Work Text:
The streets of Berlin glowed with neon lights while flying trains rushed between giant towers above the city. Fry stared around with wide eyes as crowds moved through the futuristic station.
“Berlin is amazing,” Fry said. “It didn’t look like this in my time.”
Bender smirked. “Yeah. People still rush everywhere, trains still run late, and tourists still spend money on useless junk.”
A robotic station voice echoed above them:
“Next transport to Schönewald-Unter-Straße is delayed by only forty-seven minutes.”
Fry laughed nervously. “See? Some things never change.”
---
Later that afternoon, they arrived at a historical museum in an old part of the city. In the center of the courtyard stood a massive golden carriage surrounded by ropes and warning signs.
Fry slowly stepped closer. “Whoa…”
Bender crossed his arms. “You’re thinking about climbing on it, aren’t you?”
“No!” Fry answered immediately.
He paused.
“…Maybe a little.”
Next to the carriage was a large metal sign:
DO NOT TOUCH THE HISTORICAL EXHIBITS.
Bender pointed at it. “That sounds less like a rule and more like a challenge.”
“I probably shouldn’t…” Fry muttered.
“Relax,” Bender replied. “History already happened. You can’t ruin it now.”
Fry blinked.
“…That actually makes terrible sense.”
“Thank you.”
---
One minute later, Fry sat nervously inside the ancient carriage while the wooden floor creaked beneath him.
“Oh man,” Fry whispered. “I already regret this.”
Bender grinned. “Look at you. Like a depressed prince.”
The carriage suddenly groaned loudly.
CREEEEAK.
Fry grabbed the wall in panic. “I think this thing is older than my entire family tree…”
“Relax,” Bender said, pulling out a bottle of Mezzo Mix. “Have a drink.”
“Thanks…”
At that exact moment Fry slipped while stepping out of the carriage.
SPLASH!
Orange soda exploded across the side of the historical exhibit.
Everything went silent.
Fry stared in horror at the dripping liquid.
“…Bender.”
“Yeah?”
“If this collapses, I’m legally becoming a ghost.”
Bender looked at the mess for two seconds.
“…You just attacked literature.”
---
Later that evening, the museum was nearly empty.
Fry knelt beside the carriage with a cloth in his hand, desperately trying to clean the sticky stain.
“There has to be something I can wipe this with…”
“Rules are made to be ignored,” Bender said while secretly taking pictures beside a giant sign reading:
NO PHOTOS IN THE MUSEUM.
“I really should not take a photo,” Fry admitted.
Bender’s camera flashed.
“And yet…”
CLICK!
---
Much later that night, Fry sat alone near the Brothers Grimm monument in the quiet city square. The cold wind moved through the empty streets while he leaned against the stone base and slowly fell asleep.
Suddenly a voice spoke behind him.
“Guten Abend, Philip J. Fry.”
Fry jumped awake.
Two glowing figures stood before him — the spirits of the Brothers Grimm.
Fry nearly screamed. “OH WOW OKAY THAT’S REAL.”
One of the ghosts calmly held an old book in his hands.
“You damaged an object connected to our stories,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to spill soda on the carriage,” Fry answered quickly. “I’m just… kind of stupid sometimes.”
The second ghost smiled slightly.
“We understand. Mistakes happen.”
Fry blinked. “Wait… you’re not angry?”
“History survives because people continue to care about it,” the first brother replied. “Even imperfect people.”
The second brother handed Fry an old book.
“Take this. Our stories belong to those who learn from the past.”
Fry carefully accepted the heavy copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales.
For once, he didn’t know what to say.
Behind him, Bender suddenly appeared holding his camera.
“Great,” Bender said. “Now the ghosts are giving out free stuff.”