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REALLY GOOD NOODLES

Short Story
Created 09-Apr-2004 and completed 18-Apr-2004 by Jayman
Based on concepts by Larry & Andy Wachowski


Note - This story also appears at The Hardline: Revolutions.

Author's Notes

Author - Jayman
Summary - Some of Neo's defining memories over the last 20 years,
    but never really happened.
Rating - R
Categories - Drama
Introductory Notes - That's right, I finally wrote a Neo fic! More notes after the story.

• In "The Matrix," during his interrogation scene, Neo's file reads as follows:
    Last Update: July 22, 1998
    Date of Birth: March 11, 1962
    Place of Birth: Lower Downtown, Capital City
    Mother's Maiden Name: Michelle McGahey (Michelle was an art director for the film)
    Father's Name: John Anderson
    Education: "Central West Junior High" and "Owen Patterson High"
    (Owen was the production designer for the film)

• Middle Name ~ Since "Thomas" (Greek origin, meaning "a twin") and "Anderson"
    (Greek origin, meaning "son of Andrew, son of man") are both of Greek origin,
    I chose the middle name "Alexander" (Greek origin, meaning "protector of men")
    because it was the best "A" name of Greek origin.


* 1 *


* 20 Years Ago - 1979 - Age 17 *


    "Thomas!" the brown-eyed dark-haired mother yelled, "Thomas! Your breakfast is ready!"

    Scraping the pans with her dull spatula, Michelle Anderson scooped the greasy bacon and sunny-side-up eggs from the pans, and tossed them onto the plastic lime-green plate. Flinging her towel onto the kitchen counter, she yelled even louder. "Thomas!"

    "I heard ya... I'm coming," the teenager groaned down the creaky stairs, dreading another day of books and boredom and bitches and bullies at Owen Patterson High. His long dark hair hanging over half his face, and his black Queen T-shirt hanging off his skinny frame, he still felt the throbbing ache in his gut where one of the fatter seniors hurled his fist before laughing at him and biking away.

    Why me?

    Thomas frisbeed his spiral notebooks onto the tan-and-cream tablecloth, slouched into his chair, and hissed, "And my name is Tommy."

    "Tommy?" his mom mocked, setting his plate before him. "As long as you live under this roof, I'm gonna call you whatever I want. You should be glad I don't use your full name! Do you want that?"

    "No," Tommy muttered under his breath. I think I'd prefer another hole in my head.

    "What did you say? Speak up, Thomas Alexander!"

    He cringed at his first and middle names. "I said, 'No.'"

    "That's right," his mom nodded wearily, "The world doesn't revolve around you, you know!"

    Tommy poked a metal fork into the pristine egg yolk, and witnessed the yellow fluid seep out of the punctured center. He murmured, "Thanks, Michelle."

    "Thomas Alexander Anderson! What did you say?"

    He grimaced in utter disgust. "I said, 'Thanks, Mom.' "

    Yeah, thanks for nothing.


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