Down 'Root 66' where half the destinations were never found, Leela and Amy would break off their delivery path to convoy and dock inside Greasy Sue's Greasy Truck Stop. Lunch, gas and washrooms for the typical crowd, but for Leela, a significant detour of spare quarters and greed before reason. Of the kid from the Stupid Ages evolving far beyond the century they both knew.
Thought of several things, shuffling Coolio's minted head in her fingers. What she'd say to Bender given her grudge, whether her charge would entertain this idea, or if The Zookeeper would actually finish what Admiral Fry began. Though he seemed satisfied by the current threats and footage, he had to be drafting his plans by now…
Circles in her head as they drizzled dark matter fuel into their tank, as they worked over and washed the ship. In that meanwhile, Leela had taken a tiptoe into the men's toilets. Quite the feat, for being one of two women in that light-year radius.
A horror show bombed in graffiti, not always in spray or pen. A busted door, a cracked and stained toilet, and a mutter of "Ew!" before she spotted her 'fresh' egg salad sandwich. Though grateful for the gifts—however brief—it once gave, she'd never fathom what made Fry eat it in the first place.
The 'food' paid for and in hand, she snatched the door to shield herself, and called for final checks before a chunky man in red cap, filthy singlet and stained jeans swayed his hips her way. To his catcalls and mating dances, a big bras d'honneur before she manned the controls and took off.
Was for the best; dared not imagine the mess Admiral Fry would've left of him…
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Back on Earth, against the late sunset, constant pains & boredom, Mayfield had to feel gratified for the friends to pull him back. In this crazy concrete jungle he called home, in those seas above the skies, and in the hands of his Captain and The Zookeeper, they became the common thread to his survival.
"To think, mere months ago I'd have been left for dead…"
That gave him all the more reason to push forward, to fight even as forces of discovery, fate and curiosity made it clear how powerless he could be. In life's cosmic chess game, he was square on the front lines.
He had just finished his latest of several naps before finding the entire Planet Express staff standing before him; Leela's face pursed and flushed in particular.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" he jolted forward, pains aggravated again. "Thanks for dropping by, but could you've let me know beforehand?"
A weird noise from her lips, before Leela collected herself: "We'll promise to stop scaring you, only in exchange of our gift. Crew, if you'll please."
An activation of strange dome-like helmets, as Mayfield raised suspicious eyes and Leela fished about a protective bag. Even for being wrapped up, it had the exposed one squirming. Once she peeled off those protective layers, however…
Two slices of mouldy white bread; in between some years-old mayonnaise, an afterbirth masquerading as an egg, and a blackened husk to top that whole sorry affair. The Captain bit her tongue hard, as her mortified charge swung his head and tried to scramble away. No exposed graveyard, sewage plant or villain halitosis could ever compare to that.
"Oh GOD, that is rank! You're not gonna feed it to me, I hope?"
Leela betrayed a titter: "Of course not! However, you're gonna remain here for refusing, and I doubt our fat friend will be so patient."
"Why would he care when you're doing his bloody work for him?"
She then pointed, her look now serious: "For once, YOU'RE giving the life lesson. Is that enough to trust me here?"
Mayfield could only grumble as his eyes searched around. All the meals in the world, only to get that long-dead appetiser, one to have him begin dry heaving. But he knew that Leela would've had enough common sense to avoid such a thing if she hadn't known of it before.
"Why you crooked… Alright, fine. Just hope you don't lose any fingers though."
"That's the spirit. Open wide and chew thoroughly now, we've got to get it all down."
Needless to say, if it hadn't been for the staff holding his mouth shut, his spit would've redefined light-speed. Tastebuds nuked, senses under peppered assault, and minutes of struggle before he chewed and swallowed every last piece. A chainsaw roar of curses once he flecked his sheets with spit & crumbs, as the crew—especially Leela—fell about in hysterical tears.
"There went a hundred war conventions all at once… How the FUCK do you call yourselves friends after that?!"
Leela burst again into laughter; to herself this was her revenge for the initial nastiness back at New Jersey. Over time she'd forgive him, and through the sandwich, she'd pay Mayfield his fair reward.
"Cruel as that was,"—Amy shrugged—"we just gotta wait a week or so, then add our supplement. We'd best get set up, think a small army would be worth the funds?"
Leela gathered herself and paced in thought: "Much as I'd love to storm Zookeeper's home and lay waste to it, that workshop's no factory. Hell, we won't have an army for long even against those paranoid robot sufferers."
"How 'bout a dozen or so?"
"A bit much, but could ensure a good spread too. I'm sure Hermes here could figure out the logistics, however he deems fit." She then slammed a fist into her palm. "Alright, let's get started. Once we're all set up, we'll hopefully be back in time to help, soon collect, our cursed charge over here."
Wasn't above another giggle as he gave an ugly look, ready to soak his sheets again.
"Promise on my name, I'll cook and eat every one of you alive if this doesn't work."
"Yeah, like that'll ever happen. Sweet dreams kid."
Still in great mirth, Leela left out the door with the others behind, all perhaps for the tube.
"Damned she-beast."
His world of pain getting a new land mass; a build-up of discomfort brewing in his stomach. Turned out, it wasn't just the taste to wreak havoc over him…
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Marching in lockstep through his digestive system, worm-like creatures by the dozens, scores, then hundreds. Microscopic parasites at first glance, little different save for one who capped a crown on its head, climbed the remains, and addressed his 'subjects'.
"Well, this ain't the Stupid Ages slob we catered for… No matter. Subjects, as your Lord Mayor of Cologne, do you hear me loud and clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Very good. First things first, I must be upfront… For having no silverware, and from what's been seen coming in, we've got some real tough days ahead of us. By royal order, I'll expect you all to pull round-the-clock duty, to secure and improve our new home's wellbeing. Is that understood?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Outline and report back any immediate priorities to undertake, and then we'll split ourselves up accordingly. Dismissed!"
A final salute as the worms spread around the body, as they soon glanced upon the ruined wastelands, cleaved tree trunks and ashen dust of former bones & muscle. Who knew when the Lord Mayor received the reports, but it left him splitting hairs—mostly himself—once he read through.
Sorting through any would-be usurpers, he let the suggestions come in full force. First thoughts were to clear the ruins, rebuild from scratch with whatever the sandwich could give them. The problem was in having no silverware city for quick, reliable transport; if muscles were to impair or impale, then risk of host death would've been high.
Another worm reported of existing 'Miracle Cream', and got not even thirty seconds into explaining before the Lord Mayor gave a forceful palm upside his head. 'Fingers' being no bigger than atoms aside, the risk of exposure to extreme climates would've ended them in a virtual instant.
Despite the hours slaving over a plan, and as days became a week, they had nothing save for setting his cravings into place. Beyond the baby steps of minor works and keeping him alive, they knew of his discomfort while inviting them inside. Of having no way to wash out the taste, or of there being nothing to distract him from the stench.
The Lord Mayor could only reflect on his throne: "Whoever helped us last time, let's hope they do so again…"
For the kid, his struggles to sleep, the sandwich's stench, and the chamber memories had begun to batter his mental state; even left him begging to dig up the long-dead remains of his leather jacket. On top of that, he had no evidence of his Captain's latest lesson, of the little friends buried in his guts.
"What's happening to me?"
Ten days after the sandwich, he had a fortunate if quick visit from Leela & Amy, one to sit him up and help dry-swallow a couple of Professor-patented pills. A throat stroke, a gulp of water, and a fast word of goodbye before a finger flicked his lights out.
Back inside that gut lining, the worms rejoiced for their supply of mini-silverware. Before long, any close witness could hear the faint sounds and sprays of power tools, silly string and rumba music throughout his body. New days seemed to trickle by as nurses kept monitoring his coma, as the worms kept their diligent work going from his faint hair to his toenails.
Not that their host could tell; had he known better from Leela's laugh, he'd think that he'd done his tour for good. All they wanted were directions, he gave them, and now they had dusted their hands.
Just as well he'd leave everybody on a high note, if nothing else.
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Mayfield would wake past the second week to find his nurse scurrying to the open window, buzzing in disgust and almost ready to waste upon some poor citizen's head. Might've imagined he had died or was in such a process; body quite numb over the usual screaming murder.
"¡Ay, ay, ay, Dios no me ama! No mas, no mas! What the hell Mayfield, have you tasted your breath lately?"
"Lady, I was force-fed some baneful sandwich and a couple pills only God knows when, besides that, I've no idea what's happening. I was hoping you'd help me figure it out."
"I'd bet my 4001k that your freaky friends are involved again. Perhaps we'll check inside your colon and get the truth."
"Just out of curiosity, don't you guys abide by a Hippocratic Oath, or something?"
"We would've, only for some bespectacled prune in fuzzy slippers to bribe us. We mentioned that same Oath, he goes 'Oh fuff', and then slapped another wad down. Called it an impromptu experiment, on an unconsenting patient no less. If that ain't evil, I…"
"Lady, pray you don't know his true depths. Listen, this is gonna sound crazy, but could you please take my body-cast off?"
Far from complying, the nurse almost collapsed on the floor, her laughs rattling the walls: "Pffft, you're joking right? When I said I'd test your colon, I didn't mean right this second. You were given six months minimum, and that's how long you'll be bedded for."
"I fear I must educate you a little. The guy who left me here doesn't want me here, period. In fact, judging by how he left me, he won't hesitate to carve out some extra headstones if called for. I ain't got months to wait, and none of you do either. Now help me out or I'll bust through this myself."
The belly laugh spread again through the nurse's body: "I've heard some whopping big lies in my 15-year medical career, but you've just topped the charts. It was a freak anomaly on its OWN to witness what you survived."
"I'd be a fool to disregard what you've seen, but a freak anomaly is all I've been since coming here. In fact, my money, my mouth, this moment. Head of Gore says I'll be perfectly fine once I'm out of this thing. You in?"
"Wait, 500 bucks? You've got that kind of money to toss away? Fine, be my guest… You're on!"
All giggles and mockeries as she undid the cast, she only thought of the easy bonus until Mayfield spun around, slid to the bed's edge and stood up, only the realisation of such dropping him back down. Stood again moments after, to her near-wordless gaze.
"Bullshit!"
"For once, we can agree."
In her eyes nothing but a ghost, before she remembered that her purse was in her locker. Surprised once more, when he held up a hand.
"Seriously, keep it. Just stay with me, and check that I'm not dreaming, okay?"
Several tries of sits and stands, no issues had. Head-to-toe stretches from shoulder raises to squats; no single sign of bother. Ordered him to walk and use the grippers; could only gasp and fall to his ass after such use of new legs and hand. Once the nurse finished up, all she did was leave and mutter about imagining things, while Mayfield began to hyperventilate.
No longer had the 'snowman fingers' his brother fondly teased him of, nor the boab-like thighs that had him waddle. Now certain that his breath and general stench were causing delusions, he leapt into the shower to scrub, soap, soak and gargle for dear life.
"Reality check, dude. Reality check. You're just dreaming, you heard the nurse, you're not out of that cast…"
Course, once he dried himself and his mirror's dewy fog, he could've woken the dead for seeing the man staring back.
In place of his double chin, a sculpted jawline. The corpulent chest and belly he once expected to find had just disappeared, leaving a solid, rippling figure in its place. A splash of water over his eyes, and a sudden stare to his arm. Instead of molehills, a mighty mountain peak upon flexing.
His head on a constant swivel: "Well I'll be buggered… What the hell happened, I've got this whole body now? What the hell's going on here?"
Could've flown with smiles aplenty, and almost did so before he cupped his mouth. For he would flash and open wide a perfect set; dentistry between old and new that almost had him chew his knuckles off.
It'd prove minutes of rechecks, pinches, face slaps and soft wall headbutts before he couldn't confirm any different, before he realised his miracle beyond comprehension. One to have him slap the floor, pump his fist and roar for this new lease on life.
Wrapping the towel around him, he might've bounded out the door were it not for his Captain and co-pilot standing in front.
A sudden yell of surprise as he addressed those ladies, who soon launched backwards while holding their noses. Amy swore in candid Cantonese, and Leela's eye had watered from the whiff.
"Geeze your breath reeks kid! If you had brushed instead of lounging in bed all day…"
"Don't you bloody blame me, you know damn well what you fed me before."
"Yeah yeah, now stay right here. We'll get some clean clothes, and get your mouth cleaned out."
Both ladies left and returned carrying a nice set of his usual, and a bag of hygiene products. It'd be an hour of sprays, flossing, polishing and mouthwash before they could speak without racing for the window.
"A sweeter scent I've never smelt in my life… Thank heavens."
"And thus ends the lesson, of miracles coming from the damnedest places." Leela winked. "Just as you taught me, when you helped cloned my cream. Oh, and just in case, here's your gold ring."
"A lesson I've never been gladder to learn, Leela. Thank you, only hope I can pay it back. But what possessed you to stuff that sandwich down my throat in the first place?"
"That was the sandwich Fry ate, one to feature mutualist worms inside. Made him then just as you are now. Through words, deed & music, he'd just keep stealing my heart. I said I'd loved what he became, and then he wanted the 'real him' to be loved. Somehow expelled all his worms, became that idiotic goofball again, and we faltered. I just hope you'll use them better than he did."
"Admiral or no, the dude's prepared to get vicious against whoever lays a finger on you. He could've had any lady for what he ate, instead he prepared to do 25-to-life shit in your honour or vengeance, sacrifice such treasures BECAUSE you meant that much to him."
"Like to think I'd have respected that, if he actually told me about it. Anyway, we've grabbed your things, you ready to go?"
It was straight to business soon after; Amy had let Mayfield know of his early release, signed off and sealed this morning. That pro's eyes as he watched him stretch and walk about… Her parents' farm for a record button.
"Could only imagine. And how goes our robots?"
A frown from Amy: "Fine Thomas, I guess, but now I know why Build-a-Bots are so cheap… Fingers crossed we can convince those guards and the populace that we're just like them. Not that we can dwell on it for long, Operation Two Cubes awaits."
With fists (or fist) in, a bunch of hasty preparations, and some final meals and goodbyes later, the crew had soon set course for Chapek-9. That Leela knew and had warned the others, a planet of robot refugees itching to seek revenge against the human world for centuries.
Oppressions, injustices, slaveries; civil relations or no right now, anything to even look human might've been fried on sight. And though Mayfield had felt earth, wind and fire course through him compared to recent days, the true weight of this mission had whammed him in the gut.
Even for parking far outside the boundaries, even for nicking their skin to prove their wiring over blood, and even for all the plans, encouraging words and outfits of cameras to track everything, there was no telling of the bevy of surprises, suspicions, resentments, outright hatreds or all-out wars he and the crew would confront.
Perhaps for their first proper reunion in over a year, they might've had to go through them all.