[Season Nine Opening Sequence]
[The Bridge of the Satellite of Love. Mike and Crow appear to be in a rather heated discussion in the background. Tom Servo stands in the foreground.] Tom: Hi everybody and welcome back to the Satellite of Love! We've got a bit of a problem here tonight. Certain former residents of Wisconsin here on the Satellite have been keeping a secret from us.
Mike: Hey! I said that I was sorry!
Tom: You see, the previously mentioned cheese head decided to keep some pets around the Satellite because they were really cute.
Mike: They were!
Crow: Quiet! I think that they're outside.
[Scritching noises can be heard off screen.]
Tom: Anyway, farm boy has been raising a quartet of "really cute" polar bear cubs.
Crow: Really cute, now fully grown, polar bear cubs that this goofball hasn't fed in a week.
Mike: They're all grown up! They should be able to scavenge for food by themselves!
[Loud thumps can be heard off screen.]
Tom: Well Mike, they're certainly trying, aren't they? And now if we don't want to become bear snax (TM) then we've got to stay on the Bridge.
Mike: Come on, guys! We're not trapped here forever. I mean, they'll eventually starve to death and die. Then we can leave...
Crow: Hey Tom? I don't see why *we* have to be trapped on the Bridge. I mean, the bears aren't going to eat us.
Tom: Crow, I wouldn't be so sure...
Crow: Hey! I'm going to head out there right now to get my Slip 'n' Slide!
Mike: Crow? I don't think that's a good idea...
[Crow exits. Mike walks over to Tom.]
Tom: 5...4...3...2...1...
[The sounds of Kevlar being torn, along with Crow's frantic screams, can be heard off screen. Moments later, Crow returns, sans head. Curiously enough, he can still speak.]
Crow: We have some Bactine around, right?
[The commercial sign flashes.]
Mike: We'll be right back.
[Mike hits the commercial sign.]
Crow: [V.O.] Ouch.
[Commercial: Do *you* have polar bears wandering about *your* house? If so, send them to Outpost.Com! We can use them!]
[The Bridge of the SoL. Mike stands next to Gypsy, who's
wearing a pith helmet.]
Mike: Are you ready for this, Gypsy?
Gypsy: [Faux Aussie Accent] Yep. I'm to go out and take care of those poly bars. Right?
Mike: Um, yes.
Gypsy: I'll be back in two shakes of a dingo's tail, mate.
[Gypsy exits.]
Mike: [mumbling] I really wonder about her sometimes.
[Tom and Crow enter. Crow's head is mounted upside down.]
Crow: Mike, we've got a problem here.
Mike: Tom, how on Earth did you manage to do this?
Tom: Hey, you try putting a head on someone using non- functioning arms!
Mike: [To Crow] This'll just take a second...
[Mike grabs Crow's head and struggles with it for a few seconds. Then he and Crow topple to the floor. After a few more seconds, a loud riiipping noise can be heard.]
Crow: [O.S.] YEOOOWWWWCH!
[The light to Castle Forrester begins to flash.]
Tom: Hey Mike? Klondike, Snow and Ooloo are calling.
Mike: [O.S.] Take care of it, okay?
Tom: Sure thing. [Tom floats over to the light and slaps it, somehow.]
[Castle Forrester]
[Pearl stands in the foreground, looking rather harried.]
Pearl: Tom! You answered! [mumbled] Damn. [Normal] Well! Um, how are things up there in Churchill?
[SoL]
Tom: Oh, fine. We're just waiting for a story from you.
[Castle Forrester]
Pearl: Really? Great. Well, I've got a fanfic around here for you. Somewhere. Wait! Wait! We can't start until Mike gets here!
[SoL]
[Mike pops his head up from behind the console.]
Mike: Oh, we're here, Pearl. We're, just getting Crow's head on straight.
[Castle Forrester]
Pearl: Heh. Hi Mike. Well, um, we'll have a story for you any second now. Oh Bobo? How's that story search going?
[Bobo enters.]
Bobo: Lawgiver? ASC's dry right now.
Pearl: Really? [Chuckles nervously.] Maybe Brain Guy has something for us.
[Observer enters.]
Observer: I'm afraid that I was unable to find anything at Gossamer either.
Pearl: RAAC?
Bobo: Nope.
Pearl: ACFF?
Bobo: Nary a thing.
Pearl: RACC?
Observer: Nothing.
Pearl: The South Park fans?
Bobo: They're discussing the symbolism in "The Terrance and Philip Show."
Pearl: The Xena people?
Observer: They're discussing the Trojan War.
Pearl: The "adult" Xena people?
Observer: They're discussing a different Trojan War.
Pearl: Oh. [pause] What about Ratliff?
Bobo: He's vanished off the face of the Earth.
Pearl: Damn. [To screen] Mike, the unthinkable has happened. We've run out of material for the experiments.
[SoL]
[Crow and Mike now are back in view. Mike is just finishing re-attaching Crow's head. Crow's eyes, however, are without pupils.]
Mike: Wow! No more experiments? That's great!
Crow: Mike? I think that there's something wrong here...
Tom: Hey Pearl? Have you considered just grabbing a random thing and sending to us?
[Mike grows wide-eyed.]
Mike: Tom! No!
[Castle Forrester]
[Pearl looks stunned.]
Pearl: That's a great idea! Brain guy? Can you zap something up for me?
Observer: I suppose so. [Observer's Sound FX plays and a large green book appears in his hands.]
Observer: Here you are.
Pearl: [Examining the book.] Hmm. The Ultimate Hulk. [Annoyed] Brain Guy! It's an anthology! Couldn't you have whipped up a novel at least?
Observer: Pearl, the last time I tried that, we ended up with the entire print run of that last "Dangerous Visions" book.
Pearl: That's right. Harlan was really ticked off about that. Well, I'll just pick a random story...
[She flips to a random page, and points.]
Pearl: Okay, here we go. "The beast with Nine Bands" by James A. Wolf. I hope that it melts your brain, Mikey!
[SoL]
[The trio in engaged in an argument. Crow's eyes are still pupil-less and the lights are flashing.]
Crow: James A. Wolf? Huh.
Mike: Tom! What are you doing?!
Tom: I was just trying to help!
Mike: Tom, DON'T HELP THE EVIL SCIENTISTS! Damn! WE'VE GOT SHORT STORY SIGN!!!!
Crow: Well, at least I won't have to watch it...
[Mike hits the lights, and the door sequence begins.]
[6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ]
[The trio enters.]
Crow: Hey Mike? Can you guide me to my seat?
Mike: Crow? What's wrong with your eyes?
[Mike hits Crow on the back of his head.]
Crow: OW! Oh. I can see again. Damn.
Mike: Crow, the next time that something like that happens, tell me!
> The Beast with Nine Bands
Crow: A story about Hank McCoy's secret life as a tour manager.
> By James A. Wolf
Tom: James A. Wolf? Either that's a pseudonym, or a description!
> The road stretched through a vast expense of dull, flat
Crow: Story?
Mike: Come on, Crow. We're not even done with the first sentence yet. Give it some time.
Tom: Yeah, wait until it gets really bad.
> Texas scrub. The silver truck-bearing the logo of Texican
> Beverages, the proud makers of Saguro Iced Tea, Commanche
> Cola, and Peccary Fruit Punch-
Tom: See? You're now free to riff away.
Crow: I'm getting the feeling that the Texican Beverage Corporation is based out of New York City.
> sped down the highway. Its
> driver, a heavyset man with a crewcut left over from his
> army days
Mike: Drew Carey?
> listened to George Strait.
Tom: And the first character introduced is a retired GI Joe.
> The occasional chatter
> strip drowned out the tape, but the driver knew the song so
> well that George sang right over the buzzing meant to keep
> truckers awake. It was part of the music of the road.
Crow: One of the cut numbers from "Phantom."
> Normally, Billy Joe McCay would not drive so fast.
Tom: Geez, even his name is inbred.
Mike: Boy, that Dennis Hopper sure gets around.
> He had a
> perfect safety record and never received a single ticket in
> his fifteen years of driving tractor-trailer trucks.
Mike: That's because everyone who tried to give him a ticket was now buried in a shallow grave.
> Tonight, however, he had a good reason for speeding back to
> Amarillo from Fort Worth. He was heading home to watch his
> son, Bubba,
Crow: The future President of the United States.
> play his first high-school football game as a
> starter.
Tom: Yes, tonight the red and black of Tascosa High School would be taking on. . .
Mike: Tom, please no more pointless Amarillo trivia.
Tom: Can't I even talk about the Helium Monument? Or the Cadillac Ranch?
Crow: Tom, let it go.
> Bubba was not in a position that received much
> glory, but even offensive guards need love, especially when
> facing a school with the best inside linebacking tandem in
> the state.
Crow: Okay, I think this character's hickness has been established by now....
> Billie Joe had the road to himself, and
> visibility was excellent, with a full moon bathing the land
> in her borrowed sunlight.
Tom: [Billy Joe] What's this here pentagram doin' on ma hand?
> The accident was not his fault.
Crow: Billy Joe probably shouldn't have let Joseph Hazelwood drive, but he looked so sad and lonely...
> He was thinking about the upcoming game when, suddenly, a
> mound-shaped form stumbled onto the interstate,
Mike: And an almond joy-shaped form stumbled away.
> directly in
> the truck's path. It was as big a Volkswagen minibus,
Tom: It's the Widowmaker! Mike: FLOOR IT!
> the
> kind the hippies from Austin drove and lived in.
Tom: I call no _Partridge Family_ jokes.
> The
> instant he saw the object illuminated by the semi's
> highbeams, Billy Joe instinctively swerved left and stomped
> on the brakes, slamming the heel of his palm on the horn.
Crow: [Billy Joe] Read ma palm, ya stupid horn!
> No truck can stop easily, even without the full load of
> sixteen-ounce bottles Billy Joe ferried.
Tom: He's the Charon of soft drinks.
> As he bore down on
> the mysterious object in front of him, he noticed the nine
> vertical stripes on its dust-colored flanks.
Tom: Tigger's on a rampage!
Crow: Tiger tiger burning bright, scaring truckers in the night.
> Then the thing leapt so swiftly that by the time Billy
> Joe's mind registered its movement, the thing was already
> on the way down.
Mike: With the rest of the Fantastic Four close behind.
> It landed on the trailer,
Tom: [Billy Joe] Get offa ma house!
> far behind the
> cab,
Crow: Yes, the cast of _Taxi_ wants to get as far away from this story as possible.
> pushing the vehicle further into the turn, causing the
> van to tip over dangerously.
>
> Billy Joe thought of his wife and God before his truck flew
> off the road and the impact drove him into darkness.
Mike: So, we've had a truck wreck, a wife, and a reference to God so far.
Tom: Yep. We're reading a country song.
Crow: [Billy Joe] Please God, I'm only 17...years away from finishing high school.
> The other participant landed on a Joshua tree abutting the
> road.
Crow: Bono and the boys aren't going to be too happy about that.
> The gnarled conifer shattered under the beast's bulk.
Mike: [Beast] Sorry. I'll join Weight Watchers as soon as possible.
> The creature righted itself, shook its head as if to clear
> it, and trudged into the prairie night.
Mike: The beast continued its evil search for Michael Landon.
> Earlier that evening,
Crow: Executives at NBC were desperately meeting in an attempt to stop the network's ratings slide.
> a cobalt-blue van was driving in the
> opposite direction on the same highway. Rick Jones was
> driving the van he referred to as the "Winnebago from
> Hell."
Crow: Somehow I have trouble picturing the Prince of Darkness and his minions tormenting mankind from a Winnebago.
> It did look like a small recreational vehicle on the
> outside.
Tom: But, on the inside, the cast of "Road Rules" had made some 'improvements'.
> Naturally, appearances were deceiving; the van, with its
> high-tech arsenal, could meet an M1 tank on fairly equal
> terms.
Crow: That's one hell of a motorhome....
Tom: Noooo. It's an EM-50 Urban Assault Vehicle.
> Inside the van was an astonishing assortment of
> personal weapons,
Mike: Actually, that sounds like my brother's car....
> some of which could place their wielder
> on an almost even footing with many of the super heroes
> roaming the world.
Mike: Heroes like Frogman!
Tom: Doug Ramsey!
Crow: And most of the Legion of Substitute Heroes!
> The van had been stolen by a renegade secret agent named
> Clay Quartermain.
Crow: I don't even know what a quartermain is, but I don't think they're supposed to be made from clay.
> A handsome, blond-haired man with
> chiseled features and intense blue eyes,
Mike: Well, that would be Robert Redford. But he's not in this story. Instead, we've got Clay "Pastyface" Quartermain.
> Quatermain had
> until recently been a member of a law enforcement agency
> called S.H.I.E.L.D.;
Crow: Sniffing Hounds In Eastern Loading Dock?
> its name was an acronym for Strategic
> Hazard Intelligence, Espionage and Logistics Directorate.
Tom: Its goal was to provide the espionage and logistics necessary to catch dem Duke boys.
> At the moment, he was glaring at the man hunched in the
> rear of the van.
Crow: With a talking great dane.
> The target of Quartermain's anger was an ordinary man with
> dull brown hair and thick glasses, which gave him a true
> impression of studiousness.
Mike: Stephen Ratliff?
> Nobody glancing at the Casper
> Milquetoast-like figure would guess that the world trembled
> at the mere mention of his name:
Crow: Bill Gates.
> Dr. Bruce Banner.
Crow: Well, I was close.
> Alter ego of the incredible Hulk.
Mike: And ex-championship mambo dancer.
Tom: o/~ The incredible, edible Hulk. o/~
> "You stupid, pigheaded mo-ron," Quartermain snarled.
Tom: To live with the mo-ron. To be like the mo-ron....
> "You
> *had* to brawl with that blasted mutant and screw up our
> schedule."
Crow: [Quartermain] That's the last time we crossover with those blasted Ninja Turtles! From now on, we leave 'em for that Dragon freak, got me!?
> Quartermain was talking about the previous night, when the
> Hulk battled the X-Man called Wolverine outside of Dallas.
Mike: Larry Hagman repeatedly told them to go away.
> A few nights before that, Quartermain and the Hulk had
> destroyed Gamma Base, and now they and Rick Jones were
> fugitives, searching for the government's collection of
> gamma bombs-
Tom: Shouldn't Quartermain be searching for King Solomon's Mines?
> devices like the one that had created the
> Hulk.
Mike: [Walter Winchell] Meanwhile, J. Edgar Hoover's G-bombs sped toward Capone's hideout.
Crow: Good grief! How much background does one short story need?
> Banner said mildly, "It was the Hulk, not me."
Tom: [Banner] No, wait! It was the one-armed man! Or maybe Kayzer Soze....
> Quartermain opened his mouth, but closed it hastily.
Crow: Wow. The fly problem must be really severe in the Texas panhandle.
Mike: It's probably mosquitoes.
> The
> border where Banner ended and the Hulk began had become
> nebulous, especially now that the Hulk was less powerful,
> but more intelligent.
Crow: Previously, he was at defensive tackle intelligence. Now, he's up to a cornerback.
> The Hulk's skin was now gray in tone,
> and he emerged from Banner with the setting of the sun.
Tom: So the Hulk's become a reverse Superman?
> "Look Quartermain, I said I'm sorry," Banner snapped.
Mike: [Banner] I just wanted to snuggle. Is that so wrong?
> "It
> that isn't enough, then take it up with the Hulk." He
> pointed to the blood red sun ,
Mike: Huitzilopochtli?
> low on the horizon before
> them. "He'll be out in a little while."
Crow: Probably after he finishes watching "Friends."
> Quartermain scowled.
Tom: [Quatermain] He's still watching that? They really tanked after that monkey left.
> "Do you think time is of the essence?" asked Banner.
Mike: Please. Don't use the word "essence."
> "Maybe," replied the ex-agent. "I have this feeling we
> aren't the only players in this gamma bomb drama.
Tom: Yeah look! There's Auntie Ness, the Swamp Thing and Ernest Borgnine too!
Crow: But Ernest Borg..
Mike: Enough.
> Call it
> paranoia, or even woman's intuition." He flashed a brief,
> ironic smile.
Tom: Duh, I made a funny.
> "Besides, the longer we're on the road, the
> more exposed we are."
>
> Jones groaned as the radio dissolved into static in the
> middle of "Paradise by the Dashboard Light."
Tom: Okay, there's a Meatloaf song.
Crow: This is going to turn into a "Rocky Horror" crossover, isn't it?
Mike: Relax. Even Marvel hasn't sunk that low. Yet.
> At least music
> was a distraction from the tedium of driving through the
> unchanging flatland. The moment was coming for the change,
> and Jones dreaded it.
Mike: Wow. Jones has had an exceptionally long puberty.
> He wondered how far down on the
> horizon the sun would go before-
Tom: ...it crashed into the Earth and engulfed the globe in its fiery wrath.
> "Ahh!" Banner clutched his stomach and crumpled.
Tom: Well, I see that the Frito chili pie that Banner ate in Canyon finally caught up with him.
> Right on schedule, Jones thought as he glanced in the
> rear-view mirror.
Crow: Hey! A white Bronco! With a bunch of police cars chasing it at really low speeds!
> Banner was in a fetal position, screaming in agony from the
> transformation that occurred with the setting of the sun.
> Jones determinedly switched his eyes back to the road. He
> had seen the transformation before; it still sickened him.
Mike: Jones had the same reaction to "Teletubbies."
> "Aaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!" The scientist's voice fell two
> octaves in that one scream.
Tom: Sort of like an inverse testicle-kick.
> Banner's body stretched as if
> every fiber of his being was on a rack.
Tom: The clearance rack at K-Mart, to be exact.
> His features
> contorted as his face became wider and a snarl set on his
> lips. The skin turned slate gray and his jumpsuit shredded
> as Banner's body grew.
Crow: This has to be the worst version of "The Nutty Professor" that I've ever seen...
>
> Being the Hulk was hell on the clothing budget.
> Mike: And he has a dickens of a time finding property insurance too.
> "Okay, Binky," the Hulk said to Quartermain with his usual
> growl, "Now where are we?"
>
> "We're in the county of Arcadia Plains, Texas," Quartermain
> said. We'll take Route 27 north to 287 all the way to
> Kansas. Is that okay?"
Mike: I think it'd be faster if we head down 36, then over through Denton, then over to Route 45.
Crow: No, we need to head over to I-19, then head two miles east to that interchange. After that, it's go past the next two lights, then drive east 400 miles. Boom! We're there!
Tom: Can't we just drive to the airport and take a plane?
> "Nothing's okay, especially not you, Quartermain," the Hulk
> replied. "You've got a beef,
Tom: So THAT'S where the beef is.
> don't take it up with Banner-
> say it to my face.
All: It to my face.
> If you've got the guts that is."
Mike: [Hulk] You might win Bruce Banner's money!
> The van sped on. It was already turning out to be a long
> night.
Tom: Well, why don't you just kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight?
> "What kind of girl do you think I am?" Suzy McAllen
> demanded of her boyfriend, Brent Brewer.
Mike: [Brent, hopefully] Cheap and slutty?
Crow: Suddenly, we're in a completely different comic book.
Tom: o/~ Well, I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday....
> Brent, not wishing to get slapped again,
Mike: Had Suzy arrested.
> censored his first
> thought.
Crow: Somebody needs to report Suzy to the ACLU.
> Instead he said, "Aw come on, Suzy Q."
Tom: o/~ Parking by the lake, and there was not another car in sight. o/~
> Suzy casually rearranged her hair and said, "I don't know
> why I came here. We shouldn't have left the party."
Crow: [Suzy] But when Ted Kennedy showed up, I thought I'd better high-tail it out of there.
> Brent, who knew why *he* came here,
Mike: God? Well, I imagine he just likes the scenery.
> realized his objectives
> were unattainable for tonight.
Tom: And he's out. No, wait, safe, safe at second base!
> A strategic withdrawal in
> good order would permit him to regroup and ensure that he
> would be well positioned for future attempts.
Crow: And the author exercises his deft control of euphemism.
> He turned the
> ignition and let the motor run for a few moments.
>
> Suzy sighed. "Brent, I'm sorry. It was-"
Tom: o/~ Cold and lonely in the deep dark night? o/~
> "Hey, I understand. It's okay. You just didn't feel like
> it."
Tom : o/~ Let me sleep on it, baby, baby. Let me sleep on it. o/~
> As Brent turned on the headlights, Suzy said, "I'm so glad
> that you-Brent!"
Crow: [Brent] Yeah, me Brent, you Jane.
> She pointed at a form illuminated by the
> headlights, and shrieked.
Mike: It's Meat Loaf! He's after Tom for copyright infringement!
All: AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
> Brent's jaw fell at the sight of the monster's head.
Crow: [falsetto] It's Richard Simmons!
> It was
> narrow, with a long snout, framed by a pair of donkey ears
> as long as his arm.
Tom: When Democrats are exposed to gamma rays.
Crow: That sounds like a mutant Trumpy.
> But it was the eyes- the black,
> soulless, beady eyes- that threw him into raw panic.
Mike: A brand new 1999 Chevy Raw Panic!
> He
> yanked the gearshift into reverse and stepped on the gas,
> hurling the car blindly backwards into the darkness.
Mike: Colliding with the darkness caused $800 in damage to the fender.
> After the Hulk's emergence, the van was silent for almost
> two hours.
Tom : [Hulk] You're still mad about me and Northstar, aren't you?
Crow: [Quatermain] We had something special, dammit! And you just...
Mike: [Jones] Shh! We're back live!
> Then Rick Jones shouted, "Whoa!" and pointed to
> the impressive sight of the wreckage ahead of them.
Crow: [Quartermain] That wreck'll divert the writer's attention from our little tryst!
Tom: o/~ It's the wreck of the Billy Joe McCaaay! o/~
> A tractor-trailer lay on its left side, three-quarters off
> the highway. Jones pulled over to the shoulder of the road.
Mike: [Jones] This is great! We can loot the trailer and use the ill-gotten gains to buy the Hulk that tanning booth that he's always wanted!
Crow: [Quartermain] Well, he is looking rather sickly...
> The Hulk remained in the van, not to hide, but to sulk and
> grumble about his two human companions.
Mike: I can sympathize.
Bots: [glare angrily]
> Jones tended to Billy Joe, who had miraculously escaped
> with only cuts and scrapes.
Tom: Yep, he's from G.I. Joe all right. He's able to eject from a plane just after it's been shot. He can stand in the middle of a fire fight without a scratch...
Mike: Tom, I never knew that you had this dislike of the Joes.
Tom: Well, now you know.
Mike: And knowing is half the battle.
Crow: I wonder if all of the juice from the truck has made the ground all, what's that word...?
Mike: Wet?
Crow: No. Tom: Moist?
Crow: No. Starts with a d...
Mike: Drenched?
Crow: Yeah, drenched!
Mike: Probably not. Those trucks don't really have that much juice in them.
> Quartermain walked the length
> of the truck, scanning the highway with a flashlight.
Mike: It's James Wolf's Lost Highway!
> "Should I call the cops, Clay?" Jones asked.
Crow: [Dr. F] Not now, booby.
> "Yeah. We'll keep the Hulk hidden back there." The renegade
> was unusually pensive.
Mike: His series had been canceled.
> "Rick, did you see anything. . .
> suspicious up there?"
>
> Jones tapped the medical kit against his thigh. "What do
> you mean, 'suspicious'?"
Crow: sus*pi*cious, sus-'spi-shus, adj., 14th century 1: tending to arouse suspicion : QUESTIONABLE 2: disposed to suspect : DISTRUSTFUL 3: expressing or indicative of suspicion
> "This situation is weird. A one-vehicle accident on a clear
> road, and no sign of another vehicle at all? There's no
> sign of a collision, either. I saw skidmarks from the
> truck, but nothing else."
>
> "Mechanical failure?"
Tom: Maybe he o/~ Never saw the sudden curve 'til it's way too late....o/~
Crow: We're in enough trouble with ASCAP as it is...
> That was what reporters always
> mentioned on the news when aeronautical officials could
> not figure out why a plane had crashed.
Crow: Well, it does sound better than blaming the crash on flying elves.
> "I doubt it. We have one set of skidmarks here,"
> Quartermain pointed his light down the road, "and they
> clearly indicate the driver swerved to avoid an object.
Tom: [Quartermain] And they also indicate that the driver was a 45 year old, left handed male with a receding hairline.
> Driver in the right lane of a westbound highway, swerves
> violently into the median strip and..."
Mike: Then he went to Tibet.
> His voice trailed
> off as he walked along the dark trail created by the
> truck's tires.
Crow: Boy, that Clay sure has a short attention span.
> The Hulk emerged from the van and, looking at the rear
> doors of the overturned trailer, said, "Texican Beverages.
> Good. I'll have something to wash my chow down after I find
> something to eat.
Mike: [Hulk] I love it when my drinks are full of broken glass.
> I'm gone." He crouched in preparation for
> a tremendous leap.
Tom: Bruce Banner stars in _Quantum Leap_.
> "Wait!" yelled Quartermain. "we're calling an ambulance
> and-"
Mike: Then we'll be heading off to KFC to pick up some Pokemon dolls.
> "I can't be seen," finished the Hulk.
Tom: Hulk! This is no time to be doing LARP!
> "I know. That's why
> I'm going down there." He indicated the arid landscape.
> "I'll hide out until dawn. Just before dawn, have Jones
> look for me with some clean clothes and some breakfast."
Crow: [Hulk] And have him enroll in a pottery course. I've got some lovely flower pots that need to be glazed.
Mike: I'm feeling a mite peckish myself too.
Tom: Let's take a break.
[Mike picks up Tom and they exit the theater.]
[1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . . ]
[The Bridge of the SoL. Tom sits (Stands? Hovers? Whatever.) behind the command console with a large drink in front of him. Gypsy stands nearby, dressed like a bartender.]
Gypsy: Freshen your drink for you, sir?
Tom: [Slurred] Sure thing, sweetie.
[Gypsy stands motionless for a second.]
Gypsy: [Sotto voce] Tom. I don't have any arms.
Tom: [Normal] Oh yeah. I'm fine then. [Tom resumes his slurred speech.] You know, some folks say there ain't no bears in Arkansas.
Gypsy: Uh huh.
Tom: [Slurred] Others say that there's a bear in the woods.
Gypsy: Really?
Tom: [Slurred] But what if there weren't a bear at all? [Tom, stares at his drink for a second, before shouting.]
Tom: BARTENDER! THERE'S A BEAR IN MY BEER!
Gypsy: Go home, Tom.
[Crow and Mike enter, both holding a sandwich.]
Mike: Tom, what are you doing?
Tom: [Normal voice] An old Doonesbury routine.
Mike: Well, stop it. We've got a sketch of our own to do. And Gypsy? Shouldn't you be out looking for those bears?
Gypsy: [Aussie accent] Right-o, Mikey.
[She exits.]
Mike: Well guys, who do you expect our mystery monster is today?
Crow: I bet it's Mr. McGregor, the owner of the haunted amusement park!
Tom: Well, let's review the characteristics of the attacker. It's big and it has beady eyes, long ears and a snout.
Crow: I still think that it's a Democrat. It's probably a horribly mutated version of Ted Kennedy. He'll probably head down to Au Bar soon.
Tom: No, no. It's a Marvel story. It's probably Fing Fang Foom.
Crow: Please. Maybe if Kurt Busiek were writing this.
Mike: Maybe it's Snuffleupagus.
Crow: Yeah right.
Tom: Mike? Keep the stupid ideas to a minimum, please.
Crow: Where were we? Oh yeah. Maybe the monster's actually some sort of dinosaur, long thought to be extinct.
Tom: Nah. Marvel's done that Savage Land shtick to death. Hey, we've got the Hulk here. What it it's some sort of creature mutated by the same Gamma Bomb that spawned the Hulk?
Crow: Ooh! That'd be really poetic. The Hulk has to fight a creature that his research spawned! But what type of critter is it?
Tom: A groundhog?
Crow: No, too goofy. How about a rat? Rats can survive anything! Even a Gamma Bomb!
Tom: No! Wait! Two rats! That'd be even better!
Mike: Yeah! And what if one of them became really intelligent...
Crow: Like the Leader?
Mike: Um, I guess. Anyway, this one rat's really intelligent and he wants to take over the world! Wouldn't that be great?
[Silence]
Tom: Mike, you're ruining things for us here.
[The lights begin to flash.]
Crow: Great! Not only is the mood ruined, but now we've got short story time too.
Mike: Ahhhh! Short story sign!
[Mike jumps about while the bots glare at him. Mike hits the lights and the door sequence begins.]
[6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ]
[Mike enters, carrying Tom. Crow follows behind.]
Tom: Gee, thanks Mike.
Mike: I was trying to help!
Crow: Right Mike. I'm sure that Mrs. O'Leary's cow was only trying to help too.
> The Hulk grabbed the flashlight from Quartermain. "That'll
> get the cops off your back."
Mike: How will taking a flashlight do that?
> "Now, hold on!" the ex-agent protested.
Tom: [G. Bailey] It's not just your money in that flashlight! It's Tom's and Rick's and even Steve's too!
> But it was too
> late. The Hulk leapt away, briefly silhouetted by the moon
> before vanishing from the night sky.
Crow: Batman's copyright lawyers quickly leapt into pursuit.
> "God," muttered Quartemain, " I wish he'd listen."
Mike: [Jones] Well, I believe in the "watchmaker" model of God, rather than an interventionist God. Still Clay, is this really a good time to discuss theology?
> "Yeah," said Jones, wistfully. "You know, back in the old
> days, he *used* to listen to me. Sometimes. But at least
> now he's smart enough -"
Mike: And dog-gonne it, people like him.
> "He's only smart enough to know he doesn't have to listen
> to us, Rick," Quartermain interjected.
Tom: Quatermass? Oh, sorry, wrong sci-fi story.
> "He's not smart
> enough to take care of himself." He headed for the van.
> "I'll call the cops."
Crow: [Quatermain] Maybe the Hulk will get smarter if he's running from the fuzz.
> Jones went back to the cab to make sure the trucker was
> comfortable.
Mike: [Jones] Hey Clay? Do you think this guy would be more comfortable if we took this axle out of his skull?
> As Jones wiped the blood from his face, the
> trucker muttered, "Big . . . big . . . couldn't stop.
Tom: [Billy Joe] Didn't . . . care . . . for. . . movie, but . . . couldn't . . . stop . . . watching . . .it!
> It
> jumped . . . What in hell was it? Big thing. . . big
> critter.
Crow: Nancy Wilson?
> It's gone now, ain't it. . . ain't it?"
Tom: Yes, yes. Carrottop's movie career is history.
> The Hulk landed two kilometers away, his impact making a
> satisfying *thooom*!
Mike: Then he jumped again, and landed with a "Biff." Then a "Zowie." And then a "Ka-plow!"
> He looked around, but saw nothing. No
> signs of food or civilization, and here he had to stay.
Tom: He'd wanted to buy land closer to the city, but the land prices here were just so reasonable!
> He
> sat in the dirt and thought back to the end of his latest
> brawl with Wolverine.
Crow: Which Wolverine was this? The adamantium laced Wolvie, the bone claws Wolvie or the Weapon-X Wolvie?
Tom: I think that it's the fabled "I don't do guest appearances" Wolvie.
Crow: Ooh! Neat! I've never seen him before!
Tom: And you never will again.
> The mutant runt had pushed a button
> in the Hulk's psyche that literally brought out the beast
> in him.
Tom: He put a 666 on everyone's forehead.
> The fight had ended only because Quartermain had
> fired on the combatants and chastised them for brawling.
Tom: You boys stop that right now, or no more isotopes for either of you!
> What had especially rankled the Hulk was when Quartermain
> told him, "If you're not the 'mindless Hulk' anymore, start
> acting that way. Get some priorities, for pity's sake!"
Mike: Plan for your retirement! You can open up an IRA!
> The Hulk thought about his priorities.
Crow: Topping his list was finding a really good apple cobbler.
> He wanted to stop
> the government from stockpiling gamma bombs which could
> make more monsters like him.
Tom: He also wanted to take a long, romantic walk down a moonlit beach with Jenna Elfman. But that pesky restraining order kept getting in the way.
> Right now though, his more
> immediate priority was to keep himself from being
> discovered while sitting out here in the desert.
Mike: Nearby, the Rat Patrol continued on it's usual course, never suspecting that a gray skinned giant waited...
> The Hulk snorted with derision.
Crow: [Hulk] Bah! They'll never convince me that cocaine is dangerous!
> That compulsiveness was
> pure Banner. On second thought, his attention to detail was
> useful, sometimes. Categorize everything.
Mike: Well, the Hulk does that too. Except his categories are "Good thing", "Bad thing", and "Vegas Thing."
> Where were his
> priorities? Not just tonight. Not just when he found the
> gamma bomb stockpile, but afterward.
Crow: Afterward? It's off to Pismo Beach and all the clams he can eat!
> If Banner thought he was cursed by the Hulk, that was
> nothing compared to the animosity the Hulk felt toward his
> bloodless alter ego.
Tom: Banner is to the Hulk as Siskel is to Ebert.
> Banner was a lead weight around his
> neck, pulling him below the water's surface.
Mike: Just like Joe Schumaker and the Batman films.
> There were
> place he wanted to go, things he wanted to do, but with
> Banner in charge, he would never get near somewhere like
> Las Vegas. No.
Crow: Banner was a Reno man.
> That prissy jerk would make sure the Hulk
> would have no opportunity to step out and live his own life
> for once.
Mike: Hey, you're using his body, have a little gratitude....
> That was when he heard the grunting and snuffling behind
> him, sounding vaguely like it came from some sort of
> enormous pig.
Tom: Or a Snuffleupagus.
Mike: Hey! You said that was a stupid idea!
Tom: Well, it was when *you* said it.
> He turned around in time to see a gargantuan,
> shadowy hump bearing down on him.
Crow: It's an enormous pig!
> The Hulk was so startled
> that , as the leathery form brushed against him, he fell on
> his rump.
Tom: When in doubt, have a character do a pratfall, that's what I always say.
> The. . . . whatever it was . . . disappeared into the night
> so quickly that the Hulk could not catch more than a
> glimpse. The gray-skinned behemoth sat on the ground,
> wondering what had shoved him.
Crow: An enormous pig. Weren't you listening to me?
> Jones came by about an hour after dawn with clean clothes
> and Banner's glasses.
Mike: I guess he started working on them at dawn.
> "Bruce?" he called out.
Tom: And 400,000 Australians answered.
> Banner cautiously stepped out from behind a boulder. His
> tattered pants hung in streamers from his lean frame, and
> his bare chest and arms bore the scratches of a cactus or
> two that he had brushed against in his travels.
Crow: So, he looks like Iggy Pop then?
> Bleary,
> bloodshot eyes swept the area to make certain that no one
> was watching the meeting.
Mike: And thus was Alcoholics Anonymous founded.
> "Don't worry, Doc," said Jones. "The coast is clear. The
> sheriff is too busy overseeing the semi's removal before it
> causes any big traffic problems."
Mike: [Jones] Apparently, that Farmer Brown's driving through in a few minutes. And I've heard that he can swear up a blue streak!
> "What did he think about you wandering off into the desert
> with a change of clothes?" Banner asked as he shrugged out
> of his torn outfit.
Crow: [Jones] Oh, the Sheriff used to live in Berkeley. He didn't even blink.
> "I told him my wacky best friend went running off after
> whatever had flipped the truck and just forgot to take his
> pants with him."
>
> Banner's eyebrows rose in a quizzical fashion. "And he
> accepted that?"
Tom: Well, if he didn't the rest of the story would be Banner in jail for indecent exposure.
> Jones shrugged. "Well, he didn't believe my first story."
> He grinned broadly. " I told him you were a werewolf."
Crow: [Jones] Then this weird foreign guy showed up and started jabbing people with a leg bone. It must be a Texan thing.
> "Wonderful," Banner muttered. He zipped up the new
> jumpsuit.
Tom: Bruce Banner's wardrobe is courtesy of Mr. Nelson of Wisconsin.
> "Let's go back."
Mike: To the middle of the desert?
> They walked briskly to the road. Banner told Jones of the
> strange encounter the Hulk had during the night.
Mike: [Banner] So then, this weird foreign girl with this horrible accent showed up, babbling about a Warewilf...
> "I don't like this, Bruce," Jones commented. "the driver
> talked a little before the ambulance arrived-"
Crow: [Jones] -and it convinced me that truckers should be seen, not heard.
> "How is he?" asked Banner. "I should have been with him but
> the Hulk-"
Tom: ..let's just say that nature called, and leave it at that.
> "-was right," Jones interjected. "the trucker will be fine
> - only a moderate concussion. Anyway, he said something big
> knocked his truck over. Something about the size and the
> shape of a VW bug."
Crow: Wouldn't that be rather small, compared to an 18 wheeler?
> "That about fits what I . . . the Hulk saw."
>
> The ambulance was long gone, but two police cruisers still
> bracketed the trucks, their lights flashing in warning.
Mike: Hey! THEY'VE GOT WRECKAGE SIGN!
> Remaining behind with the cars were the sheriff and his
> chief deputy, Sheriff Sowell, a black man with a
> linebacker's build, slightly graying hair, and a piercing
> stare,
Tom: Boy, things must be really tough over at the Hoover Institute if he's moonlighting.
> was engaged in an intense conference with
> Quartermain. He appeared to be listening patiently to
> Quatermain as the ex-agent pointed to gouges on the roff of
> the truck's cab,
Mike: A roff?
Crow: It's one of those Beanie Babies. I think it's a newt.
Mike: Ah.
> which matched the claw marks by the
> shattered Joshua tree.
>
> Dale, the deputy,
Mike: ...really missed Chip.
> wandered the length of the toppled
> vehicle, morosely inspecting the shards of headlight glass
> scattered along the truck's path.
Tom: Glass. Glass. Glass. Ooh! Bone fragment!
> He was a wiry, angular
> man, with a pinched face dominated by a ten-gallon hat and
> sunglasses.
Mike: Why do I picture this guy in a CASTLETON T-shirt?
> Dale looked up and glared at Jones as he and Banner
> approached.
>
> "'Bout time you got back here!" he yelled. "The sheriff
> wants to talk to y'all." He gestured towards Sowell, who
> glared intimidatingly at the two men. Dale, muttering all
> the while, continued his migration alongside the truck.
Tom: [muttering] Man, had another argument with my wife last night, kids wouldn't stop screaming this morning, almost got rear-ended by some jerk in a Volvo on the way to work, and now THIS? What next?
> "Well," Sowell said mildly to Banner. "I'm so glad to see
> that you didn't have any . . . misadventures last night.
Crow: [Sowell] 'Cause then Bob Aspin would be writing this, and we'd be waiting a couple of years for the next paragraph.
> Especially considering that something capable of doing
> that-" he pointed to the pile of kindling that used to be a
> Joshua tree "-is still running around out there."
Mike: I don't know. The tree looks pretty motionless to me.
> "I can take care of myself," Banner replied.
Tom: [Banner] Although it'd be really nice if you cut the crusts of my sandwiches.
> "One might ask why you had to run around in the dark last
> night," Sowell continued. "One might ask why you are
> hanging around with this young punk and blondie here-"
Crow: Deborah Harry? Here? Now?
> he
> gestured towards Quartermain "--who seems to know more
> about mechanical forensics than I was taught at the State
> Police Academy.
Tom: [Sowell] It's like the 'real' Police Academy, but we only get the comics not good enough to be in those films.
> But, since you are being so helpful, I'll
> just ask you about what you saw last night, Mr. . . .
> 'Bixby.' That *is* your name, correct?"
Crow: My Injoke-o-meter is picking up major readings.
> Banner glanced quickly at Jones, then nodded. "Yes, it is."
>
> "What did you see last night, pray tell?"
Tom: [Banner] Well, I thought I saw a plot, but that weasel from Astro City got there first...
> "Not a great deal.
Mike: [Banner] I should have waited for it to go on sale.
> It was dark."
Tom: And stormy too.
> "Well, it *was* night," Dale interjected.
Crow: Hey! Thanks Dale!
Mike: If Dale helps us riff this one, we'll be out of here in no time!
> A glare from
> Sowell quieted him.
Mike: Damn. Tom: Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.
> "Whatever I saw out there was large, about five, six feet
> high," Banner said. "It was about the size of a small car."
>
> "What make and model?" Dale asked.
Crow: Well, Dale's saving us a lot of work today.
> Sowell cut him with another look. Dale went back to
> examining the crash site.
Tom: [Dale] Yep, looks like one of them Elerian Model 65-Q type recon saucers with a tweaked hyperdrive. Those Elerians sure know how to build 'em.
> "Whatever it was," Bruce continued, "it knocked me down and
> kept going.
Crow: [Banner] I think it was the Energizer Bunny.
Mike: Well, you ain't never going to keep him down.
> I only got a vague glimpse of it. Big as a car
> and the shape of a half a wheel of cheese: mound-shaped
> front to back, but narrow."
Tom: Sounds like a croissant.
> "Hey, speaking of cheese," Jones said, "is there someplace
> where we can get breakfast? I'm starvin'."
Crow: Hey, the cops probably have some donuts they can spare.
> Sowell nodded. "Noreen's place. Few miles down the road, in
> Depinthehata. We can talk more there."
Crow: Where's Depinthehata? Mike: Just take a left turn at Albuquerque. You'll find it.
> The county seat of Arcadia Plains is the town of
> Depinthehata, derived from an Indian word of obscure
> origin.
Mike: It's Navajo for "Schmaltzy Cowboy Song."
> It is a typical, dusty and often tired small town,
> with garages, convenience stores, auto body shops, and
> other utilitarian structures.
Crow: Like brothels.
> One of its few distinctive landmarks is Noreen's Cafe, by
> the railroad tracks. It is frequented by truckers and
> stockyard employees who came despite the grubbiness, the
> ingrained dirt on the linoleum, the waitresses with stained
> aprons and the fly strips black with insects.
Tom: No, that's actually WHY they come. They love the ambiance.
> Banner plowed through two breakfast specials.
Crow: The other customers wondered why he didn't plow soil instead.
> Jones nibbled
> on a hamburger, while Quartermain gnawed on eggs and
> homefries.
Tom: [Homer] Mmmmm. . . film . . .
> Sowell and Dale sat on the opposite side of the
> booth.
>
> "How's the truck driver?" asked Banner.
Mike: [Banner] I thought it was called a fireman...
> "He's fine, Mr. Bixby," Sowell said. "The hospital will
> release him tomorrow. He still can't remember anything
> about the accident."
Crow: What, is he Trevor Rees-Jones?
Mike: Ahem. What did I tell you guys about Princess Diana jokes?
> Dale smiled. "Now I know you've been real helpful and all,
> but anything else you can do to help . . . well, we'd
> appreciate it. Something you remembered, or that makes
> sense only now, or even any wild ideas about the accident,
> would be helpful."
Tom: [Jones] Well, I have these photos of the accident...
> "In my expert opinion . . . " Banner began, then hastily
> clamped his jaw shut.
>
> "And how did you and Mr. Quartermain obtain your
> expertise?" Sowell asked smoothly.
Mike: [Sowell] Is it some of that new-fangled book learnin'?
> "I was being sarcastic," Bruce said quickly.
Crow: We know *that* feeling.
> "I couldn't tell, Mr. Bixby. But in your *expert*
> opinion. . . "
>
> "My best guess is some sort of animal."
Crow: Oh, big help, Mr. Hotshot scientist.
> "Biggest thing around these parts are buffalo," said Dale.
>
> "Bison," Banner corrected primly.
Mike: Oh no! It's a Street Fighter 2 crossover!
> "Whatever. But there's no bison within one hundred miles of
> here," replied Dale.
Tom: So they're not technically "in these parts," then.
> "Maybe," Jones said with a wry smile, "it was something
> *unnatural.* Got any mad scientists around these parts?"
Mike: [Dale] Just that Forrester fella who moved in a few months back. Said he wanted some time away from his family. Oh, and there's that Doctor Earnhart fellow too. He lives over by the renderin' plant.
> "No *mad* scientists nearby," Dale replied, matter-of-
> factly, "but we've got a *ticked-off* one by the name of
> Pearl Sin.
All: She sure does!
> Couple of the Brewer boys went joyriding in her
> jeep a few weeks back-she was *real* angry about that. Now
> that you mention it, I haven't seen her around for a week."
Mike: [Dale] Come to think of it, I haven't seen that Doctor Earnhart fellow for about eight years...
> "What does she work on?" Banner asked. "Anything to do
> with-"
Crow: Cabbages? She might be researching cabbages...
> "Sheriff! Sheriff! Oh, God, you've got to help us!" cried a
> shrill male voice. "We nearly got eaten alive!"
Tom: Duh. You can't go outside in Texas without bug repellent. Them skeeters will eat you alive!
> A wild-eyed teenager, whose disheveled hair was plastered
> with dirt and twigs, ran into the cafe.
Mike: It's the Feral Kid!
Crow: We've got a Road Warrior crossover too?
> "Dang," said Dale. "It's Brent Brewer.
Mike: Do all incidental characters in Hulk stories have the initials BB?
Crow: Yep. Just like the LLs in the Superman books.
> We'll talk to him.
> You three stay here."
>
> "This is getting weird, even by our standards," Quartermain
> muttered.
Tom: You're not even close to our standards yet.
Mike: Peanuts and Dr. Who? What were they thinking?
> He watched as Sowell and Dale spoke with the
> youth, attempting to calm him down. The teenager
> gesticulated wildly, explaining how a monster had wrecked
> his father's car.
Crow: [Brent] Like, this monster drove the car into the ditch. Then he, like, threw up from all of the tequila that he drank at Shelia's party...
> "I know," Banner said to Quartermain. "This situation makes
> me nervous."
Tom: [Banner] I mean, look at all of the disgruntled postal workers in here...
> Jones rolled his eyes and pointed to Banner's plate. "If
> you're so nervous, how can you eat like that?"
>
> "I'm hungry, Rick. *He* takes a lot out of me."
Tom: [Banner] You've heard of get-up-and-go? He fills me full of lie-down-and-die.
> Sheriff Sowell returned to the booth. "Finish up guys. This
> is a going on my tab."
Mike: [Sowell] And if it doesn't, I'm going to have to inform the health department about that little wombat problem in the kitchen.
> He gestured towards Quartermain.
> "Blondie and me are looking at this latest wreck. You two
> and Dale are paying Dr. Sin a housecall."
Crow: "Paying Dr. Sin a Housecall" 1974, Starring Martin Wagstaff, and Twinn Peeks.
> On the way to, in Dale's words, "the House of
Mike: Usher!
Crow: Representatives!
Tom: Style!
> Sin,"
Tom: o/~ There is a house in Depinthehata They call the House of Sin. It's about to be entered by Banner and Dale If someone lets them in... o/~
> Banner
> asked, "Are you sure you don't know anything about her
> research?"
Tom: [Dale] I'm not supposed to tell you this, but she's very close to a breakthrough on discovering what that stuff inside a twinkie is.
> "Nope, Mr. Bixby," Dale replied. "Don't see how that'd have
> anything to do with this case, anyway."
Tom: o/~ Attaaaack of the Killer Twinkies! Attaaaack of the Killer Twinkies! o/~
> The small ranch house, no more than five rooms, seemed
> lonely in the desolate prairie. According to Dale, that was
> exactly the way Dr. Sin wanted things.
>
> As they neared the house, Dale said, "Uh-oh."
Mike: [Dale] Tarnation! I durn forgot how to breathe again!
> Banner stared at the front of the dilapidated ranch house.
Crow: [Banner] I can paint this up, and sell it to the yuppies and make a bundle!
> The screen door was torn off its hinges. How often had he
> seen the results of violence, presented in similar ominous
> fashion? Destruction was becoming a cliche in his life.
Tom: As opposed to the early days of the Hulk, where macrame was a cliche in his life.
> Dale entered the house first,
Mike: His name left him unsure as to whether he was a lady or not.
> gun drawn,
Crow: That's almost as bad as Andy Warhol's soup cans.
> muzzle sweeping
> across the main room.
Tom: He's a cop AND a housekeeper.
> "Doc Sin?" he called out.
Mike: Doc's in? Doc's out?
> "Pearl?
> Anyone home?" He moved on to an adjoining room.
Crow: What?
Mike: That first name CAN'T be a coincidence, can it?
Tom: Hey guys, I've got a sneaking suspicion about something. Follow me!
[Mike and the bots stand and exit the theater.]
[1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . .]
[The Bridge of the SoL. Tom is pacing.]
Mike: Okay, Tom. What are you all fired up about?
Tom: Mike, there's something goofy about this story. Look at all the coincidences in it. A mad scientist named Pearl? Banner being called Bixby? Meatloaf songs? Dale? Mike, this thing's a walking inside joke! Even worse, [quietly] it's as if someone's out there watching our lives and making references about us...
Mike: Oh come on, Tom. Get real. Do you honestly think that someone's monitoring us?
Tom: Pearl...
Mike: Besides her. Okay, assume that you're right. We've got this stalker, watching us. They know about the nanites. They know about Gypsy, and Cambot, and Magic Voice. They know about Pearl, and Bobo and Observer, and your underwear collection and...
Crow: Your destruction of multiple planets?
Mike: [Forced] Thank you for reminding me. [Normal] Okay, they know all of this. What do you think that they're doing with this information? Are they making webpages about us? Maybe they're writing books, collecting the details of all of our experiments. No wait! They might be hanging about in newsgroups, talking about us, repeating our riffs, and making jokes about breasts. Maybe they're even writing little stories about us, inflicting further punishment on us by subjecting us to horrible songs, or children's books, or...
Tom: [Laughing] Okay, okay Mike. I get your point. Boy, I was being a bit paranoid, wasn't I?
Mike: Just a tad.
Tom: Well, let's get back in there and take our lumps then!
Mike: You got it! Crow? You're being awfully quiet...
Crow: Hmm? Oh it's nothing. I just thought that I saw a camera lens over there by the wall.
Tom: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[The lights begins to flash.]
Mike: Thanks a lot, Crow. Urgh. We've got short story sign.
[Mike hits the light and the door sequence begins again.]
[6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .]
[Crow, Tom and Mike enter.]
Tom: Hey! Wait a minute! Crow, you were talking about Cambot, weren't you?
Crow: Tee-hee-hee.
> Banner examined the contents of the cages by the opposite
> wall. Fourteen cages held two armadillos each.
Mike: Great. Story problems. I hate these.
> To his
> right, a table was covered with all sorts of scientific
> equipment: beakers,
Crow: [Beaker] Mimimimimi?
> Bunsen burners, test tubes, petri
> dished, extrememly powerful microscopes, and a
> sophisticated centrifuge.
Tom: She possesses *serious* nacho-making technology.
> Next to the table was a large,
> dilapidated refrigerator.
Tom: In it--lots and lots of stale Texican beverages.
> "Is that a brain?" Jones asked.
Crow: Jones was unfamiliar with that particular organ.
> He pointed to a small,
> grayish lump in a pan that sat in the center of the
> equipment.
Mike: This technology is powered by Play-Doh.
[The Intel sound bit plays.]
> "An armadillo's, I'd imagine," Banner said. "not much in
> size, is it?"
Tom: Okay, I didn't really want to go to this particular perversity, thank you.
> He looked up as Dale returned, "she's not
> here, I trust."
>
> The deputy nodded and reholstered his pistol. "Why does
> she have a fridge here, when there's one in the kitchen?"
Tom: It's probably just in case that beer stealing penguin drops by.
> "Obviously, it's for perishable samples."
Crow: [Banner] You non-scientist scum, you.
> Banner opened the
> refrigerator. "Interesting," he said, looking at a sealed
> plastic box.
Mike: Now, why would someone put a Furby in the fridge?
> Dale picked it up and read the label on the side of the
> box. "Hansen's Bacillus?"
Crow: It's a disease that causes young boys to sing.
> "Leprosy," Banner explained.
Tom: o/~ Leprosy I'm not half the man I used to be. I keep on losing little bits of me! Oh, how I hate my Leprosy! o/~
> Dale replaced the box with exaggerated care.
Mike: Funny, you'd think Dale would WANT Charlton Heston to show up.
> "Leprosy won't kill you," Banner said.
Tom: [Bruce] It only makes you stronger.
Mike: Or it makes you start moping around in a fantasy world looking for gold rings.
> "Naw, it just makes your nose fall off."
Crow: So it turns you into Mr. Potato Head?
> Banner smiled. "Actually, leprosy attacks the skin and
> deadens your peripheral nerves. You can't fee, and you can
> cut yourself without knowing. The cuts get infected without
> care. You know the rest. In fact, to be vulnerable, you
> have to have a low resistance to begin with.
Mike: I assume there's a REASON why we have to know this.
> Besides, "he
> said, holding up a stoppered glass bottle of an antibiotic,
> "she has the cure."
>
> "I read somewhere that armadillos get leprosy," said Dale.
Crow: Fascinating. I wish it had something to do with the subject at hand...
> "But eating them is fine, so long as the meat is cooked well."
Tom: Of course, I'd eat my own left buttock if it was cooked well....
Crow: Well, that was a half-assed riff.
> Jones poked his head into the main room. "Guys, I think I
> found something out back." He led them through the hall to
> the back door.
Mike: [Jones] It's the back door. Neat, huh?
> "Here it is," said Jones. He pointed to a ruined cage,
> twice as large as the ones in the laboratory.
Crow: [Jones] This is where the really big fish live. Well, before they die from a lack of water, that is.
> Dale looked grim. "I think the sheriff'll want to know
> about this. Let's go."
>
> They retraced their steps to the main room. Suddenly, Dale
> stopped short.
Mike: Mrs. Costanza got very mad.
> As Banner peered around the deputy, he heard
> the ominous *schuck-chack* of a pump action shotgun.
Tom: Someone's going to shoot the sheriff but not shoot the deputy.
Crow: The onomatopoeia really helps enforce the realism of the scene, don't you think?
> Pearl Sin was an attractive Asian woman, with a cascade of
> shiny, jet-black hair falling almost to her waist.
Tom: That is, if you consider the collar to be almost to her waist.
> She wore
> no makeup, not that her resolute face really needed it.
Mike: The folks at Lancombe paid her money to not go out in public. It's how she funded her research.
> At
> the moment, however, her beauty was marred by a large
> bandage covering the right side of her face from scalp to
> chin.
Crow: She's the victim of a freak toast accident.
> The red T-shirt she wore- emblazoned with the logo of
> Clark University- so dwarfed her petite frame that he beige
> shorts were almost totally hidden from view. A pair of worn
> sandals completed her outfit.
Mike: Michelle Yeoh?
Tom : Probably.
> Banner's attention, however, was riveted on the double-
> barreled shotgun she pointed in his direction.
Crow: So *that's* what they're calling them these days.
> "Gentlemen," Dr. Sin said, "I hope you have a good
> explanation for trespassing."
Tom: James Carville quickly appeared on the scene and blamed it on the Republicans.
> Quartermain and Sowell squatted by the side of the creek,
> looking at the footprint in the mud.
Mike: [Sowell] Yep. It's that Dawson fellow again. He's all around the place these days.
> The print was four feet long and two feet wide. It had four
> long toes, with the middle two of equal length and the
> outer ones slightly splayed. It disquietingly reminded
> Quartermain of a dinosaur's footprint.
Tom: Strom Thurmond had been there.
> "Look familiar, Sheriff?" he asked.
Mike: [Sowell] No! Damn it, Quartermain! I know that you know that I was in Theodore Rex! Would you stop rubbing my nose in it?
> "Vaguely. Maybe something I've seen on a smaller scale."
> Sowell looked at a willow tree gouged by the car. "Looks
> like Joe Brewer was telling the truth."
Tom: I thought it was Brent Brewer.
> Even the untrained
> eye could see the route the car followed into the grove,
> and the results of the violent reverse into the unfortunate
> tree trunk.
>
> Sowell looked thoughtful. "I think I know what that
> footprint is. It's crazy, but . . . " He rose to his feet.
> "We have to see Dr. Sin."
Mike: I just love how the names create so much imagery. Sowell, Quartermain, Sin....
> Quartermain stood up. "We sent Bruce, Rick, and your
> deputy--"
Crow: ...to local supermarkets, in an effort to find the best prices on detergent.
> "They might need help."
Mike: [Sowell] I'll call some of my other deputies. Deputy Williams, Deputy D'Souza, Deputy Will, Deputy Stein....
> Sowell jumped in the patrol car.
> Quartermain grumbled under his breath as he joined the
> sheriff. Kicking up a cloud of dust the patrol car tore out
> of the lovers' lane.
Tom: Hitting the girl.
> "What did that footprint look like?" Quartermain demanded.
Mike: Tire tracks, oddly enough.
> "And what does that have to do with this Dr. Sin?"
Crow: [Quartermain] Nothing. Just making conversation.
> "I see footprints like that all the time in my back yard,"
> Sowell replied. "Not so big, of course. Doc Sin conducts
> experiments on-"
Mike: TV executives. No one misses them when they're gone.
> "ARMADILLO!" Quartermain yelled, pointing ahead.
[Silence]
Mike: Okay, did anyone expect this?
Crow: I had my sights set on "wombats."
Tom: I expected it to be a horribly mutated Turner D. Century.
> Indeed, shambling across the road with an elephantine gait
> was an armadillo as large as a delivery truck.
Tom: AND IT'S DRINKING UP All THE LONE STAR!
[Crow and Mike stare at Tom.]
Tom: Hey, someone had to say it.
> It turned
> its shell-covered head toward the approaching car. Sowell
> swerved to avoid the creature . . . too late.
Crow: Why don't they look?
> The patrol car flew off the dirt road and into a ditch.
Mike: That defensive driving course really paid off for the Sheriff.
> "Deputy Dale, is that you?" asked Dr. Sin, completely
> aghast. "I'm so embarrassed. I thought. . . " She placed
> her weapon against the wall.
Tom: I thought you WEREN'T Dale! [laughs hysterically]
> "Where did you get that gun?" asked Dale.
Mike: [Sin] They were selling them outside the grade school...
> "I just came back from buying it. I do have a permit, you
> know," Sin nodded her head towards Banner and Jones. "Who
> are your friends?"
>
> Banner stepped up to offer his hand. "I'm-"
Tom: Eric Stratton, Rush chairman. Damn glad to meet 'cha.
Mike: That was Eric Stratton, Rush Chairman. He was damn glad to meet 'cha.
> "You're Bruce Banner," said Sin, with astonishment.
Crow: [Sin] I was expecting that Preacher guy. Isn't this a Vertigo story?
> With the speed of a striking diamondback,
Mike: [diamondback] Union! Union!
> Dale drew his
> pistol and pointed it at Banner. "I thought you looked
> familiar!" he said. "You're that Hulk guy. Don't you make
> any sudden moves! I'm placing you under arrest."
Tom: [Dale] Even though you could probably break me in half without trying. I'm just that stupid!
> "Dale," said Sin in a mild, yet firm, tone. "We have a
> larger problem than the Hulk. I think you know what it is."
Crow: [Dale] Global warming?
> "How did you recognize me?" Banner asked Sin.
Mike: [Sin] Oh, I'm a big Peter David fan.
> "You spoke at my high school during my senior year. I never
> forgot the speech -
Crow: [Sin] Something about how you were going to detonate a gamma bomb, and you were sure that it couldn't possibly turn someone into a monster. Then you started singing "Radar Love". It was really cool!
> it was an important influence on my
> life. but now we have more important things to do."
Mike: [Sin] Such as diversifying my mutual funds.
> Banner nodded. "I see you've been attempting to reverse
> damage induced by Hansen's Bacillus through the application
> of fetal tissue."
Tom: [Sin] No. I've been trying to make a soup that you could eat with a knife. Good guess though.
> "Not quite," Sin replied. "I used a localized hormonal
> treatment to induce regression of the neurons to an
> embryonic, and therefore regenerable, state."
Mike: Look out, it's turning into a Star Trek episode!
> Banner was genuinely impressed. "Now, that's clever."
>
> "In English, por favor," said Dale.
Crow: [Dale] Comprehende, comrade?
> "Fully grown nerve cells can't regrow, which is why spinal
> injuries can result in permanent paralysis," Sin explained.
> "But when we are embryos, our nerve cells grow like mad.
Mike: Because of all the Viagra in our systems, of course.
> What I do is fool the nerve cells into thinking they're
> young again."
>
> "How? With a toupee and sports car?" Jones asked.
Tom: [Rimshot] Ba-dump-chshhh!
> Banner glared at his friend. Jones smiled and shrugged.
>
> "Who supports your work?" Banner asked.
Mike: [Sin] MTV. I'm not sure as to why.
> "The Department of Defense, Dr. Banner," Sin said. "I
> worked at the Army Medical Labs in San Antonio, before I
> was forced out here."
>
> "And they tried to make your work into a weapon."
>
> Sin shook her head. "No, I almost wish they had-it would
> have meant more funding.
Crow: [Sin] And I so wanted to see France destroyed by my Armadillo hordes too.
> Everyone wanted to associate
> themselves with my project without doing any work. Then
> came those . . . *jerks* from the Veterans Administration.
> I had to escape out here to get any work done."
>
> "Why armadillos?" Jones asked.
Crow: And why the Veterans Administration?
> "They are susceptible to leprosy, breed faster than
> primates, and have litters consisting of genetically
> identical specimens."
>
> "Now for the fifty-thousand dollar question," said Dale.
> "What happened?"
>
> "Number Forty-two,
Tom: I am not a number, I am a free man!
Crow: Obligatory Hitchhiker's reference: Check.
> a male, received standard treatment, and
> regained at least seventy-seven percent sensation.
> Sometimes the treatment results in an increase in size,
> usually of fifty to one hundred grams. However, Forty-two
> kept growing and growing.
Tom: He's Clifford, the big red armadillo.
> He was . . . very large when I
> decided to sacrifice him."
Crow: To Baal.
> "Sacrifice?" Jones asked.
Tom: Yes! Sacrifice, as in immolate, ritually murder, kill....Am I striking a familiar chord yet?
> Sin drew a well-manicured finger across her throat. "I have
> to do that to half my subjects. Anyhow, three days ago I
> decided I had to see what went wrong with Forty-two.
> Unfortunately, when I opened the cage to inject him with .
Mike: Viagra?
Crow: Enough with the Viagra references.
Mike: But they're appropriate!
> . . a solution, he knocked me aside and fled out the door.
> When I started the treatments, he was about two and a half
> feet long. When he escaped, he was about the size of a
> German Shepherd."
Mike: He went on to become Rin Tin Tin's successor.
> Clay Quartermain burst
Crow: I told you they weren't supposed to be made from clay.
> through the door and staggered into
> the main room. "What I saw was bigger than any shepherd
> recognized by the American Kennel Club!"
Tom: Well, the Texas branch might recognize it. After all, everything's bigger in Texas!
> His face looked
> like an alley cat had vented its frustrations on him.
Crow: Or just a jealous girlfriend....
> Sowell entered close behind, also staggering and bloodied.
> Dale stood up and opened his mouth, but Sowell said, "I
> know about the armadillo.
Tom: He must have read ahead.
> We ran into it . . . so to speak.
> Our car went into the ditch and the radio got smashed. We
> walked all the way."
Mike: [Sowell] 250 grueling feet. It was hell, I tell you!
> Flopping into a chair, Sowell groaned softly, "I've got
> just one question for you, Pearl: How do we stop this
> thing?"
Tom: Take away it's credit card!
Mike: It's not charging, Tom.
> The group slowly turned their heads to a suddenly
> uncomfortable Banner.
Crow: [Banner] You're going to use me as bait, and hope that it chokes on me, aren't you?
Tom: Let's go, guys.
[6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ]
[The Bridge]
Mike: So. An Armadillo.
Crow: Yep. [Silence]
Mike: Well, let's move on then.
Crow: Sure. So Tom, you were talking about joining the NBA?
Tom: Oh, right. [Tom drags a pair of stilts from underneath the console.]
Tom: You see Mike, with Jordan leaving the league, combined with the aftereffects of the strike, I figure that now is the perfect time to join the league.
Mike: Tom, you're 2'6" tall.
Tom: That's why I have the stilts.
Crow: Your arms don't work.
Tom: Heck, you don't need arms to be a basketball player.
[Pause]
Mike: Okay, how?
Tom: Well, I haven't quite worked that out yet. But I'm sure that it can be done.
Crow: Tom, you can't leap over a stick of gum! How do you expect to dunk?
Tom: Crow, you obviously don't understand basketball. It's a game of finesse and skill, not petty dramatics like dunking or the hook shot or passing.
[Mike reaches down and grabs a basketball from beneath the console.]
Mike: Tom, let's try a little experiment. I'm going to give you this ball, and I want you to dribble this ball over to the basket, and score, Okay?
Tom: What basket?
Mike: You know, the one right over there, conveniently placed just outside of the area that Cambot can show.
Tom: Oooh. *That* basket. Fine Mike. I'll just do your little test and prove to you that I'm a potential NBA All-Star.
[Tom grabs the basketball, (don't ask how) and moves off screen. Seconds later, a series of loud crashes can be heard, along with skidding noises, the near constant screams of Tom Servo, the sounds of squealing brakes, glass shattering, a car alarm, and the frightened moo of a cow. Mike and Crow watch the carnage impassively. Tom reappears, sans stilts, with his dome cracked and a pair of little plastic birds hanging from wires out of his dome.]
Tom: [dazed] Mr. Speaker? I yield the remainder of my time to the Gentleman from Wisconsin...
[Tom does a nosedive to the floor. Crow and Mike stare at Tom's unconscious form, and then turn back to each other.]
Crow: So, an Armadillo then?
Mike: That's what I've heard.
[The lights begin to flash.]
Crow: We've got short story sign, Mike. Do you want to grab Tommy there?
Mike: Sure, if you can handle getting the sign.
Crow: Will do.
[Crow taps the light with his beak, and the door sequence begins.]
[1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . .]
[The robots and Mike enter.]
Mike: Okay, our wackiness quota for this experiment's filled.
Crow: So's our "inflict injury on Tom" quota.
Tom: [Dazed] Willow? Xander? Can you help me with those Zenubian Slime Devils?
Mike: And there's our "One of the characters says something when dazed" quota. Good job, Tom!
Tom: Thanks.
> Between Willot Creek and the scene of the truck accident
> was undistinguished flatland, but the grounds where the van
> was parked looked as if it had been excavated by a madman
> with a backhoe.
Mike: Boy, we're getting a lot of odd symbolism today.
> Jones looked at the gouges etched in the soil. The fresher
> ones were wider than their predecessors. "What happened?"
>
> "There was a huge prairie dog town here," Dale answered.
Tom: [Jones] It looks like they were all planning to build a pool...
> The deputy looked at Dr. Sin, who had changed into jeans
> and sneakers.
Crow: Instead of the latex catsuit we were hoping for...
> Armadillos are omnivores, but they prefer insects." She
> shrugged." Obviously, Forty-two was foraging for food."
Mike: He'll be heading off to the Stop 'n' Go then.
> "Not just here," said Sheriff Sowell. "I talked to Ned
> Harris over the radio. Says something went through his
> chicken coop like a tornado."
Crow: Wally West must have needed a snack.
> He sighed, then turned to
> glare at Banner. "I don't like you, Banner, or that thing
> you turn into. If it was up to me, I'd have you locked away
> someplace where you'd never be able to harm another living
> soul."
Tom: I swear, cops are so vindictive sometimes.
> "Fortunately for you, I've got a mutated armadillo running
> loose in my town, and right now, that takes precedence over
> you and your green-skinned alter ego."
>
> "He's, uh, actually *gray* these days, Sheriff," Banner
> said softly.
Mike: Oh, yeah, big difference.
> Sowell stared at him for a moment, then frowned. He
> dramatically waved a hand at the land around them. "This
> place might not be a paradise in the middle of the desert,
> but there are a lot of good people living here who've
> worked hard to carve out a little piece of their own to
> call home. I'd hate to see some oversized roadkill destroy
> what little they have."
Tom: [Sowell] After all, we've got that new Wal Mart opening up next week.
> "I understand, Sheriff," Banner said. He paused. "Look, I
> have to warn you. The Hulk may not want to help you-he
> tends to have his own agenda.
Mike: [Banner] If he starts babbling about legalizing it, just slap him.
> I don't like replying on him,
> and I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't absolutely
> necessary. But I *do* want to do whatever I can to help."
Tom: o/~ Well, I would do anything for Sowell, but I won't do that... o/~
Crow: Get him.
[Mike lunges at Tom, and the pair disappears to the floor.]
> Sowell nodded. "I appreciate that. As for the Hulk's
> cooperation, I'll cross that bridge after he shows up."
Crow: And another completely botched cliche makes its way into the dialogue.
[Tom and Mike resurface.]
Mike: No more Meatloaf. Got it?
Tom: Fine, fine. Geez.
> "Okay people," said Quartermain, jumping from the van.
> "Just to be on the safe side, I brought some toys."
Tom: Is this really the best time to show off your action figure collection?
> He
> donned something that looked like a knapsack attached to a
> gigantic telescope. "This is a SLIME, or Shoulder Launching
> Integral Missile Engine.
[The trio snickers.]
> It launches standard issue Smart
> Linked Anti-Monster Missiles or SLAMM.
[The snickering increases in volume.]
> These wire-guided
> missiles --" he displayed what looked like a rocket
> propelled grenade topped with a drill head " -- are tipped
> with Single Composite Rotating Entry Warhead, or SCREW.
Mike: These acronyms are powered by Synthetic Totally Unrealistic Propellants Integrated by Dinosaurs Inwardly Tracking Yodelers or STUPIDITY.
> Should go through an armadillo like a knife through
> butter."
Tom: So, an armadillo is made of butter?
Crow: I'm so confused.
> "So, Clay," Jones said, "do they actually *pay* someone to
> come up with those dopey names for military weapons, or do
> you stay up nights with a Scrabble set making 'em up
> yourself?"
Crow: Damn. Dale might be angling for *our* jobs.
Mike: He's welcome to them.
Tom: No more Quake tournaments...
Mike: [grimly] Dale. Must. Be. Stopped.
> Quartermain scowled menacingly at the young man.
Mike: [Clay] Don't be talkin' about my acronyms, buster.
> Dale turned to Banner. "Now, how do we get the Hulk out?
> Call you names?"
Crow: [Banner] I'll need about 400 Malomars. Stat!
> "We wait for the sun to set." Banner pointed to the blood
> red orb sinking below the horizon. "I suggest you leave me
> alone. The Hulk will know what we want him to do, and he'll
> tell you if he agrees."
Mike: [Banner] If he disagrees, he'll tear your head off.
> The others returned to the ban and waited for the
> transformation to begin.
Tom: The transformation involved many hours of slow, stop frame photography.
> Banner sat on the furrowed ground and watched the sun sink
> lower on the horizon. Already, he could feel the Hulk
> fighting for release, demanding to be set free from the
> thin, puny body that entrapped him, impatient to begin his
> nocturnal prowling.
Crow: So the Hulk *is* Buddy Love then?
> The sun disappeared below the horizon. Bruce Banner's day
> of freedom was over.
>
> The night belonged to the Hulk.
Crow: Or lovers. Or Michelob. No one's really sure anymore.
> An inhuman bellow of pain roared from the lanky scientist's
> throat as the transformation began. But it was more than a
> cry of pain.
Mike: It was a wail of pain.
> It was the birthing howl of a monster.
Tom: Or the cry of someone who just saw "Patch Adams." One of the two.
> * * *
Tom: Asterisks!
Mike: They're heading off to Gaul with the other Vikings!
> Moments later, the Hulk rose to his feet and stomped over
> to the van.
>
> "Dr. Banner?" Sin gasped as he strode into view.
Crow: No! It's... it's... Henry Kissinger!
> "No," said the Hulk with a sly grin. "Better." He climbed
> inside, stopping to stare at the elaborate weaponry that
> Quatermain wore. "What're *you* supposed to be - - a
> Transformer?"
Tom: Why not? They teamed up with Spiderman, why not the Hulk too?
> Quartermain sneered at him in silence.
>
> Sheriff Sowell stepped up and cleared his throat. "Do you
> remember anything about what Banner and I discussed?"
Mike: [Hulk] I remember...the Alamo.
[Cheers from unseen people erupt in the theater.]
Mike: When all else fails, go for the regional riff, guys.
> The Hulk glared at him for a moment. "I'm not an idiot,
> Quickdraw McGraw - - not anymore, at least. Talkin' to that
> four-eyed pantywaist Banner is as good as talkin' to me."
Crow: [Hulk] Except his diction's a bit better.
> He pointed a thick finger at Sowell. "Far as I'm concerned,
> you and your little slice of heaven can go twist in the
> wind for all I care." His lips curled back in a snarl. "But
> I want a piece of Mr. Nine-bands - he made me look stupid
> last night. *Nobody* makes me look stupid."
Crow: [Hulk] Except for that Urkel guy. Damn him!
> He glanced at
> Sin. "You want it dead or alive, little lady?"
>
> "Alive, preferably," she said.
Tom: So spin it right round, Hulkie, right round.
> The Hulk grinned. "No promises." He turned to Jones "Move
> it out, Jones - I got some payback to dole out."
Tom: Just an observation, but, why does this guy talk like a blaxploitation-movie character?
Mike: He must be channeling Luke Cage.
> Jones threw the van into gear.
>
> Two miles from Willot Creek, and five from the Harris
> ranch, they found the monster's burrow. The van's
> headlights illuminated the gargantuan mound of earth the
> armadillo had excavated.
Tom: [Dale] Wow! It looks like a big mound of dirt!
> "He won't be there," said Sin. "He's foraging now."
Mike: Just head over to We B Foraging! He's probably there.
> "Still, I want to take a look," said Quartermain.
>
> The Sheriff, with a grim expression on his face, joined
> him. They pointed their flashlights into the maw of the cave.
Crow: Inside, some people looked at the shadows the flashlights made on the wall and wondered what was real?
> "A lot of this is freshly dug," said the Sheriff.
>
> "Activating targeting system," Quartermain muttered. He
> looked to Sowell. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
>
> "Do you have to tote that SLIME thing around?"
Crow: [Quartermain] Yeah. The folks at Nickelodeon won't keep it for me anymore.
> "I don't think your hunting rifle will stop it."
Mike: Guys? Please stop talking about the size of your weapons, okay?
> "You're probably - what the heck?"
>
> Sowell stared at the van, which had sprouted a mechanical
> arm bearing a spotlight. The universal joint swiveled,
> pointing behind the van. The Hulk opened the door, and
> stepped out, followed by Jones and Dale. The young man
> carried a weapon that looked like the king of the bazookas,
> while the deputy carried an M-16.
Tom: It's lunchtime at NRA HQ.
> Pointing an oversized thumb at Sin, the Hulk said,"
> Sweetcakes says our buddy's heading here, and he's grew
> some . . . so to speak. We're talking school bus size, now."
>
> Sowell said, "How big will this thing get?"
Crow: Well, he'll just keep growing until his heart fails, I guess....
> The beam picked out the beige monster, off in the distance.
>
> The Hulk turned to Rick. "Jones, put that thing away before
> you hurt yourself. Go and run things from the van. The rest
> of you," he said, pointing to Quartermain and Sowell, "Stay
> put and outta my way." Then, with a tremendous leap, he
> flew toward the monster.
Crow: So the Hulk is going to fight a giant armadillo?
Mike: Actually, Crow, it's a Nine Banded Armadillo. Giant Armadillos only live in South America. The Nine banded Armadillos are found as far north as Kansas.
[Silence]
Tom: Mike, you're scaring us.
> The Hulk landed in front of the startled creature and said,
> "Okay, roadkill, your shell is mine!"
>
> The creature stared stupidly at the Hulk, its beady eyes
> blank with incomprehension.
Mike: Pauly Shore in a role that won't surprise you.
> The Hulk stared into the armadillo's vacuous eyes and
> realized that he was facing off against one of the
> stupidest creatures on earth.
Tom: Doug Herzog.
> Just like that butt-ugly, green-skinned baboon I used to
> be, he thought. Stupid and docile. Not a clue in his head.
Mike: Well, I wouldn't call him docile per se....
> Well those days are long gone.
>
> The Hulk cocked his fist back.
Crow: The Hulk, for Cold Cock Malt Liquor.
> "Target in range," Quartermain whispered. The armadillo -
> sent flying by the force of the Hulk's punch - was
> projected in the crosshairs on the helmet display. The
> SLIME beeped with the acquisition of its target.
Mike: Then it beeped again. And again. And again. Then Quartermain realized that his blasted cell phone.
> Quartermain was so engrossed with the weapon system that he
> failed to notice the sheriff and deputy aiming their own weapons.
>
> "FIRE!" yelled Quartermain as he launched a wire-guided
> SLAMM. Unfortunately,
Crow: He was in a crowded theater.
> the lawmen interpreted this as an
> order, and opened fire. A bullet cut the wire, and
> Quartermain's face turned white as his helmet screen went
> black.
Mike: So, did he yell until his face was blue?
Crow: I bet the lawmen's faces were red after that.
Tom: They probably just slinked away like the yellow bellied cowards that they were.
> The missile was now "dumb," out of control, and flying
> toward the unsuspecting Hulk, who was running after the
> armadillo.
Mike: Chasing Armadillos. The new film from Kevin Smith.
> A fireball briefly lit up the darkened prairie, for an
> instant framing the Hulk and his foe. Its roar was almost
> matched by a yell of indignant surprise from the Hulk. The
> armadillo gave an undignified squawk and jump straight up
> and landed on the Hulk.
Crow: Wile E. Coyote must be calling his lawyers right about now.
> "Quatermain, you jerk!" the Hulk Bellowed. "You are so
> dead!"
Tom: Looks like Quartermain's going to get one heck of a wedgie...
> Jones covered his face with his hands. That idiot
> Quartermain *had* to mess things up.
Mike: [Jones] He's even worse than that Clouseau guy we teamed up with in France!
> "Ah, " said Sin, tapping the screen. "This is what I talked
> about. Forty-two has jumped up and is fleeing the vicinity."
Tom: [Sowell] All right Dale. I guess we better deploy those anti-Armadillo mines that we've got in the car.
> "And the Hulk's jumping here," said Jones bleakly. The gray
> behemoth was headed in the opposite direction . . . toward
> the van.
Crow: Boy, buying that armadillo-shaped van doesn't look quite so smart now, does it?
> "I'm linking the spotlight to the triangulating sensors,"
> Sin said. "That way, we can follow its trajectory without -
> "
>
> The van rocked violently as the Hulk touched down.
Mike: So don't come a'knockin'.
> "Now, Hulk, before you do anything rash . . . " Jones heard
> Quartermain say.
>
> "Quartermain," said the Hulk with quiet authority, "come here."
Crow: The Hulk *is* Alexander Graham Bell.
> "It's not my fault. They were shooting and the wire -"
>
> "Oh great," said Dale. "Blame us!"
Tom : Well, you *did* shoot the guidewire.
> Jones shuddered as he heard the sounds of rending metal,
> followed by a stifled gurgle.
Crow: [Hulk] Man, killing a person is such a great way to get rid of stress....
> The Hulk opened the van door. Sin and Jones could see the
> shaken sheriff behind him.
>
> "Where did it go?" the Hulk asked.
Tom: [Sin] Look! Ticket stubs!
Mike: [Hulk] That armadillo's seen _Rent_ at least a dozen times!
Crow: [Sowell] Quickly! To the theater district!
> "He's running that way," said Sin, pointing northward. "We
> have the light on it -"
>
> The Hulk leapt in the direction Sin pointed.
>
> The two lawmen, quietly snickering, helped the fugitive
> S.H.I.E.L.D. agent into the van.
>
> In a strangled voice, Quatermain said, "Rick, there's a
> hacksaw in the toolbox."
Tom: And a plain old hack writing the story.
> Jones stood up and shook his head. "Why couldn't you just
> let him handle that thing?"
Crow: [Quartermain, strangled] Someone has to be the comic relief!
> Sin had to giggle despite Quartermain's murderous glare.
> The Hulk had taken the missile launching tube and wrapped
> it in a bow around Quartermain's neck.
Mike: Why am I reminded of Omar Sharif in _Top Secret_?
> It took the Hulk four leaps to catch up to the armadillo.
> For something that big, he thought, it sure makes good
> time.
Tom: It must be one of those nitro-burning funny armadillos.
> He overtook the armadillo on the fifth leap, landing
> directly in its path.
Crow: So it ran over him.
> The Hulk braced himself for the impact of the creature
> bearing down on him. The armadillo's paws flailed about as
> it skidded to an abrupt halt, stopping no more than two
> feet from the Hulk. Panting, the armadillo stood trembling
> on uneasy feet.
Mike: Don't be nervous! Just ask him out already!
> "Had enough?" the Hulk said with a sneer.
Tom: [slurred] One more for the road, please.
Mike: Armadillos don't actually talk, Tom. They kind of bleat.
Tom: Fine, Mike. [Slurred] Bleat, bleat, bleat, bleat.
> Number Forty-two gasped once for breath, then collapsed.
> After a few moments, its quivers stopped and the creature
> stiffened.
Crow: Oh, great. And this thing was the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything, too.
> The Hulk lifted the dead armadillo onto his shoulder and
> carried it back to the van. Everyone was waiting for him.
>
> "I didn't touch it," the Hulk said defensively. "I just
> chased it and it dropped dead."
Mike: [Hulk] And the LAPD were the ones who left that white glove! I swear!
> He dumped the limp creature
> on the ground to prove his point.
>
> "I suppose it grew too big for its heart," said Sin.
Tom: Nice call, Crow.
Crow: Hey, I'm not just a pretty face, you know.
> "I'll
> have to do an autopsy."
>
> Sheriff Sowell said, "Dale will get the flatbed to take it
> to the meat freezer in town."
Mike: [Sowell] We're gonna sell it ta McDonalds.
> He turned to the trio of
> adventurers. "Gentlemen, thank you for your help."
Crow: The Hanson boys thanked Sowell, and returned to the tour bus.
> "You're welcome," croaked Quartermain. It was apparent that
> the missile-launcher "necklace" given to him by the Hulk
> had irritated his throat.
Mike: Ricola?
> Swallowing in obvious pain, the
> ex-agent glared at the gray behemoth.
>
> The Hulk smiled innocently.
Tom: [Hulk] Heh, heh. I'm such a scamp.
> Jones was relieved to get back on the road again.
Tom: In fact, he wrote a little song about it. Ahem. o/~ On the road again. He just can't wait to get... o/~
Crow: Mike?
Mike: Tom, sing one more song, and in the next catalog, there's going to be a very special Tom Servo replica for sale.
Tom: Shutting up now.
> "Hey Bruce," he asked, "what did Dr. Sin give you?"
Crow: [Banner] Looks like a copy of the Watchtower.
> Banner held up the photocopied page with a highlighted
> paragraph. "Before I became the Hulk, I gave a speech at
> the doctor's school. This is from the school paper - a
> remark I'd made that I'd forgotten since then:
Mike: [Banner] "Folks, there is nothing sexier than a scientist wearing hot pants. Mark my words."
> 'While the
> results of scientific discoveries may cause fear, ignorance
> is the far greater menace.' "
Crow: [Banner] Then I added that fruit bats were an even greater menace than ignorance. What the hell was I on that day?
> "Not that gamma bombs are any slouch," Quartermain said
> hoarsely.
>
>Banner skimmed the contents of a handwritten note," She's
> already dissecting it. She says here that she has some
> wonderful theories about what happened. . . "
Crow: Moments later, Fox Mulder booked a flight to Depinthehata.
Mike: [Mulder] These giant Armadillos have to be aliens!
Tom: [Scully, whining] Mulder....
> Quartermain desperately wanted to forget this embarrassing
> fiasco.
Tom: He's not the only one, either.
> The sooner they got to Kansas . . .
Mike: ... the sooner they'd be surrounded by vast fields of wheat. Wheat. Everywhere you look. Acres and acres of wheat all around you. Closing in on you. . .
Crow: Mike?
Mike: Sorry. I was having flashbacks.
> Then he saw the billboard, advertising the newest product
> line from Texican Beverages: Armadillo Apple Juice Cocktails.
Crow: Wow! The Texican Beverage Marketing Department works really fast!
> A billboard, complete with a monstrous cartoon
> armadillo, grinning idiotically.
>
> Quartermain floored the accelerator.
Mike: [Stretching] O-o-o-kay....
Crow: So what was the point of this little episode again?
Tom: I don't know. I guess it was just a little vignette from the wild experiences of Team Hulk on their cross- country search for the elusive Gamma Bombs.
Mike: Yeah. That was a plot point that didn't really grab me either....
Tom: Let's get outta here, huh?
Crow: Yeah.... [They leave.]
[6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .]
[SoL]
[Mike and Tom stand behind the console.]
Mike: Well, we survived another one.
Tom: Yep. And only Crow and I got mauled, for once.
Mike: Yeah, I lucked out on this one. [The light for Castle Forrester begins to flash.]
Mike: Look like I spoke too soon.
[He hits the light.]
[Castle Forrester]
[Observer and Pearl stand alone with a glum look on their faces.]
Pearl: Well Mike, that's it. We're out of material for you. That's the end of the experiments. I'm going to lose my standing in the Mad Scientist's Association. Now, I'll have to go back to Law School. [She shivers.]
Observer: No, Pearl! You mustn't give into the even darker side!
Pearl: I'm sorry, Brain Guy. I'm already scheduled to take my LSATs.
[SoL]
Mike: So, with no more experiments, I suspect that you'll be letting me go then?
[Castle Forrester]
Pearl: No, I'm afraid that I'll have to kill you now. [She wanders over to a large red switch marked "Destroy".]
Pearl: No hard feelings, okay Mike?
[Bobo rushes in, clutching a piece of paper.]
Bobo: Lawgiver! Lawgiver! Look what I found on alt.fan.rugrats!
[Pearl takes the paper and begins to read it.]
Pearl: "Duggie's Down the River." [Excitedly] A crossover between Rugrats and Deliverance! The drought is over!
Observer: The experiments can continue!
Bobo: We're saved!
Pearl: Yep. [Grinning evilly] And Mike and his little friends are doomed. Until next time, Mike.
[The transmission ends.]
[SoL]
Mike: Rugrats?
Tom: Deliverance?
Mike: Well, that does it. I need a drink. Do you want one, Tom?
Tom: Sure.
[Mike hands Tom a bottle, then he takes a drink.]
Mike: Ah. Jackrabbit Jalepeno. A refreshing new flavor from the Texican Beverage company.
[Mike's face suddenly looks pinched.]
Mike: [Muffled] Excoof me.
[He darts below the counter where retching noises are soon heard. Tom looks skeptically at his bottle. Mike reappears moments later, looking rather pale.]
Mike: [Weakly] Yummy, yummy good.
Tom: Mike, I think I'll pass on that drink.
Mike: [aside] Good idea. [normal] Well, this next story just might be the end of civilization as we know it, right Crow? [looking around] Crow?
[Crow enters, stage right.]
Crow: Yes?
Mike: Where'd you go?
Crow: Oh, I had to check Usenet for a second.
Tom: Your timing's really lousy, Crow. Pearl has this horrible piece of fanfiction that she's going to show us...
Crow: "Duggie's Down the River"?
Mike: [Stunned] Yeah. How'd you know?
Crow: Oh. I wrote it.
[Tom and Mike stare at Crow, jaws agape.]
Tom: ARE YOU INSANE?
Crow: Oh, please. Guys, what could be easier than riffing a piece of fiction designed to be riffed? Besides, if Pearl couldn't find any more fan-fic, she might start showing us student films.
[Mike and Tom visibly shiver.]
Crow: Besides, we got away with it today.
Mike: What?
Tom: You, you're James A. Wolf?
Crow: You said it yourself, Tom. It's a pseudonym. We were riffing me the entire time!
Mike: [Chuckling] Well, little friend, I think that your plan just might work.
[The trio begins to laugh, and the image freezes, 70s TV show-style. The credits begin to roll as Mighty Science Theater plays.]
"The Beast with Nine Bands"
Original story by Crow T. Ro...er, James A. Wolf
Misted by Matt Blackwell, editor <mblackwl@ix.netcom.com> Jacob Churosh <JakeThFake@aol.com> Michael "Rottweiller" Wallen <crazyguy@cnnw.net>
With additional riffs by James A. Wolf
Funding for this misting is provided by the Texican Beverage Corporation, providing you with all of your favorite beverages, like Kiowa Kiwi, Santa Anna Bannana and Trinity Tobasco. Texican! Drinks with a taste as big as Texas!
The Hulk, Marvel Comics and all related characters and situations are trademarks of and copyright of Marvel Characters Inc. All rights reserved.
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and copyright of Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved.
Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for non-commercial parody, review, and commentary purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc., Paramount Pictures Corporation, Marvel Characters Inc. or anyone else, is intended or should be inferred.
No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s) are or should be implied. All characters in this work are fictional , and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Need to find a misting? Any misting? Well, head on down to the Misting archive at Web Site #9 then. It's conveniently located just off the information superhighway over there at:
http://pinky.wtower.com/mst3k/mistings.shtml
Ask for Mike! He's friendly!
And for more super-related mistings, head over to:
http://www.fortunecity.com/lavendar/pimlico/131/web.html
Just remember: They're graphic novels.
[The trio resumes moving.]
Mike: Well, that was goofy.
Tom: The author must have been watching "Police Squad" again.
Crow: There's one thing bothering me though.
Mike: What's that?
Crow: Well, I don't remember ever resolving that subplot with the polar bears.
Tom: Me neither.
[They stare at each other for a moment.]
All: Uh-oh.
[Suddenly, a large crash can be heard off-screen.]
Gypsy: [O.S.] Look out! They're on a rampage, mate!
[The trio turn toward the screen, as the sounds of rampaging bears come ever closer.]
All: AIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[The screen contracts with a ...]
\ | /
\ | /
--- * ---
PWOOOOSH!
/ | \
/ | \
------------------------------------------------------------
Keep circulating the posts.
Twaaaaang.
------------------------------------------------------------
> "ARMADILLO!" Quartermain yelled, pointing ahead.
------------------------------------------------------------