A/N: Hey all, yeah you know I don't own the characters of Disney or other
brand names and such. Yes, this IS a parody to some extent of the film
"You've Got Mail". Most Lizzie episodes include some parallels to
movies/TV. Shows, so I see no wrong in having a FanFic do the same. So I
shout a general disclaimer for the rest of this FanFic to the
writers/owners/producers/lawyers/gnomes and other such people who have any
right or affiliation to either Lizzie McGuire or You've Got Mail.
Gordo cracked his knuckles. Whoever had written this was going to get the most unbelievable verbal- rather written bashing of all time.
"Some people just don't appreciate smart guys for who they really are. I, myself, am what you have referred to as a 'smart guy'. I like being smart or intelligent and well read, as I prefer. I don't care what the girls or the guys think of me at my school right now, in years to come things will change because people ultimately change. There's no way in heck that I'm going to change anything about my lifestyle just because some random girl thinks that guys who are 'hotter' are more successful than the guys who are simply 'smart guys'. You'll get your reality check sooner than you think 'Sleeping_Beauty'. And for the record what kind of name is that? A tad arrogant, aren't we?" he said aloud, moving the mouse pointer over the 'reply' button and signing his name as 'Smarter_Guy', chuckling all the while.
'That ought to send her a nice little wake up call,' he thought and continued to browse the online forum. There were topics here and there upon an array of various trivial matters, none of which had really concerned Gordo. That last one on 'which is better smart guys or hotter guys' had been the only topic which had really taken his fancy. It wasn't that he wanted to defend his honour -although that was a small part in it all- it was more a matter of trying to get people to see things his way for a change.
"Bah! Who am I trying to fool? These hot heads are so full of their own self-importance they probably won't even understand what I wrote," he said, turning to the mirror and preaching to himself, to comfort his conscience and reaffirm his thoughts. It always seemed easier to talk to one's reflection as opposed to the wall, in his mind at least.
Gordo was in middle school. The period just before entering high school and building one's path to the future of work, earnings, family and so forth. It was all about the future in his mind. School was just a staging point to what lay ahead. If absolutely nothing went his way now, it surely would in the end. His parents had explained that to him and allow they worked long hours and weren't often around for him, the little time he did have with them was often well spent. Those wise words of "there is always light at the end of the tunnel" had become his motto. None but he knew it. It was what his whole life was going to be based upon.
'But where did the tunnel end? Where did it start?' he always asked himself, 'when will I know I have reached my place and when will the rewards show themselves?'
It was not easy being Gordo. He was simply one of a kind. His mind worked intensely all the time. Pondering the meaning of life and how curly fries were cooked to just that right temperature. More importantly, he thought of his friends. Miranda Sanchez and Lizzie McGuire. His two greatest partners in crime.
Miranda had her life set, or so it seemed to him. She was quite talented with singing and would have no trouble in picking up a record deal. Where was Gordo going? There wasn't anyone outside the school gates with pen and paper in hand awaiting his little signature for whatever it was he was going to do with the rest of his life. Miranda was close, but nothing of the calibre that Lizzie was.
Lizzie. Gordo often found it hard to think about her. Why? She was different. Not in a bad way. There was something purely fantastic about her. She had a flare that only Gordo could see but for some reason, it was as if she could not see him. No matter what she did, Gordo would do anything to ensure it worked or that he could at least assist her. Why didn't she notice him? Why were all the other 'hotter' guys as that foolish girl on the Internet had posted upon, so much better than he? Gordo stuffed the thought of it all away in the back of his mind like he did with anything that pained him. Lizzie didn't pain him, in fact, she was the first person he thought of when he woke up and often the last person he thought of before he drifted off into dreamland. He couldn't quite understand what it was that made him crazy about it all.
"David, you have a phone call," Gordo's mother bellowed from downstairs.
'The phone had rung?' he thought, screwing up his face at the reflection in the mirror.
"David! Come now!" his mother called again.
"Yeah, sure Mom. I got it here," he yelled back, grabbing the phone beside his bed and closing the web page browser on his computer screen.
He pressed the small green 'answer' button on the handset and pushed the phone to his ear, "hello?" he asked casually, quite beyond his former thoughts. Gordo was somewhat very competent at being able to switch from deep thoughts to random conversations very easily.
"Heya Gordo!" came the ever-familiar voice of Lizzie McGuire, bubbly as usual but not at all in an annoying way.
"Hi," he mumbled.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. Just been working away on homework, kinda tired I guess," he lied, avoiding any sort of emotional conversation.
"Yeah me too, but that's not why I called. I was just wondering if you want to go out with me-" Lizzie had said, but Gordo's mind trailed off at those few words.
'You want to go out with me?' his mind had asked, sending a mild shake all over his body before being snapped back to Lizzie's words again.
"-and Miranda saw it so we were wondering if you wanted to come?" she finished, having told Gordo all the details but unaware of his complete lapse in concentration. "Oh! Err- yeah let's go see it," Gordo garbled, completely unaware of what he was agreeing to.
"See it?" Lizzie questioned, taken aback by his statement, "no, no. My bad. I probably didn't explain it well enough. It's only 20 dollars!" she said, a little loudly, causing Gordo to flinch slightly, "Gordo, we're going to buy it!"
"Oh, right," he replied; completely uninterested, yet worried about exactly what 'it' was.
"Good then we'll see you at the mall in 20 minutes," she finished once more.
"Right, see you then," he answered, trying to go along with it all.
Lizzie squealed slightly, "this is going to so totally rock Gordo, it's going to be the best 20 dollars you ever spent. See you at the mall in our usual spot!" and she hung up, leaving Gordo more than bemused.
"What did I just agree to?" he said aloud, 'more importantly, what did you just spend 20 dollars on?' he conscience added.
Gordo looked over at his wallet. Lizzie was special and undoubtedly his best and most trusted friend, but she did have a way with his money. He walked over to the desk, grabbed his wallet and walked downstairs.
"Mom, dad, I'm going out with Lizzie and Miranda," he said to the dinner table, crowded by tabloid newspapers.
"Sure thing son, just don't be late, we're having your mom's special," his father replied distantly.
"Yeah, ok. I'll be back before dinner dad, it is only midday," he pointed out, rolling his eyes at their lack of interest in him.
"Bye honey, don't be late for dinner, we're having your father's special," his mother said, no more distantly than his father.
Gordo rolled his eyes again and headed for the door.
Gordo cracked his knuckles. Whoever had written this was going to get the most unbelievable verbal- rather written bashing of all time.
"Some people just don't appreciate smart guys for who they really are. I, myself, am what you have referred to as a 'smart guy'. I like being smart or intelligent and well read, as I prefer. I don't care what the girls or the guys think of me at my school right now, in years to come things will change because people ultimately change. There's no way in heck that I'm going to change anything about my lifestyle just because some random girl thinks that guys who are 'hotter' are more successful than the guys who are simply 'smart guys'. You'll get your reality check sooner than you think 'Sleeping_Beauty'. And for the record what kind of name is that? A tad arrogant, aren't we?" he said aloud, moving the mouse pointer over the 'reply' button and signing his name as 'Smarter_Guy', chuckling all the while.
'That ought to send her a nice little wake up call,' he thought and continued to browse the online forum. There were topics here and there upon an array of various trivial matters, none of which had really concerned Gordo. That last one on 'which is better smart guys or hotter guys' had been the only topic which had really taken his fancy. It wasn't that he wanted to defend his honour -although that was a small part in it all- it was more a matter of trying to get people to see things his way for a change.
"Bah! Who am I trying to fool? These hot heads are so full of their own self-importance they probably won't even understand what I wrote," he said, turning to the mirror and preaching to himself, to comfort his conscience and reaffirm his thoughts. It always seemed easier to talk to one's reflection as opposed to the wall, in his mind at least.
Gordo was in middle school. The period just before entering high school and building one's path to the future of work, earnings, family and so forth. It was all about the future in his mind. School was just a staging point to what lay ahead. If absolutely nothing went his way now, it surely would in the end. His parents had explained that to him and allow they worked long hours and weren't often around for him, the little time he did have with them was often well spent. Those wise words of "there is always light at the end of the tunnel" had become his motto. None but he knew it. It was what his whole life was going to be based upon.
'But where did the tunnel end? Where did it start?' he always asked himself, 'when will I know I have reached my place and when will the rewards show themselves?'
It was not easy being Gordo. He was simply one of a kind. His mind worked intensely all the time. Pondering the meaning of life and how curly fries were cooked to just that right temperature. More importantly, he thought of his friends. Miranda Sanchez and Lizzie McGuire. His two greatest partners in crime.
Miranda had her life set, or so it seemed to him. She was quite talented with singing and would have no trouble in picking up a record deal. Where was Gordo going? There wasn't anyone outside the school gates with pen and paper in hand awaiting his little signature for whatever it was he was going to do with the rest of his life. Miranda was close, but nothing of the calibre that Lizzie was.
Lizzie. Gordo often found it hard to think about her. Why? She was different. Not in a bad way. There was something purely fantastic about her. She had a flare that only Gordo could see but for some reason, it was as if she could not see him. No matter what she did, Gordo would do anything to ensure it worked or that he could at least assist her. Why didn't she notice him? Why were all the other 'hotter' guys as that foolish girl on the Internet had posted upon, so much better than he? Gordo stuffed the thought of it all away in the back of his mind like he did with anything that pained him. Lizzie didn't pain him, in fact, she was the first person he thought of when he woke up and often the last person he thought of before he drifted off into dreamland. He couldn't quite understand what it was that made him crazy about it all.
"David, you have a phone call," Gordo's mother bellowed from downstairs.
'The phone had rung?' he thought, screwing up his face at the reflection in the mirror.
"David! Come now!" his mother called again.
"Yeah, sure Mom. I got it here," he yelled back, grabbing the phone beside his bed and closing the web page browser on his computer screen.
He pressed the small green 'answer' button on the handset and pushed the phone to his ear, "hello?" he asked casually, quite beyond his former thoughts. Gordo was somewhat very competent at being able to switch from deep thoughts to random conversations very easily.
"Heya Gordo!" came the ever-familiar voice of Lizzie McGuire, bubbly as usual but not at all in an annoying way.
"Hi," he mumbled.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. Just been working away on homework, kinda tired I guess," he lied, avoiding any sort of emotional conversation.
"Yeah me too, but that's not why I called. I was just wondering if you want to go out with me-" Lizzie had said, but Gordo's mind trailed off at those few words.
'You want to go out with me?' his mind had asked, sending a mild shake all over his body before being snapped back to Lizzie's words again.
"-and Miranda saw it so we were wondering if you wanted to come?" she finished, having told Gordo all the details but unaware of his complete lapse in concentration. "Oh! Err- yeah let's go see it," Gordo garbled, completely unaware of what he was agreeing to.
"See it?" Lizzie questioned, taken aback by his statement, "no, no. My bad. I probably didn't explain it well enough. It's only 20 dollars!" she said, a little loudly, causing Gordo to flinch slightly, "Gordo, we're going to buy it!"
"Oh, right," he replied; completely uninterested, yet worried about exactly what 'it' was.
"Good then we'll see you at the mall in 20 minutes," she finished once more.
"Right, see you then," he answered, trying to go along with it all.
Lizzie squealed slightly, "this is going to so totally rock Gordo, it's going to be the best 20 dollars you ever spent. See you at the mall in our usual spot!" and she hung up, leaving Gordo more than bemused.
"What did I just agree to?" he said aloud, 'more importantly, what did you just spend 20 dollars on?' he conscience added.
Gordo looked over at his wallet. Lizzie was special and undoubtedly his best and most trusted friend, but she did have a way with his money. He walked over to the desk, grabbed his wallet and walked downstairs.
"Mom, dad, I'm going out with Lizzie and Miranda," he said to the dinner table, crowded by tabloid newspapers.
"Sure thing son, just don't be late, we're having your mom's special," his father replied distantly.
"Yeah, ok. I'll be back before dinner dad, it is only midday," he pointed out, rolling his eyes at their lack of interest in him.
"Bye honey, don't be late for dinner, we're having your father's special," his mother said, no more distantly than his father.
Gordo rolled his eyes again and headed for the door.