[PROJECT: TEAMWORK] Goodbye, Paradise

Francine clenched the cold handle of her gun. The icy grip chilled the dirty palm of her hand. However, the barrel pressed against her temple was colder than any gun grip. Francine's brown eyes flashed with anger as she stared forward at her opponent -- a tall "battlebot" that had once been chrome was covered in grimy dirt; it almost looked human with a torso and a spherical head that bobbed when it mechanically walked. Francine merely scoffed as the towering cyber being jabbed her with its attached machine gun. She was beautiful. Her tiny coils of black hair shot in every direction held up strategically by a blue headband her Uncle had given her. Her face seemed solid rather than round and emanated determination. The only thing that wasn't calculated and angry about her face was her soft red lips. Her eyebrows arched elegantly, and her mouth, the same. She pursed her lips for a moment and narrowed her eyes then gave a very subtle half-smile not caught by the cameras displaying her every move to the audience.

The nation sized stadium, trapping her, surged with cheers as Francine spat at the machine in front of her. The machine had been programmed to kill her with no mercy. Francine knew exactly what to do. She slyly reached into her pocket and switched the music player which was attached to a cord that slid up her cotton shirt into her ears on. "Rhapsody in Blue" composed by George Gershwin (her favorite) surged through her head as she clenched her fist. She laughed to herself, not exactly fighting music, I guess. She loudly gasped and melodramatically announced, "Oh no. Oh no, it - it killed me. It's all over." Francine fell backward as the crowd let out an even more dramatic gasp. Dust clouded around her muscular body and stained her white t-shirt. The robot turned off, its task had been accomplished.

With no time lost, Francine jumped up - and with the accompaniment of a wild saxophone - she shot the robot right in the tiny target on its "torso". A metallic clang followed as it fell to the dusty ground. When the cloud of dust parted Francine was shown as victor on the high definition monitors all around the stadium. Her chest pounded as she waved to the crowd. Her bronze skin, which was covered in dust, contrasted her brilliant white teeth smiling at the crowd. "Thank you!" she shouted, "I'll be here all week!" Her voice was rather quiet and still for such an emulated fighter. The crowd laughed.

She walked off the field and adjusted her headband in the mirror inside the locker room. Before she could shower, Joanne Fitzgerald sneaked up on her and hugged her violently. "I 'aven't seen you in forever," Joanne said with a grin.

Joanne was Francine's closest friend next to her Uncle. She was a caucasion from Great Britain. Her hair was pulled up playfully into a sort of bun-pony tail. Joanne's eyes were a creamy blue that almost looked like moon grey. She wore heavy make-up which even more accentuated her slightly large lips. She was never able to stand still, always impatiently rocking vigorously to some sort of imaginary rock tune that played in her head or shifting from foot to foot. It was this poignant enthusiasm that foiled Francine's calm humble demeanor that made the "opposites attract" line a fact.

"Jesus, Jo, you scared me," Francine said with a grin.

"I'm good at that!" Joanne giggled.

"God, girl, how are you? I haven't seen you around her in awhile," Francine said.

"I've been back 'ome. My mum took ill and I went back to 'elp her," Joanne explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is she alright now?"

"Yeah, a bit of rest and fluids did it. It turns out it was just the common cold, but it nearly killed 'er. I dunno what it was. Maybe, some rare strand of the cold, I guess," Joanne explained, "Anyway, I thought she'd gotten that virus thing goin' around Australia, y'know?"

"No, is there some Australian virus I should know about?" Francine said knitting her brows.

"Oh yeah, Frannie Bean! It's all over the news! It's like they're becoming zombies and no one knows just 'ow or what it is," Joanne said with wide scared eyes, "No one knows 'ow to stop it either."

"Wait...zombies? Like /Night of the Living Dead/ zombies? What?" Francine said shaking her head.

"I know, right?! Like we're in some sort of sci-fi movie or somethin'. S'pretty scary if ya ask me. I'm glad I don't have any Australian vacations planned, y'know?" Joanne laughed.

Francine frowned and shook her head lost in thought. Joanne cocked her head at Francine playfully. "What?"

"Oh...nothing," Francine said averting her eyes.

"No, what, Frannie Bean?"

"Just that...I dunno. It just sounds like it has Nienon all over it-"

"Oh, dammit Frannie, not this crap again. That woman is long dead," Joanne sighed, "Besides, how in the bloody 'ell is that woman going to start a fucking virus? You're being ridiculous."

"I know. I'm just being paranoid," Francine said rolling her eyes and sighing at herself.

"I gotta get going, Frannie. I have a match in about twenty minutes. Wish me luck," Joanne said kissing Francine's cheek.

"Alright, good luck. They're pretty relentless today," Francine said.

"Ciao!" Joanne yelled waving to Francine.

Joanne was a Battler just like Francine. Making meager wages to outsmart machines in a giant arena. She loved the thrill of the battle. Francine's whole life was a battle. Three years ago, she wouldn't have won this battle. Three years ago, she was hiding, afraid and bewildered under her writing desk at her school. She wasn't alone, but she couldn't speak. In fact, she wasn't technically battling anyone like she would in the stadium. It was dark and the only light in the room came from the flickering hallway lights sneaking under her dorm room door. She trembled silently as the banging in the hallway sounded nearer. Her thoughts shot off like bottle rockets in every direction under that tiny desk.

It was okay. It was over. She was okay. She'd been okay for hours under that desk. The murders had all been ruthlessly accomplished and she had left the school unscathed. Francine was one of eleven lucky survivors that night at The Chueviltry Utility for True Learning at which hundreds were allegedly murdered by the school's head mistress Nienon Chueviltry. They had failed to be invited to the special program in the auditorium that evening when almost the entire school was murdered and had instead stayed home studying. Her best friend, Natalie Rice, also survived the nightmare that was ignored by police officers across the state. As she and Natalie retreated the school at a maximum velocity, she spoke her last words to the Utility sadly.

"Goodbye, paradise."

The school had been her and Natalie's way of getting back at the society that had wronged them and their families who had done the very same. In that sense, it was paradise.

Francine was a girl of honor. As she walked quickly toward the showers in the locker room, she was lost in thought. "What if CUTL hadn't been shut down?" she said to herself silently.

It was a thought that crossed her mind everyday after the massacre, but one that hadn't applied to her life much in the last year and a half. Natalie's solemn smile flashed through her mind. She stood naked in a shower stall scrubbing the dirt off of her skin as she remembered her best friend. A year and a half ago, she would have cried at the thought. After meeting up with the other ten survivors including Natalie, Francine left. She hid, eternally trembling, in a homeless shelter on Scarlet Avenue. She didn't know if Natalie ever went searching for Francine. Just as well, it would be harder on Francine.

One night at the homeless shelter, she had grown tired of eating soup and sitting alone in a corner. She had grown tired of being weak and just accepting it. She walked out without a word onto the cracked sidewalk of Scarlet Avenue and peered into the darkness. A shady homeless man told her she was beautiful, asked her why such a beautiful woman had turned to Scarlet Avenue's harsh asphalt hoovertown, and gave her some booze to help her forget. It was hard liquor. Francine had no idea what it was, but after three very hearty swigs it didn't taste any different than water. She mumbled lost words at the man as she stumbled out of the alley.

Her childhood, which never existed in the first place, was now irretrievable. She had rode on a beaten up bus three miles to her family's house. Memories of her father's abuse led her to their shed in the backyard. Memories of her Mother's intricate lies of how Francine had gotten bruised made her drunkenly take a sloshing can of gasoline to the back door of the house. Memories of no one caring that she left without even a letter of explanation made her throw it all over the back of the house. Memories of curiously bicycling down her old street and seeing her family eating dinner happily through the large window peering into the dining room without her made her pull a lighter out of her back pocket, touch the tiny flame to the gasoline, light it on fire, and silently leave in a drunken stumble.

Nobody cared about the arson. If nobody in this world was willing to stop a murderer who had 400 notches on their belt, why would they stop a vengeful girl?

Spotlessly clean, Francine now walked triumphantly off to the exit on the right. She would be met by thousands of redneck fans, as usual, begging for autographs. Francine didn't care about the fans or the victory. She wanted to go home and see her Uncle, play an old video game, and sleep on his wooden porch under the moon. Sure, she loved the honor of battle, but she loved her Uncle more. She did take up the job for Uncle Phillip.

They met at the homeless shelter on Scarlet. Well, they actually met at a science clinic a month prior. He was old and lonely, and she was young and lonely.

They bonded with each other instantly. She had received a few dollars for running a few tests at the clinic earlier that month. She planned on giving all of the money she had made at the clinic to her family to deal with her bubbling guilt of the arson on their house. He told her she could make some more if she entered a tournament at the Robofight Stadium in British Columbia, Canada. They made the journey to Canada and entered the tournament immediately. Her wit surpassed any of the monstrous war machines that attacked her and she was successful in all of her beginning battles. So, they moved to Canada together, she began studying martial arts to become a better fighter, and raised the money to pay her parents back.

Phillip had done so much for Francine. He was a scientist specialising in anatomy and was able to help hospitals in the area on busy nights. Phillip was the family that Francine had always wanted and had never been granted before - even when she was polite enough to pay for the damages plus more on her parents' house.

Francine yawned and stared at the archway ahead of her. It was dark and awfully quiet. Where were the fans? "Hello?" she asked aloud. She stopped in confusion. The sweat, which had been beginning to stop, rolled down her forehead in profuse amounts. She stepped forward into the engulfing darkness. A bright smile lit the hallway to the exit. Curly blonde hair that had the same sort of white brightness of the smile almost caused Francine to shield her eyes. It was a woman. A beautiful woman. She stood in the passageway smirking at Francine. "This is quite an honor," the mysterious woman said, "I never expected this to happen. I never expected you to become so popular."

"A - are you a fan?" asked Francine. Francine knew this couldn't be true before she even said it. But for some reason, she was trembling more than she ever had before.

"Good joke, dear. Anyway, I just wanted to come see you. No strings attached. I'm afraid you've made too many fans," the beautiful woman said with an almost sympathetic smile.

Francine had just noticed the two body guards paralleling the beautiful woman when the woman turned and began to leave. "Are you a competitor?" Francine blurted. The woman didn't even turn around. Her long fur coat trailed behind her as her laugh rang through the hallway.

"Wait!" yelled Francine, "Who are you? Who are you?!"

Her voice was lost in a blanket of uproar from the crowd gushing into the hallway. Francine quickly escaped before they noticed her.

She rushed into the washroom and washed the sweat off of her face. This wasn't her. She had been intimidated by that - that prissy woman. Cool, calm, and collected, Francine told herself. She tugged the headband off of her head and washed the tears out of her eyes.

Joanne walked in and noticed Francine washing her eyes out. She approached Francine slowly and asked, "Are you okay?"

Francine jumped at the noise and abruptly replied, "What? Yeah, I'm fine. I - I gotta go."

She slipped out of the exit in the bathroom quietly as Joanne shrugged and walked to the sink. She looked around the parking lot for her bicycle.

The sun set slowly as she pedaled away from the stadium. As she silently rode down the dirt roads leading to her and Uncle's house she replayed the scene in her head many times. When she reached her house she coyly road around the back. She was afraid to talk to anybody right now including her beloved Uncle. Any stern gaze or eye contact could bring her to tears.

Uncle Phillip sat in the living room, watching a late night talk show, waiting for her. His face was wrinkled and freckled. He still had very long white hair and wore thick rimmed glasses. He shot glances at the bay window every few minutes, but was only met by moths hovering around the porch light. Francine stood in the kitchen. She peeked around the corner into the living room to see if he was awake. She knew he was. Of course, her Uncle Phillip was not literally her uncle. She called him that out of respect. She thought he deserved some sort of respectful title. Not Father, Francine hated her Father, and felt that would be more disrespectful then respectful.

The talk show droned on as Francine stood in the kitchen.

"And now from her new movie - based on the Broadway play she starred in too - "Angels Have Everything-"

Phillip turned off the television quickly and turned toward the kitchen.

"Francine?" he said aloud.

"Hi, Uncle," she replied exhausted.

"What's the matter? Are you tired?"

"No, just glad to be home," she said embarrassed as if he could read her worried thoughts. She walked in bashfully and sat on the couch adjacent to him.

"Francine, are you sure you're okay?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Uncle, please, lay off. It was a hard day at the stadium. I think the bots are getting smarter. I've been using the fake death trick everyday this week. It hurts hitting that stupid ground," said Francine.

"Are you sure? Something seems wrong. You and Joanne aren't fighting again, are you?" he said concerned. Francine sat trembling on the couch. She looked around at the dusty room. The walls were covered in unique paintings. The furniture didn't match at all. From door to door, the furniture gets more tacky as you go right up to the itchy orange plaid couch she was sitting on. She loved it.

Francine frowned. "Maybe, I should tell you."

"Did you meet a boy, Francine? Because, you know me, I don't care if-"

"No, no. Nevermind," Francine said staring forward.

"C'mon!"

"This may sound a little odd, but I met this strange lady at the exit. And she had strange body guards and a strange evil laugh. It was - really strange," Francine said with the utmost concern.

"How strange," Phillip chuckled.

"Uncle!"

"Okay, sorry, relax, dear. It was probably just a stadium head from Robowars or some other stadium," he admitted.

"No...maybe...She told me it was an honor to meet me and some other stupid jive. She had - she had bodyguards. You know, it might have been a stadium head. She was black, a little less dark than I am and had this huge fur coat and ditzy blonde hair," Francine said.

"That doesn't sound like a stadium head. Besides, there aren't many women stadium heads. Hmmmm, who do you think it was?" Uncle said scratching his forehead.

"Well, I told you. I don't know," Francine said quiety.

Francine was silent. She didn't know anything else about the woman, so she left it at that. Her silent worries turned into loud chuckles as Phillip and she played a video game. She thought there was a sort of honor, a sort of bragging right to living as comfortably and humbly as they did. She wasn't about to ruin it with falsely confirmed nightmares. However, her loud chuckles became heated indignation as that mysterious woman's laugh couldn't even be stifled by Chopin as she tried to sleep.

Phillip sat in the living room churning a thought over in his mind rubbing his chin. He picked up the dusty remote and hit the power button. The TV crackled as the picture appeared.

"Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you! Ben asked me to marry him! I'm engaged, y'all!"

"How does one propose? Especially when you're Ben Pullman."

"Well, he got on his knees like this. Here, give me your hand, Jerry-"

"Oh...are you proposing, Mrs. Pullman?"

The crowd laughed and applauded as Phillip sighed and pushed the power button again. He was standing now rubbing his forehead and shaking his head. He threw the remote on the couch and flipped the living room light off. He walked over to the front window and dug his hands in his pockets. He watched silently as the moths launched themselves at the light, bounced off, and did it again. A stray moth floated around in front of him in the window. It was white and landed on the glass. Phillip knit his brows and leaned in to get a closer look as the moth seemed to be cocking his head. Possibly attracted by the brightness of its own reflection, the moth stood in the same spot for a good minute. It suddenly pulled itself back and launched itself into its own reflection like the moths above it struggling with the light. Phillip pushed the porch lightswitch down and went to bed.

The next morning, Francine awoke tiredly. She had not been able to sleep. She really wanted to know who this lady was. She wasn't about to be ruined by some smooth talking bitchy blonde haired twit. Francine was angry. Her breakfast with Phillip was short. Neither of them spoke. Francine said quietly, "Bye, Unc."

"Hey, Frannie, how about I come by today?"

Francine smiled.

She tried to enjoy her battles the next day. Reading her worry like a book, Uncle had even come to cheer her on and help her in case the woman returned. By Francine's third battle, her light green shirt had been stained with her dark red blood. Her knuckles were crudely bandage as she cart wheeled around the fight-bot. She tumbled over when a sight up in the stands caught her eye. It was the woman.

Francine stared long and hard at the woman. The woman stared back at her and grinned. Francine narrowed her eyes and as she began to yell "Who are you?" at the woman again, a loud clunk shot through the battle ground. Uncle grimaced as the fight-bot knocked her out and won the prize money. Though, Francine hadn't died it was the first battle Francine had lost in fifteen months.

As she was unconscious, she recalled fishing with her Uncle Phillip Applegate. This slight nostalgia made her rest longer than it should have been. It was then that he revealed his past to her.

He was sixty and had worked as a Research Assistant at the Orangeville Scientific Study and Research Clinic where she had met him for the first time. His time at Orangeville literally became full time a few months before he met Francine. His family and his friends had all abandoned him as he began developing medicine and various things for the United States government. When he returned home after he'd finished his greatest invention, he found a three week old resignation from his wife, cob webs, and all of his things gone. He had no one. So, he quit the clinic and began wandeirng the streets. Specifically Scarlet Avenue, where he visited the homeless shelter.

He met Francine a week before he discovered his family's abandonment when she walked into the clinic. She was drenched in rain and was tired. She told him she'd do whatever would get her the most money. He reluctantly let her into the testing room.

Francine's eyes shot open and she gasped for air. She was in a spotless examination room in the stadium. There was nothing in the room, but her cold metal bed which was covered by a thin paper blanket. There were a few cabinets to the left of her, but she was alone. The door, directly in front of her, swung open and she grinned. She expected to see Phillip, but was discouraged to see that horrible woman.

She sat up, menacingly, and the woman grinned back. Francine's smile faded slowly as she realized who the woman was. Francine opened her mouth but closed it after she realized she had nothing to say. The woman strode over to Francine gracefully. She was wearing a beautiful evening gown adorned with sparkling diamond shaped sequins - in fact, they could have been the real things. Her hair was now a beautiful crimson and hung straight down around her face. She emanated a beautiful smell of expensive perfume.

Her face was beautiful. Light red eye shadow shown brilliantly right above her brown eyes, but slowly faded into her bronze skin. Her elegantly arched eyebrows were lifted and arched just as much as her brilliant white smile.

"Hello," the woman said, "I think we've met before."

She chuckled as if she'd just told the most clever joke ever.

"No! No! You can't be! Nienon must have sent you-"

"Relax, honey. You never met Nienon, she wouldn't have a grudge against you," the woman said.

"What?!" Francine shot back.

"You never went to C.U.T.L., dear. You never met Nienon. Sorry," the woman said rolling her eyes.

She realized she was on her feet in her fighting stance. She wasn't quite sure how long she'd been standing up staring the woman down, but her fists were clenched and ready.

"Please, honey, relax. It may come as a shock to you, but none of that ever happened to you," the woman said still walking toward her slowly, "You never grew up with Marcy, Clarence, and Lucy Rowl. You never walked into Orangeville Scientific Study and Research Clinic. You never met Natalie. You never even burnt their house down. Listen, it's nothing personal, it's just that you're a cyborg. Y'know, an android? No one expected an actual zombie outbreak to happen - let alone in Australia, but they need NATO's help."

Francine's usual trembling had returned. She couldn't believe it. The woman had her face. The woman had her eyes; her mouth; her nose. The woman even knew her past.

"No one expects us to send over actual humans, right? We don't want our neighbors and relatives coming back, undead and all stinky and whatnot. Thankfully, the man you've been staying with, um, Phillip Applehat, I believe, developed an android soldier three years ago. Ring a bell? I was tired and hungry. I went to his clinic and I made an exact copy of myself for some extra cash-"

Francine cut in, "No!" Tears began forming around her eyes, but she held them back. "You're expecting me to forget my whole god damn life! You're expecting me to believe your bullshit story!"

"No, no, listen, everything that happened after you left that clinic is all you, honey. Everything before the clinic only happened to me, you just have the memories. Now, listen. They're sending androids to Australia to fight the zombies, right? It's a terrible world we live in, you know?" the woman said with a fake frown.

Francine didn't believe it. She reached her hand up to her head, wiped some of the scarlet blood in her humid hair onto her hand, and stared at it.

"This can't be. I'm - I'm bleeding for chrissake. I can cry, I can laugh, I'm not some robot like them at the stadium. Now, tell me who you really are," Francine shot back.

"Look at me, honey. I'm you. Well, technically since I came first, you're me. Heh heh, and I can't have another Francine runnin' around, givin' me a bad name. You understand, right? If they send you to Australia to fight the zombies, the world will see it and expect me to explain. I'm not about to admit to the world that I burnt down my parents' house, felt bad, and made a robot copy of myself for a few extra bucks to try and pay them back. And who in their right mind would believe me, honey?"

"How can I be a robot if I remember burning Mom's house down so vividly, honey?" Francine said mockingly.

"Does the term exact copy make any sense to you? You have all of my memories; my thoughts; my life."

Francine stood silent. "Well, why are you bothering me with this now? I can hide, I can change my appearance and just forget this. I'll never bother you."

"Honey, I am premiering in the projected highest grossing film of next year. "Angels Have Everything to Prove," heard of it? I've already gotten three other movie offers. I can't have an exact copy of me running around, whether fighting zombies or fighting in this Podunk stadium in Canada and living with that old man. You could be dropping secrets to the tabloids. Hell, those paparazzis might actually put some of your pictures in the tabloids. People will think it's me, honey. I'm sorry, but your time is up. I can't have you alive."

Francine was heated. She clenched her first, and almost reached into her pocket to flip on "Rhapsody In Blue," but stopped. She was insulted that this woman, technically her, was accusing Francine of sinking to selling secrets to tabloids. In the heat of the moment, Francine jumped at the woman. The Real Francine fell to the floor and hit her head hard on the tile. One of her golden high heels slid across the white tiled floor as she screamed for her body guards.

"You and me, bitch! The stadium! I think I deserve a right at this life!" Francine whispered angrily at The Real Francine's frightened face.

The Real Francine clawed Francine's face, still screaming. Francine pulled back to punch The Real Francine when the door swung into her side. Two body guards pushed her away and pulled the Real Francine up to her feet. "I'll see you there tomorrow," Real Francine said scornfully.

Francine pushed out the door after her. The hallway was spinning. Had her whole life been - nonexistent? She felt like the main character in an ancient episode of The Twilight Zone. They were always nervous, petty people in the plots of those shows. She didn't want to be that kind of person. Francine wanted a happy ending. A happy life with her Uncle.

She didn't want to die. She stumbled out of the hallway and saw Phillip and Joanne standing there waiting for her. His eyes were baggy and tired as he waited for her. Joanne was frowning and shaking her head. Francine felt a bit of resentment for him in the stainless room, but now, she was glad to see her Uncle. Someone who could prove that crazy woman wrong.

"She said something about androids and - and all of this other crazy stuff! Uncle, who is that woman?!"

"Frannie, didn't ya see? She has your face. Sh - she's you."

"Your Uncle told me, Francine. I'm sorry," Joanne admitted staring at her with sad eyes.

Francine put both of her hands to her face to hold back the tears and sunk to the ground. She batted at Phillip as he tried to approached her. "We have to-"

"NO! We don't have to do anything! I'm the one who has to go through this! She's going to kill me!"

"Listen, Francine, you - she said she wanted to do what would give her the most money! I couldn't turn her down! And I didn't turn you over to the government! I couldn't do that!"

"Why? Why couldn't you have warned me?" Francine cried, the tears leaving trails in the dirt on her face.

"I never knew she'd become famous and this would be a problem. I didn't...I didn't expect any of this to ever happen," Phillip admitted silently.

"I'll fight 'er with you, Frannie! C'mon, we can take 'er!"

"Fuck off, Joanne! You fucked me over, Phillip. You fucked me over just - just like my father, my family, Nienon, Natalie, and now myself!" Francine screamed. People had begun to gather around them.

"I...I'm sorry, Francine. I'm so sorry," he said ashamed.

"You're sorry?! She's gonna kill me! How come you never told me anything?! Huh?! Is this a fucking joke?" Francine said. She was now on her feet, staring Phillip down. He was slowly walking toward her.

"Will people quit acting like I'm dangerous?! Just leave me alone! Don't come looking for me ever again!"

Francine pushed him and Joanne aside and ran down the green hallway.

"Frannie! Come on back, you're bleedin' for chrissake!" Joanne yelled to her.

When she arrived at her red bicycle, she was still crying profusely. They dripped onto the handle bars as she drove slowly away from the stadium. She replayed memories in her mind like home videos as she rode down the side of a busy highway. It was frustrating. Before she knew it, she was pulling into Frank Drive.

The rusty white street sign shook slightly in the wind as she approached the street cautiously.

She walked her bicycle up the driveway of number 312. The house was rebuilt after three years of being burnt down. She let the bicycle fall into the lawn of her old home. She closed her eyes and recalled one of her happier memories of home.

Lucy, her younger sister, was still sleeping under her Power Ranger bed sheets. It was Christmas morning. Francine crept into the room and rushed to Lucy's bed. She shook Lucy's shoulder and Lucy's eyes slowly opened. Lucy's long frizzy hair was fanned out around her as she yawned. Francine leaned in and yelled, "Merry Christmas!" Lucy screamed in glee. The girls woke their mother and father two doors down. One of the only happy memories from her time at her home. Her mind flashed to the night of the arson.

They were so vivid, how had she not lived them?

Francine fell to her knees. She closed her eyes tight and tried to remember the rest of her meeting Phillip Applegate. There was something behind it all. She remembered him giving her a sleeping pill, and telling her she'd sleep for a week. Francine remembered waking up, naked. She suddenly remembered the clothed girl who was leaving when she woke up.

"No!" she said silently to the pavement of the driveway. Francine clenched her fists and pulled her bicycle up to her side. She jumped on and pedaled off angrily. "If I'm a...robot, I'm stronger than that Hollywood bitch. I've killed other robots eight times the size of her," she thought to herself. At the same time, she knew that no matter what she was done. In the end, she was still the clone, not the original.

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Phillip and Joanne desperately searched the stadium for Francine before he was met in the parking lot by a black limo.

"C'mon, Jo!"

"We're not gonna find Frannie in a limo, Phil-"

"Yes, we are," he said.

He furiously chased after it, throwing rocks at the back bumper. Joanne tried to keep up her scarlet vest bobbing. The limo abruptly stopped and he slowly approached the back window. It silently rolled down to reveal the Real Francine's unamused face.

"What do you want?" she said glaring at them.

"We want you to leave Francine alone," Phillip said quietly.

"Are you kiddin' me, old man? I didn't live in a god damn dumpster in New York City for three months tryin' to get a spot on Broadway to have my name defaced by some bitch who looks like me fighting robots in Canada. I have to shut her down, old man," she replied.

"Dammit, Francine, can't you have some compassion? I can fix her appearance - I'll do anything just so long she can live," Phillip said through clenched teeth and tears.

"Heh heh, old man's got a crush. Listen, Phil, she's just another regrets. And I need to let go of those. In fact, I'd kill my parents too, but that'd start an even bigger storm then this android bitch would," she said rolling her eyes again.

Joanne made a grab at the Real Francine's crimson hair and pulled a big chunk out before Phillip pulled her off.

"You leave my friend alone, you hag!" Joanne shrieked.

"Fuck off, you English bitch. I am going to kill little Frandroid no matter what you bitchs say. Now, good day."

Phillip grabbed the window as it began to roll up. "Well, god, woman, can't you shut her down more politely? Let me do it while she's asleep-"

"I want to make certain that she doesn't come back. I want to make certain that that part of my life - The Utility; the being homeless; the arson - is erased. I want to watch her explode. Besides, Philly dear, you know just as well as anyone without a brain that she is just a cybernetic being and that she does not have a mind or a heart - she has A.I. and that is it. I apologize for the trouble, old man, but I just can't do it," she said with a stern gaze. She turned forward, commanded her driver to go, and rolled up the window.

As the limo sped off, Phillip yelled forward "You're cold! You're a god damn bitch!"

"I know where she might be," Joanne said beginning to cry.

"Well, where, goddammit?" Phillip said.

Joanne turned and began to run. She caught a bus across the border and to a small town in Northern Washington. She slowly approached Francine on a swinging quietly on a swingset in a park at the end of Frank Drive. Everything glowed an eerie orange from the setting sun. Francine was no exception. Joanne almost considered turning back, thinking that Francine was worse off than she was. But the orange light of the setting sun was only amplifying and intensifying Francine's frustration. Joanne approached her slowly, nervously digging both hands into her back pockets.

"Frannie Bean..." Joanne said sadly as she approached the rusty noise of the swing set.

"What am I going to do?" Francine said staring up at the evening sky. Joanne sat down on the swing next to her and took Francine's cold hand.

"You don't hafta fight, Frannie, we can 'ide," she said, tears bubbling into her eyes.

"Jo, is this all a lie? Does it really matter?"

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"No, I think I know watcha mean. And I think that yes, it does. It does madder, Frannie. That feeling. That feeling of the wind on your skin. That feeling of the heat of the sun. That feeling of sadness. It means you're alive," Joanne said quietly, "And I'm not gonna let my best friend lose that life.

"There's no use risking your life for me, Jo. I'm already dead anyway," Francine said. She stood up silently, picked up her bicycle, and left. Joanne sat in the swing for another few minutes listening to the far off sounds of the birds trying to fly from the weather and to a more a suitable home. As the orange that had intensified Francine's angst and anger slowly disappeared from the sky, Joanne was left in the dark. She sat swinging for awhile watching headlights turn down suburban streets to be welcomed home and she began to softly cry. She tried to brush away the tears, but Francine was worth a reputation. As the dark settled on Joanne like a thick coat of dust and the headlight parade slowly came to a halt, she stood up and slowly left the park with her hands in her cargo pants as the crickets began to cry their tiny cries.

After a night of anticipation and anxiety, Francine arrived at the stadium quietly the next day. She was wearing the same sweaty light green tank top she'd worn the day prior. She wore black Capri pants, but had since angrily discarded her blue headband which was given to her by Phillip. She strode gracefully into the stadium like any day. Today meant everything though. She strode past the entry window, as usual, right into the locker rooms. She splashed cold water onto her brown face and sat on the bench. Memories flew across her bloodshot eyes as she breathed heavily. She let the memories of her family; of the Utility; of Natalie; of Joanne; of Phillip fuel her need for this life.

Phillip walked into the locker room staring at his feet. He quietly said, "Listen, Frannnie, I-"

"Uncle, why didn't you just tell me?"

Phillip sighed, looked away from her, and slowly walked over to her. He quietly sat down next to her and replied, "Because, it didn't matter. You were what I made for the government. Yes. That much is true. However, when you woke up, I didn't send you away for tests as some sort of prototype. Frannie, I - I liked you. I let you live, because you had a life. I created you. I created that - that life. And I couldn't just let you lose it. Sure, I sent the blueprints to the government and sure, they created other androids, but I wanted you to live. You see, you weren't a machine to me. You were as human as she was; as I am."

"But I am just a machine, aren't I? Just wires and metal. I don't have a life-"

"That's where you're wrong, Frannie. You do have a life. Anyone that has the gift and privilege of not being dead has a life. You experience taste; you have a job; you have a mind. And if she wants to shut you down then she will be taking away what? Not your data or your - your energy. She will be taking your life," Phillip said gently. Francine sat quietly for a moment staring at her tennis shoes.

"Uncle, when you went to the Utility, did you think that it was a paradise away from your worries?"

"What?" Phillip said caught off guard, "Frannie, when I went to the Runaway Academy...I found nothing. All of the classes and all of the pretentious people like Axel Kota and Lindsey Beckstein. A better life than I had at home? Not for me. Now that was a life. A life that seemed careless and beautiful. Look, I worked closely with Nienon on some things and to be honest, she wasn't as brilliant as everyone said. She made me do tests that would result in honestly nothing. I really did prefer our time here," Phillip admitted bluntly.

"Then she was - I was wrong. Uncle, don't go out there. Please, I don't want you to see me...I don't want you to see me...," Francine said with tears in her eyes. As her voice trailed off, she stood up slowly without another glance at Phillip, left the locker room quietly, and sauntered with her fists clenched to the entrance of the stadium. Even though it had been what she had been waiting for, she was surprised to see the Real Francine standing across from her in the opponent's square. But Francine wasn't trembling anymore.

"Let's start this!" Francine yelled at the Real Francine. The loud countdown startled the Real Francine, but she covered it up with a short laugh.

"FIGHT!" the automated announcer screamed through the stadium.

Francine took one step and was met by the startling sound of several metallic clanks around her. The emergency gun doors were opening. The guns were installed in case of an emergency in which a robot or competitor became out of control and dangerous. Francine looked around and realized the stands were empty and that her entrance door had been shut off. She was alone. The Real Francine sighed. "Sorry, honey."

The guns' bullets flew around the stadium. The Real Francine had backed out of the arena quickly. Francine started to dodge the bullets successfully, but was soon thrown off by a stray one. She fell back with a scream. Hundreds more straddled through her body as she laid on the ground. She began to loudly cry. The bullets were successful. She lay on the ground, almost completely dead.

The highly intelligent computers that controlled herself were shutting down throughout her body. The Real Francine walked out to the corpse of the android after the carnage and leaned over her. Francine smiled up at the blue sky. She saw Phillip and Joanne's smiles floating around her.

"Goodbye, paradise."

The Real Francine shuddered. The thought that the android knew those words startled her. She was actually feeling remorse. She leaned down and closed Android Francine's robotic eyes. In the end, there was only one Francine left. She cockily strode off of the field, uncoothfully wiping her hands, and calling out orders to her chauffer and body guards.

As she entered the stadium hallway, Francine strode right into Joanne Fitzgerald. Joanne's awkward but cute shifting and moving had been replaced by violent shaking.

Days later, her warm limo sped down the dirt roads that Android Francine had sped down for years on her bicycle. Francine reluctantly stepped out of the limo when she reached a deserted downtown of a small city. It reminded her of Olive Avenue. Perhaps this city had been shut down by crime around then too. Francine walked up to the front door of Phillip Applegate's house. She sighed and finally knocked on the door. Phillip opened the door with a smile.

He frowned when he saw her long crimson hair. Francine sheepishly smiled. "Hello, Doctor Applegate."

"Hello, Mrs. Pullman." Francine walked into the house and stared at her feet. Joanne yelled from the other room, "Who is it, Phil?" She peeked into the living room and saw Francine. Joanne cartwheeled into the living room and lunged at Francine. Phillip held her back. "Joanne, please, just fix dinner. I'll be in there a moment."

"How'd you know I got married?" Francine asked with a half smile ignoring Joanne's reluctant leave.

"I saw it on the news a few weeks ago. You've become quite a celebrity," he said quietly.

"Oh, well, Ben is a nice guy. He practically owns a state too.."

"Why are you here? She's gone. There's no worries now. You killed her," Phillip said a little resentfully.

"My agent recommended I come and destroy any photographs or signatures the android left," Francine said still avoiding eye contact. She was trying to imagine a girl looking exactly like her going through this door everyday and laughing with this man until bed time. She tried to concieve such a doldrum life with no worries or anything interesting.

"Oh, so killing her wasn't enough? Now, you want me to give up all of my solid memories of Frannie?" Phillip said furiously.

"It's recommended-"

"Get out of my house!"

"Dr. Applegate, please! I know that android meant a lot to you, but it's over! And I have a right!"

"I knew a girl - not just some android - who went the right way after burning her parents' house down! She made up for what she did!"

"Hey, listen! I don't give a shit! I hated my family! Forgive me if some stupid android had the robotic nerves to go through-"

"Your just as much a robot as she is! She had all of the memories you had, but she actually made up for her wrongs in life! You just want to destroy yours. You're just a cowardly little princess. What'd you do after you left the clinic?! I bet you spent all of your money on drugs or alcohol-"

"I spent it on headshots. I worked my ass off to get a part on Broadway! And now, I'm in a movie and I actually have a life! I didn't die at the damn utility! I wasn't about to just give up on living! I wasn't about to turn myself in for arson to the police, and rot in some jail cell! You never even knew the real Francine Rowl, okay?! So, don't cry to me about your fallen android friend!" Francine said angrily.

"I knew the /real/ Francine Rowl! She lived for honor and everyday she remembered what she gave up when those 400 people went missing at CUTL. I bet /you've/ done nothing but work after you got that audition," Phillip said harshly.

Francine was quiet. Soft rain began to tap the window as they stood quiet in the living room. Her voice wavered, "Please, I need any photos or signatures-"

"We only have one picture. But you can have it. You need it," Phillip spat. He left the room and came back quickly. A dusty framed picture was trembling in his hand when he returned. He reluctantly handed the picture to her. It was Francine playing a video game in the living room they were standing in. Francine tried not to cry as she stared at - at herself grinning and relaxing.

"Now, get out!"

Francine slowly shook her head and began to cry as Joanne re-entered the room. "Listen, Phillip, I'm sorry-"

"Just get out, you fucking bitch!" Joanne screamed.

"I'm really sorry."

She turned around and left.

As her limo sped down highways in the rain to the Seattle airport, she couldn't help but contemplate the whole situation. She bit her lip as she stared out the window at the flying scenery. Had she been wrong? No, it was just a stupid robot. Yeah, but maybe just a little wrong? No, she had a career now. She had a life. Did she really have a life? Yes! Yes, she had "Angels Have Everything to Prove" and next year, she would star in the horror movie "Fissure." She would be a household name by December of the next year. Were they really worth it? Yeah, most of the dialogue is good and besides, it's the kind of movies people like. Was it really a life? Yes, for the love of god...there's...there's Ben. He loved her. Did she love him? Of course...yeah, she did. Her inner monologue began to give her a headache.

As she boarded her plane back to L.A., she began to feel very much like the moral learning character in a fable. She could not sleep and stared out the window wondering about Phillip Applegate, Joanne Fitzgerald, and her android clone. She kept going back to the photograph of...of herself holding that N64 controller and grinning. Francine groaned and hit her head against the glass. She suddenly felt terrible. All of the fisades about her lifestyle crumbled like a dilapidated building. When she stepped off of the plane hurriedly, she did not return home to Ben.

She kept the picture near her everywhere. At the premiere of "Angels Have Everything to Prove" the picture sat in her lap. By now, she had probably destroyed her whole career as a movie star. But she had to be sure something went as planned on "Angels Have Everything To Prove."

"In other news, rising star - or should, I say ex-rising star - Francine Pullman has dropped two of her upcoming movie roles in the horror film "Fissure" and the comedy "Ladybug." With the contracts on both films not finalized, she has evaded any lawsuits by MGM and Disney. She has accepted three contracts though to some independent films with a very low salary - one rumoured to be a porn movie. Another baffling thing is that Francine has turned down all interview offers made to her and has not shown up to any previously established interviews as well - even Oprah, Francine's once proclaimed hero, has issued an invite to her talk show and has been coldly turned down. Francine has also made headlines recently by declaring her divorce from famous rock star Lenny Pullman's son Benjamin Pullman. All of this has come very abrupt and with only one statement from Francine recorded..."

"It isn't who I am. Now, get that god BLEEP camera outta my face, buck-o."

"Well, Francine Rowl-Pullman, who might you be? I think the fans deserve an explanation. This is Larry Blanche from Celebrity News Tonight, signing off."

As the credits rolled during the premiere of "Angels Have Everything to Prove," the crowd trickled out of the room. She sat, glued to her seat, waiting for the last credits to roll. At the very end of the film acknowledgements, Francine grinned. As the lights in the theater came up, Phillip Applegate's name slid up the screen as she applauded.

***********************************************************

"You're fucking serious, aren't you?" Francine grinned.

"What? What's wrong with saying that Geoge is my favorite character on Seinfeld?" Evan stammered.

"You serious? George is fuckin' - fuckin'-"

Francine began to laugh and said, "Sorry, sorry. 'Nother take."

The cameraman sighed said, "Alright, whatever," and readied his camera for another take. Francine wandered over to a mirror and caught a glimpse of herself. Her hair long, straight, and strawberry blonded emanated a scent of vanilla to the crew which had really become a small Francine Fanclub. Francine, still a little sassy, was not interested in sweaty college drop outs trying to "make it in the 'biz," but stayed humble most of the time anyway.

She bit her lip and tasted the strawberry lipgloss she'd put on gently over her lips and gently brushed an eyelash off of her forehead.

It had been nearly a year since she'd ruthlessly (but what can do?) destroyed her android clone and she had attoned for her sins. She had began e-mailing Phillip her daily blog which included comments by the thousands; many apologies to "That Nice Old Man;" a journal of her Indie movie lifestyle. She stretched her arms and popped her neck and turned to Evan.

Evan was her co-star in "White Text," the independent movie concieved by Evan himself. Genius.

"You don't give much direction, Evan," Francine said looking back to the familiarity of her reflection.

"Do you want some motivation, Fran?" Evan said grinning at her in disbelief, "I mean you got this down."

His green eyes sparkled dangerously in her direction. "I know, but you know, how would I ever know if I'm doing it right?"

"You are, babe, you are," Evan smiled, "Listen, you know Alex? That guy with one eye from Mexico?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm gonna go toke up with him later. You uh wanna come along or somethin'?"

Francine stared back her reflection. Something so honorable about living a life of arrogant modesty. She grinned, but before she could reply her mobile phone sing out the newest pop hit.

"Hold on, E," she said, flipping open her purple phone and putting the reciever to her mouth. "Francine Rowl, may I help you?"

"Return to The Runaway Academy."

Francine gasped. The voice was distant and sounded like it was dehydrated and slowly dying.

"Wh - who the hell is this?!"

Evan looked at her startled. He cocked his head. She looked up at him.

"Chueviltry."

Francine flipped the phone shut and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Maybe, it wasn't such an ordinary life after all.

"Who was that, Fran? A deranged fan or somethin'?"

She looked at Evan and gulped. "I - I need a break. I have to go home for a few days."

But Francine wasn't going to run scared this time. She was going to fight for her life. She stared up at the sky. It was grey and drury. It was that sort of unsettling type of autumn day that the depressed hoped for to symbolize their bad mood. Francine grinned and the sun shown through a tiny hole in the cloud.

"There's something I have to take care of."