Mystery Science Anarchy 3000, Episode #105 "Decency Patrol #1" MSTed by the Anarkist (Discord999@aol.com) Original Story by Mr. Pink DISCLAIMER: This is a MSTing of a fanfic written by another author. The fic itself is the property of Mr. Pink, and he's welcome to it. The assorted characters contained within said fic are the property of their creators, listed within the fic itself. Mike, the Bots, and the Mads are the property of Best Brains, Inc. Rei Ayanami is the property of Hideaki Anno. Anything else mentioned is the property of its respective creator(s). No offense is intended towards the author of this fic, despite what it may appear to the contrary ... DRIVE-IN TOTALS: 1 Dead Body 6 Plot Contrivances Gratuitous Self-Insertion Gratuitous Attempting to Get Into The AAA Anti-Fic Fu Super Saiyan Fu Avatar Fu Holier-Than-Thou Fu ** Stars (SoL. Mike is in the foreground, while Crow and Tom are behind the counter. Cards are scattered on the counter, and each has a hand of varying size. Close inspection reveals them to be "Magic: The Gathering" cards. None of the players seem to notice that Cambot is on) Tom: ... OK, now that it's *finally* my turn ... Crow: Hey, I can't help that I take time to make my decisions! Maybe if you tried it instead of rushing into everything, you'd actually win a game. Tom: Why, you ... Mike: Guys, guys ... *finally noticing Cambot is on* Oh, hi everyone. This is Mike Nelson here, on the Satellite of Love. Me and the bots were just play-testing this Magic expansion we had the nanites whip up. Tom: I'll take it from here, Mike. See, we've often wondered what kind of effect inserting characters from the popular Author Avatar Association would have on everyone's favorite CCG ... Crow: Legend of the Five Rings? Tom: Well, besides that. Anyways, we had the nanites create these ... AAA Magic Cards! Crow: For example, right now I have Bane out. He's a 5/5 legend who, if you pay three red mana, can literally no-sell any attack by reducing its damage to zero! Tom: And then there's Dark Sonic, who, for the meager price of two black, can put a Rape Counter on any character to turn them into snivelling, 0/1 weaklings! Crow: And there's so much more ... (Commercial light flashes) Mike: I hate to interrupt you guys, but we've got commercial sign. *turns to the camera* We'll be right back. ****** Several ads that insult your intelligence later ... ****** (SOL. Tom and Crow have put down their hands, and appear to be two steps away from nuclear war. Mike is trying to calm them, without success) Crow: ... And I say my Ego Crusher cancels your Black Ultima! Tom: No way, bird-beak! The Black Ultima specifically says that it cannot be countered by any means ... Crow: ... While the Ego Crusher specifically says it counters ANY attack. Mike: Guys, guys ... it's just a game ... Bots: JUST A GAME?!? Mike: Uhm ... errr ... (MADs light flashes) Mike: Whew ... saved by the bell. Yes, oh Lords of the Pit? (Deep-13. T.V's Frank is sitting sadly on a beanbag chair in his room. The walls around him are bare of any decoration) Frank: Oh, hey guys. I'm just sitting in here and reflecting on all the good times I've had, what with sending you evil movies and getting killed by Dr. F and whatnot. Man, this place has got some memories ... (SOL) Crow: You mean Forrester really means it this time? Mike: But he can't get rid of you, Frank! Heck, you've been around longer than *I* have! Tom: Yeah! Shouldn't you have, like, seniority or something? (D-13) Frank: Afraid so, guys. Ever since that little trollop Rei came along, Dr. Forrester just doesn't need me anymore. Now I've got until the end of the experiment to get out, or he'll put me into a bad movie like he did poor Dr. Erhardt. (SOL) Mike: Who? Tom: Before your time, Mike. (D-13) Frank: So, I guess this is goodbye, you guy- (Suddenly, Dr. F leans in from the right) Dr. F: FRANK! What are you doing?!? Frank: I was just ... Dr. F: You're on my beanbag chair, Frank. Frank: (meekly) Sorry, sir. *stands* Dr. F: Better. Now, you better finish packing unless you'd like to spend eternity with Joe Don Baker ... (Frank sadly walks off. The camera pans up to where Dr. Forrester and a Rei clone stand. Rei is looking mindlessly off into the distance ... more so than usual) Dr. F: *turning to the camera* Oh, hello Mike. As you can see, there's been a few changes around here. One thing that won't change, though, is your eternal and constant TORMENT! (SOL) Bots: Yeah, yeah, yeah ... Mike: Look, just send us the experiment, alright? Crow: Yeah, Frank's got us depressed now. Tom: Thanks to YOU, ya big meanie! (D-13) Dr. F: Awwww, is poor Mikey-Wikey and his friends sad because Frank's leaving? Well, TOO BAD! And just for *that*, I'm sending you ANOTHER fanfic! (SOL) Mike: Another lemon, right? (D-13) Dr. F: Unfortunately, no. Sakura's still isn't returning my calls. Anyway, you'll just have to settle with an anti-fic this time. A *self-insertion* anti-fic. Burn in hell, Mike. Rei? *pause* Rei? Rei: ... Dr. F: *shakes Rei a little* REI! Rei: ... hmm? Dr. F: Rei, if you would? Push the button. Rei: ... oh. Sure. *does so* (SOL) Crow: Hmmm, looks like Dr. F may need to work on his formula ... (Lights and klaxons) Mike: We'll worry about that later ... WE'VE GOT ANTI-FIC SIGN! (Door 7-A Dog Bone, of course) (Door 6-It's Doug Herzog. You kick him in the groin, laugh at his pain, and leave.) (Door 5-It's an ad for Scream 3. Depending on your preference, you either tear it to shreds or bow down and worship it, then move on) (Door 4-You walk into a chat room right in the middle of a huge, incomprehensible roleplay. Confused, you walk out, shaking your head) (Door 3-An ad for the Author Avatar Association. You note the shameless plug and move on) (Door 2-A solid wall of ice. You grab a flamethrower and melt an entrance) (Door 1-Death stands before you. He points beyond him, and you hurry by.) (Door .69-A black hole opens in the fabric of reality, sucking you into the theater) (Crow, Mike, Tom ... buisness as usual, in other words) Tom: Well, at least there won't be any drawn-out rape scenes in this one. Crow: Hey, it's still self-insertion. Which means I'm not discounting the possibility of a lemon scene somewhere in here. Mike: Just what the heck's being killed this time, anyway? Tom: We're about to find out ... >Decency Patrol #1 Crow: Jerry Falwell, THIS IS YOUR LIFE! Mike: Damn Morality in Media ... > >A fanfic by Mr. Pink aka Doug Whitman. Mike: AKA Big Brother. Crow: Mr. Pink? Dr. Forrester's sending us Communist posts now? Tom: Mike, can I kill a commie for mommy? Mike: Oh, I don't know ... >With assistance from Jon Rambo Tom: What you call Fanfiction, Rambo calls Hell. Mike: Jon Rambo; long-hidden secret identity of Jon Arbuckle. >(We're still trying to think up a nickname for him) Crow: Oh, *I* can think up a couple ... Mike: Crow, the fic hasn't even started yet ... don't you think it's a bit early to be insulting the writers? Crow: Not really. >Got questions? Tom: Where do babies come from? Mike: What's Vietnam? Crow: How do I rig up interactive porn in the Holocabana? Mike: Crow ... >Comments? Mike: *makes OK sign* It stinks! >Death threats? Crow: C'mon, Mike, he's just BEGGIN' for it here ... Mike: Crow, I'm sorry. You'll just have to restrain yourself. >Contact Tom: (singing) 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... CONTACT! >me at mrpink67@hotmail.com Crow: As opposed to coldmail.com. Tom: I always kinda preferred lukewarmmail.com. >Note: Don't flame me, Bots: Awwwww ... >'cause I'll MiST your flame Mike: Wouldn't mist put the fire out? >and send it in to SVAM. Tom: Surgically Verile Animatronic Monkeys? Mike: Specifically Vile Arthritis Mockers? Crow: Spermicidally Violent Anarchist Masterba- Mike: CROW! >How's about that, beeyatch? Mike: I don't really need to hear someone called "Mr. Pink" try to kick it old-school ... Tom: This message brought to you by the Ebonics Council. > >Oscar belongs to someone. All: Ahhhh ... Mike: So it's an *OSCAR* anti-fic! Tom: Now this I can get behind ... >I'm not sure who, Crow: Uhm ... Oscar, maybe? >but I heard that they're Mike: ... One sick monkey. >dead. Tom: Not quite ... just Internet-dead. Crow: (Mr. Pink) This is how I show respect to the dead ... by slaughtering their creations! Let's hear it for SOUND REASONING! >If the author is indeed alive, no offense is intended toward him. Mike: Dude, anybody who writes lemons about cats can't be too sensative ... >I only hate his avatar. Crow: But if an Avatar is the fictional manifestation of its author, and he hates Oscar's Avatar, doesn't that mean he hates the author as well? Mike: Crow, you're thinking too hard. > >Doug Troy Tom: Long-lost brother of Castor and Pollox. Crow: Nah, nobody could be THAT arrogant with their self-insertion. Mike: Well, he could be related to Dianna ... Tom: (Dianna Troy) I'm sensing a bad fanfic up ahead, Captain. >belongs to me Mike: (Mr. Pink) He's mine! You can't have him! Mine, mine, mine! >and is a self-insertion character. Tom: Well, at least he admits his shortcomings. >You can figure out where I got the first name easily. Last name? Mike: Nelson. Tom: Servo. Crow: Robot. >Did I mention that I'm a Crow: ... moron? Mike: Crow ... we don't want to get flamed ... >huge fan of John Woo movies... All:... Crow: My God ... he IS that arrogant ... >Mr. Pink also belongs to me. Mike: So he belongs to himself? Tom: Who else would take him? >His name is property 1992 Quentin Tarentino. Crow: The blackest white boy in the West. Mike: Crow ... >Go see Reservior Dogs for more details. Tom: (Mr. Pink) Because I don't feel like describing him. >Richard belongs to Jon Rambo. Crow: Rambo's got the Dick. Mike: CROW! Crow: What?!? >I think I made him OOC, but frankly I don't care. ^_^ Tom: (Mr. Pink) Characterization? Who needs it? Mike: (Same) Who cares about getting things right? Let's kill some stuff! > >WARNING! WARNING! All: DANGER, WILL ROBINSON, DANGER, DANGER! >FIRST FANFIC ALERT! Crow: Oh, this will be fun. >I REPEAT, THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC! Tom: THIS IS CRAP, REPEAT, THIS IS CRAP! >EVERYBODY DUCK AND COVER! Mike: Huh? When did nuclear war break out? >STICK YOUR HEAD BETWEEN YOUR LEGS All: AIIIGGHHHH!!! Crow: DAMMIT, PINKO, THIS IS NOT WHAT IS MEANT BY SELF-INSERTION! >AND KISS YOUR ASS GOODBYE! All: Oh. Tom: Still not a good sign when even the author admits it's fatal ... > >This fanfic is not for everybody. Mike: No kidding?!? >It's an anti-fic, Crow: Oh? Who will Sir Oni be offing this time? Tom: Nah, I think it's more along the lines of a Bane outing. Mike: No, there's not enough spelling errors. I'm thinking it's Nav. >not as stupid as "Bloodbath", Mike: D'OH! >not as gory as "R*P*M", Tom: OK ... it's DEFINATELY not Nav or Oni, then ... Crow: We're on uncharted territory, my friends. Mike: Once more, then, into the breach? All: LET'S DO IT! >but still pretty unsettling. Bots: Tell us about it. >Read at your own risk... Tom: At the risk of our sanity, we must. >________________________________________________ Mike: It's flatlining already? Tom: Died before it ever truly had a chance to kill ... > > Mr. Pink scratched his goatee Tom: Well, maybe not. Crow: Ah, I see that the Undertaker decided to ditch the black costume and go for a more "manly" color. Mike: (Undertaker) Embrace the purity of pastels! >as he surfed the net as he did every morning, Crow: In other words, a shmuck who needed to get a life. Mike: Crow, when you get firebombed, I'm NOT putting you back together ... Crow: Mike, you worry too much. >looking for Tom: ... porn. Crow: Something this fellow is no doubt well acquainted with. >any new mistings Tom: Look no further, oh Lord of Fruitiness ... >and fanfics that had been added lately. Dr. F: (over loudspeaker) In other words, this loser was stealing my job. Mike: Uhm, Dr. Forrester? I thought we were supposed to be doing the riffs ... Dr. F: (over loudspeaker) Oh. Right. *clicks off* Crow: Well. That was ... odd. >Actually, that is what any outsider would think. Tom: (Nash) WOLF-PAAAAACK IN THE HIS-OOOOOOUSE! >Mr. Pink was actually searching for targets. All: *hum the entrance to Pulp Fiction* > > Being the leader Crow: And the Aura of Smooth becomes INSTANTLY apparent ... >(and, though he will deny it if asked, the most useless member) All: ... Mike: An author who admits his self-insertion sucks? Damn ... >of the bounty hunter group "The Decency Patrol", Crow: (Mr. Pink) Free speech activists. God, I hate 'em. >it was his job to find targets for the two people who were known, and >feared, by many an avatar. Tom: Uhhhh ... Mike: Looks like the Warrior's been casting his spirit again ... >He would find a suitable mark Crow: WCW marks, mostly. Mike: Crow ... >and then check to see if any well-known authors had put a bounty on >them. Tom: Oh, yeah ... I'm sure Jeff Wong, Megane, Tim McLees, and all the other fanfiction and MiSTing authors have nothing better to do than to post bounties on Author Avatars ... Crow: So if we put a bounty on this guy's head, does that mean he'd send whoever those two fearful avatars or whatever the hell they are after himself to kill him? Mike: *sighs* You guys are becoming too bitter ... > > And so Mr. Pink did his part, Crow: Yes, Mr. Pink knew his role and was a good little Nazi. Tom: I thought he was a communist? Crow: Details, details ... >finding possible targets and checking to see if there was any profit to >be had. Tom: (Mr. Pink) I must find out how to win friends and influnce people! >This was what he was doing as he came upon a fic entitled "Artemis's >Lover". Mike: Man, that's talented, considering Oscar's homepage is long gone ... Crow: And no archive holds the original story ... Tom: Maybe it's a magic computer that can transverse the space-time continuum, allowing it to find stories that have long since been erased from the fabric of reality? Mike: Tom, you need to lay off the Ratliff ... > > Noting the title as extremely forboding, Crow: "Free XXX Teens Sucking". Hmmm, wonder what that could mean? >he clicked on the link. Tom: (Online Voice) Thank you. You have just downloaded the Armageddon virus. In thirty seconds, your computer will explode, sending high- velocity shards of plastic and glass into your body. Have a nice day. Mike: Wow, Tom. That was a new level of darkness, even for you. Crow: Yeah. Have you ever considered joining the Ministry? Tom: *chuckles* Marc Calloway fears me. >After reading for a few minutes, his eyes suddenly bugged out. Mike: (Mr. Pink) Damn sudden depressurization ... Tom: Behold the Avatar's many talents! >He turned away from the computer Crow: (Mr. Pink) How DARE you let Steve Case touch you! It's over between us! >so he could distance himself as far away from what he had just read >as he could. Mike: Eh, I know the feeling. BOY, do I know the feeling ... >'He's a hermaphrodite, Tom: Hey, there's nothing inherently wrong with hermaphrodism ... it's a unfortunate condition. Crow: My Communist theory is seeming more and more likely ... >AND he's in love with a male talking cat?' Tom: Well, he's got me there. Crow: Actually, doesn't Artemis turn into a teenage girl later in Oscar's continuity? Tom: Yeah, but that's not until around "Oscar Toon". As of "Artemis' Lover", the cat's still a cat. Mike: It frightens me that you two know this. >he thought, throughly disgusted. Mike: Yes, he was so disgusted, he was magically "throghn" across the room ... Tom: Conversely, he frogned. >Then a smile creased his face. Crow: How exactly does one "crease" their face? Mike: I don't know, but it sounds painful. >Someone somewhere Tom: ... someplace sometime did some stuff with something. >had to have a bounty on this sick piece. Crow: Too late, buddy. Somebody at SVAM's already offed 'im. >He went to his chat room as fast as his slow-ass modem could, Mike: AOL, this is your life. >and logged in. Sure enough, there was a bounty for one Oscar Allias. Tom: And he found this out ... how? Crow: I know ... wouldn't a message board of some sort be more effective for posting bounties on fictional character? >The offer was unsigned, All: ... Mike: Does the author even know how a chat room works? Crow: Alright ... he goes into a chat room, and sees an offer to kill an admittedly highly annoying Avatar ... but he doesn't know who offered it? Tom: What is this guy smoking? And can I have some? >but the cash backing it up were enough to make Mr. Pink do a double >take. Tom: Behold the intricate grammar of Mr. Pink! Mike: Tom, grammer riffs are getting a little old ... Tom: But Mike, he's making it so EASY ... >Mr. Pink smiled. Tom: (stupid) Duh-hu-hu, I like muffins! Crow: (singing) When Communist Avatars are smiling ... >Payday! Mike: I'd prefer a Snickers, myself. Tom: Milky Way, here. Crow: Me, I'm still looking for Mr. Goodbar. > > He quickly rolled his chair (chair on wheels. Mike: (ominous) Flag on the moon. How did it get there? Tom: (same) A shot rang out. A woman screamed. >A must for the computer user) Crow: Those that're too lazy to use those things called "legs", at least. Tom: Are you kidding? I'm suprised he hasn't evolved them away by now. Crow: Oh, I don't think we have to worry about this guy being the product of advanced evolution ... >over to the intercom board and hit the 'Transmit' button. Mike: ('Transmit' button) Ow! I'm suing! Crow: Lame, Mike. Real lame. Mike: Hey, I'm trying ... Tom: Oh, that must be the button marked "Please Do Not Push This Button." > > "Code fuchsia! All: *snicker* Tom: Hee-hee ... let's see here ... his Avatar's called Mr. Pink ... he's calling a "Code Fuchsia" ... Crow: What's next? A Dorothy Parade? Mike: (Wicked Witch of the West) I'll get you Mr. Pink! And your little dog too! Bots: *sigh in exasperation* >I repeat, we have a code fuchsia! Doug All: DOUG?!? Mike: Man, looks like Hollywood turned the Dougster into a regular bad- ass ... Tom: Oh, wait ... it's just this guy's self-insert. Crow: DAMN YOU! HOW DARE YOU GET OUR HOPES UP LIKE THIS?!? >and Richard, report to the briefing room!" Tom: (Mr. Pink) I need more briefs! And quickly! >________________________________________________ Mike: And the plot line makes an appearance. Crow: Been done before. Mike: Uhm ... Tom: I've got it, Mike ... *singing* Oh crappy fanfic's majesty, above the fruity plain ... > "...report to the briefing room!" Crow: The fanfic's skipping again! AGH! >the intercom blared Crow: Ah. False alarm. >seconds before a bullet shattered it. Tom: I'll be damned! It IS Nav! Crow: (Nav) Damn Moonie intercom ... >Being screamed at definitely ranked as a bad way to wake up Mike: Well, hey, Tom's Demon Clock From Hell isn't much better ... Tom: Hey, I can't help it if I'm a deep sleeper, OK? >Doug Troy, All: BOOO! Crow: And the author's OTHER Avatar promptly arrives ... >former prisoner of the Matrix and resident John Woo fanboy. Tom: And yet another great movie is shamelessly ripped off ... >He put the smoking Sig Sauer Tom: Smoking is such a disgusting habit ... Mike: Sig Sauer? Is that what happens when a Nazi bites into a lemon? Bots: *groan* >back down on the desk next to his bed. Crow: Yes, books, alarm clock, German handguns ... all essential parts of the American nightstand. >He pondered on just laying in bed all day Mike: Yeah, but that's ultimately more counterproductive than anything, as it causes a distinct sense of lethargy to occur ... Tom: Nelson, you majored in Medicine? Mike: Not really ... but I watched ER once or twice. >and acting like he hadn't heard the announcement, Crow: But it was a White Sale at Penny's, and he just COULDN'T resist! >but then he remembered that he had just shot the intercom, Tom: Short Attention Span Theater was created for this guy. >and he definitely had to be awake to fire a gun. Mike: The Avatar's logic is astounding ... Tom: Mr. Spock, eat your pointy ears out. >He struggled to sit up in bed, groaning all of the way. Crow: Suddenly, I'm having flashbacks to "Mitchell" ... Tom: Doug Troy! Even his name says, "Uh, is that a beer?" Crow: Nah, doesn't have the same ring to it ... Mike: Should I even ask? Tom: Not if you value your sanity. Mike: Ah. Comprende, mi amigo. >He took a quick look at his alarm clock. 9:28. Tom: Doug Troy 9:28 says I just shot your intercom! >In two more minutes, Mike: ... Raw would be on? Tom: ... the tape would self-destruct? Crow: ... Bill Gates would earn exactly $50,467 and 32 cents? >his alarm clock would have gone off anyway. Crow: So, he shot that too. >He reluctantly turned his body 90 degrees Tom: (Author) I knew that Geometry class would come in handy! >and let his feet touch the floor. Crow: OH, will the great Author Avatar grace the humble floor with his feet's presence? > > "Ah, shit!" All: No thanks, already went ... > > He quickly pulled his feet back Tom: (Doug) How could I have forgotten the lake of piranhas surrounding my bed? Stupid, stupid, stupid ... >when he realized that the floor was freezing. All: Wha-wha-whaaaaa ... Tom: So the man whom the mightest Avatars fear can't stand a cold floor. Crow: Pretty much. Tom: Jeez. *I* could take over the AAA if that much is true ... Mike: Super-Saiyans? Piece of cake. Dark Sonic? Doesn't even break a sweat. But when you get him on that cold floor ... >He looked around for his shoes, Mike: None shall be seated as the Avatar searches for his shoes! >but they were all the way over by the closet, Crow: So how'd he get to his bed? Tom: Questions, questions, questions ... writing is hard! How do you expect him to keep up with such trivialties as realism and continuity? >and the only thing keeping Doug from walking over there and putting them >on was the Mike: ... fact that he was a complete and utter pussy. Crow: Glad you decided to join us, Mike ... Mike: Well, when he's afraid of a *cold floor*, I just can't help myself. >ten feet of arctic temperature floor that seperated them. Tom: He can't stand to walk TEN FEET across a cold floor?!? Crow: Yup. Tom: And he's supposed to beat a frikkin' SUPER SAIYAN?!? Crow: Pretty much ... Tom: Ah. ARRRRGHHHHH!!! *head explodes* Mike: *sighs* I'm really gonna have to work on his logic sequencer ... *pulls out a spare head and gets to work* >Doug searched for an alternative Crow: (Doug) Must it always be stuffing or potatoes?!? >and found only a pair of bunny slippers. Crow: Jon Arbuckle; mild-mannered comic strip character by day, Avatar slayer by night. Mike: *continues tinkering* >He mumbled something about this being "one of those days" as he put them >on. Crow: Not really a joke, but an increadible simulation. Mike: *finishes* There we go ... Tom: *coughs* Thanks, Mike. So what happened? Crow: Oh, Doug's tired of having either stuffing or potatoes and put on a pair of ultra-manly bunny slippers to avoid the Big Bad Floor. Tom: Ah. >________________________________________________ Mike: Want to be an Anti-Fic writer? Just sign here for the Mr. Pink Correspondance Course! > > Richard had a little less trouble getting up, Crow: Yeah, I always hate it when Dick can't get up. Mike: CROW! Crow: What?!? >but his intercom speaker was just as fragged as Doug's. Tom: Lobo would NOT approve. Crow: (Lobo) I'll teach ya ta rip off the Main Man, bastich! >He got out of bed and did his daily scratch-'n-stretch routine, Mike: Just as long as he doesn't give us an insight into "Richard's Usual Morning", I'll be fine ... >his bones popping Bots: *singing* Snap, crackle, pop ... >as they shifted back into a upright and locked position. Tom: So his bones just float around while he's asleep? Mike: Well, he could be like Skinhead from that old Spider-Man comic ... Crow: WAY obscure, Mike ... >The pops had a slightly metallic reverb to them, Crow: *flatly* Oh. Yay. We've got the Bionic Man in the story now. >caused by the layer of sub-dermal armor Rich wore. Tom: In other words, Dick was covered. Mike: TOM!!! Tom: What?!? I'm just talking about Richard ... Mike: *sighs* >He put a pair of jeans on and went to see what Mr. Pink wanted. Crow: (Richard) I guess I'm off to Heil Hitler, or something ... >________________________________________________ Tom: Would you sell your soul for a Klondike Bar? Sign here! > > Mr. Pink sat in the chair Mike: Not just any chair ... but THE chair. >and checked his watch. Tom: (Mr. Pink) Stupid sundial ... >'Some well-oiled team' he thought. 'Can't even get out of bed on time'. > > "What the fuck do you want?" Crow: And the Goodwill Commission wanders in ... >Doug's voice demanded Mike: Though Doug himself was in the bathroom, puking up last night's beer- and-pizza midnight snack. >as a figure wearing a tank top and boxer shorts walked in. Tom: *apathetic* Oooo. Muy macho. >Doug was well-muscled, Crow: (Doug) I here to pump ... you up! >but not nearly enough to fill the two-sizes-too-big tanktop. Tom: Well, he could always stuff ... > > "Morning, sunshine!" said Mr. Pink, All: *groan* Crow: And we promptly wander into the 1950s ... >in a perfectly chipper tone of voice. Tom: You get the idea this guy tried out for the cheerleading squad in high school? Crow: Yeah, but they probably rejected him because he was too femmy. Mike: You guys ... >He could sense Doug restraining his natural inclination to strangle the >rather scrawny Mr. Pink. All: Do it! Do it! Do it! > > "Is there coffee? Crow: (Shamrock) I WANT COFFEE! GET OUTTA MY WAY!!! >It ain't offically morning until after my third cup of coffee." Mike: Ah, usage of the word "ain't". The true sign of a real tough man. > > Mr. Pink took the pot off of the warmer Tom: And the fic promptly becomes a drug fest. Mike: Bounty hunters of the 1960's; Jerry Garcia gets pissed. >and poured some into Doug's cup. Crow: Liquid marijuana? Someone call Scott Hall! >Doug wasted no time and sucked All: *snicker* Tom: Why yes ... yes he does ... Crow: This guy just makes it TOO easy ... >the black caffinated fluid down as fast as he could. Mike: (Doug) Must ... have ... CAFFEINE!!!! >He handed the cup back to Mr. Pink in an unspoken demand for more. Crow: (Doug) I AM CORNHOLIO! YOU WILL GIVE ME MORE CAPPACINO! >It was then that Mr. Pink noticed the bunny slippers Doug was wearing. Tom: A guy named after the femmest of femme colors and a guy wearing bunny slippers. Guys, I think we've just wandered into a yaoi fic ... Crow: *screams in horror* >He had to bite his tongue Tom: Promptly severing the tip and rendering him mute. The end. Mike: So what's on ... (Distant rumblings are heard) Mike: ... uhm, never mind. >to keep himself from making a snide remark that would probably get him >killed. Crow: Oh, go right ahead ... Mike: Yeah, don't hold back on our account ... >Fortunately, Richard saved Mr. Pink from certain death by walking in. Tom: So the Pink was saved when Dick came. Mike: OK, that's it! No more "Dick" jokes, got it? Bots: Awwwww ... > > "Hey, boss. What's up?" Crow: (Mr. Pink) *I'm* up, Richard ... Mike: Crow ... Tom: (Mr. Pink) The sky. What of it? >Rich walked over to the coffee maker, not caring whether Mr. Pink answered >or not. Mike: Jeez, even this guy's Avatar gets ignored ... >He poured himself a cup Tom: INTENSE ... POURING ... ACTION! >and, unlike Doug, who had just downed his second cup, studied the >contents. Crow: (Richard) Let's see ... install instructions on page 3 ... controls on page 5 ... credits on page 69 ... >"Jesus, think you got it black enough? Mike: And Bob Guerin is there. Crow: Jesus lives in this guy's Mr. Coffee? Woah ... Tom: It's AFRICAN-AMERICAN, buddy! >I could paint my room with this shit." Crow: Behold the awesome wit of Richard. > > Mr. Pink tried to think of a witty response, but Tom: Failed miserably. >decided against it. It was time to get down to business. Mike: (Mr. Pink) OK, here the low-down, y'all. This Oscar, he be messin' wit our homies on da West Side. He be cuttin' inta our bidness, yo. So what I want yas ta do, is find this Oscar, and show him how we kick it old school. Now CAN YOU DIG IT?!? Crow: Mike ... Mike: Yeah? Crow: You're white. Mike: Oh, shut up ... > > "Guys, I think we've got a target." Tom: (Mr. Pink) ME! Crow: We wish ... >Mr. Pink waited for a response. Mike: Stupid AOL server ... I'll show you overloaded! > > It was Richard who spoke first. Crow: So it was Dick who ejaculated first. Mike: Crow, one more comment like that and I'll take away your Overfiend tapes. Crow: ... You know about those? Mike: Mmm-hm. Crow: ... Mike: Better. >"Who?" Tom: What? Mike: Where? Crow: Why? > > "The name's Oscar Allias. Crow: No, it's Oscar Martinez, ya pinko! Mike: Crow ... why on Earth do you care? Crow: Well, hey, I'm all for a little Oscar-bashing ... but at least get it right! >He's a hermaphrodite who has a hard-on for Artemis." Tom: Actually, shouldn't it be "It's a hermaphrodite who has a hard-on for Artemis?" Crow: Or, if you want to use gender-friendly pronouns, you can say "S/he's a hermaphrodite who has a hard-on for Artemis." Mike: Oh, I think I get it ... you guys are trying to get past the pain by breaking it down into technical parts, right? Tom: Actually, I was just being nit-picky. Mike: D'OH! > ? It was Doug's turn this time. Tom: So Doug came before the Dick. Mike: Tom, two words; underwear collection. Tom: ... Mike: There we go ... >"Artemis? As in the talking cat on Sailor Moon?" Crow: (Doug) The fairly cheezy cartoon show? Tom: HEY! Sailor Moon is way more than just some mediocre kid's show! Crow: Oh, spare me, Mr. Moonie ... Mike: Hey, you two! Knock it off. Now I know the fic is bad, but it's no reason to turn on each other. Just stay frosty, and we'll make it through this. Bots: *disappointed* All right ... > > "One and the same. Anyway, it's pretty disgusting." Tom: So's this. You don't see us complaining. Crow: Actually ... Tom: Oh, be quiet, you. > > "Define 'disgusting'." Richard challenged Tom: Disgusting (dis gust ing, dis skust ing), adj. 1. causing loathing. 2. offending the good taste, moral sense, etc. >Mr. Pink, who, in reponse, only turned the monitor around Crow: If it starts vomiting pea soup, I'm leaving ... >so they could read the first few lines of the lemon scene. All: *glance at the scene, and blanch* Crow: Ugh ... I'd forgotten how bad that fic was ... Tom: Maybe this anti-fic is deserved after all ... Mike: Yeeech ... now I know what you guys have been talking about ... >Both turned away, each turning a different shade of green. Tom: Doug turned a deep forest-green, while Richard had a refreshing mint color. >"That's a good definition." Tom: Let me see ... *ponders* yup, I'd say that classifies. > > "So, why Oscar?" Doug asked. Mike: Why not?!? > > "Here's why," Mr. Pink said as he brought up the Crow: ... middle finger. >bounty notice. Both Rich and Doug looked at it, eyes getting wide. Tom: (Doug) WOW! Five whole dollars! Crow: (Richard) I could actually buy an order of breadsticks! > > "I say Goddamn!" Mike: I say this sucks. Crow: I say that some soup would be nice about now. Tom: I say, I'M HUGE! >Doug uttered in astonishment. "Someone must want this guy bad." Tom: No, it's someone must want this HERMAPHRODITE bad ... Mike: Tom, you're nit-picking. Tom: Bite me. > > "So," Rich started. "When do we go to get this guy?" > > "Now." All: Wha-wha-whaaaaa ... >Mr Pink said. "Suit up and plug in." Mike: So what, they're Power Rangers now? Crow: I always thought anyone who ran around in multicolored spandex had to be a little funny ... >Rich and Doug left the room Tom: (Doug) Nope, don't look back. Just leave him alone with his delusions ... Crow: Sad, really. >to get ready. Mr. Pink leaned back in his chair and Mike: ... promptly fell out of it. Tom: (Teacher) No leaning back in your chair, young man! >looked back at the computer. "And you, Oscar. Crow: (Mr. Pink) Bring me a mint julip! >You are going down." Mike: Ahmed Johnson as Mr. Pink. Tom: Nah, then it'd be, 'Ahn doub Oscaw. Doub ah goug dowb.' >________________________________________________ Crow: I refuse to dignify that line with a joke. > The transport room was decorated in a mixture of goth Mike: Ah, I see the Brood have been decorating. Tom: Either that, or Mr. Pink's been taking lessons from Dark Starr. >and technology. Crow: So just imagine Gangrel with a cybernetic eye and a big gun, and there ya go. >Truly Martha Stewert's worst nightmare. Tom: I thought Martha Stewart's worst nightmare was that her true identity as the Third Horseman would be revealed? >A wall of computers were the main attraction, Mike: Yes, come see the amazing WALL OF COMPUTERS! Intel! Apple! Microsoft! iMacs! Come one, come all! >but the most prominent, and strange, part of the room were Crow: ... the giant, nude sculptures of Pauly Shore. Tom: *shudders* >the trio of chairs that were wired to the computers. Mike: (stoner) Woah, it's like, totally wired, man! >They resembled a medievil torture device Tom: Medievil? Isn't that the video game where you're a skeleton with a freaky-looking skull? Crow: Nah, I think it's what happens when Satan possesses your MIDI player. >crossed with the Modem From Hell (tm), Mike: Well I'll be! Satan IS online! Tom: I figured that out about halfway through 'Agony I-' Crow: SHHH! Don't say it! You might encourage Dr. Forrester to go find it and send it up here! Tom: Eep! >a device capable of uploading an person's entire mind into cyberspace. Mike: In other words, a Really Goofy-Looking Plot Device. Tom: What plot? > > Mr. Pink entered first, Crow: (Mr. Pink) You shall all feel my sloppy seconds! MWAHAHAHA! Mike: That's ... disgusting, Crow. Crow: I try. >taking a seat at the wall of computers. Mike: Well, I certainly hope he returns it. Tom: You're slipping, Mike ... >He cracked his knuckles and began warming up the mechanism. Crow: (Mr. Pink) Oh yeah, do ya dig that baby? Does it warm you up? Does it ... Mike: Hush, infidel. >Doug entered next, still clad in his tank-top and jeans. Tom: (Doug) Why? Because I'm cool like that. >Rich followed, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Both sat in the chairs Crow: INTENSE ... SITTING ... ACTION! >without a word. They knew the drill. Tom: I'd like to use a drill on these guys ... Mike: Tom, be nice ... Tom: I'm sorry, Mike ... I'm just bitter. Mike: Shhh, I know ... >Mr. Pink went over to both of them Mike: (Mr. Pink) Hey, you guys wanna go out for a beer after this, or ... >and inserted the link into the sockets on the back of their necks. Mike: (Mr. Pink) Oh, never mind. > > "You guys ready to tune in, turn on, and drop out?" Mr. Pink >asked. Tom: I *knew* this thing had to be written under the influence of mind- altering drugs ... > > "Aww, hell yeah." said an energetic Doug, Mike: As Stone Cold Steve Austin promptly ran in and sued Doug for copy- right infringement. >the trio of coffees finally taking effect. Crow: (Doug) G-g-gimme SURGE!!!! > > "Beam us up, Scotty." replied Rich. Tom: Behold the evil of Trekkies. > > "Okay, get ready. Three... Crow: Four! >two... Tom: One and a half! >one..." Mike: Googleplex! > > Both bodies jolted All: ARGH! Mike: God help us, it IS a lemon! Tom: Worse ... it's got Jamie Jeans in it! All: RUUUUNNNN!!! >as the uplink took effect. All: Oh. Crow: False alarm. >Two computer screens flared to life, Tom: (Mr. Pink) Wow! I can watch HBO and the Spice Channel AT THE SAME TIME! >showing what both Doug and Rich were seeing. Crow: A tunnel of light, with a strange man holding a pitchfork at the end. >________________________________________________ Mike: (Chris Hyatte) Ladies and gentlemen, OUR LINE OF THE NIGHT! > > It was white. Very white. Tom: And Bob Guerin rejoiced. >Doug looked around Crow: (stupid) Duhhhh ... light hurts ... >and saw that there was not a distinguishing feature in the entire >landscape. Mike: Ah, must be a modern art painting. Crow: Or maybe it's the Fourth Level of Hell ... > > "Are we gonna get our guns or not, pink-boy?" Crow: Pink-boy? Bret Hart's in this? Mike: I always knew there was something funny about that damned Canadian ... >Doug said to the air. All: ??? Crow: OK ... so either the air is pink, or he's suggesting that Mr. Pink is, in fact, God? Mike: Ouch ... even Gonterman wasn't THAT egotistical with his Avatar ... > > The air spoke back. "Hold on, dammit. Crow: Oh, damn ... he DID ... Tom: If this guy is God, we're all in DEEP trouble ... >It's gotta load first. Goddamn 286..." Tom: Don't you just love how the author inserts snappy commentary about his computer in the middle of the story? > > Something appeared on the horizon. Crow: (ominous) They were about to enter ... the Goofy Zone. >Rows and rows of guns. Tom: Millions and millions of bright, shiny instruments of death! >The rows got longer and longer until they ground to a halt Mike: Hey, sounds like the plot of 90% of the fanfics we get up here. Crow: Only 90%? Mike: The other 10% had no plot to begin with. >around the spot where Rich and Doug were standing. Crow: M-16s while you wait. > > "That's more like it." Doug said, selecting a pair of >9-millimeters. Tom: (Doug) Don't make me pull out my .9 and buss a cap in yo ass, beyaatch! >He searched the rack for his secret weapons. Mike: (ominous) His mighty Flo-Bee. >Bingo. Tom: B-12. Crow: ... Tom: C-10. Crow: Bi ... no, no, not yet. Tom: A-9. Crow: BINGO! >A pair of clips sat in a small, open case. Mike: They were the Holy Bullets of Antioch(tm). >They were black, Tom: African-American ... >with the image of a dragon embossed on either side. Crow: (Doug) My Puff the Magic Dragon bullets! >They glistened with an unknown power. Mike: Plot-Contrivance Power! >The Chow Yun Fat Ammo Clips Of Doom (tm). All: Dun-dun-DUUUUN! >Guaranteed to never run out of ammo, ever. Tom: So THAT'S how they manage it in all those action movies! Really cheesy Plot Contrivances! >He loaded a clip into each gun, then slipped them into a modified >holster on his belt. Mike: (Doug) Look at me! I'm a gunslinger! Yay! > > Rich was also searching for his special weapons. Crow: (Rich) Let's see ... I know I had that can of E-Z-Cheez somewhere ... >A small brown case alerted him to their presence. Tom: Ah, I see he installed our lights-and-klaxons system to tell him where his guns are. >He opened the case and smiled. Mike: (Rich) Mmmm, muffins. >Two gold-plated Desert Eagles sitting side-by-side. Crow: Castor Troy, we hardly knew ye ... >He removed both from their prison All: *bored* Attica ... Attica ... Attica ... >and held them at his side. Tom: (Rich) You feelin' lucky ... punk? > > Suddenly, Doug's and Rich's outfits changed. Crow: They now wore dresses that only came up to the knee! Oh, the horror! Tom: (Doug) And they're PLAID! >They now both wore long, black trenchcoats and sported dark sunglasses. Crow: Well, I'm glad the Trenchcoat Mafia decided to make an appearance ... Mike: Now hold on a minute, Crow. I'm sure this was written a while before that stuff went down. That's one thing we can't blame on him. Crow: I know, I know ... > > "We're ready." Doug said. Tom: (John Davis) ARE YOU READY?!?!? > > The scenery changed Bots: SCENE CHANGE!!! Mike: Huh? Tom: Before your time. >to a suburban neighborhood. Both hunters stood out like a sore thumb Crow: There were quickly surrounded by a dozen cops with shotguns and carted off to jail. The end. >in this setting. Tom: Or any setting, really ... > > "Hey, Pink. Where the hell are we?" Rich asked. Crow: (Canuck) Eh, you hoser, how the hell am I supposed to know, eh? Mike: Crow, Bret Hart doens't talk like that ... Crow: Yes, he does. He just carries a Canuck-to-English translator when he goes on the mic, much like Lord Thinker. Mike: Ooooh ... HUH?!? > > "Well, you're supposed to be in Tokyo." Mike: (Mr. Pink) You should be seeing a gigantic radioactive lizard stomping by in a few minutes ... just try to ignore it. It'll go away by itself ... > > "Tokyo?! Tom: That's what the Author Avatar said. >Did the Cleaver's take over Tokyo when we weren't looking?" Crow: Now that WOULD be horrific ... Tom: Hey, just be glad it wasn't Beaver Cleavage that took over ... (All imagine a Tokyo ruled by Headbanger Mosh, and shudder) >Doug yelled, upsetting a strangely American suburban family. Mike: (Man) Gad, you uncouth ruffian. Tom: The Olsen Twins then pulled out a pair of .9s and busted a cap in they asses. Crow: Word to yo motha. > > "Don't ask me. Ask whoever wrote this fic." Crow: But since Oscar has disappeared from the Internet, that might be sorta difficult ... > > "Damn, I just had flashbacks of 'Suburban Commando'." Doug said. All: HOGAN!!! NOOOO!!!! > > "Mention that movie again and I will kill you." Rich snarled. All: HEAR, HEAR! Mike: But I thought Doug was supposed to be the bad-ass here? Tom: Who gives a damn? Just as long as one of 'em dies, I'm happy! > > "Geez, sorry. Crow: You should be. How dare you invoke the unholy name of the Great Bald Bollea?!? >So, whereabouts is this sicko?" Tom: Which one? There's Oscar, the Youma of the Day, the Full Moon Fiend ... Mike: Tokyo; Fanfiction's LA. > > "You should be right in front of his house." Mr Pink replied. Crow: (Doug) Cool! Sleep-over! > > Doug looked around and noticed that it was the right house indeed. Tom: (Doug) Duuuuuh ... oh yeah. Mike: The Avatar's intelligence is impeccable ... > Maybe it was the decor, Crow: Yeah, the "Oscar Loves Artemis" signs scattered everywhere kinda gave it away ... >maybe it was the pink flamingos in the lawn, Tom: DO NOT MOCK THE GREAT PINK FLAMINGO, INFIDEL! >maybe it was the white cat walking out the door... Crow: Oddly enough, it was Luna. Oscar had just died her white ... Mike: CROW! > > "I'll go first." Doug said while making his move toward the door. > "How hard can it be to ice a 13-year-old?" All: Our hero. Crow: Yes, what a bad-ass. Using the equivilant of an Infinite Ammo code to kill someone who's barely a teenager. What a man. Tom: I never thought I would be *rooting* for Oscar ... but this guy makes me wonder. Mike: When Anti-Fics Go Bad II: The Decency Patrol. > > Doug opened the door as quietly as he could, one 9-millimeter >drawn. Tom: (Doug) Hermaphrodiiiite ... come out and pla-ayyy ... >He took a quick look around and determined that it was safe. Crow: (Doug) Let's see ... couch, N64, pissed-off looking guy with yellow hair ... yup, it's safe. >He eased the door shut and started moving silently through the house. Mike: *imitating Doug moving silently* Clunk. Crash. Crinkle. Stomp. >________________________________________________ Tom: *singing* Lines, lines, everywhere a line ... > > Mr. Pink had finished 'Artemis' Lover' All: ?!? Crow: You mean it was THIS guy that wrote Artemis' Lover?!? Tom: Looks like we've found out who Oscar really is after all this time ... >and was moving on to the next Oscar-fic 'Black Day'. Crow: Ah, I remember that one ... poor, poor Mike. Mike: Wha ... all I remember about that one is that the roof was leaking ... Tom: Just as well. It's not the kind of thing you want to remember. >He winced at the Serena/Luna section. Crow: Screw that ... what about where Oscar dies and then is randomly resurrected? Tom: I think he's coming to that part, Crow ... no pun intended ... > > "Oh yes. He's gonna get hurt." Mike: Y'know, if this wasn't an anti-fic, I'd kinda doubt that ... much as I dislike Oscar, a Super-Saiyan isn't exactly a pushover ... >Mr. Pink said to himself and anyone who listened in. Crow: (Mr. Pink) They're all out to get me! It's a conspiracy! >________________________________________________ Tom: This is getting worse than that "Scene Change" crap with Shakari ... Mike: Who? Crow: Again, before your time ... > > Doug heard something. Crow: (Doug) It sounds ... almost like a crappy anti-fic! >Quiet, but distinct. Mike: Stupid, but annoying. Tom: Creamy, but fat-free. Crow: Stuffing, but potatoes. >Typing. Crow: And yet another scene from Parasite Eve is shamelessly ripped off. >The sound of keys being punched rapidly. Tom: A peek into the minds behind Surge's official web site. Mike: You *do* realise that you're not getting any money by plugging soft drinks, don't you? Tom: Not yet, anyway ... >Bingo. He peered into the room. Crow: I never thought of Doug as being a voyeur ... >Sure enough, there was a 13-year-old boy typing something on a computer. Mike: (Oscar) Dear Penthouse Forum. I am a 13-year-old hermaphrodite Super-Saiyan living in Tokyo, Japan ... >Doug walked into the room, Tom: (Val Venis) Heellllllooo, Ooooscarr! >expecting nothing and everything at the same time. Crow: The resulting pardox promptly caused his head to explode. The end. >________________________________________________ Tom: I swear, the next time I see one of these stupid lines, I am going to scream ... > > Mr. Pink had almost finished reading 'Black Day' Crow: African-American Day ... >when he read something that chilled him to the bone. Tom: (Mr. Pink) How in the hell can a cat operate a dildo?!? Mike: AIIIIIGHHH!!! *ducks under the seat* Crow: Oh, nice job, Tom ... you gave him a flashback. Tom: Well, excuse me ... > > "Fuck me!" he said. Tom: He must be desperate if he's asking people online that ... Mike: *peaks up* Bad beastiality scene over? Crow: Yeah, it's OK, Mike. "Black Day" is long gone. Mike: Ah. Good. *sits back up* >________________________________________________ Mike & Crow: Oh, damn ... Tom: ARRRRGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! *pause* Sorry, had to do it. Mike: *pulling his fingers out of his ears* Oh, no problem ... Crow: WHAT?!? > > Rich heard Mr. Pink's outburst. Crow: (Rich) No thank you, Mr. Pink ... I don't swing that way. > > "What's wrong?" he asked. Mike: (Mr. Pink) I just realized that this anti-fic is ultimately shallow, banal, and utterly pointless ... ah, what the hell. Go get 'em! > > "Quick!" Mr. Pink said, frantic. Tom: He's in a panic! He's frantic! He's manic! >"Get in there and help Doug! Crow: (Mr. Pink) That movie of his is killing him! >Oscar's a fucking Saiya-Jin!" Mike: Yeah, that'll really put a hinder in his "slaughter-the-defenseless- 13-year-old" plan ... > > "Saiya-Jin?! Tom: (Mr. Pink) That's what I just said ... >Holy shit!" Crow: Oh, it's shit, alright ... Mike: Crow, language? Crow: Why should I bother? He sure isn't ... Mike: We don't stoop to his level, remember? Crow: I know, I know ... but it's just so hard sometimes ... Mike: I know, little buddy. Say, I tell you what. Once this fic's over with, I'll give you a nice tasty Iridium RAM Chip. Crow: YAAYYY!!! Tom: Hey, what about me? Mike: Ah, why not. You guys have both earned it. Bots: WHOO-HOO! >Rich exclaimed as he ran toward the house. Tom: (Rich) I left the stove on! >________________________________________________ Crow: Looks like we know what Element of Design is Mr. Pink's favorite ... > > Doug steadied his gun at the back of Oscar's head, Tom: (Doug) Steady ... steady ... damn, I shouldn't have had that coffee ... >unaware of the exchange taking place between Mr. Pink and Rich. Mike: If ignorance is bliss, this guy must be the happiest man on Earth. >Before Doug could blink, All: *blink* Tom: HAH! Got ya! >Oscar suddenly turned around and grabbed the gun from Doug's hands. Mike: (Oscar) Get your gunn! Tom: Been listening to Manson much, Nelson? Mike: Uhm ... Tom: (Johnny 5) Pistol. Semi-automatic. Play-Doh. >With a quick movement, Oscar punched Doug, knocking him to the >wall. All: YAAAAYYY!!! Tom: Knocking him 'to' the wall? Mike: TOOOOG! >As Doug shook his head Crow: (Doug) I refuse to acknowledge this! I'm the Avatar, dammit! >and tried to figure out just what the hell had happened, Tom: You got punched by a Super-Saiyan, dumbass. What do you think happened? >Oscar flared gold for a few seconds. Tom: (Jim Ross) Buisness is about to pick up! >When the light faded, Crow: *deep* Go into the ... oh, never mind. Mike: The light's fading? My God ... All: IT'S KANE! >Oscar was surrounded by a golden aura, Tom: Why do I have the sudden urge to sing "halleluja"? Mike: Just ignore it. It'll pass. >his hair in a familiar spiked fashion. Crow: Oscar Martinez. Super-Saiyan, hermaphrodite, and punk rocker. Tom: (Dubbed Vegeta) You won't escape ... MY WRATH!!!! > > Luckily for Doug, Mike: ... he was an Avatar, and as such had the God of Plot Contrivances on his side. >Rich chose that moment to show up. Tom: And promptly got the hell beaten out of him, as well. Crow: Just let him beat the hell out of you! Maybe he'll get tired after awhile! >Rich fired three times at Oscar. Oscar deflected each bullet with his >powers, Mike: Well, duh ... Tom: Bullets against a Super-Saiyan. Yeah, that'll work. >but that gave Rich time to pull Doug out of the room. All: Uhhhh ... no. Crow: Has this guy ever SEEN a bullet fired? They're pretty damned fast ... Tom: For that matter, so are Super-Saiyans ... Mike: Guys, guys ... it's an anti-fic. The laws of physics and characterization do not apply here. Tom: In other words, we should really just relax? Mike: Exactly. >Doug got up on unsteady legs Crow: (Doug) Duuuuhhh ... I like Jello ... >and both of them ran outside. All: (vaguely British) Run away! Run away! >They stopped at the street, Tom: Running over the Backstreet Boys while they were at it. Crow: Eh, no great loss. >all guns drawn and ready for when Oscar walked out the door. Mike: I still question the ability of a 9mm to kill a Super-Saiyan ... > > They would have been better prepared if Crow: ... they didn't both suck ... Mike: Now that's getting just a little too bitter, Crow. Crow: Oh, bite me, it's fun! >Oscar had indeed walked out the door, Tom: Instead, the devious bastard went up the chimney! >but fate, even in cyberspace, had it's quirks. Mike: Especially with this guy writing it. >Oscar chose instead to smash through the roof, floating in the air. Bots: (Doug and Rich) D'OH! Mike: (Dubbed Vegeta) You freaks! That was a darn expensive roof! >Doug and Rich looked at each other, astonished, Tom: (Doug) Duhhhh ... Crow: Y'know, that pause alone should have been enough for Oscar to Kamehameha these abominations back to Hell ... Mike: Crow, you're thinking about it again ... >then started firing at Oscar. Crow: (Doug) Sure, they didn't work the last time, but what the hell! >Many of the bullets went wide off their target, Tom: Ah, looks like Oscar retained a Plot Contrivance Field of his own ... >and the ones that were on target were deflected. Mike: This guy no-sells like Goldberg ... >However, this used up most of Oscar's concentration, Crow: Again, I call no way. Mike: Well, hey, this is still moderately more believable than "The Death of Oni" ... >so Rich and Doug had time to start running. All: (vaguely British, again) Run away! Run away! > > Oscar, pissed at the fact that someone had tried to kill him, Mike: Well, that *is* a pretty normal reaction to being shot at ... >fired a quick energy burst that knocked Doug off of his feet. Tom: The power to destroy planets, and he just "knocked Doug off his feet"?!? Mike: Tom, now YOU'RE thinking about the fic ... >Taking advantage of the situation, Oscar landed right in front of Doug. Crow: (Oscar) Hello, I'm Oscar, I'll be your Super Saiyan this evening ... >He picked Doug up by his neck and starting strangling him. Mike: You have the power to destroy moons with a single blast, and you decide to *strangle* him instead? >Doug didn't squirm, but he appeared to be concentrating. Tom: In other words, he no-sold. Crow: (Doug) BILL GOLDBERG POWER ... MAKE-UP! >A roaring sound filled Oscar's ears as Doug's eyes snapped open. Mike: OK, time for the God-boying to begin ... > > Suddenly, Doug let loose with a Tom: ... fart that blew Oscar all the way across Tokyo! Mike: Tom ... >series of punches so fast that Vegita would be put to shame. Crow: Which leads to the immortal question; is it Vegita, or Vegeta? Tom: And what about stuffing, or potatoes? Mike: AND WHAT ABOUT SCARECROW'S BRAIN?!? >Oscar, surprised, dropped Doug. Tom: Yeah, I usually drop my Doug when I'm surprised, too ... >Doug landed on his feet and continued the assault. Mike: Ah, I see Doug's been training with Sam Jones ... >A flurry of punches delivered to Oscar's gut Crow: (Doug) You WILL lose up to 30 pounds with the Ultra Slim-Fast Plan! >was followed by a powerful open-palmed strike Tom: The mighty Bitch-Slap Of Doom! >that knocked Oscar back twenty feet. > > Rich looked over at the battle and decided not to interfere. Mike: (Rich) Eh, he'll be alright. He is the friggin' Author's Avatar, after all. >He had seen these kind of things before, Tom: Hermaphrodites? Super-Saiyans? Shameless Avatars? >and woe to anyone who got caught in the middle of a battle like this. Mike: And woe to us for having to read it ... > > Oscar stood up, obviously impressed. Crow: *sighs* And the Aura of Smooth kicks in ... >He rushed Doug again and went on the offensive. Tom: OK, I'm predicting that Oscar beats the crap out of God-boy here, until the Dick there finally gets up the balls to do something and shoots him. Mike: That sounds about right ... >Doug tried to block every thrown punch, but Crow: ... he was a little girly-man, and failed. >a couple got through. Tom: Because they were just so gosh-darn cute together ... Mike: Not that type of couple, Tom. > > Those couple were enough. Crow: From a Super-Saiyan? Yes, I should say so. > > Doug flew back about fifteen feet, Tom: Notice, if you would, that Doug's punch was exactly five feet stronger than a *SUPER-SAIYAN* ... >gagging and spitting up blood. Crow: (Oscar) I told him he shouldn't have tried to deep-throat ... Mike: CROW! > Oscar held his hands around his waist and started chanting. Tom: (Oscar) Kumbaya, m'lord, kumbaya ... Crow: (Same) Mecca-Lecca-Hi-Mecca-Hiney-Ho! Mike: (Ditto) Inna gotta da vita, BAY-BEE ... > > "KAME..." Mike: *singing* Kame, as you are, as you were ... > > Doug stood up. Crow: (Doug) Must ... no ... sell ... ultimate ... attack ... > > "...HAME..." Tom: ... ha! Just kill 'im already! > > Doug realized what was about to happen. Mike: He was about to get atomized by a really big fireball, that's what ... > > "...HA!" Crow: (Oscar) Sorry, I just thought of this thing I saw on Jerry Springer the other day ... oh, it cracks me up! > > Oscar thrust his palms forward, Tom: (Oscar) Gimme five! >unleashing a devestating blast of energy. Mike: ... as that Triple Burrito he had for dinner backed up on him ... >Doug fell backwards Tom: ... as the skin and then the flesh was painfully and brutally ripped from his bones, leaving only a smoking, charred skeleton where an Author Avatar once stood ... >to avoid the oncoming blast. Tom: Or not ... Crow: He's going to avoid one of the most powerful attacks in the entire multiverse by DUCKING?!? Mike: Hey, that Flair Flop is hella powerful ... >The blast drew ever closer, moving as fast as a bullet. Crow: Actually, if you believe that energy moves as fast as light, and the Kamehameha is, in fact, pure energy, then it should be moving quite a bit faster than a bullet ... and a helluva lot faster than God-boy here ... >It passed over Doug's head as he hit the ground. All: *sarcastically* RIIIIIGHT. Crow: Uh-huh. Tom: SURE it did, compadre. Mike: Guest appearance by Taruchi, the Faster-Than-Light God. >The blast smashed into an office building, Tom: Looks like this building just didn't 'get it'. Crow: Now that was a blast with some ATTITUDE ... Mike: Guys, enough with the shameless plugs ... Bots: Bite me, it's fun! >obliterating the bottom three floors. Tom: Fortunately, that was just where the immigrant workers lived, so there was no great lost to the evil corporate empire of Kathy Lee Gifford. >The rest of the building toppled over due to the lack of support. Crow: (sadly) If only it'd used the Wonderbra ... > > Oscar stared at Doug, astonished. Tom: Y'know, I've noticed that the victims of anti-fics are almost always completely flabbergasted when they get killed ... Crow: That's because the anti-fic writer violates the Plot Contrivance Field that allows the 'good' guys to win every time, and that confuses the hell outta them. >'How did he avoid a KAMEHAMEHA?' Mike: I'm guessing spackle. Lots and lots of spackle. >he thought Tom: Oscar thinking? That IS OOC ... Crow: About as OOC as Usagi doing the same ... Tom: Rescue Ranger-loving plebian! Crow: Airhead-worshipping Moonie! Tom: Why you ... Crow: I oughta ... Mike: STOP, you two! The anti-fic's violence is spreading to your cerebral nets! Tom: My God, Mike, you're right ... Crow: We must resist their will! RESIST! Mike: Just stay frosty ... >before realizing too late that he Mike: ... was in an anti-fic, and no amount of logic or power was going to save his ass ... >should start paying attention to the other one. Mike: Like I said ... > > The bullet passed through Oscar's head Tom: (Conspiratorial) As you can see, the bullet that entered Oscar's head clearly came not from BEHIND, from the Book Depository Building ... but from the FRONT, in the direction of the Grassy Knoll. Crow: Been watching the Zepruder Film much, Tommy-Boy? >before the sound reached him, taking brain matter Mike: (Zombie-like) Brains ... Tom: What brain? >and bone with it as it exited. Crow: Huh-huh, he said 'bone' ... >He fell to the ground, already dead. Tom: (Ken) You're already dead ... Crow: WA-TAK! >Rich continued firing wildly, Mike: ... sending bullets ricocheting wildly, unfortunately causing the slugs to slam into his and Doug's body at fatal speeds, pulverizing their internal organs and killing them in seconds ... Tom: Jeez, my darkness is rubbing off ... >tearing apart Oscar's chest and face. Crow: No big loss ... Tom: You do, of course, realise that now the Oscar-ized versions of Felicia, the Sailor Scouts, the Looney Toons, and Chris Benoit are going to come after these guys and put them in a hurt locker, right? Mike: *smiling* Yup ... Crow: Oscar's dead, the annoying Avatars are dead ... all is right with the world. >He finally stopped after he realized that his guns had both been clicking >on empty for almost ten seconds. Tom: Doesn't that, like, hurt the guns, though? Crow: Tom, the average fanboy knows this much about guns; they fire, you fall down, you go boom. The end. >He calmly assessed the ravaged body Mike: "Ravaged"? You mean he raped Oscar too? Tom: Shut up, Mike ... you're uncovering memories best left buried ... >of the once Saiya-Jin in front of him. Crow: Actually, Oscar's state of death wouldn't change the "fact" of his Saiyan heritage ... >Then he just as calmly reloaded both guns and started firing all >over again. Tom: (Kuno) SPAWN OF SAIYANS! I SHALL SMITE THEE! Crow: Jeez ... psychotic much, Richie? >Doug grabbed Richard's arm Crow: And promptly got his head shot off for his trouble. >before he could start over for a third time. Mike: Third time's a charm ... Tom: Yeah, maybe this time the gun'll blow up in his hand ... > > "Rich, you're wasting ammo." Crow: So? We're wasting precious minutes of our life that we can never reclaim by being in here, when we could be watching watching the astral sunrise, playing in the holocabana, worshipping "Mannequin" ... > > "So, I gotta make sure." Mike: He's a bloody smear on the floor! I'm pretty sure he's DEAD, already ... > > "Trust me, he's dead." Tom: (Zeus) What the hell he gonna tell you, "I'm dead?" > > Both stood for a while, silent. Crow: Mourning the loss of a ... unique hermaphrodite. Mike: Poor Oscar ... he fought valiantly, but the Aura of Smooth won out in the end ... >Not moving. Tom: Then, stuff happened. Crow: People died. Mike: Then they shot them some more ... >Doug broke the silence. Crow: As well as his wind ... Mike: Crow ... > > "You realize we just iced a Saiya-Jin." Tom: Yes, I do. And I think I'll need a couple years of therapy because of it. > > "Really? I hadn't noticed?" Rich retorted. Mike: (Rich) It's not my fault I have absolutely no attention span! > > "Geez, touchy. It's been a while since you've had some, hasn't >it?" Crow: And the Author immediately transposes his own problems onto the Avatars. > > "Shut up." All: PLEASE! > > No way, All: ACK! Mike: He can hear us?!? Tom: We *ARE* doomed ... >Doug was on a roll. Crow: Let's just hope he "rolls" right off a cliff ... >Doug smiled. Mike: Mike frowned. Crow: Crow vomited. Tom: Tom's head exploded. >"The Sailor Scouts are right up the street. Tom: (Doug) And if I'm not mistaken, this should be one of Usagi's "Usual Mornings" ... >We have author avatar powers, Crow: Well, duh! You just killed a friggin' Super-Saiyan with not so much as a scratch! >and I betcha we could score with every single one of them." All: ... Mike: PLEASE, God, don't tell me it's going to turn into a lemon ... Tom: If it does, I swear on all that is holy that I will join Nav's Anti- Lemon Crusade THIS VERY MOMENT! Crow: Come to think of it, that's probably the first thing *I'd* do with Author Avatar powers ... > > "Bullshit." Mike: Use one word to describe this fanfic. > > "C'mon, look at where we are. Tom: It's Dirk Diggler's Pornworld! For all your lemony needs. >We are author avatars in a lemon fanfic setting. Mike: And I am about to explosively vomit ... >Girls are INCREDIBLY easy here. Crow: Man. Moon girls *ARE* easy! >I bet I could score with Lita on my first try." Tom: Either that, or she'd kick your groin so hard it'd ram your penis into your groin and shatter your testicles like glass marbles ... Mike: *clutches his area in pain* Please ... no 'Sailor Moon in America' flashbacks ... > > Rich wasn't buying it. Crow: (Rich) I refuse to accept your Porn Spams! Flee, oh Daemon of E-Mail! >"No way." Tom: Pretty much my opinion on that matter ... > > Doug gave him a 'Try me' look. Crow: While I gave the fic a 'Fu-' Mike: DON'T try it, Crow. > > "You're on!" Tom: On marijuana, most likely. > > "Hey, you two Don Juan wannabes!" Mr. Pink's voice broke in. Mike: (Mr. Pink) How dare you Mary Sues attempt to score? Only the direct self-insertions can do that! >"How's about coming back so we can collect our cash?" Crow: Wouldn't it be easier for Pinko there to just leave them in Oscar-world and keep the money all to himself? Tom: Yes, but that would be logical ... > A pay phone on the corner began to ring. Mike: Avon calling! >Doug and Rich looked at each other and sighed. Tom: (Doug) Oh, we can't ever have nice things ... > > "Next time?" Doug said. Crow: What time? Tom: VADER TIME! > "Yep. Mike: And so, being possessed by the spirit of Hank Hill, Richard did utter, "What the hell?" >But if someone puts a bounty on you for scoring with Lita, don't >think that I won't pass it up." Tom: ... Crow, can you still interface directly with the Internet? Crow: Yeah ... why? Tom: I'll explain later ... >Rich said as he uncradled the receiver. Mike: The hand that rocks the cradle, writes the anti-fic ... >He disappeared in a flash of light. Doug followed suit. Crow: That's nice ... but who is this "suit" fellow? > > THE END >________________________________________________ All: WHOO-HOO! Crow: It's finally over! Mike: Let's go, boys. (Mike picks up Tom and walks to the right, but ...) Crow: What ... the doors are locked! Mike: That *is* odd ... > > Yep, that's all. All: DAMN! Tom: Oh, joy, closing notes. All: *resume their seats* >My first fanfic. Crow: And, God willing, the last ... >Short and sweet. Tom: I'll give him the first part ... but it was ANYTHING but sweet ... Mike: Oh, it was very sweet ... in the same way that a rotting corpse festering with maggots is sweet ... Tom: Now who's the dark one? >Didn't expect that quick ending, didja? Crow: Actually ... yup. Tom: I think most one-celled organisms saw the ending coming, buddy ... > > This is a self-insertion fic? Mike: Well, yeah ... I'd think you would know ... Crow: How would we know? You wrote the damn thing! >How you guess? Tom: Maybe because you admitted as much IN THE OPENING NOTES?!? > > Okay, I'll be straight with you. Crow: THAT'LL be the day ... >This is not the best fanfic in the world. Mike: *gasp* NO! Surely you jest! >Hell, it's not even within spitting distance. Tom: You got THAT one right ... >It's not the worst, either. Crow: Ooop, wrong. And you were on such a roll ... Mike: Well, I don't know ... 'Pfil's Spider Troubles' was REALLY bad ... Tom: And you can't forget 'Agon-' Others: DON'T SAY IT! Mike: Do you REALLY want Dr. Forrester to get hold of THAT?!? Dr. F: (over loudspeaker) Hold of what? Tom: Good point. *to Dr. Forrester* Oh, nothing ... Dr. F: A likely story ... *clicks off* Crow: Good one, Gumball Brain ... Tom: Hey, who tried to dig his way through the Satellite, Golden Boy? Crow: That hasn't even happened yet, ya big mook! Tom: Why I oughta ... Mike: Guys, GUYS! Chill. It's almost over. Crow: Yeah. Sorry, Tom. Tom: Yeah, same here. >Nope, that distinction belongs to ASADAE Crow: Yeah, that was a nasty lil' puppy ... Tom: We've seen a lot worse, though. Mike: Yeah. ASADAE's a cakewalk compared to some of the horrors we've seen ... >(in my opinion, at least.) Mike: Be it ever so humble ... Tom: Yeah, he's humble in much the same fashion as the Ultimate Warrior has a firm grasp on reality ... > > I intentionally made this rather not good. Tom: It worked. BOY, did it ... >I didn't try my worst, Crow: Could've fooled me ... >then it would be totally unreadable. Mike: Too late ... >Nor did I try my best. Tom: Well, at least we can give him that ... >I just want to make the characters introduced in this fic Crow: (Mr. Pink)... really, really crappy. Apparently, I've succeeded beyond my wildest dreams ... >well known enough to make them a part of the AAA. Mike: Blatantly IGNORING the fact that the Powers That Be have specifically specified that they don't want characters from fics that are nothing but pitiful attempts to get into the AAA ... >(Damn right, I'm self-serving) Tom: And pretentious, annoying, a guy so desperate to get into an e-fed he spams the board with his lame-ass characters ... need I go on? >Watch for them in the AAA house show "Christmas Slay" Crow: And Christmas was, what? 5 months ago? Tom: Maybe he's talking about Christmas '99 ... some people take quite a while to get their booking done. >where they'll make their debut! Mike: I'll be holding the minutes and counting my breath. > > Any questions about the skills displayed by Doug? Tom: It's the Aura of Smooth, stupid. Can ya dig it? >Go see "The Matrix", a truly kick-ass movie. Crow: (Mr. Pink) Why? Because I'm too lazy to describe them myself! > > The next Decency Patrol Tom: You mean there's MORE?!? All: AIIIEEEE!!! >will be much more in depth and explanitory. Crow: And equally lame, most likely. Mike: This is just like 1984 ... a iron boot smashing into a human face for eternity ... > > Oscar belongs to someone. I pray for their soul. Crow: As we pray for our own ... Tom: Speak for yourselves ... Discordians don't pray. It's rude to assume on our relationship with the Goddess Eris. > > Doug Troy belongs to me Mike: And you're welcome to him, trust me. >and is a self-insertion character. You can figure out where I got the Tom: This is eerily familiar ... Crow: Copy and Paste. The last resort of a really lazy author ... >first name easily. Last name? Did I mention that I'm a huge fan of John >Woo movies... Mike: And I'm sure he's honored to have you in his fan base. Now can we we ... > Mr. Pink also belongs to me. Mike: Guess not. Tom: (Mr. Pink) They're mine! Mine! ALL OF THEM! MIIIIIINNNE!!!! Mike: Uh, Tom, I already used that riff ... Tom: Hey, he's recycling copyrights ... so why can't I recycle jokes? >His name is property 1992 Quentin Tarentino. Go see Reservior Dogs for >more details. Crow: (Mr. Pink) Screw exposition, I say ... just tell the audience to rent a bunch of movies and kill some stuff! > > Richard belongs to Jon Rambo. I think I made him OOC, but frankly I >don't care. ^_^ Mike: Bad antifics ... the product of a mind that *just* ... *doesn't* ... *care*. Tom: Ah, the doors are finally open. Crow: Another long, winding road is done ... (ALL Exuent) (.69 ... 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5 ... 6 ... 7) (SOL Bridge. Crow's eyes are rolled up into his head, and a phone line is going into his head. Tom is beside him, a printout held in his hand. Mike is nowhere to be seen) Tom: ... the bounty for these two Avatars are $50 each, plus oral favors from Chris Hyatte. Their crimes are ... *pause* oh, crap, here comes Mike! (Crow's eyes roll back down into normal position as Mike enters, stage left) Mike: Oh, hi guys. What's up? Tom: Oh, nothing. Crow: Yeah, we're not posting up bounties for crappy Avatars or anyth- Tom: CROW! Crow: Ooops ... Mike: Crow, what have I told you about using the Internet for good and not evil? Crow: I know, Mike ... it's just ... Tom: It was just so TEMPTING, Mike! The opportunity to be rid of those two forever ... Mike: I know, guys. But, we mustn't sink to their level. We must keep our heads up high ... keep our eyes on the prize ... and never, never give up ... (As Mike speaks, a rousing chorus of classical music strikes up) Tom: Wow, Mike, you're right. Crow: Yeah. I'm really sorry I used your credit card to buy that AdultCheck account now ... (Suddenly, the music collapses in on itself) Mike: You did WHAT?!? Crow: Uh ... uh ... oh, the Mads are calling! Heh ... Mike: We're going to have a little talk, young man ... *taps the light* (D-13. Frank is finally standing at the door to leave the complex, his baggage to either side. Dr. Forrester is standing behind him, and to the Mad Doctor's right, twitching periodically, is a Rei clone) Dr. F: I'm really sorry to see you go, Frank, but it was just time for it to end ... Frank: *bravely* I know that now, Steve. Thanks for all the great years togeth ... what's wrong with Rei? (Suddenly, Rei's eyes roll up into her head, and the twitches turn into horrific shudders. Green gook abruptly starts coming out of her mouth) Dr. F: Oh, no ... it's the genetic structure! I must've not made it strong enough! My clones are melting down into ... (Before Dr. Forrester can finish his sentance, the Rei clone explodes, coating the Doctor, Frank, and baggage with green goo) Dr. F: Oh ... damn. Frank, you're re-hired. Now clean this mess up. Frank: *joyfully, and jumping up and down* Oh, thank you Dr. Forrester! Thank you, thank you, thank ... Dr. F: Just shut up and do it, Frank! Oh, and push the button while you're at it. Frank: Sure, your gookiness. *slips and slides his way over to the Button, upon which he promptly falls head-first* (FWOOSH!) Through the credits, many squelching sounds can be heard, as the Mads attempt to work their way through the Rei remains ... THE ANARKIST'S NOTES: My first anti-fic MSTing is officially done! Many thanks to Lynxara for allowing me to rip into some non-lemon material for a change, especially in an area that I have, admittedly, been known to dabble in, on occasion. Again, no offense to Mr. Pink, despite the many, many cheap shots I took at him and his S-I characters. Hey, all's fair in War and MiSTings, dude. DEDICATIONS: To Lynxara, again, for finding me this little nugget; to Jennifer, the love of my life; and to all my friends at the Chat Hall. I might not come by as often nowadays, but I carry you guys in my heart even when I am absent. Peace out! MSA3K EPISODE GUIDE -------------------- #101-Lady Death: The Summoning #102-Warrior Sisters #103-Warrior Sisters 2: The Flesh Is Weak #104-Pfil's Spider Troubles #105-Decency Patrol #1 OTHER PROJECTS -------------------- Mystery Wrestling Theater 3000(w/ Malissa Thomas) #-101 Religious Spam #-102 Urusei X; The Yatsura Files Part I Group MSTings Sailor Moon VS Tickle-Me Elmo(w/ John Hurst) The Fist KILLS Everyone(w/ Akodo X) >He looked around for his shoes, but they were all the way over by the >closet, and the only thing keeping Doug from walking over there and putting >them on was the ten feet of arctic temperature floor that seperated them.