Shortly after I embarked on my post-divorce life, I discovered the fan-stories of my man The Enduring Man-Child, aka EM-C. He is a fellow KP fan-author, geek, and introvert.
After the demise of our other fellow KP fan-author colleague and fellow geek, and EM-C's longtime beta reader, that worthy gentleman cpnb, my man EM-C bestowed upon me a singular honor; he asked me to pinch-hit as his beta reader. I was more than happy to oblige.
Rarely have I engaged on a more pleasant literary task. As I frequently declaim in my reviews, his stories come to me pre-beta'ed. They are pristine in their grammar and punctuation. I run them through the word-processing program and they come up spotless; I can count on one hand the number of times I found an error. They are fun to read: sweet but not too saccharine, romantic, wholesome, and witty. He has a way of writing that brings the reader up to speed even if said reader is not acquainted with the particulars of the fandom.
And his stories contain something else…a quality that almost defies classification. They are lavished with love, the kind of love that only one who is painfully shy, starved for human affection, and endowed with keen understanding of the human condition, is capable of.
He is the complete antithesis of the man who is lauded on soap operas and reality shows, that is, the assertive virile babe-magnet. In him resides a rare spirit It is the spirit of Dante, the Italian Renaissance poet, whose name is made famous in the reference to his most well-known work, Dante's Inferno, whose adoration for Beatrice, the idealization of femininity, remained concealed. And it is the spirit of Don Quixote, the mad knight, who conjured the Lady Dulcinea out of both his imagination and his holy desire for someone to dedicate all his chivalrous fervor and gallant deeds to.
EM-C is a gentle and poetic man, an eloquent man. What I struggle at in my Glacial Slowness comes naturally and seeming effortlessly to him, Le Mot Juste, The Right Word. His writing is shot through and through with poignancy, yearning, tenderness, and gentle humor. He is a man to be trusted with fragile things like hearts and friendships. Though he is not of my Born-Again Bible-Thumping Evangelical faith, I call him my brother.
As I say, what he writes resonates with me, one recluse to another. It calls to a part of me so deep that it is difficult to articulate. His influence calls forth the words from me. I understand him, for we are a reflection of each other.
I found in his KP stories a romantic paring I've never seen: Vivian Frances Porter and Bueno Nacho Ned. I besought his permission to borrow it, and he graciously complied. That was more than five years ago, about the same time I embarked on my Heroine's Legacy arc. To employ a couple metaphors, the soil has been fallow long enough; it's high time to start this engine up. Will this story take wings, or just lie there, like all my other incomplete stories? Who can say?
This is my homage to you, my friend.
Viv and Ned
chpt 2
after-rumble
The Robot Rumble gang was coming into the Middleton Bueno Nacho after another night of gladiatorial encounters between electromechanical warriors.
The assistant manager, Ned Mundo, had arrived early to set up for the anticipated rush. His ever-dependable counterperson, George Sheldon, was there, knowing what to expect.
"Brace yourself, George! We're going to have a rush!" In fast-food parlance, a rush did not refer to a fraternity hazing, or a pleasurable feeling induced by controlled substance. It literally meant crunch time, a sudden overwhelming number of customers.
"I'm all over it," shouted George jauntily. He began at once to set up the assembly-line-like process for assembling tacos, nachos, and burritos.
Ned grinned a half-grin. In a world where people seemed to constantly disappoint and belittle, George was a bastion of dependability. They had a definite chemistry; the two of them worked well together.
And speaking of chemistry…someone else would be there tonight…someone who could only be described as a pheromonal catalyst to Ned's poor naive heart.
While the staff was restocking the line and double-checking everything, George asked how Ned how the night went at the Robot Rumble.
Ned had a combination smirk-and-gloat smile on his face. "Well…now that you ask…"
George nudged his supervisor. "You mean you won? Your robot won?"
Ned beamed. He had come flush from his triumph, and now had a chance to recount his feat of arms "My robot took on all comers. Including Oliver Octillio's model."
George whistled. "Excellent! Sweet!"
There was scattered applause in the background from the other
Bueno Nacho staffers. Ned blushed and grinned bashfully. "It wasn't that big a deal, you guys!"
George Sheldon's presence at the Middleton Bueno Nacho cast a pleasant spell over the rest of the staff. At any other venue, Ned might be razzed and belittled both behind his back and to his face; that often happened to people who were short, bespectacled, spoke nasally, and hung out with other geeks. Razzing and belittlement would be amplified if said people were fussbudget perfectionist assistant managers. But George was about respect. He was a boy scout, in the best sense of that term, the embodiment of the oath, honest, loyal, true, and wholesome, and he influenced others. Such people were also razzed and belittled in the modern cynical era; but few belittlers would have the nerve to stand toe-to-toe and eye-to-eye with the broad-shouldered boy and demean him to his face.
The ill-assorted fleet of beaters, imports, rattletraps, and secondhands that constituted the aggregate cars of the Robot Rumble membership rolled into the Bueno Nacho parking lot.
"They spend more time and money on their battle robots than they do on their cars," muttered Ned. And he caught himself. I guess I'm in the same general fix in a way. I don't even own a car.
And the Robot Rumblers filed into the restaurant. There was Larry Rivederci, obscure to the world at large, known only as Kim Possible's nerdy Cousin Larry, but renowned among the geek subculture as the Resident Scholar Laureate of Nerd Nirvana, the Tri-City area's premier comic book store. And Justine Flanner. And Mary Giereanu, Middleton High's perennial Girl-In-Blue.
Ned did a quick glance at George. Bueno Nacho's most dependable counterman carried a lighthouse-sized torch for Mary. And his ardor was not exactly reciprocated.
Steve Barkin, Middleton High's assistant principal and omnipresent substitute teacher, was substitute-teaching the science class earlier in the school year; he had paired Mary and George together for the last Science Fair project, just as he had paired Monique Watson and Ron Stoppable, Justine Flanner and Kim Possible, and Bonnie Rockwaller and Brick Flagg. He had tried in his way to be fair and impartial, without regard to any personal preferences.
Monique and Ron got off to a rocky start, but managed to do reasonably well together; Ron, slacker that he was, tried to ride Monique's coattails to an easy "A" for the project, but events conspired to force Ron to step up. Justine and Kim also had some initial differences to work out. Justine had an aptitude for both particle physics and self-importance; she considered all humanity, including Kim, her intellectual inferiors; but events also forced them to cooperate. Ditto Mary and George…but that is another story. The only couple who naturally hit it off was Bonnie and Brick.
The event that forced Justine and Kim's cooperation was the temporary team-up of the supervillains DNAmy and Dr. Drakken. Drakken had enlisted DNAmy's help in his ceaseless effort to devise a better army of henchpeople, be they robotic or organic; their mutual efforts concocted a shocking genetic fusion of monitor lizard and human; it resembled a huge tyrannosaur.
Utilizing a device of Justine's own making, the two schoolgirls created a vortex in the space-time continuum and exiled the creature to an era more amenable to its existence.
Justine was also temporarily sociable with the masses…until habitual disdain for the less-intellectually-inclined slowly seeped back in. That, too, is another story.
Also a member of the Robot Rumble…with the burnished golden hair, golden tan complexion, and little mole on her upper left lip, was Vivian Frances Porter. The euphemism for a small facial mole, 'beauty mark', found its full relevance to that feature on her lip.
And with Vivian was her constant companion…attired in the traditional geek apparel of baggy pants, and geek-style polo shirt with the breast pocket stuffed full of pens and markers, Oliver Octillio. His haircut almost looked like a retro bowl cut; shaved up to the middle of the back of his head and above his ears. But his physique was that of a first-string football lineman. He overshadowed even George Sheldon.
Ned sighed. He stared transfixed at Vivian for a bare couple seconds, and then jerked his gaze away when she turned her gaze toward him.
"Hey, Specks!" she called out friendlily . "The gang's all here! Are you ready to feed this mob?" She finger-waved and flashed a glowing smile.
At the sight of that smile, Ned's heart flip-flopped. He forced a wan smile in response. "Always ready, Vivian."
Always ready to serve you, Viv…and anyone with you…
Her high-pitched and slightly nasally voice had that cutesy tone that men associated with shy and vulnerable women. She could modulate it to sound cutting and brassy, but with Ned, she always made it sweet and appealing. Ned thought it angelic. It seemed that she used that tone of voice only with him, but he ascribed that to his imagination. She was a California Girl, as out of place in the Robot Rumble as a geek like him would be out of place in somewhere trendy, like Club Tourmaline's, the premier night spot in Upperton.
The customers formed two lines at the counter. George fielded one line and Ned the other. Behind them, the crew manned the fryer and the grill. Like a well-oiled machine, the countermen took each order, and the crew got each order working.
George unfailingly bestowed the official Bueno Nacho slogan on each customer like a benediction. "And have a 'Muy Bueno' day." Ned was proud to have someone like George on his staff. His work ethic was exemplary. He was courteous without being servile.
It was Mary Giereanu's and Justine Flanner's turn at the counter. Mary happened to be in the line George was serving, and Justine in the line Ned was taking orders from. Mary looked up too late and noticed it was George. Dismay filled her face, and she looked around evasively . She could not avoid him seeing her.
"Hello, Mary." George's face with bright with sincere affection. "What would you like to order?"
"Hi, George," she said, with forced cheerfulness. And she gave him her order.
There was no such artificial graciousness between Justine and Ned. They had long since recognized each other as titanic intellects towering above all others, even in the Robot Rumble. But Ned was a rarity among the people Justine was acquainted with; she did not intimidate him; rather, it was she whose gaze faltered first in a contest of stares. She mumbled her order, and Ned acknowledged it with a nod of formal courtesy.
It was Oliver's and Vivian's turn at the counter. George greeted Oliver cheerily. And Oliver gave George his order.
Vivian smiled at Ned warmly. And Ned suddenly became more high-strung than usual. In repeating Vivian's order back to her, he stammered badly. His usual effortless entry of the order items on the keypad became hunt-and-peck. As she concluded her order and left the counter, he visibly tugged at his collar and gulped.
The rush was concluded; all the Robot Rumble members had received their food, and were seated in the booths inside or outside.
Vivian and Oliver sat at an indoor booth. She turned her attention to the counter and showed her glowing smile again. "C'mon, Specks! Come sit with us!" She said to Ned, patted the spot on the seat next to her.
Ned's facial expression was that of a person who has inherited a fortune with the stipulation that he must take up tightrope-walking to obtain it. He glanced over at George, who winked and inclined his head at the booth where Vivian and Oliver sat.
"Hey, Ned," encouraged George, "Go join your friends. I got the counter covered."
Reluctantly, Ned sat on the edge of the seat as far as he could get from Vivian without falling off.
She pulled on his arm, dragging him all the way onto the seat. "C'mon, Specks!" she said again. "I won't bite. Neither will Oliver…unless I tell him to." And she laughed.
To Ned, her laughter was as the pealing of little bells.
So there he was, in the booth, next to Vivian…he in his high-waisted polyester pants, short-sleeved Bueno Nacho manager shirt, and clip-on tie, and her in her tube top and short shorts. Their bare elbows touched, and the delight of it almost sent him into delirium.
Across the booth, Oliver glared down at Ned, and Ned, lifting his chin and looking up, glared back.
"By the way…Specks…"
"Yes, Viv?"
"Congrats on winning the match tonight."
She referred to the title Robot Rumble bout of the evening. Oliver's robot, grandly named the Asgardian Hammer-bot of Valhalla, was squared off against Ned's robot, the Spinneret Spinnaker
Apart from giving his meal order to George Sheldon, Oliver spoke for the first time. "Sheer luck!"
Oliver's voice was dry and gravely; it reminded Vivian of a Great Dane's bark. Ned's voice was sharp and nasally; it reminded Vivian of a chihuahua's bark
"Your little board game spinner
"Well, my 'little board game spinner' took out you're Asgardian Hammer-oid of Valhalla!"
"Not 'Hammer-oid'! 'Hammer-bot'!" insisted Oliver officiously.
"No, Oliver! 'Hammer-oid'! As in 'hemorrhoid'!" retorted Ned, goaded beyond measure.
The silence was instantaneous. The buzz of conversation ceased at Ned's uncharacteristic sarcasm. Vivian clapped both hands over her mouth to stifle a screech of laughter. The rest of the Robot Rumble gang, and the Bueno Nacho staff, froze in place and stared in shock at the booth where the drama was occurring.
George Sheldon grinned hugely and flashed a 'thumb's-up' at his assistant manager. Mary Giereanu flashed a disapproving glance at George. Larry Rivederci snorted with laughter. And Justine Flanner looked sourly at the entire proceedings.
His face red with rage, Oliver slowly stood up, looming over Ned across the booth. Ned also stood up, and had to crane his neck to look Oliver eye to eye.
Vivian interposed. "Guys! You're both capable robot builders! Both your robots battled honorably!"
Oliver knotted his fists and fumed.
She reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm. "Oliver! It's okay! Now sit down!"
He stubbornly kept standing.
Vivian's other hand gently closed around Ned's. "He won't back down until you do," she murmured. "He's obstinate like that."
Ned proved to be almost as obstinate. His gaze shifted from Oliver to Vivian.
"C'mon, Specks," she entreated, inaudible to all but him, blinking her violet eyes. "For me? Please?"
Ned was transfixed by his doe-eyed seatmate. Even so did Ivanhoe the Saxon knight kowtow to the charms of the black-eyed Rebecca, and was Ivanhoe's rival the Norman knight Brian de Bois-Guilbert entranced to his utter demise. Vivian's eyes were not black, but they cast the same spell. Ned forbore from further confrontation.
In a lull of conversation, Vivian took out her smartphone and punched up a certain page.
Ned forced himself not to crane his neck, or even direct his line of sight at her cell phone screen. But out of the corner of her eye, he could discern her eyes moving back and forth, and her lips silently mouthing whatever it was she was reading, line by line. Apparently, she was savoring each word. A visible rosy warmth slowly suffused her entire face.
Mealtime ended. As the Robot Rumble-er's had entered the restaurant en masse, they slowly dribbled out in two's and three's.
The first to leave were Justine and Mary. George waved hopefully at them, and neither one deigned to acknowledge him.
Larry was next, going from table to table, regaling everyone with a farewell in the Bernilian language, which he assured them was unpronouncable by human vocal organs. It got laughs from the Robot Rumble membership.
The last to leave was Vivian and her escort.
"C'mon, Vivian!" said Oliver impatiently. "Let's go!"
"All, right, Oliver."
As the Robot Rumble gang filed out of the restaurant, Vivian took Ned's hand in a sincere clasp. "Thanks, Specks, for feeding this mob again. And, by the way," she added slyly, "Great comeback. You got a wicked sense of humor, Specks. You should let it show more. You're too quiet. I like it when you get feisty. I think it's cute." And she smiled a dazzling smile.
Ned became giddy with delight at these words of encouragement.
His eyes followed Vivian through the window like a homing signal as she exited the restaurant and walked to her car.
She waved back at him, and then put her arm through Oliver's.
Watching this, Ned's soul plummeted from the Olympian heights to the Stygian depths. After hearing her golden praise for him he would rather not have seen her bestow any gesture of affection upon Oliver.
George watched Ned watching Vivian and gauged his assistant supervisor's mood as unerringly as a rooster sensing sunrise. "Hey…Ned…"
And Ned slowly turned a bleak face toward George.
George endeavored to offer his boss solace. "I'm sure she hangs out with Oliver just to keep the guys away who want to hit on her. And remember what they say; girls like guys who make them laugh."
Ned smiled joylessly and shrugged futilely. "They" said a lot of things. Like nice guys finishing last. And, as with the last man standing, the guy who took the girl home was the winner. He tried to console himself with the thought that at least Vivian did not use her beauty to lure hordes of male admirers.
He and George were in much the same boat. Mary Giereanu did not lack for male companionship; whether at the school dances, the class ski trips to Mount Middleton, she was usually accompanied by a date; her vivacity made her more popular than even the girls of the Cheer Squad.
Ned sighed; the only friend he was aware of who had worst luck with dating was not even Larry Rivederci. It was Ron Stoppable.
He sighed again; he had a restaurant to manage; it was time to roll up the figurative sleeves and begin the nightly closing regimen. He pitched in, as the crew began to disassemble and clean the grills and soft drink machine, empty the soft ice cream server, straighten up the walk-in fridge, wipe the countertops, tables, and seats, recirculate the food containers, restock the taco and burrito lines for the next day, clean out the restrooms, and finally mop the floors. And while the cleaning was underway, Ned tallied the day's receipts, first at the counter terminals, then in the office.
The exterior lights blinked out. Then the interior lights. All the crew left one by one. Second-to-last to leave was George Sheldon. Calling out a "Goodnight, Ned," he exited the door, mounted his bike, and pedaled off. Last to leave was Ned Mundo, locking the doors behind him. In a few hours, with the sun up, the day manager and day shift would appear, and start the whole operation up again.
A battered old beater of a midsized Chevy with a loud muffler was idling in the Bueno Nacho Parking lot. A flickering lighted sign was atop the car. Checkered Cab Of Lowerton. The driver was a middle-aged scruffy looking hippie type, wearing patched jeans and khaki jacket.
The car door groaned as Ned opened it. "Hey, Bowser."
"Yo! Ned-man! Usual stop?"
"Yeah."
The cab pulled into the lot of the local Tri-City National Bank branch. Ned made a drop at the night depository. Then the cab turned south.
"So…Ned-man…what's up, bro?" queried Bowser.
"Nothing too spectacular. Another busy night feeding the Robot Rumble crowd."
"I hear you, dude. It's been busy night for me with all the high rollers for fares." And he laughed in self-depreciation. "Actually, you're my highest roller tonight. We drew straws down at the garage who was gonna pick you up, and I won."
"Always a pleasure, Bowser. I don't know if I could find a single thing to complain about from any of your drivers."
"Hey…while I'm thinkin' of it, my son wants to thank you for the Game Kid handheld. He tells me that it can play more games than the newest model."
Ned shrugged. "I'm glad he likes it. I made the modifications myself."
"And my daughter wants to thank you for the autographed picture of Team Possible. She thinks the little Rufus footprints are really cute. I think she has a crush on Ron."
"A lot of girls do. And a lot of guys are stuck on Kim."
Bowser winked roguishly in the rearview mirror. "How 'bout you, dude? Stuck on Kim yourself?"
Ned shook his head. "Huhn uh. That would kind of complicate things between me and Ron. And I'm kind of 'stuck on' somebody else."
"You're a class act, Ned-man. Does the lady know?"
"Not yet."
"Ned-man…"
"Yeah, Bowser?"
"I don't mean to pry…but…I gotta ask… You're our best customer. For the money you drop on cab fare every night, plus what you must pay in rent now, you could find yourself a decent place up here in Middleton. Plus, you tip like you're Philippe freakin' Bouillon. Why, for the luvva Mike, are you livin' in that fire trap?"
"I admit, it's kind of a welfare motel."
"Dude…that place makes a welfare motel look like a yuppie bed-and-breakfast getaway."
Ned sighed. "It's a long story, Bowser. It has to do with…family issues."
Bowser shrugged. "Like I said, dude…don't wanna pry. But at least let me come and fix the place up a little. Y'know…patch that hole in the plaster. I got some carpentry skills. Nothing to compare with your computer skills, but I could make the place a little more livable. The owners…whoever they are…sure as heck aren't gonna spend any of their loose change making improvements."
"Thanks, Bowser. I'll think about it."
Bowser let Ned off at the curb, and waited until he was at the building door before departing. As he pressed the gas pedal, the engine sputtered, backfired with a bang, and the car chugged off.
Ned waved at the departing cab, and turned to the building. One street light was working. The grass was overgrown. Some of the building windows were boarded up; others were merely broken out and gaping open. Bowser was right; the place was hardly the Sheraton of Lowerton.
Or maybe this was Lowerton's poshest lodging, after all; Ned chuckled mirthlessly at the thought. Opening the door, he navigated the hallway; lit by one bare bulb, it was darker than the exterior. Smells like musty carpet, decayed food, and unflushed latrines permeated. Noises issued from behind various doors, a couple's shouting match here, blaring rock music there. Fumbling with the key in the dark, he opened the door to his apartment.
Closing the door behind him, Ned sighed in relief; safe in his sanctum at last. Clicking on the light, he navigated around the stacks of fanzines and graphic novels, empty appliance boxes, and piles of clothes. It was barely more habitable here than outside; but the jumble was his, and that made it tolerable.
He eagerly logged on to his desktop computer and onto the website. Hello, Fritha, he typed.
She was awaiting him. Hello, Philip, she answered.
to be continued
A /N
Let's get this squared away.
First, this chpt. takes place before the KP episode Grudge Match, wherein we are introduced to Vivian Frances Porter, Oliver, and the membership of the Robot Rumble.
Second, George Sheldon is the friendly Bueno Nacho counterman seen ever so briefly in the Ron Millionaire episode. I dreamed up this pairing for a character in my Heroine's Legacy fanstory, Suzie Sheldon, who exists in the 2070's. Her great-grandparents are Mary Giereanu and George; Mary is referred to by name in the A Sitch In Time episode. There is a conversation thread at the KP fansite RonStoppable-dot-net that links her name to the unnamed Girl-In-Blue seen in so many KP episodes. Their backstory was inspired by the Vivian-dash-Ned pairing that inspired this story. Am working on their fic with all the Geological Slowness that I write all my fanstories.
Third, Oliver's last name, 'Octillio', is derived from the word 'octillion', which is the number '1' followed by twenty-seven zeros, or 1x1027.
I needed something geeky-sounding and alliterative; and besides obsession with sci-fi, fantasy, robotics, and 'shippiness, what's more geeky than big numbers? And, as we see in the Grudge Match episode, Oliver is in reality a robot built by Vivian for the express purpose of fending off guys who might try to proposition her.
Fourth, the Club Tourmaline, a trendy spot in Upperton, where someone of Vivian's appearance might stereotypically frequent more than the Robot Rumble; it's a name I concocted; tourmaline is a gem, and the word has a stylish sound.
Fifth, Vivian's nickname for Ned: 'Specks'; it's a convention of EM-C's Vivian-dash-Ned story.
Sixth, Ivanhoe the Saxon knight, "black-eyed" Rebecca, and Brian de Bois-Guilbert the Norman knight are all characters from the classic novel of chivalry, Ivanhoe, by Sir Walter Scott.
Seventh, Justine Flanner's perpetual disdain for lesser mortals; this is demonstrated in the episode Partners, which also depicts the team up of DNAmy and Drakken, Mr. Barkin's choice of groups for the Science Fair, and the incident with the giant reptilian creature. In that episode, Justine and KP did indeed reconcile, but we further see how disreputably Kim and Ron were treated by the Justine and the Robot Rumble members in the Grudge Match episode.
Time out for a Soapbox Moment by your friendly fanwriter. Disdain is an equal-opportunity vice; atheists and religionists; socialists and capitalists; liberals and conservatives; sexually gay and sexually straight; jocks and geeks; on and on, et cetera, ad infinitum, ad nauseam. I see it occurring across the spectrum of humanity, in every land, in every time and place. Our Side is enlightened and open-minded; Their Side is bigoted and narrow-minded. Our Side has the courage of its convictions; Their Side is intransigent and stubborn.
To my way of thinking, a hard attitude is a hard attitude, and from a distance, it looks pretty much the same on either side; it's very taxing trying to figure out how the smugness and condescension of Faction Alpha toward the insularity and intransigence of Faction Beta is inherently better; both attitudes look like close kin, if not identical twins. Like the old saying goes, if it walks, flies, swims, and quacks like a duck, it's a duck…not a swan in disguise.
But I digress; back to the annotations.
Eighth, Bowser the cabbie is inspired by several characters. His name is from the vocalist of Sha-Na-Na, the 1950's-style singing group. His occupation is from the Reverend Jim Ignatowski, the burnout taxi driver played by Christopher Lloyd, on the old Taxi TV sitcom. And his personality is taken from Cheech and Chong, when they were doing their movie personas, which was like a pothead equivalent of Laurel and Hardy. And of course, Tommy Chong appeared in That Seventies Show, as a burnout school bus driver.
Ninth, Ned's name; my man EM-C emphasized in his fic No Man Knows My Story that nobody knows Ned's last name, to highlight his anonymity. In my obsessiveness, I've given him a last name, and a full name. "Ned Mundo" derives from the recurrent KP trope of plays on words, as in the name "Edmundo".
His full name, "Edward Estlin Esau Mundo" is derived from a couple sources. First, "Edward Estlin" is the full name of the poet E. E. Cummings; for more on my obsession with E. E. Cummings, consult chpt. 1 of my fic Literary. Second, the name "Esau" is both alliterative and symbolic; it's meant to represent Ned's isolation from the rest of the world. Esau got tricked out of his inheritance by his brother Jacob.
Tenth, the biggie; there's an old story that got made into a movie…several times. 1940: The Shop Around The Corner, directed by Ernst Lubitsch, and starring Margaret Sullivan and Jimmy Stewart. 1949: In The Good Old Summertime, directed by Robert Z. Leonard, starring Judy Garland and Van Johnson. 1998: You've Got Mail, directed by Nora Ephron, and starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.
They're all based on a play, Illatszetár, aka Parfumerie, written by a Hungarian playwright, Miklós László, who emigrated to American before the outbreak of World War II.
With minor differences, the basic plot is the same; a man and women working for the same firm, or rival firms doing the same business, dislike each other face-to-face, but are crazy in love with each other via their letters to each other.
I therefore do homage to this unique pairing in the KP universe-Vivian Frances Porter and Bueno Nacho Ned, courtesy of The Enduring Man-Child. My man EM-C, as he is known, has graciously granted me permission to borrow his pairing.
Some days my plot bunny is as silent as a ground hog on a sunny February 2. Some days he's as hyper as the Caffeine Patch Lady in Meet The Robinsons.
Vivian appeared in the Grudge Match episode in Season 2 of Kim Possible. Ned appeared in numerous episodes, most prominently Bueno Nacho, So the Drama, Grande Size Me, Larry's Birthday, and Grudge Match.
I use for my canon source material both the K.P. show and the stories of EM-C. He establishes such specifications as Ned's slovenly domicile and Viv's terms of endearment for him: "Specks" and "Nedders".
I love the idea of these two trying to find their relationship 'style'. Vivian, as we see her on the show, is a Nerd Girl who geeks out at a good Robot Rumble match. She is also a highly respected scientist who publishes articles in the respected professional periodicals and strives for peer recognition-all in the appearance of a drop-dead-gorgeous young lady.
Ned, as we see on the show, is the fussy high-strung (some would say conscientious) restaurant manager-in addition, as portrayed by EM-C, is himself an intellectual prodigy-with unfortunate emotional and relational issues. He has never blossomed scholastically or professionally the way Vivian has. Instead, he finds personal fulfillment in a world bound by smaller horizons. He takes pride in running a tight ship and providing customer satisfaction at Bueno Nacho. He is also a frequenter of the Robot Rumble and the comic book shop.
They both revel in the Robot Rumble. They also both have such high nasal voices. Such a thing would get on my nerves-even as there are annoying things with real-life couples, no matter how idyllic. (I wonder if this ever occurred to EM-C.)
The comic book store; according to EM-C, the Nerd Nirvana.
I had a couple outer names picked out; the Dungeon Tamer's Den and Darth Megaton's Dungeon. We'll see what the Plot Bunny decrees.