"Doctor!" Leela shouted, but Dr. Zoidberg was soon lost in the crowd of thousands of hungry New New Yorkers, bustling here and there looking for the next best thing since sliced bread.
After an hour of fruitless searching, Amy noticed Fry sitting down in a foodcourt set up on Broadway. All around the sidewalk were stalls selling hotdogs, pasta, pizza and roast beef. Making sure that Fry wasn't about to wander off, Amy rushed back to the middle of Times Square and grabbed Leela by the arm.
"I found him!!" Amy hissed in Leela's ear as she dragged her friend through the crowd. Leela staggered around so that she could run alongside Amy instead of being dragged along behind her and together, they rushed through the crowd.
"There he is!" said Amy. She pointed to a table in the middle of the foodcourt. Fry was sitting in a chair, trays, bowls and plates stacked on the table in front of him, almost hiding his face.
"There you are!" said Leela, walking towards the table, "Amy and I were worried sick about...Oh my God!"
Fry belched and wiped his mouth with a sleeve of his read jacket again. "Huh?" he looked up, "Oh hi Leela! You gotta try this shrimp ravioli! It's delicious!"
"I can tell," said Leela. She looked down. Fry's stomach was inflated to the size of a small beachball and his belt and fly were undone to give his bloated foodbag room to breathe.
"You look disgusting," said leela, "Now come on! We still have all the Asian cuisine to try out."
"Yeah sure," said Fry, "Right when I'm done here."
"When will that be?" Leela asked, her hands on her hips.
"When I'm full."
Leela let out another groan and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Fine!"
"Great!" said Fry, "Then..."
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