"Kentucky Derby" This is my fourth MiSTing and my first of a Ratliff work, so please for the love of God, enjoy. MST3K is property of Best Brains Inc, no infringement onf any copyrights is intended. This is purely for entertainment purposes, so don't sue me or give me a spanking or something nasty like that. Special thanks to my buddy Freak for teaming up on this. YOU DA MAN, FREAK! Note to Stephen Ratliff: put down the computer...and slowly back away. SEASON 9 CREDITS, TITLE SEQUENCE* 6....5....4....3....2....1....()=() THE SOL BRIDGE, CROW IS SITTING THERE LOOKING AROUND. MIKE COMES IN. TOM SERVO IS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.* MIKE: Hello everyone. I'm Mike Nelson, welcome to the Satellite of Love. With me, as always is Crow T. Robot, Say hello, Crow... CROW: Hello, Crow. MIKE:...and Tom Servo who apparantly is nowhere to be found. *AS IF ON CUE OR PLOT CONTRIVANCE (YOU BE THE JUDGE), TOM SERVO SWINGS IN FROM STAGE LEFT, COMPLETING THE PICTURE. HE HAS POINTED EARS (GREMLIN-STYLE) TAPED TO HIS DOME AND HE IS COVERED IN FUR* TOM: Hi, Mike. MIKE: Hi, Servo. Umm...dare I ask what you're doing? TOM: By all means. Mike, there comes a time in a robot's life when he ponders his place in this big universe. Therebiet he ponders also the reason for his existance. Who he is, why he is here... CROW: How many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop... TOM: *NOT STOPPING* and as such a said robot, I, Tom Servo have come to a crossroads in my life. I now know who I am. MIKE: and that is... TOM: A Furby. MIKE: I see... TOM: Yes. I am an adorable and if I may say so, EXTREMELY POPULAR mechanical toy who sings, dances and does a bunch of other stuff to entertain the shrinking attention spans of America's children. CROW: You look like a mutant Mogwai. TOM: Think of it, Mike, By Christmas I could be worth thousands at internet auctions all over the world! MIKE: Tom, I'm not too sure about this... TOM: Come on, Mike. How hard is it to talk in a gibberish language nobody understands? Women want me. Face it, ladies and gents, I got it goin' ON! *VOICES FROM OUT OF NOWHERE, WOMEN'S VOICES* VOICE 1: Oh my god! They have one! VOICE 2: I saw it first. VOICE 3: Over my dead body...OUTTA MY WAY! *ABOUT FIVE EARLY 30-SOMETHING FEMALES COME CHARGING FROM THE RIGHT AND KNOCK MIKE AND CROW DOWN.* TOM: AAAGH! *TOM HIGH-TAILS IT OUT OF THERE* *COMMERCIAL SIGN* CROW: *GETTING BACK UP* Man, where did THEY come from? MIKE: *GETTING BACK UP, KINDA DAZED* I don't know, nor do I wish to. CROW: So...a Furby, huh? MIKE: A Furby. CROW: *looking at commercial sign* Think you better get that? MIKE: Yeah...I suppose I should. We'll be right back. *HE TAPS COMMERCIAL SIGN* *COMMERCIALS. COMMERCIALS FOR AN ALL-NEW REPEAT EPISODE OF "SLIDERS", A PROMO FOR AN "ORIGINAL" SCI-FI CHANNEL MOVIE STARRING RUTGER HAUER, WIL WHEATON AND THAT GUY FROM "THE WALTONS".* *END COMMERICIALS* *ON THE BRIDGE OF THE SOL, THINGS HAVE CLEANED UP. TOM RE-APPEARS WITH ONE EAR MISSING AND HIS FUR IN SHREDS* TOM: You know? Maybe popularity isn't everything it's cracked up to be. Mike, you mind? MIKE: Oh, no problem. *MIKE takes what's left of the fur off TOM and the other ear. TOM is once again the Servo that we know and love* CROW: Feel better, now? TOM: I suppose so. There's just this emptiness though. Like NBC's entire Must-See-TV Monday Lineup, you know? That kind of emptiness. CROW: Wow, that's empty. TOM: Yeah. And the thing about it is, I still don't know who I am. MIKE: Maybe that's how it should be. Don't dispair, Tom. You have me, Crow, Cambot and Gypsy. We're a clique that can't be put down. You should be honored to be in such exclusive company. You're Tom Servo. That's all you are, that's all you should ever be. *THE MAD LIGHT IS BLINKING* CROW: Hate to spoil the love-in, but Darryl, his brother Darryl and his other brother Darryl are callng. *MIKE taps the MAD BUTTON* MIKE: How's it hangin' Pearl? *CASTLE FORRESTER, PEARL IS DRESSED LIKE THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN, BOBO IS WRAPPED UP IN TOILET PAPER LIKE A MUMMY, BLIND AS A BAT MIND YOU, AND OBSERVER LOOKS JUST LIKE DRACULA* *SOL* ALL: HUH??? *CASTLE FORRESTER* PEARL: Top of the afternoon to ya, Billy. You're just in time to witness my latest evil plan... well, actually it's more lust-driven... *SOL* ALL: *like Ernest P. Worrell* EEEEEEEEWWWWWWWW. *CASTLE FORRESTER* PEARL: Shut up. BOBO: *WANDERING AROUND AIMLESSLY* LAWGIVER! LAWGIVER, WHERE ARE YOU??? OBSERVER: *ROLLING HIS EYES AT BOBO* I swear, it's a MIRACLE you guys evolved opposable thumbs. *SOL* MIKE: Well thanks Ob...*insulted*...HEY! *CASTLE FORRESTER* *PEARL ELBOWS HIM IN THE SOLAR PLEXIS* OBSERVER: *DOUBLING OVER* OOF! PEARL: As I was about to say, my latest plan is to lure those Dreamier-than-thou hunks-o-man The Backstreet Boys to the Castle. I estimated that after watching that video where they become Dracula, the Mummy, the Wolfman, etc...that they'd be attracted to dark, dank castles. That way they can be my bed pillows. *SHE SIGHS DREAMILY* *SOL* MIKE: *LOOKING AT TOM AND CROW* Well...I'm no longer hungry, how about you guys? *CASTLE FORRESTER* PEARL: Don't dis my men, Nelson Eddie! *THE DOORBELL RINGS* PEARL: *EXCITED* That must be them! Bobo, go get the door! BOBO: I'M BLIND! I'M BLIND! *HE FALLS RIGHT OUT THE WINDOW* WAAAAHHH! PEARL: *ROLLING HER EYES* Brain Guy, ya mind? OBSERVER: Oh, no problem *HE CONCENTRATES, THE BACKSTREET BOYS APPEAR. AJ: Yo, wassup wit dis? KEVIN: Yo yo this is wack. HOWIE: Where are...*TAKING ONE LOOK AT PEARL* Yaaah! PEARL: *DREAMILY* Hi. You know, I can make you Backstreet Men. NICK: Umm...no. BRIAN: Tell ya what. We'll think about it and then get back to ya... *AJ IS STARING INTO THE VIEWSCREEN* *SOL* *TOM IS STARING BACK* AJ: Yo Yo, whassup wit da ill gumball machine, yo? *SOL* TOM: HEY! *CASTLE FORRESTER* PEARL: Oh, them. Don't mind them, they're just my guinea pigs. I make them watch bad movies and text files in an attempt to break their will and stuff. Nothing much. BRIAN: Ill. OBSERVER: No, I feel fine. *AJ HAS PRACTICALLY GOT HIS WHOLE FACE STUCK UP AGAINST THE VIEWSCREEN* *SOL* MIKE: *WHISPERING* Get out now! She's evil and her plans for you aren't kosher! *CASTLE FORRESTER* AJ: *LOOKING BACK AT PEARL, THEN BACK AT MIKE AND THE BOTS* Huh? Yo, y'all be trippin' up there or sumpin. *SOL* TOM: So da plan is dis, yo. Big Mama be trippin', so you best get ta steppin' 'fo y'all get jacked! *CASTLE FORRESTER* AJ: Proper, little mac. Peace out. *TURNING TO HIS FELLOW BOYS, THEY GET IN A HUDDLE. PEARL AND OBSERVER JUST WATCH, PEARL GIVING THEM SEDUCTIVE WINKS* AJ: 1...2...3... *THE BACKSTREET BOYS CHARGE OUT RUNNING RIGHT OVER OBSERVER AND PEARL AND OUT THE DOOR, APPARANTLY ESCAPING CASTLE FORRESTER* *PEARL AND BRAIN GUY GET UP. OBSERVER IS A BIT DAZED, PEARL IS ANGRY!* PEARL: JUST for that, my little Rats in the Roundhouse you're getting an ESPECIALLY bad fanfic. It's called "Kentucky Derby"...although you wouldn't know it since it isn't titled. And if you ain't down with that, I got one word for ya....RATLIFF! Take it away, Brainiac! OBSERVER: Yes, ma'am. *CONCENTRATES* *SOL* MIKE: Tom, where'd you learn urban slang? TOM: Hooked on Ebonics, Mike. *RATLIFF SIGN* ALL: WE'VE GOT RATLIFF SIGN!!! *THEY DASH INTO THE THEATER* ()=()...2....3....4....5....6.... *MIKE AND THE BOTS ENTER THE THEATER* TOM: You know, as much as the Backstreet Boys suck, I'm glad I could help them out. MIKE: You did real good, Tom. *THEY SIT DOWN* Welcome to Churchill Downs, MIKE: Geez, Ratliff's not even bothering us with a title OR a disclaimer. What gives? TOM: I don't know whether to be thankful or afraid. I'm Don McKay... CROW: *DON* Narrator (kill me) of this (kill me) Ratliff story (kill me). Today well be bringing you the 497th running of the Roses, the Kentucky Derby. MIKE: But first, our pregame show, brought to you by a parapalegic on a Harley. TOM: Only in the Ratliff continuity can sports, CLEARLY STATED NONEXISTANT IN THE 24TH CENTURY, EXIST, LET ALONE THE KENTUCKY DERBY! CROW: Fanboy. TOM: Am not. CROW: Okay...TREKKIE! TOM: *lunges over Mike's lap* LEMME AT HIM, MIKE! There are many stories in Today's Kentucky Derby, TOM: All of them sure to make you need a shower. we'll try to tell them all. MIKE: The Ratliff Boxed Set. Today's field includes two rookie jockeys, for the first time in five years. Ambassador Spock enters his seventieth entry, extending his record. We've got both Klingon and Vulcan jockeys once again this year, CROW: *A Vulcan* Horse Droppings. Fascinating. and we have a filly in the field. MIKE: All hillbillies in the stands quickly load their shotguns. We'll begin with our two rookie jockeys. Rene Picard and Isabelle Boucher CROW: Say it with me guys....Boucher. BOO-shay. TOM: Ratliff...SA-tan MIKE: This Fanfic..PAIN-ful. both ride for Stargazer Stables. TOM: She's thinly named after a US Congressmen, He's a dead minor TNG character. Can they get along? For Rene, it's a one year job, he's been accepted to Star Fleet Academy. For Isabelle, it's her lifetime goal. MIKE: For Mike, it's the Slow Painful Death of one Stephen Ratliff. CROW: For Crow, it's Amnesia. TOM: For Tom, it's Working Arms. Rene Picard grew up in France, the son of a noted wine maker, MIKE: Rightfully so...I suppose.... CROW: *acting drunk* This stuff is nothing like what the replicators conjure up. *hic* Now THAT'S beverage!! and nephew of the Captain of the Enterprise. His involvement in horse TOM: Looks pretty good for a kid who DIED A FIERY DEATH! MIKE:...and the Ratliff continuity begins its pummelling. racing began as a part time job at nearby Stargazer Stables. His father, Robert Picard, suggested it in an attempt to steer Rene away from following in his uncle's footsteps. CROW: Dying off-camera.. It did not stop him from CROW: Dying off-camera... applying to the Academy, but it did spark a new interest in the young boy, displacing some of his Star Fleet posters with horse ones. Last Fall, Stargazer Stables needed a new jockey. TOM: Then Rene showed up. Oh well, you take what you can get. Rene tried out for the position, and having an infinity with CROW: Crispy Critter. Warp Speed, got one of the positions. He's won four times on Warp Speed, MIKE:...and installing the dilithium crystal matrix in the horse's you-know-where was no picnic, let me tell you. and placed four times as well. TOM: So that's at least four times! Isabelle Boucher was Rene's next door neighbor. While Rene's interest may be a passing interest, horses are her life. CROW: Hey, Rene's a boy! TOM: Ratliffian gender confusion in record time. I'm impressed. She convinced her older brother to apply for a job with her at the stables, allowing her to work there earlier than her father would allow her to do alone. MIKE: And he's doing it again! CROW: Hey Ratliff, would it KILL you to be gender-specific here? TOM: I hope so. When Stargazer Stables bought Lady Stargazer, she developed an immediate link with the horse. CROW: Uh-oh... either Isabelle is telepathic or Ratliff's discovered bestiality. She's won and placed as many time as Warp Speed. MIKE: So there. *raspberry* Her first win, and first race, the Star Fleet Invitational Two Year-old Race, shocked the horse world when Lady Stargazer and Warp Speed opened a four length lead on the rest of the field. They are definite contenders in today's field. MIKE: I bet Off-Track Betting is having a ball with this. CROW: Anyone have a Cigar? The favorite in the field is Prime Directive. He has four wins in four starts, MIKE: Damn Starfleet regulations! but has never faced Warp Speed or Lady Stargazer. He's won convincingly every time, with leads of two to four lengths. TOM: Legally? Another story is Sirvok aboard Quarterdeck Breed from Kirk Stables. Sirvok won last year's Belmont Stakes, denying Insignia the Triple Crown, only to break his leg getting off his horse. ALL: *Muffle trumpet* WAH-WAH-WAAAAHHH This is his second start this year. He won the Arkansas Derby aboard Quarterdeck Breed. TOM: Yeah, I understood all of that. Did you? MIKE and CROW: *emphatically* Oh, yeah...yes! Sirvok is the first and only Vulcan jockey to race in the Triple Crown. CROW: and don't you forget it! He's never won the Derby, but perhaps that could change today. MIKE: But remember folks, it's a "maybe" CROW: Would this be a "Demolition" derby, mayhaps? Our other alien entry today, is Code of Honor, owned by the Klingon Empire. Since Ambassador Kang got interested in horse racing back in the early part of this century, the Klingons have fielded a derby horse just about every year. MIKE: Yeah, after Kirk blew his buttocks to Sto'Vo'Kor, he started considering a new line of work. Their jockey, Korrath, is the TOM: Laughing stock of the Empire. second of his line to fill that position. He is the only derby winning jockey in today's field, having four wins in the last two years. To those of you expecting a big Klingon, look again. The Klingon Ambassador conducted a Empire wide search to find a Klingon warrior able to met the weight requirements. Korrath only weighs 98 pounds. CROW: Huh? MIKE: Check, please! Then there are the traditional entries. From the Stars, the Calumet Farm entry is a descendant of such Derby winning pedigrees as Secretariat and Spectacular Bid. TOM: So he's the equestrial equivalent of Marrissa. However the colt has no wins. CROW: The Giants aren't all that hot, either. MIKE: ...and have you seen the Redskins? P.U.! Romulan Dawn from Silicon Stables is from a young upstart stable, it's their first entry in the Derby. Little is expect from the horse, which does have two wins. However they were on muddy tracks, at distances under a mile. Today the track is fast, and the distance is a mile and a quarter. MIKE: But no one cares, no matter the weather. Viper from Greenhill Farm was very impressive in morning practice, but there is some concern that he may have been over worked. CROW: Sounds like SOMEBODY'S gonna be guitar strings and glue by the end of THIS race! HA! Harriman's Redemption is a mid-range entry, with just one win. Although the 50-1 odds don't give much hope to jockey Tod Wels's chance of getting his first Derby win in, TOM: And there's a million-to-one odds that we CARE! MIKE: Easy, Tom. Kirk's Bane from Styles Stables, has better odds, but is not considered a serious contender due to his poor performances in the last two months. CROW: Tell me about it, you ever see an episode of Tekwar? Vengeful Return, an early favorite, has been pulled from the field this morning. The reasons have not been stated, but source states that the colt is running a fever. *TOM disappears beneath his seat. MIKE looks down* MIKE: Tom, what are you doing? TOM: Looking for the RAT'S PATOOT I COULD GIVE ABOUT THIS FANFIC, MIKE!! CROW: I think he's snapped. MIKE: At least his head hasn't exploded. TOM: *From under the seat* YET! This is the youngest field of jockeys in a hundred years, mainly due to the sixteen year olds, Rene Picard and Isabelle Boucher. MIKE:...our so-called "Main Characters". A filly has never won the Triple Crown, CROW: Or a World Series since the 70's. but the Derby has been won by a filly twenty times. A female jockey however has never won the race. Can Lady Stargazer overcome history? TOM: *Jim Ross* or will The Rock once again lay the smack down. Find out later tonight on RAW! IS WAR! We will find out today. MIKE: Whether Gouda is a tangier cheese than Monterey Jack. The call to post has begun. TOM: Gentlemen, start your newsreaders! In the post position, is From the Stars from Calumet Farm, No wins in five starts. MIKE: It's the Equestrian Mike Maddux. Jockey Ryan James is a five year veteran. CROW:...and STILL too young to qualify for Term Life. In the second gate is Quarterdeck Breed. He has one win in six starts. Jockey Sirvok is wearing the black silks with the gold old Star Fleet Insignia on it form Kirk Stables. TOM: Note the strong in-seam, perfect for the Plot Contrivance that's on the go. You'll be sure to turn some heads in this little number. You'll have the four S' wearing this. Smooth, Sassy, Sexy and Smart. In gate three is Warp Speed. He has won four of his last eight. MIKE: *singing, MeatLoaf style* Cuz four out of eight...ain't bad. Rene Picard starts his first derby in the red with a black strip silks of Stargazer Stables. TOM: Do we HAVE to know what their underwear looks like? MIKE: Ratliff thinks we do. CROW: And we THINK we have him all figured out... Romulan Dawn is in gate four. He has two wins in seven starts. CROW: *singing, MeatLoaf style* Cuz two out of seven...ain't... MIKE: I just did that one. Neale Davidson wears the Green and Silver of Silicon Stables, Viper is in gate five. He has three wins in eight starts. TOM: *singing, MeatLoaf style* Cuz three out of eight... CROW: Running that joke into the ground, aren't we. Timothy Epperly is in his rookie derby wears the dark green and light blue of Green Hill Farm. Lady Stargazer from Stargazer Stables is in the sixth gate. She has four wins in eight starts and is the only filly in the field. Her CROW: *singing, MeatLoaf style* Cuz four out of eight...*sigh*...the charm has gone. jockey, Isabelle Boucher, is also a rookie. In the seventh gate is Code of Honor owned by the Klingon Ambassador. Code of Honor has two wins in four starts. TOM: *singing, MeatLoaf style* Cuz two out of...oh forget it. His jockey, CROW: Which had BETTER be inside his shorts... wearing the silver shirt with red and yellow Klingon Insignia, Korrath, is a fifteen year veteran." Gate eight holds Prime Directive . He has four wins in four starts. Jockey Joe Young is a five year veteran. He wears the white and red of Kansas State Farm. CROW: He's there...like a good neighbor. Harriman's Redemption, ridden by Tod Wels, is in gate nine. ALL: Number nine...number nine...number nine... He has a win in five starts. His jockey wears the red and gold of the Star Fleet Security Society. Mike: Park preservationists? Tom: Sounds more like a superhero clique. Kirk's Bane is in the tenth gate. MIKE: Kirk shows up angrily to re-claim it. Mark Green has ridden him to three wins in five starts. He wears the black and white of TOM: NWO Hollywood. Styles Stables. They're all in the gates now, and the starter's gun sounds... MIKE:..oddly like the engine of an '87 Kawasaki Ninja. And they are off. ALL: *singing*..to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz... Warp Speed leads out of the gate with Quarterdeck close behind. CROW: Bet he never thought he'd see Yosemite Sam mudflaps THERE. At the quarter pole, Warp Speed leads with Romulan Dawn close behind. Viper has failed to exit the gate. TOM: *making the sound of a car trying to turn over* MIKE: You know, I'd recommend jumper cables but I think it would be wierd. Lady Stargazer is coming on strong. CROW: There's a song in there, for some reason. Into the turn Warp Speed leads with a battle for second shaping up between Quarterdeck, Romulan, and Lady. On the as they come down the backstretch, Lady Stargazer pulls ahead of Romulan and Quarterdeck, who continue to fight it out for third. Mike: Breaking Law of Gravity and License to Ill. Code of Honor holds fifth with Directive, Harriman, and Kirk's fighting for sixth. Lady Stargazer pulls along side Warp Speed as they enter the final turn. Neck and neck they go around the turn. MIKE: Kill those who think this is quality material! TOM: Ratliff thinks this is quality material. MIKE: That's what I'm talking about. A length back, Romulan Dawn has a head on Quarterdeck Breed. ALL: HEY! Down the stretch they come. Lady and Warp are battling in out for the lead, as they approach the wire. As they cross the line, TOM: Too late. I can not tell who won. Romulan Dawn was a half a length back. CROW: Ratliff, for ONCE could you lay off the Romulans? The rest of the finish order is: Quarterdeck Breed, back a length; Code of Honor, two lengths; Kirk's Bane, two and a half; Harriman's Redemption, two and three quarters; Prime Directive, two and five eighths; From the Stars, at five lengths; Viper, failed to start. MIKE: He should have gone to Meineke. The race time was, 1:58.9, a record time. The judges are examining the photo finish between stable-mates, Lady Stargazer and Warp Speed. If this race is what we can expect in this year's triple crown, CROW: It should suck donkey bottoms! it's going to be a great year for horse racing. TOM: Someone might actually care. As we wait for the judges, lets see that finish again ... ALL: *Groan* MIKE: Kill us a second time, why don't you! It appears to be Lady Stargazer, by a nose, TOM: Although I can't really tell because I've been drinking since noon. but the judges still haven't announced the winner yet. CROW: Good, does that mean we can go now? Lady Stargazer and Warp Speed are making another lap, cooling off, next to each other. TOM: Great, now I'll NEVER get that image out of my head. Their jockeys apparently are discussing the race. A cheer goes up in the crowd as CROW: The violent death of Marrissa is announced. the official results appear on the board. Lady Stargazer wins the Kentucky Derby with an official time of 1:58.9124. ALL: *Non-committal* Yay. MIKE: Boy, THAT one came out of nowhere, didn't it? Warp Speed places and Romulan Dawn at show. The exacta pays 7.32 credits, trifecta pays 6.31 credits and win is 10.38 credits TOM: Wow, what a cheap purse. MIKE: For some strange reason, I feel gypped. CROW: Don't worry mike, you're ALWAYS gypped! MIKE: *Sarcastically* gee thanks, Crow. TOM: Ain't that the truth. Remember when we conned him out of his Debit and PIN Number? CROW: or...or the time we faked that "Feed the Hungry African Children" charity? TOM: Or how about when we sold his soul for rock and roll... MIKE: Guys, ENOUGH! Down in the winner's circle, we have Lady Stargazer, her jockey Isabelle Boucher, her trainer Mikey White, ALL: Huh? TOM: I'm sorry, NO sane adult still lets himself be called Mikey. It just isn't done. and representing her owners, Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Princess Marrissa of Essex, MIKE: Incarnation of purest evil. the jockey for Warp Speed, Rene Picard. Presenting the trophy as the roses are draped over Lady Stargazer, Governor Anne-Marie Sutherland. Let's listen in ... *MIKE covers his ears, then realizes it's a fanfic and covers his eyes* TOM: Do not look directly into the fanfic! CROW: Avert! Avert! "As Governor of the Great State of Kentucky, it is my pleasure to present this trophy for winning the 497th run for the roses, to the jockey, trainer, and owner's representative. Lady Stargazer today gave us a race to remember, beating the time of the great Secretariat." CROW: Gezundheit. MIKE: Wait a sec, 400 years and NOBODY'S beaten Secretariat? TOM: Mike, you're caring. MIKE: Sorry. "On behalf of the owners, Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Lieutenant Marrissa Picard, I accept," Rene said. *CROW and TOM go into violent convulsions at the mention of The Unholy One* At that a reporter begins his interview, "Isabelle Boucher, this is your first derby race. How does it feel to win it?" CROW: *Forrest Gump* I gotta pee. "I'm not sure yet," Isabelle replied. "Ask me tomorrow when it's had time to sink in." "What was the race like?" the reporter asked. TOM: *Isabelle* A convoluted narrative from a complete nerd who has no right to own a computer. "Well the race began just like usual," Isabelle said. "Lady never wins the first quarter mile. But by the half-mile post, I was even with Rene. From that point on, Warp Speed was the only horse I saw. Warp Speed and Lady Stargazer have been at each other since that first test three quarter mile race when Marrissa rode her. TOM: Mike, I feel oily. Every race has ended the same, MIKE: Just like on Nitro. with those two at each other's throats." "What about your relationship with your fellow jockey?" the reporter asked. CROW: *Bill Clinton* I did NOT have... MIKE: Can it, Crow. "We get along real well," Isabelle stated. "Any jealousy, Rene?" the reporter asked. CROW: *Ed McMahon* Me? Jealous? Ho-ho-ho! "It could have gone either way, and I'm not as into horse racing as Belle," Rene said. "She deserves it more than I do." ] CROW: *Rene, under his breath* Slut.... "Mikey White," the reporter said. TOM: *BOB* Why in the HELL do you still go by Mikey? "This is your second straight derby win. How does it feel to have a one two finish?" MIKE: *MIKEY* Like a mild case of indigestion, Bob. "It's hard to root for, Bob," Mikey said. "I've been entering these two horses in races together since they were two- year-olds. I never know which one is going to win, although I'm reasonably sure that one of them will bring it home." TOM: *MIKEY* But we're afraid they might stain the carpet that way, so... "Last year you described watching Insignia win as watching your engines while the Captain runs a speed test, waiting for the engine to blow up," the reporter said. "Is it still like that?" CROW: *Child-like* I don't get it. "Its a little easier, this year," Mikey stated. "Neither of them were the favorite, and they both ran like I expected." MIKE: 1..2..3.. ALL: Forward! "How did you expect them to run," the reporter said. "Warp Speed always starts good," Mikey said. "He gets to the front fast and as long as someone is near to him, runs fast. TOM: *scoff* Men... MIKE: What was that, Tom? TOM: *nervous* umm...nothing, Mike. Nothing at all. Lady Stargazer's a different horse. TOM: The most OBVIOUS statement of the fanfic, ladies and germs. She takes it easy that first quarter-mile, staying in the pack, then she runs to the front, clearing all opposition until she reaches Warp Speed. CROW:...then she disappears in a flash of light and, having no inertial dampers, turns inside- out due to the sudden acceleration. Then the two battle out till the finish. It's been that way since the first day Lady Stargazer came into the stable." TOM: *Johnny Gomez* You heard it here first, on Celebrity Deathmatch! "That's all from the winners of the 497th Kentucky Derby," the reporter said. "Back to you Don." CROW: *Excited, jumping around* Is it over? Is it over? So Derby Day draws to a close here at Churchill Downs in Louisville Kentucky on Earth. CROW: *Furious* GOD...*MIKE muffles CROW, and the rest of his statement comes out in two muffled syllables, but I THINK you all know what he said* We leave you with scene from this year's Kentucky Derby. As Lady Stargazer and Warp Speed come down the stretch and Lady claims her roses, for Federation Broadcast Network Sports, I'm Don McKay. See you at the Preakness. CROW: and we'll see YOU in Hell. MIKE: Come on guys, let's go. TOM: This Fanfic was NOT endorsed by "Dick". CROW: You mean Richard Weed? *They get up and leave* 6....5....4....3....2....1...()=() *ON THE BRIDGE OF THE SOL, MIKE AND THE BOTS RETURN FROM THE FANFIC. TOM AND CROW LOOK A LITTLE ILL, MIKE STRETCHES TIREDLY* MIKE: That fanfic took a lot out of us! CROW: Yeah. Aside from the fact that all my hopes for humanity have been shattered and my will to live destroyed, I don't think this fic had ANY negative effect on me. MIKE: Why does that sound so familiar?... TOM: We need something to take our minds off of...*shudder* Ratliff. MIKE: What do you suggest we do? TOM: Well, I've been inspired by my bootleg Animaniacs tapes. and since if this were an Animaniacs episode, Crow would be Yakko, Mike would be Wakko and I would be Dot... CROW: Since you like to wear skirts? TOM: Since I'm so CUUUUTE... CROW:...that's debatable. TOM: *CONTINUING*... and since in every episode of Animaniacs, our animated counterparts Yakko, Wakko and Dot always find some way of turning a bad situation into a good and hilarious one. How, you ask? Simple. They ALWAYS make mischief. MIKE: So you're suggesting that we make mischief to counteract the effects of the fanfic. TOM: Exactly. MIKE: And what kind of mischief are we going to make trapped thousands of miles above the Earth in a satellite? TOM: Simple. we'll just....*THINKING* No, that won't work. I got it, let's all...*THINKING* No, that would collapse the hull. I got it! We'll...*THINKING*...No, although it WOULD be fun, I think the loss of internal pressure would kinda hurt. MIKE: Can't think of anything? TOM: Umm....No, not really. *MIKE REACHES UNDER THE COUNTER* MIKE: Well, I've got an idea. This calls for another round of the RAM Chip game. *TOM AND CROW BOUNCE AROUND CHEERILY* TOM: RAM CHIPS!! CROW: YES!!! YOU DA MAN, MIKE! MIKE: I know. *PLACING THE BOWL OF RAM CHIPS ON THE COUNTER IN FRONT OF HIM* Now you all know the rules. You think of something that you liked about today's fanfic and get a RAM chip. *THE BOTS GROAN* CROW: You suck, Mike. MIKE: You do not get points for saying "it was short." Let's start. Crow, you go first. CROW: Umm...There weren't as many spelling and grammar errors as per usually found in a Ratliff piece? MIKE: Very good, Crow. *MIKE DROPS A RAM CHIP IN CROW'S MOUTH, CROW CHEWS HUNGRILY* CROW: Mmmm, sweet ambrosia! TOM: It actually had something that sortof kinda may have at some point eons ago resembled a plot? MIKE: I'll accept that. *DROPS A RAM CHIP INTO TOM'S MOUTH* TOM: Yummy yummy yummy! Next stop, my tummy! MIKE:Crow? CROW: No Marrissa anywhere on the premesis! *SUDDENLY MARRISSA AMBER FLORES PICARD, CAPTAIN OF THE ENTERPRISE KIDS CREW, PRINCESS OF ESSEX, ANTICHRIST SUPERSTAR AND QUEEN OF THE ENTIRE FRICKIN' UNIVERSE POPS ONTO THE BRIDGE, COMPLETE WITH STARFLEET UNIFORM AND PINK PRINCESS CAP* MARRISSA: Someone say my name? CROW: AAAGH! *THE RAM CHIP THAT MIKE PUT IN HIS MOUTH FALLS OUT* TOM: Well, this day just turned incredibly crappy. MIKE: Umm...hi Marrissa...how's it going? *MIKE PULLS A SATCHEL FROM UNDER THE COUNTER AND NONCHALANTLY STARTS DIGGING THROUGH IT WITHOUT LOOKING* MARRISSA: I'm okay, I suppose. Daddy's doing his thing. I have NO idea what she sees in that 300 year old Ba'Ku gold-digger. *ROLLS HER EYES* I mean REALLY... *MIKE THROWS SOME GARLIC AT HER. IT JUST BOUNCES OFF HER STARFLEET UNIFORM AND SHE TOTALLY IGNORES IT* MARRISSA: *CONTINUING* And Isabelle BOO-shay. Oh don't WE sound like a French little miss fancypants... *MIKE IS HOLDING A RATHER LARGE CRUCIFIX UP AT HER WHICH IS APPARANTLY WORKING TO NO AVAIL. MARRISSA IS STILL TALKING, OBLIVIOUS TO THE OTHERS. TOM AND CROW ARE NOW LOOKING INTO THE BAG* TOM: Quick, where are the silver bullets? CROW: I thought you had 'em! TOM: D'oh! MARRISSA: Seriously, winning the Kentucky Derby is no big deal. Heck, I could do the same thing with my eyes closed! Ya know what? I really think I could, after all aren't I me? Aaaaanyway. Clara's all "I wanna command the Kids Crew" and I'm all "No, I am Marrissa and you are Clara. I am far superior to you in every way, so sit your little supporting character booty back down because MY word is law, I am Marrissa and you are not. Don't MAKE me start reciting my titles. *MIKE IS POISED TO DRIVE A WOODEN STAKE THORUGH MARRISSA'S HEART. THE UNHOLY ONE, MEANWHILE, CONTINUES BABBLING ABOUT IMPLAUSIBLE SCIENTIFIC SOLUTIONS. FOR INSTANCE, YOU CANNOT REPLACE A WARP CORE WITH A GEORGE FOREMAN GRILL!* TOM: *WHISPERING* No, ya gotta chop off her head with a sword and take her Quickening. MIKE: *ALSO WHISPERING, HOLDING THE STAKE IN POSITION* But that would give me all her knowledge and abilities and Lord knows that is the LAST thing I want! TOM: Ugh, ya got a point there. *MIKE PLUNGES THE STAKE IN, IT SNAPS IN HALF* MARRISSA:...So I tell Geordi "Why not replace the warp core with a George Foreman Grill..." TOM: *SOBBING* NOTHING WORKS! The foul demon remains! PANIC! *THE BOTS RUN AROUND AIMLESSLY* CROW: Game over, man! game over!! *THEY STOP* TOM: Something's gotten lost in that impression, Crow. RESUME PANICKING! BOTS: AAAAAGH!!! *CHAOS RESUMES, MIKE TURNS TO THE VIEWSCREEN* MIKE: Pearl? Help? MARRISSA:...of course you HAVE to keep those adults in line, you know... *CASTLE FORRESTER* *PEARL IS SITTING IN FRONT OF THE VIEWSCREEN CURLED UP ON AN UNUSUALLY LARGE SOFA MUNCHING ON A BAG OF POPCORN, OBVIOUSLY ENJOYING MIKE AND CREW'S PAIN* PEARL: This is great!! *LAUGHS A BIT, THEN PAUSES* But I'm starting to get bored of this.... Brain Guy? Get Marrissa out.... *SHE TURNS TO SEE OBSERVER MISSING. SHE TURNS TO BOBO WHO IS SOMEWHAT FASCINATED BY A PIECE OF BLANK OAKTAG* PEARL: HEY MONKEY! BOBO: *JUMPING* YAAAGH! *TURNS AROUND* Yes, Lawgiver? PEARL: Where's Brain Guy? *SEVERAL GRUNTS CAN BE HEARD FROM THE NEXT ROOM. NO, IT'S NOT THAT, YOU STINKING PERVERTS.* BOBO: I think he told me he had to drop some kids off at the pool, whatever that means. PEARL: *ROLLING HER EYES* WHY?? BOBO: Sounds like...*LISTENS CAREFULLY TO THE GRUNTS* Oh, the creatures on the bowl... What beautiful music they make. Haven't heard that sound since the last Baboon Migrations. *PEARL HITS HIM WITH THE POPCORN BOWL* BOBO: Owie. *PEARL GETS UP AND KNOCKS ON THE DOOR, THE GRUNTS ARE STILL GOING* PEARL: Oh Observer... OBSERVER: *FROM BEHIND THE DOOR* When they say authentic chimichangas come back to haunt you, they are not kidding!...Y-Yes, Pearl? PEARL: *TRYING TO KEEP HER CALM, BUT OBVIOUSLY NOT DOING A GOOD JOB OF IT* What are you doing? OBSERVER'S VOICE: I believe you Earthlings call it "constipation", ma'am. *SOL, THINGS HAVEN'T GOTTEN ANY BETTER. MARRISSA'S STILL JABBERING AND THE GUYS ARE SCARED OUT OF THEIR WITS, NOT SINCE "ENTERPRIZED" HAVE THEY BEEN SO FRIGHTENED* MIKE: Umm, Brain Guy, I understand your gastrointenstinal troubles and I don't mean to rush you, but could you maybe PLEASE hurry up? *THEY BEGIN TO COWER AWAY FROM MARRISSA* *CASTLE FORRESTER. PEARL GROWS IMPATIENT AS SHE STANDS AT THE DOOR* OBSERVER'S VOICE: I'm alert to your situation but as you can see I have troubles of my own. PEARL: Brain Guy? Aren't you the one always saying that you don't have a body? OBSERVER'S VOICE: Yes, ma'am. PEARL: Aaaaand...doesn't that also mean that no body means no digestive system? OBSERVER'S VOICE: Yes, ma'am. PEARL: Think about that for a second. *SILENCE FOR A FEW SECONDS, THEN SOMETHING STRIKINGLY SIMILAR TO THE "JEOPARDY" THEME ALTHOUGH DIFFERENT ENOUGH NOT TO BREAK ANY COPYRIGHT LAWS PLAYS. WE SWITCH SCENES IN THIS ORDER.* *CASTLE FORRESTER* *PEARL TAPPING HER FOOT WITH ARMS CROSSED* *SOL* *MARRISSA JABBERING HER EVIL LITTLE HEART OUT* *SOL* *MIKE AND THE BOTS COWERING* *CASTLE FORRESTER* *THE MUSIC ENDS AND OBSERVER WALKS OUT OF THE BATHROOM, HAPPY AS A CLAM* OBSERVER: Ah, thank you ma'am. I have no body, therefore I have no digestive system, therefore I cannot...oh how shall I say this...bomb Porcelain Harbor. *HE TURNS TO THE VIEWSCREEN* OBSERVER: So, Mike...what's the big to-do? *SOL* *MIKE AND THE BOTS ARE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND...ALTHOUGH A HUMAN HAND, A GOLDEN ROBOT ARM AND A TRANSPARENT PLASTIC DOME WITH AN ARROW POINTING AT MARRISSA STICK UP. THEY ALL POINT TO MARRISSA WHO YES, IS STILL TALKING GIBBERISH* OBSERVER: Oh goodness me oh my. That IS quite a problem. However I WILL have it fixed for you in a jiff. *HE CONCENTRATES* *SOL* *WHO SHOULD APPEAR ON THE SOL BRIDGE BUT THE PERFECT BEING HERSELF...LEELOO! WHO, AS YOU MAY RECALL WAS LAST SEEN BEATING THE BELOVED CRAP OUT OF CROW DURING "THE FIFTH ELEMENT". MIKE AND THE BOTS SLOWLY RISE UP AND IMMEDIATELY RUN TO HER. SHE IS DRESSED EXACTLY AS WHEN WE LAST SAW HER IN "ELEMENT"* ALL: LEELOO! LEELOO: Apipoulai! TOM: Oh are we glad to see you!! CROW: Make it stop, Leeloo, make it stop! *FOR THE FIRST TIME, MARRISSA STOPS TALKING AND LOOKS DIRECTLY AT LEELOO* MARRISSA: You! LEELOO: You! MARRISSA: I thought I had you disposed of at Rigel 17. LEELOO: *STRANGE ACCENT* You think the strangest things, Marrissa. MARRISSA: Yeah, and right now I think I'm gonna kick your scrawny little bee-hind. I am the perfectest heroine in the galaxy and there's nothing you can do to stop me! LEELOO: Come get some. MARRISSA: This time we finish it. THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE! *MARRISSA LEAPS QUITE XENA-LIKE OVER THE COUNTERTOP AND THEY BOTH DISAPPEAR OFFSCREEN. SOUNDS OF FIGHTING CAN BE HEARD. CRASHING OF METAL...WELL, BASICALLY THE FOLEY ARTIST GETS TO GO REALLY BERZERK HERE, BUT YOU GET THE IDEA. MIKE AND THE BOTS WATCH THE FIGHT* CROW: Yeah, yeah! hit 'er again! *they wince* TOM: Ow. Hope you're not planning on playing the violin later, 'Rissa. CROW: Leeloo, look ou...*CRASH* Mike, did that 1000 year old Ming Vase have any sentimental value? *CRASH* TOM: No, not my underwear collect.... *RRRRIP* CROW: Chernobyl Wedgie! TOM: NOOO!!! MIKE: Brain Guy, I appreciate the cat-fight but could you PLEASE take it somewhere else? *CASTLE FORRESTER* OBSERVER: Sure. *CONCENTRATES* *SOL* *LEELOO AND MARRISSA ARE FIGHTING MORTAL KOMBAT STYLE IN FRONT OF THEM. THEN THEY JUST SIMPLY POP OUT OF EXISTANCE. PEACE REIGNS AGAIN ON THE SATELLITE OF LOVE...BUT FOR HOW LONG?* MIKE: Phew. Thanks! *CASTLE FORRESTER* OBSERVER: No problem. PEARL: Mr. Nelson, you have a nasty habit of surviving. You made it through this Ratliff Bombardment, but next time you WON'T be so lucky! Umm...Brain Guy? OBSERVER: Yes, Ma'am. PEARL: Where DID you send Marrissa and Leeloo? LEELOO'S VOICE: Put THIS in your Saucer Section! *CRASH* MARRISSA'S VOICE: You wish, *CRASH* Where are your precious Mondoshawans now?? *BOFF* MARRISSA'S VOICE: OOF! PEARL: *LOOKING WARILY OFFSCREEN* Furthermore...where's Bobo? *CRASH* BOBO'S VOICE: OW-WOOOOOOOOW!!!! *FADE OUT, CLOSING CREDITS* Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and (C) 1998 by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only, no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc is intended or should be inferred. Big thanks to Freak for staying up in the wee wee hours of the morn to complete this little piece of Ratliff dog poopie, All the people that supported this MiSTing, the writers of the First Amendment and all MiSTies coast to coast. Like this MiSTing? Hated it? Then let me know at kramsey20@hotmail.com. Keep dancin'. The Klingon Ambassador conducted a Empire wide search to find a Klingon warrior able to met the weight requirements. Korrath only weighs 98 pounds.