Her clothes and ship clean, and given the all-clear, Captain Leela had run some quick errands before docking aboard the Nimbus. Bought herself a bag full of cutlery sets and plates, the aim to take that kid off of Zapp's hands now that space was hers to breathe.
She'd admit to squirms against the possibilities, and did so even more when The General had sent Kif to escort her to the bridge.
"If it isn't my favourite Captain, especially beside me. Was hoping you'd come back… You're under arrest."
He spun her about, and formed the metal & laser cuffs over her hands & legs. Craning her neck towards him, her lips pursed, and her eye became an ugly slit.
"Oh Lord… Under what grounds this time, you overspilt manure bag?"
A pose as his head jutted towards the ceiling: "For littering aboard a DOOP-designated vessel; under Brannigan's Law, arrest is mandatory."
"I haven't eaten a single crumb since I—"
"I know you haven't, but you've still discarded trash on my ship, regardless. I'm sure you'll catch on."
A look before it dawned: "Oh you've GOT to be kidding me! Now it's a felony to save a life you don't like?"
"Given my benevolence and your particular situations, you're lucky I marked you down from treason. You threaten the safety of a DOOP General, you threaten our entire planet, period."
"Take it from your Army, they'd deify me if I ousted you. As for the kid, what kind of threat could he present, as a hole-riddled, one-armed sort from the Stupid Ages? If you're talking against our love, don't bother."
"Be that as it may, you know we were meant to be. After all, aside from doing it, you left my competition behind…"
Zapp then wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and led her towards a large, active airlock. Looking through the glass, Leela had seen her charge lying prone and still full of holes, that the space had been converted into a makeshift hospital.
Seemed the worms hadn't quit on him yet; his vitals remained steady and she wiped her brow for feeding him that sandwich. Of course, even an accidental button graze would've ripped him out…
"Quite the alien anomaly, your friend. Figured for the safety of my crew, I'd give him his own private wing."
"You rat bastard…"
"I'm eager to prove that he's ready to fly, but I'll let you both go for, shall we say… a month full of dates? Just us two together aboard my ship, inside your favourite Lovenasium?"
"How about zero dates?"
"I'm the one holding the cards now Leela, so let the negotiations begin.… Three weeks."
"My offer remains at zero."
"Two weeks."
"Zero will remain zero, end of discussion."
"A shame, a terrible shame… Little Thomas was never good to anybody."
"Haven't got the time nor patience, so listen up General. I have a 'friend' who's eager to declare war. Everything my crews old and new have done, on my order, has brought him to ruin. And as we speak, you're holding a member hostage right now."
"Your own friends would declare war on you?" he palmed his hips. "No wonder why you've kept crawling back."
"Jefferson my starship… 'Friend' is being sarcastic, idiot! He's a supervillain who ripped my crews AND my life apart, all because I helped foil some stupid heist of his years ago."
"And where does little Thomas figure in everything since?"
"Through his secrets and our current efforts, I've kept getting sweet revenge against that scumbag. He wanted me bankrupt; business hasn't been better. He wanted me lonely; I've never been closer to reunion. He wanted nothing left for me; got reduced to nothing instead. You think he'll appreciate how you've protected him this whole time?"
"A classic Captain's bluff, but in poker, my high card beats your beautiful pair, every time."
"Going all in on that? You prepared to straight flush yourself, and a full house Nimbus, for that bet? For what I've known and seen, I'm offering a HUGE lifeline by taking him back. I suggest that in exchange for dates, you shut up and thank me, because you've failed against much less, General."
"I'll consider your offer. Or you can have my answer now if you ask a little more… sexfully."
She sighed before trying to purr: "Please? Big Z? I'll even let you rub on my skin cream?"
"Oh-ho, score one for Brannigan!" he pumped his fist. "Well, don't keep me waiting."
She took off her left boot; in his eagerness Zapp snatched the tube off the ground and squirted a glob on his glove. A soft rub over her face, a smooth glide over her arms & hands, and finishing by dipping down her tank-top.
"No better appetiser Captain… Soon we'll be having dinner, and you'll be tasting my sweet, sweet Miracle Cream. Bam." The point to his crotch almost had her hurl, before she heard her restraints groan.
"Eugh, not on your life! In fact,"—she smirked before bursting free—"I've much better plans for us."
Bidding him goodnight, she finger-flicked his skull to drop him at her feet. Using his handprint to open the airlock, Leela soon had the kid over her shoulder, speeding for her ship and towards her cabin. Laying him out on the only proper bed left, she was soon crushing ceramic and ripping metal apart, leaving the bits and pieces lined up in his gut.
Watching them vanish and be broken down, she clasped hands for the minutes of seeing his organs and wounds be rebuilt. Her whole life even to now; you wanted something done right…
"Argh you bastard Bender, I swear to the Gods I'll… Wait a minute, this ain't Chapek-9. Where am I?"
"You're in my cabin, kid. So, had a good rest?"
"Captain? Jeez you're a sight and sound for sore everythings! The hell's been happening now? I could've sworn I'd been ripped to shreds…"
"You just get yourself in the shower, while I get ourselves home first. There's plenty to catch up on."
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Upon Mayfield's lengthy kiss of solid land, their Captain's safe return had swept a fiery hot courage through Planet Express HQ, a fever of having finished off the crook that crossed them. So much so, it didn't take long for Bender to set up an impromptu balcony barbecue.
As whiskeys and ciders were wheeled in, as the grill sizzled and as everyone hustled into hugs, high fives and chest bumps, Mayfield just hung about in a puzzled daze. Even for the celebratory moods, for the succulent scents that formed spit on his lips, he'd been hesitant to join in.
On the one hand, something extraordinary must've happened, but on the other—odd turn of phrase—he wasn't sure they deserved it yet.
"Well strike me pinker than posies… Aside from Bender being here, anyone mind sharing what's got everyone so happy?"
Bender had raised his tongs: "Sup, cue-ball? We're happy 'cause I'm back, of course! And I figured we'd enjoy some good barbecue."
"That didn't answer my question, Bender. Glad you're home safe and all, but tell me something… Why the hell did you kick me down that hole for? I lost three weeks again just 'cause you couldn't wait a minute?"
Bender just glared: "Because you were wasting my time, and against The Zookeeper, I didn't need you to raise the heat and grill that porkpie good."
"Whoa, hold it!" Leela called out. "Thomas here gave us starts, kept most of our secrets, and kicked us off Bender. We did much of the hard work, it's true, but he helped us do the smart work as well."
Leela grabbed a seat near the cooler, got herself a cider, and cracked it open.
"So where to begin, kid…" She took a giant gulp. "What do you remember of Chapek-9?"
"Aside from getting aired out? Well there was the negotiation, that God-awful yodel, the sudden war, and—"
"That's good enough. Turned out General Zapp had hoped to trap you in such a situation; kept hiding location trackers in his 'gifts' to me. I bring one, he finds me, a war would begin from confusion, and you'd die in the crossfire. Taking you to the Nimbus, the creep even left you in an airlock, trying to bargain your life for my favours again."
Bile began to surge up Mayfield's throat: "Take me to him… Swear I'll rip his SPINE out for this!"
"Relax, only thing he accomplished was wasting his soldiers, nuking an alliance, and getting two ass-kickings from yours truly. And the best part? NO-ONE helped him, let alone defended him. In fact, I got a guard of honour the first time."
"I still owe that bastard a solid whack, even if I know none better to deliver it."
"Sadly, even I failed to knock any sense into him. The way he spoke about you, about those he doomed to die… Anyway, we planned to keep you in Nimbus's care, so you could stay safe and recover. Course, Zapp had other ideas I'd rather not get into."
"And what'd you do since then? I take it for all the happy faces, nice drinks and delicious food, it was quite significant?"
"Enjoyed a few weeks of mayhem tearing up The Zookeeper's empire. Together, we exposed and annihilated his reputation, caused at least eight figures in damages, and stole his only world-ending serum. Why don't you tell me?"
"Struth? Now that's news I'll drink to! But I can't think it—"
Bender cut him off: "Oh who cares, you insufferable mirror-head? What's not to have a good time over? He's finished, there's no way he's gonna come back!"
"Bender, you do realise that he still—"
A threat, and Bender's tongs brandished: "I SAID JOIN US!"
"Shut your mouth & listen! Let me sober you up a little, okay? Fact is, he's still got Fry, and back when he had everything, I had my whole body broken, even lost my good arm, because of the secrets I kept from him. Before Leela fed me Fry's sandwich, I had years of rehab ahead, maybe lucky to waddle as a human crash dummy."
"What is it about you meat-bags and being so fragile?"
"Fragile though I can be, forgetful I CANNOT be. You think he'll lie down like a wounded dog, 'cause you all tore up his life's work? That honey badger was already vicious enough; corner a creature like that, and you'll witness his nasty side."
Bender grumbled and kept cooking, while Leela handed Mayfield the sample. A viscous, void-coloured compound that he could only gawk upon, scared to his core.
"And Gods forbid, here's where it all begins… What's my orders, Captain?"
"Take that to the Professor, tell him to keep it safe. We'll work out any details later."
"Then keep those snags hot and whiskeys room temp for me… I'll be back soon."
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Beyond any realm of reality, the Professor remained as oblivious as always to every knock, cry out and yell of his delivery boy. In fact, the only thing to spin his head from his work was Mayfield kicking through his lab doors, leaving splinters of wood everywhere.
"MAYFIELD! I just had those fixed this morning… That's coming right out of your pay."
"Send the bill later wrinkle-head, right now, I want to ask a favour. Leela pilfered this from The Zookeeper a week ago; we've reason to believe that it's what he used to enslave Fry."
Even for his devoutness to doomsday devices, The Professor seized the sample in dread. Satan be his witness, he had found evil's bottomless pits in his bony hand.
"Sweet Zombie Jesus… What do you request that I do with this?"
"Leela just asked that you keep this safe, I'm sure you know where. We'll worry about what to do with it later. For one thing, The Zookeeper will no doubt retaliate, and he knows about us already. And if he takes back that vial, we'll all be screwed."
"I might be older, crazier and more decrepit than most I've known, child, but I'm still capable of reminding YOU and him of my brilliance. Especially for him trying to steal my sole pleasures left in this world, understand?"
"To be frank, you've worried me more than assured me. I appreciate your hellfire Farnsey, but—"
"The name's FARNSWORTH, confound you! And I don't need your approval, just get out of my way!"
"A valid point… Just take care of yourself, huh?"
As he quick-stepped back to the barbecue, Mayfield still couldn't help but reserve himself against the genuine good vibes now present. Even for the Dot n' Trot in his hand, and a plate piled high with meats and vegetables, he hadn't shaken whatever fears and doubts had lingered.
Still, for all their stories of homemade sprees, social schemes and galactic heists, he patted his chest for their efforts and the slither of credit given. Minor though it was, his part in piercing Zookeeper's invincible aura might've reminded him of a folk hero from his ancient past… The Man from Snowy River.
A country horseman, among the best to ride, tasked to track down and round up an escaped colt of a prize-winning racehorse. Gathering his crew, he chased that golden colt's mob down empty plains and up mountain summits for hours, until the wild beasts descended down a slope pockmarked with loose stones, fallen timber and wombat holes.
Even for their revered experience and reputation, every rider but he had believed, daresay accepted, that the prize was gone. The Man gave that horse his head however, lashing his stockwhip & roaring down fearless of any drawn-out death. To their silent surprise, he reached the bottom, raced for them alone, and corralled that entire mob back to pastures.
The quick notes of an epic chase, one that begged for a galactic do-over. Captain and crew as the horsemen, their dreams and desires they'd chase, The Zookeeper and possibly Zapp as the entire ride ahead of them.
It'd be a few hours of waters and story-time before Mayfield stood to leave, eager to sleep outside of a hospital bed for a change. Course, that brought up a whole new set of worries by itself.
"Heaven forbid I've been locked out my house. Pretty sure I owe two months' worth."
Wishing everyone a quick goodbye and pleasant dreams, he stared back for a minute before wandering towards the terminal. Didn't think it'd get worse than his first days—back home and here—without family, but he'd admit that all the recent education had opened his eyes.
He had even begun to believe, just a little, that The Zookeeper was done for when everyone returned to normal duties. Had their problems delivering such late packages, naturally, but compared to supervillains, these customers couldn't scare them one bit.
Far from ruining him though, the menace of Malumnus was just rebuilding…
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It was mid-October when that crew; exhausted from deliveries, meetings & complaints, had said their goodbyes until Monday. A lovely weekend of either dancing cares away, enjoying special time with family, or hugging the walls around home after getting ahead on rent.
But while they'd been gone, the safari-suited brigand had landed, a bag of burglar's tools as well as other flashy equipment in his hands. Scanning the perimeter, he could've collapsed into snicker fits for such obvious entry points, before he prowled through and snuck about, a surprising skill for one his size.
Locked, cocked and dying to shock any intruder in sight, he noticed the forms of Leela, Mayfield and some green suit he didn't recognise. All proven major pains regardless, ones he knew he had to destroy.
"Well well, of all days to declare overtime…" He then grabbed his binoculars to zoom in, catching a few details. "Unfortunate, they're just robot decoys. Lucky I still keep a few of these handy…"
For today's robot staff of big banks and credit unions, a small stash of EMP grenades on hand, part of his staple bag of tricks. A click of its trigger, and a perfect arc later, he soon had them fried from processor to heat gauge, shouts for being melted into molten steel. Seeing no other forms to stop him, he soon discovered the true secret that Mayfield had kept from him.
"How could I've been so blind? Would've only needed the one cream, with this brilliant technology! As for blueprints and manuals though, whoever could I interrogate?"
Took his time in exploring the lab, helping himself when his answer arrived not five minutes after, incurious to the crackles and spits as he searched for a midnight snack. Meanwhile, the snarling beast below him had rubbed his hands, licking his lips in anticipation.
"A two-for-one buffet… My long search is over, it seems."
Had almost felt insulted to stalk that Professor, but knew it to be a necessity as his prey jolted backwards.
"My dear friend... Hubert Farnsworth, I presume?"
"W-w-w-w-… Who the hell are you?"
No answer given, just his bony throat and frame gripped, lifted clear off the ground. A squeeze growing tight, an ancient corpse clawing for air.
"I'll be the one to ask questions. You'll find no concern or monkey business from me, if you're prepared to help me out."
"Get out of my headquarters, you fat sack of pachyderm excrement!"
"No, no, no… That won't do."
That grip grew tighter; how he didn't break the Professor's neck yet…
"May I remind you, old man, that I'll take great pleasure breaking those 206 bones of yours? Now let's try again, shall we?"
"Take my bones, I don't care! I have only one request for the man to kidnap my uncle, and that is to GO TO HELL!"
"So your crew told you, huh? Well, maybe I can sweeten the pot."
Zookeeper brought him level to his acidic eyes, a look that could've broken seventeen decades' worth of stubborn pride then and there.
"I want answers on your cloning machine; if you don't give them, I'll 'retire' him through my land-walking piranhas. I'll personally make sure there's nothing left to clone from, and your Captain and crew will know of your choice… Do I make myself clear?"
Old threats and popularity issues aside, Professor knew that such blackmail would end him. Pleading to be let go, he exposed it all; blueprints in this drawer, extra notes in that counter, basic instructions elsewhere… The ultimate villain got it all, and then some.
"That wasn't hard now, was it? Now how 'bout your one to three grams of L-tryptophan?"
"Hu-wha? What are you—"
Fat forearms soon locked across his throat; wasn't long before Professor faded, before Zookeeper carried him to his ensuite. After a nice tuck into bed, knowing no-one would suspect any threat, the villain's burlap sack soon sagged from whatever dove in.
Had thought about his vial, but knew he'd soon game himself too great an advantage to bother searching. All that information, an utter smashing of their cloning machine, and his own insurance policies… If they COULD reverse-engineer it, they wouldn't live long enough to do so.
The perfect reward in place, for the crew who gifted him back the old life…
When Saturday's midnight hour had struck, Zookeeper had rehomed into his icy cavern—how it still stood through those summers, no-one knew or asked. His stolen plans spread out and soon buried under black coffees, the night and day had grown loud with the faint echoes of voices, hums of study, and scratches over schematics.
Hours upon hours, all meant to remind Captain and crew about HIS laws of the jungle.
Thuds and booms of hammer on metal, a crackling fusion as pieces were welded together, and a most colourful vocabulary for each presumed mistake. All those noises to end upon the Sunday sunrise, as he put the final touches together.
A cloning machine to crane the necks of giraffes, standing wider than a row of elephants and featuring a spaceships' worth of buttons. An assurance of that super-soldier army coming close to reality, but of course, still a need to test her out.
Sliding his secret policy down the input tube, and pulling an offside red lever, he watched his baby not only bypass his original inspiration, but go leagues beyond anything an academy of inventors could imagine.
Without limit and in relative haste, tube after tube slid into minecarts through soft slides & tinkles. Dozens a minute, numbers to have Zookeeper chill the Sun itself when he leaned back and laughed. Peak super-villainy, the kind he hadn't known in decades.
Enjoying a ramble of commanding armies, seizing victories and soon, realising that truest dream of all, he talked all through the morning as his pride and joy chugged along.
"They want to pretend they've beaten me, that it's all over between us? Thanks to that dopey old man, they're going to understand what happens when you cross the wrong criminal."
Rummaging inside his sack again, the first of several folders came into his hands; inside were the personal details of the man he missed the most, if only for mangling's sake… Thomas Mayfield.
"First, I'll loot my tribute from the Captain's dead pupil, then annihilate the rest of the crew one-by-one. Congratulations Planet Express… You've graduated from the cubs table, now prepare to play among lions!"