WALL•E (and Pixar) fans, get ready for Star Vacation, my first ever WALL•E fanfic!
This story is supposed to be a parody of the film, with all the characters being human rather than robot (though the Captain and passengers are already human), and I also came up with most of the dialogue myself (although I did use some Star Wars and other sci-fi quotes in there).
Here’s the cast:
Wallace Cooper: WALL•E
Evelyn McCrea: EVE
Adrian Mo: M-O
Auto-pirate/Darth Steering Wheel: AUTO
Grand Moff Gopher: GO-4
Bissell Dustbuster: VAQ-M
Partlet Cosmetic: PR-T
Vince Lichtenstein: VN-GO
Shiatsu Masashi: HAN-S
Dee Fibrillator: D-FIB
Leticia Coleman: L-T
Sombrilla Parasol: BRL-A
Bernard Burns: BURN•E
Typo Organizer: TYP-E
Stewards: Stormtroopers or “Halt Monitors”
Prologue
A long time into the future, in a galaxy called the Milky Way…
(Star Wars Theme plays)
In the 22nd century, the earth was covered with toxins and trash. The CEO of a mega conglomerate corporation called ShoppyMart called for a 5-year space cruise while the army of garbage collectors, was left to clean up the Shoppy mess.
Unfortunately, Project: Cleanup failed, and the ShoppyMart guy declared a state of emergency; the world was too polluted for humanity to ever return. Thus, the people remained on an eternal vacation onboard the executive starliner, the Postulate.
It is now the 29th century, and all the trash collectors are gone; save for one. Over the last thirteen years, he has been cubing trash every single day of his life. Little does he know of the adventure that lies ahead of him…
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Chapter One: Welcome to Wallace’s World
In the 29th century, the earth is a dump. That’s all that could be said about this planet that was once called “home”; it is but a junkyard, with miles, maybe fathoms of rubbish as far as the eye can see. A poison sky blankets the world; smoggy, hazy, and unhealthy. There are absolutely no people; just ruins of buildings and towers of rubbish. This deserted landfill seems hopeless, not to mention lifeless.
However, all hope is not lost, when we suddenly realize that a person—actually a garbage collector, is passing by the streets of Times Square, scooping up trash, bagging it, and piling it with other garbage bags. He is a junk slave, much like Anakin Skywalker in his days before he became a Jedi. He (the rubbish collector) is dirty, tired, smelly, and covered in grime, but he is perseverant; he still bags the garbage, and piles it up. He listens to music from old movies everyday as he performs his lowly directive. His name is Wallace Cooper.
“Wow,” Wallace told himself as he picked up a trash can lid, “I might take this home with me.”
A small cockroach jumped out of the trash pile as Wallace turned off his Walkman™. The insect then scurried up Wallace’s sleeve.
“Whoa there,” Wallace laughed, “that feels funny.”
Wallace has always been a loner—he’s never seen people, or other people that aren’t garbage collectors like he is. The only one he can relate to is his pet roach Fido, who has been able to survive this trash disaster longer that anything else. Now it is time to go home for Wallace and Fido; the sun is setting through the cloudy atmosphere.
“Come on Fido,” Wallace told the roach, “We better get going.”
So now, Wallace begins his long trip home, treading down a trashy skyscraper, passing through the streets, also covered in rubbish. He walks his way home, running over a newspaper centuries old, stating that the Emperor of ShoppyMart declared a State of Emergency. He also saw a ShoppyMart Mega-Ultracenter, a ShoppyMart gas station, a ShoppyMart bank, ShoppyMart holo-advertisements, and even a ShoppyMart transit terminal.
Let me tell you a little about ShoppyMart. Back in the mid-21st century, ShoppyMart became a super-powerful, overly controlling, almost humanity-dominating empire, just like the one in Star Wars―however, unlike that empire; they were friendlier, like the Republic, and they just encouraged people to shop a whole lot. This retail organization, however, is responsible for turning the world into the dump that it is right now. So now you ask, “What about all the other people?” The solution: they’re all on holiday, travelling on luxury cruise-liners sponsored by ShoppyMart Travel; the crown jewel of which is called the Postulate, and there’s a good reason why it is called that. A postulate, by and large, is literally something that is cliché, palpable, over-generalized, taken for granted, and doesn’t require proof because it’s so self-evident. And the people on that cruiser have obviously taken for granted the over-generalized truism “You can never have too much vacation”, on their cliché holiday; and their axiomatic attitudes and lifestyles are pretty self-evident on this vacation. Basically, the fact that they’re relaxing on their perpetual getaway doesn’t require any proof—it’s already been stated without even giving you clues about it; it goes without saying.
And speaking of all this nonsense, Wallace passed a few billboards advertising this holiday paradise, where people are shown being happy and enjoying themselves, but how do we know that it is still that way on the Postulate today, or if it still exists?
Now, enough about the people on holiday, and back to Wallace― so now he gets home, and settles down to put away his shoes, change into his pajamas (which had little dumpster-shaped robots with googly-eyes printed all over) and store stuff that he has collected while bagging up rubbish. He then took out a DVD of the Disney Channel Original Movie Camp Rock, which he loved to watch every day after coming home from work. The part where they were singing “Hasta La Vista” played on screen, and he tried to imitate the hip-hop dancing with a trampoline he found in a pile of trash a few weeks ago. He sang to the upbeat tune, and then went to put the trampoline away, so he could watch Hello, Dolly! , until another scene from Camp Rock caught his attention: the scene where Mitchie and Shane were singing “This Is Me”. Wallace pressed the “record” button on his Walkman to record the song. This time, there was no dancing and trampoline bouncing; the singers were gazing into each other’s eyes, as if some sort of emotion connected them, and when they finished the song, they held each other’s hands.
Wallace was perplexed by this sight; he has never experienced, nor seen what love is like. Interlocking his own hands, he suddenly realized he felt lonely.
“Man,” Wallace told himself, “I wish I had someone to hold hands with and share this rubbish planet with me,” and with deep sadness he said, “I guess I’ll take a walk outside.”
Wallace strolled outside his truck home as he put on his robe and slippers, and looking up at the starry night sky. He then pressed the play button on his Walkman™, listening to “This Is Me”. Tears fell down his eyes as he dwelt on the thought of his loneliness.
Wallace began to sing, “You’re the voice I hear inside my head, the reason that I’m singing; I need to find you, I gotta find you…”
All of a sudden, an alarm went off, telling Wallace that a sandstorm was approaching. He immediately went inside with Fido, unwrapped a tea-cake for his insect, and then went to bed on a small, lumpy mattress with a fleece blanket. He would rest once more as tomorrow the same old routine would repeat with increased loneliness in his heart.
EDIT: I just realized and error in the prologue that said that Wallace was alive for 700 years, and that’s totally incorrect! I just changed it to read “the last thirteen years”, because he’s fourteen when the story begins.
