Futurama

It's quiet in here most of the time. I don't like it and it shouldn't be, because all I can do is think. Think think think think think, is all I do around here anymore, and do I get thanked for it? The hell I do. All the thinking I do, and they none of them notice how sorry I am - they just sit and judge behind closed walls and minds, they don't care about me at all. How sorry I am doesn't enter into it, just judge judge judge judge-ity judge all day every day, like I'm not even there, but I am I have to be otherwise why would they think about me?

Y'see?

But I still see their faces, even here – and they keep staring - just staring.

They didn't fight back, either.

---

I can see it all on the inside of my head, the inside of these walls - some TV show I don't like, can't get rid of and these walls are so blank, y'know, so it's the only show in town! Ain't that a hoot?

---

It starts with a chase. It's me and two folks, Fast Folks and mysterious because I can't see their faces but I know they're important because they know me, know me by name and how many people in the sewer know some girl from the surface? Some alien girl, some one-eyed freakish girl with her hair and her boots and abandonment issues, so why would they know me? But they do know me 'cause they said my name, my real name the way it's supposed to be pronounced and said so that means they really really know me, because who else than somebody that really knows me knows my first name comes second? But I keep following them because I have to, I have to, I have to know why they know and who they are and also, why the hell are they wearing hooded robes? Isn't it summer?

We chase and chase and chase and chase until I think my legs are gonna fall off, and then we get to that house again, only this time the door's locked and that idiot Fry used himself as a battering windowbreaker, but it's no problem 'cause I'm limber and know kung-fu so what do I do? Shimmy shammy up the pole streetlamp nearby and onto the roof, that's what I do, buster. I get on the trail and not nobody's gonna shake me off - not when I'm this...

Did I mention the staring? Because it's really starting to put a damper on the proceedings. I hate dampers, kinda like the way I hate Pampers but then I haven't worn a diaper been a baby in years, nu-uh, not me!

Not me, no no no. Not much more.

---

Across the roof and down down down the hole like Santa-sicky-ikey-o. Pss-hycho. Y'know.

Santa; now there's a freakulon, somethn'-goin-on. Then again, is someone really a jerk if that's the only thing they can be, what they're programmed to be? Discuss among yourselves, but I'd have to say survey says a big heaping helping steaming load of 'yes' to that one.

Don't make me rush this, rush rash push pull shove this. This is difficult enough with one eye, and then there's the one eye to deal with, okay?

Okay. Big big 'o', teeny tiny weeny 'k'.

So up and over and down the chute like that stupid droid, and face to face are we. Me, inquisitor-hunter and mother of huntresses, they meek and yapping and prey and cornered. So I'm confused and mad and I say some words and they stay with the unmoving mouths and I say some more words and they still won't move the jaws on the faces and I see it the the on the wrist like mine and now more more more words, still nothing else other than these these these words, out of my mouth and I'm mad *mad* MAD AND WHY WON'T THEY -

Oh. So they did.

So they did what they did what they did what they did and the hammer's back, hammer's coming down, pipe down lights down head down right now for the big finish and lights and beeping and crashing and 'Noooo'-ing and clicking and and pulling and screaming and yelling and pulling. And sobbing. And I'm home. I'm home 'cause I see her face see the eye and when the hood's gone, yeah the one eye and aren't tentacles a neat idea instead of arms doncha think? It's nice what they did with the place.

And I'm finally home.