That was cute! 
[Fan Fiction] Mary Sue Stories
| Lady Tesser | 11-05-2003 05:38 PM |
Hee-hee-hee! That was lovely, tvperez!
| Zola | 11-05-2003 06:14 PM |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by s-girl The city of Paradigm would never be the same. |
Wow! Somehow I missed this one!
Good job, I liked it a lot!
Z
| Pygmalion | 11-05-2003 06:52 PM |
Why do I have the feeling that Tony's cubicle needs a "Why do you think they call it UNIX?" poster* ... or is there one already there?
* A punning poster marketed to a specific computer language's programmers showed an irate woman in short skirt and high heels as if dressed for an anticipated date, scowling at her male companion whose attention is absorbed in the computer, captioned "Why Do You Think They Call It UNIX?". [from http://eserver.org/bs/41/mosher.html]
Yes, this time Paradigm is all brown and wrinkly!
Nice piece, s-girl!
Pygmalion
Edit: Please do not double post. ~Pen1300
Sorry, Pen! Won't happen until next time! --Pyg
* A punning poster marketed to a specific computer language's programmers showed an irate woman in short skirt and high heels as if dressed for an anticipated date, scowling at her male companion whose attention is absorbed in the computer, captioned "Why Do You Think They Call It UNIX?". [from http://eserver.org/bs/41/mosher.html]
| quote: |
| Originally posted by s-girl The city of Paradigm would never be the same. |
Yes, this time Paradigm is all brown and wrinkly!
Nice piece, s-girl!
Pygmalion
Edit: Please do not double post. ~Pen1300
Sorry, Pen! Won't happen until next time! --Pyg
| Tony Waynewrong | 11-05-2003 06:58 PM |
Blast, foiled again. Pygmalion, you caught me!
| Lady Tesser | 11-05-2003 08:32 PM |
"Honest, I'm not a therapist," I said.
"Yeah, right," Norman snickered. "I'm only asking that you mediate a discussion between Master Roger and Miss Dorothy."
"He's a negotiator, that's his job."
"He's also a dithering rodent who would rather eat his tie than talk to Dorothy about anything."
"So?" I sighed, running my hand through my own China-Doll haircut. "He's just a typical Japanese male-hero who can't talk about his feelings. It doesn't matter - he expects everyone to know where he stands by his actions."
"He also believes I'm the only one who knows he uses shoulderpads in his jackets."
"Mm, yes, he's particularly dense about the obvious."
Norman patted my hand. "Miss Tess, I do think you could help them."
I gazed at the old man. "Why does it matter to you, Norman?"
He chuckled. "Because, frankly, I've grown tired of them bugging me with their inability to communicate. You have no idea how many times I wanted to slap Master Roger and tell him to take Dorothy into the bedroom and come out after he's sacrificed to her volcano."
I giggled. "Norman, you put it most succinctly."
"Besides which," he added, "I want some children to call me 'Grandpa' just once before I Pass On."
I raised an eyebrow. "That implies so many things on so many levels, I don't know where to begin."
"Chalk it up to 'willing suspension of disbelief', leave it for a sequel, and go take care of that idiot Roger."
I saluted him with a limp-wristed salute. "Yes, sir." I narrowed my eyes. "But talking to Roger requires combat pay."
"I'll make a beehive cake."
"Deal."
* * *
Dorothy sat quietly on the sofa while Roger paced back and forth in the parlor area.
"I don't need a negotiator," Roger muttered at me.
"Good," I replied brightly. "Then you can tell Dorothy everything without my help."
"Tell her what?" he asked.
Dorothy interrupted, "That he is a loathsome, perverse creature who drools on his pillow and makes disgusting noises. I already know that, Tess."
"I am not loathsome," Roger huffed. "And I don't drool!"
"So you're perverse?" I asked. "With what? Whipped cream and leather straps? Motor oil? Boys in sailor dresses? Triple-joined hermaphroditic Nigerian gymnists in Donald Duck costumes?"
Dorothy cracked a smile. Roger turned a cheery red color and snapped, "SHUT UP."
"You see how it is," Dorothy commented, the smile fading. "I once tried to help him in the middle of the night and - "
Roger began squawking and waving his arms around.
I sighed and threw a pillow at his head. "Grow up, Roger, we're the same age and you have less excuse. " He fumed and stood next to me, looking down at me.
"I have to ask that you leave," he said firmly.
I stood up and poked the tip of his nose. "Put your peacock feathers down, Curve-Butt, you ain't scarin' me. So - SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP."
He sat down next to Dorothy and continued to fume, staring daggers at me.
I sat back down and smiled in a blatantly phony way. "Now, my dears, we shall work through this problem."
Dorothy piped up with, "Are we finally admitting things that should have been admitted on several ocassions?"
"Yeah, that's the gist of it. Say whatever you want to Roger. If he begins to make fun of you or goes into a pole-up-his-arse opinion of you being an android, I'll kick him in the head."
Roger looked at my Roxanne Smith High Heels and sighed in defeat.
Dorothy turned to Roger. "You're a louse and you have a poor self-image, but I've loved you anyway because of your fierce principles and moral conscience."
Roger opened his mouth, then closed it.
"And you have a really cute behind," Dorothy added, finishing the statement with a cute smile.
His jaw dropped this time.
I chuckled. "Well, that throws the whole non-human theory out the window, funky eyebrow-boy."
He glared at me, then turned back to Dorothy. "I ... I don't know what to say."
Dorothy stared at him. "Roger, answer my question. If we lost our memories and had met, would we have fallen in love?"
I quietly got up and went across the room, giving them a bit of privacy. My presence was only needed to strengthen Dorothy's resolve to admit her feelings. I had an idea Roger would follow once he knew it was safe. Probably not so poetically, but he would do it.
After a moment, I turned back to see them sitting close together, their hands clasped tightly, and both staring deeply into the other's eyes.
I went into the kitchen and sat at the island where Norman was mixing up the cake.
"Well?" he asked.
"Got them going in the right direction, I think." I leaned on the island, holding my chin in my hands. "I know there could be so many other things I could meddle in here, but helping those two blend together is something I can live with."
Norman smiled enigmatically. "It all works out for the best in the end." He cleared his throat. "Negotiation result?"
"They Have Come to Terms." I raised my eyes as I heard a delightful squeal and the shutting of a door. "And the Terms aren't the only ones, it seems."
Norman almost spilled the cake batter while he laughed.
"Yeah, right," Norman snickered. "I'm only asking that you mediate a discussion between Master Roger and Miss Dorothy."
"He's a negotiator, that's his job."
"He's also a dithering rodent who would rather eat his tie than talk to Dorothy about anything."
"So?" I sighed, running my hand through my own China-Doll haircut. "He's just a typical Japanese male-hero who can't talk about his feelings. It doesn't matter - he expects everyone to know where he stands by his actions."
"He also believes I'm the only one who knows he uses shoulderpads in his jackets."
"Mm, yes, he's particularly dense about the obvious."
Norman patted my hand. "Miss Tess, I do think you could help them."
I gazed at the old man. "Why does it matter to you, Norman?"
He chuckled. "Because, frankly, I've grown tired of them bugging me with their inability to communicate. You have no idea how many times I wanted to slap Master Roger and tell him to take Dorothy into the bedroom and come out after he's sacrificed to her volcano."
I giggled. "Norman, you put it most succinctly."
"Besides which," he added, "I want some children to call me 'Grandpa' just once before I Pass On."
I raised an eyebrow. "That implies so many things on so many levels, I don't know where to begin."
"Chalk it up to 'willing suspension of disbelief', leave it for a sequel, and go take care of that idiot Roger."
I saluted him with a limp-wristed salute. "Yes, sir." I narrowed my eyes. "But talking to Roger requires combat pay."
"I'll make a beehive cake."
"Deal."
* * *
Dorothy sat quietly on the sofa while Roger paced back and forth in the parlor area.
"I don't need a negotiator," Roger muttered at me.
"Good," I replied brightly. "Then you can tell Dorothy everything without my help."
"Tell her what?" he asked.
Dorothy interrupted, "That he is a loathsome, perverse creature who drools on his pillow and makes disgusting noises. I already know that, Tess."
"I am not loathsome," Roger huffed. "And I don't drool!"
"So you're perverse?" I asked. "With what? Whipped cream and leather straps? Motor oil? Boys in sailor dresses? Triple-joined hermaphroditic Nigerian gymnists in Donald Duck costumes?"
Dorothy cracked a smile. Roger turned a cheery red color and snapped, "SHUT UP."
"You see how it is," Dorothy commented, the smile fading. "I once tried to help him in the middle of the night and - "
Roger began squawking and waving his arms around.
I sighed and threw a pillow at his head. "Grow up, Roger, we're the same age and you have less excuse. " He fumed and stood next to me, looking down at me.
"I have to ask that you leave," he said firmly.
I stood up and poked the tip of his nose. "Put your peacock feathers down, Curve-Butt, you ain't scarin' me. So - SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP."
He sat down next to Dorothy and continued to fume, staring daggers at me.
I sat back down and smiled in a blatantly phony way. "Now, my dears, we shall work through this problem."
Dorothy piped up with, "Are we finally admitting things that should have been admitted on several ocassions?"
"Yeah, that's the gist of it. Say whatever you want to Roger. If he begins to make fun of you or goes into a pole-up-his-arse opinion of you being an android, I'll kick him in the head."
Roger looked at my Roxanne Smith High Heels and sighed in defeat.
Dorothy turned to Roger. "You're a louse and you have a poor self-image, but I've loved you anyway because of your fierce principles and moral conscience."
Roger opened his mouth, then closed it.
"And you have a really cute behind," Dorothy added, finishing the statement with a cute smile.
His jaw dropped this time.
I chuckled. "Well, that throws the whole non-human theory out the window, funky eyebrow-boy."
He glared at me, then turned back to Dorothy. "I ... I don't know what to say."
Dorothy stared at him. "Roger, answer my question. If we lost our memories and had met, would we have fallen in love?"
I quietly got up and went across the room, giving them a bit of privacy. My presence was only needed to strengthen Dorothy's resolve to admit her feelings. I had an idea Roger would follow once he knew it was safe. Probably not so poetically, but he would do it.
After a moment, I turned back to see them sitting close together, their hands clasped tightly, and both staring deeply into the other's eyes.
I went into the kitchen and sat at the island where Norman was mixing up the cake.
"Well?" he asked.
"Got them going in the right direction, I think." I leaned on the island, holding my chin in my hands. "I know there could be so many other things I could meddle in here, but helping those two blend together is something I can live with."
Norman smiled enigmatically. "It all works out for the best in the end." He cleared his throat. "Negotiation result?"
"They Have Come to Terms." I raised my eyes as I heard a delightful squeal and the shutting of a door. "And the Terms aren't the only ones, it seems."
Norman almost spilled the cake batter while he laughed.
| Zola | 11-05-2003 08:36 PM |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by Lady Tesser "They Have Come to Terms." I raised my eyes as I heard a delightful squeal and the shutting of a door. "And the Terms aren't the only ones, it seems." Norman almost spilled the cake batter while he laughed. |
awwwwwwwwwwwww!
*Zola melts into a puddle*
| Pygmalion | 11-05-2003 08:38 PM |
| Tony Waynewrong | 11-05-2003 08:43 PM |
That's funny. Lady Tesser, welcome to the darkside.
| Falcon 7 | 11-05-2003 08:47 PM |
I thought with the mention of leather straps, that The Masochism Tango seemed more appropriate. I do love a good dance number.
That was a funny story, Lady Tesser.
That was a funny story, Lady Tesser.
| Lady Tesser | 11-05-2003 09:16 PM |
I try not to get banned, folks. Although the use of 'self-cleaning pornography' is a fun way to make people's hair stand on end.
(BTW - I already have those songs. I rather enjoy 'It Makes a Fella Proud to be a Soldier'.)
(BTW - I already have those songs. I rather enjoy 'It Makes a Fella Proud to be a Soldier'.)
| Tony Waynewrong | 11-06-2003 03:51 PM |
Hi all. Thank Zola for her editing.
The scene takes place at Paradigm-City AI Software Engineering Department.
Tony: ** Walking into his cubicle and giving his co-workers a wave with his left hand, since his right arm is in a sling. ** Hi guys.
Luis: Hi Tony. Your arm is in a sling, yet you have a smile on your face.
Did you go out with that linebacker?
Zola: ** Head emerging from her cubicle. ** That's right? How's the team?
**Once again, Zola and Luis are laughing uncontrollably. **
Tony: ** Getting frustrated. ** Ha Ha. I only dislocated my shoulder; the doc put it back in place. Do you want me to tell you about our date, or what?
**Once again, Zola and Luis finally settle down to listen. **
Zola: ** Barely containing her laughter ** OK! OK! It's story time.
Luis: ** Sarcastically ** Shhhhh. I got to hear this.
Tony: ** Trying to get their attention. ** Come on, I am trying to tell you what happened. ** Pause's briefly ** OK, I gave Dorothy a call, and this old guy picked up.
Zola: ** Giggling ** Are you sure it wasn't her?
Luis: ** Bursts into laughter **
Tony: ** Sarcastically ** Funny, Zola. Hey, don't you have meeting at 9?
Zola: ** Suddenly looking worried ** Damn. Gotta run. ** She runs down the hall. **
Luis: ** Whispering ** I thought that meeting was for tomorrow.
Tony: ** Smiling ** It is. This will give me a moment to tell my story.
Luis: Go ahead. You were saying.
Tony: Well, this old guy told me that Dorothy was busy. I had to practically beg him to give Dorothy the phone.
Luis: Really? So, what happened?
Tony: Well, we set our date for 8. I wanted to take her to a movie, but she had something else in mind. After an hour of talking...
** The scene fades to Shoreline Dome, Central Park. Dorothy is wearing a black sweater and black jeans. **
Tony: ** Walking beside Dorothy. ** What made you want to come out here?
Dorothy: ** Turning to face Tony. ** Do you want to do something else?
Tony: ** Nervously. ** No, this is fine. I just thought that you might want to do something else.
** Suddenly, grunge music can be heard. **
Dorothy: ** Interested. ** What sort of music is that? I never heard something so rough.
Tony: ** Smiling ** Oh, they are playing some classic stuff. It sounds like a tribute band is playing.
Dorothy: ** Caught off guard. ** Tribute band?
Tony: Yeah, it's like....like...well, you know when you play your piano renditions, aren't you trying to play the music exactly as the composer intended? You could say you are paying tribute to their greatness.
Dorothy: ** Still Perplexed. ** So, they are playing as if they were the creators?
Tony: Yeah, sort of, I guess. Do you want to see the performers in action?
**Cut back to the office**
Zola: ** Sarcastically. ** You took her to the grunge concert in Central Park. *coughcough*Cheap!*coughcough*
Tony: ** Frustrated ** Didn't I get rid of you a minute ago. Geez!
Luis: ** Smiling ** Go right ahead.
Tony: Like I was saying...
** Cut to Tony and Dorothy trying to make their way through the crowd, towards the makeshift concert stage. About 200 people are cheering and the music is blaring. **
Tony: ** Trying to yell though the music and cheers. ** This is intense.
Dorothy: ** With a conspicuous smile. ** I like it. ** Moments later **
Singer: ** Yelling ** Rape me, again. I'm not the only one!
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** Why is he asking to be raped? Isn't asking for sex considered consensual sex? How can it be rape?
Tony: ** Trying to conceal his laughter. ** Dorothy, it's just a song. Try not to take things so literally.
Dorothy: ** Still perplexed. ** So, he is not asking for sex?
Tony: ** Unable to conceal his laughter. ** Dorothy, that's what I like about you: Your innocence.
Dorothy: ** Smiling **
**Towards the ending of the concert, members of the audience started climbing onto the stage and jumping off.**
Dorothy: ** Pointing at the stage. ** What are they doing? They are going to hurt themselves.
Tony: ** In amazement. ** Nah! They are trying to float on top of the crowd. ** Helping float some person by. ** You see.
Dorothy: ** Interested. ** That is fascinating.
Tony: Go ahead, try it.
Dorothy: ** Climbing on top of the stage. ** ** Yelling toward Tony. ** I don't know.
Tony: Don't worry. I'll catch you!
** Dorothy jumps out of the stage on to Tony and the surrounding crowd. Dorothy ends up on top of Tony. The rest of the crowd is laughing, but it's in good fun. **
Tony: ** Trying to yell. ** Ahhhhhh! Dude, you're heavy. Need air!!!
Dorothy: ** Apologetic ** I am sorry. I failed to mention that I weigh more than the average person. **A couple of people good-naturedly help her off of him**
Tony: ** Trying to mask his pain ** No problem. ** His shoulder seems to be at a slightly odd angle ** Ow, I think I pulled it.
Dorothy: ** Still Apologetic ** I'm sorry. I think we should take you to a doctor.
Tony: ** Getting up from the ground. ** No problem. ** Pretending it doesn't hurt too much ** I can take anything.
Dorothy: ** looking relieved. ** Let's continue our walk.
**Cut back to the office**
Zola: ** Laughing. ** You got flattened by your date.
Luis: ** Also Laughing. ** That was smooth, dude!
Tony: ** Ignoring their taunts ** Anyways, we left the concert, and headed towards my car!
** Cut to Tony and Dorothy trying to make they're way through the crowd, towards the park's walkway. Tony is still nursing his shoulder. **
Dorothy: ** Concerned ** Are you OK?
Tony: ** Proudly. ** Sure, takes more than a flying android to get me down.
Dorothy: But, you were down.
Tony: ** Blushing. ** Well, it was only a figure of speech. ** Brief pause. ** So, tell me more about your relationship with Roger.
Dorothy: Well, I work for him. He protects me. I protect him.
Tony: ** Hoping for more. ** And? Do you like him, like him. Or just, well, like him.
Dorothy: ** Perplexed ** I don't know what you mean?
Tony: Do you love him? Like! You know... You know, enough to sacrifice your life...err...existence for him
Dorothy: ** Confused ** If you are asking if I have strong feelings for him, I... I believe so. Yes, I would face termination for him.
Tony: So, what's keeping you from locking the deal with him?
Dorothy: ** Still confused. ** Locking the deal?
Tony: ** Clarifying ** Marriage! You know, walking down the aisle and all that stuff.
Dorothy: ** Showing a hint of somberness ** I am unaware if he shares the same feeling for me.
Tony: ** Stopping to stare at Dorothy. ** I am sure he does. Heck, didn't you say that he saved you a few times? Sounds like he cares to me.
Dorothy: ** Stopping with Tony. Still looking confused ** Well, it is in his nature to be helpful.
Tony: ** Smiling ** Why don't you test him out? Give him the whole jealousy trip?
Dorothy: ** Intrigued. ** What is a 'jealousy trip'?
Tony: Well, it is when you date somebody else so that you can determine if the one you love becomes jealous. If so, that means that he cares for you in a romantic sense.
Dorothy: ** Interested. ** How do I go about doing so?
Tony: ** Smirking ** Leave the details to me.
** Cut back to the office **
Zola: ** Shocked ** Please explain one thing to me. Why are you helping a girl that you are interested in, to hook up with another man?
Luis: ** Looking at Tony strangely ** Yeah, that makes no sense to me.
Tony: ** Defensively ** She's a nice girl and I like her a lot. Sure, I am interested, but you should have seen her face the first time she mentioned this Roger dude. It seemed to me that what she really needs most is a friend.
Zola: ** Sarcastically ** Right! Well, Cupid, I have to get back to
work. I hope that you didn't suffer any head trauma when she landed on you.
Tony: ** Angrily ** By all means, Zola. Don't let me keep you from your work! ** Turning to Luis ** What do you think about the whole thing?
Luis: Well, whatever gets you a second date. ** Smiles ** Man, I've got to get back to work too. You know how Angel is, she's a slave driver.
Tony: Later, dude. ** Holds up a card that says "Roger Smith, Negotiator" ** **Laughing to himself** Well, Roger the Negotiator, prepare to be vanquished.
** Cut to Tony sitting in the break room the next day. There is a newspaper on the table. On the front page is a picture of a the concert the night before with the headline "Android crushes human in concert". Tony looks at it and smiles**
Tony: They'll print anything these days.
The scene takes place at Paradigm-City AI Software Engineering Department.
Tony: ** Walking into his cubicle and giving his co-workers a wave with his left hand, since his right arm is in a sling. ** Hi guys.
Luis: Hi Tony. Your arm is in a sling, yet you have a smile on your face.
Did you go out with that linebacker?
Zola: ** Head emerging from her cubicle. ** That's right? How's the team?
**Once again, Zola and Luis are laughing uncontrollably. **
Tony: ** Getting frustrated. ** Ha Ha. I only dislocated my shoulder; the doc put it back in place. Do you want me to tell you about our date, or what?
**Once again, Zola and Luis finally settle down to listen. **
Zola: ** Barely containing her laughter ** OK! OK! It's story time.
Luis: ** Sarcastically ** Shhhhh. I got to hear this.
Tony: ** Trying to get their attention. ** Come on, I am trying to tell you what happened. ** Pause's briefly ** OK, I gave Dorothy a call, and this old guy picked up.
Zola: ** Giggling ** Are you sure it wasn't her?
Luis: ** Bursts into laughter **
Tony: ** Sarcastically ** Funny, Zola. Hey, don't you have meeting at 9?
Zola: ** Suddenly looking worried ** Damn. Gotta run. ** She runs down the hall. **
Luis: ** Whispering ** I thought that meeting was for tomorrow.
Tony: ** Smiling ** It is. This will give me a moment to tell my story.
Luis: Go ahead. You were saying.
Tony: Well, this old guy told me that Dorothy was busy. I had to practically beg him to give Dorothy the phone.
Luis: Really? So, what happened?
Tony: Well, we set our date for 8. I wanted to take her to a movie, but she had something else in mind. After an hour of talking...
** The scene fades to Shoreline Dome, Central Park. Dorothy is wearing a black sweater and black jeans. **
Tony: ** Walking beside Dorothy. ** What made you want to come out here?
Dorothy: ** Turning to face Tony. ** Do you want to do something else?
Tony: ** Nervously. ** No, this is fine. I just thought that you might want to do something else.
** Suddenly, grunge music can be heard. **
Dorothy: ** Interested. ** What sort of music is that? I never heard something so rough.
Tony: ** Smiling ** Oh, they are playing some classic stuff. It sounds like a tribute band is playing.
Dorothy: ** Caught off guard. ** Tribute band?
Tony: Yeah, it's like....like...well, you know when you play your piano renditions, aren't you trying to play the music exactly as the composer intended? You could say you are paying tribute to their greatness.
Dorothy: ** Still Perplexed. ** So, they are playing as if they were the creators?
Tony: Yeah, sort of, I guess. Do you want to see the performers in action?
**Cut back to the office**
Zola: ** Sarcastically. ** You took her to the grunge concert in Central Park. *coughcough*Cheap!*coughcough*
Tony: ** Frustrated ** Didn't I get rid of you a minute ago. Geez!
Luis: ** Smiling ** Go right ahead.
Tony: Like I was saying...
** Cut to Tony and Dorothy trying to make their way through the crowd, towards the makeshift concert stage. About 200 people are cheering and the music is blaring. **
Tony: ** Trying to yell though the music and cheers. ** This is intense.
Dorothy: ** With a conspicuous smile. ** I like it. ** Moments later **
Singer: ** Yelling ** Rape me, again. I'm not the only one!
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** Why is he asking to be raped? Isn't asking for sex considered consensual sex? How can it be rape?
Tony: ** Trying to conceal his laughter. ** Dorothy, it's just a song. Try not to take things so literally.
Dorothy: ** Still perplexed. ** So, he is not asking for sex?
Tony: ** Unable to conceal his laughter. ** Dorothy, that's what I like about you: Your innocence.
Dorothy: ** Smiling **
**Towards the ending of the concert, members of the audience started climbing onto the stage and jumping off.**
Dorothy: ** Pointing at the stage. ** What are they doing? They are going to hurt themselves.
Tony: ** In amazement. ** Nah! They are trying to float on top of the crowd. ** Helping float some person by. ** You see.
Dorothy: ** Interested. ** That is fascinating.
Tony: Go ahead, try it.
Dorothy: ** Climbing on top of the stage. ** ** Yelling toward Tony. ** I don't know.
Tony: Don't worry. I'll catch you!
** Dorothy jumps out of the stage on to Tony and the surrounding crowd. Dorothy ends up on top of Tony. The rest of the crowd is laughing, but it's in good fun. **
Tony: ** Trying to yell. ** Ahhhhhh! Dude, you're heavy. Need air!!!
Dorothy: ** Apologetic ** I am sorry. I failed to mention that I weigh more than the average person. **A couple of people good-naturedly help her off of him**
Tony: ** Trying to mask his pain ** No problem. ** His shoulder seems to be at a slightly odd angle ** Ow, I think I pulled it.
Dorothy: ** Still Apologetic ** I'm sorry. I think we should take you to a doctor.
Tony: ** Getting up from the ground. ** No problem. ** Pretending it doesn't hurt too much ** I can take anything.
Dorothy: ** looking relieved. ** Let's continue our walk.
**Cut back to the office**
Zola: ** Laughing. ** You got flattened by your date.
Luis: ** Also Laughing. ** That was smooth, dude!
Tony: ** Ignoring their taunts ** Anyways, we left the concert, and headed towards my car!
** Cut to Tony and Dorothy trying to make they're way through the crowd, towards the park's walkway. Tony is still nursing his shoulder. **
Dorothy: ** Concerned ** Are you OK?
Tony: ** Proudly. ** Sure, takes more than a flying android to get me down.
Dorothy: But, you were down.
Tony: ** Blushing. ** Well, it was only a figure of speech. ** Brief pause. ** So, tell me more about your relationship with Roger.
Dorothy: Well, I work for him. He protects me. I protect him.
Tony: ** Hoping for more. ** And? Do you like him, like him. Or just, well, like him.
Dorothy: ** Perplexed ** I don't know what you mean?
Tony: Do you love him? Like! You know... You know, enough to sacrifice your life...err...existence for him
Dorothy: ** Confused ** If you are asking if I have strong feelings for him, I... I believe so. Yes, I would face termination for him.
Tony: So, what's keeping you from locking the deal with him?
Dorothy: ** Still confused. ** Locking the deal?
Tony: ** Clarifying ** Marriage! You know, walking down the aisle and all that stuff.
Dorothy: ** Showing a hint of somberness ** I am unaware if he shares the same feeling for me.
Tony: ** Stopping to stare at Dorothy. ** I am sure he does. Heck, didn't you say that he saved you a few times? Sounds like he cares to me.
Dorothy: ** Stopping with Tony. Still looking confused ** Well, it is in his nature to be helpful.
Tony: ** Smiling ** Why don't you test him out? Give him the whole jealousy trip?
Dorothy: ** Intrigued. ** What is a 'jealousy trip'?
Tony: Well, it is when you date somebody else so that you can determine if the one you love becomes jealous. If so, that means that he cares for you in a romantic sense.
Dorothy: ** Interested. ** How do I go about doing so?
Tony: ** Smirking ** Leave the details to me.
** Cut back to the office **
Zola: ** Shocked ** Please explain one thing to me. Why are you helping a girl that you are interested in, to hook up with another man?
Luis: ** Looking at Tony strangely ** Yeah, that makes no sense to me.
Tony: ** Defensively ** She's a nice girl and I like her a lot. Sure, I am interested, but you should have seen her face the first time she mentioned this Roger dude. It seemed to me that what she really needs most is a friend.
Zola: ** Sarcastically ** Right! Well, Cupid, I have to get back to
work. I hope that you didn't suffer any head trauma when she landed on you.
Tony: ** Angrily ** By all means, Zola. Don't let me keep you from your work! ** Turning to Luis ** What do you think about the whole thing?
Luis: Well, whatever gets you a second date. ** Smiles ** Man, I've got to get back to work too. You know how Angel is, she's a slave driver.
Tony: Later, dude. ** Holds up a card that says "Roger Smith, Negotiator" ** **Laughing to himself** Well, Roger the Negotiator, prepare to be vanquished.
** Cut to Tony sitting in the break room the next day. There is a newspaper on the table. On the front page is a picture of a the concert the night before with the headline "Android crushes human in concert". Tony looks at it and smiles**
Tony: They'll print anything these days.
| Lady Tesser | 11-06-2003 04:50 PM |
Good going, dude. If you've seen the manga 'My Sweetheart Dorothy', Roger doesn't get jealous. You'll have to make it quite obvious your intentions and even rub Roger's face in it.
Just offering some very unwarranted advice. ^_^
Just offering some very unwarranted advice. ^_^
| Advinius | 11-06-2003 05:15 PM |
where might a body find such a manga, perhaps? *charming smile*
| Pygmalion | 11-06-2003 05:37 PM |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by Advinius where might a body find such a manga, perhaps? *charming smile* |
Big O #3 graphic novel, pg. 52. Powell's in Portland had it when we were up there a few weeks ago.
There may a Borders or other bookstore closer to you that has it, too.
Pygmalion
| Tony Waynewrong | 11-06-2003 06:00 PM |
Thanks, Lady Tesser. I appreciate it. I will post the next one tomorrow.
| Tony Waynewrong | 11-07-2003 09:23 PM |
Hi all. Thank Zola for her editing.
---
The scene takes place at Paradigm-City AI Software Engineering Department.
Tony: ** Walking into his cubicle with his usual wave for his coworkers. He is carrying a backpack.** Hi guys.
Luis: Hi Tony. Where have you been for the last three days? Did you go out with that linebacker?
Zola: ** Head emerging from her cubicle. ** That's right, you had a date with Robo-Crush-Tony-to-Death-Maid, didn't you?
**Zola and Luis are laughing uncontrollably.**
Tony: ** Smiling. ** Ha Ha. Very funny! Oh, tell Falcon7 that I will drop off his car later tonight. ** Pulling a CD from his backpack. ** And as a thank-you for your powers of persuasion, here you go.
Zola: ** Intrigued. ** What is that?
Tony: The source code for Project ARA. It's due in two weeks,if you catch my drift.
Zola: ** Smiling ** Ah, A two week vacation. I hope it was worth it.
Luis: ** Anxious. ** What about me? Don't I get anything? It was my uncle that made you that suit, you know.
Tony: ** Turning to Luis. ** A hearty handshake for you.
Luis: ** Sarcastic ** Gee, thanks.
Tony: ** Smiling. ** And four tickets to Parapalooza.
Zola: ** Laughing. ** Woo-hoo Luis! You have to share.
Luis: ** Curiously. ** Really, why do you want a Blues Brothers suit?
Tony: ** Proudly. ** It's identical to Roger's entire wardrobe. I asked Dorothy for it.
Luis: ** Surprised. ** Wow, you really went through the whole thing, didn't you?
Zola: ** Just as surprised. ** Yeah, what gives? Why did you ask for my boyfriend's car?
Tony: ** Looking at both of them. ** Guys, I am a man with a mission. And the story goes like this...
** In front of the Smith Mansion. Tony, dressed in his "Negotiator" suit is pressing the intercom button. **
Norman's voice: Yes, may I help you?
Tony: *Nervous* Excuse me, sir. I believe that I have an appointment. My name is Tony Perez.
Norman's voice: * A buzzing noise can be heard. Tony opens the door.* Master Roger will see you.
Tony: *Walking into the building.* Geez, Louise. Would you look at this place! **Staring ** Even has an elevator.
*The elevator door opens and Tony sees an elderly gentleman standing by the control console. *
Norman: *Noticing that Tony has frozen in place and trying to hide his smile at Tony's attire * Please step this way, sir.
Tony: *Giving Norman a nervous smile* Thank you. *Steps inside* Wow, nice elevator.
*Norman leads him to the study.*
Norman: Master Roger will see you in a moment.
Tony: *Frantically* No. No. I am not here to see Roger. I am here for Dorothy.
Norman: *Surprised* Dorothy? *Smirking vaguely* I will summon her.
** After what seems like hours, Dorothy enters the room wearing a
form-fitting black dress, with black elbow length opera gloves**
Dorothy: Hello Tony. You look very nice today.
Tony: *Barely able to contain his excitement * Dorothy, you look stunning! Shall we hit the town?
Dorothy: *Actually smiling* Sure, I would love to.
**They return to the elevator. Roger is blocking the doors.**
Roger: Where do you think you're going, Dorothy?
Dorothy: Roger, you are such a louse, where are your manners? Roger, this is Tony Perez. **Turning to Tony** Tony, this is Roger Smith.
Roger: ** Looking at Tony's identical suit with one eyebrow raised ** Nice suit. ** Turns his attention to Dorothy. ** You're going out tonight? With him?
Tony: ** Trying to muster some courage. ** Why, do you have a problem with it?
Dorothy: ** Expressionless. ** I don't interfere with your outings. Why are you so interested in mine?
Roger: ** Nervously. ** That's business!
Dorothy: I am sure that Angel would disagree. ** Turning her attention to Tony. ** Shall we?
Tony: ** Sarcastic. ** Don't wait up! ** Smiles and winks at Roger **
**As they get into the elevator, they hear the sounds of something breaking**
Norman: **in the background** I'll get that, Master Roger.
Tony: ** Looking at the ceiling ** Wow, he sure didn't like you mentioning that Angel girl.
Dorothy: Apparently. Are you sure this is the best way to get his attention?
Tony: ** Smiling. ** We'll have him eating from the palm of your hand in no time.
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** Is that what I want him to do?
Tony: ** With a devilish grin, nods his head. **
** Dorothy notices the new Corvette as soon as they leave the mansion**
Dorothy: Is that yours?
Tony: Nah, I borrowed it from Falcon7. He'll kill me if I scratch it, but it will help Roger realize he's not the only guy in town with a nice set of wheels.
Dorothy: ** Looks up and realizes Roger is watching from the window. ** He's looking at us.
Tony: ** Smiling ** I know. Act happy. ** He puts his arm around her, and gives her a kiss on the cheek, making a point of opening the car door in a gentlemanly fashion. **
**Dorothy actually laughs and Tony joins in, flooring the gas pedal and pulling away from the curb with plenty of smoke and noise**
Tony: ** Looking at Dorothy. ** I told you. ** A brief pause ** Is there anywhere you'd like to go?
Dorothy: I am new to this. Please proceed to where you normally take your dates.
Tony: Well, this is my first one in a long time, but I have an idea.
** Cut to Tony and Dorothy exiting the car.**
Tony: ** Smiling ** Here we are, Chez Rosewater.
Dorothy: ** Displaying a hint of hesitation. ** I don't think Roger will approve.
Tony: ** Looking at Dorothy. ** You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs?
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** You're comparing Roger to an omelet? I don't want to break him, and I don't want to eat him, either.
Tony: ** Laughing. ** It's just an expression, don't take it literally. Besides, this is just about guaranteed to catch his attention.
** They make their way into the club. Tony and Dorothy are seated in the VIP section. Alex Rosewater, Alan and Angel can be seen sitting in a table next to them. **
Dorothy: ** Trying to mask her surprise ** Tony, this section is reserved for Paradigm VIPs only. How did you get us in here?
Tony: ** Smiling. ** I'm the reigning programming champion. The grand prize is a VIP Pass to this joint. Normally, I wouldn't set foot here, but tonight's a special case.
Dorothy: ** Noticing that Angel was staring at her. ** Tony, I don't know if I should be here.
** Angel stands and approaches Dorothy and Tony. **
Angel: ** Sarcastically. ** Well, Dorothy, how are you? ** Looking at Tony. ** My name is Angel. And you?
Tony: ** Proudly. ** My name is Tony Perez. I am one of your senior developers.
Angel: ** Pretending it means something to her ** Oh, right! Tony! Well, nice to see you two love birds here. Sorry, I have to run. Tell Roger I said hi.
Dorothy: ** Nods in acknowledgement and waiting until Angel is out of earshot. ** I believe that she is enjoying this.
Tony: ** Smiling. ** Don't worry. If she is as predictable as I believe, she'll be telling Roger all about it in 5 minutes.
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** Is that why we are here?
Tony: ** Trying to contain his excitement. ** Well, it is one of the reasons. Want to dance?
Dorothy: If you think that would help. Yes, I would like to.
** Tony and Dorothy makes their way to the dance floor. Tony' starts moving his feet around, trying to hide the fact that he is clueless about dancing. To his relief, a slow song comes on. **
Tony: ** Trying to make conversation. ** You dance wonderfully.
Dorothy: ** Still worrying about Angel. ** Thank you. I am programmed in 25 different dance moves.
Tony: ** Intrigued. ** Really, what other dance moves do you know?
Dorothy: ** Finally, looking at Tony. ** Well, I know how to Tango. ** She starts dancing the tango, sweeping Tony off his feet. **
Tony: ** Trying to get her to stop. ** I need something to drink.
**They stay at the club for a couple more hours, dancing to a few of the slow songs and talking.**
Tony: I think that's long enough. Are you ready to get going?
Dorothy: **Seeming a little relieved** Yes, let's go.
** Tony and Dorothy make their way back to the car.**
Tony: ** Holding the car keys in his hand. ** Hey Dorothy, have you ever driven a sports car before? You know how to drive, don't you?
Dorothy: ** Staring at the keys. ** I know how, but I haven't gotten much of a chance, unless you count steering a car with my foot while standing on the hood.
**Cut back to the office**
Zola: ** Angry ** What! You let that...that glorified household appliance drive Falcon7's car?
Luis: ** Laughing ** Don't tell me you guys were the ones that got caught parking? I heard something about it on my police scanner!
Tony: ** Smiling. ** Wait up, guys. Let me finish!
Zola: ** Yelling. ** That is the last time I do a favor for you. I'm calling Falcon7.
Tony: ** Staring at her viciously. ** Go right, ahead! Wow, look at the time! I have to get to work!
Luis: ** Intrigued ** What, you're leaving just before you get to the juicy part? Come on, Tony! Give!
Zola: Yeah, I want to hear about how she wrecked the car!
Tony: ** Proudly ** Nah, I really have to go. I'll finish the story at lunch! ** Smiles. **
---
The scene takes place at Paradigm-City AI Software Engineering Department.
Tony: ** Walking into his cubicle with his usual wave for his coworkers. He is carrying a backpack.** Hi guys.
Luis: Hi Tony. Where have you been for the last three days? Did you go out with that linebacker?
Zola: ** Head emerging from her cubicle. ** That's right, you had a date with Robo-Crush-Tony-to-Death-Maid, didn't you?
**Zola and Luis are laughing uncontrollably.**
Tony: ** Smiling. ** Ha Ha. Very funny! Oh, tell Falcon7 that I will drop off his car later tonight. ** Pulling a CD from his backpack. ** And as a thank-you for your powers of persuasion, here you go.
Zola: ** Intrigued. ** What is that?
Tony: The source code for Project ARA. It's due in two weeks,if you catch my drift.
Zola: ** Smiling ** Ah, A two week vacation. I hope it was worth it.
Luis: ** Anxious. ** What about me? Don't I get anything? It was my uncle that made you that suit, you know.
Tony: ** Turning to Luis. ** A hearty handshake for you.
Luis: ** Sarcastic ** Gee, thanks.
Tony: ** Smiling. ** And four tickets to Parapalooza.
Zola: ** Laughing. ** Woo-hoo Luis! You have to share.
Luis: ** Curiously. ** Really, why do you want a Blues Brothers suit?
Tony: ** Proudly. ** It's identical to Roger's entire wardrobe. I asked Dorothy for it.
Luis: ** Surprised. ** Wow, you really went through the whole thing, didn't you?
Zola: ** Just as surprised. ** Yeah, what gives? Why did you ask for my boyfriend's car?
Tony: ** Looking at both of them. ** Guys, I am a man with a mission. And the story goes like this...
** In front of the Smith Mansion. Tony, dressed in his "Negotiator" suit is pressing the intercom button. **
Norman's voice: Yes, may I help you?
Tony: *Nervous* Excuse me, sir. I believe that I have an appointment. My name is Tony Perez.
Norman's voice: * A buzzing noise can be heard. Tony opens the door.* Master Roger will see you.
Tony: *Walking into the building.* Geez, Louise. Would you look at this place! **Staring ** Even has an elevator.
*The elevator door opens and Tony sees an elderly gentleman standing by the control console. *
Norman: *Noticing that Tony has frozen in place and trying to hide his smile at Tony's attire * Please step this way, sir.
Tony: *Giving Norman a nervous smile* Thank you. *Steps inside* Wow, nice elevator.
*Norman leads him to the study.*
Norman: Master Roger will see you in a moment.
Tony: *Frantically* No. No. I am not here to see Roger. I am here for Dorothy.
Norman: *Surprised* Dorothy? *Smirking vaguely* I will summon her.
** After what seems like hours, Dorothy enters the room wearing a
form-fitting black dress, with black elbow length opera gloves**
Dorothy: Hello Tony. You look very nice today.
Tony: *Barely able to contain his excitement * Dorothy, you look stunning! Shall we hit the town?
Dorothy: *Actually smiling* Sure, I would love to.
**They return to the elevator. Roger is blocking the doors.**
Roger: Where do you think you're going, Dorothy?
Dorothy: Roger, you are such a louse, where are your manners? Roger, this is Tony Perez. **Turning to Tony** Tony, this is Roger Smith.
Roger: ** Looking at Tony's identical suit with one eyebrow raised ** Nice suit. ** Turns his attention to Dorothy. ** You're going out tonight? With him?
Tony: ** Trying to muster some courage. ** Why, do you have a problem with it?
Dorothy: ** Expressionless. ** I don't interfere with your outings. Why are you so interested in mine?
Roger: ** Nervously. ** That's business!
Dorothy: I am sure that Angel would disagree. ** Turning her attention to Tony. ** Shall we?
Tony: ** Sarcastic. ** Don't wait up! ** Smiles and winks at Roger **
**As they get into the elevator, they hear the sounds of something breaking**
Norman: **in the background** I'll get that, Master Roger.
Tony: ** Looking at the ceiling ** Wow, he sure didn't like you mentioning that Angel girl.
Dorothy: Apparently. Are you sure this is the best way to get his attention?
Tony: ** Smiling. ** We'll have him eating from the palm of your hand in no time.
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** Is that what I want him to do?
Tony: ** With a devilish grin, nods his head. **
** Dorothy notices the new Corvette as soon as they leave the mansion**
Dorothy: Is that yours?
Tony: Nah, I borrowed it from Falcon7. He'll kill me if I scratch it, but it will help Roger realize he's not the only guy in town with a nice set of wheels.
Dorothy: ** Looks up and realizes Roger is watching from the window. ** He's looking at us.
Tony: ** Smiling ** I know. Act happy. ** He puts his arm around her, and gives her a kiss on the cheek, making a point of opening the car door in a gentlemanly fashion. **
**Dorothy actually laughs and Tony joins in, flooring the gas pedal and pulling away from the curb with plenty of smoke and noise**
Tony: ** Looking at Dorothy. ** I told you. ** A brief pause ** Is there anywhere you'd like to go?
Dorothy: I am new to this. Please proceed to where you normally take your dates.
Tony: Well, this is my first one in a long time, but I have an idea.
** Cut to Tony and Dorothy exiting the car.**
Tony: ** Smiling ** Here we are, Chez Rosewater.
Dorothy: ** Displaying a hint of hesitation. ** I don't think Roger will approve.
Tony: ** Looking at Dorothy. ** You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs?
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** You're comparing Roger to an omelet? I don't want to break him, and I don't want to eat him, either.
Tony: ** Laughing. ** It's just an expression, don't take it literally. Besides, this is just about guaranteed to catch his attention.
** They make their way into the club. Tony and Dorothy are seated in the VIP section. Alex Rosewater, Alan and Angel can be seen sitting in a table next to them. **
Dorothy: ** Trying to mask her surprise ** Tony, this section is reserved for Paradigm VIPs only. How did you get us in here?
Tony: ** Smiling. ** I'm the reigning programming champion. The grand prize is a VIP Pass to this joint. Normally, I wouldn't set foot here, but tonight's a special case.
Dorothy: ** Noticing that Angel was staring at her. ** Tony, I don't know if I should be here.
** Angel stands and approaches Dorothy and Tony. **
Angel: ** Sarcastically. ** Well, Dorothy, how are you? ** Looking at Tony. ** My name is Angel. And you?
Tony: ** Proudly. ** My name is Tony Perez. I am one of your senior developers.
Angel: ** Pretending it means something to her ** Oh, right! Tony! Well, nice to see you two love birds here. Sorry, I have to run. Tell Roger I said hi.
Dorothy: ** Nods in acknowledgement and waiting until Angel is out of earshot. ** I believe that she is enjoying this.
Tony: ** Smiling. ** Don't worry. If she is as predictable as I believe, she'll be telling Roger all about it in 5 minutes.
Dorothy: ** Perplexed. ** Is that why we are here?
Tony: ** Trying to contain his excitement. ** Well, it is one of the reasons. Want to dance?
Dorothy: If you think that would help. Yes, I would like to.
** Tony and Dorothy makes their way to the dance floor. Tony' starts moving his feet around, trying to hide the fact that he is clueless about dancing. To his relief, a slow song comes on. **
Tony: ** Trying to make conversation. ** You dance wonderfully.
Dorothy: ** Still worrying about Angel. ** Thank you. I am programmed in 25 different dance moves.
Tony: ** Intrigued. ** Really, what other dance moves do you know?
Dorothy: ** Finally, looking at Tony. ** Well, I know how to Tango. ** She starts dancing the tango, sweeping Tony off his feet. **
Tony: ** Trying to get her to stop. ** I need something to drink.
**They stay at the club for a couple more hours, dancing to a few of the slow songs and talking.**
Tony: I think that's long enough. Are you ready to get going?
Dorothy: **Seeming a little relieved** Yes, let's go.
** Tony and Dorothy make their way back to the car.**
Tony: ** Holding the car keys in his hand. ** Hey Dorothy, have you ever driven a sports car before? You know how to drive, don't you?
Dorothy: ** Staring at the keys. ** I know how, but I haven't gotten much of a chance, unless you count steering a car with my foot while standing on the hood.
**Cut back to the office**
Zola: ** Angry ** What! You let that...that glorified household appliance drive Falcon7's car?
Luis: ** Laughing ** Don't tell me you guys were the ones that got caught parking? I heard something about it on my police scanner!
Tony: ** Smiling. ** Wait up, guys. Let me finish!
Zola: ** Yelling. ** That is the last time I do a favor for you. I'm calling Falcon7.
Tony: ** Staring at her viciously. ** Go right, ahead! Wow, look at the time! I have to get to work!
Luis: ** Intrigued ** What, you're leaving just before you get to the juicy part? Come on, Tony! Give!
Zola: Yeah, I want to hear about how she wrecked the car!
Tony: ** Proudly ** Nah, I really have to go. I'll finish the story at lunch! ** Smiles. **
| Lady Tesser | 11-08-2003 10:13 AM |
It's really too bad I have the programming skills of a lump of Miracle Whip, I'd be demanding the rest of the story by hanging you from a light fixture at the office. ^_^
| Pygmalion | 11-09-2003 06:26 AM |
Tvperez, Tony seems to be a glutton for punishment. First he does all these crazy things with Dorothy, then he tells his pals! Double the pain.
It's fun to see a male "Mary Sue" story.
Pygmalion
It's fun to see a male "Mary Sue" story.
Pygmalion
| A Clockwork Tomato | 11-09-2003 03:17 PM |
Okay, I’ve done a Mary Sue. Mary Sue’s are hard for me. I can’t bring myself to force anyone to break character, and I frankly don’t think that the main characters would let me muscle into any of the big-time action.
So I ended up with a simple vignette, with no action or plot development to speak of. I hope you enjoy it!
LEGBOLT
I was standing at the corner of a city street, and for the life of me I couldn't remember what I was doing there. It was a warm spring day. In the distance, a series of domes dominated the skyline. Somehow my lapse of memory didn't seem very important at the moment.
A petite redhead in a black dress came walking down the street. She was one of those women with such perfect carriage when she walked and such wonderful posture when she was still that her features could be submerged by the overall effect, though in fact she was quite good-looking.
I was enjoying this spectacle when, a few paces away from me, she stumbled and nearly fell. She made no sound, but put out a hand against the stone wall of the building and steadied herself. She brought herself upright again and glanced down. She raised her right knee slightly and was swinging the whole leg experimentally in short arcs.
I approached her. "Excuse me, miss, do you need assistance?"
She raised the knee higher. "I seem to have thrown one of the bolts from my right knee joint."
"I hate it when that happens." How could someone with a prosthesis walk so beautifully?
"Could you look for it? I should be nearby."
"Didn't it fall inside your stocking?"
"No, it poked a hole first, see?" She stuck a finger through a hole in the side of the black stocking.
"Okay." I started scanning the sidewalk. It didn't long to find it.
"Well, I found half a bolt. It's sheared off pretty close to the head." It was a stainless steel hex key bolt with about a quarter-inch of shoulder. It had broken off a little below the shoulder, leaving only two or three threads.
"Yes, that's the one. It looks like there’s enough left to get me home. You wouldn't happen to to have a 3 mm hex key wrench on you?"
"No, but let's see if my knife has a blade that will get it started." I pulled out my cheap but serviceable Swiss Army knife. The awl blade wasn't too bad a fit. She held her knee up and motioned for me to get on with it. She needed both her hands to align her knee so the bolt would go in.
I hesitated. "You don't have jealous husband who'll beat me to a pulp if he finds me touching your gams, do you?"
"No."
They really were great-looking legs, though they didn't feel natural to the touch. I noticed that both of them were artificial. It hardly seemed possible.
After a moment I said, "Well, that's about as good as it's going to get. I can't put much torque on it. Do you have far to go?"
"I'm about ten blocks from home," she said.
"I'll escort you, if you don't mind. I hate it when a lady breaks down in public."
I expected her to laugh -- that was the best joke I'd made in a long time. When she didn't, I looked at her face. She was looking at me with a calm expression that caused bells to ring faintly in my memory.
She said, "Thank you."
We started back the way she had come. We walked in silence for a couple of blocks, then I suddenly said, "You're Dorothy Wayneright!"
She turned to look at me. "That's right."
"Sorry, allow me to introduce myself. I'm . . ." I stopped, perplexed.
"Have you forgotten your name?" she asked, watching me with interest.
I shook my head. "Nobody forgets their own name. Not unless they've suffered an immense amount of brain damage or are more or less unconscious."
She waited. After a while I said, "I can't remember my name." I was scared.
She nodded. In the same voice she had used all along, she asked, "Do you remember where you were staying?"
I thought for a moment and said, "No. I can't seem to remember anything until about a minute before I saw you."
"There has been an epidemic of memory loss in the city," she said calmly. "Mostly it affects outsiders on their first visit."
"That sounds like me."
"Usually they recover completely in a few days."
"That's a relief."
"We can put you up at my house until then," she said.
"Thanks. That’s awfully kind of you."
We began walking again.
"I need a name to call you by," she said after another block.
I tried to think of one. Nothing happened. Eventually I said, "You pick."
"John Doe?"
"Too hackneyed. The John's okay, though I'm pretty sure it's not my real name."
"John Jones?"
"Too bland."
"Quentin Aloysius Pefferbright III?"
"I'll settle for John Jones," I relented, smiling.
She stumbled. After a moment she said, "At least it didn't fall to the sidewalk this time."
She fished the bolt head out of the hole in her stocking, which now had a huge run in it. We repeated the repair procedure and continued on.
She turned at the entrance of a tall building that looked like an old-fashioned bank.
"I remember this building," I said.
She turned. She never settled for a glance if she could manage a careful look.
I continued, "Roger Smith lives here."
"Do you know him?"
I considered. Then, “No."
She opened the door and ushered me in. "Let's go straight to the machine shop." She led the way to an elevator and pushed the button for B3.
"Okay, but I keep feeling like I've walked into a bedroom comedy, and the master of the house will burst into the machine shop as I loom over you with a gleaming screwdriver, demanding that I unhand his android."
"It will be a black hex key wrench."
"I think your jokes are working better than mine."
"Everyone knows that androids have no sense of humor. Here we are."
The elevator door opened and we were in a spacious, well-appointed machine shop with about a twenty-foot ceiling. Some of the machine tools were enormous. Many were types I didn't recognize. A gigantic roll-up door concealed whatever lay beyond the machine shop area.
"Have you ever used a broken screw extractor?" she asked.
"Drill, tap, extract."
"That's right. You can do that part, because I can feel when the two holes are aligned, and you can't."
We had arrived at a workbench in one corner, which was obviously her repair area, since there were some miscellaneous spare parts in evidence. A red wig stood on a stand, covered with a clear plastic bag. Dorothy opened a drawer and pulled out a new bolt. She took a knife, a hex key wrench, a small handheld drill, and a few attachments from a tool chest. She placed these, except for the knife, on a workbench in front of me, slipped off her right shoe, stepped back, and raised her right leg straight out in front of her, resting the heel on the workbench. With the knife, she cut off her stocking slightly above the knee and had me pull it off. "It was ruined, anyway," she said.
Her leg was a work of art. Fully articulated, with only a few bolts and pins here and there to show that it was artificial. I later learned that she could cover these up easily enough, but didn't bother when wearing dark stockings. As I said before, it didn't feel like flesh to the touch, but it gave the impression of being a living part of her; something I don't associate with artificial limbs.
At her direction, I removed the head of the broken bolt, then drilled a small hole about half an inch deep into the shaft. I threaded the new hole with a hand tap, used solvent to rinse out the hole and remove any metal chips, and then screwed a small bolt into the hole. Having a left-hand thread, tightening the small bolt unscrewed the larger one.
When it came out, slight shiftings indicated that Dorothy's knee was far less functional with the entire bolt gone than with just the head end missing.
While Dorothy held everything in alignment with both hands, I picked up the new bolt and the hex key wrench.
The door behind me opened.
"I knew this would happen," I said.
I put the bolt into the hole in her knee and started it with my fingers, then spun it down with the hex key wrench. I wanted Dorothy on her feet so I could cower behind her.
"Hello, Norman," said Dorothy. "Bolt 432 sheared off near the head while I was walking down the street. This gentleman helped me home."
I turned around. A tall, elderly gent with an eyepatch was walking towards us. He said, "How do you do, sir. I am Norman Burg. Thank you for helping Miss Dorothy."
"My pleasure. I'm calling myself John Jones at the moment."
"Mr. Jones lost his memory this morning," said Dorothy.
"I'm sure I put it down here somewhere."
"And has been making wisecracks nonstop as a consequence." She turned to look at me. "Or are you always like this?"
"I can't recall."
"See?" she said to Norman. "He doesn’t remember where he was staying. I invited him to stay here."
"Yes, indeed," said Norman, on cue. "We would be delighted to have you, Mr. Jones."
"Thank you.”
I turned to Dorothy. "Where's the torque wrench?"
"I'll do it." She held out her hand for the hex key wrench and tightened the bolt down hard. Then she took her heel off the workbench, wiggled her leg around, stood on it, and did a couple of amazing backflips. "That's better. Thank you."
She put the tools away and we all trooped upstairs.
###
So I ended up with a simple vignette, with no action or plot development to speak of. I hope you enjoy it!
LEGBOLT
I was standing at the corner of a city street, and for the life of me I couldn't remember what I was doing there. It was a warm spring day. In the distance, a series of domes dominated the skyline. Somehow my lapse of memory didn't seem very important at the moment.
A petite redhead in a black dress came walking down the street. She was one of those women with such perfect carriage when she walked and such wonderful posture when she was still that her features could be submerged by the overall effect, though in fact she was quite good-looking.
I was enjoying this spectacle when, a few paces away from me, she stumbled and nearly fell. She made no sound, but put out a hand against the stone wall of the building and steadied herself. She brought herself upright again and glanced down. She raised her right knee slightly and was swinging the whole leg experimentally in short arcs.
I approached her. "Excuse me, miss, do you need assistance?"
She raised the knee higher. "I seem to have thrown one of the bolts from my right knee joint."
"I hate it when that happens." How could someone with a prosthesis walk so beautifully?
"Could you look for it? I should be nearby."
"Didn't it fall inside your stocking?"
"No, it poked a hole first, see?" She stuck a finger through a hole in the side of the black stocking.
"Okay." I started scanning the sidewalk. It didn't long to find it.
"Well, I found half a bolt. It's sheared off pretty close to the head." It was a stainless steel hex key bolt with about a quarter-inch of shoulder. It had broken off a little below the shoulder, leaving only two or three threads.
"Yes, that's the one. It looks like there’s enough left to get me home. You wouldn't happen to to have a 3 mm hex key wrench on you?"
"No, but let's see if my knife has a blade that will get it started." I pulled out my cheap but serviceable Swiss Army knife. The awl blade wasn't too bad a fit. She held her knee up and motioned for me to get on with it. She needed both her hands to align her knee so the bolt would go in.
I hesitated. "You don't have jealous husband who'll beat me to a pulp if he finds me touching your gams, do you?"
"No."
They really were great-looking legs, though they didn't feel natural to the touch. I noticed that both of them were artificial. It hardly seemed possible.
After a moment I said, "Well, that's about as good as it's going to get. I can't put much torque on it. Do you have far to go?"
"I'm about ten blocks from home," she said.
"I'll escort you, if you don't mind. I hate it when a lady breaks down in public."
I expected her to laugh -- that was the best joke I'd made in a long time. When she didn't, I looked at her face. She was looking at me with a calm expression that caused bells to ring faintly in my memory.
She said, "Thank you."
We started back the way she had come. We walked in silence for a couple of blocks, then I suddenly said, "You're Dorothy Wayneright!"
She turned to look at me. "That's right."
"Sorry, allow me to introduce myself. I'm . . ." I stopped, perplexed.
"Have you forgotten your name?" she asked, watching me with interest.
I shook my head. "Nobody forgets their own name. Not unless they've suffered an immense amount of brain damage or are more or less unconscious."
She waited. After a while I said, "I can't remember my name." I was scared.
She nodded. In the same voice she had used all along, she asked, "Do you remember where you were staying?"
I thought for a moment and said, "No. I can't seem to remember anything until about a minute before I saw you."
"There has been an epidemic of memory loss in the city," she said calmly. "Mostly it affects outsiders on their first visit."
"That sounds like me."
"Usually they recover completely in a few days."
"That's a relief."
"We can put you up at my house until then," she said.
"Thanks. That’s awfully kind of you."
We began walking again.
"I need a name to call you by," she said after another block.
I tried to think of one. Nothing happened. Eventually I said, "You pick."
"John Doe?"
"Too hackneyed. The John's okay, though I'm pretty sure it's not my real name."
"John Jones?"
"Too bland."
"Quentin Aloysius Pefferbright III?"
"I'll settle for John Jones," I relented, smiling.
She stumbled. After a moment she said, "At least it didn't fall to the sidewalk this time."
She fished the bolt head out of the hole in her stocking, which now had a huge run in it. We repeated the repair procedure and continued on.
She turned at the entrance of a tall building that looked like an old-fashioned bank.
"I remember this building," I said.
She turned. She never settled for a glance if she could manage a careful look.
I continued, "Roger Smith lives here."
"Do you know him?"
I considered. Then, “No."
She opened the door and ushered me in. "Let's go straight to the machine shop." She led the way to an elevator and pushed the button for B3.
"Okay, but I keep feeling like I've walked into a bedroom comedy, and the master of the house will burst into the machine shop as I loom over you with a gleaming screwdriver, demanding that I unhand his android."
"It will be a black hex key wrench."
"I think your jokes are working better than mine."
"Everyone knows that androids have no sense of humor. Here we are."
The elevator door opened and we were in a spacious, well-appointed machine shop with about a twenty-foot ceiling. Some of the machine tools were enormous. Many were types I didn't recognize. A gigantic roll-up door concealed whatever lay beyond the machine shop area.
"Have you ever used a broken screw extractor?" she asked.
"Drill, tap, extract."
"That's right. You can do that part, because I can feel when the two holes are aligned, and you can't."
We had arrived at a workbench in one corner, which was obviously her repair area, since there were some miscellaneous spare parts in evidence. A red wig stood on a stand, covered with a clear plastic bag. Dorothy opened a drawer and pulled out a new bolt. She took a knife, a hex key wrench, a small handheld drill, and a few attachments from a tool chest. She placed these, except for the knife, on a workbench in front of me, slipped off her right shoe, stepped back, and raised her right leg straight out in front of her, resting the heel on the workbench. With the knife, she cut off her stocking slightly above the knee and had me pull it off. "It was ruined, anyway," she said.
Her leg was a work of art. Fully articulated, with only a few bolts and pins here and there to show that it was artificial. I later learned that she could cover these up easily enough, but didn't bother when wearing dark stockings. As I said before, it didn't feel like flesh to the touch, but it gave the impression of being a living part of her; something I don't associate with artificial limbs.
At her direction, I removed the head of the broken bolt, then drilled a small hole about half an inch deep into the shaft. I threaded the new hole with a hand tap, used solvent to rinse out the hole and remove any metal chips, and then screwed a small bolt into the hole. Having a left-hand thread, tightening the small bolt unscrewed the larger one.
When it came out, slight shiftings indicated that Dorothy's knee was far less functional with the entire bolt gone than with just the head end missing.
While Dorothy held everything in alignment with both hands, I picked up the new bolt and the hex key wrench.
The door behind me opened.
"I knew this would happen," I said.
I put the bolt into the hole in her knee and started it with my fingers, then spun it down with the hex key wrench. I wanted Dorothy on her feet so I could cower behind her.
"Hello, Norman," said Dorothy. "Bolt 432 sheared off near the head while I was walking down the street. This gentleman helped me home."
I turned around. A tall, elderly gent with an eyepatch was walking towards us. He said, "How do you do, sir. I am Norman Burg. Thank you for helping Miss Dorothy."
"My pleasure. I'm calling myself John Jones at the moment."
"Mr. Jones lost his memory this morning," said Dorothy.
"I'm sure I put it down here somewhere."
"And has been making wisecracks nonstop as a consequence." She turned to look at me. "Or are you always like this?"
"I can't recall."
"See?" she said to Norman. "He doesn’t remember where he was staying. I invited him to stay here."
"Yes, indeed," said Norman, on cue. "We would be delighted to have you, Mr. Jones."
"Thank you.”
I turned to Dorothy. "Where's the torque wrench?"
"I'll do it." She held out her hand for the hex key wrench and tightened the bolt down hard. Then she took her heel off the workbench, wiggled her leg around, stood on it, and did a couple of amazing backflips. "That's better. Thank you."
She put the tools away and we all trooped upstairs.
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