entrenched in the other camp and even hold a secret love in my hetero-heart.  Secondly, if you as so much utter one word, I may have to reconsider you graduating as if that is even likely anyway!!!”
     “Oh Mrs. Crachitt!  You mean I haven’t failed yet?  I still have one, maybe two more chances?
     “Keep your big mouth shut and you might have three.  But I swear to god, if you try to blackmail me, you best start looking for a fourteen hour night shift at our crazy Bellevue cousin as bed pan emptier and drool wiper—I don’t think they’ve gotten the word yet; everybody is still chained to their beds.  You understand?  Tell the girls there is plenty of cold beer and pizza.  Do not tell the cooks to warm it or there will be hell to pay but you can scarf all of it down if you save some appetite for prawns and veal—god I pity those little male baby cows—tonight.  No beer but all the Chablis you can stand till you turn .01%.  Get the hell out of here and keep that trap shut!”
     “Dr. Susan, I would have always remembered your little demonstration until I died.  However, with that little priss, that despite the obvious, does show some promise, this memory will surely come with me into eternity.  I wish Christopher could have walked in then instead of Miss popsicle- up-my-butt but we are still young.
      Byeeee!
     Hah!!  I was still so agog I almost forgot what I came here for.  Dr. Susan and Ms. Leela, there is a patient across the hall from you that made a simple request that still bothered me as much as that lovely—no tongue and I sort of wish it had been there—kiss.  Mr. Doe, Senior—that is to say he arrived here with no ID and remains ignorant as to who he is—saw Leela, I assume Miss Leela, you remember the brief encounter on our ‘paseo’, his first time out of bed since his terrible accident, and thought he recognized her from before.  So far, so simple and innocent.  Ok, please consider I do not trust Mr. Doe any more that Leela can throw him down the hall, presumably to the fire extinguisher.  There is something about him that smacks of…, well, evil at least around the edges and behind that mask he has on.  I accused him on his first day, after a drug-induced outburst, that he was an agent provocateur of the Devil.  He remembers that as much as he remembers any of our very, very interesting and scary conversations.  Suffice to say it has included rape, murder and cannibalism.  I’m sure…actually I’m not at all…I hope he is not that bad.  I wish the other Mr. Doe would come down from his clouds but…But you are invited, at the devil’s request, to have dinner: the afore mentioned lamb and prawns and Chablis in his room at room after his meds—just to be on the safe side and make dinner conversation a little more interesting.  Be there or be Square.  And in the interest of rhyme: I DARE you.  RSVP by 15.30hours so I can arrange the crystal and china of Christopher’s private stock.  Despite my dire warnings girls.  It should be safe—at least for NOW and should prove fun and interesting.  I hope to receive an affirmative response.  Oh, Leela?  Could I see you in the hall, please?”
*****
     “Sooz!  Jill!!  Guess what?......You’ll never in a thousand years:  Mrs. Cratchitt just whapped my tonsils with her tongue!!!!    And she snappily spun and walked away smiling—a gait that wasn’t there before!”
     “Awwwwwww!  That’s so sweeeeeeeeet,”  both roommates and friends-for-ever intoned!!  “Watch out Christopher,” Suzy added.
*****
     While the girls gave each other a three-way hug, Fry returned to his old bed room in his 1999 room.  He was surprised how small it was.  And clean…damn it, he hated it when mom cleaned in here; especially dusting which gave the opportunity and necessity of picking up each little thing and inspecting it for juvenile delinquency or sexual activity.  He patted his faded and torn tape-to-the wall of Seattle’s finest and we’re not talking about that suicidal jerk from Nirvana either.  He fingered the dusted 1964 356 cabrolet normal and remembered the thrill of riding with the wind and sun in his hair and and the way even a downpour would slip stream over the wind shield leaving the occupants dry at least until they slowed down—not much of a worry in those days.  And especially the coy and overt looks of cute college girls as they p=flew past their old triumphs TR3’s, 4’s, 5’s and 6’s and AH3000’s and the cute little MGAs.  He looked at his vinyl records.  Man, Sam would kill me with these all a-scattered without their sleeves or jackets gathering UV and dust.  Ooh, an ancient—even then—Holly and the Crickets.  He stroked it lovingly as gently as he ever as he had wanted to caress Leela.  ‘Leela,’…. he sighed.  How much he had wanted her…it seemed his whole life but in this room, the time was put into perspective.  Too much so.  In another one thousand years, ten thousand—it doesn’t matter, does it?—no one will remember.  No one will care.  Yancy never did.  Mr. Panucci never did.  Michelle?  Michelle whom he wanted as much as Leela to love him, to accept him…even just to like him…a little…she cared but for all the wrong things and all the wrong reasons…No she never cared either.  He dismissed his dad but cried when he thought of his Mom.  What would his mother have thought of Leela?  God, maybe they would have liked each other.  He could see Leela sitting downstairs in the kitchen with his mom both with the old-stained crockery white mugs that were new in 1957.  He would walk in from the back yard with Yancy holding a Frisby and each complaining how the other had cheated and Leela would take the coffee cake from her pretty mouth with no lipstick, no adornments at all except for the slightly blue pearls on her neck, and she would say to his mom, ‘See?  That’s exactly what we were talking about.’ and both women would laugh almost spilling their coffees.  Fry and Yancy would look at each other, shrug, grab Cokes from the fridg and exit to the sound of laughter.  The bewildered look turned into a broad smile and sigh.  The school would be agog on prom night with he and Leela on the dance floor, she in her ruby opera dress, and he in a rented, slightly mothballish tux in the spot light at center court and twirling Leela before sweeping her back into his arms.  All the girls without partners exclaimed in a perfect echoing from the folded bleachers one perfect ‘Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’  They all envisioned themselves in that dress with that handsome swain.  He stopped smiling when he looked at the old bedraggled toy tiger snuggled next to his pillow.  How many times had that poor old tiger taken all of his tears he could give before he finally drifted off to uncomfortable and troubling dreams.  His Say-Hay Willy Mays-the-Maestro glove and webbing looked as sadly as the old dog curled up at the end of the bed.  He sat down beside Seymour and scratched his ears and held him—even though he knew he didn’t like it—and hugged him.  Hugged him hard.  Hugged him so hard, maybe, just maybe the dog would understand how sorry it was he had left him waiting all these years.  Maybe he shouldn’t go back? But as soon as he got to ‘back’ he knew he had no choice.  ‘But maybe.  Leela had said maybe there was a way and had even asked if she could come back with him.  A little too late for the prom but man what about my tenth high school reunion?  Those idiots would sit up and take notice then!  The most beautiful woman in the last more than two thousand years.  Since Helen anyway.  Paris???  Settling for second best.  Should have listened to your sister, Casandra!!.  Should have waited for Leela who probably would have been a Trojan woman although he saw her more as UCLA Bruin or a Michigan State Spartan although she would never have demanded Fry bring back his shield; she would be the one with the shield and horse-hair plume.  And what about Susan?  Can you love two women?  I don’t mean the energy and ability—if I try, really try and care—they won’t mind.  For that matter can you even love one woman?  Why didn’t Leela ever requite him?  Was it really not until he had someone else?  Or am I forgetting a short period of time in there?  Does that mean when the competition evaporates like the morning dew, so shall the ladies….?  He threw his fist into the pillow.  It had not been the first time; he did not know it would not be the last—everyone or race of people needs a Wailing Wall.’  He felt so miserable, so down he thought he would try to find Michelle.  Given an hour of concentrated searching and following up on cues from friends along the way, he would surely find her.  As he walked out the door he heard Leela calling for him; it sounded like it coming from the library so he changed his mind and headed toward dewey’s place.  It saved him from a terrible confrontation and Michelle’s nasty temper that might have tipped him over the suicide edge.  He whistled the short part of the refrain from Walking on Sunshine as he strolled—a good sign.
*****
     “Hi.  I’ve only partially stopped by to see how Mr. Fry is faring.  I miss having to stop in this room on my rounds; it makes me think I’ve forgotten something all day.”
Leela laughed.  “ I feel that way all the time but of course I have forgotten something.  Hopefully not something crucial with the navigation of my ship or fuel mix but usually involves tomato soup—I’m not much of a cook.”
      Suzy had  another coughing fit and Leela only rolled her eye.
     “I also want you two, and I wish it was three, to meet another John Doe; I call him Jr.  And…ta, taaa: Here he is.  He is, another drum roll: a CIA agent on the hunt for someone he believes is your stalker and possible and even probable assassin.”
     “Hi, ladies.  I don’t want to worry you.  I hope my presence may evenoffer some small comfort.  You are obviously aware that someone is keenly interested in you.  I would very like to say I am not sure why but it isn’t even anyway near that close.  I don’t have the foggiest why he has tried to kill you at least once and possibly on other occasions.”
     Susan said, “We were only sure of the one time.  I believe the pressure we put on him by spotting him as well as official enquiries have scared him off.  By putting up better security and    a heightened presence, I think he has chosen easier pickings and has gone elsewhere.”
     “Hmmm.  I hope that is the case.  I’m afraid it is not.  Spider Savitch , nee Steve, is a high value contract killer usually employed by my agency.  He was trained by the same although Steve and I should Stevie, because his violence began at a very early age.   I wish somehow did not get my de facto soiled hands in that inclusion and merely ‘harnessed’ and used it.  Stevie has made well over one hundred hits.  Many of his victims were extremely well-guarded by professionals that put my expertise, and everyone I know, to shame.  If he can successfully get by these men and women, an aware victim, the local constabulary and a lone agent from the CIA will only slow him down a little.  The target—and I speak statistically here—is dead.  He has made several attempts before and after the incident you refer to.  The latest was when he camped out on top of your elevator car’s roof and obviously was planning on making a truly surprising entrance when you were in there, coming or going.  You fortunately thwarted him by moving into Mr. Fry’s room the very day he was waiting for you with noose.  There are a couple of possible scenarios which would account for his absence from the chase:  One, is that whoever put the contract on you pulled it.  They would of course lose the majority of, if not the entire amount of the promised fee upon completion.  But they may have gotten new information that made them reassess you being a threat.  This threat is usually to entire countries or groups of countries much like the ancient treaty organizations of old Earth.  But if it is an individual, it is an important and rich one because Savitch’s retainer fees start in excess of five million gold.  The actual killing might be five to ten times that usually with guaranteed or expedited immunity and no questions asked and no limit on collateral damage.  The good news is that we’ve never had a report that he destroyed an entire city to get at one target but it would not possible nor ruled out as a possibility.  So number one is that an entire country and states do not usually fall into that considering the budget process and their inability to shield federal prosecution. Or one A: a very rich important man.  So have p.o.ed either recently?” 
     Leela spoke up.  “I don’t think he knew who I was originaly.  He came to my apartment thinking it was another one of Susan’s.  He had seen me in pictures on Fry’s wall.  I think someone from PE told them I was his girlfriend and Spider was only aware of one girl friend.  I’m sure he would have killed me but only to either get to Fry or Suzy.”
     “You say you spoke to him.  How did he act?  Was he smooth?  His story plausible and seamless?  Did he look healthy and sound healthy; any coughs or twitches or wear glasses that might not have been a disguise.  Any observations.”
     “I am pretty skeptical but he had me convinced I was covered from his previous breakin and that he represented an insurance agency.  It was well researched.  It used a real company the rental complex does have policies although not for theft or damage from a break in; he knew my name and Fry’s name and yes, I was positive I was dealing with a helpful person.  He seemed very fit.  He had to have run down a cluttered 100m hall in less than ten seconds and would have had to reacted immediately to be able to do that.  I did notice he changed from friendly and good looking to ugly, scary and very menacing in m-seconds.”
     “When he asked for Suzy and told him he did not live there he knew my face already.  He recognized me from Fry’s pictures on his bedroom wall.  He had already rifled the place once like he was looking for something.  But while there he saw his quarry on the wall, Susan, Fry or Fry and Susan.  I was in the old ones with Fry but apparently that was not a threat.  Although if he had gained entry maybe I would have found out otherwise.  Is he dangerous Mr. Burkhart to people he runs across or only those that get in his way or is contracted?”
     “We don’t know how many diagnoses are in effect.  There is certainly a dual diagnosis of schizophrenia and bipolar.  We are also not sure about drugs and/or alcohol.  He was making some progress but some hotshot genius pulled him out to be a killer and he was successful—for the most part—beyond our wildest dreams.  The genius had originally figured four to ten hits and then returning him to treatment.  Like I said, he’s had over one hundred.  The original psychiatrist, who later became a military psychiatrist by Spider not long ago when we started to know something was wrong.  They found her strangled, raped and missing an arm and some body parts. 
     “Body parts?”  “Specifically, what body parts?”
     “Uh, that is part of an ongoing investigation.”
     “Fudge, that.  This was months ago?  You know who did it; you’re going to kill him when you find him, and while there may be many looking for this individual, there are as sure as hell, no one looking for this psychiatrist’s killer.”
     “Hmmm.  How’s your gag reflex?  She is missing, besides her arm, her livers and kidneys, brain, breasts and er, her mons.  I guess that should be mons pubis.  We had reports of similar victims, almost entirely prostitutes, but obviously not exclusively, but did not realize it was our boy.  The short answer is yes he is very dangerous to anybody he runs across.  He can be charming as hell, nice, kind, sweet and it is shut off in m-seconds and you saw both sides at your apartment door.  There may be a side issue of cannibalism but that is just one more why he kills.  I’m sure the only ones he has a known reason and logic to kill are the contracts everyone else is chance.  Your odds of becoming a dead body with him at your door I would guess at fifty-fifty:  better than Vegas but not much to win and a lot to lose.  The odds of me finding him are 80-20 but he knows I’m behind him so I’m running considerably less than you at your apartment.  But I can say for sure that the odds of one of us dying in the next week are four to one.  When do you think he broke into Fry’s apartment?”
     “Three days ago.”
     “Ok, I know where it is.  When I finish up here, I’ll take a look.  There is nothing there but I would be remiss if I missed something.  Do you have a key?”
     “No but Fry does.  Or at least his pants do.  I’ll go over with you.”
     He smiled, “You don’t trust me in your boyfriend’s apartment?”
     “Well, it’s more his roommate.”
     “I can be sweet too and if not, I can handle most roommates.”
     “Yeah?  Even when they’re constructed to bend T40 steel girders into pretzels if that’s what’s on the blueprint.”
     “You’re kidding.  Your boyfriend is a roommate with a MR704BU-2.2—one of Mom’s Bending Units.  They cost about 70trilliongold and TS4 full track and rocket can’t stop them.  A roommate?”
     “They’re best buds.”
     “No crap.  You have an interesting cadre of associates and friends, Ms. Turanga.  Anybody ever get hurt p.o.ing the BU2.2”
     “We prefer to call him Bender.  No, but he does have an attitude and authority figure problems.  You should let me do the talking if we run into him; he only mildly hates me.  What we need is Fry.  Maybe you can wake him up for us.”
     “Right now, I envy him.  I wish I was the one in a coma.  Better off leaving him where he is.”
     “Listen, if I’m going to go with you, we need to take off now.  I have to get back to eat with our neighbor, another Doe, and Cratchitt tonight.”
     “Yeah, what are you having, mystery meat, mushy peas, watery lumpy mashed potates and brown saltless gravy water with day old bread and genuine real oleo.”
     “You must be on Cratchitt’s crap list.  We, and I thought everybody, were having lamb and prawns marinated in wine and tarragon and grilled, with baked potatoes and sour cream and chives, French baguettes, and homemade salted butter, broccoli in lemon butter sauce and home made lemon ice cream.  You better check your menu Mr. Doe, Jr.” 
     “Ok, we both better hurry.  Where’s your scooter?” 
    “Four blocks over…”
    “That’s sounds good.”
    “And up on twelth.”
    “Cripes, that getting close to a mile and in this heat it might as well be ten.  Let’s take my mini.”
    “Which is where?”
    “Out at the front entrance.”
     “That’s all no parking out there.”
     “Federal CIA vehicle.  And if they try to tow it…chuckle…there’s a bomb in there.”
     “Leela’s jaw dropped.  Burkhart!   Oh, crap, you had me going there for a moment.  You’re as good as Suzy in keeping a straight…”  His eyes and her solo one were about one to two inches apart.  She noticed he needed a shave.  She had a fairly long purple hair at the edge of her cheek he wanted to pluck.  It would been a romantic moment but her eye turned mean and he though, ‘uh-oh’.  She tried to bring her fist up but he blocked it but as the foot came up he leaned forward, let if go by, and snagged it on the way back.  He brought it down and hooked it with his leg.  She was fuming.  ‘
That was so stupid.  I believed you and then I thought…No, not even an idiot would do that.  Well what do you know?  How many sick and dying patients did you pop off, idiot?” 
     “There is a little bomb in my mini.  It’s a smoke bomb.  Someone moves it without unlocking the keyset, it goes off…it – just – smokes.  Did that sound like a little smoke bomb in my mini?  Cause if it is, I better hurry up and pay it off.  What did you really think?  I was an idiot??  That’s rich.  You’d have to be an idiot to believe that story.  What a straight man, er. Woman!!”  He looked at her again and narrowed the distance. “For that matter:  What a woman!”  And he kissed her.  That was when he could not block her fist.  She got in two more one to his nose and another to his right eye.
     Neither noticed that Susy and Crachitt were on the sidewalk watching them as people slowly evacuated.  Cratchitt whispered, “Damn, I got to check on my orderlies moving my patients but you got to takes notes and let me know how this turns out.”
    Suzy, still open mouthed, just nodded as Cratchett ran over to a group with a big red seven in the middle.  She stroked the hair of several elderly men and women, laughed at something Doe, Senior said and pointed out to security where Suzy and Leela were.  Two stayed with the motionless Fry while the third came running over to Suzy. 
     Is he attacking her?  Is this the assassin?  He had his radio in his hand with his finger on the panic button.”
    “I’m not…ooh!.  She grimaced as her knee came up in Burkhart’s groin who dipped surprisingly unhurt and caught her around the waist.  “…sure who is beating whom up here but it’s our protector, not our assassin.”  She took the radio from him, turned it off and handed it back.
     Security looked carefully again as the beautiful purple haired woman tried to bite Burkhart’s ear off and said, “Right.  I think I can tell that.”
    Burkhart kneeled and spun Leela briefly toward him and whipped her down over his knee.  He pulled her stretch slax down exposing her thronged bottom.
     Suzy shrieked with laughter and Security Guy brought up his Nikon “S288000 and held down the shutter at 88 shots/sec..  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye while she tried to follow the action.  People were disobeying the rapidly gathering Security’s orders to clear of the area within one hundred yards of the hospital but were streaming into the little glen already at ten deep with a lot of jumping by short women and men.  Suzy said, “I want a full set of that film and I’ll go out with you Friday night but you only get to first base.  Deal?”
     “Deal.  Make it second base and I’ll throw in hand-enlarged 8x11 color stills of the whole sequence.  Should be about a thousand before the file fills up.”
     “Second base.  Okey dokey; if you make it every fifth shot of all the memories you fill fully knowing it would be all of anything he could get his hands on.  Meet me at Fry’s room and you better not mention this or the film to Leela.  One or both of us could get killed.  And I want to save that for a surprise.  Oh I want to see that new Kurohaha full-experience Death by Dogs feature and pizza and beer afterwards…but only second…scouts honor?  I would hate to break your arm.”
     The little cute guy was jumping up and down.  “Oh, Kurohaha is so cool and I can’t believe you want to see Dogs; god, I am so in love.  Pizza, beer and a you, a beautiful woman.  Can I set up my Nikon to take some pix taken just so my buds will have to believe it.?
     Tell you what, since you are so nice and really a gentleman and all or better be, by gods, you can have all your shots but please don’t shoot a whole file, and then we’ll stop on the way home at the tavern where they hang out and you can introduce me and if you want, I’ll cream one or two of them when they assuredly will make some ugly and sexually impossible suggestion and then I’ll let you kiss me and feel me up and show a little—damn little—breast and then you can take me home—a winner!  You can make up the rest of the story from there for the next day ..., winner and I’ll even send you a love letter for show & tell.  If I meet you in the street and you give me some signal, I’ll even treat you nice.  But don’t you dare ever call me again unless I do so first or give my name out—Suzy only.  You understand?  This is an acting role and and you need to play your part too; it does NOT extend into my personal life or reality unless I decide.”
     He sighed and smiled and was just barely capable of nodding; he had already died and gone to heaven.  The entire conversation had been made while looking through the Nikon view finder and her little Zeiss birdwatching binoculars. 
     Susan turned and caught the final pathetic finish.  The little security dude popped in a third file in and shot away.
    Burkhart had finally secured her flailing hands and fists and reasonably shut down both legs in what looked like a very advanced yoga position.  With the one remaining arm and hand, he spanked the screaming purple haired Cyclops as hard as he could…up to twenty two and added one to grow on! (smack!)  He pulled up her slacks reasonably well and called the little security guy over.  “Would you please cuff her for her own protection.”
     “Oh no you don’t…you caught her…you clean her.  Here, be my guest.” and he handed a plastic set of riot restraints.
     “Ok, be that way—pansy!!  It’s easy, even with a feisty one, watch!”  He got her left wrist in reasonably well and ratcheted up the slack till tight.
     That’s when it fell apart—fast.  It was like that summer day when he tried to hold onto a natrix sipedon somewhere in the middle.  She broke his nose, fractured his left ulna, extended and damaged three left metacarpal, stomped on his left instep, and blackened each of the five toe  nails of the left foot so that they fell off in a week; caused an over-extension of his left knee and blackened both eyes.  She unzipped him, reached in and pulled out his magnesium-soft plastic cup over his genitals, threw it over her shoulder and brought her boot down.  ‘Everything but the scent gland secretions.’ he might have thought.  She would have done that as well if they were not surrounded by hundreds of people; flashes still going off.  She kissed him fully and quite a while on the lips and said, “I hope your kiss was worth it; mine was!”  He smiled despite the pain that was wracking his body, winked at her and passed out.  She smiled a huge smile, pumped her fist, turned and ran into Suzy and turned a deep, deep red.
     “Oh that was fun!  Will you and Mr. Doe do that for my mommy and daddy when they visit next week?”
     Leela’s face to turned to normal and whispered something in Sooz’s ear who fell down onto the grass kicking and laughing.  Leela made her way over to the number ‘7’.

[Reply #59 on:]

[fourth of july break.  Fry, Leela and I are taking a break from the other crazies and are going flyfishing and set off a few fire crackers along a trib of the columbia.  May your fourth be fun]

[Reply #60 on:]

Thank god.

[Reply #61 on:]

I've read the whole thing

[Reply #62 on:]

Thank god.

Hah!  You are on a roll today, Mr. Freak; I have a date in a few minutes with a few nice rainbow and steelheads.  Enjoy your Fourth.

[Reply #63 on:]

I've read the whole thing

That is either good or bad depending on your point of view (see above) but I hope some of it has  been fun.  Enjoy your Fourth of July.

[Reply #64 on:]

Thank god.

Hah!  You are on a roll today, Mr. Freak; I have a date in a few minutes with a few nice rainbow and steelheads.  Enjoy your Fourth.

Freako's an Aussie.  The Fourth of July means nothing to him and considering the time difference and placement of the International Date Line, he's now celebrating July 5.

I'm not up for the task, but consider my opinion that having a beta-tester may take some of the rough edges off of your story and possibly get the story better reviews.

[Reply #65 on:]

Freako's an Aussie.  The Fourth of July means nothing to him and considering the time difference and placement of the International Date Line, he's now celebrating July 5.

I'm not up for the task, but consider my opinion that having a beta-tester may take some of the rough edges off of your story and possibly get the story better reviews.
[/quote]  

     Thank you for that information.  Truly a man of the future; no wonder he is so talented in regard to Futurama.
     I still have not been able to press gang a beta reader; my wife, friends, kinder were burned out long ago.  I agree with its usefullness and need

[Reply #66 on:]

sorry for messing up spocks brain's quote in my replay:  one more editorial error
 

[Reply #67 on:]

     There was an all-clear and ER staff rolled Burkhart onto a gurney and rolled him in unconscious.  Cratchitt ran up to them and told them, “He’s one of mine.  Please clean him up and take x-rays and then wheel him up to his room on Seven; I shall amend his admission records.”  She had no idea he would have absolutely refused any pain relievers had he been conscious.  A young ER nurse—one of Ratchitt’s graduates from a year ago--routinely injected him a before wheeling him down for x-rays.
     Dinner was late but superb.  The head cook, a young black man who had been in Suzy’s class at Le Cordon Bleu had refused to evacuate and brought the started dinner preparations under control and nothing was overheated, burnt, or overcooked.  The lamb was rare and the searing on the prawns with its carmalized sugars and burnt tarragon were divine.  Every potato came out fluffy white with crisp skins and the broccoli was perfectly undercooked.  He received praises, kudos and bravos for days after.  Leela had seconds on everything as did everyone else with the exception of Suzy.  She did not touch her plate.  No one noticed it was Nurse Cratchitt who reenacted the fight instead of Suzy who had had ringside seats and seen from afar.  Cratchitt gave a stellar reenactment and threw punches and kicks-cum inspired sounds of their impact that led up the finales—the removal of the cup and subsequent stomp followed by the second kiss complete with two smiles and a wink.  The little room erupted with almost unanimous applause.  Leela watched Susan out of the corner of her eye just sitting there—not smiling; not focusing on anything.  Leela looked happy.  She engaged in conversations more than she usually did at parties and she laughed a lot and smiled and exhibited much bonhomie but inside she was very worried and concerned and couldn’t wait to get to Susan alone.
     Mr. Doe, Senior enjoyed himself.  He especially enjoyed meeting and conversing with Leela who had convinced him she had met him when she moonlighted at the Purple Brassiere pull-dancing for a two week stint to help pay her college tuition and that he had been a frequent and generous patron.  He smiled and tried to put a bill up her non-fishnetted thigh and laughed a long time and told some funny stories that had to have come from his memory.  Leela only gently discouraged his thigh massages and clumsy advances.  Doe also looked especially quizzically at Susan James Anderson and listened intently to Leela as she expounded on the wonders of her wonder woman.  Suzy winced internally at every other word and rushed off quickly to the bathroom.  Leela watched her run and close the door.  She turned to the nurse, “How is Bu…damn!?  How is Doe Junior?” she asked.  “He’s not really badly hurt, is he?  I didn’t mean to hit him that hard…or that much.”
     “Oh, he’ll be fine in a few days.  It’s so seldom anymore we have bones that do not knit properly.  Just a day or two and the casts can come off and he’ll be fine except for his pride.  I’m afraid we’ve done damn little for that in medicine.”
     “I suspect his ego, being the size it is, will absorb the incident nicely and eventually reconstruct events more satisfactorily,” Leela laughed.  Susan came up to her as Mrs. Cratchitt started to laugh and Leela took Suzy’s arm, “Let’s go back.”  Her girl friend nodded.
     “Nurse Cratchitt said it was also time she and Dr. Brown also should go.  They followed the two women out the door.   Christopher asked Leela a question in the hall and Leela turned momentarily to answer.  In that instance, Susan took off like a flash and no one saw her leave.  She was not seen that night or the following morning.  Leela lay naked next to Fry all night with her eye wide open and occasionally grinding her perfect teeth and clacking them in syncopation with Fry’s monitor’s beeps, her fingers beat out another beat on the bed.
.    Around 04.30hours she turned to the unconscious Fry, asked him to come back to her and then told him all about Suzy and why she was worried about her.  She fell asleep at 04.47 and awoke with the arrival of medications for Fry’s IV.  She got a cup of coffee at the nurses’ station and left a detailed message for Nurse Cratchitt, who was in the classroom with her slowly improving students, and left to search for Sooz.  For the first and only time in her life, she wished they were sisters; a bigger sister might know well the haunts of her sibling that would be never known by a friend or lover.
     John Doe, Senior, after finishing breakfast, walked across the hall where he was stopped by security.  He was not allowed to visit Fry but the women were gone he was told and no they were not informed of their whereabouts.  A student nurse ran up and escorted him back to his bed; he was oddly troubled with the news.
*****
     The lance corporal knocked quietly and was admitted to Major Mary Kay Coats’ office.  Major Coats was a tall, elegant career office with an impressive amount of decorations and ribbons guilding the lily of her left breast; she would make lieutenant colonel within the month.  Her long brown hair was carefully pulled up in the back with French braids.  He looked at them out of the corner of his eye and wondered what they were called in Le Etat d’ France.  The lance was embarrassed to look at his superior until so ordered directly.  He thought she was beautiful and would have been afraid to look at her if she were a private first class.
     “What the fudge, is this some Muslim state of which I am not aware of?  “Should I be veiled or something?  Look at me when you talk to me, damn it!”
     “Ma’am!!!!   Yes ma’am!”
     “Ok, that’s better.  But hear me lance corporal, if I detect any drooling on your baby face, you will have a severe case of dishpan hands after sixty days.  Now what is so friggin’ important that it has to come to my attention?”
     “Ma’am.  My Sergeant ordered me to report immediately to you, Ma’am.”
     “Okaaaay.  Did the good Sergeant give you any instructions on what you were to report to me about?
     “Ma’am!  At 05.45hours a young woman appeared at our gate; a little younger than you, ma’am.”
     “Hmm-hmmm.”  This grunt was nothing to her but she still grimaced inside. 
     “I politely told her that the gate did not open to general traffic until 06.00hours.  She informed me, she was naked, Ma’am, and I, er..I had difficulty looking at her directly, not to mention she was also beautiful , er…
     “Oh good grief!  Go on! 
     “…but ma’am, I’ve never seen you naked so it’s a hard one to compare objectively.  I mean I might…”
     “Lance Corporal!  She felt herself redden which p.o.ed her to no end.  Leave off the personal observations unless they directly pertain as to why this woman showed up at our gate, what she wants, and how that directly concerns me.  If I believe you are sexually harassing me, I’ll have gelded and in stocks if I can get away with either…so get on with it but keep that in mind, soldier!”
     “Ma’am!  Yes. ma’am.  No disrespect intended.  I just want you to know what I, er.., we, were up against and to understand the background.  …so her being all that may be why I did not catch everything she said.  But she informed me…
     .  “Don’t you mean ‘us’, or were you alone with this naked-beautiful woman?”
     “No, Ma’am!  That is not permitted under general orders 3001-2887.  If I were alone, I would have stayed in the guard house and called for assistance.”
     “No doubt observing very carefully this suspect person.  I’m sure you would have had plenty of volunteers in very short order.  I mean, where in the fudge was the Sergeant?”
     “He was at his station observing.  I guess he assumed it was a normal situation; maybe he gets more naked people showing up than I’m use to.”
     “I am sure that’s it; either that or he was as scared as you were.”
     “Sarge?  No, Major.  He’s never scared.  He’s had lots of women.  Told me about all of them.”
     “I’ll bet.  Please continue.”
      “Well, Ma’am, she showed me an officer’s CA130 automatic.  Said she had used it a lot on Parthos and that if she did not get some information immediately from General McChrystal, she was going to take her head off with it.  It was off safety, Ma’am, and it appeared to be fully charged.  It looked to me, like the way she handled it, she knew what it was about, Ma’am.  Oh, and one more thing, Ma’am.  She had that ‘look’ that officers have that just demand to be saluted.  Do you know what I mean Major?”
     Major Coats slowly nodded, afraid she might miss something coming.
     “Well, this woman, Susan she said her name was.  Gave no surname or rank.  Anyway, she has this look and both Sarge and I clicked our heels together when she drove up.  She returned it casual like but serious.  If you know what I mean.”
     Major Coats did not.  Nor did she know the answer to what she knew was coming.
     So Sarge says, “Timmy, get your butt up to the Generals XO double time and no sight seeing or bar hopping and inform the Major of the situation.  And ask the Major what the fudge do we do with Susie Cream Cheese.”
     “Cream cheese?  Is that sexual innuendo, because…”
     “Ma’am it wasn’t meant as disrespect.  Comes from old Frankie Zappa—he was so far ahead of his time, his junk still feels new, if you know what I mean.
     She closed her eyes, rubbed her temples and whispered, dismissed, and did not bother to see if he still looked at her or whether he saluted or even if he drooled.  She took a long drink of cold coffee with her eyes still closed and reached for the phone.  ‘When you don’t know, sure as hell, you pass it up!  And you know?  This is a hell of a lot better than the soaps I missed all last week when my tricorder failed to pick up the signal during maneuvers.’ 
     “Security.  Duty office Corporal Simowitz.”
     “Corporal, get me Colonel Swick.”  “That is not what I told you, damn it!”  “Well, wake the somabitch up.  It’s 06.10 for gods’ sakes!”  “Well grab him by the nads and whisper it his ear.  You’ll have both his heart and mind then.”  “Get-him-now-or-report-to-General-Mc-Crys-tal’s-off-ice-and-re-port-why-you-are-un-able-to-fill-this-mofu-simple-re-quest-got-it?  Ok, then.  Have a nice morning!”  Anytime anyone having a worse time than she was having; well, things would start to look up.
*****
     The phone ring was set to silence and the unheard message chip cheerfully informed the caller, “Hey!  Bite my shiny metal ass!  What kinda jerk don’t know All My Circuits are on now.  If it is important.  Call back at 0930hr but it better be damn important!”  After three answers of the same metallic obvious robotic voice, the receiver was slammed down in its cradle.
*****
     ‘Calculon, you know I love you.  But your twin brother tells me the baby is his.  He looks so sincere, love. Your brother would not lie to the love of his brother, would he?  And the baby is starting to look like your cousin Graytit.  What am I to do, Calculon?”  The shapely robot burst into tears and the screen went into a visual of thousand of hungry Ethiopians.  ‘Ah man, if they’d quit messin’ wid eritraya, they’d be plenty to eat.  Let ‘em eat cake’.  He got up and brought out a small mini keg which he attached to his IV and adjusted the drip. 
     The screen flashed back to Calculon’s large golden face.  And the dulcet tones started to emerge and the screen went blank.  A grainy picture of an older guy in a hospital bed appeared in stead of the robot.
     “Wha the fudge, mofu?”   
     Bender, my name is not important.  I am an agent with the CIA and your help is essential to the country, your state, your city…”
     “Ah, who gives a rip?  It was a re-run anyway.”  He was just about to flick it off when no name continued.
     “…and your best friend and roommate, Philip J Fry!”
     “Fry, Whatdaya need, buddy?  Anything, name it!”
     “Thank you Bender, Fry needs some information.”
     “And who are you Jerkface?  Like I care.”  And he again  grabbed the control to cut power.
     “Since you don’t know or care about me, maybe Miss Leela can help you decide?”
     “What??  Is this a bad dream or a stinkin’ rabbit hole?  Gotta fill those stinkin rabbit holes first thing tomorrer!”
     Leela popped on the screen.  “No Bender, this is Real.  You gotta help Fry, Bender!”
     “Yeah, yeah.  Whadya want me to do?”
     “Please try to answer these questions Bender.  Do you remember anyone you didn’t see before hanging around your apartment or building or Fry a week before the break in to a week afterwards?”
     “Hell no, I already told that CSA guy or whatever everything I knew about that about a zillion times.  Not goin there agin, even for Fry.”
     “Ok Bender, see anybody around in the last couple of days?”
     “Hell, no…..Wait, there was one strange dude.  Found him here inside my apartment.  Told me he had a message from Fry to me.  Well naturally, as my love for Fry dictated to my central processing unit, I started to perspire, and redden, and jump up and down and yell, ‘Hurrah and all…but then he pulls out a blaster about the size of an old Buick Roadmaster and tried to blow my circuits outamy head.  He shut em down all right.  My visual sensing unit matched his snaky little grin of his with my central processing unit and now I play that along with the sequence of me dropping the jerk off the top of the building whenever I feel a little rusty or blue.  Anyhoo, I grab the osb by the giblets and drag him up the stairs and shake him down just a little—for Fry, you understand—and all of a sudden he starts being a big dude and bad mouthin me and I’m like ‘who needs this’ sos I drop the somabitch off the building.”
     They both averred, “He’s dead then!”
     Bender said, “Nah:  Best laid plans of robots and hummingbirds!  Dude only falls ten-twenty some feet and get this, he lands on a balloon—a balloon in a p’rade for gob’s sake.  Anyways he gets off not far from this-here building.  I can’t tell real good, got some fuzziness in one of my optical unit lenses here but it looks like he sees this chick across this busy street and he goes running after her and gets creamed by about twenty or thirty of those fast little purple craps kids ride these days and he goes flyin’ in front of a Mac Mover—a big one—flyin’ real low and belts him outa park: home run.  You shoulda seed it.  Funnier than a rubber crutch at Jerry’s Camp.  Too bad you missed it.  Gonna be a classic!”
     Both Leela and the CIA man sitting close together looked at each other and sighed, “Yeah!  Too bad..Too sad  Not glad!”
     “Well there’s no reason to get maudlin over the deal.  There are still the re-runs.  How much you think a re-play is worth anyway?”
     “Bender!!!!  For cripe’s sake.  This is for Fry, you know??!  You planning on making twenty pieces of silver out of this, huh?  Well answer me!”
     “Geeze, twenty pieces of silver.  Hell, I thought it would be worth a lot more than that.  You know I got to fire up the old processor and then there is stacker and the pre-amp not to mention re-formatting it for HTCP.  Man!  It’s a costly, complicated, long process!”
     “Bend-er-I-swear-to goddd…?
     “Leela, please.  Let me appeal to his better nature.”
     There were simultaneous yells of ‘HAH!!!!’ almost everyone.
     “Bender when I was unofficially checking for evidence after your first break in.  You with me buddy?”
     “Hmmmph” 
     “Well, I noticed a ----------------secret… door in what I believe is your sleeping quarters.”
     “UHHH, oh, crap…here it comes!”
     “Well, to be on the safe side, I mean, it could be the hidey hole for our assassin, right?
     “Yeah!  I forgot to tell you that before.  That is exactly…”
     “So imagine my surprise when I found two kilos worth of simian phylxyl Chrystals in there.  Hmmm, street market of say…..450,000gold.
     “Bull crap.  That stuff is pure,  probably be way closer to two mil…….Hmmm!”
     “Bender that stuff is crap.  First of all it, doesn’t work.  Second, it’s very, very dangerous—short-term and much worse long-term--to anyone stupid enough to inject it.  But lastly, because I know this is just for your er…scientific… research and not for sale or anything, maybe we can make a deal.”
     “Maybe.  But I’m still gonna need at least five bucks for a new lock on that door—once that even a ------------------------------------------------dunce like you can’t pick so easily plus a little gratuity.”
    “ Give you 4.16 by check if you transfer all the files to me here within five minutes, deal?......  Okay?”
     “Man, that’s gotta be worth 5.00 lousy bucks.  You know what locks run these days?  Plus a little extra, for good-will and faith.”
     “I’ll trade you that valuable information for the phone number sequence of the DEA.”
     “4.16:  Deal!  File is in transit!  And Bozo, I got a whole case of them newer unpickable security locks at the five finger discount store this morning.  So bite my shiny metal ass!”
     “Hey kissy face!  These pictures!  I know this guy!  He’s the one—same name as you: Doe--we ate with last night!!!!”
*****
     “Major, You feeling any better, this morning?”
     “Hey Nina.  You know, we’ve been in this office for four years now?  I’m a thinking—I know, it’s a stretch for a major, but after all that time and we’ve been friendly if not friends, right?.  So maybe it’s time you call me Mary Kay at least when there is no lurking superior officers who know that national security depends on that protocol.  Please call me Mary Kay or MK anytime the mood strikes and maybe we can go out for a beer tonight and I’ll share my leftover lasagna with you.  It’s still pretty good, I used lots of mozzarella and ricotta and my mom’s spaghetti sauce recipe that I thickened and added mushrooms and kalamatas and capers.  Oh, crap…I’m vegetarian and your loss of meat is like an issue, right?”
     “Mary Kay, I’m vegetarian too.  Been one ever since highschool.  I should say though my vegan friends say vegetarian-lite ‘cause I include milk and especially cheese.  You like cheese too; I could never, ever give it up, even for Lent and Ramadan.”
     “Both?”
     “Well, I’m RC and Bob is Muslim so we seem to give a lot up in the year when you consider.  Anyway, I also include huevos, por claro and fish.  I mean fish isn’t really meat, is it?  I mean it’s got no legs.  And if chocolate had cholesterol and once had a heartbeat, I’d be likely to sneak out at 3 in the morning and open my cocoa and jalapena jerky stash.  So I’m not bad but I bet you’re better.”
     “Nina, for gods’ sakes.  I stopped at Macadonaladas for a big mac yesterday and had no regrets other than it was just one.  But hell, I try.  Ooh, here comes Captain Fishpickle, I think he’s cute.  I’m going to pull rank one of these days.  Captain, good of you to come so fast.  What do you have for me.”
     “Major, I believe her to be sane as I am which I guess means she might by certifiable.  She’s been lied to for a long time ma’am and…”
     “Careful, Captain.  You are edging very quickly and obviously into classified…”
     “Damn it Major.  We are both cleared.  If we can’t talk about it, who can?  Or are you going to wait for McChrystal to make up your mind for you?”
     “I meant Captain, this office is not cleared and Nina was just here seconds ago.”
     “Ok, let’s go for a drive.  Can a real life major who makes more than a lowly captain, buy a drink for said captain?”
     “Certainly can if we take your sports car so I can feel like a teenybopper again and yes, I would be happy to buy you a drink and maybe dinner too?  We’ll negotiate that.  Let me grab a scarf so my hat does not take a flight out of dodge.”
     “Ooh, Grace Kelly on the Riviera!”
     “I wish, especially about the upcoming princess role to soon follow.  But she was a blonde.”
*****

[Reply #68 on:]

You do know of the existence of the "Edit" button, correct? Instead of making a second post saying the former has an error, perhaps you could, you know, get rid of the error?

[Reply #69 on:]

Wow, this is still going?

[Reply #70 on:]

Wow, this is still going?

Yes. Mindblowing.

[Reply #71 on:]

Okay, I'm going to give this a go and do a brutally honest concrit.

Boo, you have some writing talent, and some parts do work. Like Bender's dialogue, some of that was good.

But Mr Spock is correct - it doesn't feel like the characters from Futurama, and is very disjointed. No, make that extremely. Many parts are long and rambling. People are speaking for twenty+ lines at a time. Half of what you've written isn't necessary.

I've read all of the story and I'm not even sure WTF is happening. Confusing your readers is never a good sign.

I suggest finding an writer you like - a story writer - and compare your work to theirs. Note the differences, see what they do better and learn from it.

[Reply #72 on:]

Wow, this is still going?

Yes. Mindblowing.

Yes it is.  See what happens when the U.S. is not a signatory to the Banning Landmine Initiative as well as generally ignoring the Geneva Convention?  It gets brutal out there in an unregulated world.

You do know of the existence of the "Edit" button, correct? Instead of making a second post saying the former has an error, perhaps you could, you know, get rid of the error?

Yes, I do try to do that when I am aware of it but thank you for pointing that out.  In this particular case, which I did not bother to try to explain, the error was in my manipulating the quote so that only the pertinant portion was displayed.  While I normally have not experienced a problem with that, this time was an exception.  It would have been very nice to be able to withdraw it and start over.  Mea culpa but not for not trying.

Okay, I'm going to give this a go and do a brutally honest concrit.      Boo, you have some writing talent, and some parts do work. Like Bender's dialogue, some of that was good.
     But Mr Spock is correct - it doesn't feel like the characters from Futurama, and is very disjointed. No, make that extremely. Many parts are long and rambling. People are speaking for twenty+ lines at a time. Half of what you've written isn't necessary.       I've read all of the story and I'm not even sure WTF is happening. Confusing your readers is never a good sign.      I suggest finding an writer you like - a story writer - and compare your work to theirs. Note the differences, see what they do better and learn from it.

Brutal is good if it is honest and informed and I thank you for the valuable critique.  It is all the more meaningful in that some of the stories you've authored, I have enjoyed thoroughly, never mind the artwork.  As a  favorite Aussie writer of mine, I guess  you rank somewhere behind (in no particular order)  Keneally, Shute, Carey, White, Malouf and West and ahead of McCullough.  If your opinion is a consensus, and it is rapidly appearing as such, I should just stop and pull the plug--I have the charcters' living wills on file.  Not many supporters have shown up in feedback so maybe the only one is another author, I like, in Madhouse; I could just download there.  I hate to put this up to a poll since this may have aspects of the public stocks and very ripe tomatoes.  But unless I hear back from some other opinions withthin the next week, I shall either just discontinue or put up this scary poll.  Thank you again.

[Reply #73 on:]

[Now, with considerable trepidation, is today's installment:]

   “…but history and philosophy and engineering aside, I love it ‘cause it still gets me looks from cute girls and it’s fast and it’s fun and just a little sexy.  You know, I’ve tracked down images of my ancient ancestors actually driving the land-wheeled version.  I couldn’t believe it when I first saw them, they looked somewhat strange but the Porsche 356 was so primitive; I was embarrassed.”  “That was then, I’ve put it into perspective since and now I think it’s pretty cool.  I mean I could have been a real hotshot in the stupid ages….maybe……maybe not, I wouldn’t be able to fly or…”
     “Do you like it when girls your own age smile at you when zip by them or …?”
     “Absolutely.  But, you know, kids are high maintenance and they never understand my jokes or cultural and historical references.  After I raised mine, I said, ‘no more’.  Who needs a girl that acted like your daughter did ten years ago in your bed?  Speaking of the stupid ages.  It’s a miracle my daughter survived my contemplation of murder heinous against her person and there were plenty of opportunities.   I mean it would not be right to think about your lover, let alone your wife, that way.”
     “Would you like it if I smiled at you Captain?”
     “You call me captain and smile at me, I going to probably crap my panties.  Try taking off your uniform and whatever else you want and smile, I think I’d like that a lot and probably smile right back at you.  How’s this?”
     “Excellent teeth, there Tommy except for that tiny bit of spinach.  Are you going to bite me with them?”
     “I might.”
     “Here or here?”
     “How about here or here?”
     “Ok, but let me kiss you first and then I’ll work down to those two bits of Eden.  Do you want the light on or off?”
     “This time, I want to watch you.  Please leave it on.  Next time is your choice.  Let’s see some biting now and maybe just a tiny bit hard.  A tiny bit of blood will wash out of my sheets and there should be general healing by the next time, don’t you think?  No, harder.  Hmmmm. Come to me, my sweet canines.”
*****
     “Oh, god damn phone.  This better be important.  Major.Coats here………  Oh, good morning, General!  Yes.  Yes, I was aware of …  We were trying to formulate a set of viable…  No general.  Yes, I am aware of that General.  Sir, Captain Fishpickle is here…Uh, no sir.  I believe that was an anglicized name translation of ‘Garum’—the ancient Roman or ‘Garos’—Greek…uh, no, sir.  IV or V CBC…uh yes, sir…no, sir, more like a salty chutney….um,… and we are working on the psychological makeup of her right now.  No, sir.  Sir, we believe she is acceptably sane in every concept of the word and   That is true, Sir.  Yes, the Captain fully agrees she is capable of it and is highly motivated and has the opportunity and also sir, can make a statement as well as reach ultimate closure.  No, sir I did not mean to imply the media… Yes… Do you want me back there, sir or should I continue to work with the captain on these threads we have?  I mean possibilities of likelihood.  Very good Sir.  Yes sir, forty eight hours unless I hear differently from you.  Very good and good morning.”  “Ah crap!!”
     “Possibilities of likelihood?….did you just make up that jibberish now or have you been trying it out in secret, waiting for the proper time?  Oh, and what the hell did I agree with?”
     “You agree that she is very likely to pull the trigger.  You did say that, I recall.”
     “Ok…but that’s not all, is it?”
    “Oh, well just that she is unlikely to kill anyone else with her.”
     “Oh boy, I haven’t thought through that one at all yet.  We got busy last night, remember?............Do I sound like that when I talk to you on the phone?”
     “Like what?”
     “The staccato ‘no, sirs’ and ‘yes, sirs’.  Obsequious fawning yes-man comes to mind.”
     “You learn to think exactly like that term when you talk to generals.  Probably the same way they speak to presidents.”
     “Except McClellan, MacArthur, Stilwell, Singlaub, Chrystal—that was your Stanley’s great to the gazillionth uncle or cousin—there were seven generals, all named Stanley and all had to live it down, unsuccessfully if you want a captain’s amateurish historical opinion.”
     “Does that mean I’m gonna have to fire you?  You sure as hell weren’t being obsequious last night.  Did you really say, “Give it to me, slut” or was that a nightmare?”
     “No, the nightmare was when you told me ‘to talk dirty to you’.  If you had been wearing your hat, a camouflage bra or gold oak leaves pinned to your teddy, I would have had a heart attack!”
     “Grrr.  Come here, then.  I am going to have to discipline you….Ah crap.  Mo-fu phone!”  “Hello, Major Coats here.  Really?  Well, whose idea was that, anyway?”
     …..
     “The Colonel?  Why doesn’t that surprise me?  Being the dumbest idea since the cast iron Spruce Goose, did anyone dare to sign off on it?”
     …..
     “There you go!  Amazing!; we’ll be there in a thirty or sooner.  Ask the colonel to sit quietly, please. Suggest he read memoranda re: hostile individuals especially the part about having up to date psychological profiles and threat potentials available and maybe a couple of Jane Austens while he is twiddling his thumbs.”
     “Hmmm, guess what, Captain?  “Remember how much I like our idiot, Colonel Swick—the marine’s answer to Captain Brannigan?
     “I’ve heard you wax glorious on our colonel.  What’s he done now?  Get picked up by Wally-Wally-Mart Security for shoplifting?
     “No, not like the last time.  That would be much easier to extract him from.  Our colonel led his crack force to surround and subdue our possible terrorist, Susan James Anderson, and has been taken prisoner.  He and his group are now hostages.  I get to inform the General.  I’m beginning to wish I was back in bed with you.  Wait, we are in bed together.  Do you think we have ti…?”
     “No chance in hell, Major; especially me—I’m slower the second time around:  Youth and sex are wasted on the young.  Let me get dressed in one minute and find my briefcase and papers.  We can finally talk about Susan on our way back if you can stay out of my pants and keep your eyes on the road or maybe I should drive this time.”  
*****
     “Ok, you look presentable except you might want to straighten your tie and wipe that lipstick off that’s all over your face.  Geez, did I ever get you on the lips?
     “Your tongue knew the way in, that’s all I cared about.   You look very presentable, very officerish; I sure as hell liked it, loved it, the way before.  Can you take this crap out for me.  I’m gonna take a leak on this rhody and be with you in two.
     “I hate you men.  It takes me four minutes just to pull my pants down.  Think of the time I lose in the johns.”
     “Didn’t take you that long last night.”
     “I had great incentive.  You’ll have to come into the little girls’ rooms with me in the future.”
     “Are those stalls the same size as in men’s?  Wait, didn’t you want to save time?”
     “Busted!  Ok, you get to drive your 356-Repli-Rocket©; drive carefully but please drive fast.”
*****
    “Oh, you surprised me, Mr. Doe, Senior.  I was just doing some inputting on my students.  What do you need?  To talk or…?
     “Talk is good.  I wanted to talk to you here in private about what you know about me; no eavesdroppers, intentional or not.”
     “Well, unless you tell me something, I don’t know anything.”
     “I want to talk about my employer.”
     “Oh, that is wonderful.  You remember something about whom you work for?”
     “My other employer.”
     “Oh, dear.  Have we been having nightmares again?”
     “Mrs. Cratchitt, how many times do you really expect me to forget our last and previous conversations?”
     “Then you do remember something.  That is wonderful.  Do you know your name now?”
     “Loxosceles reclusa.”
     “Excuse me?!!?”
     “That is th…..”
     “No, I recognize it; I know what it is:  The brown recluse, I believe--not the friendliest eight-legger you could have picked.  I just don’t understand.”
     “My name is Spider.”
     “Oh, well, that is a little sinister but most of you are really much more pleasant than your little one you chose for an alterego.  Ever since I read Mr. White’s book in the third grade, I have loved our eight legged little friends.  It doesn’t have to be one of the aggressive bad-guys, you know.”
     “Would you say that to a Loxosceles?”
     “Oh, I am going to miss our fascinating conversations!  I wonder if the bobby or Sherlock or Scotland Yard detective who nabbed Jack the Ripper had a chance to sit down and chat like we have and then miss it.”
     “Have you told any of those three groups about me?”
     “And have them take you away from my ward?   …Not on your life!!”
     “Then I shall remember my promise,” and he pulled out a very thin piece of cord.
     “Ah, that.  I’ve wondered a long time about that and I question whether it was fair to thrust you into that role without the opportunity for others to take it on—equal opportunity, you know?”
     “You are not really suggesting a proxy now, are you Mrs. Cratchitt?  I’m afraid that would not…”
     “Oh my, no:  It was more along the lines of whether I should have promised the same thing to you.”  She reached under her files and pulled out the very illegal ZZ-44 Susan had given Fry not really all that long ago.  “This is really a remarkable little instrument, Loxosceles.  I’m sure you would have had fun trying it out on Charlie.  You, unfortunately did not have an opportunity to meet Charlie, whom we see, or, more accurately, used to see about six or seven times a year:  A committed alcoholic whose liver finally caught up with his nasty habit.  He wanted me to put him out of his misery—no more prolonging the inevitable.  As much as I was fond of him and wanted him to stop, I don’t believe I would have agreed although I could have pointed out a serviceable suicide booth not far from here—the one across from the billboard of that ridiculous Zap Brannagan.  But I needed someone to test this, this tool—on, to see if it would work and how and the range and noise.  You know what I mean, I suspect.  And in our lovely little arboretum behind us, Charlie and I took a walk.  I stopped and he strolled ahead maybe ten feet and I pulled this little trigger.  It lifted him off the ground, came down horizontal-like but much too fast to be graceful and very much dead.  The noise was a loud hum with a whoosh—fascinating!--and would easily be dismissed by anybody who heard it.  Just pulled the trigger:  Like this.”  Spider did not have time to react; he had not been surprised since he was known as the Silver Surfer and it was a novel, even an enjoyable, experience—the awe of discovering something new.  The Preacher sayeth, ‘there is nothing new under the sun'; he was wrong.”  
     *****
     “As near as I can determine, General, Colonel Swick made an independent decision to remove Susan James Anderson, former Lieutenant in Pantheon Division on Parthos and decorated and honorably discharged from the Corps who has maintained well above minimal activity in her inactive reserve unit and has participated in four maneuvers with Amadeus Division.  The Colonel deployed four men at one hundred yard quadrants from her van and led the remaining five men, involving no non-coms or officers who might have asked him an embarrassing question to which he would have had to lie to.  Four men rushed the van and he and a grunt observed ten yards away.  Turned out that the captured Susan James Anderson was a dummy and her assault rifle was a tree branch.  While the back two walked up to investigate, Susan quietly subdued the four sentries and left them handcuffed and gagged.  There apparently was some kind of argument within the van of which if this had been a sanctioned raid, would have led to the court martial of four marines.  She, our real life terrorist, just casually walked up behind them and took them—still arguing but now with the Colonel participating-- prisoner, she marched them to her van and drove to the top of Little Roundtop Hill with limited access, water and food, a place to secure her prisoners and which offered excellent observation of the surrounding area including electronic and satellite monitoring as well as offering superior field of fire in all directions.  Thanks to the arsenal of the colonel’s group, she is very well armed including mortars along with fixed artillery and bunkers of the previously unoccupied station.  What the hell Swick was going to do with those mortars against her, I have no idea.  I met with her and left a quarter hour ago.  She wants steaks, potatoes, hotdogs, baked beans and chips and beers for her hostages and a six pack of root beer, a small bag of rice and a bag of carrots for her.  She still wants to talk to you, Sir.”
     “Good gods!  From a nuisance to a situation in minutes.  Can we have that idiot shot if she doesn’t do it?
     “Sorry, Sir.  Even under the most draconian measures of military law, stupidity is not a capital offense.  But if you want to rush them, we could make sure he was the first victim.”
     “Um, not yet anyway but I’ll keep that as an open option.  Do you think I should meet with her?”
     “I suggest I return with no steaks or beers but a dozen bratwursts, kraut, buns, a bag of chips and a pot of beans, a paella, a bag of carrots and a case of root beer—3.2, right?.  Sit down with her over two of her 3.2s and find out what the hell she really wants.”
     “Hell, I know what she wants.  Same thing you’d want; same thing I would.  Somehow she has seen her husband, maybe he had contact with her.  If she doesn’t know where he is now, then she wants to know where the fudge her husband is and why we’ve been lying to her for a gazillion years.  I strongly suspect she is way beyond of accepting an apology but probably wouldn’t hurt if we told her the truth.  The lie was probably an abomination at the start but fairly reasonable and justifiable at the end.  Ok, this is what we’re going to do; tell her the truth.  It’s still classified but it doesn’t serve any purpose any longer; I’ll take full responsibility for you acting on my direct orders.  Tell her that her husband almost died in their war zone and faced severe medical and mental health issues for years after.  He was recruited at an early age and trained for years in his craft.  You don’t know by whom, where, why and may never know.  You don’t know who recruited him but you can tell her he’s dead.  You can tell he was a highly trained seasoned operative that had five contracts on Parthos of which he was successful in four.  He was captured attempting his last.  He had to be removed because…he was just plain sick and dangerous.  He recovered but did not want to return--hell, he violently refused--to a cover which included his wife, Susan.  You can play this part by ear on whether it is good or bad that she know:  He married her voluntarily in part because he loved her; he was also ordered to find a wife as part of his cover.  He has since gone rogue and we don’t know where he is.  If at any time from zero hour on Parthos when he was liberated by a raid that lost the lives of over one hundred men to a couple of weeks ago, had he wanted his wife to know about him, we would have informed her.  I can’t see the outcome could have been any different.  Remind her we offered to expedite the declaration of his death several times so she could move on, marry or such but that she declined and that we similarly offered a vacation or retirement to him as well as re-uniting him with his wife after he was debriefed and retired.  Whenever we mentioned that therapy would be available, he would  fly into a rage.  Tell her I shall meet with her to tell this over again and answer any questions, if I know the answers and if she promises as a Marine officer, I shall not become a hostage but that I look forward to it.  And lastly, she is to release the nine innocent marines but she can keep the doofus, if she wants him and execute him, if she so desires, that would be recorded an accident.  Regardless, she will have twelve hours to surrender her arms and remaining hostage(s) and she can keep the root beers not drunk and carrots and go home.  Otherwise we shall be forced to rush her.  She shall die and at least a dozen Marines—some who don’t know anything about Parthos.  Please repeat orders and then, good luck.  Please do not end up as one more hostage I’m going to have to worry about.  Getting too old to multitask.”
*****
     The smile from Cratchitt was only appreciation of her little piece of firepower that she did not have to clean up afterwards.  She threw a blanket over the still form of Spider on her floor and wished she could have had the foresight to prevent Burkhart from receiving powerful synthetic narcotics.  He would be so very useful about now.  She walked purposefully down the hall and knocked on and opened Leela’s door.
     Leela was sitting in the chair by the bed staring off into space.  She had ranged far and wide last night but did not seem to be sleepy.  “Have you heard from her, Dear?”
     “I’ve given up.”  Her eye watered momentarily and Leela angrily scrubbed them out; she had just about enough of crying.  I’ve still got Fry…sort of?”
     “Leela, they both will be back and loving you before you know it.  Hospital vigils are hell.  You’d be better to go off and go do something fun.  I could call you if anything changes; I’d be happy to.
     “Thank you, Mrs. C, but I don’t think I could have fun anyway.  I maybe could go out and beat somebody up, try to pick someone who looked like Sooz in some lesbo-bar but I don‘t suppose you’d recommend either.”
     “Depends on whether you’d accept recommendations on who gets it with the former.  You’re just going to be terribly disappointed with the latter; you’re probably right:  It’s not a good idea.  I am terribly sorry but this may be an emergency of sorts.  May I ask you a totally off-topic and rather worldly and macabre question?”
     “Leela looked surprised but felt relieved to think about something else even for a short period.”  She nodded.
     “If someone kills a killer, feels threatened, has been threatened but not recently, the killer has no weapon and is twenty feet away…is that self-defense or in fact, murder?”
     “Mrs. C, Very Special Nurse, there is no way in hell that can be a hypothetical question.  Whom did you kill, where and when?”
     “Oh dear…I didn’t think we’d get to this stage for um…quite a bit later.  Uhm…Mr. Doe, Senior…fifteen minutes ago or less in my office.  Are you going to turn me in like I would recommend you to, like I deserve?”
     “Hell, no!  And if they come after you, they’ll have to go through me first.  First we need either to get you a good attorney or get rid of the body or both.  This guy was in here a week, with no ID, has no contact with anyone and no one is looking for him; no one is going to miss him.”
     “Leela, this wasn’t spontaneous.  He didn’t surprise me or anything; I planned it.  When he promised to kill me ‘as gently as he knew how’, I thought, ‘bull-crap.’  I had put Mr. Fry’s weapons upon admission into a locker, very impressed and fascinated I was.  I removed the smallest one and least scary.  I tested it and then waited.  Mr. Doe apparently regained his memory or sufficiently enough to remember our conversations and came to me.  He was not jovial or pleasant like his usual self but rather quite as matter of fact and I suppose professional if that sort of thing is a legitimate profession.  I assume he was going to keep his promise and make my death painless but was not totally sure of it.  The truth is, I am not ready to die; I have unfinished business.  When the time comes, it will be a blessing but not now.”
     “Sounds like self defense to me but I would not want to bet my life or yours on what nine idiots and an idiot judge might think.  You know, rather than go to the trouble of digging a hole and filling it and then maybe have something or someone go to the all the work of digging it up again, we should have a burial in space.  How would you like to spend the morning with me at Lunar Park?”
     “Oh that would be fun; I’ve never been there.  And it would be sort of like burial at sea like in the total experiences, wouldn’t it?  …except there would be no unpleasant crabs and bottom feeders.  I think…..Would you mind if I talked to Christopher and got a second opinion?”
     “As long as you go to a doctor better than me for your second opinion, it’s fine—no quacks.  Christopher more than fits that category.  Do you want company or just go by yourself?”  
     “If you don’t mind, I’ll come back here within the hour.  If I don’t, I want you to promise to stay here and pick out some memorabilia of mine; I won’t need it in prison.  In fact, take everything you can use before it’s confiscated to pay for my confinement.  It honestly may never come to this, and it would be my decision but if you even think of trying to interfere with any police or detective, I’ll give you an enema that’ll you’ll remember the rest of your life.  I’ll probably be back but don’t worry about me, Fry or Suzy.  Everything will work out all right in the end like some shippy story, maybe not as you planned it, but ok—honest.”
   *****

[Reply #74 on:]

Nurse…please help me…please…”
     “Future nurses, I have the privilege this morning  to introduce you to a lovely elderly woman who has just come to us via the Gerry-wing.  You look so much better, Mrs. Sweeney.  I can tell you’re better, too, aren’t we.?”
     “Nurse…please HELP ME…HELPP!”
     “It’s ok, honest.  Here, let me help you adjust your pillow.  Have you urinated today?  I see that you have with your nice new sheets.  I’ll just put this blanket over your toes.”
     “Nurse…”
     “Mrs. Sweeney, this fine looking group of young men and women are excellent prospect for taking care of you for years to come.   They are going to introduce themselves to you and you’ll have an opportunity to chat.”
     “NURSE, YOU have to …
     “Please, one at a time, introduce yourself to Mrs. Sweeney, tell her a little bit about yourself and where you are from and ask how you can help her; what would she like you to do.  We’ve got plenty of time before OR prep.”
     “Good morning Mrs. Sweeney.  I am Robbie Zwick and I’m from Midland, Michigan—remember when they had that huge explosion at Dow-Phizer, well, this is what the casualties look like.  What can I or we do for you now or later?”
     “NURSE, I WANT TO DIE.  PLEASE, for gods’ sakes, UNPLUG that respirator and slip a little overdose of barBITUATEs into my IV, please.”
     ***
     “Hello, Mrs…” and it went down the class with each one pleaded to: please end my life.”
     “NURSE…”
      Nurse Cratchitt quickly exited taking her goslings in her wake.  Mrs. Sweeney continued to beg although it had risen to something close to a yell and another octave up which you could not escape from on Seven.
     “There is no real reason to leave; she can’t hear a piano drop from the floor above although she reads lips excellently and is a pro with body language.  It’s just a matter of courtesy.  As to her, I assume, catholic request of you:  The answer is…of course…Kenny, please tell us what emergency procedure can be implemented through the sufferer’s ear.”
     “’Words of comfort’:  It’s all we have, unfortunately, in this case and I suspect a little on the cool side.”
     “Very good albeit a trifle cynical but accurate nonetheless.”  “She had better trained and more care-givers in Geriatrics but like all medical centers, we are critically over bedded.”  “It’s hard and it’s heart-wrenching but please bear in mind she feels absolutely no physical pain but short of a zombie-dream-wracked gravelike existence, we cannot do anything:  Too much radiation to her brain.  On my desk by 05.00hours, a six page paper but less than twenty-five—glancing at Gwen--on what we can do to alleviate Mrs. Sweeney.  Citations, if required.  Please meet in OR Prep in fifteen minutes.”
     “NURSE, for GODS’ sakes…!!!”
*****
     Susan and Mary Kay each drank a root beer over the story and apology.  She cut the plastex handcuffs off of the grunts and told them to double time it to mess hall for some breakfast; Mary Kay stood behind her and nodded.  The nine saluted—surprising the hell out of Mary Kay until she remembered this was the woman who asked for steaks for the hostages and what their Colonel would have given them--turned and ran down the hill in formation.  Both the Rsv Lieutenant and Major watched them with no small amount of pride.  Colonel Swick sneered at his traitorous cowards and swore; Susan abruptly gave a yank on the cuffs tightening it one more notch and kicked his chair as she walked past giving him something else to swear about.   She sat back down, grabbed an ice cold root beer for Mary Kay and one more for herself and opened it with her Swiss-Croatia officer’s knife.  She sighed, “Well…that’s a little late but at least I know.  And to tell the truth, with the exception of your Colonel’s actions, I got more decent care and attention than I expected.  My husband:  I guess I was never more than part of elaborate cover.  As I think back…our limp honeymoon, indifference all the time and long silences—and that’s the good part—it makes sense.  There were times—I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice—when he wanted to break through.  I thought at the time it was to commit himself to me and our marriage.  Now I wonder if it was just some regret or guilty conscious.  Or did you permanently scrub that from him?”
     “Pretty much.  Andy and his team would have tried.  If I had been in charge and been willing to follow the order, I would have also.  It’s easy to blame Andy because he was a jerk, but…”
     “Did you make up that part about him loving me when he married me just to make me feel better?  I’m not sure if I do, but I do want to know”.  
     “I’m sorry.  You do know I never met your husband or the assassin.  The general told me that.  I know he feels terrible and personally responsible for much of it and is appalled at the lies you were given all these years.  I believe him and I don’t believe he’d add one more lie to the list.  If he didn’t love you, he would have said that.  In some ways that might relieve him a little of the responsibility.”
     I’m really sorry I caused so much trouble.  I just wished someone would have told me without me demanding it. “
     Mary Kay thought a moment, “You were treated unfairly:  The whole way with eyes wide open.  “Ma’am, I read your full record—the one you can’t ever see”— she jumped and saluted,  “and I don’t think I ever met a braver, better Marine and that includes my posthumous medal of honor recipient husband killed in the same stupid conflict.  It’s been an honor to meet you and I hope General McChrystal will find the time to come visit you after these hellish reviews are over.  I’m sure he will want to.  I am going to see if I can’t shake someone’s butt in reviewing your benefits as well as some way to address overdue medals for you and your husband.  His heart was somewhere else but in spite of that, he was a good marine.  I wish he had been a better husband and I wished we had let him.  Your commanding officer made the medal recommendations, one of the last things he ever made.  Well done Lieutenant.  If you ever want to serve again, come see me or General McChrystal.  Same if you ever need anything we might be able to provide.  By the way, the General was impressed with the way you ambushed the Colonel.”
     Suzy threw her arms around Mary Kay and cried.  They both cried for ten minutes which was the same length of duration as the colonel’s expletives.
     “Sorry it’s not really beer and only about three point two percent alcohol but give the rest to the Suzy-the-Terrorist-Nine and apologize one more time for me.  I don’t need any more medals:  Give ‘em to the wily colonel here.”  and she kicked his chair again.
     He was still cursing as she leaned down to cut his cuffs.  She smiled and said, “I apologize Col. Swick; I had no intention to hurt you or your men.”  She stuck her hand out to shake his hand which pleased Mary Kay Coats to no end.  The Colonel took the offered hand and flipped her, grabbing his razor-sharp kbar from the table where it was waiting for him.  He had it gripped and moving toward her before you landed.   He sunk the foot long blade and twisted it pulling it out at an oblique angle.  He was about to cut her throat when Mary Kay took his head off with her sidearm.  She called the medivacs at the base hospital and they were there in less than a minute.  
     Mary Kay held her shaking hand on the little Smvisky rocket powered medicopter.  Suzy talked slow but quietly and steady, coughing up a little bloody flem, “…if possible, please take me to CK Beth Israel.  Mary Kay held her hand tighter, “So, you feel like a Kosher to go with those rootbeers?”
     “Normally I would but maybe not today; the nurse on seven has good scotch.  Maybe you could stay a while and have one with me?”
     “Sure, and until we get you comfortable, safe, secure  and settled.”  “Teddy, head to Claussen Kosher and give them a buzz about Susan back here and tell them I want her put on the seventh floor or we’ll start going to Pizza Hut Memorial or Burger-King Blessed Heart.”
     The pretty corpsman yelled over the rotors and wind that she was stabilized and vitals were improving although there was still some hemorrhaging, she would make it with a procedure or two.  Mary Kay smiled and kissed the strapped in woman on the cheek and gave a thumbs up to the pilot as she adjusted her headset.  Little Round Top was lost from view in fifteen-twenty seconds.
     *****
     Despite her swearing and promises and general resolve, Leela broke down again and cried longer than Susan’s marathon and even drowned out poor Mrs. Sweeney.  She finally stopped gasping and lay next to Fry, squeezing the life out of him and still sobbing.
     It was so quiet again she did not hear it at first.  “Leela, what is the matter?  You sound like your heart is breaking.”  Fry tried to get her attention by hugging her back.  She still held on to him so tightly, she never felt the return.  His voice grew a little louder for a second question of concern and concluded with almost a shout.  Leela fell out of bed screaming for joy.  Fry looked over the edge at the Cyclops hugging herself and her mouth threatening to bisect her face with an ever widening smile and still laughing and screaming.
     He had to admit it felt good to be loved.  He did not yet wonder where Susan was.
*****
     Christopher walked down the hall with Nurse Cratchitt to her office.  “Is that Mrs. Sweeney I hear yelling?  They gave her to you, did they?  You being more experienced in internal, I’ll see if Mercy can take her or another Jerry in trade for a drug-resistant or two.  You like that, would you?  Although, you are going to assist in the gelding of Thomas if he says, ‘No’.”
     “Crappo!  I’d do that for the fun of watching.”
     “Hmmmmm.”  
     Her door was still closed and locked.  She fumbled with her key and her hand was shaking.  He was watching her and gently put his hand over hers; it lingered there one or two seconds and then took the key and opened the door; this was the first time in all these years he had ever seen her shaken—at a complete loss.  On the floor, the blue hospital blanket had been pushed aside but other than that, the only indication that Savitch had ever been in her office was the dead cigarillo.
     She stared a solid minute before beginning a long series of curses that impressed the hell out of the virgin-eared doctor.
     Christopher picked up her phone and called Willie and briefed him quickly and asked for help and advice.  He hung up and hugged the shaking nurse.  “We’ll get him and we’ll protect you too.  You are hereby relieved.  Lock this door and put this chair in front of it and don’t let anyone unless you hear me or someone I send mention your husband’s name.  We’ll have security here in a minute and I’ll threaten Clarence to increase that or face a neutering some night when he is sleeping.”
     “Dr. Brown, you cannot be serious.  There is no way I am going to relieved and hide in here.  I have twenty students and forty patients most of which need me and whom I need equally; I am a nurse—a good one and I don’t hide.  Security can tag along if they wash their hands and keep their mouths shut and wear scrubs or something.”  
     “Well, in our long association, I have learned not to try to argue over a non-medical issue, even if I know I am right.  Ok, carry on…..but…please be careful.”  
     “What do you mean, ‘if you were right’?  Doctor, do you know what I did to screw up; why is this man still alive?”  
     “I can tell you how to perhaps save him depending on his condition but…I am ignorant as hell of this sort of thing.  I’ll ask Willie, he’ll be here any minute.  Maybe though, you should have used an axe; they usually stay dead, then.”
*****
     “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to take you into surgery.  Doesn’t appear complicated but you’ll have to come out of into ICU.  You’ll stay there two maybe three days and unless there are any complications or you need a different type of care and monitoring, then we can put you on seven.”
     “Mary Kay, they tell me they can’t put me on my old floor.  But hold on before you start threatening this young doctor.  You know, I’ve been thinking.  I’m headed for natural life in some maximum security prison.  I think I’d just as rather die than prolong that inevitability.”
     “Prison?  What the hell are talking about?”
     “Kidnapping:  A felony in which someone was killed; I am responsible for the Colonel’s death same as if I pulled the trigger.”
     “You were defending yourself against an illegal action against you by a rogue officer who subsequently killed himself with a bizarre form of sepaku with his blaster which you had just given him.  I was there; I saw the whole damned thing.”  “And you shall go to seventh floor.  We’ll go to another hospital, if not.”
     “I’m sorry.  The Major will have to go into Surgery Prep first and once out, she will go to ER for a couple of days whether she requires it or not.  It’s for her care and protection.”
     “Doc…how many surgeries has CK done this month?  You sure you’re meeting your CEO’s quota?  I understand Mr. Thomas is real understanding when you slip.  You sure you can afford to miss this one?  How about the four to eight we send you every month?  You’re the doctor, you’re the surgeon.  I, sure as hell, ain’t gonna tell you how to run your operating room but…you might think about Clarence Thomas who jolly well will.”  
     “Please, Doctor:  You know Nurse Ratchitt is the best care-giver you have at Beth Israel; she will get me well regardless of the complication.  She’ll browbeat me into health if necessary.”
     “That might have some validity and Seven has most of the equipment and staff that you probably would need  Ok, I going to have to take this to the Ogre Thomas who will draw up a release statement regarding Intensive Care you will have to sign and then we can admit you and prep you on seventh floor for my area.  It might help or speed up the process if when Thomas comes up with the release, tell him I badgered you into it to keep you from going to Burger King…make him think you’re caving into the center’s request rather than the other way around.  He’ll pee on his own shoe rather than let you do it to yourself and profit somehow by it.  I’ll see you under my knife and I’ll assure you now while you are still coherent; There is less than .00001 chance of any complications.  Say hi to Cratchitt and good luck; not that you need it when I’m cutting.  Just be sure to follow the chief nurse’s orders for rest and rehabilitation; you’ll be better than new.”
*****
     Fry and Leela finally were able to tune out Mrs. Sweeney’s pleading to die and had just started to pay attention to each other when a gurney crashed through their door and the couple looked at each other in sheer frustration.  Nurse Cratchitt came flying in seconds later followed by a cadre of girls in white.  Instruction had begun.  Leela whispered into Fry’s ear, “Do you want to walk down the bathroom across the library and finish what you thought about starting?”  
     He looked pensively for a moment and kissed her.  “Just hold me and we’ll greet our new roommate when he/she/it comes up for air.”  
     “Listen up kids…she’s already sedated consider it sufficient for preOp.  Kimmy, give her an IV and in as soon as you have a good drip, inject the pre-anesthesia into it.  How much are you giving her and what would the dose be if she came in at 240kg?  Hmm-hmm.  Gwen, manually take her vitals and confirm them against the read outs.  Sylvia do a quick blood culture and get four pints of her blood down to OR4.  Tell me quick where are you taking it?  Don’t trust the barcode; use a grease pencil!  Kimmy, you got her drug in?  Ok, check to see if she needs shaving in her groin in case we need a catheter there and scrub it down well.  Sally, you inject the dormitol into her vein at T-0.01.  Now tell me what is dormitol and when do we usually not use it at CK?  …  Ok, good, and tell me the correct dose for her as well the factors you use to determine that.  Very good.  Diane, Why didn’t she use her sex, as well?  Right.  Last one, Sally:  when?  Bingo.  Very good, both of you.  The rest of you, give her a disinfectant sponge bath of everywhere except face, chest, and groin and Cyndi, wash her hair and wrap it up in the blue gauze.  Last item: each of you, except Gwen, take her vitals and confirm against read outs.  Report to me if there is a difference of >0.01 and take a retina scan and the rest of you help give her an ekg and eeg.  C’mon, let’s get cracking here.  We’re 40 some seconds behind T-0.30.       John Doe, Junior lay on his back with waves of dizziness and nausea rushing through him.  He had just come to seconds ago and took a minute to understand why he was here as well as to account for two casts and an IV.  “God damned pain meds; I wish to gods they’d never given them to me.  I have no idea what’s going on.”  It was at that moment Suzy’s gurney came speeding down the hall and crashed through Fry’s door.  Burkhart could not believe it, ‘What the fudge; that supposed to be a secure area!!  What the hell are they doing putting someone else in there?’  He jumped out of bed.  The combination between the clumsiness of the cast, putting weight on his torn foot and the resulting pain and the drug-induced dizziness, he took a half of a step and fell on his face--hard.
     Two student nurses walking down the hall saw Doe, Jr fall and rushed in trying to be helpful.  They got him up and let him fall again when each thought the other had him.  Burkhart yelled to the blonde, “Blondie, if you want to help, get me some crutches now.”  “Red, please open the top dresser drawer and hand me that blaster in there.  It’s ok, the safety is set.”
     Sally, the redhead opened the drawer and saw the huge black and red blaster and she froze.  It was like she had just unpacked a box and found a horribly mutated gigantic staphylococcus from Acme; she was disgusted and afraid to touch it.
     “Red!  Now!  Give it to me now.  And don’t you dare toss it.  Please bring it to me.  It’s ok, honest.  It’s safe and I need it…….Thank you.  Tell those two security people across the hall to open the door when I get there….please.”
     Linda ran in with two crutches that needed to be adjusted but he said thanks and took them from her.  She watched him speed off improbably uncoordinated over the twelve foot hall and wondered how he kept hold of that ugly blaster.
     Burkhart flew into the room, almost literally and would have fallen if Leela and Fry had not grabbed him.  He yelled, “Who is in that god damned bed and why is it here and has the occupant been cleared?”  He reached for the blanket draped over the prone patient and the nurse slapped his hand.  His blaster wavered wildly and everyone involuntarily took a step or two back and two dove for the floor.  Six pairs of eyes plus one stared at him still startled from the third intrusion in seconds.   I assure you, Mr. Doe, everything is under control.  You can stay if you’d like to observe but we have to finish prepping this preop.
          Fry and Leela, you two are in on this too.  Take off her warming blanket over her face and kiss her.  Now, god damn it so Mr. Doe can breathe!
     Fry looked at the equally naked Leela who shrugged.  They got out of bed and leaned over the gurney oblivious to some of the giggling pre-nurses.  They carefully removed the blanket and both stared at the drugged Susan.  It took them well over one minute  to react by jumping up and down, hugging each other and finally kissing the pre-op patient.  Ok you two, enough dancing and yelling:  You get to carefully scrub up and get gloves and gowns on and you can scrub your patient’s face all covered with microbe laden kisses, her torso with special care to the breasts and between her legs; hop to it.  She hugged both of them.  “She was knifed but looks like she just had a bad day and a close call.  I’m positive she will have a hell of a story for you when she comes out of surgery but bear in mind the drugs when you first hear it.  Why the hell she isn’t going to ICU?:  I can’t figure out:  Probably trying to economize again.  On my desk, before dinner, give me at least a two page paper why that is a dumb idea.  Do not criticize the CEO, at least, overtly.”  
     Leela smiled.  “You don’t know the admiral’s niece.  I think I know why.”
     Burkhart touched Nurse Cratchitt on the arm, “Ok, that was really cute.  Stupid, but cute.  Sorry for the intrusion.”  He stuck his blaster in his waist band of the hospital bottoms and wrapped the tie string around the handle.
     “Willie suggested I run a test or two to keep you on your toes.”
     “Nurse, anyone else and I would believe but Willie ain’t that smart.”
     Fry tapped him on the shoulder, “Mr. Burkhart,  that is not the proper way to transport a blaster.”
     He glared at Fry for a second and then nodded, “You’re right.  You, please, carry it across the hall? and he slipped out of the room followed by Fry.
     He asked in passing security, “You guys know about the gurney?”
     “The return of the native?  Yeah, Cratchitt briefed us a half hour ago.”
     “Why the hell, dinja tell me?”
     “You didn’t ask, Sherlock.”
     After an expletive, Burkhart had to admit that was true.
*****

[Reply #75 on:]

[Reply #76 on:]

Hm. An interesting form of review.

[Reply #77 on:]

Hm. An interesting form of review.

Hmmm, not sure; might be his natural state.

[Reply #78 on:]

:pic:

That's the third best thing I ever saw!

Hm. An interesting form of review.

Hmmm, not sure; might be his natural state.

Ha ha, PWNed.

[Reply #79 on:]

    Suzy did not mean to shout, her announcement was supposed to be in a calm quiet voice.  “It’s my husband.  The psycho assassin who’s been trying to kill Fry and me is my husband….”  Her voice dropped to a whisper.  “He was a spy and killer for the CIA; he always has been.  He married me because he needed a cover story and wife and was ordered to.  I have no idea why he wants to kill me now after all these years.  He left me; he chose not to come back.”  Leela came up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder and took her right hand.  Fry was right behind and took and squeezed her other hand.  They both hugged her.
     Burkhart came close to her and talked so low only Suzy, Leela and Fry could hear him.  “I’m really sorry you found out before I could kill him.  I didn’t want you to know.  Stevie never wanted you to know; not because it would protect his cover, he just never wanted to hurt you.  He vigorously protested that order on the grounds it was grossly unfair to both of you. Now, all bets are off; something more snapped in him.”  He looked at Leela and Fry, “Maybe you could talk to her.  Suggest she move out of state for a while, just until we can catch him; you know, a vacation.  We have some very nice safe houses on some isolated beaches on the Mediterranean and wooded canyons in Russia that only a handful of trappers have visited in the last thousand years.  There is a fantastic and beautiful cabin in the middle of the Gobi and on trout streams in the Canton of Switzerland-Austria.  Maybe stay a couple of weeks to a month or so.  The three of you could…”
     “No!!  Susan again yelled.”  And returned to her normal modulation almost immediately, I don’t know why but it’s important I don’t run away.  And how long would it take him to find me.  How long would it take if I was one your filthy contracts?”
     Burkhart winced but answered, “One month, maybe two, unless he’s already put a homing signal on you:  Maybe in your fight, maybe in your sleep one night before he jumped over the line.  You have every right and more to be very p.o.ed at me and the whole agency.  I was against using him from the start but I went along.  I was his second handler, his liaison or contact. For almost six months but it didn’t work out any better than his first, Handy Andy.  I was part of the camp that wanted him retired after his third or fourth mission; he was too damn good and they wouldn’t let him retire or get help.  I went along like everyone else.  Yeah, you have a right.
     “You didn’t know him like I did, he was my husband.  It wasn’t full time but it was almost a year.  I know who he was until you guys started pushing him into a hole.  You made him a crazy killer!!  It’s not his fault.”
     “I know it seems like that and there may be some truth in it but there is more to it than that one view.  You saw what he wanted you to see; he was very good at that.  He may have fallen in love with you after he went to another handler but he never did when he was with me.  He never even really liked you.  And he was a killer, the agency just taught him more efficient ways to do it and he was a fast learner but he already knew how.  You knew him a year; I knew him fourteen.  I was his older brother.  We have different fathers, different names; the agency would never have given him to me if they had known we were related.”
     “How could you have let your little brother get swept up by those killers?”
     “You never could stop him from doing something he wanted to do.  His mother, father, teachers, local cops, prison guards, psychiatrists learned that in short order.  He was in an institution making some progress; I wanted to think that anyway, but he was recruited out of there and Andy got to him before I ever knew he was in the picture.  I never forgave him for that and I don’t know how many times I contemplated killing him for that over the years.  Apparently so did Steve.”  
     “Steve had a terrible problem and he convinced me he had kicked it.  I walked in on him as he was finishing eating the last man of his team on Parthos.  I beat the crap out of him and made him throw up what he could and then I gave him one unpleasant enema.  I would have given anything to do that with his mind.  I know I should not have but I told him that we were through; I dis-owned him.  I never wanted to see him again; I never did.”
     “Do you think he’s still in the hospital?”  
     “Hard to guess; could be.  He might be miles from here and won’t come around till he’s ready.
     “No! He’s here.  I shot him but somehow I didn’t.  He could have left my office through the window but he chose the door and locked it behind him.  He could not have done that with the window.”
     Everyone stared at Nurse Cratchitt.  Burkhart took her hand, “What do you mean you shot him?  You mean you missed?”
     “No, I couldn’t miss him at that range.  He just didn’t die.  I used this.”  And she pulled out the little ZZ-44 and held it up for everyone to see like in show and tell.  
     “A Simlyzz!” and Burkhart gently took it from her.  “The 44 was the most powerful of that series.  Too powerful; it was banned by executive order—one of President Nixon’s Saturday night massacre victims along with land mines—and by DOOP.  I thought all had been seized and destroyed.   I’ve never seen one in this color combination before and I wonder if it is indicative of having some feature--a prototype?  How on earth did you come by it, Mrs. Crachitt?”
      “It was in…”
     “I gave it to Fry and it would have been in personal property Mrs. Cratchitt kept for him.  I know it’s illegal.  My husband, Dwight….er, I guess, Steve…….gave it to me on Parthos—to protect myself.  The Corps had a serious problem that at times bordered on mutiny.  Too long of deployments in too harsh of an environment in a too violent war zone.  The prime victims were officers and women throughout the three divisions and a MEU and wing:  Rape and murder.  I heard that a brigade turned on its Lt Colonel and it may have gone higher—way higher.  USEMC seemed more concerned about the image than the actual damage or reasons; there were a lot of news blackouts.  Corporals could not trust their teams; I had to watch my platoon as well as the Parthinians and after two Captains were fragged, I became de facto Company E commander.  If there wasn’t so much terror and fear, it would have been a black humor funny.  Dwight intervened—a guardian angel—more than once and more often against my own men.  I got credit when it went against the Parthinians and was going to made captain or even Lt Colonel for my ability to control my troops but I went to General Westmorland and explained how it happened.  He didn’t think it was all Dwight but he got my point.  By the time Dwight had disappeared—not even a rumor--and I finally got my platoon and even company in order, we got a captain in that was better than me.  I only had to use the ZZ four times.  I figure I earned the right to carry it.  You don’t disagree do you?”
     “Nope:  Not in the slightest.  That maybe is what it was designed to do—in the hands of a competent user.  Nurse Cratchitt, this is why our Assassin Stevie did not die, you only shut him down really, really well for a lot less time than with the normal recipient:  Maybe it’s something to do with his psychoses.  But he’s going to be extremely weak and unstable for some time.  He’s going to have to hole up for at least a couple of more hours.  You’re right, Nurse.  He’s hiding in the hospital some place; you probably won’t find him on his feet.”
*****
     “Mr. Fry, I have good news for you.  All of your tests are negative and you have no behavioral symptoms remaining from the parabesol ingestion.  You also check out perfectly with your neck injury.  Your records are complete and you are free to leave.  
     Suzy and Leela clap and whoop.  Apparently they both think of going home alone; they look at each other and laugh, “As if!”
     “Cool.  Can I switch my gown with my clothes and stay as a visitor to Suzy?”  
     “Since Susan has you and Ms. Turanga listed as her primary family, you are welcome to stay tonight but I expect she also will be checked out by tomorrow night.  If you would like, we could bring in a rollaway single for you to sleep on.  
     Again both women looked at each other and burst out laughing.
     Fry blushed but managed to respond reasonably well, “Uh, no thank you; the chair will be fine.”
     The junior administrator smiled as additional laughter erupted, “How nice we are all so jovial; it is so pleasant to be the bearer of good news and help create that joy.  Are you two eating with Susan tonight or do you want to go out and celebrate?”
     Fry looked at Leela who answered, “We’d like to mourn our departure from your care together when Sooz is released and your menu for tonight looks yummy.  May we have a pinot noir instead of the Chablis, please?”
*****
     Susan was pouring a little more wine into Fry’s and Leela’s glasses when Sgt Funicello of their security detail knocked and entered.
     “Hey, Sarge, I’m just killing this bottle off.  Can I give you a little from the corpse?”
     “I’d love a glass, Suzy, but it’d be my luck if Thomas or Willie smelled it on my breath.  There’s a detail outside searching the rooms, if they don’t find anything, we’re pulled until they change their minds.  Mind if I look under the bed and scrounge in the closet and bathroom?
     Leela rolled her eye.  “Uh, you think he got by the three of you and came into the room without one of us noticing?”
     “Not paid to think, Miss Leela; paid to follow orders no matter how stupid.  It’s a living.”
     “You’re right.  Now that I think about it, my following some of Hermes’ better ones borders on insanity.”
     “Guess what, guys?  You’re safe; he’s not here.”
     Leela jumped up and kissed him on the cheek.  “My hero!”
     Suzy called out as he put his hand on the door, “Who was that masked man?”
     Fry did not miss his cue, “I don’t know Ma’am but I’d like to thank him.”
     “Yep, we’re going to miss you guys.  Try not to get sniped.”
     “How in the hell are we going to do that without the lone stranger?” was yelled through the door.
     Funicello laughed as the door latched.  He quickly reprised the conversation for the other three security personnel who chuckled.  “Oh crap.  There’s my com; they changed their mind and have something worse for us to do.”  “Yeah, this is Funicello. …. Yeah, Mr. Silviwitzski, I just swept their room.  The floor team is here and we’re coming down. … Ok let me confirm that.  The rest of the team is to go to the roof.  I will bring Susan on a gurney—that’s one of these moveable beds  in the hallway, right.  Right, strapped down with her arm cast by her side but on the gurney and also strapped.  And I take her to Imaging to Dr. Li. …  Ok, where is Imaging? … Ok …  Ok.  Ok, and I stay there until the doctor is through at which time I return her to Seven or I am relieved by a nurse saying she is from you.  Why can’t one of the nurses here take her down?     ***      “Just a joke, Mr. Silviwitzski.  I’ll take care of it.  Right.”
     “Ok, slugs.  You guys head to the roof and report to the officer in charge there; I have to take Suzy down to Imaging.”  … “No!!  You can’t pay me to trade, now get moving.”
     “Ladies, Mr. Fry:  Sorry to bother you again but I have to take Susan down to Imaging.  I’ll wait and bring you back up, Ma’am.  
     “Great Sergeant, we weren’t allowed out of the room for a couple of hours now; a walk would be good.  And please don’t call me Ma’am; makes me feel as old as Leela, here.”
     “Hardy har har.  Push her down an elevator shaft Sgt Funicello.  Then they’ll have something to read off an image of that vacuous skull of hers.”
       “Sorry Miss Leela, I have strict orders to avoid shafts.  And Miss Susan, I have to take you on a gurney strapped down.”
     “Hah!  Open season, Sergeant.  Take the long route.  You got some mace in that kit of yours?”
     “You’ll note Purple Hair, he chose me.  Ok, Sergeant, strap me down and do with me what you will.  Philip  will save me.”
     “I doubt it, Sooz.  Fry is going to be busy here.  Don’t forget to smile for the cameras.”

*****
     All floors were being checked room by room by security details who were also verifying room occupants were who they said they were.  Prior to that they had swept the common rooms, bathrooms, storage closets, and lounges.  The team that was sweeping the stairway split themselves with two still on each landing while the other six watched for any movement in the halls during the search.  The nurse who was accompanying the floor detail spoke briefly to the team leader before entering the last room.  “This last one is Mrs. Sweeney.  She is a geriatric patient with some dementia, is deaf but reads lips, and gets confused easily.  She’s the one you’ve been hearing shouting while you’ve been on the floor.  I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hide in there with her without earplugs.  You might want to let me talk to her.  Ok, last one.”  “Hello, Mrs. Sweeney.  We’ve got v…”
     “Turn that damn light off; hurts my eyes!  Nurse, you have to help me.  For gods’ sakes please put an overdose of anything in that damn IV.  Please nurse.  It hurts too…”
     “….visitors who quickly want to check your room to see if it’s ok.  We’ll have them out of here in no time.  You guys want that light back on to search.  It’ll be ok no matter what she says.”  
     Linda answered sotto voce, “No problem; I can see well enough.”    
     “…much.  I want to die.  Who are these people?”
     “Inspectors.  Mrs. Sweeney.  Do you want me to pull your blanket down a little from your face so you can see better?”
     “I can see fine, damn it.  I’m cold.  Put another blanket over my feet.  Young woman, help me for gods’ sakes.”
     Linda, who lived with her mother taking care of her, shuttered.  This is what she was afraid she would be facing in a few years.  She checked out the last refuge—the bathroom and tried to tune out the voice demanding that death heed it.  “Ok, guys:  Clear!  Tim, tell the stairwell people to go on up.”  “Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Sweeney.”  She went through the door with the nurse closing it behind her.  Mrs. Sweeney was quiet for once.  Linda thought, ‘Maybe the excitement tired her:  Poor thing.’  
      She went into the hall; seven was clear and she put a thumbs-up to her two uzi-carrying shadows.  “That’s it for us until we muster.  You’ll be on new teams probably but who knows?  Maybe you should hang together until then.  Go grab a smoke and coffee.  I want to say bye-bye to the people across the hall.”  She pointed to Suzy’s room.  “Catch up with you later.”   She knocked on their door, heard the “come in; what’s the password?” and stopped.
     ‘Password!?!  That crew didn’t give me any password.’  And started to say ‘never mind’ when Leela opened the door.
     “Linda, did you get lost between the knock and the door handle?”
     “Hi, Leela.  Your security didn’t give me any code words for entry and frankly…”
     “Fry!  You idiot!  You’ve confused the good guys.”
     “They fell for the password joke?  Ha!”
     “Don’t mind him, he’s bored.  There is no password, at least we know of.”
     “Oh gods!  I am such a klutz.  I am so lucky I did not run into the baddie in the last four floors!  We’re done.  We checked everywhere; even the trash cans.  So you guys are safe for the moment; the floor is cleared.  Starting to look ok; we’re running out of places to look.”
     “Thank you, Linda.  I appreciate it.  The  idiot in there does too but he would rather kid you about it.”
     “I think it’s neat you still have a sense of humor all things considered.  Listen, were you serious about showing me some moves some time?  I don’t w…”
     “Of course!  We can have fun some weekend.”
     “Maybe when this settles down, I could give you a call?”
     “Here, let me write it down.  The number you have may be my old place.  Here.”
    Fry stuck his head out.  “So the complex has been completely searched?”  he looked and sounded skeptical.
     “Almost and I know that could be a huge qualifier.  We’re going to do the basements again and the roof is still unchecked and we want to sweep the exterior again.  Otherwise, all empty rooms, labs-to the morgue:  They’re clear.”
     “Fry came all the way out.  He put his hands on Suzy’s shoulders.  He smiled and gave Linda a thumbs-up.  “Sounds good to me.  Leela’s right, I do appreciate it.  Despite being skeptical, I appreciate your efforts.”  “Thanks, Linda.”
    “You two have a good night.”  And she smiled and waved.  She really liked the three people in this room, especially Leela, and wished she could spend more time here.
     “NURSE!!!  HELP ME!  PLEASE, ……help me.  Please, help~ ”
     Linda almost jumped.  “How had I forgotten so soon:  Poor, sad…thing.”  She stuck her head in, “Mrs. Sweeney, are you ok?  Do you need a nurse?”
     She could see a little more clearly without the nurse in front of the bed.  There was a shock of Mrs. Sweeney’s white hair coming from under the bottom edge of the blacket which looped open to form a horizontal burka.  It looked like it had come from her mother.  They shared a minute-long exchange of trying to figure out the other person.  She predictably yelled, “Nurse, help me please, I want to die.  Please help me!!”
     Linda had already turned but answered on the way out; she wondered in a split second—‘Am I trying to get the hell out of here?  It’s not that scary!’ “Oh, Mrs. Sweeney, I couldn’t do that.  That, I am sorry to say, is murder; I could go to prison for life.  Besides I don’t have anything on me that would do the job…except maybe an uzi down the hall.”
     “An… Uzi would be good…………………………  PLEASE HELP ME.  PLEASE.
     “I’ll tell a floor nurse.  Good night, Mrs. Sweeney.”  She rolled her eyes leaving to the safety of the empty hallway where she would only encounter a psychopath at the very worst.  There were scarier things.  ‘Just like Gramma and now, Mom!’ and tears welled in her eyes.”  The hallway, beside being empty of the psychopathic Spider, was also devoid of everyone else.  The Otis had gobbled up her team.  Be faster to take the stairs anyway.  One flight down she met Nurse Cratchitt bounding up two and three at a time.  ‘Damn,’ she cursed.  She can do that still?  ‘I can barely do it now!’  
     “Your floor is clear.  We just finished.”
     “Well, that has to be about it, doesn’t it?”
     “Real close; almost there.”  “Oh, Mrs. Sweeney still wants to die.  Wants an uzi!”
      The nurse laughed loudly; it felt good with everything else.  “You know it’s a crying shame she has to commit suicide only on her own accord and power in one of those booths.  I heard Mom rakes in an ungodly amount from that monopoly and spends half of it on lobbyists and senators who keep the laws the way they are.  Hell, if she could walk there and wanted to go out in style, I’m sure we could pass the hat in about fifteen seconds.  An Uzi, huh?  That’s a new one.  I wonder what made her think of an Uzi?”
     “Oh, I was kidding.  I was walking out the door and yelled over my shoulder that my partners had uzis outside which maybe I could borrow.”
     “Oh I wish you would!  Thanks fo…Wait.  You say she couldn’t see you when you said that?”  A look of horror crossed her face and she dropped her armload of nursing files onto the stairs and grabbed Linda’s arm.  “She is stone deaf.  There is no way she could hear you say ‘Uzi’; she only reads lips.”  
     Linda spun and they both charged up the stairs three at a time.  Linda was huffing into her radio, “Seven, he’s on Seven.”  Linda reached the landing ahead of the nurse and she slowed intending to creep into the hall to see if it was empty.  Her caution was made moot by the Nurse’s not slowing and crashing through the double doors into the empty hallway.  ‘Cripes, all I have is a radio.  I told them I should have an Uzi too or at least a shotgun!!’
     The nurse unlocked an unoccupied room being worked on , went in and exited momentarily with two full dimensional oak 2x2 four foot lengths and two pieces of rebar around eighteen inches long and handed Linda’s hers and re-locked the doors.  She gave Linda a large red key engraved ‘Fire’ and said, “Lock both emergency exits at each end of the hall.  When you’re at the end of either, go outside and radio not to use those stairs.  I’m going to lock individual rooms so we don’t have by standing wanderers in the situation and to remove places to hole up in.  Be sure to walk purposefully and scuff your shoes when you pass his door.”
*****
     Nurse Cratchitt was up to Fry’s room, the last room before Spider’s, to complete the circumnavigation of locking the rooms.  It was a long one-step exit down from his seventh floor window with nary a blimp in sight but looking across the fifteen feet of hall looked miles away; ‘Why in the hell didn’t I lock that one first?’  ‘I never used to make these judgment errors, at least so often, crap!  I got to start thinking about retiring; let someone else do it—be the mean bitch; have all the damn answers when you don’t even understand the questions.  A brief thought of leaving Christopher Brown behind brought a lump to her throat.  So, what?  He had his chance, screw him!’  
     Linda was walking back toward Cratchit holding the large key in her hand like she afraid that she would drop it.  She had just started to slow down and tip toe the remaining way.  She had just about reached Mrs. Sweeney’s door when there was a loud metallic clang; she stopped and looked over her shoulder.  Mrs. Cratchitt was watching Linda approaching as she turned the key and started to move across the hall.  She also startled and looked down the hall; there was not anything that would account for it.  She made a little prayer that both of them would be off this floor in less than two minutes...going on one.  She had just resumed her cross-hall trek when she stopped and cursed.  Mrs. Sweeney’s door slowly opened and Spider’s head and shoulder emerged—almost tete a tete with Linda.