A man in a rustic outfit and cowboy hat greeted Hermes and the boy at Honest Flem's Used Spacecraft. "I'm Honest Flem," he introduced himself, "and I own this here establishment. What ken I do fer you gents?"
"I'm lookin' to buy a new delivery ship, mon," replied Hermes.
"Yeesh, your phony accent's even worse than mine," remarked Honest Flem.
"Hey, that was a rude thing to say to my dad," Dwight protested.
"Rude, but honest," said the spaceship dealer. "That's why they call me Honest Flem."
He led Hermes, Dwight, and Cubert into his vast outdoor lot, where about two dozen small ships were tethered to a row of posts. "This one's a 2993 Galaxian," he said, gesturing at one of the boxier models. "She was owned by an old lady who only used it for trips to the bingo planet."
"What are those scratches?" asked Cubert, pointing.
"It's impolite to point, boy," said Flem. "Those scratches are from a battle with a squadron of warships commandeered by brain slugs. The old lady put up quite a fight before she was assimilated."
"Uh, I'm not sure, mon," said Hermes.
"I personally swept her for brain slug larvae," Flem told him. "Then I burned the broom. I guarantee you, she's safe."
"That one over there looks nice," said Hermes, directing his gaze toward the next ship on the lot.
Flem nodded. "That's a 2999 Robotron," he said, running his hand over the glossy black exterior. "Her top speed is 45c, plus she can turn into a robot."
"Cool!" Dwight exclaimed. "Buy it, Dad! Buy it!"
"I see no reason why we should ever need such a gratuitous feature," said Cubert.
"Buy it! Buy it! Buy it!" shouted Dwight, jumping up and down.
"It's clearly a marketing ploy to attract the under-12 demographic," Cubert went on. "Which makes no sense at all, since 12-year-olds aren't allowed to pilot spacecraft."
"Buy it! Buy it! Buy it! Buy it! Buy it!"
"A ship that can turn into a robot requires highly sophisticated servo mechanisms," Cubert pointed out. "They'd have to be serviced and replaced periodically, and that's not cheap."
"Shut up, Cubert," said Hermes. Turning to the dealer, he declared, "I'll take it."
They shook hands firmly. "This way to my office, sucker," said Flem.
As Dwight bounded with joy, Cubert checked the signs in front of every spaceship he walked past—2996 Defender, 2995 Galaga, 2998 Tron. "What's the deal?" he commented. "Every one of these ships is named after an old video game."
"So are you, Cubert," said Hermes.
Leela's naked body is every bit as sexy as I imagined, thought Fry, gazing into a full-length mirror. But now I feel ashamed of myself for looking. Guys can be such perverts. Uh-oh…I'm starting to think like a girl.
All was quiet in Leela's apartment, largely due to the fact that Nibbler was absent. Blinky the three-eyed fish floated placidly in his tank, making no sound at all. Then the doorbell rang.
I guess I should answer that, thought Fry. Grabbing a towel from the bathroom rack, he wrapped it tightly around his slender hips and walked on bare feet to the apartment door. It slid open, revealing Amy in her pink sweatsuit. "Oh, hi, Amy," said Fry.
Amy looked at her friend, and her smile turned into a gape.
"What?" said the bemused cyclops.
"Er…ah…" Amy stammered.
Fry glanced downward and saw what was wrong. "Oh, crap," he grumbled.
The door closed. When it reopened, Amy beheld Leela's body with a towel covering her chest as well as her groin.
"Sorry," said Fry sheepishly. "I guess I didn't learn much when I was attached to you."
"Don't worry about it," said Amy as she strolled into the flat. "Checking out your new body, I see. How do you like it so far?"
"It feels nice," replied Fry. "I think I'll have a lot of fun in it."
Amy took a peek into the sparsely furnished living room. "Where's Nibbler?" she asked.
"He's at my place, with Leela and Bender," Fry answered. "We agreed to live in each other's apartments on that one condition. If we're lucky, he'll eat all the pizza boxes and soda cans and junk." He opened a drawer and pulled out a brassiere. "Could you help me put this on?"
"Sure," said Amy. "I came over here," she said while fastening the straps, "to invite you to come to the Robocabana with me tonight."
"The Robocawhatcha?" said Fry.
"It's a new dance club," Amy told her. "It's got a full bar, live bands, a vibrafloor, and plenty of good-looking guys."
Fry considered the offer while sticking his head through Leela's tank top. "That sounds great, Amy," he said, "but you know I can't go to a nightclub looking like this."
"Put on a dress, then," said Amy.
"Right," said Fry, exasperated. "And while I'm at it, why not put a sign on my back that says, 'I'm a sexy woman, ask me to dance'?"
Amy put on a wounded look.
"I'm not ready to get it on with the guys," said her body-switched friend. "If I learned anything when Foss kissed me, it's that a girl can be swept away by her feelings. Have you forgotten what happened when Leela and Zapp first met? One minute she was feeling sorry for him, the next minute she woke up in his bed."
"Yeah, you never know where it'll lead," said Amy excitedly. "That's why they call it la vida loca."
"Besides," Fry continued, "if I do something irresponsible and screw up Leela's body, she may decide to keep mine, and then I'd be a man trapped in the body of a one-eyed woman. I'd be twice the freak Leela was."
"Fine," said Amy, her patience waning. "We'll go and do something nice and safe, like all-night vespers at the Church of Robotology."
Fry shook his head. "I'm sorry, Amy."
As her Asian friend turned to leave, he had an idea. "Wait," he blurted out.
"What?" said Amy.
"Do you know of any lesbian nightclubs?"
To be continued
