Gal You've Never Heard Of Rips Off JBERGES!

[Reply #280 on:]

 

Farnsworth: Easy. The Planet Express Ship was constructed mainly of cheap scrap metal. It was bound to break down sooner or later. Well, technically sooner, not later. But I think you get what I mean.

I really like that line.  Making fun of common phrases should be an international passtime.

Tot-Pod.
------------------
Brevity is the soul of

[Reply #281 on:]

Gorky, can I tell you that you're one of my favorite writers? Seriously, I love your work. Sorry I haven't posted, (Mom grounded me from the computer this weekend). And let me say bravo, keep up this stuff.

[Reply #282 on:]

GORKY SHMORKY!! Please forgive me    . I've been a bad, unresponsive, corpse-like reviewer... I kept meaning to give you feedback, as I read all your updates and giggled giddily at each, but... I was just lazy. I apologize profusely! Sorry sorry!

YOUR JOKES ARE WONDERFUL AS ALWAYS. You seem to be getting Farnsworth down really well. Many of his comments have made me smile biiig. And like others have mentioned, I love how you're playing around with Zoidberg and Bender, as well as bouncing all the characters off of each other. It's really working fantabulously.

Also, a few updates back, the interaction between Fry, Leela, and the Nibblonians was awesome. I read it a while back but I remember being very entertained and pleased. Again, you bounce the characters off of each other really well... not to plug horrendous McDonald's, but I'm lovin' it!!

I know this was a horribly sorry excuse for a review, especially after having been absent from your thread for so long... but hopefully your next update I can pick apart like a wolf will pick apart lotsa smelly carrion! So update SOON.

[Reply #283 on:]

Okay, I've become a compulsive liar or something. See, I know that I said I'd try to update more often, but I've been suffering from writers' block. Which is a really awful excuse for my laziness...er...inability to write as often as I'd like, but I hope you guys can understand. I should have an update soon (albeit, probably a short one), and I hope you'll stick around for it.

Anyway, since I see no other way to make myself useful, I guess I'll respond to you, oh faithful readers.

JBERGES: Loved your last update, man. I swear, that is some of the funniest prose I have ever read. Also, I'm glad you liked the Farnsworth line. I'm not sure if I handled his character well in my last update, but at least I seem to have gotten something right. And, I'm sure that making fun of common phrases would be a national passtime, if making fun of other people wasn't already one of the greatest pleasures of all Americans. (Okay, that made no sense. Maybe being stupid is our national passtime...I mean, just look at our political leaders...) Er, anyway, I hope you enjoy what's to come, and thanks as always for reading.

Spacedal11: One of your favorite writers? You have no idea how much that means to me. (Man, I have to start reading more of your stuff at TLZ...every time I say I'm going to read your fics, I get preoccupied or my "life" gets in the way...which is no excuse, but I hope you'll forgive me.) I'm so glad you're enjoying this (God, I sound like a broken record), and I promise I'll try to read some of your stuff.

say what now: Of course I can forgive you, oh fellow Moon Language speaker-type person (you'll have to check out Layla's thread to see exactly what I mean). I'm just happy that you're still reading...never mind actually reviewing. I mean, reviews are great, but just knowing someone is reading what I write is good enough for me. And besides, you're apparently a lazy reviewer, and I'm apparently a lazy writer, so it all balances out ( ). And speaking of writing, when are you going to start your fic, young lady? I mean, why should I be the only one to disappoint my readers with my laziness? You should start writing, so that you can start being lazy and a disappointment to your readers! (Okay, that was meant to be motivational, but it actually sounds incredibly insensitive...ignore it, if you see fit.) Anyway, I'm glad you liked the characters bouncing off of each other...I really think that that's part of the beauty of Futurama. And, like I said, no reason to be sorry...I forgive you. (Of course, I was never mad at you, so forgiving you was fairly easy, but I think the sentiment is still there...)

This is Gorky Shmorky (God, I love that name, say what now) signing off. I hope I'll have another update soon, and I apologize again for my...um...lack of updating-ness.   

[Reply #284 on:]

Hey Gorky it's oky if you haven't updated in a while I under stand and by the I think your fic was bukuu sweet can't wait for that updat I bet it will worth the wait oh and one more thinhg I have question fore you what kind of music do you like. you know black sabbath or any thing from the 70's or the 80's. later day's

[Reply #285 on:]

*Bumpity-Bump*

Hey, everyone. Happy Fourth of July to all of you here in the U.S., and happy July 4th to all of you...not here in the U.S. (tee, hee, hee...I'm so clever). Anyway, in honor of the blessed occassion when some guys signed this piece of paper, I've got an update for you all. Granted, it's short, and, doubly-granted, it's not for my movie script. It's actually for my prose story, because I've left you hanging on that end for quite a while. I figured I might as well post what I have of it, seeing as how...well, it's the only substantial thing I've accomplished in a while. But, before the mind-numbing action can begin...

jubei: Hey there! I can't remember if you've ever posted in this thread before, but I'm going to pretend that you haven't, because it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside for bringing a new reader into my thread ( ). Anyway, neat, a question! It makes me feel all special and whatnot to be asked a question! (Okay...I'm stopping now.) So, um...lessee...what kind of music do I like? Well, um, pretty much anything from the 70s (Led Zeppelin, an assortment of Skynard songs, what have you). Um, and, also U2 ('cause I said so), and Green Day ('cause, I dunno, I just like 'em). Hope that answers your question. And thanks for reading...hope you like what's to come (God, if I had a dime for every time I said that...)

Um, anyway, because the rest of my prose story is a page or two back, I figured I'd give you this brief description of what's goin' on so far in the story...

Leela was having this big mental debate thing about why she doesn't want a roommate. She went to work, raced Hermes and a turtle, and then was assigned (more or less) a delivery to Pillsburyon 9 to deliver some cookie dough. Fry and Bender were being morons as usual (spoon fights, books with degrading photos of celebrities...the usual), Leela was in a bad mood, and, um, I had this small little passage (still haven't decided if I'm gonna keep it, though) about the origin of Pillsburyon 9.

So, um, I guess that's all you need to know. Enjoy the show...er...story...

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

 “We’re here,” Leela announced upon the crew’s arrival to Pillsburyon 9.

“Oh, great. And who are you?” Fry asked, still engrossed in Bender’s scrapbook (which will henceforth be known as The Happy Smiley Book of Shame).

“Great idea, Fry. It would definitely be best if I just made this delivery myself.” Leela was too tired to even dignify Fry’s ignorance with a sincere response. Besides, sarcasm was too much fun.

“You gotta get you’re ears checked, lady. Fry didn’t say that.” Bender said as he joined Fry in browsing through the Happy Smiley Book of Shame.

“Ha…good one, Bender.” Leela said, completely devoid of enthusiasm. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Leela pivoted, arched her back, and, with a slack-jawed expression on her face, imitated her two “favorite” co-workers.

“Duh…okay, Leela. We’ll just sit here and undoubtedly put both our lives in peril, and then you’ll get to save us dopes…again. Have fun on the fluffy planet. Yuk, yuk, yuk.”

She waited a few seconds for a response from said dopes. When there was none, Leela resumed a more dignified stance and sighed. An acerbic attitude doesn’t do you any good when you’re surrounded by jerks.

“Forget it,” she said as she left for the unloading dock.

“You still here?” Fry asked, a few moments after Leela had left. When he got no answer, he shrugged. “She must’ve gone somewhere.”

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

As she made her way to the dock, Leela thought of the consequences of leaving those two buffoons in the ship all by themselves. What if something bad really did happen? (As is usually the case when you leave Cheech and Chong in the same room together for more than half-a-second.)

Eh, it wasn’t likely. Fry and Bender were far too enamored with that stupid book to be distracted by the shiny (and thus, extremely dangerous) buttons at the helm of the ship, Leela reasoned. She didn’t really understand how seeing people humiliate themselves could be considered entertainment (obviously, she’d never heard of a little thing called “reality TV”), but as long as it kept Fry and Bender off her back, she was fine with it.

When she reached the unloading dock, Leela was greeted by three crates—five tons each—of cookie dough. It was at this point that she realized something.

Fifteen tons is a helluva lot.

This revelation raised the question of how the captain would get the three crates from the ship, to the opening gates of Pillsburyon 9. It also raised the question of why Leela always had to park so damn far away from the opening gates.

Instead of answering the latter—a perfectly reasonable question—Leela focused on the answer to the first query: the one that would get her off the stupid planet faster. It wasn’t that Leela didn’t like making deliveries to far-off worlds…it was that she hated it.

She thought of using the hover dolly, but that would have required loading and unloading three separate crates, which added up to three trips from the ship, to the opening gates, and then back. And besides, as Leela was a bit reluctant to admit, she was only (quasi-)human. I mean, five tons is a pretty heavy load, even with the aid of a hover dolly. Making the trip three times is just asking for it.

So, using the dolly wasn’t on the top of Leela’s list of possibilities. She racked her brain thinking of another option. Asking Fry and Bender was out of the question. They wouldn’t know a delivery if it hit them upside of the head (and Leela had been considering doing just that).

But, it seemed as if there was no way to make the delivery without Leela either breaking her back or breaking the guys’ heads.

Just then, a thought struck the conflicted captain. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a familiar flask.

“It’s worth a shot,” she said to herself as she opened the bottle.

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

Back inside the ship, Fry and Bender were busy laughing at a photo of Morbo in a tutu. Neither of them wondered what had driven the news anchor to don the frilly skirt, nor did they really care. All that mattered was that Morbo—the famous TV personality—was making an idiot out of himself. That’s all that ever really matters.

“This is great stuff,” Fry said, snickering.

“Yeah. Hey, I wonder what Ballerina Boy is doing right now…” Bender pondered.

After sharing a hearty laugh with Bender at Morbo’s expense, Fry turned the page.

“Hey, the rest of the pages disappeared!” Fry exclaimed upon discovering that Morbo’s snapshot was the last in the book.

“Stop being stupid,” Bender retorted, knowing how hard it would be for Fry to satisfy that request. “That was the last page.”

“Oh…that makes more sense.”

Fry handed the Happy Smiley Book of Shame back to Bender, who then returned the book to its rightful place in his chest compartment.

“So, what’re we gonna do now?” Fry asked.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Bender stated excitedly. The robot materialized two beers, as Fry eagerly looked on.

“Come to Pop…” Fry’s hopes were dashed as Bender quickly emptied both bottles before his buddy’s eyes. “…pa,” the delivery boy finished.

“Oh, sorry,” Bender apologized. “Here you go.” He handed Fry a beer.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Bender assured his pal as he pulled out a bottle of wine and started a’chuggin’.

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

So, yeah, it's not doing much for the plot, but I swear I'm building up to something.

[Reply #286 on:]

Hey Gorky thank's for answering my question you want to know what I listen to that is easy. Here is what I listen to Black Sabbath Aerosmith  rush and metallica and iron maiden scorpions twisted sister. today's update was bukuu sweet by the way I don't know if you read my fic or not but if you want to read it you can find it on futurama madhouse and tell me what you think. by postin in my thread so if you hate it or love it that is fine also if you have any idea's for chapter's 8-20 and for the sequel that would be nice like I said while ago you can post them or send them to me by e-mail which is in my profile.later day's

[Reply #287 on:]

 

Originally posted by Gorky:
Spacedal11: One of your favorite writers? You have no idea how much that means to me. (Man, I have to start reading more of your stuff at TLZ...every time I say I'm going to read your fics, I get preoccupied or my "life" gets in the way...which is no excuse, but I hope you'll forgive me.) I'm so glad you're enjoying this (God, I sound like a broken record), and I promise I'll try to read some of your stuff.

I can help you with that you psychotic little broken record you. The Way that it is

This is apparently very good. And more surprisingly it's something I've written. Wow! It's a double whammy.

Anyway, keep updating and please don't let any interferences get in your way of reading this fic. Cause my last two have sucked. Enjoy.

[Reply #288 on:]

What? I'm actually posting this uber late review? Surely, you jest!

Ah, Gorky, what can I say? You're just so very entertaining! I really enjoy the personality that comes through in your writing, probably because I enjoy your personality. I guess that makes sense.

So, let's take a little trip back in time (doodily doodily doodily)

Part in which you coin the term "butt whoopings":

Spoon fight: Hahahahahaha! I love the character interaction here. It's light and fun and true to the show. I can really picture the characters saying and doing the things they do, with the possible exception of Leela beating Fry and Bender into unconsciousness. Sure, she's violent, and they can be really annoying, but... it seems a little dark to me. (Yes, I do realize the irony of me saying that.  )

Still, it's all in fun and leads to this:

 

That meant that, despite the fact that they were bruised and bumped and beaten-ed, Fry and Bender were still actually alive. It was a cold, hard fact that Leela had to deal with.

Sweet Gorkian laugh inducing writing!

 

Needless to say, upon impact, Fry and Bender burst into pieces (Fry metaphorically, Bender literally).

So funny!

Humpty Dumpty the porn star! (Oh help me, I can visualize a seductive dance... an anthropomorphic egg doing a sexy dance! ARgh!) (By that rambling, I mean I laughed til tears rolled down my face.)

"Chumps I know" may be the best book title ever.

I also loved the crack at Betty White and Florence Henderson.

All in all, hilarious fun mixed with a bit of sympathy for Leela's frustration.

Pillsburyon 9: How can I say this without making you sad...

IT's just that, I have this incredible weakness for mangled faux-historical tales that are funny, meaning that I love you so very very very much for writing this. Yay yay yay yippee yippee whee doodle!

(Cuddles Gorky)

Hotcakes like hotcakes! Bwahahaha! D.C. Bisc-burnings! Jimmy Hoffa! Assorted muskrat parts! (I hearby nominate 'assorted' as the funniest adjective when used in conjunction with muskrat parts)

Poptarts: The whole scene with the pop tarts conversation is so much random crazyness. The best kind, in my opinion!
You have this knack for drawing out jokes to the point that they reach levels of hilarity that are in fact illegal in Canada (unless you're in the Parliment buildings).

 

Leela: I want to hear some version of the truth.

Have I said I loved you yet? Darn... I don't want to repeat myself. Je t'adore! 

Yeah, that'll work. Brilliant joke, Gorky and so in tune with all my writerish fears.

I liked the cow-head catch phrase and the bowling pin fall and lemurs, naturally.

Return of the movie fic:
Strange and interesting idea of opening from Zoidberg's POV. Obligatory cruel stab at Zoidy, awesome! (I like the possibly unintentional quote there.)

Loved the description of the squirrel. The exhaust pipe sounds indescribably filthy to me too.

Nice image of Bender walking off with captured (and squished) Zoidberg.

The Professor's confusion is fantastic, and I love his response when Amy corrects him.
Actually, he's great throughout this part.
 

Farnsworth: What? I may be senile, but I’m still a genius, dammit!

Good character observation and a great joke! I really love when writer's establish that the Professor's not stupid, just old!

The gavel: Let me just say that if anyone should have a gavel, it would be Hermes (though I bet Bender would love one too).

It's always fun to hear about PE's financial woes, and you breathe new life into familiar jokes.

The mythical Fry and world peace. 
Loved Bender's belligerance and his shiny metal fist.

 

Bender: (whispering) You ever notice how he always starts making sense just when things are getting out of control?

Amy: (whispering) Yeah. It’s really convenient.

Awesome! Keep poking at that fourth wall, Gorky!

"Where are Fry and Leela:"
 

Has anyone seen dem since den?

I don't know if it was intentional or not, but Hermes accent makes this line amusing, if you're me.

Liked the Professor's neck spasm.
 

Farnsworth: I have no idea what I’m saying.

Truer words were never spoken.

I'd quote all the Farnsie lines I liked in this part, but I'd end up quoting them all. Just know that he's wonderful, and so are you!

Random pickaxes, like everything else random, are Gorkyesque fun.

I loved the temptation of Hermes with forms. Shipper that I am, I loved cute adorable Bender hating himself for being cute and adorable.

Great joke with Amy not blinking over Bender stealing tons of money but getting upset when she finds out he chopped her picture.

 

(We can see Zoidberg give chase, and Bender follows.)

One thing I don't get, what's Zoidberg giving chase to? The Professor? Isn't Bender the one giving chase? I'm missing something here.

I'll tell you what I think of your latest update when I find the energy to read it. Now I'm gonna go to the tattoo and wish I was going to bed. Yay! Anyway, loved it as always Gorky. It's nice to have a place to go when I need a laugh!

Thanks sweetie!

[Reply #289 on:]

Individual responses coming later (as are complete sentences). Just know that you're all great for continuing to read this, even though there are still a lot of things I need to work out in the story. Layla, that was one review. I felt kind of bad leaving you with yet another update when you're so busy, but I figured you'd forgive me ( ).

Anyway, as you'll probably be able to guess upon reading the first sentence of this next update, this is for my prose story-type...thing. Now, I realize that my Leela writing is a bit, shall we say, all over the place, but I hope that she's not too out of character. If she is, feel free to tell me. It's the best way I'll learn, it is.

So, um...here ya go. Enjoy.

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

There were very few things in life that baffled Leela. One of those things was daytime television. She couldn’t figure out how people could keep coming up with such god-awful soap operas and talk shows. Hell, even The View had grown stale after a salary conflict between Barbara Walters’s head and the show’s producers had forced her to quit. And, as for Jerry Springer-o-tron…well, let’s just say that, if Leela wanted to see a bunch of screw-ups throw things at each other, she could just look at her co-workers. And don’t even get me started on “All My Circuits”…

Anyway, the other thing that perplexed the captain was this “Miracle Displacement Liquid”. She wasn’t confused by how it worked, exactly. To tell the truth, she didn’t really care. The thing that bewildered Leela was why she had bought such a novelty to begin with. I mean, we all know that Leela’s not really all that impulsive. And buying something as seemingly useless as “Miracle Displacement Liquid” is pretty impulsive, if I do say so myself (which, apparently, I do).

There were only two possible explanations for Leela’s purchase. The first theory involved Leela and a subconscious desire to own something with the initials MDL, which (along with “Miracle Displacement Liquid”) could stand for “Moon Dance Lady”. The significance of the Moon Dance Lady had not yet been determined.

The second theory involved a monkey.

Leela put all of her faith into Theory #1. No way was she stupid enough to believe in any philosophy involving a monkey.

Of course, none of this really mattered. The only thing that really mattered was that the liquid was capable of transporting Leela and the 15-ton shipment of cookie dough to the opening gates of Pillsburyon 9. (So, why didn’t I just start this part of the story there? ‘Cause I didn’t feel like it, that’s why.)

Anyway, once at the opening gates, Leela was greeted by a big fluffy guy guarding the entrance to the planet.

“Can I help you?” the big fluffy guy (who, for the sake of convenience, we’ll call Ted) asked Leela.

“Yes,” Leela started. She hated this part of the job. I mean, why would you be approaching someone with three heavy crates by your side unless you needed help? Wasn’t that the purpose of all the Teds of the universe—to assist people like Leela?

Regardless of the universe and its unrivaled idiocy, Leela went into her whole big delivery spiel. “I’m Captain Turanga Leela, of the Planet Express Delivery Service. I was instructed to deliver these 15 tons of cookie dough to your planet.”

She pointed to the three boxes next to her. Ted nodded.

“Hmmm…I see,” Ted began. “Before I take this shipment off your hands, there’s one more thing I’ll have to ask you to do.”

“What would that be?” Before the words had even left her mouth, Leela regretted asking.

“Would you please poke me in the tummy?”

“What? Why?”

“Well, see, I make adorable noises whenever anyone touches my stomach. It’s just what we Pillsburyons do.” Ted stated this fact without realizing how insanely…well…insane it sounded.

“Oh for the love of God,” Leela muttered before complying with Ted’s wishes.

As promised, Ted chuckled giddily when Leela poked him.

“Thank you,” he said, after he recomposed himself.

“No problem,” Leela assured him, almost convincingly.

An awkward moment of silence passed between the two of them. I mean, what exactly is the proper decorum to follow after one has jabbed a complete stranger in the stomach?

Leela decided to speak up. “So, um, shouldn’t you be taking these crates inside the gates now?”

Ted looked to the boxes and groaned. Their presence irritated him.

“Hey, Lady, do you mind if I ask you somethin’?”

“Go ahead,” Leela insisted. Anything beat having to touch his “tummy” again.

“Um, yeah, how exactly did you get all three of those boxes all the way over here without, uh…terribly injuring yourself? See, my head was turned, so I didn’t notice how you actually delivered the, y’know, delivery.”

Leela’s first thought was, Hmmm…his head was turned, huh? How convenient. Her second thought was much more relevant. Leela contemplated the bottle in her pocket. She turned to Ted. Spending any more time near him wasn’t necessarily something she looked forward to doing.

She shrugged as she handed him the bottle. “Have fun” were her parting words.

As Leela walked away, she realized that, since she no longer had the “Miracle Displacement Liquid” to her name, she would have to walk all the way back to the ship. Of course, she had done a nice thing for someone else, and that was it’s own reward. I mean, generosity builds character, right?

Leela pondered this for a minute, before coming to the conclusion that, in fact, generosity sucked

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

Hope that wasn't too bad...

Thanks, as always, guys.

[Reply #290 on:]

Ahahahaha.  Always have me laughing Gork. Good part as always.

 

The second theory involved a monkey.

There's always a monkey. And I mean always. There are somethings that you automatically know when you're born, like

-Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father
-In The Exorcist, the barf is pea soup
and
-In every theory, there is a monkey. Somewhere it might not be directly but somewhere there's that damn monkey.

 

(So, why didn’t I just start this part of the story there? ‘Cause I didn’t feel like it, that’s why.)

Hey, you're the author you can do whatever you want whenever you want. You know what I just realized, and don't call me stupid but, Pillsburyon 9. Pillsbury I finally got that. I thought you were just creative. But no it's a brand name. He he. 

 

An awkward moment of silence passed between the two of them. I mean, what exactly is the proper decorum to follow after one has jabbed a complete stranger in the stomach?

Great. I bow to your greatness cause that was so fucking great. Loved that.

That part was silly I'll admit but it was worth reading. So keep going, I want to keep laughing. 

[Reply #291 on:]

That was hysterical. I laughed out loud all the way through it.

[Reply #292 on:]

"The second theory involved a monkey."

Best paragraph ever. Sometimes it's much funnier to be succinct. 

As for the silliness factor... well... have you been feeling alright recently?  This is way out there.

[Reply #293 on:]

Okay, here's the deal. I'm working on the next update, but I'm not exactly sure when it'll be here. I hate the fact that I post smaller updates whenever I feel like it, as opposed to posting larger updates on a regular basis. I think that's probably the best way to go, both for you guys and for myself.

But, unfortunately, I don't see that happening in the near future. Just know that I'm trying, though.

Anyway, responses for all (I feel like Santy Claus)!

jubei: I'm glad to see that you're enjoying the fic. Also, on the whole music front, I totally forgot about Aerosmith! I'm so ashamed (  ). Er, anyway, I haven't read your fic (sorry 'bout that), but, if it's any consolation, I've been getting around to reading the fics that I've missed, and I should be getting to yours sometime in the future. So, I guess I can't really help you with any ideas. And besides, I'm sure you could come up with something great on your own. It's more rewarding that way (or so I'm told   ).

Spacedal (uh...the first time): As you already know, I've read the fic, and enjoyed it. So, uh, yeah. That's it, I guess. You should keep up the good work, my friend.

Layla: Whoa...that is some review. I'm totally and completely humbled by the fact that you felt the need to review my story (and how!)--you're so awesome. (I guess that means I enjoy your personality, too.)

As far as the whole "Leela-beatin'-the-guys" thing, I know, I think I've taken it too far. I'm planning on shedding some light on it soon enough. (This was originally conceived as a shippy story, after all, and maybe a sort of shippy explanation is in order, eh?) (Dun-dun-DUN!)

Also I added the metaphorically in there for
you, dammit!

I'm also glad you liked Humpty Dumpty's story, especially since it seemed, I dunno, a bit too...weird. Which it is, but at least I got a laugh or two out of it, right?

And, as for the Pillsburyon story, like I said about a page back, it was just this little thing I wrote for lack of any substantial update for you all. I guess I'll have to consider keeping it in the story, then.

Of course, I'm also happy to see you enjoyed the movie fic, especially since it's probably the hardest story I've (half-)written yet. And, regarding the whole, "Who's giving chase?" thing, that was my bad. Bender was chasing Zoidy, and that's it. Thanks for pointing that out--it's been edited (at least on the draft on my computer, I think).

And, here's some love for you, Layla...    (yeah, that's the ticket).

Also, I apologize for bombarding you with TWO updates...please don't feel obligated to review 'em. I know how busy you've been, and it amazes me that you can still manage to, y'know, function.

Spacedal (again): I'm glad you've decided to stick around and read my stuff. And the whole Pillsbury thing is okay; doesn't make you stupid. (Reading my stuff in the first place does, but that's a whole other story.   ) Anyway, I'll try to keep you laughing. If all else fails, I'll send you a picture of my face. Funny as hell, I swear.

Venus: I'm glad to see you back in the thread. I gotta tell you, I'm loving your story. I'll keep writing my crazy stuff, if you promise to keep writing the Wonderful-Angsty-Story-of-...uh-Angst. Thanks for everything, as always.

So, I guess that's it. Oh wait, I've just realized that tomorrow will mark this thread's one-year anniversary...thingy. Now, I have something special planned for you all for tomorrow (not an update, though...sorry), so there may be a double-post in the works. (Bwaa, haa, haa!)

You excited? (If you're not, could you at least pretend to be? It'd really help me out   ...)

EDIT: Bergey, you replied as I was writin' this, I guess. So, here's your reply...

That paragraph was the thing that came most naturally to me as I was writing this last update. That should be proof enough that I'm too weird for my own good. But hey, so long as I keep you guys reading, I guess I'm doin' an okay job. Thanks for putting up with encouraging me (I assume the other PEELers will now want your head, my good chum).

[Reply #294 on:]

Greatting's Gorky I was just askimg to see if any one had any idea's to contribute to help keep the story alive and to keep me from killing of my on story. can't wait for that next update your's truley jubei.

[Reply #295 on:]

 

Originally posted by Gorky:

Spacedal (again): I'm glad you've decided to stick around and read my stuff. And the whole Pillsbury thing is okay; doesn't make you stupid. (Reading my stuff in the first place does, but that's a whole other story.    ) Anyway, I'll try to keep you laughing. If all else fails, I'll send you a picture of my face. Funny as hell, I swear.

Just hearing you talk about your face made me laugh. I must have a tumor. And I don't think you'll never not make me happy. Cause you are a fan fic writing genius.

[Reply #296 on:]

Is it? It is! It's July 18, 2005, which means that, a year ago today, I started this thread!

*Cue inspirational music*

Er, never mind.

*Forget inspirational music*

Anyway, like I said, I've got this surprise for all of you. So, uh, here it is...

It's been a year, oh faithful readers
Can you believe it's true?
None of you have dropped dead yet
So I guess you cannot sue!

But, seriously, folks
I've got something to say
On this, (I'll admit it)
Totally meaningless day.

First, I'd like to thank you all
For sticking around for so long
Even though you'd all like my head
On one of them sticks that hits the gong.

All violence aside,
I'm getting to the point
I want to pay tribute to all
Who've hung out at this joint.

First, here's a word
To  those who left long ago
I really can't blame you
You're the smartest ones, you know.

But, to those of you
Who like to take chances
Who post in this thread
Seeking Top-of-the-Page-Dances:

You're all so great
I think you rock
Reading the work
Of a girl on electro-shock.

To you, Mr. Bergey,
I've got this to say
You're the funniest guy
In the U.S. of A.

And Venus, my friend
You're such a great writer
If this were a concert
I'd be lighting my lighter.

Nerd-o-rama
He posts here sometimes
If he lived on a street corner
I'd offer him some dimes.

As for say what now
She spouts this Moon-talk
That girl's just so funny
She sure rocks my socks.

Spacedal, she's my twin
(That's what she said)
She's cool enough to accept
That we've both been hit on the head.

Tongue Luck's gone missing
But she's still awesome as ever
She wrote this cool fanfic
Such a fruitful endeavor.

And as for jubei
The newest of the group
He's such a nice guy
Um...and he prob'ly likes soup.

And Layla, old friend
You're just so dang sweet
And that story of yours
Is just so dang neat.

Speaking of you, Layla
I've gotta confess
The idea for this poem
Came from...you guessed.

All those poems you've written
During your stay at PEEL
I was really just homaging
I didn't mean to steal.

So, even though I admit
That your idea I borried
Remember that love means
Never having to say you're sorry.

And, have I said I love you all?
A great love, it really is something
So, as such, I've gotta say
I apologize for nothing.

Interesting, eh? What? It's not? Well, uh, here's something very interesting...

Clickity

And if that doesn't help you to remember this day for the rest of your life, then nothing will.

Seriously, though, thanks for everything, oh faithful readers. This thread wouldn't be eight pages long this great without you.

[Reply #297 on:]

A nice try fair Gorky, but learn much you must
To make your poems dorky, and further robust.
Try inner rhymes sometimes, and alliteration
To pepper your preaching post’s pronunciation.
Now look at the tomes, to the way those posts lie;
Who’s written more poems, was it Layla or I?
   
-----

Just kidding, of course          

Congrats on your fantabulous threadiversary, Gorky.  And thanks for the consistent flattery I receive by the fact that you've named your thread after mine.  Keep that crazy stuff coming, oh lady of mystery.

[Reply #298 on:]

Happy threadiversery to you,
"       "             "  ",
"         "         dear Gorky,
"           "         to you!

Yes, I'm lazy! And don't you mind JBERGES, he's just jealous of our natural feminine rapport.
(He does write more poems though... but I've still typed more words than script-boy!)

The picture lady scared me, but the poem caused happy dancing joy that can only be expressed in...

(dramatic pause)

Moon language!

A:SDlfADHGQOWEKDDLKDSSSSLSDJFA :DFAS:JWELA!!!!! HWEEdkaDSFKG!!! WADZOKIDDIDLE!

Whoo, that is fun! Barring any slight mispronounciations that gravely insulted the moon people who have already sent a horrid death fleet after me, that should say: Neat! (takes picture)

It's a blast, you're a great, fun writer and you're improving by leaps and bounds from an already great start! (Threadiversity huggles)

And now for the traditional Canadian blessing:
May your driveway not look like this more that ten months out of the year.

[Reply #299 on:]

 

Originally posted by Gorky:
Spacedal, she's my twin
(That's what she said)
She's cool enough to accept
That we've both been hit on the head.

  I want a hug sister! And trust me I've been hit in the head far from once. Congrats on your big day. I'm glad that I was cool enough to be in your poem. That was so cute to read. I'm very happy for you Gorky. Keep on writing and I'll see you at the next family reunion   .

BTW: You seriously NEED to get Aol Instant Messaging! I have wanted to talk to you through instent message for so long but dammit! You have no screenname for it. Poo,  .

[Reply #300 on:]

Okay, okay...it's taken me several hours, but I've finally read through this entire thread (the script-formatted fics, anyway).  I am very impressed with what I have seen, and I finally realize why you were nominated for the PEELie Award in '04, Gorky.  With snappy dialog, interesting stories, and solid characters, these stories are a triple-threat (and maybe even a triple-treat...like eating brownie-flavored ice cream while watching "Law and Order" reruns).

Off the top of my head, the only finished fic that I remember reading is the Eve-il Leela one.  It was a good story.  I like how you set everything up so, looking back, the reader could see that Eve was making preparations for a usurpation.  It was like Kevin Spacey looking at the bulletin board in The Usual Suspects (I don't care what anyone else says, I didn't realize he was Keyser Soze).  The exchange containing Eve saying "Call me Leela," literally had me laughing out loud.  Even now as I think about it, I'm laughing.

If I could have made one suggestion (and I realize it's over nine months late at this point) it would be to start the story in such a way that it would arc back to the point where Eve forces Leela to see how much she has in life, a la It's a Wonderful Life...with lasers, robots, and psychotic, identity thieves.  While your story was great, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was another dimension that wasn't being shown.  That and the ending seemed a little rushed and logically unsound (that may be because of whatever mental affliction was afflicting Eve).

I'm looking  forward to the completion of the other stories...if I can figure out which one is which.

[Reply #301 on:]

Oh yeah! I've read that one. Personally the best quote in that was where Bender slaps Hermes yelling, "That's for pointing out the obvious plot holes!". I laughed and laughed, then cried, then laughed again, and then stopped.

[Reply #302 on:]

I loves me my Gorky!

[Reply #303 on:]

First off, thanks everyone! I'm just glad you all hang around and read my junk and...stuff.

Second off, I'm gonna be gone for about three days starting Sunday, and so I wanted to leave you guys with another update. I'm not sure if it'll be here in two days, but I'm trying. Just a heads up, I guess.

And now, because you were all so kind to reply to me, I shall reply to you...

JBERGES: For you, a poem...

Damn you and your poetic prowess
(Nah, you're alright, but I digress.)
I apologize for your being neglected
Your self-esteem, I'm sure I wrecked it.
But keep in mind that I'm not the brightest
My "lucent" lightbulb is not the lightest.
Although it is true that that's no excuse
To compensate, please take this Juicy-Juice:



Thanks for everything, Bergey.

Layla: Yay, I love singing! And, here's some moon language for you...

IDASDNFIidfnuiaJHEIDNFIDFDIGH

It's fun because it makes no sense!

Anyway, thanks for taking time out of your incredibly busy schedule to read what I have to say...er...write. Here's your traditional American blessing:



He's bent over! Now's your chance to kick him! Yeah, kick him hard! (I swear, it's every American's dream.)

Also, is it weird that really I like snow? It's weird, isn't it?

Spacedal: I don't actually have a sister, which makes me sad.    <-See? But, now I have a fake sister, which is just as cool as it is pathetic. So in that case, it's extremely cool. Hooray for us!

Oh yeah, and, about the whole AIM thing. See, I've had it before, but my computer/internet just sucks, and AIM always seems to just add to that aggrivation. Now, while it would be awesome to talk to you on AIM, I'm afraid that dowloading it would kill poor Antonio (that's my computer). I'm really sorry.   

*Sigh* We'll always have PEEL...

Dr. T: Hey, a new reader! That's always cool. I'm glad you're liking what you see, at least for the most part.

As for your suggestion, I can see what you mean. That whole dimension never even occured to me--it would have been a great addition to the story. And I'll concede that it was a rather abrupt ending. If I recall correctly, I had gotten in way over my head when it came to ending the story, that I just decided that an epilogue (Layla's suggestion, I believe) would be the best way to wrap everything up without writing another five or six pages of dialogue and such. And, since the script was already about thirty-odd pages long, I didn't want to bore my audience to tears. Still, you make another good point.

And, yeah, my mind's all over the place. I hate the fact that I'm sporadically posting three seperate fics in the same thread, at the same time. It's confusing, isn't it? For your sake, I'll get around to posting what I have so far of my script stories (I assume you can find the prose story on your own--you're a smart fella   ) sometime in the near future. In fact, if I don't have a prose-story update on Sunday, I'll leave you with my other two script stories in their (in)completion. That should help you catch up.

P.S.: I read part of your fic. Once I overcome my Extreme Laziness (patent pending), I'll comment on it over in your thread. So far, I likes what I've seens.

Spacedal (again): Hey, glad you liked "Single, Uptight Female" (number 27 on our list of corny titles). I enjoy making people cry laugh.

say what now: I loves me...you! 'Nuff said (seeing as how that was confusing enough as it is).

So, look out for either 1.) a new prose story update, or 2.) my two incomplete script-formatted fics (in other words, stuff you've read already), posted to help Dr. T get de-confuse-ified. Either way, I'll be posting something come Sunday morning.                 

[Reply #304 on:]

 

Originally posted by Gorky:
Spacedal: I don't actually have a sister, which makes me sad.    <-See? But, now I have a fake sister, which is just as cool as it is pathetic. So in that case, it's extremely cool. Hooray for us!

Oh yeah, and, about the whole AIM thing. See, I've had it before, but my computer/internet just sucks, and AIM always seems to just add to that aggrivation. Now, while it would be awesome to talk to you on AIM, I'm afraid that dowloading it would kill poor Antonio (that's my computer). I'm really sorry.   

*Sigh* We'll always have PEEL...

Spacedal (again): Hey, glad you liked "Single, Uptight Female" (number 27 on our list of corny titles). I enjoy making people cry laugh.

Aw.  <-(I'm sad too). Well we also have email. I email a lot of people too. And I liked SUF too. That was a great story. I liked it a little more then The Dating Game. But I still love your wackiness. If anyone has a right to be weird, tis you.   

[Reply #305 on:]

Eh, it's almost Sunday, I guess...

Anyway, Spacedal, I guess we'll have to be sad together. And weird. Right on!

So, anyway, Dr. T has sort of opened up my eyes to the fact that this thread is getting really confusing, what with my writing three different stories at the same time. So, here's the deal: I'm only going to focus on one story, finish it (hey, other writers do it--why can't I?), and then go on to another story. And, because I'm so mature, I've randomly selected my prose story as the story I'm going to work on exclusively. (Actually, the real reason for this decision is that I'm much more invested in that story, and writing it has been coming a lot easier to me lately. But that just didn't have the same edge to it as pullin' something out of a hat at random. You know what I mean?)

But, as promised, I'm going to post both my Fry-for-mayor and movie scripts right here, right now, for Dr. T to read. That way, he'll be all caught up. Why don't the rest of you read it too? Boredom is one of the more pleasant ways to die, or so I'm told.

First, here's the Fry-for-mayor fic...

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

Opening Caption: Futurama: Insulting your lack of intelligence since 1999.


(We open on a shot of the Planet Express Building, morning. Cut inside the building to the lounge. Fry, Leela, and Bender are sitting on the couch, watching the morning news with Linda and Morbo.)

(We cut to the TV screen. Morbo is wrapping up another one of his “charming” speeches.)

Morbo: And that is why Morbo isn’t allowed to volunteer at the S.P.C.A. anymore. Thank you.

(Linda laughs her usual laugh. When she is done, a graphic over her head appears. It reads “Mayoral Race 3005”.)

Linda: Well, today is January 2. And we all know what that means.

Morbo: Only three more days until Morbo’s sentencing?

Linda: No, silly! It means that there are only 10 more months until New New Yorkers elect our next mayor. And, because this is a news station dedicated to informing but mostly annoying the public, we will begin our coverage of the election right now. We have with us the incumbent mayoral candidate, Mayor Poopenmeyer.

(Cut back to Fry, Leela, and Bender.)

Fry: (snickering) Poopenmeyer…

(Cut back to the TV screen. Linda and Morbo are facing the mayor, seated to the right of Linda.)

Linda: Mr. Mayor, this year you are running for an unprecedented 15th term as mayor. What do you have to say to those who think you should throw in the towel?

Poopenmeyer: Well, Linda, let me ask you this. Did Richard Nixon throw in the towel? Did Al Gore throw in the towel? Did Ross Perot throw in the towel?

Morbo: Actually, they did. But Morbo understands your point.

(Linda giggles stupidly, as we cut back to Fry, Leela, and Bender. Just as we do, Hermes walks into the room and stands beside the couch.)

Hermes: What are you three loonies doing?

Fry: We were watching TV, until you walked right in front of it.

Hermes: I’m over here, mon! (Hermes waves)

Fry: Well now you tell me.

Bender: What do you want, guy who isn’t Bender and thus is a waste of my time?

Hermes: You three got a special delivery to make to the Mayor’s office. It’s a bunch of stuff he needs for his reelection campaign.

Leela: Why does an interplanetary delivery service need to make a delivery to a place that’s five blocks away?

Hermes: Beats me…but dat’s what dis form says. (He holds up a form attached to a clipboard) And you know I gotta listen to da form.

Leela: Good point. (She turns to Fry and Bender) Okay, you guys, let’s go.

Fry: Do we have to?

Bender: Nah. Nag-arella can do it herself.

(Leela narrows her eye, then turns to Hermes.)

Leela: May I?

Hermes: Go ahead.

(Hermes hands Leela his clipboard, which she uses to whack both Fry and Bender over the head with. Satisfied with herself, Leela hands the clipboard back to Hermes.)

Leela: Thanks.

(Cut to the Mayor’s office. Fry, Leela, and Bender walk into the building, wheeling in a large crate. They stop at a desk, where a woman, the Mayor’s secretary, is seated.)

Secretary: How may I help you?

Leela: We’re from the Planet Express Delivery service, and we have a package for Mayor Poopenmeyer.

Secretary: He’s in his office. Go right in.

Fry: Wait…he’s in his office? But he was just on TV a few seconds ago.

Bender: Isn’t it obvious that there’s been a lapse in time?

Fry: A where in the what-now?

(Annoyed, Bender turns to Leela.)

Bender: May I?

Leela: Go ahead.

(Bender opens up his chest compartment and takes out a plastic leg, which he uses to whack Fry over the head with. He smirks, then puts the leg back in his chest.)

Bender: Thanks.

(Cut to the office. The three crewmembers wheel the crate in, but find that the mayor is not there.)

Leela: Hello? Mr. Mayor? Are you in here, sir?

(No one answers. Leela sighs.)

Leela: He’s not in here. I guess we’ll just have to wait in here for him until he comes back.

Bender: Like hell we will! I have lots of important stuff to do today!

Leela: Like what?

Bender: Getting hammered and stuff.

Leela: How many times have I told you, Bender? No getting hammered until after we make our deliveries!

Fry: You’ve never said that.

Leela: (annoyed) Who are you, the continuity police?

Fry: No. But I am the town sheriff.

(Fry pulls out a small plastic badge that says “Sheriff”, a novelty that he probably got out of a cereal box.)

Leela: Whatever. Look, we’re waiting for the mayor whether you two like it or not. So just sit down and don’t touch anything.

(Leela sits down in a chair near the office door. Bender rolls his eyes.)

Bender: Fine. If you won’t let me get drunk in the privacy of some hobo-infested bar, I’ll get drunk in the Mayor’s office!

Fry: It wouldn’t be the first time…

Bender: Damn straight!

(Bender takes the seat next to Leela. He pulls out a six pack from his chest compartment and starts a- chuggin’. Leela turns away in a combination of disgust and embarrassment.)

Leela: Dear Lord…(her eye wanders, and she catches a glimpse of something) Fry, what are you doing?!

(Pull out to reveal that Fry is sitting at the Mayor’s desk. He picks up a cigar and a lighter from the desk. He puts the cigar in his mouth and lights it.)

Fry: I always wanted to be a mayor…to have mutant kitten armies at my disposal.

Leela: Okay, first of all, there’s no such thing as mutant kitten armies. Second of all, get away from the Mayor’s desk!

Fry: Oh, c’mon, Leela! Lighten up!

Leela: Lighten up? Fine.

(She slouches in her chair and drops her eyelid halfway. She mimes someone smoking a cigarette.)

Leela: (mimicking some kind of smart-talking street…person) Like, dude, you gotta, like, get away from the commie-lovin’ Mayor’s desk before the tightwad comes back. Get me?

Bender: Yeah, like anyone’s gonna be intimidated by that.

Leela: Shut-up!

Fry: Please just let me sit here, Leela. I’ll be good.

Leela: (sighs) Fine. Just…don’t touch anything, okay?

Fry: Okay, I won’t touch anything. (His eye wanders) Ooo, forms! (He picks the forms up)

Bender: What is with you air-breathing, non-mechanical organisms and forms, already!

Leela: That’s it!

(Leela gets up and walks over to the Mayor’s desk.)

Fry: What?

Leela: Give me those forms!

Fry: No! If I can’t touch anything, why should you be able to?

Leela: But you already are touching the forms, so by rights, I should be able to touch them, too!

Fry: Okay, you lost me.

Leela: Not too hard to do, Fry.

(She grabs the forms out of his hands. He takes them back.)

Fry: Oh c’mon, Leela, they’re just some stupid papers. See?

(He holds the papers up, then reads them, one at a time.)

Fry: (reading) “Oil-Spilling Policies—Fifth Edition”…who cares! (He throws that form off to the side, then reads the next one) “Animal Rights, Shmanimal Rights”…whoop-de-doo! (He throws that form off to the side, then reads the last one) “Mutant Sedition Acts”…whatever!

Leela: “Mutant Sedition Acts”? Fry, give me those papers.

Fry: What’re the magic words?

Leela: Oh, sorry. Fry, give me those papers or I’ll be forced to throw pointy objects at you in a haphazard fashion.

Fry: (nervously) Heh, heh…that’s right, Mr. Leela, sir.

(He hands the papers to Leela. She reads over them aloud.)

Leela: (reading) “Any mutant who attempts to rebel against the surface-dwellers or who disagrees with the government’s policies will be fined, jailed, and, if need be…” (she gulps) “executed.” Oh my God…

Fry: Oh her God.

(Leela reads through the other two papers.)

Leela: What do these other two say? (reading) “From here on out, all animals will be forced to conform with our customs…i.e., wearing pants…or suffer the consequences.” This is insane.

Fry: Oh her God.

Leela: This is the last one…(reading) “The Mayor will now only allow oil-spilling if his bribes are in the form of small bills.” I can’t believe this.

Fry: Oh her God.

Leela: What are you, a broken MP3?

Fry: A what?

Leela: Forget it…

(Just then, we can hear the sound of Mayor Poopenmeyer’s from the other side of the door.)

Poopenmeyer (o.s.): Of course you’re right…it’s a common mistake! Anyone could’ve misspelled it! Don’t beat yourself up! Okay. Bye.

(Fry and Leela throw the forms back on the desk nervously and rush over to the two empty chairs by Bender. They sit down just as the Mayor walks in. He’s wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and a sweatband. He’s carrying a racquet.)

Poopenmeyer: (Laughs) Ah…nothing like a nice game of Racquetball with Dan Quayle’s Head…

(Leela coughs to try and attract the Mayor’s attention. She catches him off-guard.)

Poopenmeyer: (frightened) Ah! A ghost!

Leela: (under her breath) Moron…

Poopenmeyer: Who are you calling a moron, Mr. Ghost…sir?

Leela: Um…Mayor Poopenmeyer? Would you look behind you for a sec?

Poopenmeyer: Okay.

(He turns around and sees the three crewmembers.)

Poopenmeyer: Oh, you’re not ghosts…just a bunch of freaks.

Bender: Who’re you calling freaks?

Fry: He’s calling us freaks. Don’t you pay attention? (Beat; then, defensively) Hey! We are not freaks!

Leela: (hiding her anger) Look, Mr. Mayor, we’re from Planet Express Delivery service. We have some things here that you need to sign for.

Poopenmeyer: Oh goody! I love signing things!

Leela: (forced laughter) Great. Just sign here.

(She holds out a piece of paper, and the Mayor signs it. Then, he walks over to his desk and sits down.)

Poopenmeyer: Thanks. What’s in the box, anyway?

Leela: Just some stuff for your reelection…

Poopenmeyer: (interrupting; happily) Ooo, look! Forms!

Leela: (annoyed) …campaign.

Poopenmeyer: Oil spilling…animals…mutants…blah, blah, blah. Okay, whatever. Where do I sign?

Leela: Um…Mr. Mayor, aren’t you gonna read those before you sign them?

Poopenmeyer: Why would I do that?

Leela: Well, what if there were things written there that you didn’t agree with? Don’t you think it would be a good idea to read them first, just in case?

Poopenmeyer: Listen, one-eyed nosy lady, I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I’ve never once read a form. And what does it matter what I do when I’m just gonna get reelected anyway?

Leela: Well, with all due respect, Mr. Mayor, sir…(angrily) You’re a useless, smug, annoying dumbass!

Poopenmeyer: What’s your point?

Leela: My point is, it’s about time we get someone new in the Mayor’s office.

Poopenmeyer: Fat chance. Who do you know with as much grace and intelligence and me?

Leela: You have about as much grace and intelligence as a lamp post. (Beat) That’s it…

Poopenmeyer: What?

Leela: Fry’s gonna run against you!

Fry: Me?

Poopenmeyer: You’re crazy!

Leela: I’m not crazy. It’s perfect! Fry’s the every man…Joe Schmo.

Fry: I resent that.

Leela (cont.): Who wouldn’t vote for him?

Poopenmeyer: You’re crazy!

Leela: I’m not crazy! And besides, what do you care? You said it yourself: you’re gonna win anyway. Are you just afraid of a little healthy competition?

Poopenmeyer: No way! Run for mayor, see what I care.

Leela: Fine, he will.

Fry: Leela, I think you’re crazy.

Leela: Shut up, Fry!

Fry: Yes, Captain!

Leela: Well, so long, Mr. Mayor…see you in the headlines.

Poopenmeyer: Good luck, freaks!

Fry: Thanks! (beat; then, angrily) Hey!

(Fry, Bender, and Leela leave the room. The first two walk ahead of Leela, who hangs back outside the office door. She leans up against it.)

Leela: I’m crazy…

(She slinks down the door.)

(Cut to Fry, Bender, and Leela. The three of them are walking on the sidewalk outside of the Mayor’s Office, towards the Planet Express ship, which is parked a few yards away. Leela appears to be deep in thought, and she looks a bit regretful.)

Fry: Leela, what just happened back there?

(Leela ignores him, still thinking.)

Bender: (eagerly) You mean you don’t remember? Because if you don’t remember, good ol’ Bender can replay the whole thing.

(He presses down on his antenna and a video tape pops out of his mouth, like a tape being ejected from a VCR. He holds it up in front of Fry’s face proudly.)

Fry: I know what happened—I just want to hear it from Leela’s mouth.

Bender: (pleadingly) But I have the footage…you can just watch the tape!

Fry: (annoyed) I don’t want to watch the tape—I want Leela to say it!

Bender: (dejected) Aww…what’s the use of being great if no one cares?

(He pops the tape back in his mouth.)

Fry: So, why did you do that, Leela?

(Leela decides to finally answer him. She sits down on the curb. Fry and Bender join her.)

Leela: (sighs) Look Fry, I had more than one reason for what I did back there.

Fry: What do you mean?

Leela: Well, I was really mad about all those forms and the stupid mayor and all that stuff, but there was another reason.

Fry: What do you mean?

Leela: (she takes a deep breath) There’s something about my past that I’ve never told anyone. It’s…

Fry: (interrupting; excitedly) Ooo, a secret! Lemme guess what it is! Lemme guess, lemme guess, lemme guess!

Leela: (annoyed) Fine!

Fry: Okay…um…does it have something to do with exotic dancing?

Leela: (defensively) No!

Fry: Oh. (beat) I got nothin’.

Leela: Look, when I was growing up at the Orphanarium…

Bender: Ugh…not another one of these stories! (to Fry) I’m gonna go get wasted. Fish me out of the gutter when she’s done.

Fry: Gotcha.

(Bender gets up and leaves. Fry inches a little bit closer to Leela and puts his arm around her shoulder.)

Fry: (in a comforting tone) So…tell me all about what happened at the Orphanarium.

Leela: Okay, but you have to promise you won’t interrupt.

Fry: No problem.

Leela: Oh, and Fry?

Fry: Yeah?

Leela: (through gritted teeth) Get your arm off of me before I do it the old fashioned way.

Fry: (apprehensively) Right!

(He takes his arm off of her and scoots a few inches away from her.)

Leela: Anyway…

(The screen dissolves to an exterior shot of the Orphanarium.)

Leela (v.o.): When I was eight years old, the Orphanarium had a mock election. Whoever won would get to be in charge of everything for a day.

(Cut to an eight-year old Leela, putting up posters that read “Vote for Leela” in the hallways of the Orphanarium.)

Leela (v.o.): I thought that an election would be a great opportunity for people to see the real me; maybe make some friends.

Fry: (v.o.): Wait, wait, wait…

(The shot of Leela cuts back to Fry and Leela in the present day, sitting on the curb.)

Fry: How would running for any type of political position let people know the real you? Isn’t the whole point of running for office to hide the real you?

Leela: Well, yeah, I guess…

Fry: So it makes no sense!

Leela: (defensively) Yeah, so…you drink toilet water!

Fry: That was just the one time!

Leela: Yeah, whatever you say, toilet boy. Now let me finish my story!

Fry: Yes, Mr. Leela.

Leela: Thank you. Anyway…

(The screen dissolves to Leela handing out flyers that read “Vote Leela” to various children that pass her out on the playground.)

Leela (v.o.): Everything was almost going mildly well…

(An orphan boy, Elmer, passes by Leela.)

Leela: Vote for Leela!

(She hands Elmer a flyer, and he crumbles it up in his hand.)

Elmer: Yeah, like I’d vote for a one-eye like you!

Leela: Oh, c’mon, Elmer, vote for me!

Elmer: What’s in it for me, freak?

Leela: Um…if you promise to vote for me, I’ll give you (her eye spots something on the ground and she points to it) that microwave burrito!

(She picks up said burrito (still in the wrapper) from the ground.)

Elmer: Is it low-carb or regular?

Leela: (looking at the wrapper) Regular.

Elmer: Yeah, right, One-Eye!

(Elmer laughs maliciously and walks past a dejected Leela.)

Leela (v.o.): Like I said, I almost had a shot at winning. Until…

(The camera, still on the younger version of Leela, pans over a few feet to another girl, Susie Meyer. She is a young girl, the same age as Leela, and she is the absolute epitome of a normal eight-year old schoolgirl. We see that she, too, is handing out flyers, which read, “Vote for Susie Meyer—She’s got two eyes and knows how to use ‘em!” Elmer, still laughing, passes by Susie.)

Susie: Susie Meyer, future political slimeball. Vote for me in this week’s election!

Elmer: Why should I vote for you?

Susie: Because I’m not her!

(Susie points to someone off-camera, and Elmer looks in the direction she points in. The camera pans over to a girl walking around. Something catches her eye, and she picks it up.)

Girl: Ooo, a burrito! (she looks it over) Eww…regular! (She tosses it aside)

(Cut back to Elmer and Susie, looking on.)

Elmer: You’re not Laura Dinkins?

Susie: Over there, Einstein-bot!

(She points to someone else off-camera. We pan to Leela, handing a flyer out to a Hispanic-looking young boy.)

Leela: (somewhat confused) Um…El Vote-o for el Lee-lo…

(Cut back to Susie and Elmer.)

Elmer: Oh…

Susie: So, will you vote for me?

Elmer: That depends…if I decide to vote for you, can I scream it out loud, for no apparent reason, thus forcing my opinions on to others?

Susie: Sure…it saves me the trouble of forcing you to do it.

Elmer: Alrighty, then. (screaming) Hey everybody, I’m gonna vote for Susie Meyer!

(All of the children on the playground turn around and murmur in excitement. They run over towards Susie, and we pan along with them as they do so. On our way, we happen to see Leela and the young Hispanic boy.)

Boy: (mockingly) “El Vote-o”? Give me a break!

(He runs off towards Susie with the rest of the kids, leaving Leela all alone.)

(Cut back to Fry and Leela in the present day. Fry has a sympathetic look on his face.)

Fry: I’m sorry, Leela—that must have been tough for you.

(He reaches over to put his hand on her shoulder, but Leela turns to him, her eye narrowed.)

Leela: (hostile) Fry, do you like having a left hand?

Fry: (nervously gulps) Yes.

Leela: Well, if you want to keep it, then put it back in your pocket and keep it away from me.

Fry: (nervous laugh) Right.

Leela: Good boy. Now, as I was saying…

(The screen dissolves to the sort of gymnasium/auditorium…place of the Orphanarium. (You know, the room where Leela accepted her award in “Leela’s Homeworld”.) There is a podium set up on a stage, and behind it, both Leela and Susie are seated. There is a sign behind them that reads, “Election Results Today” with “If you forgot to vote, no government provided food-like dinner for you tonight” printed in smaller letters. Children are seated on the floor before the stage. They are all very rowdy as the Warden of the Orphanarium walks on stage. The Warden notices this, and puts his hands up to silence the kids.)

Warden: Okay, children, I know we’re all excited to hear the results of the election, but you have to quiet down first.

Kid in the Audience (o.s.): Take this!

(A spitball comes flying at the Warden, but he ducks out of its path. The rowdiness in the audience continues.)

Warden: Now, now, children. I’m just asking you to simmer down for a moment so we can hear the election results. (laughs) And besides, that spitball’s not going to do much damage to a grown man like myself.

Kid in the Audience (o.s.): Oh, right—sorry.

(We hear the crack of a baseball bat from off-screen, and, wouldn’t you know it, a baseball flies towards the Warden. This time, it hits him right in the middle of his forehead, and he goes down like a bowling pin.)

(There’s a whiteout, then we fade back in to the same scene. The only difference this time around is that the sign behind the girls on the stage reads “Election Results Yesterday”, with smaller print reading, “Any child who attempts to knock the Warden out with a spitball, baseball, or a really big rock will be punished accordingly”.  This time around, the audience is perfectly silent when the Warden walks on stage (this time with a bandaged head and wobbly steps) and takes his place in front of the podium.)

Warden: (woozy) Hello, ladies, gentlemen, and Goldie Hawn over there (he points towards the back of the audience). I probably shouldn’t be here, because the really scary man with the stetho-ma-scope thing said I have a concussion…whatever that is. But, I told him that I have an obligation to you kids, and he said he admired my dedication and then he gave me this lolly. (he holds up a swirly lollipop proudly) So anyway, today we’re here to hear the results of yesterday’s election. Now, you had the choice of voting for either Marilyn Monroe over there (he points to Susie) or Batman over there (he points to Leela). Personally, I thought that both of them were terrible choices, so I wrote in for Adolph Hitler. Funny story about Hitler—he bought me my first banana boat, which is what that awful song was all about. Anyway, the boat was five hundred feet long, and it was shaped like a big pe--

(A voice from off-screen cuts him off.)

Voice (o.s.): That’s it.

(A woman walks on stage and pulls the Warden away from the microphone.)

Warden: (woozy) What’d I do? I was just standing here, talking about Abraham Lincoln and Underdog, and then you had to come over here and tell me that you’re making me move to Finland? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! I’m going to bed!

(The Warden falls asleep in the woman’s arms, and, obviously uncomfortable with the situation, she drops him on the floor and kicks him off to the side. She then moves to the podium.)

Woman: Okay, children, um…the Warden’s taking a nap, so I’m going to tell you the results of the election.

(She opens up an envelope that was sitting on the podium.)

Woman: And the winner is…Susie Meyer! Susie, that means that you get to run the Orphanarium for a day. (under her breath) Which is a good thing, because Paul over there needs a day off. So, Susie, you’re in charge for the rest of today. Have fun!

(The Woman walks off-stage.)

Woman: (muttering as she exits the stage) I need a drink…

(Susie takes the podium.)

Susie: Thank you to everyone that voted for me. I would like to congratulate my opponent, Leela, for an honest effort.

(An obviously upset Leela’s face brightens a little.)

Susie (cont.): I’d like to, but why would I congratulate a one-eyed freak?!

(The audience, along with Susie, goes wild. They all share a long, hearty laugh at Leela’s expense. While she looks a bit upset, Leela is pretty much undaunted by the remark. Noticing this, Susie turns to Leela when the ruckus dies down.)

Susie: Um…One-Eye? Don’t you care that I just zinged you in front of the entire Orphanarium?

Leela: Not really. You know what they say: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but only gamma radiation can hurt me.

Susie: Yeah, right, you big fat one-eyed freak!

(The audience once again is amused by this, but Leela is indifferent to their laughter. When the kids calm down again, a smug Susie turns back to Leela.)

Susie: Still nothing?

Leela: Uh-uh.

Susie: (annoyed) Fine, One-Eye! Who cares what you think—I’m still in charge! (she realizes something) And that means I can do whatever I want!

Leela: So?

Susie: So (she clears her throat and turns to the audience) for my first act as…um…

(Cut to a woman off stage.)

Woman: (whispering to Susie) Orphanarium…In-Charge…Lady!

(Cut back to Susie.)

Susie: …Orphanarium In-Charge Lady, I decree that anyone with one eye isn’t allowed to hang around with anyone with two eyes, and…um…they have to eat dirt everyday at 12:47!

Leela: But…but…

Susie: Upp, upp, upp—nothing you can do about it, freak!

(The audience cheers. Leela’s eye starts to well up, and she begins to cry.)

(Cut to Leela out on the playground, standing all by herself while all of the other kids are playing.)

Leela (v.o.): For two whole years, nobody would even talk to me…not even to call me One-Eye or Cyclops or Dirty McDirt Eater. It was awful.

(Cut back to Fry and Leela, who looks like she could be near tears.)

Fry: (sincere) Leela…I’m so sorry.

Leela: Ever since that day, I’ve been wanting to get back at that Susie Meyer. And now I can.

Fry: What?

Leela: Susie Meyer’s name was on those forms we saw back at the Mayor’s office. She must be working for him now…

Fry: How convenient…

Leela (cont.): …So now I…er…you, can finally give her a taste of her own medicine. Think you’re up to it?

Fry: No. But that’s never stopped me before, why should it now?

Leela: Thanks, Fry.

Fry: No problem.

(He puts his hand on hers. She stares down at it, then looks back up at Fry, a bit annoyed.)

Fry: (nervously) A-heh, you still don’t like that, do you?

Leela: No.

Fry: That’s what I thought.

(He pulls his hand away nervously and laughs.)

(Cut to the exterior of the Planet Express Building, a little while later.)

Hermes (v.o.): You did what!?

(Cut to the PE conference room. The whole crew is seated at the table, in their usual spots, with Hermes at the head. He is glaring at Amy.)

Amy: Spluh! For the last time, I borrowed your stupid stapler! Here!

(She hands Hermes the stapler.)

Hermes: Thank you. Now, back to what I should be screaming about…

(Hermes turns to Leela.)

Hermes: You did what!?

Leela: I decided to decide for Fry that he would run for Mayor.

Hermes: Wait, what?

Leela: Ugh, forget it! Sit down and let me say what I have to say.

Hermes: Fat chance!

Leela: Oh, c’mon, Hermes!

Bender: Yeah, let her talk. Besides, don’t you have a stapler to make out with anyway? (he laughs)

Hermes: Ouch, mon.

(Hermes dejectedly takes Leela’s seat, and Leela in turn takes Hermes place at the head of the table.)

Leela: Okay, everyone, if Fry’s gonna run for mayor…

Fry: I’m running for mayor?

Leela: Yes!

Fry: Alrighty, then.

Leela: Dear Lord. (she sighs) Anyway, if Fry’s gonna run for mayor, we’re all gonna have to really work our butts off to make sure he gets elected. And that means that everyone’s going to have a job.

(Cut to an extreme close-up of Professor Farnsworth’s head.)

Farnsworth: Wait, wait, wait! Last time I checked, you all already had a job: to deliver large packages and occasionally massage my scalp with oily soy-based liquids.

(Pull up from the close-up of Farnsworth to reveal Amy, standing over Farnsworth, massaging his scalp with oily soy-based liquids.)

Amy: This is the career I chose.

(Cut back to Leela.)

Leela: First of all, I think I speak for everyone when I say…Ewww. And second of all, Professor, don’t you still have that Helper Robot?

Farnsworth: What Helper Robot?

Leela: (she sighs) Exactly, that Helper Robot. He can make the deliveries while we work on Fry’s campaign.

Farnsworth: Like hell he will! I’ll make the deliveries!

(Farnsworth gets up out of his seat as forcefully as a geriatric scientist can, then walks slowly towards the hangar. We cut back to Leela.)

Leela: Whatever. Now like I was saying…

(Leela is cut off suddenly by loud snoring. We cut back to the Professor, and see that he has fallen asleep, standing about a foot from his chair. We cut back to Leela, agitated.)

Leela: Hermes?

Hermes: I’m on it.

(Hermes gets up from his seat, and we stay on a shot of the table as we hear loud crashes coming from the Professor’s general direction. After a beat of this, Hermes takes his seat.)

Leela: Thank you. Now, like I was saying: Like I was saying, we all have to be assigned jobs.

(She turns to Bender.)

Leela: Bender, could you zing Hermes again?

Bender: With pleasure. (he clears his throat) Besides, don’t you have a stapler to make out with anyway?

(Cut to Hermes. He is caressing the stapler with his hand, and sweet-talking to it.)

Hermes: (sweetly) There, there, Brenda…you’re back with Daddy now.

(Pull out to reveal that the rest of the crew is staring at Hermes, somewhat disgusted.)

Everyone (sans Hermes): Eww…

Hermes: (nervously) Um…I mean…Bender, mon, I’m offended!

Leela: Um, okay, my point’s kind of lost now, but, Bender, you’re good at pissing people off and making jokes, right?

Bender: Well, I don’t carry this diploma around for nothing.

(Bender opens up his chest compartment and pulls out a framed diploma reading, “Masters Degree from the University of Pissology and Wise-Cracks”.)

Leela: And that’s why you’re going to be Fry’s speechwriter.

Bender: ‘Cause I’m good at making people wish they were dead?

Leela: Exactly. Everyone knows that people only listen to speeches to hear the speaker make the other guy look like an idiot. Your job is to make Mayor Poopenmeyer wish he were dead!

Fry: Hooray!

Bender: What he said!

Leela: Great. (she turns to Amy next, who is back in her seat, wiping something resembling an oily soy-based liquid off of her hands with a towel) And Amy, you’re an engineering intern, right?

Amy: I am?

Leela: Yes!

Amy: Says who?

Leela: Says me! Ugh, look, since you have a background in machinery and stuff, you should be able to help us film Fry’s campaign ads.

Amy: Leela, you know that I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, right?

Leela: No.

Amy: Oh. Well, in that case, I totally understood everything you just said.

Leela: Good. (she turns to Zoidberg) Dr. Zoidberg…

(Cut to an eager-looking Dr. Zoidberg.)

Zoidberg: Ooo, ooo, finally it’s Zoidberg’s turn!

Leela: Um, actually, I was gonna ask you to go get me a nectarine.

Zoidberg: Awww…

Leela: But, now that you mention it, you’d make a perfect intimidator!

Zoidberg: A what?

Leela: An intimidator. You know, you could try to make people vote for Fry by using some sort of forceful persuasion.

Bender: Your face should do the trick!

Leela: That’s the spirit, Bender!

Zoidberg: Awww…(he starts to sob)

Leela: (turning to Hermes) And finally, Hermes, you and the Professor can fill out all the paperwork we’ll need to get Fry in the race.

Hermes: Hooray, paperwork!

Leela: Yeah, whatever. So, I guess that’s it.

Fry: Wait, Leela, I just realized something.

Bender: You did? Very good, Fry. Here, have a cookie.

(Bender hands Fry a cookie, which he got out of his chest compartment.)

Fry: Thanks.

Leela: What did you just realize, Fry?

Fry: You don’t have a job.

Leela: What do you mean? I’m your campaign manager. Was that not clear?

Bender: I think we all know the answer to that question…

Fry: Ooo, is the answer 27?

Bender: (Bender rolls his eyes) Give me back that cookie, Fry.

Fry: No.

Bender: Yes!

(Fry licks the cookie.)

Fry: Like you’re gonna want it now!

Bender: Wanna bet?

(Bender grabs the cookie.)

Fry: Give it back!

Bender: Never!

(Bender gives chase, and Fry runs after him in circles around the table.)

(Pull out to reveal the whole table. The Professor is lying in a heap on the floor, Hermes is patting the stapler on its metaphorical head, Zoidberg is sobbing,  Amy is reading a book called “Engineering for Really Big Dummies”, and Fry and Bender are still running around the table. Leela sighs.)

Leela: I need a drink…

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

Shoot...think I'm gonna need to double-post.

[Reply #306 on:]

And, as promised, here's my movie script...

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

Cold Opening

(Cut scene of the Planet Express Building)

(We hear Nibbler’s voice, as he narrates)

Nibbler: The world of tomorrow—a world inhabited by hemped up, apish morons… better known as humans. It is a world different from that of past centuries—robots and humans live together in perfect harmony…

(Cut to a shot of Bender and Fry sitting together on the Planet Express couch watching TV. As Nibbler continues narrating, the two stare vacantly at the screen. Fry occasionally scratches himself and Bender sometimes takes a swig from a bottle of beer or a drag from his cigarette)

Nibbler: Take, for example, this bending robot. (close in on Bender)  His name, Bender. His job, … um, I’ll get back to you on that. (close in on Fry) Anyway, Bender’s best friend, Fry, is the delivery boy for this, the Planet Express Delivery Service. Fry is a diligent…(Fry scratches himself)…um, somewhat productive…(Fry burps)…semi-interested…(Fry picks his nose)…

Nibbler (cont.): (frustrated)…You have to work with me here, Fry! Ugh, forget it. Let’s get to the more productive employees.

(Scene changes to Leela working on the Planet Express ship)

Nibbler: Ah, Leela, the captain of the Planet Express ship. The most beautiful woman…er, alien…er, mutant in Fry’s world…much to her dismay.

(Scene changes to the Planet Express crew sitting at the conference table, Hermes at the head. After a beat, the camera closes in on Hermes)

Nibbler: This is Hermes, the bureaucratic tightwad of the bunch. He manages the finances of the company for his less-than-able employer, Professor Hubert Farnsworth.

(Cut to the Professor. He’s fast asleep. After lingering on the shot for a beat, the camera moves towards Amy and Zoidberg—conveniently seated next to each other.)

Nibbler: Rounding out this bunch of buffoons, Amy Wong, the rich staff intern from Mars, and Dr. John Zoidberg, the um…”highly qualified” staff physician.

(Pull out to reveal the entire conference table and its occupiers)

Nibbler: Believe it or not, the fate of our world, our universe, lies in the hands of these seven weirdos. End transmission.

(The screen changes to static, then the familiar opening theme starts)

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

Opening Caption: Now a major motion picture…really

Cartoon Clip: The final seconds of “The Devil’s Hands are Idle Playthings”


(Fry, Leela, and Bender are sitting on the PE couch watching TV. Linda and Morbo are on.)

Morbo(reminiscent of a certain morning talk show diva): So Morbo Jr. called me in, and wouldn’t you know it, the thing was this big! Oh, it was the cutest thing. When he flushes, he says (classic Morbo) I WILL DESTROY YOU!

(Cut back to Fry, Leela, and Bender. Just then, the Professor walks in. He has a paper pinned to his forehead)

Farnsworth: Good news, everybody! You were supposed to be sent on a deadly mission to a distant planet, but I lost the paper with the directions, so that means….

Leela: Um…Professor?

Farnsworth: What?

Bender: Enough with your mindless chitchat! Give it here!

(Bender’s arms extend to the Professor’s forehead. He takes the pin out and takes the paper. When he does this, the puncture hole from the pin starts leaking air.)

Bender: Oops. Sorry.

(Bender puts the pin back in the Professor’s forehead. He reels his arms back to their original length He hands the paper to Leela.)
   
Leela: Hmm…”Planet Eternium”?…Never heard of it.

(Cut to Nibbler—diaper, cape, the whole routine--sitting in the corner near the doorway. When he hears Leela’s words, he runs out the doorway frantically)

(Cut to the Conference Room. Hermes is at the table’s head, with Leela, Fry, Bender, and the Professor seated)

Hermes: As you already know, today’s mission is to Planet Eternium.

Fry(confused): It is?

Leela: What Fry means is, what’s the mission?

Hermes: You all ‘ll be deliverin’ dis crate.

(Scruffy wheels out a cart with a crate on it. The crate has the words: “No Peeking” written in huge block letters on it)

Bender (to Scruffy): Who are you?

Scruffy: Scruffy, the janitor.

Farnsworth: I’m sorry, “Scruffy”, but the Conference Room is for employees only.

Scruffy: But Scruffy is…

Bender: Get the hell out!

(Scruffy leaves dejectedly, and Hermes walks over to the crate.)

Fry: So, what’s in the box?

Hermes: For the love of Jah, can’t you read, man?!

Bender: I think it’s pretty obvious that he can’t.

Hermes: It says, “No Peeking”. What kind of bureaucrat would I be if I let you peek!?

Fry: Um…a bad one?

Bender: Hey, he got one!

Leela: Enough snappy one-liners, you two. Let’s get going.

(Leela gets up, followed by Fry and Bender. Hermes stops them.)

Hermes: Leela and Fry, you go ahead. Bender has to stay here and walk Dr. Zoidberg.

(Cut to Zoidberg. He is holding a leash and jumping around like a yippy dog)

Zoidberg: C’mon! We have to find that squirrel what stole my acorns yesterday!

(He runs out of the room. Bender slowly follows, his head “bent” down. The camera cuts back to Hermes, Leela, and Fry)

Hermes (to himself; shaking his head): Heh, heh, again with the acorns…

(He notices Fry and Leela staring at him awkwardly. Hermes coughs, and then recomposes himself.)

Hermes: Get outta here.

(Cut scene of the Planet Express Ship taking off from the hangar.)

(Cut to the ship’s interior. Fry and Leela are at their normal positions—Leela at the helm and Fry with his feet up on the console)

Fry: So, where’s this Planet Eternium… place?

Leela: I’m not sure, so I need full concentration. That’s why I’m going to distract you with a logical diversion. Here.

(She throws Fry a cymbal-crashing monkey toy—similar to the one seen in “Obsoletely Fabulous”. He catches it.)

Fry: Cool, a monkey! And he has a pair of cymbals…how cute.

(The sound of a clock ticking is heard.)

Fry(to Leela): Okay, I’m bored. Now what?

Leela: Fry!

Fry: Fine, fine. I’ll just sit here quietly, like a good little boy.

(Fry puts on a child-like sneer and turns his back to Leela. After a beat, he turns back to Leela, who is back to steering the ship. His expression changes to a soft smile. He leans back in his chair and pulls out a small photo from his inside coat pocket. It is a snapshot of Bender extending his arm out over a cliff. Fry and Leela are dangling in his fingers. The three are all smiling at the camera. Fry smiles, looking at the picture for a few beats. Just then, the ship comes to a sudden halt. Fry flings forward into the console. He recomposes himself, puts the picture back in his pocket, and gets up to see what’s going on.)

Fry(to Leela): What was that? Did we hit a deer… that can fly…and live in space?…without air?

Leela: What? No! There’s just some hold up.

(She points to a line of at least a hundred halted ships, all of them being held up by some unknown obstruction.)

Fry: Wow. I wonder what’s up?

(We cut to the first ship in the long line. It is a pick-up “truck”, with its trunk door unlatched. Behind the trunk, there is a group of chickens with space helmets on. Sal, in a space suit, is chasing them, trying to coax them back into the truck.)

Sal: Gets backs heres!

(We cut back to Fry and Leela in the Planet Express ship.)

Fry: (panicked) We’ll be stuck here forever! (to Leela; mellow) So, who’s gonna eat who first?

Leela: Don’t worry, Fry. I’ll get us out of this.

(She presses a button and the ship travels upwards, above all the others. The ship then speeds away into the darkness of space. We stay on the traffic jam. It just so happens that the ship behind where the PE ship once stood is the Nimbus. We cut to the interior.)

Zapp: Kif, how did they do that?

Kif: Well, sir, in the year 2197, scientists enabled ships to travel in three dimensions. In fact, we could easily…

Zapp: Enough with your technical mumbo-jumbo! Anyway, while we’re stuck in this very sexual predicament, why don’t you give me a sponge bath?

(Zapp starts taking his shirt off, as Kif sighs his same old sigh.)

(We cut back to Fry and Leela in the Planet Express ship. The two are back at their regular positions.)

Fry: Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

Leela: I told you, yes, dammit! That’s why I need your help unloading the crate! C’mon.

(Fry gets up and the two head for the unloading dock of the ship. We cut to the unloading dock. The crate is on the ground, about 5 feet from a hover dolly.)

Leela: Let’s get it on the hover-dolly.

Fry: Gotcha.

(Fry attempts to pick up one end of the crate. He can only lift it about 2 inches above the ground, and even then, he struggles. Leela grabs the other end, lifting it about 2 feet in the air with ease. The two carry it to the hover dolly. Right after it is placed on the dolly, an exhausted Fry collapses.)

Leela: Meh.

(She nonchalantly lifts him up, and places him on top of the crate. She then “wheels” the dolly out of the ship and out to the planet’s surface.)

Leela: Woah…

(We see the planet from Leela’s POV. It is beautiful, the same pinnacle of architectural excellence that was seen in both “The Day the Earth Stood Stupid” and “The Why of Fry”. Leela attempts to wake Fry up so he can behold the beauteous sight.)

Leela: (gently) Fry? Fry, wake up… Fry?

(Aggravated, Leela “accidentally” tilts the hover dolly, causing Fry to fall off the side with a loud thud. After a beat, he shakily gets up.)

Fry: What up?

(He looks up and sees the Nibblonians’ utopia.)

Fry: Neat.

(The two stand in awe for a moment.)

Leela: C’mon…let’s go.

(They head towards a large dome. After a few short seconds, they reach the door.)

Fry: How do you know that this is where we’re supposed to make the delivery?

(Leela points to a sign on the wall next to the door that reads, “This is Where You’re Supposed To Make The Delivery”.)

Fry: Ah.

(Leela reaches to press the doorbell. Fry gently takes her hand.)

Fry: Let me handle this…

(Fry presses the doorbell and quickly leaps behind a plant conveniently placed right next to the door. He snickers. The bell rings, and immediately afterwards, the ground unlatches and Leela falls into the abyss. Fry jumps out from behind the plant.)

Fry: Leela? Leel…ahhhhhh!

(He inadvertently takes a step and falls into the same abyss. We cut to black. We can hear Fry and Leela.)

Leela: Where are we? I can’t see a thing.

Fry: Hold on. I think I have some matches in my pocket.

(Beat.)

Leela: That’s not your pocket…

(Beat, we hear the sound of someone striking a match, and then a small light illuminates the immediate area where Leela and Fry are.)

Fry: (sheepishly) Heh, heh…there we go.

Leela: Ugh. Let’s get going.

(They get up and start walking to screen right, Leela following Fry. After a few beats of the two walking, Fry trips over something (and, in effect, Leela  trips over Fry).)

Voice: Watch it!

(The sound of a switch being flicked on is heard, and—believe it or not—a light turns on. It illuminates an image of Leela on top of Fry (Um…yeah…I shamefully admit…in that position) with a cloaked figure, about a foot- and- a-half in height before them. Without noticing the figure, Leela gets off of Fry; both of them have an embarrassed/nervous smile on their faces. Leela helps Fry up, and the two of them brush themselves off. Then, they notice the figure.)

Fry/Leela: (gasp)

(The figure takes the hood of his cloak off. Under the hood, Nibbler is revealed.)

Leela: Nibbler?

(He nods.)

Fry: But…but…

(Nibbler motions for them to come with him. Fry and Leela look at each other for a moment, questioning whether or not they should follow, but in the end they do.)

(We cut to the conference room of sorts (the room with the row of chairs, each with a different cloaked Nibblonian seated). Nibbler, Fry, and Leela stand in the middle of the room, before all of the other Nibblonians. Two of the Nibblonians, a male named Ken and a female named Fiona, step forward and join Nibbler.)

Fiona(to Fry and Leela): Why don’t you two have a seat?

(He points to two small, pink chairs, suited for a Nibblonian, not a human.)

Leela: Um…we’re good.

(The two stay standing, in front of the Nibblonians.)

Nibbler: Good. I think we’re ready to begin.

All seated Nibblonians: We are the Nibblonians.

Nibbler: We are the Nibblonians.

All seated Nibblonians: Our species has been here since the dawn of time.

Nibbler: Our species has been here since the dawn of time.

All seated Nibblonians: These are…

Ken(to seated Nibblonians): Enough! (to Nibbler) As you were saying?…

Nibbler: These are the two heads of our society: Ken and Fiona (he motions to the two of them, respectively). I am Lord Nibbler.

Fry: Wait, wait, wait. Your real name is Nibbler?

Leela: That’s a very convenient coincidence.

Nibbler: (coughs, then nervously) Yes…coincidence. Heh, heh…

Fiona: I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’ve brought you here, so we’ll get to the point.

Ken: Since the universe began, we have been at constant war with…

(Dramatic music plays as a projection screen drops behind Ken, Fiona, and Nibbler. Ken clicks a button on a control he gets from his pocket. An image of the Brain Spawn appears on the screen.)

Ken(cont.): The Brain Spawn!

Fry: The brains! (to Leela) I told you about them, and you couldn’t remember…remember?

Leela: Wait a second…

Nibbler(interjecting): I’m sure this all must be very confusing for you.

Leela: Everything’s confusing for Fry!

(Nibbler jumps up to give Leela a high-five as the rest of the Nibblonians laugh in the background. Leela has a self-satisfied smile on her face and Fry looks dejected.)

Ken: (laughs; then wipes away a tear) Anyway, about two years ago, the Brain Spawn invaded Earth. (he turns to Leela) Leela, you have no memory of the invasion, because of the Brain’s stupifaction rays—they rendered you mindless for a period, and, after the Brains fled, they erased your memory of the event. Same goes for everyone else on Earth.

Fiona: (turns to Fry) Except for you, Fry.

Fry: But why? Is it because I poured that sour milk in my ears?

(Fry tilts his head to one side, and slow-moving sour milk pours from his ears, accompanied by the obvious sound effect.)

Nibbler: Fry, your memory wasn’t effected because you lack the Delta Brainwave. Normally, the Brains attack this wave, causing the loss of mind and memory.

Leela: Wait, how can Fry not have the Delta Brainwave?

Ken: Do you remember when you accidentally traveled back in time and Fry inadvertently…um…did the horizontal swing with his own grandmother?

Fry: The what-now?

Ken(cont.): Because of Fry’s actions in the past, he became his own grandfather, causing genetic abnormalities—including the lack of the brainwave.

Fry: And this.

(Fry stuffs his fist into his mouth. With his other hand, he lifts up his shirt, revealing his bellybutton. His hand reappears, waving to the Nibblonians, out of his navel. After a beat, he quickly pulls his hand back through his navel and out his mouth.)

Leela: Okay. So, what does this have to do with me?

(Ken, Nibbler, and Fiona exchange nervous looks. Then, after a small collective sigh, they turn to Fry and Leela. Ken hits a button on the control, and a still image of Fry in the cryogenic tube appears.)

Ken: Fry, do you recall how you came to the future?

Fry: Of course. I fell into that freezer-mabob and stayed there for 1000 years—until the year 3000.

Fiona: Correct. And, do you remember how you fell into the tube in the first place?

Fry: I leaned back on my chair and it accidentally tipped over and knocked me into the tube. Right?

Nibbler: (nervous) Not quite…

Fry: Damn. Well, at least I’m 1 for 2, anyway.

Leela: Wait, wait. What do you mean, “Not quite…”?

Nibbler: (sighs) Fry, you didn’t end up in the future through coincidence.

(Ken hits the button on the control and an image of Fry leaning back in his chair is seen. A clock behind him slowly counts down from 10.)

Nibbler: Back in the year 2000, our sages foresaw that, 1000 years hence, the Brain Spawn would formulate multiple attacks on the universe. You were our only hope to save the people of the year 3000. I…I pushed you into the tube.

(The clock in the background of the projection screen reaches 0. Then, the camera cuts to the image seen in “Jurassic Bark”—Fry and Nibbler’s shadows. We see Fry knocking himself into the tube. Ken pauses the image there.)

Fry: Wait, that’s not you…that’s that guy…I play him. (sudden realization) Me! How did I push me into the tube?

Leela: And what does this have to do with me?

Ken: Watch.

(Ken goes back several minutes in the tape—a task that takes about 5 seconds. He plays the tape. It is the section from the episode “The Why of Fry” where Fry has just rematerialized to prevent Nibbler from freezing him. It is transcribed below.)

(Behind Nibbler, in the corner of the desk, Fry appears and grabs him.)

Fry: Hold up. How did I go back in time?

(Ken pauses the tape.)
 
Nibbler: Fry, for a thousand years the Brain Spawn were busy collecting all of the information in the universe, planning on using it to destroy the universe. We enlisted your help, and, after discovering that it was I who had froze you, you went back in time to prevent it—with the help of the Brains.

Fry: Why can’t I remember any of that, then?

Nibbler: After saving the universe, I blanked your memory to prevent my true identity from being exposed.

Fry: Ah. Wait, what?

(Ken resumes the tape.(NOTE: Everything below in brackets transpires on the screen and is taken straight from “The Why of Fry”))

[Fry: Gotcha!

(Nibbler squeals.)

Nibbler: I don't understand.

Fry: Yes you do! You came back in time to knock me into that freezer. Now I came back in time to stop you.

Nibbler: I did not come back in time. My people lack that ability.

Fry: But, I know you in the future. I cleaned your poop.

Nibbler: Quite possible. We live long and are celebrated poopers. You will meet me when I'm a thousand years older.

Fry: Not if you don't freeze me.

(Past Fry sits down on the chair and puts his feet up on the desk.)

Nibbler: Please. Our sages foresee that in a thousand years, at one moment, the fate of the universe will depend on you. Since you will not live that long I must freeze you now.

Fry: Well, why couldn't you just ask me?

Nibbler: We were afraid you would refuse.

Fry: Of course not, I love the future.

Nibbler (choking): Then why are you choking me right now?

Fry: Because I don't like being used.

Nibbler: Well now it's your choice. Is there nothing in the future worth saving?

Fry: Leela. But she doesn't think much of me.

Nibbler: Ah, she must be the other.

Fry: Wha?

(Past Fry's chair starts to tumble back. Future Fry holds the leg.)

Nibbler: You must not give up on her. I am stationed on a distant world known as Vergon 6. But if you return to the future I will transfer to Earth to give you what help I can.

(Outside, the countdown to New Year begins.)

Fry: You really think I would have had a chance with Leela?

Nibbler: You must choose. The present or the future? To save yourself? Or to save Leela?

(The countdown reaches 1. Past Fry leans back on his chair and blows his party blower. Future Fry blows the chair and Past Fry tumbles back into the cryotube. He freezes.)]

(Ken presses a button on the control and the projection screen rolls up, off-screen. He puts the control in his pocket.)

Leela(softly; to Fry): You gave up your old life…for me?

(Fry nods. The two just look at each other for a moment…we know that something special is happening between them at that moment. But, before we can find out what, Ken interjects. Fry and Leela turn to him.)

Ken: So, that’s what happened.

Leela: Wait a second. What was that you said…about me being “the other”?

Fiona: 1000 years ago, our sages also foresaw that, in the future, the fate of the universe would depend on two. Fry…and you.

(Fry and Leela exchange confused looks.)

Ken: And, finally, that leads us to why we brought you here. The time is near. Soon, the Brain Spawn will once again unleash an attack on the universe. You two are our only hope.

Nibbler: But, that’s a whole other story. Tomorrow, we will prepare you for your mission. Now, it is getting late. You two should be getting to bed. (He claps his hands.) Guards!

(Two armored Nibblonians come forward. They take Leela and Fry out of the room, down a corridor, and to a door. They open it for them.)

Guard: There’s only one bed, so you two will have to share.

(Fry and Leela exchange looks, and then they shut the door. The guards leave. We cut back to Nibbler and Ken.)

Nibbler: Do you think they’ll fulfill the prophecies?

(The sound of bedsprings squeaking frantically is heard in the background. Ken and Nibbler exchange sly smiles.)

Ken: I don’t think we have anything to worry about.

(We cut to outside Fry and Leela’s door. The sound of bedspring squeaking is still heard as the following dialogue is heard.)

Leela: Fry, this can’t be right. I mean, I know we both have urges, and we need to satisfy them, but we have to try and contain ourselves.

(We cut to inside the room. Fry is jumping up and down on the bed, as Leela looks on from the floor.)

Leela: So that’s why I’m telling you to get off the bed, now!

Fry: Ah, c’mon. It’s fun!

(Leela contemplates it for a moment. She looks up at Fry and sees him looking at her with a “puppy-dog” expression. She shrugs.)

Leela: Eh, what the hell?

(She climbs up on to the bed and joins Fry. The bedspring squeaking resumes.)

(The scene changes to a large, round table, the next day. A large group of Nibblonians are seated. From left to right: Ken, Nibbler, and Fiona are at the head, seated on chairs that are slightly more elevated than the rest. Just then, Fry and Leela walk in, still in their PJs, and with the disheveled appearance of two people who just woke up from a restless night’s sleep.)

Ken: It was noisy last night. Did you two…have fun?

(Fry and Leela look at each other, slyly)

Fry/Leela: …Yes.

(The two smile, and the Nibblonians share sly looks and grins.)

Nibbler: Why don’t you two have a seat?

(Fry takes an empty seat to the left of Ken, and Leela takes one to the right of Fiona.)

Ken: Anyway, before we get started with the task at hand, we must have a hearty breakfast…by which I mean that we’ll be eating space cow hearts.

(The table flips over to its backside. On this side of the table, there are hundreds of plates (one for each patron of the table) with large hearts on them.)

Fry: (to Ken) How’d you do that?

(All of the Nibblonians swallow their hearts in one bite. Fry and Leela, however, just sit there with disgusted looks on their faces.)

Fiona: Aren’t you going to eat?

Leela: Um…we had a big dinner.

Ken: Very well. We’ll just throw it out.

(He claps his hands. An oafish, hunched Nibblonian limps over. He is drooling and has a look of complete stupidity over his face.)

Ken: Here, Igor.

(He takes Fry and Leela’s plates and pours the contents into Igor’s mouth. His tongue grinds up the hearts like a garbage disposal (accompanied by the coinciding sound effect), and he swallows the ground up pieces. (A bit disgusting, yes, but I digress…) He then limps off-screen.)

Nibbler: Very good. Now, to the “Plan Formulating” Room.

(The table flips over again, and the other, clean side of the table is now visible. The Nibblonians and Leela exit the room, but Fry lingers.)

Fry: How did they do that?…

(He sticks his head under the table, and we hear a splatter.)

Fry: Eww…

(We cut to the “Plan Formulating” Room. It is a large room, and rater indistinguishable from the Conference Room. Again, all the Nibblonians but Fiona, Nibbler, and Ken are seated in the darkness. Fry and Leela are again sitting on the floor before them.)

Ken: So, Fry and Leela, I guess you two want to know more about why we brought you here.

Fry: We do?

Ken (cont.): So, I’ll let Lord Nibbler continue.

Nibbler: Thank you. (he clears his throat) Now, as you recall, last night, we talked to you about our archenemies, the (air quotes) “Brain Spawn”. Before we go any further, we’d like to show you an educational…

Fry: Aww…

Nibbler (cont.): …video about these (air quotes) “Brain Spawn”.

Fry: (air quotes) “Okay.”

Leela: Fry, (air quotes) “Stop that!” Er…I mean, stop that!

(She hits him in the back of the head, as the lights dim. A screen comes down from the ceiling. We see alien numbers counting down from 10. When the count reaches zero, we close in on the screen.)

(The film’s title, “Brains Attacks!” is superimposed on the screen, along with the copyright information, “A Nibblomania! Production. Copyright 2967”. After a beat of dramatic music accompanying it, the title fades.)

(A Nibblonian enters from stage left. He has a somewhat hippie-ish (yes, I made that word up) beard, a peace necklace, and a brown corduroy jacket. He stops in the middle of the screen.)

Nibblonian: (he clears his throat) Oh, hello there. I’m…(he turns to his left, and suddenly breaks character) um, is this thing on? It is? You sure? Okay. (He clears his throat, yet again) A-heh, anyway…as I was saying, I’m your Lord Nibbler.

(At this point, we cut to Fry and Leela, who are staring at the screen, both amused and shocked.)

Fry: That’s Nibbler!?

(Fry and Leela share a rather hearty laugh at Nibbler’s expense.)

Nibbler: (somewhat offended) It was a very confusing time, alright!

Leela: Well, you’d have to be confused to wear that jacket!

Nibbler: (harshly) Silence! (small pause; apologetically) I mean, please…my liege.

Leela: Liege?

(Nibbler just coughs, realizing his slip-up, and points to the screen. With a bit of hesitation, Leela and Fry turn back to the screen. Again, we close in. Conveniently enough, the video seems not to have progressed a moment since we last saw it, despite the fact that a conversation has just transpired in real time.)

Nibbler (cont.): I’m here today to talk to you about our archrivals (dramatic background music plays as we close in on Nibbler)…The Brain Spawn!

(On-screen, the shot changes to a rather low-budget animated sequence. It starts with a poorly drawn brain floating around and whistling innocently.)

Nibbler (v.o.): Aw…look at that cute little levitating mass of nerves and slimy veins we call the brain. Innocent enough, right? (dramatic sting) Wrong!

(The animated shot cuts to another, with a brain leaning up against a pole on a street corner, again whistling.)

Nibbler (v.o.): These flying menaces terrorize our streets…

(Just then, an innocent Nibblonian pedestrian walks by the brain, and, somehow, the brain manages to trip the pedestrian when he crosses its path.)

(The second scene changes to a third, with the same brain hiding behind a bush.)

Nibbler (v.o; cont.): They frighten our children…

(As an innocent Nibblonian child passes by the bush, the brain pops out, wearing an ape mask. The child runs away screaming.)

(This scene changes to another, of a brain on someone’s porch, by the front door.)

Nibbler (v.o.; cont.): And they taunt our elders!

(The brain rings the doorbell, and then quickly hides in a nearby bush. Just then, an elderly Nibblonian woman answers the door, looking to both sides of her.)

Nibblonian Woman: Hello? Hello?…

(The scene cuts back to Nibbler.)

Nibbler: But, these evil creatures have one more, much more serious way of overpowering us Nibblonians. You see, these brains emit powerful (yet another sting) Stupifaction Rays! These rays attack our mental capacity, making us lose our memories and intelligence. Observe.

(The scene changes to another poorly animated one, this time of a brain and of a Nibblonian standing side by side. The brain, facing the Nibblonian, zaps him with a bluish ray. An arrow, labeled “STUPIFACTION RAY” points to the beam. After a beat or two, the ray disappears as suddenly as it appeared. The Nibblonian is left with a dazed and confused look on its face.)

Nibbler (v.o.): After being attacked by these Stupifaction rays, there’s no telling what the victim may do.

(The animated Nibblonian begins to walk to stage right, and the camera passes by him. The Nibblonian stops at a sign, oddly resembling the Enron logo, which reads “Boron”. He walks into the tall building behind the sign. We stay on the exterior shot.)

Nibblonian: (Sly Stallone-ish) Duh…I’d like to buy a thousand jillion shares, please.

Voice: Certainly, sir.

(The sound of a cash register is heard.)

Nibblonian: Duh…thanks, mam.

(Beat.)

(The building suddenly comes crashing down; all of the money contained therein plummeting to Earth.)

Nibblonian: Piiiiiiieeeee! Um…I mean, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

(We cut back to Nibbler, obviously distressed, with his face in his hands.)

Nibbler: Oh, the humanity! (Beat, as he recomposes himself) Ahem. Anyway, as you can see, these brains are a threat to our race and every other in the universe. That is, for now. (dramatic music plays) (Nibbler yells to someone off-screen) Would you stop that! (he turns back, and clears his throat sheepishly) Anyway, we Nibblonians have taken extra precautions to ensure the safety of this, and every other, universe.

(The scene changes to a grainy black-and-white video of Fry. In the lower right hand corner of the screen, “March 6, 1996” is superimposed, along with, “Test Subject: Z ½”. Fry is wearing a weird metal helmet with a bunch of flickering lights on it. He has a pen in his hand, and is using it to navigate a wooden maze. He takes a wrong turn, and in turn receives a shock, via the helmet. Meanwhile, a mouse in a box labeled “Raoulgernon” is navigating the same maze with ease.)

(We cut back to Fry and the others.)

Fry: Hey, I did that in confidence!

(We cut back to the image on screen, as Nibbler narrates.)

Nibbler (v.o.): This man, Philip J. Fry, lacks the Delta Brainwave, making him immune to an attack by the brains.

(The image changes to that of Fry falling into the cryogenic tube.)

Nibbler (v.o.): To ensure that he, our messiah, would live to save us from the Brain Spawn, our supreme leaders decided to cryogenically freeze this Phillip J. Fry for one thousand years—until the year 3000.

(The scene cuts back to Nibbler.)

Nibbler: Until then…(yet another dramatic music cue)…we are left to fend for ourselves. (the music suddenly stops) Goodnight.

(Nibbler turns around and walks off of the screen.)

(Beat.)

(Nibbler’s head pops back onto the frame.)

Nibbler: Cut.

(The screen goes black, and then rolls back up to the ceiling. The lights automatically turn back on. Nibbler turns to Fry and Leela.)

Nibbler: Any questions?

(Fry raises his hand.)

Nibbler: (pointing to Fry) Yes?

Fry: Um, yeah, when you put a Pop Tart in the toaster, is it supposed to explode?

Nibbler: I’m afraid that I am unfamiliar with these “Pop Tarts”. Are they an explosive of some sort?

Fry: Nope. They’re these crusty square things that people use to shingle roofs. Oh, and I guess you could eat them, too.

Nibbler: Oh. In that case, this question has absolutely nothing to do with the topic at hand.

Fry: That is true.

Nibbler: Okay then, does anyone else have a question?

(A cloaked Nibblonian in the background raises his hand.)

Nibblonian: Um, Mr. Fry…sir? Where can I find these so-called Pop Tarts? ‘Cause, see, I was thinking of remodeling my house and…

Ken: (agitated) Enough! (he sighs) Does anyone have a question about the movie!

Leela: Um, yeah, I do.

Nibbler: What is it?

Leela: Um, I still don’t get why I have to be here. I mean, that movie said nothing about me. What’s all this stuff about me being “the other” about, already?

(A leery Nibbler looks to Ken and Fiona for confirmation. All three Nibblonians share uncertain looks. Nibbler turns back to Leela, nervously.)

Nibbler: (nervously) Well, um, do you want to hear the truth?

Leela: I want to hear some version of the truth.

Ken: Ah, that’s different, then. (turns to Nibbler) Proceed, Lord Nibbler.

Nibbler: As you wish. (clears throat) Leela, how long have you known Fry?

Leela: Too long.

Fry: I resent that.

Nibbler: Exactly, Leela—you’ve known him for more than 4 years. And what have you learned about him in those four-plus years?

Leela: That he doesn’t shower?

Fry: No argument there.

(Nibbler stares at Fry, disgusted.)

Fry: What?

Fiona: This dialogue has gone on far too long. Just get to the point, Lord Nibbler. (staring at Fry; disgusted) Please.

Nibbler: Of course. Now, Leela, as I was saying, the one thing you should know about Fry by now is that he’s as weak as a marshmallow.

Fry: I like marshmallows.

(Leela stares at Fry.)

Fry: What is it? Is there something on my face? Is it a raccoon?

Leela: Fry, I have a question. Did your mother drop you on your head when you were little?

Fry: Plenty of times.

Leela: Ah. Just checking.

(Nibbler coughs, trying to get Leela’s attention.)

Leela: Oh, yeah, right. Um…so, what does Fry’s lack of physical…

(Just then, Fry runs by Leela, screaming and trying frantically to brush something off of his face.)

Leela (cont.): …—and mental—strength have to do with anything?

Nibbler: Well, as you already know, it is Fry’s duty to save the universe from the Brain Spawn.

Leela: Go on.

Nibbler: But, the Brain Spawn are evil, cunning, clever! Did you not pay attention to the movie?

Leela: So, what you’re saying is, Fry needs someone to help protect him?

Nibbler: Yes.

Leela: And I’m that someone?

Nibbler: Exactly.

Leela: Oh. (beat) But wait a minute…how can I protect Fry when I’m not actually immune to the Brain Spawn’s Stupifaction rays?

Ken: Silence! (beat, as he recomposes himself) I mean, we’ll cross that pile of cow heads when we come to it. (turning to Nibbler) Right?

Nibbler: Um, right.

(Fry, who has been running around in the background this whole time, passes by Leela again, screaming.)

Leela: Shut up, Fry!

(In a fit of anger, Leela picks up Nibbler and throws him at Fry. Fry stops dead in his tracks, spins around, then falls to the ground like a bowling pin (with the obvious sound effect). Nibbler falls back to the ground and lands on his feet, pretty much undaunted.)

(Beat, as everyone just stares at Fry, lying on the floor, unconscious. Nibbler turns to Leela.)

Nibbler: Thank you.

(Blackout.)

(The black screen flitters, like eyes opening. After several attempts, the eyes open completely. We see things from the P.O.V. of someone lying on the ground. The scene is of a park—green grass, blue sky, the whole bit. Bender is sitting on a bench, his head turned, presumably talking to someone.)

Zoidberg (v.o.): (quietly) W-where am I? What’s going on? There’s the ro-but—I’ll ask him what’s going on. (loudly) Hello, friend!

(Cut to Bender on the bench. He turns his head.)

Bender: Oh, it’s you. I thought you died; I ordered a cake.

(Bender holds up a cake that says, “Free At Last, Free At Last!”) 

(Cut to Zoidberg who, by this point, has gotten up and brushed himself off.)

Zoidberg: What’re you talking about? What happened?

(Cut back to Bender.)’

Bender: You were fighting with some furry little man over some nuts. Ran into a tree. Funny stuff…good thing I got it all on tape.

(He holds up the tape for Zoidberg (now at Bender’s side) to see.)

Zoidberg: Oh, I’m so happy you didn’t leave me, ro-but! I always knew you liked me!

(Zoidberg hugs Bender, who is absolutely disgusted. He pushes Zoidberg off of him.)

Bender: Hey, hey, hey! Don’t get fresh with me, Romeo-bot. Besides, if it were up to me, I would have left you here. But, lucky for you, I’ve been romancing a lovely fembot for the past couple of days…

(Bender turns his head back towards the other side of the bench, but there’s no fembot in sight. Pull out to reveal that the fembot is arm in arm with a tall, handsome robot.)

Tall Handsome Robot: Hey, baby. Wanna see a real robot’s exhaust pipe?

(The fembot giggles, then skips off with the robot.)

(Pull back in to reveal Bender.)

Bender: Awww man…

Zoidberg: (trying to console Bender) What’s wrong, friend?

Bender: (angrily) Shut up and get in your cage!

Zoidberg: But I don’t have a cage.

Bender: You do now!

(Bender grabs Zoidberg and somehow manages to stuff the lobster into his chest compartment. Bender gets up, and waddles off, each step he takes being marked by a “Whoop, whoop, whoop!” from good ol’ Zoidy.)

(Cut scene of the Planet Express Building, followed by a cut to the Conference Room. Amy and the Professor are playing cards, as Hermes prepares for the day’s meeting. The camera focuses on Amy and Farnsworth.)

Amy: Your turn, Professor.

Farnsworth: Wha-? Oh, um, right. Uh, I’ll take Small Mammals for 500, Alex.

Amy: We’re playing poker, Professor.

Farnsworth: Oh. Well, in that case…

(Farnsworth stops there, and stares into space. Amy looks at him, waiting for a response. Before she gets one, we hear the door open, and see Bender and a woozy Zoidberg walk into the Conference Room.)

Bender: Hiya, Jerks.

Zoidberg: Greetings to all! Zoidberg had a marvelous time! I—

(Farnsworth suddenly comes out of his daze, and turns to Bender and Zoidberg.)

Farnsworth: (angrily) Where have you two been!? You missed approximately 960 minutes of work! That means you owe me twenty-seven dollars and ninety-three cents apiece!

(Everyone just stares at the Professor, in a state of shock.)

Farnsworth: What? I may be senile, but I’m still a genius, dammit! (beat; then, to Bender and Zoidberg) Now have a seat, President Cleveland…both of you.

(The rest of the crew exchange dubious looks, but eventually shrug it off. Bender and Zoidberg take a seat. Hermes ceremoniously whacks a handsome-looking gavel on one of them...gavel-whacking-on-wooden-platform thingies.)

Hermes: (clears his throat) Now, da first item of business has got ta do wit’ this nice little gavel dat I went and done bought myself with the company’s money. (he strokes it lovingly as he continues) Dis lovely little t’ing cost this company quite a pretty penny. So, don’t be surprised if you don’t get paid dis month. (he sets the gavel down) And now onto less important matters. It has come ta my attention dat…

(Bender notices something.)

Bender: Hey, where’re Fry and the bossy lady?

Farnsworth: Oh, Bender, you and your wild imagination. There’s no such thing as a “Fry”. He’s merely a myth…like Santa Claus and world peace.

Amy: (scanning her surroundings) Hey, Hermes, Bender’s right. There’s no sign of Fry or Leela.

Hermes: I can’t believe it! I must’ve been so caught up in my new gavel dat I totally forgot about any of you morons.

Bender: Who’re you callin’ a moron?

Amy: I think what Bender means is, where could Fry and Leela be?

Bender: No. I meant, (to Hermes) Who’re you callin’ a moron!?

Amy: Okay, Bender, you’re not making this situation any easier.

Bender: I’m not trying to.

Zoidberg: And you’re doing a fantastic job, if I do say so myself, Mr. Bender, sir!

Bender: (making a fist) Shut up, you…

(Zoidberg cowers in fear of Bender and his shiny metal a--…er, fist. In an attempt to regain control of the room, Hermes whacks his gavel repeatedly.)

Hermes: People! Can’t we stand ta be in da same room wit’ each other for at least five minutes?

Bender: Hell, no!

Amy: I actually agree with Bender on this one.

Hermes: Oh, for the love of Jah…

(Farnsworth, who seems to have been ignored by everyone (including me), decides to speak up.)

Farnsworth: Oh, c’mon, everyone, listen to Hermes. After all, he does have the gavel. And he is the man in charge of your paychecks, if you catch my drift.

(The rest of the crew stares at the Professor, yet again, for a beat.)

Hermes: Well den, shall we continue?

Bender/Amy: Yeah.

(Bender jabs Amy lightly in the side to get her attention, then motions towards the Professor.)

Bender: (whispering) You ever notice how he always starts making sense just when things are getting out of control?

Amy: (whispering) Yeah. It’s really convenient.

Hermes: Ahem.

Amy: Oh, yeah, right.

(Bender, Zoidberg and Amy sit down. Hermes takes charge.)

Hermes: Da last time I saw Fry and Leela was when I sent dem on dat delivery to Planet Eternium. Has anyone seen dem since den?

(Everyone else collectively shakes their heads “no”.)

Hermes: Hmmm… So, none of you have any idea where da two of dem could be?

(Everyone shakes their heads again.)

Hermes: I can’t believe dat none of you know where Fry and Leela are!

Farnsworth: Fry and Leela? Why, I know where they are!

Amy: You do?

Hermes: But you just shook your head “no” two seconds ago!

Farnsworth: I didn’t shake my head.

Hermes: Yes ya did, ya loony! (shakes his head) Remember?

Farnsworth: Oh, that. Why, that was nothing but a neck spasm.

Bender: (making a fist) I’ll show you neck spasm, old man! Now do you know where the skintube and his girlfriend are or not?!

Farnsworth: Oh my, yes.

Amy: Well, where are they?

Farnsworth: They’re still on that godforsaken rock Hermes sent them to a couple of days ago.

Hermes: How do you know dat?

Farnsworth: Well, said godforsaken rock is quite a distance away from this godforsaken rock.

Amy: Are you saying that they ran out of fuel, Professor?

Farnsworth: I have no idea what I’m saying. All I know is that Fry and Leela are stuck on Planet Eternium.

Hermes: But how da you know dat?

Farnsworth: Easy. The Planet Express Ship was constructed mainly of cheap scrap metal. It was bound to break down sooner or later. Well, technically sooner, not later. But I think you get what I mean.

Amy: Not in the least.

Farnsworth: Oh well, I’ve done all I feel like doing to help you. I’m going to bed.

(Farnsworth just sits still for a moment. Then, his head flops over onto the table, and he begins drooling and snoring.)

Hermes: What was dat all about?

Bender: I have no idea. (stands up dramatically) But I think it’s clear what we must do now!

Zoidberg: Yes sir, Mister Bender, sir!

Bender: Oh, would you get out of here already?!

(Bender quickly opens up his chest compartment, pulls out a random pickaxe, and throws it at Zoidberg. Zoidberg runs out of the room, whoop-whoop-whooping all the way.)

Bender: (resuming dramatic stance) Like I was saying, we’ve gotta save Meatbag and Ponytail!

Hermes: No way!

Amy: Why not?

Hermes: Because how do we know dat da Professa’s not just makin’ all dis up?

Amy: Well, we don’t really, but…

Hermes: Exactly.

Bender: But…but…(a thought strikes him) Can you imagine how many of those forms of yours you’ll get to fill out if it turns out that the living prune was wrong?

Hermes: Keep talkin’…

Bender: I mean, there’s gotta be a lot of paperwork to fill out when some old guy sends you out on a snipe hunt, right?

Amy: Um…yeah! Bender’s right. Aren’t there a whole bunch of papers to fill out for…Incontinence—er—Incompetence in the Workplace?

Hermes: (drooling a little) Well, yes…yes dere are.

Bender: You like papers, remember?

(Hermes nods, entranced. He seems to be frozen still.)

Bender: (whispering to Amy) I think we got him. Now go get him and all those other jerks to the hangar.

Amy: Sure. (beat) Say, Bender, why are you so concerned for other people’s welfare all of a sudden? It’s so unlike you.

Bender: (sheepishly) Well…um…I mean, there’s still so much stuff left to loot from those lovebirds…and stuff. It’s not like I care about them or anything…just their swag.

(Bender stands there, embarrassed, for a moment, as Amy knowingly stares at him. She gives Bender a knowing look before leaving to go get the others. When she’s gone, Bender looks upward towards the sky.)

Bender: Stupid semi-lovable pets…

(Bender stares solemnly up at the sky for a beat.)

Amy (o.s.) : Bender!

Bender: (turns around in all directions; nervously) Um…I didn’t say anything!

Amy (o.s.) : Huh?

Bender: Er…I mean, what is it?

Amy (o.s.) : Could you come here a second?

Bender: No.

Hermes (o.s.) : Oh, for Jah’s sake man! Get your shiny metal ass down here!

Bender: Hey! That’s Mr. Shiny Metal Ass to you!

Hermes (o.s.) : Get down here!

Bender: Fine! If you insist…

(We close-in on Bender’s head as he makes his way down to the hangar.)

Bender: Okay. What is it?

Amy: I think we have a problem.

(Pull out to reveal an empty hangar—no ship in sight (well, duh…))

Bender: Dammit!

(Cut to the exterior of “Adams’ Auto Rentals (A Free Towel to Every 50th Customer!)”. A luxurious spaceship can be seen on the left side of the screen. Farnsworth, Zoidberg, and Hermes are examining the ship, while Bender and Amy are doing business with the dealer.)

Dealer: That’ll be 200 thousand dollars.

Bender: Here ya go.

(Bender hands the dealer a huge wad of cash, as Amy looks on.)

Amy: Where’d you get all that money?

Bender: Your wallet. Here.

(Bender hands her the wallet back. She opens it up and quickly looks through it. She pulls out her driver’s license, and sees that her picture has been cut out of it.)

Amy: Hey! Where’d my picture go?

Bender: (holding up a pair of scissors) Honey, that picture wasn’t doin’ favors for anyone!

(Amy curses Bender out in Cantonese as the dealer hands Bender the keys to the ship.)

Bender: Pleasure doing business with you. (to Amy) C’mon, toots.

(Amy grunts, but relents, and follows Bender to the ship. The camera pans over so that the ship’s exterior takes up the whole frame. We can see the characters’ silhouettes through the ship’s window.)

Farnsworth (v.o.) : Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.

Zoidberg (v.o.) : I call shotgun!

Bender (v.o.) : Oh no you don’t!

(Bender opens up his chest compartment, pulls out a chef’s hat, and puts it on.)

Bender (cont.; v.o.) : Who’s up for shrimp gumbo?

(We can see Bender give chase, and Zoidberg running away from him.)

Bender (v.o.) : Come back here, entrée! 
 
(The sound of someone being hit on the head with something resembling a pot can be heard.)

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

So, that's it until late next week. Expect an actual update sometime soon after I get back from my trip.

P.S.: Sorry for the double-post.

[Reply #307 on:]

Dammit, now besides reading ALL of Layla's stuff, I have to come back and read this. You fan fic writers, always having to update. Nah, you're all great. But I still have a long way to go.

[Reply #308 on:]

Oh, I was already up to speed.  I was just trying to suggest that more aptly-titled updates would behoove them and, indeed, behoove us all.

 

Amy: (scanning her surroundings) Hey, Hermes, Bender’s right. There’s no sign of Fry or Leela.

Also, was I the only one who imagined Amy whipping out a tricorder (or 100% compatible device) to "scan" her surroundings, or was that the desired effect and I'm just slow on the uptake?

[Reply #309 on:]

Dr. T: Ah, I see. I wasn't quite sure if that was the case (y'know, that you had read them all). Also, I figured posting both stories in their (semi-)entirety would just be an easy way for you to sort of get the gist of which story is which. Also, anyone else who wasn't caught up would have something to read while I'm away. Glad you're already caught up, though.

Oh yeah, and, as for Amy's line, I never pictured what you pictured. So, for having a better imagination than I do, um...treat yourself to a nice meal at a fancy restaurant. Pretend I'm paying.

Thanks for reading, and putting up with the lack of aptly-titled updates. 


Spacedal: Hmmm...I'm sorry. I didn't know that you're still behind when it comes to the two unfinished fics. Please don't feel obligated to read 'em or anything, especially when I'd rather read Layla's story than mine. (Enjoy it, dammit!)

Well, okay then, I guess I'll see you all on Wednesday...ish.

[Reply #310 on:]

Thanks for posting those two stories seperatley! I much less confused now. It's a great idea for n00bs. Gotta start reading now!

[Reply #311 on:]

It's great for occasional readers too.  I just read through everything.  At work. 

I am so goddamned fired.

[Reply #312 on:]

That's okay.  I was writing my new one while at work today.

[Reply #313 on:]

I was writing my fic while at work today too.

We are horrible employees.

[Reply #314 on:]

Wait... we're allowed to write fic somewhere other than work?! 

*makes note of this*

Thanks for putting all your stories together Gorky, that helps sort things out a bit.

[Reply #315 on:]

Well I read the movie script now (at work obviously). Very good, but now I want to know what's going to happen!! I think it's a good idea to take up the brain spawn/Nibblonians story for a script.

[Reply #316 on:]

 

Originally posted by Gorky:
Spacedal: Hmmm...I'm sorry. I didn't know that you're still behind when it comes to the two unfinished fics. Please don't feel obligated to read 'em or anything, especially when I'd rather read Layla's story than mine. (Enjoy it, dammit!)

Well, okay then, I guess I'll see you all on Wednesday...ish.

Not your fault Gorky. I'm a slow reader. And I've stayed with your fics for the most part, but I'll be honest I haven't read them from the beginning. And I am more then halfway done with Layla's fic. I just can't read like 5 pages in one day, I don't have that long of an attention span  . But I do love all of the fics I've read recently. 

 

Originally posted by Venus:
I was writing my fic while at work today too.

We are horrible employees.

I wish I had a job just so I could slack off and write.