NOTE TO READERS: This is not petty revenge or random story-bashing. Willey has been BEGGING me via e-mail to MSTie his work, even going so far as to hint that I owe him for past favors. (Read: all those Subreality Cafe stories, if you can call that a favor... (G) ) Wellllll.......far be it from ME to say no to such a persistant fan...heh heh heh...
MSTies will get the eighth-season in-jokes. All you other folks, just sit back and ignore the bits you don't get -- I think there's enough in here for everybody to enjoy SOMETHING. :)
The full disclaimer is included at the end.
.-=K=-.
(Opening shot: Cambot pans across the bridge of the Satellite of Love. It is, as often is at the beginning of a sketch, deserted. However, the humming silence stretches out until it becomes apparant that something is very wrong. There's a tinkling peal of childish laughter and the movie sign light begins flashing all by itself...)
(Cut away to five Psychic Network commercials in a row)
(When the show returns, it goes straight to the doors sequence. When the camera emerges in the theater, Mike and the bots are, strangely, already in their seats.)
MICHAEL J. NELSON: (trailing in) ...so YOU were in your quarters, and YOU were in the cargo bay, and *I* was in the bathroom. Do I have this straight?
CROW T. ROBOT: Yep, except for the part about all three of us suddenly appearing here in the theater.
MIKE: I thought that part was obvious.
(The giggling starts up again. In a blink of really bad F/X, three low-to-the-ground touseled heads appear on the other side of the theater.)
CROW: AHH! Evil Space Children!
(For anyone who doesn't watch the show...errrr...just take this concept on faith. ;)
MIKE: Heeeeey, isn't it past you guyses' bedtime?
Evil Space Child (EST) Patrick: Mom and Dad are out nebula-surfing.
EST MIKE: Yeah, and we turned our babysitter into a bowl of petunias.
TOM SERVO: (carefully) Uh, yes, heh heh. That's...very clever of you. Sooooo why are you HERE?
EST Bridget: We're BORED! And you're funny. So we brought a present for you.
MIKE: Oh no...
EST Bridget: (gleefully) It's a STORY! And it's way loads better than anything Granny Pearl has for you.
EST Patrick: Sure, we peeked.
EST Bridget: Promise you'll read it? Pleeeeeease?
CROW: Um. Uh. Well. (swallows hard) Did YOU write it?
EST MIKE: Oh, no, of course not! We got it off of something called a newsgroup...ummm...
EST Patrick: Alt-dot-comics-dot-fan-something.
EST MIKE: ...Yeah, that was it. We promise to put it back, honest. No one seems to have missed it yet.
MIKE: (makes a small strangled noise) Not another piece of X-Men schlock...I, uh, think I'm developing an allergy to Cajun anything...I can bring a note from my doctor, really...
EST Bridget: Nonono! It's something totally different. You'll love it, I just know you will! Have fun!
(The trio vanish as cheesily as they appeared. The story begins scrolling across the screen.)
CROW: Do we HAVE to sit here and take this abuse, Mike?
MIKE: Well, it's better than giving those three pint-sized Damiens an opportunity to do worse...
TOM: We can be repaired.
MIKE: Not if you're turned into stuffed animals and set on fire.
CROW: Would they DO something like that?!?!?
MIKE: I don't know, but if I'd had cosmic powers as a kid, that's what *I* would have done.
TOM: We may as well settle in for the ride, Crow. Oh, and make a note: Don't EVER close your eyes around Nelson again.
> Subject: Legion #17
MIKE: What? There's 16 parts BEFORE this one? How are we supposed to figure out what's going on? Why didn't those little monsters give us part one?
TOM: Why didn't someone stop the author after part one?
> From: "Steven J. Willey" (willeys@erols.com)
Date: Thu, 19 Jun 1997 20:14:43 -0400
Message-ID: (33A9CB73.9D7@erols.com)
CROW: AAAAGH!!!
TOM: Calm down, buddy, it's just a header.
CROW: Sorry, it's a Pavlovian response. Because I know what's coming next HAS to be bad.
> [HTML]
TOM: (pompously) This fanfic has been brought to you by the letters H, T, M, and L, and by the number Arrrrgh!
> Hey ya! This one is my latest (at least latest issue I'm
allowed to release quite yet.
MIKE: (crazy voice) Because the squirrels are watching me, and CancerMan knows where I live...
> Our otherwise, spoilers for unwritten issues will be given to early.)
CROW: (dryly) Lord knows how we're all just wetting ourselves with anticipation.
> "There is nothing more tragic than a man without a dream"
MIKE: Or a writer without a clue.
> - Unknown
The Excutionor's Secret Evolutionary Crisis on Zero
Earths III
CROW: By Alan Smithee!
> Waking up, perchance to dream
Or
Rhapsody in Green
TOM: Tune in next week, Rocky & Bullwinkle fans!
> By Jesse N. Willey
CROW: Steven, Jesse...how many Willeys are writing this, anyway? Isn't ONE bad enough?
> Location: Shatner's ship
MIKE: GAAAAH!!! No! This'll be four times as painful as just having Captain Kirk in a story!
CROW: This is TOO easy. I call no "Star Trek," "TJ Hooker," toupee, or girdle jokes.
TOM: Oh, sure, why don't you just duct-tape my mouth shut while you're at it?
CROW: Don't tempt me.
> "You can't be Shatner. Shatner's dead," Tenzil said.
ALL: WE WISH!
> "Who's to say that I am not," Shatner replied.
MIKE: He would be if James "Bite Me Bill" Doohan had his way.
> "Mr. Nimoy, please escort these childeren to their
quarters. Put them next to the Robinson family."
TOM: Those fiends! They're holding Joel's folks hostage until he apologizes for "The TV Wheel"!
> "Yes, captain,"
CROW: THEN can we hardvac Commander Riker, sir?
> They walked down several hallways all of which
looked almost identical.
TOM: Except that they were completely different. ...Huh?
> It was like being in one of those old Earth cartoons where
the cat chases the mouse.
MIKE: No, wait, back up, not really -- those were actually interesting.
> Finally, they got put in a room with to seperate sleeping
chambers.
CROW: Uhhhh...err...so how can it be one room, then?
TOM: Don't think, just roll with the punches and try to stay sane.
> "Violet, there's something strange going on here,"
Tenzil said.
"Don't be ridiculous.
(Crow opens his mouth)
MIKE: Go ahead with that weak Balki Bartokamus impression you're about to make and I'll pop you in the side of the head, Crow.
(Crow snaps his beak shut and sulks)
> I'm sure their is a logical explaination for why this ship is
here," Violet said as her hair began to turn red.
TOM: Then brown, then red, then murky red-brown, then red again...hey, she's Rogue!
> Tenzil looked down and saw that his normal green and
yellow costume had been replaced by black pants white
bussiness suit and a black trenchcoat.
TOM: (chanting) I am ignoring this...I am ignoring this...I am ignoring this...
CROW: If either of them mentions "the Truth" or Fox's sister, I am OUT of here with bells on.
> "Look at us. Are clothes
(all wince)
CROW: Woo! I'm seeing enough spelling flames in our future to fry a Clydesdale!
> have changed and so has your hair. I'm telling something is
going on here,
MIKE: Pronoun, good; verb, very good; subject? SUBJECT! Subject on the set, please!
> and I'm going to find out what," he said as he headed for
the door.
TOM: Up, up, and away! It's Obvious Lad to the rescue!
CROW: Oh, let's NOT start that again.
> ***************************
Location: Legionaires Headquarters of the pocket
universe
CROW: (lewdly) Is that "Legionaires Headquarters" in your pocket universe or are you just happy to see me?
> Andrew
ALL: AAAH!
> Weinstein
ALL: Whew!
MIKE: I guess they can't ALL be Vincents.
> tried to explain things to his friend. He had gone over the
facts about fifty times.
CROW: (Dox) Birds, bees, babies...hmmm...no, sorry, it STILL doesn't make sense. One more time, from the top.
> Querl Dox, being the most stubburn person Andy had ever met,
TOM: --and the greenest--
> refused to believe them. So he had decided that his friend
need a walk outdoors.
MIKE: (Andrew) You'll feel MUCH better after some fresh, er, air. Now, this is an airlock...
> "Great galaxies! Our headquarters is in the middle of
a forest.
TOM: And it's made of straw, and there's this wolf...
> What the grife happened to Metropolis?" Brainiac 5 asked.
CROW: (Minnewegian) Oh, Brainiac 5, yah, that's a good one. Though not as good as Brainiac 4: The Search For Vril.
MIKE: (same) Oooo, I know, I know! Confidentially, I read in Starlog that they're already filming Brainiac 6: The Revenge...
> "Which one, New Metropolis or Old Metropolis.
TOM: Welcome to Willey's world. Question marks optional.
> They had to move you're over sized frat house to get that
city out of the bottle don't you remember?" Andy asked.
CROW: You think THAT was a stone bitch, try getting the damn thing back INto the bottle...
> "Something is wrong here, and I have a feeling you're
not telling me the whole truth," Querl said stiffly.
TOM: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE...er...um, I've done that before, haven't I?
MIKE: We all have.
CROW: You're getting old, Servo.
> "Querl, have I ever lied to you?" Andy said with a
smile as Halo put her arm around his sholuder.
MIKE: Sholuder, sholuder...isn't that Hebrew for "rabbit's foot" or "hangover" or something?
> "You mean besides the catnip incident," Brainy said.
TOM: Yeah, Brainy, THAT catnip incident. Handy's in an neck brace, Papa's still hung-over, Smurfette's STILL pissed off, and no one's seen Sassette or Jokey for a week...
> "Catnip? What did you do with catnip?" Gabby asked.
TOM: Hey, if I keep going with that "Smurfs" joke to the obvious "Azrael" riff, what would be the first thing to come to mind?
CROW: Jean-Paul Valley, in full armor, on his back, bouncing a ball of yarn into the air with his hands and feet.
TOM: I thought so. Never mind.
> "Umm... nothing," he said nervously.
MIKE: (Brainiac) Let's just say that I couldn't walk straight for a week...
> "I thought you said you'd never bring that up again."
MIKE: (Brainiac) So please don't go there. I'm STILL hacking up purple furballs.
> They walked down the path untill the came to a fork
in the road.
CROW: Insert obvious "spoon" joke here.
> Then they were stopped by a man in a blue spandex with a
blue face mask
CROW: Insert really obvious "SPOOOOOON" joke here.
MIKE: (Arthur) I'm not a rabbit, I'm a moth! A MOTH!
> follow by several people in the costume of Batman's
sidekick, Robin.
TOM: One of them's wearing his tights, one of them's wearing his codpiece, one's only wearing his cape and gloves...and just wait till you see the one who made off with the mask and belt!
> "I am Sir Richard of Grayson.
ALL: (singing) Brave, brave sir Richard!
> Hand over your gold, and you won't be hurt,"
CROW: (Brainiac) Gold, huh? Do fillings count? Andrew's got some. Can I borrow a pair of pliers?
> "Ummm... excuse me. Andy, what is going on here?"
Brainy asked.
MIKE: (Andrew, snidely) Don't ask ME, I'M not the one named "Brainiac."
> "Don't you remember, The Robin's Hoods took over
this area soon after the headquarters was moved. You must
really have a bad memory," Andy replied.
TOM: (Dox) Oh...ummm...yeah. And just WHO are you, again?
> ***********************************
Speaking of Bad memories....
CROW: ...X, X II, 2000-X, JXL, Second X...
TOM: Why do all the really bad ones have an "X" in them?
MIKE: What about Jammers and the Legacy Concert?
TOM: Okay, maybe not ALL of them.
> Legionaires Headquarters: The "Real" World
CROW: Steve's caught red-handed with three greased ferrets and the paperboy. Meanwhile, it's "intervention time" when Jeff flushes Sarah's cat down the loo...for the third time in two days. Next week...on the Real World.
> Laurel Gand, who had know idea who she was,
TOM: Good! That makes four of us!
> sat unattended while everyone talked and voted on what to
about her amnesia.
CROW: Right now the vote was leaning heavily towards smacking her over the head with the mallet again.
> She couldn't remember having amnesia. In fact, she couldn't
remember allot of things.
MIKE: Like how to spell "a lot," the difference between "know" and "now," the fact that the earlier phrase "what to about amnesia" is complete and utter gibberish...
> She decided to look for something that might triggering
some of her memories.
MIKE: ...the difference between past and present tense, the concept of using EVERY word in a sentence...
TOM: Let it go, Nelson. Let it go.
> She grabbed the first Omnicom 'book' that was out in the
waiting room.
CROW: Luckily for us it was the Necro-Omnicom, and thus all of the characters in this story will meet their fate in a steaming splatter of blood within the next three paragraphs. Except Andrew Weinstein, who will be devoured whole in one great big toothy bite. Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease...
> The cover was very catchy, it had
TOM: --"Don't Panic" written on it in large, friendly letters--
> a big red triangle with a yellow s in the middle on the front.
The pad was called 'The Legends of Superman'.
MIKE: Chapter One: Lois & Clark: Real TV Series Or Slushy Romance Under A Thin Veneer Of Spandex?
TOM: Chapter Two: Forget Doomsday: Supe's Real Nemesis, AKA Richard Pryor.
CROW: Chapter Three: Man of Steel, Woman Of Kleenex.
MIKE & TOM: AHEM!
CROW: Uh! Sorry.
> As she turned the pages she found a young blonde woman
who looked excatly like her.
TOM: (Laurel, falsetto) Ah ha! That's it! I'm Miss November 1997!
> She could also do everything she remembered being able to do.
MIKE: Like chewing gum and picking her nose at the same time.
> So she decided to read the name.
CROW: (Laurel, falsetto) Ill-ee-ah-nuh?
TOM: Wrong 'verse.
> "Hmmm... Supergirl. May name is Supergirl.
CROW: (Laurel, falsetto) Oh my! That means that I'm late on the set for this week's round of sleazy porn-fics!
> Yes, I remember now," she said to herself.
TOM: (hoarse and breathy) I remember everything...
MIKE: (exasperated) Enough with the "Operation Mindcrime" jokes, Servo -- only three people in the continental United States are going to get them.
CROW: Yeah, you can stop kissing up to the writer now.
> *****************************************
Location: Starship heading to the Takron-Galtos
prison planet. Present cargo: Alchemnar
MIKE: (goofy announcer voice) And hoochy-coochy girl Charro!
TOM & CROW: What--?!
MIKE: Sorry, Love Boat flashback. I'm okay now. Really.
> "I am the most powerful person, in the galaxy," he
said with a high pitched Psychotic laugh
CROW: Run for your lives! Bill Gates is loose!
> as he turned in inertion shackles into a oxygen helmet. Then
he proceeded to rip out the padding of his rubber room and
transmute it into a spacesuit capable of allowing indefinate
surival in a vaccum.
TOM: And then, just because he felt like it, he made a few balloon animals, a rubber duckie, and Tom Petty.
> The he filled his tank up with months supply of air, that used
to be the walls.
MIKE: Wow, that's a great idea! Why didn't I ever think of doing that? Reading fanfics IS educational.
> "Captain," the crewman behind the helm said. "We've
got a hull breach in the 'cargo holds'."
MIKE: (captain) You know, where we keep the, ahem, (making little "quotation marks" with his fingers) 'cargo.' Nudge nudge wink wink.
CROW: (groggy falsetto, a la Star Trip) I'm so high...
> "God help us all," he said as he began to implode.
CROW: Nooo, I think he'd say something a little more like "God he--ARRRRRGGGGHHHHHggghhlllllllxxxx--!!!!!!"
> "You didn't think I'd break out without saying good
bye did you?" Alchemnar replied.
MIKE: Uhhhh...so is the author going to bother explaining who this guy is?
TOM: I think we're supposed to already know.
MIKE: Yeah right. Do I LOOK like a DC fanboy?
CROW: There's such a thing as a DC fanboy--?
> As he flew camly through space and headed toward
an asteroid. It called him to an excat point
CROW: Excat? Ex-cat? X-Cat?
> on the surface. An there was a ring, a very powerful ring.
TOM: (sepulchral) And as he placed the One Ring upon his finger, he felt the fiery gaze of Sauron pierce the smoky veils of Mordor, striking a numbing chill into his very bones and driving him to his knees beneath its searing weight...
MIKE: Heeey, not a bad Tolkien impression there, Servo.
TOM: (modestly) Thank you, thank you. Want to hear me recite the Pledge of Allegiance in High Elven?
MIKE & CROW: NO.
> "In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall
escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might,
beware my power,
ALL: (campy) ...fight fight fight! GoooooOOOOOO Gardner!
> Green Lantern's Light," he said as he broke down into his
high pitch laughter.
CROW: (offhandedly) Eh, Omega used it WAY better.
> He proceeded to Takron-Galtos. She was waiting, the
one who had stolen his heart- or at least he thought she did.
TOM: It could have been his spleen. He never could tell the difference.
> They had never met, not really, or maybe they had. Wasn't
sure. Probobally not, but maybe yes.
MIKE: But maybe, then no, perhaps yes, though if before, because...uhhh...doctor, my brain hurts.
> "Hey, babe, wanna you think your green is so bad?
Try mine," he said as he laughed even more. He didn't stop
untill he could feel the burning in his lungs.
CROW: Yeah, that'll happen when your entire respiratory tract has been inverted by the vacuum of space.
> He actually done it. He had closed the Eyes of the Emerald
Empress. The eyes follow toward him leaving nothing but
Cera behind. He turned his suit into a gas instanouesly
reformed the suit around her.
TOM: Ahem! If anyone out there understands what just happened, speak now or forever hold your peace.
MIKE: (pitifully) Teacher, can I go now? Pleeeeeeeease...?
> "Have a nice day!" He said with more laughter. He
was ready now. Ready to take on the world.
CROW: (campy) Ready to wear teal chiffon AND combat boots, and damn the fashion vultures!
> ***************************
Washington DC: the year 2010
MIKE: (voice of doom) The year of the Robot Holocaust.
> "I, Monarch now declare this day, Worldwide Turn
Someone You Know Over To The Law Day.
CROW: Okay, let's clean house! Who can we get rid of and never miss? How about Alicia Silverstone?
TOM: The Olsen twins!
MIKE: John Travolta!
ALL: JESSE WILLEY!!!
> Please, if you know of anyone, especially anybody named
Matthew Rider, please turn them over to the law now.
MIKE: However, in a pinch we'll accept Richard Ryder or Dan Ketch.
> All of you who fall to turn anyone in, shall be imprisoned,"
he said with a laugh. A bubble appeared behind him.
TOM: Glinda's freelancing again, I see.
CROW: Or freeBASING, at least.
> "Mr. Hall?" the bald man with a strange helmet
on said.
CROW: Ewww! That's not a helmet, that's his head!
> "Yes," he asked "Who speaks to Monarch in such
a manor."
TOM: (bald guy) Sorry, sir, but the Wayne place was booked up.
> "It is I, Lex Luthour,"
MIKE: Lex Luthor's British cousin.
> "What do you want? Didn't I kill you already?"
TOM: (Lex) Oh sure, yeah, but I just felt like being killed again. C'mon, you know you want to!
MIKE: I know *I* want to.
> "Yes, but that was later. Tell me, how would
you like to rule more than just a planet?"
CROW: (Lex, simpering) Oooo! Throw in Crystal Tokyo and I'm YOURS, sweetie! (makes kissy-face noises)
TOM: If you get any campier, Crow, I'm firing that smuggled copy of "Priscilla: Queen Of The Desert" out the nearest airlock.
CROW: (same voice) Oh, get back in your kennel, girlfriend.
> "Tell me more," Monarch, the man once known as
Hank Hall said.
*******************************
MIKE: My God, it's full of...
(CHOMP!)
MIKE: ...OW! That hurt!!! What was that for?!
CROW: Oh, just doing my bit towards protecting the world from cliches. Carry on.
> Querl Dox, the elder one, finally settled down in his lab.
MIKE: ...for his long winter sleep.
TOM: So if he's a grumpy old man, is he Querl-ous?
(Crow and Mike both groan weakly)
MIKE: That was uncalled for...
> He noticed for the first time in months that a message
communique was waiting for him
TOM: (a la AOL) You've Got Mail!
MIKE: (Querl) Well, if I'd been able to get ONLINE at all during the last few months..."adding more service," my green butt...
> and it was coming from somewhere out in Treuian
TOM: That's not a word, that's an exercise in gratuitous vowels.
> sector. He pushed the play button.
MIKE: (Dox) What the--? Oh, so THAT'S where my "Abba Gold" album got to.
> "Hey! Querl it's me Andy. Look, it's Thursday, and
I just found some sort a weird device.
CROW: (Andy) So I thought maybe you could come on over and we could test it on my sister's cockatiel! Whaddya think?
> Thought I'd stop by New Earth and have you check it out.
And please, don't bring up the catnip incident," said the voice
of Andrew Weinstein.
TOM: (Andrew) Because if you keep reminding people about it, I won't get to pull it again! Sheesh, are you thick! Oh, wait. I'M the one who keeps bringing it up...
> "Damn it!" Querl said. "I hate it when those stupid
U.P. Satillites send ME my other Self's mail."
"Weinstein?" he thought to himself. "Andrew
Weinstein?"
MIKE: (Bugs Bunny) Hansel? Hansel. Haaansel...?
> Of course he'd heard the name.
CROW: Well of course -- he's that old pal of ours who now writes for the Simpsons.
TOM: That's JOSH Weinstein.
MIKE: Yeah, duh Crow. He's that hack who turns out the occasional Star Trek novel.
TOM: No, that's HOWARD Weinstein.
MIKE: Andrew, Howard, whatever. I STILL haven't forgiven him for my "Deep Domain"-induced coma.
TOM: (contemptiously) Trekkie.
MIKE: NOW DON'T YOU START!!!
> He's the young genius who anyone who studied quantum
physics was yabbering about.
TOM: Actually, it's because he was the only intern dumb enough to actually lick a bar of plutonium when the other lab assistants dared him.
> He had at least in theory, actually discovered how a system
of space traveling parties
CROW: (leaning forward as if squinting) Space-travelling...panties? Now that's an idea. Either that, or I'm starting to go mad. What do you guys think?
MIKE: Mmmm...no, you've got a ways to go yet.
TOM: Well, you ARE the expert on insanity, Mike. I mean, at least CROW never got dressed up as Kathryn Janeway...
MIKE: (stiffly) I'll have you know that I made a GOOD Janeway.
CROW: Yeah, you were FAR more feminine than Kate Mulgrew.
TOM: Point.
MIKE: HEY--!
> known as 'The Rave' actually operated. It had remained one
of the best kept secrets of all time, next to 'Where did Booster
Gold get that ring?'
CROW: Crackerjack box? Wedding present decoration?
TOM: What'sssss it got in itssss pocketssessss, my preciousss?
MIKE: I was NOT feminine.
CROW & TOM: Oh yes you were.
> which had also had some clues to it come to light over the
past several decades.
CROW: (shocked revelation tone) Good God--! The Mayfairs are all witches!
TOM: (sarcastically) Sweet Jesus, Lestat de Lioncourt is a vampire!
CROW: (annoyed) Oh, do be quiet. Go back to teasing Mike, okay?
> ******************************
CROW: (to Tom, continuing his last line) It's really easy. I mean, look, see? He gets the most darling little girlish dimples whenever he--
MIKE: BLACK CARD!!! END OF SUBJECT!
> Jenni Ognats was tired of just standing out in the
middle of the street.
TOM: Checking her watch, tapping her foot, waiting for SOMEONE to run her over already...
> She was the granddaughter of Barry Allen, the fastest man
who used to be alive.
CROW: Now the fastest corpse on Earth! Wow! Look at him go!
> She was really glad when some near by Science Police
Officers reported a fire a few miles down.
MIKE: (booming cop voice) You there! Yeah, the one with the taped glasses and the ragged copy of "I, Robot" stuffed under your arm! We just got a report that you refused to dissect a fetal piglet for your Anatomy final. I'm afraid you'll have to come with us, son. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to a lawyer, you have the right to recite Avogadro's number under your breath and to calculate the molarity of your handcuffs...
> She headed off as fast as she could. As soon as the
'SWOOSH!' came threw the air
CROW: Ya gotta wait for it, you know. You just can't make a good entrance without the sound effect.
> two shreaking lightning bolts appearred and formed human
shapes.
"Bart, did you know that the Flash mueseum thought
of that treadmill as a PRIZED ARTIFICAT?"
MIKE: Oh, for the love of-- Spellchecker on the set please!
> as the blue and white suited form of Max Mercury. "I try to
teach you the importants of family history......"
As particularly stange image
TOM: Ahem! Willey, I don't care if "Freakazoid" IS on! Turn OFF the Cartoon Network and concentrate on your frickin' typing!
CROW: Or at least stop typing with your elbows...
> popped into Bart's mind. The crystal clear image of Max
reading directly out of the encyclopedia. Another image
came to mind, of himself in a baby's crib.
CROW: Wearing diapers, sucking on a bottle -- funny how he'd been all of twelve years old at the time.
> He decided to run off and investigate. After all, Max was
such a bore.
TOM: And thus concludes Impulse's gratuitous appearance in this fanfic. Rest assured that we will never see him again.
ALL: (boredly) Yay.
> *******************************
"So, how do we get out of this one?" Querl Dox
asked his friends as they were surrounded by the army
of Robins.
(All make chirping sounds)
CROW: Yeah, this'd be really dangerous if Our Heroes were earthworms!
> "Ummm... I dunno? Do you think I thought of this?"
Andy asked.
TOM: Where's a macho hero-type like Race Bannon when you really need him?
MIKE: Conveniently unconscious so Johnny and Hadji can save the day.
TOM: Oh. Right. I forgot.
> "Now that you ask, yes I do. In one of my suppossed
'hallucinations' you and I were in the timestream going into
some really blurred area.
MIKE: (Andy) No, the area wasn't blurred -- YOU were blotto at the time, remember?
CROW: (Querl) AAAAH! THE CATNIP! THE CATNIP!!!!!!
> Considering we still haven't found limits one what your
ablities are capable of, it is theoretically possible that you
created a pocket universe," Brainy said.
MIKE: Then again, it COULD just be a stale peanut-butter sandwich. We aren't totally sure about it yet.
> "Possible yes. Likely, no. plus, it has been said that
only the insane believe everyone else is a mad man," Andrew
stated.
TOM: No, after this many posts from kooks who should be walled up in catacombs and writers who should be thrown to the aardvarks, I'd have to say that we, the sane, are the only true judges of insanity.
CROW: But if you were insane yourself, how would you know?
TOM: I...uh...lemme think about that one.
> "Like we said before. Give us your gold, or else?"
MIKE: How cute -- a tentative mugger.
TOM: Hey, it's one of the missing question marks from earlier in the story! Quick! Someone grab it before it gets away again!
> said the man identified as Nightwing.
TOM: By who? By what? Where when how?
CROW: Gotta be the ponytail.
> "We don't have any money," Halo said.
MIKE: (Halo) And these are definitely NOT the droids you're looking for.
> Suddenly Groucho Marx walk out behind a tree. Like
in all the movies, he was smiling.
TOM: Unlike in the movies, he was carrying a chainsaw and giggling.
> "You said the magic words. The duck comes down,
you win a prize!" he said as he wavered his cigar.
CROW: Oh luv-er-ly, another pointless Howard the Duck guest-shot. Shoot me.
MIKE: Don't worry, all you audience-type folks out there, we don't get any of this either.
> *****************************
It had been a few hours since Tenzil had checked in
on Violet, so he decided to head back to his quarters.
CROW: (Tenzil) It's been hours, babe! What do you mean, you still have a headache...?!
> He had looked all over the ship for clues about who Shatner
and his fake outs could really be.
MIKE: Where are Jabberjaw and the Chan Clan when you really need them?
TOM: I think they joined the Witness Protection Program in the late seventies to shake Scooby-Doo's lawyers.
> Everywhere except the cargo bay. Right as he thought this,
he walked into there cabin.
"Right foot blue!" shouted a man in a red jumpsuit.
CROW: Ick. They sell over-the-counter lotions for that, you know...
> "Violet, I'm HOOOOME!" Tenzil yelled.
MIKE: (Lucy) Oo! My husband! Quick, Fred, grab your pants and hide in the linen closet!
> "Hiya, Tenzil, I want you to meet Joel, he lives
next door.
(...stunned silence...)
TOM: Oh my god...no...it can't be...
CROW: Consigned to a bad fanfic...the universe couldn't be so cruel...
MIKE: Take deep breaths and keep telling yourselves, "This isn't happening. That isn't really Jo--"
CROW: THE OTHER GUY! THE OTHER GUY! (breaks down sobbing)
MIKE: (giving Crow an awkward pat on the back) All right then, "the other guy."
TOM: Enough of this! We've got to go rescue him! C'mon, guys! CHAAAARGE!!!
(Tom head-butts Mike until Mike gives in and picks him up. With Crow, he heads for the theater exit.)
(To their amazement, the unseen exit is closed.)
TOM: What's the hold-up? Our pal needs us!
CROW: It -- urff -- won't open. It's jammed shut. (dawning horror) Those horrible little brats locked us in! Even Dr. F was never that cruel!
MIKE: We're -- trapped in here? For the duration?!
(Tom yelps and there's a loud clang as he's dropped on his head. Mike starts clawing at the unseen door.)
MIKE: It's got to open! They can't just leave us in here with this...this...
EST Bridget: (voice-over): Oh yes we can!
CROW: You little-- WHY?
EST Bridget: (giggle) Because we can! And because it's funny!
(Whimpering, Mike collapses into the nearest theater seat. Tom unsteadily bobs back up into his usual seat, grumbling.)
CROW: There, there, now, Nelson. It isn't like this is the worst thing we've ever sat through. Pull yourself together, man. Look, I'm sure it can't get any--
> He was just showing me this wonderful game. It's called
'Twister'," Violet said as she began to laugh.
CROW: (tiny scared voice) --worse. (pause) AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! LET US OUT LET US OUT LETUSOUT!!!!!!!!!!
TOM: Cut it out, both of you! We can get through this!
CROW: (blubbering) B-b-but wh-hut if they (sniff!) never let us ooooout?
MIKE: Hey, they're kids. They'll get bored eventually.
CROW: Yeah, but what do kids do with small pets when they get bored with them...?
(Mike thinks for a moment and then gulps audibly.)
MIKE: I... Um. Let's just read the post, guys.
> Any other time Tenzil, would have liked nothing better than
to watch Violet play Twister, but at the moment he
TOM: ...was more in the mood for some other stupid nothing-but-F/X movie, like Dante's Peak or Batman & Robin.
MIKE: Good, good, we can do this...just hold it together...
> had other things on his mind. There was a beeping at the door.
"It's me the captain I just came to play twister,"
Shatner said.
MIKE: (Torgo) ThE mAStEr apPrOVeSs of TwIsTEr.
> Tenzil just sat back and watched everyone play.
Mostly Violet
CROW: ...with just the tiniest charming hint of pink...
> but he did watch, untill finally he couldn't take it anymore.
TOM: I call it poetic justice, you little creep.
> He went to an ungaurded corner of the Twister board,
picked it up and started to eat.
MIKE: Oh, pshaw, that's how he solves EVERYTHING isn't it? Bad day at school, eat...fight with his kid sister, eat...trapped in space with William Shatner, eat...
> The more he ate, the he pulled untill finally, Shatner fell over.
TOM: If William Shatner falls over in a bad fanfic, does anyone hear it?
> "Now to find out who you really are," Tenzil shouted
he said as he grabbed Shatner's nose untill finally, the mask
ripped off.
MIKE: Oooops! No, that was his REAL face.
TOM & CROW: Ick!
> Underneath was an alien, that looked the way early
xenobiologists thought they would look like. Short body with
a stretched out head and big eys.
TOM: Hmmm...yes, it's a chihuahua all right.
> Violet screamed. "AHHHHHHH! What do you want
with us?"
MIKE: (alien, gruff) Will Smith! Hand him over! NOW!
> "Revenge for Roswell! Revenge for Roswell!"
******************************
In the cargo bay a two strangers burst from cyrotubes.
ALL: *NO*BODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!!!
> "pssst!" said a short green suited elf like man.
MIKE: (in a cheesy Cheech Marin accent) Wanna buy some fairy dust? Quality stuff, straight from Never-Never Land...you try this, you be so high you Never-Never gonna come DOWN, man...
> "Dartalon, you don't want everyone one this whole fraggin
ship to know we're here."
TOM: (Dartalon) Don't you know any other fraggin' swearwords?
CROW: (Elvar) No, I fraggin' don't. So shut the frag up, you fraggin' little muthafragga.
MIKE: (warningly) You're pushing it, Crow...
CROW: Oh frag YOU, Nelson.
> "Yeah, Elvar, I know, I know. It's just that this is
driving me crazy.
TOM: (Dartalon) I can't take it, I tell you -- I have to know what happened to the Snapple Lady!!!
> I mean last thing I remember is encountering that strange
light," his much larger friend said.
MIKE: Oh yeah, and there was that anal probe too...
CROW: (shocked) Mike--!
MIKE: Oh, you're just miffed that I beat you to it.
> ********************************
Linda Lee, a.k.a., Laurel Gand headed toward her
room.
TOM: But wound up in Madagascar.
> She began to look around, even dig threw some stuff,
as if looking for something.
CROW: (Laurel, monotone as if hypnotized) ...must find Chumbawamba CD...must find Chumbawamba CD...
> "Where are you Streaky?" she said as she began
to cry.
MIKE: Streaky went away because he doesn't love you any more, honey. Neither do we, which is why we're getting divorced. Now how about you be a good girl and go get your mommy a bottle of vodka?
> *******************************
Groucho led them through the dark woods and down
into a tunnel.
TOM: Dark woods, check...tunnel, check...now if I could just figure out that Groucho Marx stands for in Freudian psychology, we'd be all set to psychoanalyze Willey.
> When they reached the other end of the tunnel they reached a
small suburbian community that looked like something from
the late twentyth centurey.
CROW: Whoa! Willey wobbles but he won't fall down!
> They were greeted by two toodlers on little tricycles.
MIKE: Do we even want to know what a "toodler" is...?
> "Awndy! Yeah! You're back from from scool!" the
little boy said. "Can you help Sugar and me catch our new
dog, Twerri. He got away."
TOM: (Andrew) Liar! Admit it, you little hellspawn! That's the fifth dog Sugar's eaten this month!
> "Sorry Spike, I've got friends with me who really
need help.
CROW: (Andrew) Not MY help, you understand. I couldn't help a lemming off of a cliff.
> Maybe later," Andy said.
"Ummm.... you know those kids?" Brainy asked.
MIKE: (Andrew) In the modern sense of the word, or Biblically?
TOM: NELSON--!
> "Yeah, the used to live down the street from me.
CROW: Until they all ran off to become Children Of The Corn.
> For some reason my old neighborhood from when my family
lived outside Metropolis is out here," he replied.
"Hmmmmm......," Brainy said.
TOM: ("Brainy") Dress up the other Smurfs in ruffled skirts and go on the road as the world's smallest, bluest can-can line? It could work!
MIKE: Seriously sick, Servo -- seriously sick.
> Groucho continued to lead them silently
CROW: Well, that's definitely NOT Groucho Marx, then.
> till they came to to wrecked old wooden house at the end of
the street.
TOM: Oh great...okay, guys, don't even THINK about launching into that "Addams vs. Munsters" schtick again...
CROW: Get with the program, Servo. That's yesterday's news. We're into much more meanful philosophical debates now...
MIKE: (muttering) Gabrielle.
CROW: Xena!
MIKE: Gabrielle!
CROW: Xena!!
MIKE: Gabrielle!!!
CROW: Xena!!!!
TOM: Iolaus!!!!!!!
MIKE & CROW: HUH?!?
TOM: (shrug) Hey, anything to shut you two doofs the hell up.
> "We're going pretty far for a prize pick up," Halo said
with a laugh. "Who lives there anyway?"
MIKE: (Groucho) I dunno, but some meddling kids and their dog went in there a week ago and never came out.
> "My old math teacher Mister Stanson," Andy said.
CROW: Hmmm. I'd say that we're either in for some serious brown-nosing or a stomach-turning display of childish revenge. Stay loose, folks -- with Willey, it could go either way.
> Mr. Stanson was waiting for them at the door. He
was sitting at the door reading a book. They couldn't really
tell what book though.
TOM: Hey, don't feel so bad. He's a math teacher. He probably doesn't know what book it is either.
(The other two make various "ooo, low-blow" sounds)
> Finally, Stanson spoke.
MIKE: (Stanton) Willey's getting an F for this.
> "Gone, Gone form of man," he said. "Rise the demon
eTRIGain!"
TOM: A rhyming demon is bad enough news in the hands of professional writers. In the hands of an aspiring fanfic writer with a revenge agenda against his math teacher...perhaps I shouldn't use the uncouth word "disaster," per se, but, well, let's just say that, metaphorically, it's time to put the children in the cellar and kiss your livestock goodbye.
> "Gabby, you and Querl get out of here. I'll handle
this," Andy said as he threw himself in the way of some
mystic fire.
MIKE: And died in horrible twisting bubbling agony.
CROW: Hey! I'M the evil cynic! That's MY line!
> "Trust me, that stuff would have burnt you to a crisp."
CROW: (Andy) Me, I LIKE being burnt to a crisp! Mmm-mmm finger-lickin' good!
MIKE: So who IS this kid...? A real character or the writer's wannabe avatar?
TOM: I can't be certain, but I'm willing to go with Choice B.
CROW: I second that motion.
> As it was he had lost the leaves of a perfectly good
black jumpsuit.
TOM: His clothes are made out of leaves? Who is he, Peter Pan?
> The worst part about it was that the suit was a gift from the
crew at STAR LABS
MIKE: Yes, the almighty STAR LABS, serving your STAR needs for fifty years! In case you didn't get that the first time around, that's STAR LABS. Loud enough for ya?
> for his last Birthday he had celebrated, over one thousand
and three years ago.
TOM: Oh. Maybe he IS Peter Pan. ARE YOU EVER GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS LITTLE MAGGOT, WILLEY?!?!?
CROW: Servo--
TOM: I know, I know, I'm cool, it's okay...this IS part 17, Willey probably pored over The Magnificent Andy's origin about sixteen times before...but I mean come ON! I've tuned into the middle of much longer fanfic series before and not gotten this confused! That does it -- one more fanboy character named "Andrew" and I'm going to stick my head down the john and give myself a fatal swirly.
> In all the time he had spent in the 30th centurey he had never
celebrated his birthday.
MIKE: Hold on, back up. You read fanfic, Servo? Voluntarily?!
TOM: (through a gritted beak) Drop it or die, Nelson.
> Not that he ever had anyone to celebrated with,
CROW: So Andrew didn't have any friends, eh? Why am I NOT surprised?
> but that was beside the point. The suit was irreplacable.
TOM: There's a real premium on leaves when they're out of season, you know.
> *******************************
Gabby and Querl quickly ran down a hill and into
the woods,
ALL: (singing) To Grandmother's house we go!
> where they entered a little forest. They followed a path
untill they as a man with a long grey beard who carried a
large walking stick block their path.
MIKE: One word of advice, kids: if this nice old fella starts going on about the number 13 and kings under the mountain and needing a burglar, RUN AWAY. Immediately.
> "Who are you?"
TOM: (Monty Python) HhhhwwwWHAT is your quest?
> Gabby asked as they ran down the path.
MIKE: And therefore smack into the old man and his stick, apparently.
> "You should recognize me from the drawings in
history books. My name is Galileo," the man said.
CROW: Well, I'd probably have recognized you better if you were four-legged, four-armed, nude, and spread-eagled in a circle...
TOM: Don't go there, Crow. Don't go there.
CROW: What? What did I say? It's art!
> "But, Galileo is dead," Brainy said "Not only that,
but's he has been dead for over 1300 years."
MIKE: So saith the Indigo Girls.
TOM & CROW: (solemnly) Amen.
> *******************************
The moonlight's light shined over the warp version
of Earth.
CROW: And the starlight's light, and the streetlight's light...
TOM: Hello and welcome to Mystery Redundancy Theater 3000!
> Which was strange considering the moon had been blown up
sometime ago.
TOM: Thus destroying the late-night back-seat romantic careers of thousands of high-school Lotharios.
> Most people had gotten used to it by now, but then again it
was right there.
MIKE: Missing a chunk and engraved with the letters "CH," true, but there nonetheless...
> "Whatya mean I've been blown up. I'm here, ain't I?"
the face on the moon said.
CROW: And if you actually heard that last bit, double your medication prescription because honey, it AIN'T working.
> On this moon a dark evil presence lurking.
TOM: But enough about Rita Repulsa...
> "Desaad, come and we shall let loose the full force of
the Anti-Life equation," said the dark presence said.
MIKE: I'd make fun of Willey here for making up such a transparent name for a character, but I have the distinct feeling that DC is entirely to blame for this one.
> "Yes, my lord." Desaad said. "Lazy slave driving son
of a Qwaridan Care Bear." he thought silently to himself.
TOM: Anyone who is currently reading this story and did not just curl up with a moan of pain at this hideous travesty of humor is in serious need of psychological help!
CROW: Urrrgggghhh...Mike, when this is over can we make a pinata in the shape of Willey and beat it into very fine confetti? Please?
> "Make it the Anit-Froyinlavin Equation that goes
boom everywhere, for me to see, yadda yadda ye!!!" came
a very hi-pitched sqeaky voice.
TOM: (groans) As if life can't get any worse... Is this supposed to be a parody, or has Willey been into the amphetamines again?
> The hugh bulking body of Darkseid turned around. Just
about everything was right, except for the head.
MIKE: It was three sizes too big. Rather like Rosie O'Donnell's.
> The helmet was right, but once is head turned around an
even more sinister form took the place of his face. It was the
face of Jerry Lewis.
CROW: WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? *WHY*?!?
TOM: Because Willey hates us and wants us to suffer.
CROW: Oh. All right then. (pause) AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGG!!! HE'S SUCCEEDING!!!!!!!!!!!!
> "But, master, K'ln-X has been spotted in this area.
MIKE: (Darkseid) K'ln-X? Hah! He is of no consequence to me! I could blow my nose with him!
> Are you sure you want to do this. You might anger it,"
Desaad said, in a voice that sounded more like a speak and
spell then an evil genius.
CROW: Then again, whoever created the Speak-And-MATH was an evil genius. Okay, maybe not a genius. But definitely evil.
> "Oh, I have somethng capable of handling that," the
Jerry Lewis/Darkseid entity said as he pointed to a green
mirror like object which had the form of Andrew Weinstein
frozen in it.
TOM: (Darkseid) I'm going to extract his DNA and use it to populate an entire island with lumbering prehistoric characters just like Andrew, and then I'm going to feed Jeff Goldblum to them! Hah ha haaah!!!
MIKE: Hey...amber isn't green.
TOM: Don't ruin my moment of triumph, cheesehead.
> ***********************************
"Here's something funny," Andrew thought to himself.
"R.J. Brande becomes a millionarie, by selling used cars and
I end up battling monsters and stuff without being paid."
ALL: (mechanically) Ha. Ha. Ha. It is to laugh.
TOM: Guess what Willey learned in Economics today?
> He quickly transformed eTRIGain back to his math
teacher,
MIKE: (Andrew, haughty) I bore of your petty plotpoint. Begone, O completely unnecessary character.
CROW: When it comes to pointless, anti-climactic battle scenes, this guy is almost up there with Charlie "Dark Wing Duck" Rogers.
TOM: That was a plug for the upcoming MSTie of "JXL." Prepare yourself for fanboy terror of truly Vincentian proportions!
MIKE: GUYS...
CROW & TOM: (all innocence) What?
MIKE: (resigned) Oh, forget it.
> and stopped as he saw what looked like the last surviver of
the planet cnidaria
CROW: Gesundheit!
> playing a mandolin. Singing like a minstrel, following
someone who look a little like Booster Gold around as
he sang.
ALL: (singing) Brave Sir Booster ran away, bravely ran away away!
TOM: (Cleese) I'll bet you're gay.
MIKE: (Palin) I am NOT!
CROW: So Booster Gold looks like Michael Palin...?
MIKE: Hush, child.
> But it all seemed normal to him.
CROW: Says the character written by a man whose one-and-only running joke in one story was the name "Jed."
TOM: (Granny Clampett) JEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD!
MIKE: Not again! NO! Stop it!
> **********************************
Galileo led them back up the hill
TOM: (singing) The crime was looking up the truth...
> and into the backdoor of of a tan house. Andy, at least it
looked like Andy, was waiting for them.
MIKE: Heh! I've seen subtler foreshadowing in Keanu Reeves movies.
> "Hiya gang? What's up?" he asked as he began biting
into an apple.
CROW: Nothin', Shaggy, what's up with you 'n' Scoob?
> Then he noticed they didn't have any food. "What? You
want one?"
TOM: ("Andy") Heeeey, what's a little original sin between friends, eh? Eat up!
> **********************************
Andrew had no idea where Querl and Gabby could
have gotten to.
MIKE: And he was a little annoyed that he hadn't been invited. At this rate, he was going to be the only virgin in junior high.
> He knew this place could be dangerous, and didn't want them
to be hurt.
TOM: He wanted them dead. Dead! DEAD--!!!
MIKE: Whoa boy, down...
> Especially Gabby. It was strange, he had only known her a
short time yet it seemed like forever. Stranger still that he
already loved her.
CROW: Okay guys, explain this to me: how come in fanfics, the only available female character in the county, by some kind of twisted "default," just HAS to be the main male character's love interest? It's like Mr. Hormones takes one look at her, thinks "WO-man," and from there on it they're supposed to be a match made in heaven? Now, in REAL comics they don't automatically--
MIKE: Sue and Reed Richards, Jean and Scott Summers, any female Avenger...
TOM: ...Skids and Rusty, Paige and Chamber, Firestar and Justice, Cannonball and everything female within a five-mile radius...
CROW: (sulkily) Well, that's all well and good for MARVEL, but at least Wonder Woman and Superman have yet to get it on. So there.
> [ Yes, you're begining to realize now. About the why
we things are as they are.] Came the Ghosts of a Chancess
infinatley loud voices in his head.
MIKE: Hmm. Wouldn't that make your head explode?
> [Realize what?]
[About the Auraikles and us. What we were.]
TOM: Duller than a training film for retail clerks?
> [Huh? I don't get it.]
CROW: Me neither, like, y'know an' all. Y'know?
> [After the fall of the old gods, we wondered the
universe with out purpose.
MIKE: Or the slightest understanding of the English language beyond "Me wanna write'a fanfic."
> Then the war between chaos and order errupted.
TOM: And lo, there was much bitter squabbling over the last dried-out Stridex pad...
> We were beyond them. We realized that they must always
both exsist, and that a balance must be maintained.
CROW: All right, now, Chaos on this end of the teeter-totter and Order on that end...oh come on, guys, work with me on this! How hard can it be? Let's try it AGAIN...
> We must only intervene when the balance is threatened.
MIKE: Like that time we got all dressed up in Egyptian duds and made that nice old man from the nature specials think that there was a "thirteenth tribe" somewhere out there in the universe, and... (He trails off when he realizes that both bots are staring at him) C'mon, don't you guys like Battlestar Galactica?
CROW: (darkly) Never speak to us again, Nelson.
TOM: Oh, maybe we shouldn't be so harsh on him, Crow. I mean, you have to grudgingly like a show which regularly informs the Resident Cute Child that his dad's probably been dismembered and scattered to the solar winds. Again.
> But while waiting for such occasions, we still had no real
purpose. Until we spotted them, the Auraikles.
MIKE: Oh sure, but you'll have to be more specific, Willey -- there are LOTS of Auraikles. The Delphic Auraikle? Barbara "Auraikle" Gordon? The Southern Auraikle?
TOM: (loud and dramatically) Believe in yourself, Atreyu!
> The Auraikles did nothing but watch reality as it slowly went
about it's bussiness.
TOM: Perverts!
> They knew what would happen if Chaos or Order won.
CROW: Well. for starters, the entire Evil Ernie/Lady Death franchise would collapse like a deck of cards. I mean, who'd wanted to read comics from a company called "Order!"?
> They were bored and without purpose, just like us.
MIKE: (the "Ghosts") Except WE smell better.
> We decided that we should always observe chaos and order,
TOM: ...because it was better than watching UPN or Fox...
> to intervene on our own behalf to maintain the balance at
once, to make events interesting. But we were not doing this
for all the Auraikles.
CROW: We only cared about some of them. The rest got placebos and wire-monkey-mothers.
> No, we were doing this to the one we had treated who was a
bit, but not entirley like a daughter to us.
TOM: After all, when you're planning to slaughter something for its meat, you really shouldn't get attached...
> One we called it Auia, who was very very interested in
one of our little side projects called 'The History of the
Planet Earth.'
MIKE: Part One: That Hilarious Little Snake-And-Apple Joke I Played On The Natives...
> One day, during a major enlinement of your solar system,
CROW: --whatever the hell THAT is--
> a gap appeared between the realm of the Auraikles and
Earth, and our little Auia disappearred.
TOM: Ayep, that'll happen when you forget to put a cover on the old well out back.
> You see, the one we call Auia, you call-]
[Gabby!]
CROW: (Andrew) Nope, never heard of her. Can I go now? My catnip's getting cold.
> To Be Continued......_
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TOM: It's the end of everything! It's all over! Pray to your gods! AAAAH! ...Sorry, just a little HTML-coder's joke.
MIKE: Oh, and here I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. (He gets up and goes over to tentatively check out the theater exit) Hey! It's open!
CROW: Great! Let's get OUT of here before those little monsters change their minds!
(Crow's last few words fade out, as he is already fleeing the theater. Mike grabs Tom, jams him under his arm, and charges out after Crow like a football player.)
(6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... bridge)
(As the theater doors slide shut, a very angry Mike rushes to stage center. The three starchildren are all perched on the SOL console, kicking their legs and looking generally sweet and innocent. Sure. Riiiiiight.)
(Crow and Tom arrive a moment later, frantically vibrating about and shaking their heads to try to get Mike to keep his temper in check, but no luck. You know those fiery Wisconsins.)
MIKE: Now look here, you little hoodlums. I don't care if you CAN turn me into pistachio jello and wish me into a cornfield. You have NO right to come here and LOCK us into a theater and force us to read a Jesse Willey fanfic. Sure, maybe where YOU come from your parents let you run wild and torment sapients to your black little hearts' content, but that's not how it
is around here! Why, I oughta take you all over my knee and...
(The children merely giggle amongst themselves at his ranting. EST Bridget leans forward and kisses him on the nose, stunning him into silence for a moment.)
EST Bridget: Thank you very much, mister. We'll be going now.
CROW: What? You're now going to pull off our arms and legs and use them as tennis rackets?
EST Bridget: Naw, we got enough of that last week on Coruscant. Actually, you did us a big favor, and someday we'll come back and do something nice for you. Bye-bye.
(The starchildren disappear in a blink and a cheesy flash of special effects. Mike stares for a moment and then shakes himself.)
MIKE: Favor? What favor? I don't get it...
(EST Bridget reappears next to him, behind the console, conveniently hiding the fact that she's being played by a grown woman standing on her knees. ;)
EST Bridget: Okay, I like you so I'll tell you. Can you keep a secret, mister?
MIKE: (warily) Errrr...yeah, sure.
EST Bridget: We're not really the starchildren. We're Sandy, Peter, and T'j.
MIKE: Who? What? I don't...
EST Bridget: Silly! We're Jesse Willey's OTHER characters. He sometimes trots us out of his twisted little subconscious and uses us to publically make fun of other people's fanfics. We've been wanting to rough up some of HIS work for a long time, because it's worse than some of the stuff he makes us tear up, but we don't dare, because he's our Master. So we got YOU to do it for us! Pretty neato, huh? Bye-bye!
MIKE: No wait! You...
(EST Bridget/Sandy vanishes once again. Mike scratches his head thoughtfully for a long moment.)
MIKE: Um. Well. Er. Uh...I didn't get all of that, but I feel vaguely dirty. Do you guys have the creepy suspicion that we've just been callously used to forward some hidden agenda?
TOM: Hmmmmmm...hmmm...hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...no, can't say that I do. What about you, Crow?
CROW: Nope! The possibility that we're just Pawns in some Otherworldly Power Struggle never even began to consider the idea of crossing my mind. Hey! Anyone up for a game of Paranoia?
TOM: I'm in!
GYPSY: (just now swaying into camera range): Me too!
MIKE: Count me in, but I want to be a Psion this time. And no fair using live ammo...
CROW: Whyever not? Only a Commie Mutant Traitor would say something like that! GET HIM!
(Mike has only enough time for a squawk of protest before going down under a heap of rampaging bots.)
.-= FINIS =-.
Standard Disclaimer: MST3K and all related concepts/characters belong to Best Brains, Inc. -- long may they reign. The original text belongs to Jesse Willey (willeys@erols.com) who gave me permission to MSTie one of his pieces but who did not get final approval over the final result, so BOY is he gonna be surprised. (EVIL GRIN) I have nothing against the guy -- it's Mike and the boys speaking through me like Hunkra through Doonesbury's Boopsie. Honestly. Legion et al. belong to DC, I believe. Any other recognizable concepts, quotes, names, or other allusions contained herein belong to their respective owners and were just borrowed for the fun of it. No harm (well, no physical harm, anyway) was intended and no money is being made. Feedback is appreciated at kielle@aol.com. Kindly do not archive without my permission. Keep circulating the tapes.
STINGER:
"Look at us. Are clothes have changed and so has your hair.
I'm telling something is going on here, and I'm going to find
out what," he said as he headed for the door.