Application for Philip J. Fry

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

Fry rubs his forehead and takes stock of his surroundings, trying to remember if it’s normal that he has no idea how he got here.

“What is this, some kind of Disneyland planet?” He doesn’t see Leela or Bender or the Planet Express ship anywhere. “Guys?” Leaving him alone on a Disneyland planet is so not funny.



Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"

Fry jumps, but he definitely doesn’t scream when Mickey Mouse starts talking to him. “Uh, it’s Fry.” He eyes it suspiciously and takes a step back.

"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.

Oh, great, another one. What the hell is going on? “I don’t know,” he says defensively. “To deliver stuff?”

"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"

"Or," the Cat says, examining its tail with interest, "if you were a genie and someone you were trying to
give three wishes to was trying to trick you into giving him more, what would you say?"

These questions are hard. “This seems like the kind of thing that’s usually a trick question and then something bad happens and I learn a valuable lesson.” He pauses. “So I wish for a really cool job and a hot girlfriend and to be good at everything. And for the second question I guess it would be okay as long as he wasn’t trying to get better stuff than what I wished for.”

Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"

“Uh—I’m a brilliant war strategist.” Well, he played a lot of video games. “And I once was the emperor of an entire planet. So you should probably just give me food in hopes that I don’t turn on you.” It kinda seemed like they were buying it by the way nobody tried to contradict him, but it was hard to tell since no one seemed to be responding specifically to any of his answers. But he didn’t really feel like volunteering to be a delivery boy, and there was no way this could hurt in the long run. No way at all.

The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"

They’d bought it so much they were now offering him chocolate to placate him? Clearly he was a genius. “Milk chocolate’s fine. But actually, I’d really like some beer.”

"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"

Fry doesn’t seem particularly bothered by this question or the way his request for beer was seemingly ignored. “I dunno, I always liked robot sci fi movies best when I was younger, but where I come from now they’re kind of everywhere. But I guess the cool ones with laser blasters and time traveling and stuff are still pretty awesome, so I choose robots. And ninjas are pretty good, too. Hey, why hasn’t anyone ever made a movie about robot ninjas? Wouldn’t that be a great movie? It could have vampires, too, I guess.”

"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"

Wait, what did that mean? Did he need a sharp thing for his safety, or was he not supposed to have any sharp things? Why did people in the future always have to make everything so confusing? “Well,” he said, “whichever one you think I should be saying? You were right.” There. That should do it. He was really on top of it today.



((Fry is from Futurama, specifically sometime in the last season. Frankly it doesn't really matter where XD))

Comments

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

Han has to try really, really hard not to laugh when he approaches the newest applicant. He almost doesn't manage. "An emperor, huh?" he says in a not-quite-believing tone of voice.

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"Wow, Han Solo!" Fry is a simple kind of guy, and doesn't see why, if he's going to be in Disneyland, Han Solo shouldn't be here. His excitement is more akin to meeting a famous celebrity than to seeing a fictional character come to life.

Of course, some of his excitement abates when it becomes clear Han doesn't believe he was really the emperor of a planet. Which is unfair, because he really was. "Yes," insists Fry. "I was. But I quit because the job was getting kind of boring-slash-dangerous."

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

"That's me," says Han, apparently not at all put off by the enthusiastic reception. Why shouldn't people be excited to see him? "In the flesh."

Then Han raises an eyebrow skeptically. "You did?" he says. "Just like that? What did you do, tell all your subjects, 'It's been fun, but now I'm done being emperor so you guys are on your own.'?"

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"Well, the real emperor turned out to be not as dead as everyone thought," replies Fry. "So he sort of just took it up where I left off." He doesn't mention the parts where he was nearly assassinated and the entire planet tried to run him out violently, nor the part where he was only made emperor for accidentally killing the old emperor. They don't seem very important.

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

"I -- I see." Han isn't really sure he does see, actually, and he's still pretty convinced Fry is making this whole thing up. But he decides to humor the poor guy. "That must have been really convenient for you. The old guy showing up as soon as you decided you were tired of the job, I mean."

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"Oh, yeah," says Fry, who shudders at the sudden memory of all of his friends kicking the crap out of him so he'd cry the old emperor out of his body. "It was really convenient."

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

Han notices the shudder, but has absolutely no idea what it's supposed to mean. Maybe Fry is cold or something. "Right," he says slowly. "So what made them think he was dead in the first place?"

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"I drank him," says Fry. This conversation really wasn't going the way he wanted it to, and he's glad he always liked Star Trek better anyway. "By accident. It was a desert planet and he looked a lot like a water bottle."

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

"....You drank him?"

That's it. That's too much. Han starts laughing. Maybe this guy's not making it up. Maybe he's just nuts. Or under the influence.

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"Hey! It was a planet of water people, okay?" He rolled his eyes. "Like you've never been to a water people planet? It makes a lot more sense than Ewoks."

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

"That would be a viable argument if I was claiming to have eaten the head Ewok and become their emperor." Han's still laughing a little, and his shoulders are shaking.

"...So how did you get the old emperor, uh... back?" He's not sure he wants to know, but he can't resist asking.

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

No. There is no way he's going to tell Han Solo he had to cry the emperor out.

"Magic," he says instead.

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

Han lifts an eyebrow -- he doesn't believe this 'magic' business for a second -- but he can imagine how you get fluid out of someone -- sweat, tears, grosser bodily functions -- and since he doesn't exactly want to discuss the grosser bodily functions, he lets it go.

"Are all your adventures this bizarre?" the smuggler asks, even though he thinks he knows the answer.

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"Uh," Fry considers it. He's never found his life to be all that weird before, because that's the sort of person he is. He never fit in in the 20th century, so he managed to adjust to all of the strangeness of the 31st century easily. "I guess so? " Most people aren't cryogenically frozen for a millennium, and then there was that thing about his grandfather he wasn't even going to think about.

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

"You must have" -- a brilliant imagination -- "a very interesting life, then." Han can't help smirking.

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

Hah. Han Solo was telling him he led an interesting life. Sometimes Fry really wishes that he could see all of his old friends in the 20th century, and also that he had old friends in the 20th century, so that he could gloat about things like this.

"Why, thank you," he says cockily. "I'm just a humble interstellar delivery boy," oh, crap, he wasn't going to mention delivery boy, was he? "but I try."

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

"So are you going to start offering to deliver things for us around here?" Hans asks, genuinely curious. "I guess I should tell you you wouldn't get money for it. There's no currency here. You can get pretty much anything you want, and it just replaces itself. Well, except alcohol. Crowley hoardes that."

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"Wait, there's no career chips? And no money? Yes! I'm not a loser!" If there was no money, that meant the fact that he was flat broke didn't matter.

"Hang on, no alcohol?" That could be problematic. "Who is this Crowley guy?"

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

Han isn't sure how to take that. He looks a little stunned and says, "Well, I guess that's the optimistic way to look at it."

Han jerks a thumb in the general direction of New Orleans Square. "Businessman. Wears sunglasses. Lives at Club 33."

[icyweiner.livejournal.com]

"Right." Fry squares his jaw. "Well, I certainly hope he needs the services of a mediocre delivery boy."

[ishotfirst.livejournal.com]

Han severely doubted that but, deciding to be charitable, said, "Hey, you never know. Why not ask him?"