Bob Gets A Job (mixed fanfic just for giggles)

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Bob Gets A Job (mixed fanfic just for giggles) Empty Bob Gets A Job (mixed fanfic just for giggles)

Post  frenchsnake on Mon Jul 05, 2010 7:52 pm

I feel like posting this, mostly because I haven't really posted fanfics before. This is a little story I wrote for Michael some time ago, though I haven't yet finished it. I'm going to post chapter 1 of 5 for now, and if anyone ever reads it and/or Kaibaland doesn't die, I'll keep posting the chapters. Here's the cast of characters that Michael chose for me to work with:

Cast of Characters
*Hapless bystander/victim: Arnold J. Rimmer (Red Dwarf)
*Anti-Hero: Bob (Bob and George)
*Sidekick: ďJowyĒ (aka Joey Wheeler) (Yu-Gi-Oh)
* But with the New York accent
*Misc. Anime: Aisha Clan Clan (Outlaw Star)
*Brainiac: Weasel (Cable and Deadpool)
*Villain, Serious: Darkseid (DC universe)
Kalibak - son of Darkseid
*Villain, Comical: The Head Martian (Mars Attacks)
*Guest Starring: Michael

And here's what I did with them.

Chapter 1 - Bob gets a job

Scene I - On planet Apokolips

(Darkseid is cursing a recent defeat while Desaad listens, doing his best not to look like an easy outlet for Darkseidís anger. Wisely, no parademons are in sight.)

Desaad: Youíre angry now, master, but this effort wasnít a complete setback. In fact, while you were away, Iíve been working on --

(Thereís the sound of weapons fire outside)

Darkseid: Curse these mortals! How could they follow me back here? Why werenít you working on the security system rather than some foolish new endeavor, Desaad?!

Desaad: Master, the work Iíve been doing --

(The door blows open, smoke billowing in from the hall. After a moment, a short creature wearing a blue cloak and a glass dome over its head walks in with a small escort.)

Darkseid: A pitiful attempt to invade my realm! Who are you?


Darkseid: Fetch the universal translator, Desaad, so you can question the survivors. (prepares to use his omega beams)

Desaad: Thereís no need, master. Iíve heard this language before. I can translate--

Darkseid: Are you questioning me again, wretch?

Desaad: No, never, Darkseid. Iíll get it for you, but I thought youíd like to know that they hail from the planet Mars.

Darkseid: The one near Earth? Then what are they doing here?


Desaad: They took a wrong turn.

Darkseid: Preposterous! Earth is within sight of Mars!

Desaad: He said they stopped for directions, and then ended up here. And their destination may not have been Earth.

Darkseid: Earth always seems to be the first destination. It will be a miracle if some planet or other doesnít destroy it before I unlock the Equation. But how could they get here without a Boom Tube? Thatís impossible!

Martian: ACK!

Desaad: Thatís how lost they were.

Darkseid: And so they decided on an invasion of my realm instead? Utterly foolish. Iíll destroy them, and then you can see if any use can be drawn from their pathetic weapons.

Desaad: There may be a better use for them, master. Please observe the view screen.

Darkseid: (looks, sees thousands of Martian ships in orbit) I seeÖ You are correct, Desaad. If they can be molded to my purpose, these creatures may provide the troops I need for a new assault. The people of Earth will not be expecting my return so soon, before Iíve had time to strengthen my army again. And where is that translator?

Desaad: (finds it) Itís broken, Darkseid.

Darkseid: Broken?!

Desaad: It appears that one of the parademons was fiddling with it for some reason.

Darkseid: Those fools! I will make them rue the day they thought it wise to touch my things! Very well, you will continue to translate, Desaad, until it has been repaired. Let us make plans.

Scene II - some college in America, planet Earth

(Bob is back in the real world, post-Megaman Universe adventures. He and George have been sent off to college by their mother in order to find real jobs, where their activities as superhero and super-villain continue in their spare time. Bob is currently sitting on his bed in his dorm room, working on a computer. He still has flame-red hair, and heís wearing all black.)

Bob: This damn essayÖ If I donít get an A on this, that womanís house is a barbecue pit.

Joey: (entering the room) Yo, roomie! Whatícha doin dere?

Bob: First paper of the semester. I suppose you havenít heard about it, since you havenít been to class yet.

Joey: Hey, no schoolís pinniní down Joey Wheeler! At my old school, we skipped class awl da time ta play childrenís card games, aní I still graduated.

Bob: No wonder you talk like an idiot. Where are you from, anyway?

Joey: Japan!

Bob: Japan?

Joey: Yep!

Bob: Youíre blond, and you talk like an inner-city New Yorker.

Joey: I learned ta talk good from da movies.

Bob: And you dye your hair?

Joey: Nope. Idíza side effect oí anime.

Bob: Great, an anime freak. Why donít you go play some video games or annoy someone else while I finish this.

Joey: Sheesh, I didní take you fer such a workaholic. What gives?

Bob: I need to do enough work now to get a good grade and still have time to skip when I want to later. If I donít keep these pointless grades up, something terrible will happen.

Joey: Like what?

Bob: Mom.

Joey: Huh. Iím not sure I have a mom.

Bob: Not sure?

Joey: Well, Iíve never seen her on-screen, so Iím guessiní I doní have one.

Bob: Yeah, whatever. Now get lost.

(Suddenly, an instant message pops up on Bobís computer via Skype. It says, ďNapalm.Ē)

Bob: Huh. Interesting. (Accepts the call, audio and video. A man appears on the other end of the line.)

Bob: Did you want something?

Weasel: They call me Weasel. We need your help.

Bob: You know, helpingís not something I usually do, unless youíre suicidal. How did you know who I am?

Weasel: I have my ways. Listen, youíre the only one who has the tools we need for this job.

Bob: So youíre planning on robbing me.

Weasel: Not really, no. This is mercenary work.

Bob: Iíd say thatís a step below super-villain, wouldnít you?

Weasel: This job isnít without reward, you know.

Bob: (thinking: College tuitionÖ) Well, what DO you want?

Weasel: You have a device that could bring you here in a matter of seconds. Iíll give you the address, and you come on over so I can tell you what we need you for.

Bob: Fine, I was almost done here anyway. Give me ten minutes, and Iíll be there.

Weasel: Great. Hereís the address. By the way, bring him along with you.

Bob: Who?

Weasel: That guy behind you, the one with the stupid expression.

Bob: Whatever.

Scene III - at Weaselís apartment, ďMarvel UniverseĒ

(Weasel is sitting at a computer. Suddenly, thereís a flash of light and a booming sound, and Bob and Joey are standing in the room. Bob is still dressed all in black, but with a slight super-villain edge to it now and sunglasses, and heís got a small cannon-type device on his arm.)

Joey: Aw, man! Not more freaky magic!

Bob: Magic. Right. Just shut up for a minute, will you?

Weasel: Wow, right on time, too. What were you doing, anyway?

Bob: Just doing a little homework, Jack.

Weasel: Ö How did you--?

Bob: I have my ways, chump. Now what do you want? And this had better be good, or you and blondie here take a little job as my college stress-relievers.

Joey: You want a massage?

Bob: Shut up.

Weasel: Hey, do you want to hear about the job or not?

Bob: Not really, but I have a little free time, so spit it out.

Weasel: Listen, thereís something big going down pretty soon, or so we think. Thereís these aliens--

Joey: (to Weasel) Hey, doní I know you from a comic book?

Bob: Iím surprised you find time to even read a comic book, since all you talk about are your stupid card games.

Joey: Watch it, man, card games are serious business!

Bob: (powering up his blaster) Iíll give you serious, blondie.

Weasel: Comic book?

Joey: Yeah, youíre always hanginí around wit dat guy Deadpool, right? Whereís he at?

Weasel: Ö

Bob: This was a trap, wasnít it.

Weasel: No, I justÖ donít want to talk about Deadpool.

Bob: What, did he dump you? (smirking)

Weasel: Yeah, right. Deadpoolís my business associate. Heís the one I usually give the jobs to when someone needs a mercenary or puts out a reward.

Joey: Or puts out a contract on someone! Peeps be gettiní deep-sixed!

Bob: Sounds like fun. Shut up. (to Weasel) So why isnít he here right now?

Weasel: We had aÖ little disagreement, and I havenít seen him for a while. I think heís in Egypt or something.

Bob: (notes several slash marks on Weaselís chair, as from a sword) Iíll have to meet him. So, once again, what do you want me to do? And why did you want the blondie here?

Weasel: Right. See, thereís these aliens, funky little green men from Mars. We got a tip-off that they were headed for Earth, some kind of invasion, fleets of ships; you know, the usual.

Bob: So you want me to stop an alien invasion?

Weasel: Not exactly. Problem is, they should have been here by now. I need you to find them.

Bob: Ö So you want me to cause an alien invasion?

Weasel: No! You just have to find them, really. Find out where they went, and why they got delayed. And mostly, keep them from ever reaching Earth.

Bob: Oh, I get it. I use my dimensional transporter to find them, then give them the blondie and wait for them to die of stupidity.

Joey: Hey, I got second place in da Duelist Kingdom tournament! Iím hot stuff!

Bob: Youíre a flaming something, all right.

Joey: Why I oughtta-- Ooh, shiny! (wanders off to look at computers with flashing lights)

Weasel: Well, I figured you could use him to help if you have to fight. I mean, I heard you guys both have some pretty serious powers.

Bob: Unless you mean the power to terminally annoy, then no, I donít think so.

Weasel: (in a low voice) Wait, doesnít George have superpowers too?

Bob: George?

Weasel: You know, your brother. I was looking to bring in both of you for this job. Isnít that George? I heard he had lots of blond hair and looked a littleÖ slow.

Bob: (thinking: I can handle this without Georgeís help. Besides, he would just keep me from having any funÖ) (to Weasel) George? Yes. Yes he is.

Joey: Hey, díyou have any ice cream around here? Or childrenís card games?

Weasel: Oh, I guess he is. Whatís with the card games?

Bob: Of course he is. Forget the card games. Itís a phase. The real question is, whatís with all the flashing lights?

Weasel: (looking at computers) Huh. It looks like thereís another dimensional jumper coming in.

Bob: Cool. (starts powering blaster again)

(With a pop, a man materializes in the room with them. Heís fairly tall and wearing some kind of drab uniform, with a big metallic H on his forehead.)

Rimmer: Where the smeg am I??

Joey: In America!

Bob: The next time I have to tell you to shut up, blondie, itís my blaster doing the talking. (to Rimmer) That depends, where did you come from?

Rimmer: America? Hardly better than where I came from. Kryten had better be pretty sodding quick figuring out that device.

Bob: (points blaster at Rimmer)

Weasel: It would be in your best interests to talk to us now.

Rimmer: Now hold on a minute! I-I didnít mean to come here! Holly invented yet another bloody device for getting back to Earth faster, and of course they all decided to try it on me first.

Joey: Awesome! Back ta Earth from where?

Rimmer: I came from the Jupiter mining ship Red DwarfÖ which, Iíll have you know, I am the captain of. Captain Arnold J. Rimmer!

Bob: Mining Jupiter? Yeah, right. That planetís made of gas, captain.

Rimmer: That ship happens to belong to the Jupiter Mining Corporation, and, Iíll have you know, is the best of its kind. And Iíll thank you to treat shipís captain with a little more respect.

Bob: Iím sure you would, Captain Gas-bag. So if youíre the captain, why did they test some dangerous machine on you first?

Rimmer: Isnít it obvious? I canít let a member of my crew take that risk. Itís the captainís duty to protect his crew, even when theyíre a bunch of goits.

Bob: Iíll be sure and keep that in mindÖ (smirking, still keeping his weapon ready)

Weasel: Hey, Bob. Before we get rid of him, I need to ask him a few questions. (to Rimmer) Since youíre from a spaceship, so you say, did you happen to see any Martians flying around out there?

Rimmer: Donít be a gimp. There are no Martians, except for the colonists from Earth, and no one really wants to go to Mars in the first place.

Bob: (aside to Weasel) So, you figure time, dimension, or idiot?

Weasel: Probably all three.

Joey: Hey, can I ride in the spaceship, space man?

Rimmer: You? Of course not! You have to have some very refined skills to join the crew of a mining vessel, which I, of course, excel at.

Bob: Hey, blondieís actually got a point. Letís take this guyís spaceship, if he actually has one, and use that to go find the Martians.

Rimmer: What??

Bob: Youíve got three seconds to point us in the direction of your ship before I disintegrate every cell of your body

Rimmer: Just perfect. Iíve now been threatened by GELFs, horrible space monsters, and Americans. I can die happy.

Bob: If thatís what you want--

Rimmer: W-wait! Now that I think about it, my ship would be happy to invite you gentlemen onboard! You can consider it a vacation. My ship isÖ up there somewhere. (points vaguely up)

Bob: Whatever. Iíll just program it into my blaster, and it should take us there, at least close.

Joey: Hey, not fer nothiní, but wouldní ďcloseĒ drop us right in space?

Weasel: (interrupting before Bob can kill Joey with his blaster) Hey Bob, before you go, I can tell you who it was who reported--

Bob: You know, I donít really care. Iím going to get started before these two go the way of the Toaster.

Weasel: What does that mean?

Bob: I have no idea. Catch you later. (opens portal with his blaster, pushes Joey and Rimmer through and the follows)

Weasel: (after portal closes) You know, maybe hiring a super-villain to save the planet wasnít really such a good ideaÖ

Scene IV - in space

(A portal opens in a ship and leaves Bob, Joey and Rimmer standing there. The bridge is fairly small, probably designed for about four or five people to work there at most at a time, and the walls are red. The seats are a nice red leather. Itís a nice-looking ship, though one gets the impression that the rest of it isnít much bigger.)

Bob: Not bad. This your ship?

Rimmer: UhÖ yes, of course! Itís small and red, isnít it? Red Dwarf!

Bob: Ö Okay, where the hell are we?

(Suddenly, a loud music comes over the loudspeakers. It sounds like itís in Japanese, very energetic.)

Bob: Hey blondie, whatís that music saying?

Joey: How should I know?

Bob: Youíre from Japan, arenít you? Donít you speak Japanese?

Joey: Ö UmÖ maybe?

(At that moment, the only door to the bridge opens.)

Rimmer: Oh smeg, itís the Japanese! I didnít mean to invade your ship, I swear!

Voice: Kisama! You think you can take my ship and live to tell about it?!

(A man steps through the doorway and poses, hands on his hips. Heís very tall and has a long red cape on, and a diverse collection of weapons on his belt.)

Rimmer: Eep!

Bob: Your ship, huh? Happen to see any Martians around here?

Michael: Donít change the subject! And no!

Aisha: I did!

(A girl steps out from behind Michael. She has dark skin and white hair, and ears, tail and fangs like a cat.)

Michael: Whatíchou talkiní Ďbout? I would have remembered if we had run into Martians!

Aisha: I was the only one on the bridge, okay? You were sleeping, and these little green guys just asked for directions towards Earth, and how am I supposed to know where that is?

Bob: Uh-huh. And where did you send them?

Aisha: Ö UhÖ that way? (points vaguely)

Bob: Just great. Weíre not going to get too far when everyone I talk to just points. I might as well be asking a monkey.

Aisha: Hey!

Joey: Ooh, a cat-girl!

Michael: (grinning) Every ship needs a cat-girl, donít you think?

Rimmer: A hell of a lot better than what weíve gotÖ

Bob: Anyway, who are you guys?

Michael: This is my ship, and Iíll be asking the questions! Iím Michael, Space Otaku and Adventurer Extraordinaire! HA haha ha ha!

Joey: Den whyíd you answer him?

Aisha: And Iím Aisha Clan-Clan, of the Ctarl-Ctarl, 2nd in command on this ship! Who are you??

Bob: Iím Bob. Iím looking for Martians.

Michael: Oh. Well, I suppose I can take time out of my busy schedule to help you. But youíre all going to become part of my crew! Oh, and your friend with the H on his head can stop cowering, too.

Joey: Whaí happení ter yer old crew?

Michael: UhÖ vacation?

Joey: Whaí abouí da cat-girl?

Michael: Oh, I just picked her up somewhere.

Bob: Whatever. Letís get going, then.

Joey: Awright! Now IíM a space-man!

Bob: Baka.

Next Chapter: Bob in Space!

Bob Gets A Job (mixed fanfic just for giggles) Giftforfrenchsnake
Bob Gets A Job (mixed fanfic just for giggles) Egg03061 Bob Gets A Job (mixed fanfic just for giggles) 91787

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