From: "Juliet A. Youngren" To: "Tim McLees" Subject: The GateMaster, Part 5 Date: Friday, November 30, 2001 12:26 AM THE GATEMASTER, Part 5 By Michael Wolfe MiSTed by (in alphabetical order): Melvin Pollack, Valeria, Jim Whaley, and Juliet Youngren Host Segments by Melvin Pollack Riffs Edited by Juliet Youngren [CONTINUED from Part 4.] [SOAR. Crow beams in, holding the belt over his head.] Crow: We are the champions! We are the champions! No time for losers, cause we GOT FANFIC SIGN! [6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...] [They sit down. Mike passes out cardboard squares to the Bots.] Tom: What are these? Mike: Author Avatar Bingo cards. I thought we might as well get 'em out now that our avatar has shown up. Each time the avatar shows a new skill, you mark if off if it's on your card. The first one to fill a row is the winner. Crow: I see "supreme intelligence" is the free square in the middle.... Mike: Right! I have "cool nickname" on my card too. [He makes a mark on the card.] Crow: I've got "scientific genius." [He marks his card.] Tom: Ooh! And I have "photographic memory." [He marks his card.] > POOR EXCUSE FOR A HOME Tom: Well, then tell your browser to point elsewhere. > Earth - Grand Rapids, Michigan Mike: This is the city.... > MacTeague Country House Residence Crow: That sounds like a great Bed and Breakfast name. > October 1, 1998 AD - Thurs. 7:18 PM Tom: Synchronize your watches. > > With a hiss of exhaust, the commuter bus pulled to a stop at the > terminal. Mike: [Bus] Wheels on the Bus my ass.... > > "End of the line," the driver called. "Grand Rapids, West > District." Crow: [Lisa Simpson] My God! I'm lost! Tom: [Driver] Don't make me tap the sign, lady! > > Skye grabbed his bag Tom: His failure to grab the correct bag set him on an adventure as drug dealers, FBI agents, and two pizza delivery men began chasing him. > and joined the crowd of tired, daily > commuters filing off the bus. Mike: [Wolfe] Hey! Anyone wanna hear my views on multiple dimensions? Bots: [Crowd] Not again. [Grumble.] > Home was just a fifteen minute walk > from the station and he still had a good half-hour of sunlight left. Mike: But I bet the sun moves really fast so he has to walk home in the dark, when something mysterious happens that no one believes. Crow: Yep. > > The motorcycle belonging to his step-father, Rick MacTeague, Tom: Oh, he's Irish and has a motorcycle. He's probably a drunk with a hot temper. Mike: TOM!!! Tom: That's my fault? > was > leaning against the front steps. Mike: I suppose the bike is drunk, too. Tom: Now that you mention it.... > Skye stepped over it. Crow: Good boy. You get a biscuit. Mike: Tom. Not every Irishman is a drunk with a hot temper. And bikers have all sorts of dispositions. > This sign > usually indicated that Rick had just gotten home from the bar. The > next morning, as always, Rick would come out yelling and swearing at > whoever had put his bike there, having forgotten that he had. Tom: You were saying? Mike: My God.... Tom: I accept your apology. > > Skye walked into the small, musty living room as the TV Mike: Camouflauge is everything. > was > singing the praises of the McCloud Cleaner company. Crow: Immortals will do anything for financial solvency. > Skye was half- > tempted to agree that a little cleanliness was exactly what this > dilapidated country-house needed. Tom: The latest in interactive television. Crow: [Lady on TV] This house looks horrible. Darian Wolfe, you need to clean it. And stop changing the topic in your speeches. > Rick's wife, Darla, had left Rick > in the summer of '95. Mike: We'll return to non-sequitur theater after these messages. > Although Rick himself had stayed pretty much > the same, the house itself had gone to pot. Crow: I feel empathy. This guy's father is drunk, and the house is on drugs. > > Rick was in what Skye sometimes called the drunk's 'playful > mood.' Tom: He wants to argue about inconsequential subjects? Mike: He wants to sing songs off-key? Crow: Naah. He just wants to curl up with a ball of string. > He was going to be hurt -and there was nothing he could do > about it. Mike: Rick was gonna drive drunk, or fall down an elevator shaft. Tom: But Rick was a great believer in predestination. "What will be will be" was his motto. Crow: Actually, the Cliche Guidebook says that Skye has to be the one abused. We must have had a pronoun change. > He had to go through that door on the other side of the > living room Crow: Or all the hostages would be killed. > to get to his home. Tom: Didn't he say he was already home? Crow: Maybe the next jumpgate opens in that room. > The big problem was that Rick's easy > chair stood between him and his goal. Mike: And Skye was incapable of walking AROUND the chair. > > Skye crept to the side of the chair. Crow: Drunk-tipping was a fast-growing fad.... > The smell of beer was on > Rick's clothes. Tom: I use Bud Light because it gets out the most stains. Crow: I like it cause it's got color guard. Tom: Most stains! Crow: Color Guard! > He was snoring but he was doing it a bit louder than > usual. Tom: Animals stampeded from miles away as a result. Mike: Hmm ... so Rick's "playful mood" is when he's asleep? > Skye took a cautious step. Rick stuck out his foot in a lame > attempt to trip him up. Crow: Lame attempt? It's official: Darian's a teenager. > He was faking. Mike: Ohhhhhh, I get it now .... > Skye stepped over it. Tom: Unconnected pronouns make every scene exciting. Readers will spend months in awe of HOW LOST THEY WERE! > > "What a loser." Mike: It's time for another exciting game of "Guess Who's Talking." Crow: Our first question: Was that line spoken by the drunken bum despite the fact that the comment was out of place? Or was it the kid, who disproves fear avoidance and Stockholm syndrome? Tom: The answer is...God! Miraculously, the line was added as a message that the author should get a life. > > Rick silently got out of the chair, planted a hand on Skye's > back, Mike: [Rick] How 'bout them Yankees, huh? > and pushed. When Skye didn't stumble, Rick put his hand around > the back of Skye's neck and pushed him into the wall. Crow: Such emotion! Such dramatization! It's a testament of empathy worthy of Ben Stein. > > Hateful thoughts came to mind, Tom: Please tell me this guy develops Firestarter powers or something. > but through an act of sheer > willpower he suppressed the impulse and the anger. Mike: Well, if the impulse isn't anger, then what is it? Crow: A theoretical function where it's zero everywhere except for an infinite value at x=0. Tom: Abused children typically took steps to crush new math. > To Skye, violence > was only morally acceptable when his or someone else's life was > threatened. Mike: Or when he got cut off in traffic. Tom: Or when somebody looked at him kind of funny. Crow: Or when he was feeling so mean, he'd shoot a man just for snorin'. Tom: [glancing at his card] Aha, "upholder of noble ideals." [He makes a mark.] > Skye wasn't really hurt. Tom: He was born that way. Mike: Actually, that.... Tom: I hope he was hurt. Darian Wolfe, I hope you really were in pain! > He ran his finger across his > lip. Mike: Tom! That's enough! Tom: No, that's not close to enough! After all this supposed building of his autobiography, he has the audacity to show us this...this chapstick commercial? > There was no blood. It would probably swell though, he thought > dull-ly. Crow: I'm guessing all Skye's thoughts are dull. Tom: He's writing this as a transparent attempt to build sympathy for his character! And then he writes it as if he were discussing the weather! It's a trivialization of a terrible problem! Mike: TOM! Stay with me! MW: [O.S.] Dear Tom: Bite me, gumball man! > Rick just sank back into his easy chair, laughing quietly > at the fun he'd just had. Tom: It's a demeaning act! A swipe against humanity and justice! Darian Wolfe, you go to Hell! You hear me?!? You go to.... [Suddenly, Tom lets out a high-pitched wail and short circuits a la R2D2 in "Return of the Jedi."] Mike: TOM!!!!!!! Crow: Oh, Tom. Why did you have to be so brave? [Tom lets out an Artoo moan and sparks again.] > > Rick hardly ever gave him a lasting injury. Crow: He was more interested in crushing the laughing man-child's spirit. Mike: Tom? Speak to me little buddy. Are you all right? Tom: 'Course I'm all right. Ranting about minor slights and short- circuiting is a GREAT stress reliever. Crow: Yeah, Mike. You should try it sometime. > Rick just barely > managed the wits to know that breaks and black eyes made social > workers suspicious. Crow: Nice of the social workers to publish a list of things to avoid doing. > Besides, Skye wasn't about to lose his > laboratory for another foster home just now. Crow: [Skye] I paid good money for a house and an ogre that beats people up. I'm not buying a new one until profit comes in. Tom: You know, this is a lot like Harry Potter and the Dursleys, except that the thought of the unique and iconoclastic young protagonist being beaten into submission by the forces of mindless conformity makes me incredibly happy. > > Skye lived in the spacious two-car garage behind the country- > house on the outskirts of town Crow: If it's a garage, then why did he come through the house? > because Rick couldn't stand him or > his brain. Mike: I know how he feels. Observer always kind of creeped me out too. > Instead, Rick charged Skye rent. Crow: You see, kids, landlords charge rent because they hate you. > Skye's only source of > income was from his parent's estate, Tom: Wait. A fourteen-year-old inheriting money must do so through a trustee. Why not stay with him or her? Mike: Because NOBODY likes Skye or his "brain." > which meant that Skye was poor. > Skye only just got by with the small payments of his inheritance. All: [singing] It's a hard knock life. One two. It's a hard knock life. Three four. > > Costs mounted up: rent, school fees, clothes, etc. Crow: Internet porn.... Mike: Crow! Tom: Come on, Mike. The guy's a teenager AND an Engineering major. Mike: Good point. > All of these > things were a big drain on his fundage. Mike: And packing it with gauze didn't help dry it out at all. Yeecch. > The only thing that kept > Skye in food were those meager-paying, nerve-wracking, mind-numbing, > self-lobotomizing, lecturing jobs Burt continually pushed on him. Mike: [sob] So sad. He could be working at McDonald's or Sears, but he's forced to take a cushy on-campus job. Oh the horror! > > Skye let the screen door shut behind him. Crow: [Wolfe] Yeah, fine. You can go close if you want. But I'm deeply insulted by it.... > The sun had just > recently set, Crow: [Wolfe] That deeply insults me, too.... Mike: We get it, Crow.... Crow: [Wolfe] We all know that the universe is against me.... Mike: That's enough, Crow.... > casting a bunch of subdued hues across the sky. Tom: Nice to know SOMETHING in this story is actually subdued. > Skye > exhaled loudly, rubbing his swollen jaw. Tom: I thought his *lip* was swollen. Crow: His whole head's swollen, if you ask me. > Dr. Burt Cranston, the Crow: Nintendo > 64 Tom: You peeked! Crow: So did you. > year-old scientist Skye worked for, was his next-door neighbor. He > lived in a red brick house behind his. Mike: Wait...Dr. Cranston lived in a house behind his own house? Tom: Well, he *is* a scientist. Maybe he built himself a pocket Escher dimension. > > Once, Rick wanted to tear down Skye's home/garage and build a new > one for his truck. Crow: [Wolfe] Hey, here's an idea. Why don't you just park your truck in the garage? Tom: [Rick] Because I'm evil. When construction begins, you will be forced to live in my house like a human being. Mwa, ha, ha! Crow: [Wolfe, sobbing] You're so cruel! Just like the social services guys and everybody on campus that doesn't accept my theories of faith and my best friend the old man that gives me a platform and the flowers.... > Skye, out of desperation, Tom: --Called the social services and asked them to visit in a month. Rick would have no choice but to give Darian a room.... Mike: No, you're confusing Darian for someone who's proactive. > persuaded the reluctant > teacher to convince a drunken Rick Mike: --That the bowl of spaghetti was really the brain of a dead guy. > (which was what he usually was > -except on Fridays when he was Crow: --a drunken Loretta! > just wasted) Tom: So, when Rick isn't drunk, it's a waste. Mike: Either that or we just found someone who likes semantics. > that the garage belonged > to the professor -not him. Mike: [Sam Drucker] Well, your house is in Hooverville, but your garage is in Pixley and your yard is in Crabb Apple Grove. Crow: [Lisa Douglas] Oliver, maybe Crabb Apple Grove will give us a greetings basket. > When he did, Rick had erupted in a fit of > swearing. Crow: [Rick] I KNEW that real estate agent was hiding something! > > For a second, Burt thought the burly dock-worker was going to > punch him. Tom: Oh, I get it! A clever pun on the blue-collar worker's punching the time clock. Ha, ha. Darian, get some sleep! > Fortunately, Rick stood up too fast Mike: [blows whistle] False start. Number 34, offense. Five yard penalty, repeat second down. > causing the blood to > rush to his head. Crow: [Rick] Woah, man. I feel groovy. > Skye's 'legal guardian' Tom: In quotes? See, Rick'll turn out to be a baby snatcher, selling kids to couples looking for adoption. > tipped over, dropping > unconscious before he even hit the floor. All: [trumpet noises] Wa, wa, wa, waaaaaaa! Mike: Ha, ha. Drunk people in pain are funny. > Skye just shrugged his > shoulders at Burt. Crow: [Wolfe] What tranquilizer pills? > When Rick finally woke up, he'd forgotten the > whole incident -and his plan to tear down Skye's home. Tom: So their plan to cause Rick's unconsciousness and subsequent amnesia worked perfectly. > > Skye pulled a necklace from behind his shirt. Mike: His real parents have the other half of his heart locket. > From the black cord > hung a metal key. Crow: Must be Shabbat. Tom: Only Orthodox Jews are going to get that, Crow. > Skye inserted the key into the dead-bolt lock > built into the sturdy wooden door of his home. Come to think of it, Tom: [author] --I'd rather talk about something else. Ignore that last sentence. > the garage was in far better shape than the house it belonged to. Mike: [Wolfe] Come back here, Rick! I haven't finished stripping you of all dignity yet. Crow: With an author like this, I'd be drunk 24 hours a day, too. Tom: It does lessen the pain of being a one-dimensional stereotype, I suppose. > Skye was the quintessential neatnik. Crow: Let's see.... Neatnik, no backbone, somewhat paranoid.... My God! Felix Unger is in this fanfic! > > This last summer, Skye had gotten rid of some unopened buckets of > paint that Rick had forgotten by using them to paint the building > sky-blue (his favorite color). Mike: That's nice, honey. Have we wandered into a completely different story with absolutely no warning? Tom: Is Skye a hedgehog spying on Robotnik? Crow: Are we still on a plane in Cuba? > Skye had used the remaining white > paint for the trim. Tom: [checking his card] Interior decorator! I've got that one. Mike: I call foul. This guy has way too much fashion sense for an Engineer. Crow: There's that blue-and-white Jewish thing again too. Tom: You never know--he could be Finnish. Or Greek. Or Scottish. > Later on, Skye had taken on some of the other > little chores and maintenance needed to improve his home. Crow: Using the blowtorch was the most fun. > He had caulked the > windows, installed florescent lighting, put in insulation, Tom: Installed a skylight, built a patio deck, got a hot tub.... > and > fabricated a one-of-a-kind security system. Mike: Because evil spies might break into a country home garage looking for his INCREDIBLE theories.... Crow: All that on his piddling, pathetic, *meager* little salary, huh? Tom: A boy genius with a photographic memory, and also a handyman! NOW how much would you pay? Mike: Handyman, thanks. I've got that one. [Makes a mark on his card.] > This was the reason for > the other key that Skye took from under the welcome mat. Crow: Upon seeing a key in an obvious place, crooks would roll on the floor laughing until they died or were arrested. Sometimes longer. > You see, > the door would open without it, Tom: [Wolfe] And that made the security system kind of useless. I was young then. And stupid. > but without plugging the key into > the hidden slit in the door frame the system would automatically be > set off instantly. Mike: The laser beams only stung a little, but the poison gas was a real threat. > In short, he'd done the best he could with what > he had. Crow: Give it up, author. You spent the last two chapters making this guy a wimpy victim. You can't make him clever and proactive now. > > "I'm home," the teenager spoke to the empty room. Mike: [Skye] What's that, Mr. Table? You missed me? Well, I'm back now! [Tom and Crow shiver.] > > Skye took off his black duster, threw his bag on his cot, and > with renewed spirit targeted the blackboard that faced him from > across the room like a gunfighter at high noon. Mike: Like stepfather, like son. Hey, Skye, you may want to cut back on the booze until you're of legal age. > Now, at last, Skye > was ready to attack the imposing equation and defeat the mystery > that had been mocking him and his ignorance for so long. Crow: Soon, he would kung-fu chop the ignorance within his mind and drop-kick the variables that had eluded him in a high-speed chase along the soul.... > > IT'S ALIVE! Mike: [Frankenstein] ALIVE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Crow: [Igor] Yeeees, master! Tom: Oh, please. > Earth - Grand Rapids, Michigan Tom: Well, that was...interesting. > Skye Wolfe's Workshop > Oct. 01, 1998 AD - Thurs. 7:42 PM Mike: Look. It's unfolding in real time. > > An hour had passed since his earth-shaking revelation. Crow: He invented an earthquake machine? > Skye stood > before the blackboard in the mist of victory. Tom: Rick congratulated him by dousing him in Gatorade. Mike: Maybe he means that we're riffing him because the story was such a success. Crow: That poor, deluded man.... > The hole that had once > been occupied by a taunting question mark was now filled with the > mathematical equivalent of coordinates. Mike: It didn't help him any, but it made him feel better. Tom: Hey, this really is just like Sliders! > > All the pieces of the puzzle came together for the first time > into a final picture. Crow: It was a kitty and a ducky. > The picture struck Skye with awe Mike: And when he stared at a far off point, he could see the Statue of Liberty. > and at the > same time touched the boy with an indistinct sense of fear. Crow: [Wolfe] I'll have to deal with PATENT LAWYERS! > He now > had something that no one else in the whole world did. Tom: Well, except for that crazed blond chick. > Was he > responsible enough to handle it? Crow: Yeah, sure. This guy can't even give a 10-minute speech without deviating from the program. > The moral and ethical implications > swirled around in his head. Tom: [Wolfe] Yeah, I probably should have thought of all this before, but I figured protestors would tell me what to believe first. > > Like a kid that holds his hand over the flame to see how much > pain he can take before flinching, Skye jumped back from the > blackboard. Mike: I think MY lexicon parser just crashed. Crow: Mike, it's simple. He had a lit candle on the floor behind him. > He dropped the piece of chalk, which snapped in two on > the floor. Crow: I'm getting flashbacks to The Matrix. > > He was ready to do it for the first time! Tom: Cursory 10 seconds of thought toward ethical considerations before plunging into the abyss. Mike: First time the author showed understanding of how an engineer actually behaves. Crow: I'm betting the author just couldn't think of any good ethical concerns about a wormhole. > He was about to open > the portal. Mike: To infinity and beyond? > This was a very significant moment; the moment of truth. Crow: One that was ripped off from Sliders. Tom: [Regis Philbin] Is that your FINAL answer? > Either eight years of exhausting and complicated work meant nothing > and had been a waste of his life, time, money, and effort or he was > about to change his world forever. Tom: Which doesn't necessarily mean he didn't waste his life, time, money and effort. But at least he could go to the bathroom without ever leaving his room. > > If he succeeded, his life would have new meaning. He'd have a > purpose. Mike: He'd immediately be sued by the Justice Department for being a monopoly. Crow: Nah, that's only if the portal comes with a browser. Or if he pissed off Scott McNeely. Tom: [muttering] Wintel brown-nosers.... > If he failed, his life would stay the same. Skye knew that > he couldn't live if that happened. Tom: But hang on. According to his theory, *both* these things will happen in different universes, right? > > The teenager traced his finger over the board, Tom: To determine the ethical considerations, Skye consults an Ouija. > reviewing what he > knew so far about the conditions needed to set things in motion. Crow: [as Skye] Like, the thing is that you've got to *move* them. Tom: Wait, wait--I can't keep up with his blazing intellect! > > 1. According to his equations, his creation required a > critical level of power in order to form. Crow: I'm in such awe that he said something scientifically plausible that I'm unable to make the sick joke forming in my mind. Tom: Well, except his creation is the machine, not the portal. Mike: Maybe it's a hologram. > > 2. This energy level was extremely high. Skye calculated that > he had just enough energy to attain that level. Mike: Give or take a bottle of Surge. > > 3. The good side was that after the doorway was given this > nascent jolt it would remain self-perpetuating. All: [Start laughing] Mike: Yet another sucker buys a perpetual motion machine. Crow: Nice of Gaia to suspend the second law of thermodynamics. > It would > power itself. It was like shifting a pebble over the edge > of an abyss. All it needed to keep falling forever was > that first little nudge. Crow: Well, except for that little thing called the ground. Tom: Well, let's reason this out. The object has potential energy, which can be converted to kinetic. If you tapped some power from kinetic to reform potential.... Mike: You'd still run out of energy eventually. But maybe he's writing the sales brochure. > > 4. The wormhole itself was self-reinforcing (e.g. it wouldn't > collapse on him in transit). Tom: Hah. Watch him get stranded in the Delta Quadrant. > Once the doorway was > open, he could control it. Mike: Famous last words. > > Two months ago, he had perfected the device he needed to do it. Crow: Introducing the inflatable doll.... Mike: Crow! Crow: Well, he started it! > Skye walked over to his imitation oak desk. Tom: A moment of silence for all the imitation oaks that died for this story. > Taking a key from his > pocket, he inserted it into the lock on the top drawer and turned it > until it clicked. Tom: And broke in half. Mike: [Wolfe] D'oh! I should have turned the key the other way. Crow: This has been a Woody Allen moment. > The drawer slid open smoothly. Tom: Thanks to his self-built, remote-controlled drawer-oiling machine. > Inside were two > exactly identical devices that loosely resembled hand-contoured VCR > remotes. Crow: The future of space travel depends on remote-control cars. > They were flat, gray, rectangular, and choked with buttons. Mike: Well, if your buttons are choking you, just undo a couple. > The only perceptible difference with these remotes were their large > green LCD screen units. Mike: So it DOES have internet capability. Someone get Janet Reno on the line. Crow: It's no longer Janet Reno. It's...uh...whatzisface. Tom: Wait, if they both had large screens then how are they different? > Skye removed one of the gizmos from the > drawer and locked the other back up. All: One is the loneliest number.... > > A synthesized tone alerted Skye that his computer was > finished booting up. Mike: Gyaaaah! It turned itself on spontaneously! > Skye pulled over his swiveling office chair and > sat down in front of the terminal's warmly glowing screen. Crow: [Skye, sexy voice] Hello, baby...I've missed you.... > Skye > inserted the gizmo into an external port that he had wired to his > computer's network connection. Crow: Thanks to his self-built, custom-made gizmo-plugger-inner dookickey. Tom: For crying out loud. Why didn't he just SAY it was a Palm Pilot? > The gizmo slid into the port guided > by two prongs that were formed to the shape of the sides of the > device. Tom: So in other words, a *plug.* Mike: Shhh--don't ruin the moment. > The port allowed Skye to interface with and program the > microCD disc of the gizmo's hard drive. Crow: [Agent K] This microCD will replace CDs as we know it. 'Course, this means I'll have to buy the White Album again. > > [HOST INTERFACE NEGOTIATED] Tom: [CHANNELING REGIS AND KATHY LEE] > > Skye typed: > [PROGRAM MICRO-CD DRIVESET] Mike: Mike said: [OOH! HOT TYPING ACTION.] Tom: And the next four chapters are all in computer jargon. Crow: Oh, I hope we don't miss a single command. > The computer replied: Crow: [CAN'T YOU USE FLASH MEMORY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE?] > [COORDINATE SOFTWARE READY] Tom: [READERS INCREDIBLY BORED] Crow: I'm getting a "Time Chasers" flashback. > > Skye typed: > [LOAD COORDINATES ARCHIVES] Crow: [BIGGER LOAD WRITES BAD FANFIC] > > The computer complied: Crow: Crow said: [ANY COMPUTER THAT COMPLIES WITH THIS DOOFUS SHOULD BE SHUNNED] > [ENTER DESIRED COORDINATES] Mike: Skye typed: [RED BLOUSE AND NAVY-BLUE SKIRT] > > Skye typed eight lines of > code looking like this: Tom: Dear God! We're going to have to sit through eight lines of garbage? Mike: We've already sat through several million lines of garbage. What's eight more? > [2: -01/LRT; 2^1.2/GF; Crow: Hey, that's *dirty!* Mike: It is? Tom: Uh...when you're older, Mike. > TRP] All: Go Terps! Whoooo! Hail to thee, Maryland! > [11(2): +L/G; 13^1/DK; CD!] Mike: [Skye] Dammit, Kitty, stop walking on the keyboard. Crow: Meow. > > He entered the coordinates Crow: Didn't he already do that? Tom: A deja vu usually means an error in the matrix. Something must have been changed recently. > and then typed: > [CONVERT COORDINATES FILES] Crow: Oh, he's running MISSIONARY.EXE. > [SAVE COORDINATES FILEBANK] Tom: SAVE those coordinates, brother! > > The computer confirmed: > [COORDINATES ARCHIVE SAVED] Bots: HAL-lelujah! Mike: So...the archive is saved in the memorybank? Crow: Don't say it. > [REFERENCE PROGRAM UPDATED] Mike: But the memorybank is... Tom: We're warning you! > > Skye typed: Mike: ...is overdrawn! Crow: That's it. Tom, get the clown hammer! Tom: Me? You're the one with the semi-working arms! > [END TASK; Tom: [INSERT RED BARON PIZZA, PRESS TIMER] > COMMAND SKYWOLF] Mike: [YOU FORGOT TO SAY 'PLEASE'] Crow: It's a computer AND a general. > > A red light on the device > blinked Tom: [Computer] That's a porn site, sicko! Mike: [Skye] Maybe it should have been CQ? Crow: [Skye] Last time I trust a strange changeling. > as the new data was > written on the microCD. Mike: Wouldn't that be a microCDRW? Crow: What's the sudden interest in technical competence anyway? This episode sponsored by CNet or something? Mike: It's an "Undocumented Features" tribute. > > [PRESS 'RESET CD-PROGRAMS'] Tom: [WONDER IF STEAMING COWFLOP OF STORY WILL EVER END] Crow: [GIVE UP IN DESPAIR, BANG HEAD AGAINST THEATER WALL] > > Skye did. Crow: [Skye] Good thing I installed a 'Reset CD-Programs' button. Tom: [Skye] The phrase means absolutely nothing, but didn't it sound really cool? > > [TIMER PROGRAMS CONFIGURED] Mike: [READERS SEMICONSCIOUS] Crow: [SMALL CHILDREN WEEPING] Tom: [SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE ACTIVATED] > [PRESS 'ENTER COORDINATES'] Mike: [MAKE INEVITABLE "OPEN THE AIRLOCK, HAL" JOKE] Crow: [YOU DO IT, I'M BITTER] > > A loud ringing interrupted the lightning-fast clickity-click > of Skye's fingers dancing on the keyboard. Crow: "Expert typist!" I've got that one. [marks card] > His eyes focused upon the > numbers on the screen, Skye grabbed the receiver off the hook. Mike: [Skye] Hello? Hello? Oh, I'm talking into my alarm clock. > > "Speak now. It's your dime." Tom: [distorted voice] What's your favorite horror movie? > > "Darian?" It was Doctor Cranston. > > "Yes?" Mike: [Cranston] What are you wearing? Bots: Mike!!!! > > "Why did you leave? You didn't give the second part of your > lecture. Crow: [Cranston] And only eight minutes of the first part. > I had to drag Walter from the Nuclear Physics lab." Mike: [Cranston] --Kicking and screaming! Tom: [Cranston] If I have to be in this fanfic, HE should suffer, too. > > "Ooooh, Walter, isn't he the nozzle All: Nozzle? > that stole the credit for > your research on the Yang-Mills Field? Mike: [Cranston] Yeah, but he redeemed himself when he unified it with the Yin-Mills Field. Crow: [Cranston] He even let me get some credit for the General- Mills Field theories. Tom: [Skye] Yeah? Well, he's still such a spork! > Seems to me that he was the > best choice to talk to that group of pretentious..." Crow: He can remain on topic, he doesn't bore them, and he's a stable, mature adult. If that's what they want as a lecturer.... > > "...Skye." Burt was sorry for what happened, but he didn't > want his friend becoming resentful. All: Too late. > "What happened at the symposium > today wasn't right and I'm sorry, Mike: Why is *he* apologizing for Skye's stupid blunder? Crow: You've got to stay on the good side of an author avatar. > but that's just how the scientific > community is. It takes time for people to warm up to new theories." Mike: They also demand actual proof. They're kind of funny that way. > > Skye mumbled what he thought about the scientific community under > his breath. Crow: [Skye, muttering] I'm an unknown fourteen-year-old working on complex physics theories. How dare they question me.... Mike: [Skye] They can just cram their microscopes right up their... > > "Thanks Prof. But unlike Copernicus, Da Vinci, and Galileo, I > don't intend to be dead before everyone else catches on." Tom: I wouldn't worry. *They* all had valid theories. Crow: So Copernicus, Da Vinci and Galileo intended to die before everyone admitted they were right? Suicidal geniuses, coming up next. Mike: He meant that he's doing this for fame and glory. Crow: Wow. Suddenly I feel connected to his altruism. > > Cranston switched to diplomacy. Tom: Then Monopoly. Then Parcheesi. > "I don't suppose I can talk > you Crow: [Cranston] --Into accepting a mutually advantageous settlement with the KLA? > into lecturing at the University next weekend, can I? Mike: [Cranston] The guys said you were better than a stand-up comedy act! > Only > twenty-one more and I'll have paid for your first year of college at > Mannheim." Crow: Just don't forget who's paying the bills. > > "What do you think?" Skye said with mock sarcasm. Tom: [Cranston] I think you'll say something nice about a person other than yourself someday, and I'll have a heart attack. Crow: "Mock sarcasm." That anything like imitation cubic zirconia? > "Besides, I > don't think I'll be hanging around that long." Tom: But at the pace this fanfic's going, we probably will. > > "Why? Where are you going?" Crow: [Skye] Wherever the wind takes me, baby. > > Skye stopped typing and pushed his chair slowly away from the > desk. He'd just made a big mistake. Tom: [patiently] That's what the "delete" key is for. > > "Oops." Mike: [Skye] Uh, remember that Nuclear Physics Lab Walter was in? He was there to make sure a certain needle didn't hit the red zone.... Bots: KA-BOOM!!!!! > > Dr. Cranston had been his close friend for six years. Crow: Ever since Skye took Cranston's course on Linear Equations as an eight-year-old freshman. > He > deserved to know the truth. Tom: But can he handle it? > Skye sighed. But if he told him now, > Burt might try to talk him out of it or stop him. Skye didn't want > him to try. Mike: [Skye] I refuse to let anyone look at this rationally and determine the risks involved. > > "Drop by my house the day after tomorrow. All: [singing] You're only a day after a day away.... > I'll explain > everything. Okay?" Tom: [as Skye]: Look, I'm having my fundage drained tomorrow and you *don't* wanna be around when the smell hits. You have one of those doughnut things I could sit on afterwards? > > Dr. Cranston was used to Skye's thoughtful pauses and > predilection for secrecy. Mike: His complete indifference to whether Skye lived or died probably had something to do with it. Crow: Cranston also knew of his application to S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Tom: [James Bond] I think I'd like to apply to the revenge department. > "See you Saturday then. Tom: I call foul. An engineer with NO classes on Friday? Mike: It happens. Tom: Well, I suppose.... > Take care, > Skye." Mike: [Cranston] Jeez. Could he have picked a DUMBER nickname? > > "Thanks Burt, I will. Good-night." Crow: [Skye] Say hi to Ernie for me. > > Skye hung up the phone with a plastic 'click'. Crow: A plastic 'click' beetle? Tom: So in addition to everything else, he's such a hypochondriac that he can't touch his own phone? > A dark feeling > settled over him. Mike: Join the club, Skye... > Burt had been the closest thing Skye had ever had > to a father figure. Crow: Burt was always telling Skye to clean his room. Tom: This Felix Unger wannabe? You'd have to tell him to unclean it. > For his tenth birthday, Burt had taken him to a > football game with his real son, Andrew. Crow: Skye rode in the back with Burt's plasticine niece, Dorothy. Tom: [Skye] Thanks for letting my son tag along. My wife needed a breather, and Andy can be a real handful.... Mike: I'm expanding the Marrissa riffing laws to cover all hints of any 14-year-olds having sex. > The Detroit Lions had lost, All: Hail to the Redskins! Hail victory! > but that hadn't mattered. Crow: Until he realized he now owed Big Lenny fifty large. > For once, Mike: Gus Ferrotte had a career high best and didn't run into a wall to celebrate. > he felt like part of the family. Crow: Burt Cranston kept calling him "Meathead." Tom: Mike, I'm getting worried. Skye is starting to show a happy memory and a feeling that some people are good. Mike: Don't worry. I'm sure it will change. > > Sadly, the feeling didn't last long. Tom: Whew. Mike: See? You just have to have faith. > Andrew, like a typical > 11-year-old, couldn't stand not Mike: --using double negatives. > being the center of attention. > During the fourth quarter, Andrew decided that he was tired of > sharing his father. So, on the way to the parking lot, Andrew Crow: --Morphed into a hurricane and killed them all. The end. > said > exactly what was on his mind. No holding back. Tom: [Andrew] Dad, why did you have me when you were 49? Mike: [Burt] Well, when a daddy and a trophy wife love each other very much.... Crow: Shh, guys! Andrew's about to tell off the avatar. Tell him good, Andrew! > > "He's not your son! I am! He has his own parents. You're MY dad!" Tom: Awww, we could have done better than THAT. Mike: Ahh. The showing of sibling rivalry that proves the author was an only child. > > Skye shrugged it off, but he didn't say another word Crow: Can we get that in writing? Mike: We *did* get it in writing. > for the rest > of the day. Skye wasn't mad. Andrew was right (sort of). Tom: Andrew didn't know about Burt's affair with the bar waitress.... > Burt was > Andrew's father -not his. Mike: No matter what Burt claimed when he wore that funky black helmet. > Fair or not, Skye was on his own. Crow: He would have to take out the enemy MiGs himself. > > Skye shook himself from his reverie. Tom: So remembering a joyful-turned-painful event qualifies as a "fanciful musing or a daydream"? Mike: It does for this guy. > > "But not for much longer." > > Skye now had the means to start over. A chance that people often > pray for but very few ever get. Crow: Unless you're Duke Nukem. > And Skye was grateful. > > Skye's finger was poised above the button that would finish the > job. Crow: Oh, the "delete entire fanfic" key. > > Skye pressed ENTER. Tom: Hey, why is it called the "enter" key when it's used to skip a line? Mike: Who knows? Crow: Who cares? Tom: And how come on Macs it's "return"? You don't return to a line where you've been. Mike: Servo, shut up. > > *BEEP* Mike: General protection fault error. Ignore? Close? > > [SYSTEM RE-INITIALIZING] > [DISCBOOT ON-LINE @GATE] Crow: [Computer] I'm telling him about all the stuff you've been pirating. > > Skye carefully slid the device out of the port. He held it before > him like the Holy Grail Tom: [Skye] Now I can save my father and beat up some Nazis! > -as if it would vanish from his grasp. He > had the key to the Omniverse in his hands. Mike: Well, put it down. You don't know where it's been. Or when. Crow: [checking his card] "Able to manipulate space and time"...yep, I've got that one. > Skye stood in the center > of the garage, raising the device like King Arthur brandishing > Excaliber. Mike: Y'know, it just doesn't look the same with a souped-up TV remote. Crow: Having cut through the mixing of metaphors, we see a man way too excited about this. > > Skye pressed the blue button labeled LAUNCH. Tom: As his equipment left orbit, Skye wondered why he did such a thing. > A line of > equations sped across the screen, illuminated in yellow light, as > the device processed its data. Mike: Omniverse solutions. From IBM. > > The sound that followed was partly artificial (from the device) Crow: No, sorry. I only use all-natural devices. > and partly from the wormhole. Crow: And partly snores from the audience. Tom: So the Omniverse has 1000 flushes? > > Deguuuuuu-ooooooshhh!!! Mike: Isn't that the name of a planet in one of the Star Wars movies? Crow: No, I think it's that sound effect that happens when Frank pushes the button. Tom: You're both wrong. It's the sound of James Bond's all-terrain BMW crashing into the ocean. > > Skye was transfixed. There was an electric surge Crow: Should have done static discharge testing. > that made the > room smell of All: [Fall out of their seats.] Tom: It smelled of snuff? Crow: Maybe the electricity turned him into a smurf. Mike: You're both wrong. This is a Batman crossover. Skye just defeated the Joker. > - it smelled of ozone. Mike: Skye immediately died from all the smog in the room. Crow: That's what he gets for beaming into Los Angeles. > Static > electricity made his neck hair stand on end. The space in front of > Skye rippled as if the air had become water Crow: Doppler says we've got a lot of humidity in the area. > in which someone had > dipped their finger. Tom: It's like the Sliders portal, described by citizens of a universe populated by film noir detectives. > Then, the heart of the oddity dropped away Mike: Shouldn't it be called the eye? > -taking on the appearance of a paranormal funnel. Tom: So ... it stopped being odd and became paranormal instead. > > The object had gone from semi-transparent to a vaguely-opaque, Crow: It transformed from something you can't quite see through to something you can't quite see through! How much would you pay? > sparkling and shimmering, diaphanous, and reflective portal. Mike: Which object is he talking about? Crow: The VCR remote. That's what makes it impressive. > The > portal fed on itself, spreading out to a diameter of six feet. Crow: If you feed on yourself, don't you get smaller? Tom: Not if you're fattening. > The > chromoambient (colorful) effect Tom: Never use a big word where a diminutive one will do. Crow: Just what I always wanted. A fanfic with subtitles. > began with a white rim forming > around the edge of the portal. Mike: All colorful effects begin in black and white. > Then the ring faded, Crow: Beaming into the bathtub. > flooding the > wormhole like ink in water with every imaginable shade of blue, Tom: So the water has every shade of blue.... Mike: And the ring flooded the wormhole as if it were ink? Crow: No, it looks like a flooding of a flooded area. > randomly streaked Mike: Oh, like the last sentence. Crow: Wow. The phrasing makes these events come alive. > with rays of white. Crow: I told you everyone involved was Jewish! Watch as it forms the Israeli flag.... Mike: That's enough, Crow. > > Then the whirlpool effect started. Crow: And soon Skye was relaxing in a nice, affordable hot tub. > > Air currents formed around the doorway, producing the noise of > rushing wind in the garage. Mike: All this so he can fall asleep easier. Tom: It's all worth it when the portal plays easy listening.... > It was a specter unlike anything Skye > had ever seen. Crow: And the ghost was evil. Then he rushed out of the portal. Then he slimed Skye. Then he killed Skye and took over the world. Then the end. > It was something the likes of Steven Spielberg and > Industrial Light and Magic would give their lives for. Tom: In other words, they'd commit suicide if they couldn't manage to come up with something less cheesy than this. Mike: No, it means that the author is too lazy to describe it. Crow: You're both wrong. It means that the author would murder them just for their FX equipment. > > His face illuminated by the ghostly doorway, Skye drew upon the > spirit of the moment. Mike: This author has an unhealthy attraction to blue and the undead. > > "Eureka." Mike: He got out a vacuum cleaner? Tom: Whirlpool, Eureka...what is this, a story or an appliance commercial? > > After drinking a shot of grape juice (vintage 1998) Tom: [singing] When I was thirteen, that was a very good year.... > and an hour > of proposing a toast to everything he could think of, Mike: [Rabbi Tuck] And we'll bless the trees and the grass and the squirrels until we get feshtugen drunk.... > Skye headed to > bed. Tom: ...leaving the wormhole on all night while it sucked everything into total oblivion. Crow: He built an Omniverse portal just so he could get to bed without walking? Hey, that's actually pretty smart! > > o FLASH FORWARD FOUR HOURS o Mike: We'll still be reading this fanfic. > > FLASHBACK NIGHTMARE All: MAKE UP YOUR MIND! Tom: Flash forward. Flash back. You can do the flasher polka.... Mike: The next sentence, he's going to flash sideways. Crow: Excuse me, young man. You can't do a chronology U-turn in this zone. License and registration, please. > Earth - Grand Rapids, Michigan Mike: Once again, the marketing department exaggerates. > Skye Wolfe's Bedroom/Den > Dream Realm - Nightmare Division Mike: Department of showing up at school with no clothes on. > October 02, 1998 AD - Fri. 12:01 AM > > ~~ What does a genius dream about? ~~ Crow: Fudge. The maple kind. > The car passed the yellow sign indicating the bridge that they > would cross over Grand River on. Tom: Ugh, what a yucky sentence. > They were heading toward Belmont. Mike: On a very special episode of Unsolved Mysteries.... > > It was dark, despite the full moon. Mike: [sighs] As we head rapidly toward Eye Creatures territory... Tom: Like *that's* any big shock. > His father, the man he now > only remembered as 'Dad' Mike: So he also changed his name to an unpronouncable character? Tom: It's his father! How ELSE is he going to remember him? > turned around and said something funny to > him and his sister. Tom: Whom he now only remembered as "Little Pirate Foo-Foo." > All four members of the Wolfe family laughed > together for the last time. Crow: Then they snapped and went on a suicidal killing spree. > > >FLASH!< Crow: Suddenly, Mom lost her top! Tom: [Paparazzi] Smile for the camera. And watch out for that beam. Mike: Oh, my God. The paparazzi killed Kenny. Crow: You bastards! > > The windshield of the car went white. Skye's father slammed on > the brakes -hard. The car swerved. Skye heard their screams. Tom: The lesson learned here today? Never tell a joke while driving a car. > > 'No!' Skye thought, 'not again. Please! Please no--' Crow: But an alien pops out of his chest, sings a short number, and dances out of the car. The end. > > The still sleeping Darian Montgomery Wolfe moved his lips, > projecting the remaining fragment of his thought into reality. Bots: [Those twins on the Simpsons] Now it's time to end Skye's dream. And don't forget the standard scream. > > "-not the light..." Tom: But this time, Skye headed toward the light. The end. Mike: [Skye] I don't wanna be kidnapped by aliens again! > > >FLASH!< Tom: [as Rik Mayall] Check out my *equipment,* girls! Woof, WOOF! > > Skye bolted upright in bed - awakening in a cold sweat. He fought > against the rush of adrenaline as he forced his analytical mind to > regain control. Crow: [Skye] My body is like a hollow reed.... > The nightmare and the unreasoning fear it caused > dissolved back into the subconscious vault of his mind. Tom: Oooh. Suppressing traumatic memories. How psychologically healthy. > > Being found abandoned in a car alone in a forest had ways of > screwing with your psyche. Mike: To say nothing of the car insurance. Tom: So, the rest of the family ditched the car, abandoned Skye, and ran off to Canada, eh? Mike: Sounds like it. Crow: Wouldn't *you*? > Being forced into a foster home with Rick > and Darla didn't help things either. Crow: Ironic detatchment. Your ticket to reader empathy. > But it was, Skye admitted, > better than the 'Foundling Home' institution. Tom: Fondling Home? Crow: That explains the repressed memories. > Thankfully, he had > surprisingly few memories of the time he had spent in that place > waiting for a foster family that would take him in. Mike: So few memories that we won't get a single specific about why it was bad and why we should care. Crow: This author spent five years on Rick's abuse, and didn't fulfil your request either. Tom: Yeah. At least the vagueness means we get out quicker. > > Skye just sat there, listening to the soothing sounds of the > night. Tom: [sings] Listen to the music of the night ... > > When his breathing returned to normal, Tom: The ONLY normal thing about this jerk. Mike: I'm starting to miss Marrissa Picard. Crow: Yeah. At least she was semi-sane and showed some backbone. > he laid back down and > went to sleep. Mike: Now I lay me down to sleep. Crow: Well-rested, I can be a creep. Tom: If I write fanfic when I wake, All: I pray the Lord my soul to take. > > o SOMEWHERE ELSE ENTIRELY o Crow: Wait, doesn't that call for another title sequence with the location and time and stuff? Tom: Obviously the author thought they were stupid, too. > > The fantastic thing about Tom: Tiggers, is tiggers are fantastic things. > dreams is that two people can sometimes > have the same dream at the same time and it doesn't matter how far > apart they are. Mike: Same dream. Same time. Different dimensions. Crow: [whispering] Sliders. Tom: And sometimes, you can show up someplace wearing the same clothes as a total stranger, and it doesn't matter that they're three sizes bigger. God is *good,* isn't He? > > At the very moment in which Skye closed his eyes again, a Mobian > fox in another universe bolted upright as Skye had done. Crow: [Fox] I just dreamed that I was trying to kill Ned Flanders! > The floor > that her and her parents were sleeping on was cold, Mike: Boy, talk about lousy hotels. > but that wasn't > why she was shivering. Tom: No? I guess it was just a Tai-bo exercise, then. > She had just had a terrifying nightmare. Crow: [Fox] I dreampt I was in a fanfic and destined to sleep with the dweeby main character... Oh, my God! Can it get any worse? Mike: Yeah. When she finds out that he's the mirror image of her dead brother, killed in a llama accident. Tom: Which would make her equivalent to Skye's sister.... All: AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! > With > a scream, the dream faded and the relative comfort of reality sank > in. Mike: Let's not panic. Tom: Too late. Mike: Just because every other Sonic fanfic author borrowed from Star Wars doesn't mean this one will. Crow: Dear God. Let him be right. > The scream also woke her mother up. Tom: In keeping with the story, Dad just ignored it. > > With a gentle shushing whisper she said: Mike: [Mom] Stop waking Mommy. She has to get up early to be captured by Robotnik, tortured, and let go again. > "Go back to sleep, > Tamara." > Crow: [Mom] You've got to pitch for Abbott's baseball team, In The Morning. Tom: What's the team's name? Crow: In The Morning. Tom: Any time you want, pal. Mike: Ha, ha. Come on, let's split. [They get up, leaving their Avatar Bingo cards on their seats.] [Door sequence.] [Bridge of the SOAR. Crow is sitting at a computer.] Crow: [typing] But for all the mistakes that Mike Nelson had ever made, the largest boneheaded move was still in store. It was a debacle of such tremendous proportions that we dare speak of it only through whispers of its name: Shadow Stepping. [Tom and Mike walk in] Tom: Boy, what a doozy of a post, huh? Mike: Yeah. I never thought I'd miss the rigid scientific accuracy of "This Island Earth." Tom: Hey, Crow. Crow: ARGH!! I'm not doing anything! Nothing at all! So stop bothering me!!! Mike: I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning. Okay, spare me the usual accusations and dignity ripping and just tell me what's going on. Crow: Well, it all started when I realized the danger you faced when you became a public figure. Mike: As a TV News movie reviewer? Tom: Crow, they make cameras stronger now. He can't break them with his face, provided he remembers makeup. Mike: Har de har har. Crow: Well, now that Mike's a public figure, it's only a matter of time before someone writes an unauthorized and irresponsible bibliography for a huge royalty fee. Tom: So you figured you'd beat them to the punch. Crow: Yeah...I mean, NO...I mean, well, I used my extensive knowledge to write an accurate account...and scrapped it to write a version with more marketability. Mike: Uh-huh. [starts reading] During this low point in his career, his fight with Kim McFarland underscored his tortured internal emotions spurred by memories of the rough relationship with his abusive father, Rick McTeague. Tom: Wow. You're Irish? Mike: So where does Nelson come from? Crow: No, no...Geez, don't you know your own history? [sigh] The first draft is on the desk over there. Mike: [reading] Mike Nelson was orphaned in a car crash at age eight when his loving, doting father took his eyes off the road and crashed into a flying saucer. The aliens took Lord Fencourt Nelson's body with them, along with Mike's mother and his two sisters, Tamara and Samantha. Tom: Wow. No wonder you have that tortured dark soul that always drives you toward the paranormal. Mike: What are you talking about? Tom: For example, your Bobby Vinton music collection. If that's not a sign of alien activity study.... Mike: [back to reading] It was at this point that Mike Nelson met his only friend, a fellow orphan that could connect closer than any brother. Crow T. Robot, while handsome, was also troubled, searching for meaning, and... [stops reading] if I recall, not created for at least 20 years. Crow: It's a...literary device. I can show your emotions through conversations with my narrator. Trust me. All the greatest bibliographers use them now. Tom: Like that guy who did Reagan's. Crow: Yeah! Mike: That explains why you keep calling me "Dutch." Crow: Uh, that has to change. Copyright problems. I decided I'd rather plagiarize from Doonesbury, so now I call you "Ducks." Mike: Ducks? Tom: You were cool enough to earn a nickname like "Ducks"? I am unworthy to stand in your presence. Mike: Tom! This is all ridiculous. Crow, you're just irresponsibly changing facts and passing off a fictional account as true. And for what? Crow: Royalty money. Fame. Regis already called to book interviews for both of us.... Tom: Wow. I hear the new co-host is HOT. Mike: Crow, you're missing the point.... Crow: No, YOU'RE missing the point. Do you think people still buy Kitty Kelley books because of her journalistic prowess? Or books from Ivana Trump? Mike, the kiss and tell book is in. Nobody wants to read about a temp worker from Wisconsin. That's why I added accusations of a wild past involving alcohol, drug use, wild orgies, and the eventual culmination where your partying and lecherous behavior led to the disgrace of every female on the Swedish Olympic Team. Tom: Wow! Really? Mike: No, I never.... [thinks for a long moment] Uh, I mean that I will not divulge my past, except to say that when I was young and irresponsible, I was young and irresponsible. All: [laugh] Crow: I knew you'd get it. Remember, Regis has to interview me first. You get to "deny" later.... Mike: We all get to deny later. We're at the next level. It's...a campus apartment? [Mike must play in the "Real California Games" by winning at Beer Pong, Asshole, Sixty-Nine, Pool, and Gossip. The "boss" level is "Circle of Death." He must beat the master: his wacky Twin Eddie from the Pink Boy Buffet series.] [SOAR] Mike: I got the last item, a piece of dryer lint. And what looks like a power crystal. MW: It's a combinator module. Place the five keys together to form a major key. [Mike places the module and all five keys together. They glow and combine to form.... A Krusty the Clown talking doll.] Gypsy: Ooh. [starts to play with it] Tom: I don't get it. Crow: Neither do I. Krusty: I didn't do it! [clown laugh] MW: I must confess a loss of ideas. I was hoping that the first combination would be more self-evident. Krusty: Buy more merchandise. [clown laugh] Mike: Well, we have to do something with it. Maybe go to another world? MW: I didn't see any other clues for that. Krusty: Sure, I was DUI. But is that such a crime when I have an unregistered handgun? [clown laugh] Tom: Darn it! Did we risk our lives for nothing? Crow: All that effort to be stopped because as a guide, you.... Krusty: Geez, didn't you morons think to scan me? I'm a wormhole seed. Just shoot me through a torpedo tube at the coordinates written on my back and fly through to get past the perimeter shield and into Forrester's lair. [clown laugh] Crow: Wow. That doll talks more than Hamlet. [SOAR must shoot its way through enemy ships, and successfully float the doll into outer space.] [Movie shot of wormhole opening. SOAR flies through. Wormhole closes before attacking ships can punch through.] All: [Cheers] Mike: Good work, crew. We did it. All of us. Crow: Guess it takes a village to raise a wormhole. Tom: So, when do I get my Wheaties box picture? MW: I'm afraid we're only a fifth of the way to Forrester's lair. Mike: Then let's get cracking. Crow, set a course for the North Star. And straight on until morning. Crow: Captain's Cliche Corner. Aye aye. Mike: [smiling] Warp...all of us. Engage. [Shot of SOAR speeding off to the distance.] --------------FINE Zone 1--------------------- [Insert disk for Zone 2. Continue? Or save and exit?] "Mystery Science Theater 3000" and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and copyrighted [c] 2001 by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. "Sonic the Hedgehog" and "Sonic the Hedgehog" characters are trademarks of and Copyright Sega, Archie Comics, and DIC. 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, Sega, Archie Comics, or DIC is intended or should be inferred. No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s) are implied or should be inferred. Stinger: > Darian mumbled something under his breath that ended with: > "...what else could go wrong?!"