The Damnation of a Deadbeat

A Futurama Fan Fiction (one-shot)


Author's Note: For the Writers Anonymous Random Opener Challenge; rules, guidelines & other entries can be found here: topic/2872/177072554/1/Game-Random-Opener-Challenge-Deadline-July-31-AND-Winner-of-Point-of-View

I do not own Futurama, and this takes place in a current fan-fiction of mine, where much like the main story, it's inspired by the canon of the series, only with an alternative universe & timeline.

Specifically, this one-shot features the personal thoughts of one Thomas Mayfield, a 21st century outcast (OC) recalling the hours during and after his harsh, violent encounters with a stranger named Leela, and omnipotent being named Nibbler.
(Future Through The Past, content from Chapters Four thru Six, in various degrees)

No worse welcome to the jungle than walking among wolves, of foul, wanton intent…

For reference:

Normal type: Scene-setting, laying events out, speech, personal story etc.

Italic type: Thoughts wished to be spoken out loud or said to self, in place of conversation…

Bold Italic type: Thoughts wished to be screamed out, in place of conversation…


All right, maybe it wasn't the best way to start off a conversation.

And all right, maybe that wasn't the best way to introduce my presence to a world of strangers.

Hell, sitting on some small shared bed, squatting in some condemned children's shelter—Cookieville, if I recall—alone with my nose broken, my jaw fractured, my head screaming and my face busted open, there was no way to argue otherwise. Anything to occupy my time and try to stay sane—distracting myself from the damage dealt to me—while waiting for that cab to get here.

"What in God's name is going on?" I hear you asking. Well, how 'bout that, you read my mind! Been the only question I've had since my arrival to New New York, almost a thousand years in the future.

If I may beg your indulgence, please, stay a while and listen… Let me welcome you inside my mind.

Say you slipped into my shoes over these, I don't know, past few days or so. In that timeframe, you quit your soul-sucking job in anger & disgrace, and drank whiskey to the point of projectile vomiting. All while rotting your mind with TV, fast closing in on a coma & chance of death, if truth be told.

Where my past life would end, wallowing in witless, hopeless waste, in my worthless house. Here's your free shovel, so you could help me dig my grave. But oh wait, there's more!

In just these past, errr, eighteen hours at a guess, I've found myself flung and figuratively spat out into the future, facing this otherworldly mecca of New New York, with sweet fuck-all idea of where to go, and what to do. Further stacking the deck against me were my clothes, soaked with the strong stench of 100-proof whiskey & vomit, and these 'citizens', so swiftly pissed off with me that they shot me down before I could even speak… Almost literally, in several cases, if you could believe that.

Their shouting or swearing I had grown numb to… The joys & rapture of call-centre work, after all. But sweet hell, to be shoved around or to feel a slowly charging barrel against your chest—maybe seconds from firing—while you were pleading for advice?


Just quickly, let me stop right there.

If I may ask for a quick show of hands… In my shoes, at that very moment, would you have pictured yourself as a perfectly calm & rational person? A pillar of peerless eloquence, able to inspire with a speech that'd put "I Have A Dream" or "Fight on the Beaches" to shame?

Don't think I didn't see your hand… Well, least you're comfortable being called a liar; to tell you the short, simple and basic of it.


Back to the story now…

So, being confused, scared to death, broken beyond repair and all alone, I did what any normal person might've done. Somewhere, after so much walking, I had soon sunk to my knees and bellowed out a scream. Tore my throat out, for a solid minute, before sobbing my heart out.

But of all places to air my grievances, it had to be right outside an apartment complex, in the dead of night, with everyone fast asleep. Swear the Gods loved taking turns treating my head as their toilet!

All I heard in the seconds after was a voice screaming "SHUT THE HELL UP!" A woman, with a command so clear and convincing, that I felt only fear in the frantic scramble to my feet. Staring and scurrying for the source, but when one looks for trouble… It tends to come pounding towards you.

Looked like she laid down in light-lilac pyjamas, but was obviously no delicate flower of any sort… From quick glances, a large purple ponytail, a curvy yet chiselled figure, and a giant, ghastly eye in the middle of her head. One that stiffened my spine and shivered my senses as she stared me down, furiously baring her teeth and cradling her fists all the while.

Pfft, forget the welcoming party, she was simply fixing to flay me alive. Flog a fear of the future, into my very flesh & bone.

"Who in every God's name are you, what's with the evil eye, and WHERE IN THE HELL AM I?!"

Her reply so lethally low that I heard nothing but 'alien', it wasn't long before I felt two jabs flash in my face, so stiff they made my nose and eyes water. Did my damnedest to dip from, dodge and duck her devastating blows, but talk about lose-lose… Instincts were worthless against her, and only succeeded in pissing her off, to boot.

Growled, grabbed my head and reeled back, soon cannonballing her knee right into my jaw. How I still stood on my shoes I'll never know, maybe my double chin absorbed most of her impact. Whatever pleas I had for mercy & apology, she wanted none of them, as she stood me up, slammed my body against the apartment's side, and just dealt her damage in dominating fashion.

A free-for-all on my face, which in mere minutes roared with a fire not unlike a blast furnace. Couldn't speak, couldn't breathe in, couldn't think, and sure couldn't wait to die. Heard, saw and felt nothing else, not even her complaints about cleaning her clothes, before she sent a roundhouse kick, so sharp, sudden & swift, to the side of my head. Splayed me out, sent me straight to sleep…


Another aside, and maybe an aside to that (with my apologies), if you'll allow me...

From that point of time, would you think any less of me if I adamantly flipped everyone off, and told them all to go fuck themselves? I mean, seemed very clear that they cared very much AGAINST my wellbeing, and I just didn't have the time nor energy for those types of people.

In all seriousness, would you stop me had I stolen a spare weapon, somehow, and took to the streets with a murder spree in mind? Screaming & laughing while sending all those assholes to hell, straight before I met them there myself?

If you do, then forgive me for flipping YOU off, for your so-called flawless outlook on this world…

Looking back on that dream though, I guess there was one positive, even if pointless, to take out of the day's end. With that sadistic psycho's strikes making for some sweet anaesthetic, I was left dreaming about my once-blissful family, now just dust in the wind having disappeared centuries ago.

By the way, credit where due if you've kept up with this lately screwed head of mine to this point.

Couple of years before I found myself hurtled into this hell, life was relatively amazing. My mum, the superglue that kept us all together... My dad, no better friend nor father you could ever know. My older brother, my once-rival who taught me heaps on social & street smarts, at least for last millennium.

Together, we had much more than most going for each other. At least before those awful screams. Woke up suddenly, barged into my folks' bedroom... But they weren't there, asleep. They were gone, vanished.

Panic and horror gripped me, and for months, I must've called the police ten times a day to file missing person reports. But according to them, was like they never existed, and furthermore, they even came to the house with handcuffs, threatening to arrest me if I kept harassing them.

After my brother called to coldly disown me, I just ran. Out of the house, onto the streets, just didn't care... A blur of misery, before I found myself here...

Recalling those moments, I only wished back then that I'd be sent away, so desperate was I to see them again.

But once more the powerless pawn in a cosmic chess game, guess they had other ideas for me…


Take a deep breath and relax, if you need to. Given this story, you deserve that much.

All good and clear now? Let's go back to the story...

I can't say I knew the time when I woke up, but I sure remember how. Sweet ice-frosted Christ, that water was cold! Seriously, a beating and then a boarding with these bastards? Had spat & sprayed like a human faucet gasping for breath, before focusing my eyes on some lady in a lime-green jacket and black pants, bucket in hand.

Moment they caught the purple ponytail & giant peeper, I found myself more pissed off than petrified. No prizes for guessing who that was, like this absolute sod of a life couldn't get any worse.

Felt myself double over and moan, the injuries catching up with the speed & ferocity of red-hot, .50 calibre bullets. Could've sworn that they were ripping my body to shreds... And of all the people to wake me, the woman who pulled that God-damn trigger by whipping my wasteful, worthless ass!

"Rise and shine, deadbeat, it's Friday morning! You're letting precious hours go to waste!"

Could only hear groans escape my mouth… Shame, I sure had some candid opinions to share.

"Hello, am I talking to myself here?"

Oh for the love of… Listen lady, can't you take a bloody hint?

"That's what I would've preferred." Had meant to say that, but only wordless nonsense came out.

"Sit up and speak up!"

Great idea, you Mensa candidate! Just gonna stand there, knowing damn well why I can't do that?

"Cracked my jaw, so much as I'd love to, can't!" Hoped she got the hint, expected that she wouldn't...

"Let me ask you, pal... Do you know why you're here?"

For all that's good in whatever world we're in, would you leave me alone… I'm miserable enough already!

Only found myself shaking my head, with every ounce of effort left and not a trace more. Of course, she just had to open her mouth again, waste whatever precious life I had left…

"You're here nursing yourself because you're the jerk who woke me up with your ridiculous screaming and yelling… But I believe in fairness, so consider that YOUR personal wake-up call, fresh from our city springs!"

Rrrrggghhh, you f…. You walked the many miles in my shoes this evening, you'd have kept your mouth shut! All my attempts at apology you denied, all my injuries you caused, all that drinking water you wasted, and that's FAIR to you?!

Needless to say, only the foul, filthy disbelief coursing through my face gave me the gameness to struggle, sit up, and eventually stand under my own power. Judging by my casual observations, whether up in their face or at the end of their guns, I might've been the only person here with five fingers to use.

Wasn't short of a reason to use my favourite in the old life… Certainly not short of one now.

"Here's your fuckin' fairness, freak!" I gritted, before flipping her the double bird. My words a mumble, my intents never clearer.

Such cold dismissal of her despicable words, letting those eagles soar high. A great relief, letting her see them clearly and without hesitation. My only reason to smirk—painful as it might've been—even as I struggled off still without answers or reasons. Made a promise to myself that, till death, she'd remember that more than I'd remember her.

Course, in that walk since, I remembered nothing but hopeless, helpless frustration. Not whether minutes or hours passed, nor where I might've wandered by, nor why I still continued to fight, facing sidewalks stuffed with the same wolves who snarled at my smelly presence, and nearly ate me alive last night.

But somehow, at some point, I found Cookieville. Sweet by name, a rotten disgrace by nature. A stately sort of home in some serious disrepair; windows busted & caked with dust, the fields barren & dry, the lone trees bereft of life, and mould & rot in just about every room I could peek into, plus the wooden door for going inside.

Feh, perfect metaphor for my life, such as how my seeds were sown… Looked so beat-to-hell and left to die, yet still stood up, surviving just one more day. Some things to beggar belief, others to make beggars believe, I imagine.

But trust the cosmic fates to keep foiling & fucking up my life. No way to reach the windows, door locked tighter than a miser's ass… All the bleeding I blistered past, all the pain I powered through, all for absolutely nothing. Had those heaves rise in my chest again, dread & death upon me, before some shabby maintenance shed slipped into my view.

Soon reeled three cherries on life's slot machine, a rare boon of good fortune; she was open, inside laid a twenty-pound sledgehammer, and sure as sunrise, the stately shambles of Cookieville looked much easier to trespass and squat in. Course, swinging that hammer while holding my jaw in place, neither the lock nor the wood budged an inch.

Man from Ironbark I wasn't; one who could still cause mayhem even after having his throat sliced by a red-hot razor. Knocking barbers out, wrecking the shop, and nearly breaking some necks, all while holding his throat and screaming bloody murder.

"No, not now! I've failed enough… Shamed myself & mine enough… Hurt them enough…"

Another wordless waste, where only a quote from my mind's recesses saved my life… A quote that summoned a stronger, more stable squeeze upon that sledge, with enough swears to embarrass a sailor upon letting my jaw hang loose.

Let fury have the hour, anger can be power… D'ya know you can use it?

"To hell with the lock… I… WILL… BEAT THIS!"

With face and feet on fire, screamed that thought over and over in my head. Dozen solid slams against those grains, an eternity of agony, but she finally gave enough to provide some wiggle room. Squeaking both the sledge and my stout self through, even the relief of having a place to stay was immediately bombed by the regret of calm breathing.

"Ugh, good God this place reeks! Who the hell would want to live here?"

And that of course said nothing about those sagging floors squelching & sticking my shoes, the mouldy peeling walls, and all those creepy head-turning owls, pecking for scraps & curious to the new intruder… But hey, shelter was shelter, and I sure couldn't be choosy right now.

Anger and adrenaline aided my every stomp forward, as the sledge and I got to know each other closely. Smashed, slammed & subtly loosened most doors in my way, soon finding a shared bedroom and stripping off those rancid rags quick as I could. Slipped into bed, eager to sleep off what had obviously been a bad dream.

But who was I kidding? With my throat as dry as desert, my stomach as empty as my bank account, and my legs shooting a good knee's length out of the end, to say nothing of the nails, bullets & sledgehammers piercing and pounding my feet, face & head respectively, there was only one thing I could do… Toss, turn, toss, turn, ad nauseam.

Well, would've been the plan, before a whispered babbling caught my attention.

Grew annoyed, but thought nothing of it. Freaked out upon a nasty scraping, dragging sound, wood on wood. Sat up, scanned around, sighed with a growl upon spotting nothing. For every Gods' sake, can't a little boy be allowed to nurse himself to nappy-poo around here?

Apparently not, when they look for trouble. One fateful turn later, found the culprit.

Fuzzy black creature, wouldn't have been taller than my heel. Galactic blue jumpsuit, stare of sombre importance on its face, and a voice of regal pomposity. Royalty, I had to imagine, regardless of the rotten hell he appeared from.

Immediately regretted sitting up and freaking out. A second alien in two days? And hours after that one-eyed psycho? God, what else did I need to happen, this dump to catch fire? Well, thankfully he was more a talker than a tyrant…

"Dear Gods, you're a greater mess than even I feared."

Gee, no shit? Brilliant detective work, you gumboot-sized genius…

"W-w-w-w-... What on Earth are you?" Only a gritting, wordless noise, while he flicked through toe-sized papers ignoring me completely.

"You must be, hmm, let's see, Thomas Mayfield I presume?"

Great, grand, wonderful! We're hardly a minute in and you know my full name… Still couldn't get the true words out, though.

"Okay, hang on, what I'm going to do is transmit your thoughts to speech, so don't be alarmed."

Yeah right, and I'm the Pope. 'Bout to give some nice pepper with my assault of sarcasm.

Well, right before it worked anyway:

The hell is happening now?! Anyway, yeess, that does happen to be my name, how did you know?

My disembodied voice thrown out to the ether, and a smug smirk towards my intended sarcasm.

"We're quite an ancient and powerful race, we know lots of things. And in due time."

"Seriously, little guy? Screw your 'due time' nonsense, and Gods-damn start explainin' now. For hell knows how long, I've been covered in vomit, I haven't drank or eaten a damn thing, I got cut off, confronted and castrated by the 'animals' on these streets, I've been walking on bleeding blisters and cuts, and I was beaten to within a millimetre of my life… Well?"

Could've sworn I saw him roll his eyes, all three of them, before he responded: "Oh, very well then. I am Lord Nibbler, of the planet Eternium, now current Ambassador to planet Earth. You were chosen as part of our latest venture, a series of experiments..."

Wait, I'm sorry, experiments? So everything I faced since last night… That was just some stupid game you put me in just to educate yourself?

"In particular, one we've called 'Project FTTP'. A series of humans from past periods of time brought into the future, to see how well they'd cope. We're testing the theory that, given any new setting humans could never experience before, they can not only survive, but they can also thrive."

Oh, for sweet Christ's sake… So it was you assholes who ripped me out of my life and sent me here?! With no dollar to my name, no clothes to my back, no food or water and my face caved in, do I look like I'm in any position to survive, never mind thrive?

"In a manner of speaking, yes, we take responsibility for your new fate. And I guess that's up to you."

"Okay, aside from your deserved dose of screw you, why didn't you explain any of this to me sooner?"

"WE DID, or at least tried to! Where you landed, we placed a metal box not five feet from your face! You'd have saved yourself those hours of headaches, heartache, & horrendous struggle if you just opened it. Indeed, we were actually afraid you'd be dead before we even had the chance to talk."

Forgive me for my rudeness, Your Furriness, but sure was nice of you to tell me NOW, instead of upon first arrival! Between some tiny metal box buried in the ground, and this GINORMOUS Gods-damned city, where do you think I'm going to wander? Surely you're intelligent enough to have foreseen that! Nothing like I've ever seen before, now that I think about it...

"Many orders above you, young one. And as for what you've seen, and when & where you are, this is New New York, in the early 31st century. I'd give you a full history lesson, but I'm afraid you'd die before I finished it."

Intelligent my ample ass! Hell, aside from the fact you completely failed your future guinea pigs in such a careless and irresponsible way…

A worthless, uncaring shrug in response while I only felt a freezing silence compress my chest, a gasp of pure disbelief while palms pressed against my pummelled face. Was obvious that things were a great deal different, where I walked and what I saw aside. But that one-eyed psycho, those weapons they all threatened me with? Seriously, what kind of twisted shit were these tiny scumbags pulling?

Great, a whole new city nearly 1000 years later… What the hell do I do from here then, dress in drag and dance the Macarena?

"It is your life, do with it as you please. However, beyond the very basics, I cannot help you further, and since our race cannot go back in time, I'm afraid we can't send you back either. Though judging from how we found you, I'd be surprised that you'd ever want to go back."

Are you for fuckin' real?! Sure, I just lost my job. Sure, I was behind on several payments. And sure, I might've been homeless within the week…But you really think you did me a world of favours bringing me here, without my knowledge and with absolutely nothing, to this shit-scary new world? I'll kill you, you mongrel bastard!

"While you've every right to express your frustrations, you were more or less dead when we found you! A little gratitude for saving your life would be nice, but even so, we cannot leave you so empty-handed. As part of my responsibilities as Ambassador and Supreme Fuzzler, I must advise of the care package that we've left under your bed."

Yeah, to hell with your gratitude, freak… More or less dead, at least the suffering would've been over. And you honestly think your dumb care package, your Band-Aid to your machete wound of chaos, would be enough for forgiveness? What made you think I graduated with a PhD in stupid?

Had no idea what he babbled or mumbled after that, though judging by his stare, must've been out of serious annoyance.

My blue eyes stared out of vicious suspicion... One to slice the air even, but surprisingly, upon spotting that crate, I had proven that creature's words 100% ridgy-didge… Nothing but truth, for real.

Greeted with a gorgeous scent of citrus and fresh linen, from those neatly folded outfits of white T-shirts and jeans. So sensuous and soothing, stood tempted to bury my face in them and breathe deep.

A cell-phone with the contact details of several businesses, plus a good heap of currency notes; horrible-looking blobs, big brainy men and classic Benjamins on each of them. Sadly, the latter had slimmed down in value somewhat, over the centuries.

Even so, quick additions of those 20, 30 and 10-dollar notes respectively meant I had about $1,000 to work with. A little paltry, but again, it was mine.

Huh, well better than nothing, I guess. Don't s'pose you know of anywhere I can sort out some immediate concerns, do you?

"Most of those concerns should be in your book, and there might be an opportunity in due time. That's all I can advise. Good luck young Mayfield, I sense you'll do fine here… I mean, it's not like you could do worse."

Save your stupid lack of faith, you snot-nosed little squirt. I don't want to hear it!

"If your path continues the same way, you're going to."

All right, maybe that wasn't your best way to end our conversation.

After that, hell… If I heard him say another word, then otherworldly being or no, my hand would've popped his head into pools of blood, goop & fur.


And here was where you came in, I believe. Moments after he disappeared with a flash of light and I flexed my fingers calling the local cab company… Hoped you liked the image of a bloated boy in briefs that whole time.

Anyway, sliding on my shirt and strides, having wiped myself down beforehand, oh man… Even the little air I took in smelt a million times more pleasant than what I knew, like a summer orchard to runaway sewage. Feeling a new kind of high that moment, even with the dozens of lows over these few days.

Doctor's office my obvious number one priority, then a department store for hygiene products. A gym/pool for a long and thorough shower, a barbershop for a complete makeover of sorts, and then, a way to finally shut my quivering guts up with a glorious gorging of food and drink. And to hell with the healthy kind, quite frankly.

BEEP, BEEP!

Well, looks like my cabbie's arrived, and with that, my future life begins from a witless, hopeless, wasteful past. Still, nowhere to go but straight up from here, and though they look mostly empty now…

May the roads rise to meet me, and may good fortune bless me, from here on out…