"These haughty words of hers have batt'red me like roaring cannon shot, And made me almost yield upon my knees." Duke Of Burgandy, *I Henry VI* ====================================================== Presenting "MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER NIGHTS" by Nightbreak THE 2ND MASTER-MSTER TRIPLE FEATURE (A Triple MSTing of Fellow MSTers) "Otakumania", "The Sometimes Self-Conscious Nerima Rangers," and Jamie's fic are all respective property of Alicia Ashby and Tim McLees, Justin Golden, and Jamie Jeans. MSTed with permission. Ranma « is property of Rumiko Takahashi. Mystery Science Theater is the property of Best Brains Inc. and other people who work with that show. All copyrights are respectfully theirs. I don't have any money, anyways. So I doubt they would get anything out of suing me. Soi belongs to Watashi Yuu, the creator of Fushigi Yuugi. I make no claim on her. On The Record: One last jab before Mally 2000! *SATELLITE OF LOVE, 1900 HOURS* *Y2K? Y NOT?* *AND IN SPACE, NO ONE HAS TO WATCH SCREAM 3* "Nothing happening?" "Why, you want something to happen?" Joel yawned, flipping the pages of his "Janitors Today." "Not really. But something *has* to happen before Dr. F. calls. Isn't that like some kind of tradition or something?" Tom Servo asked. Joel frowned, looking over his shoulder. "Now that you mention it . . ." Just then, a tall figure in a black robe and white Scream mask clattered into the room, waving a large knife in the air. "I TOLD YOU I WOULDN'T DIE!" The figure then tripped on a hole in the carpet and crashed in a pile of golden metal. "OWWWWW!" "Yep," Joel sighed, "There it is." Slapping his magazine down on the control panel, he bent down to untangle Crow from the folds of the robe. "Now, Crow, what have I told you about running around the Satellite on stilts?" Crow rolled his eyes until they were facing forward in their metal sockets again. "Ummmm, watch out for low doorways?" The white mask floated across the room, a red hoverskirt visible beneath it. "Somebody want to get this thing off my head?" came a muffled voice. "Unless we want to do a crossover with Sleepy Hollow, that is." Joel plucked the mask off Tom and bundled it back into the costume. "All right. We've had our excitement for a while. Now Dr. F. can give us a call and we can get back to pretending he controls us." "You mean, Dr. F. *doesn't* control us, Joel?" "Well, other than the fact that he doesn't give us any choice on what movies we watch, he's got us trapped up here all by ourselves, and he likes torturing us at his leisure . . . no, Tom. He's got absolutely no control over us." "Oh." The three of them stood in silence for a while, staring at the small control panel of lights, waiting for one of them to blink. A redheaded young woman strolled onto the bridge as they were engaged in their staring contest. She raised three fingers, folding them down one at a time. "Three. . . . Two . . . One . . . " On cue, the red light began strobing. Soi shrugged as the guys all looked at her. "It's a gift. Now, come on, Dan and Delion are calling." *DEEP 13* "Ah, hello, Local Yokels!" sneered Dr. Clayton Forrester. "No time for niceties today. Invention! Now!" *SATELLITE OF LOVE* "Geez, who Swiffed his Sweeper this morning?" Crow grumbled. Joel merely shrugged. "Well sir, you know that when you're trying to read a book or a magazine outside, and you suddenly realize that it's getting dark! So you buy those portable little book lights that barely give enough glow to attract fireflies." Reaching beneath the counter, he produced a paperback book. "That's why I came up with this, sir. Gypsy, lights!" The bridge of the SoL plunged into darkness, only to be illuminated seconds later by a white glow from the pages of the open book. "Glow in the dark paper, sir! A few hours in regular light, and you'll have enough power stored in a novel to run your refrigerator, just in time for that late night snack. So, what do you think?" *DEEP 13* "Ah, very . . . good, Joel. Well, I hope someone's told you how that book ends, because you may not get a chance to finish it. If today's experiment doesn't get to you, our invention might. In fact, I've sent it up to you and would like you to review it personally." Looking rather unsure of himself, Joel shrugged. "As long as it isn't that Home Radiation Exposure Treatment Kit of yours again." "Ahhhh, no. Frank was kind enough to test that for me, Joel. This is the latest movie tie-in toy! And it comes from a long history of movies. It's your very own Remote-Controlled Serial Killer!" *SATELLITE OF LOVE* "KYYYYAAAAA!" The four SoL members tore across the bridge, a white-masked generic Crazed Movie Killer chasing after them. A minute later, they hurried back the other way, Soi now carrying Tom in her arms. On the fifth or sixth pass, Joel leaned on the control panel for breath. "Dr. F . . . . I never thought I say this, but you'd better give us the movie for today, or you'll be out of test subjects!" "Ah, good to hear I do have some control over your pathetic little life, Joel. Just a reminder . . . I *hear EVERYTHING!!* Now, into the theatre!! MWAAAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!" As the Opening Theme from the Scream Trilogy shot through the speakers, Joel gawked and waved his arms at the rest of the crew. Joel: LET'S GO, WE'VE GOT FANFIC SIIIIIIGGGGNNN! *The four crew members rush full speed into the theatre.* *Begin Horror Class Door Sequence!* Door 6: *Halloween!* *As Door 6 closes, the RC-Serial Killer runs flat into it.* Door 5: *Friday the 13th!* Door 4: *Nightmare on Elm Street!* Door 3: *Poltergeist!* Door 2: *Exorcist!* Door 1: *Scream!* *Soi flops into her seat, dropping Tom in the seat to her left. Beside them sprawl Crow and Joel.* ROLL EM! > Hello people! > This is just a little something I wrote up. Tom: *wheeze* Isn't that how the beginning of the Unabomber's manifesto goes? >I like Resident Evil 2 allot and being a fan of the game will help with it. Soi: Ah, the love of the game! >This one is mainly a set up for the next chapter. So send me what you >think of it! Crow (whips out cellular phone): Hello, Federal Express? Can I send a large pile of fertilizer by airmail? Joel: Crow, give it a chance. >Yours Truly, >Jamie Jeans Tom: J, E, Double F, J, A, Double R, E, Double T. Double J! >"Jolt! Sweet... nourishing... jolt..." > >Survival: Silhouette's trip into hell... Soi: Otherwise known as sitting through the collected works of Jim Varney. >WRITTEN BY: Jamie Jeans Tom: MOCKED BY: Us! >I guess what I could say was that this story was written on a whim. > When I played Resident Evil 2, I fell in love with it. Crow: The hard part was eloping with the computer. They can't climb down a ladder too well. > The sheer excitement and adrenaline rushes it gave to me was so addictive, > all I could do was ask for more. Joel: So, it was like eating Girl Guide cookies. Tom: Pretty much. > Even when I started having nightmares about G-virus monsters crashing into > my home and Zombies wandering about the street, I still asked for more. Crow: Would it be rude of me to suggest that Jamie seek professional help? Soi: Not if you think we should join him. Crow: Oh, okay. Jamie, seek help. We'll join you when we get down from here. >Therefore, I decided to insert my character, Samantha Jones, into the >situation of a zombie filed town and see what happens. Joel: Can you say, "Splat, smear, dip?" > I will *not* have her meet Clair or Chris because it would ruin the story > for both me and fans of the game. Crow: Plus, Sam isn't big on threesomes. Unless it's. . . Joel: Shut up, Crow. Furby: Ecchi. >Enjoy the story and if you have any questions as to Samantha's powers, >just send me an e-mail at: xwing@uniserve.com and I shall be happy to >explain. Soi (Jamie): I shall send you. . . another story! BWAAAHAHAHAHAHH! >Legal Stuff: The characters and concept of the game, Resident evil 2, >belongs to Capcom. Tom: Who are sick, twisted, and depraved individuals for creating such a game. I like them a lot! > Please do not sue me for I am merely borrowing your characters and not > making any claim on them. Crow: That lawsuit ought to be hitting the old e-mail account any minute, now. > Samantha Jones a.k.a. Silhouette, belongs to me, Jamie Jeans, and can be > used with permission. Tom: Tell that to Kevin Nash. >Now, on to the story!!! >_____________________________________________________________ Soi: Geez, Daylight Savings Time has already started! No sunrise. >The beautiful summer weather did little to belle the feeling of death >and danger in Raccoon City. Tom: Yep. It was mating season, again. Joel (Southern Belle): Why, Coonie honey, you old rascal you! > That was the first impression that the athletic redhead could sense when > she stepped off the bus and onto Main street. Crow: Then she stepped in front of the bus and ended up as a second impression. > Waving good bye to the middle-aged bus driver, the young woman >started her way down Main street towards the police station. Soi (girl muttering): Donut courier. . . could there be a more depressing job for a girl in police college? > As soon as the sound of the bus's large engine grew faint, she noticed that > something was wrong. Tom (girl): Let's see. . . high heels, plus quicksand. . . not good! >There was absolutely no sound in the city... (A tumbleweed rolls through the theatre.) Joel: Where are those things coming from? >Her six foot, well muscled body tensed as signals of all kinds assaulted her. All (whispering): Conformmm. . . conform. . . Everybody's doing it! > This peaceful city was no more. In it's place she felt hell on Earth. Crow: Bill Gates must have sent out advance copies of Windows 2000. >Samantha Jones a.k.a. Silhouette looked about the deserted street and >started to walk down it, All: (whistle Western showdown theme) > feeling the aura of evil and death growing more and more the further into > the city she walked. Soi: Man, tax time is getting rougher! > After about a minute of walking, she finally spotted someone on the street. Tom (person): Don't. . . plead . . . the . . . Fifth. . . ugh! >"Hey there!" she called out, feeling some relief at seeing another > person. "Do you know what's going on here? The place is almost > deserted!" Joel (person): Yeah, McDonalds tried to top the Arch Deluxe. Never seen so many people panic at once like that. >The person, who had been shambling along, turned at the sound of her > voice and shambled towards her. Crow (person): I'm okay! I can drive. If I can find my feet, I can drive! > Even with the street lamps turned on, she couldn't make out what the > person looked look and naturally assumed his shambling as a result of > being drunk. Soi: Well, that and the lampshade over his head and the floppy clown shoes on his feet. >"Well, it is Friday night," she thought, walking up to greet the person >and, perhaps, to help the person home. Tom: He's probably just getting out from six hours of anime at his local club. > "I wouldn't be too surprised if I saw quite a few people walking about..." Crow: Uh, yeah, but you haven't seen anyone yet. >Both she and the person stepped under the light of a street lamp at >about the same time, giving the redhead a better view of the person's >features. Joel (Samantha): Oh hello, Mr. Gingrich Tom: Cheap shot, Joel. > Her breath caught in her throat as the light lit up the rotten features of a > man with eyes the color of an unhealthy white. Joel: Sorry, Tom. You're right. (Samantha) Hello, Mr. Flynt. Crow: It vas very nice to meet you. Now, go away. > Too shocked to say anything, she backed up from the man as he continued > to shamble towards her, moaning in a voice from beyond the grave. Soi (voice): Ooooooo. . . Jaaaaayyyy. . . did it! >"My god... what are you? Get... get away from me!" she shouted as the >man slowly lunged at her, grabbing onto her arm. Tom: Sorry, but how do you "slowly lunge" at someone? Are they underwater? Crow: Either that, or he's a really ancient mime with bad reflexes. > Reacting on instinct, she pulled her arm back in a burst of strength and > nearly screamed when the arm came away from the man, retaining it's > grip on her arm. Crow: Okay. Now I'm lost. What arm went where? >"Sweet Jesus! A zombie!" Tom (Jesus): Don't look at me! When I bring someone back to life, they're alive! Joel: Tom, someone's going to get you for that. >Her right foot swung up and around, kicking the zombie in the head and >shattering his jaw in a spray of gore. Joel: BOOT TO THE HEAD! All: NYAH-NYAH! Joel: BOOT TO THE FANFIC! All: NYAH-NYAH! Joel: BOOT TO CHIBI-USA! All: NYAH-NYAH! > Stumbling back a few steps, the zombie regained it's balanced and shuffled Soi (zombie): Okay, balanced deck, Five Card Monte, Kings wild. > it's way back towards her. Pulling the limb off her arm, Samantha Crow: Proceeded to beat him over the head with it? Tom: Wishful thinking. >dropped her backpack and reached into it, taking out her katana. In a whirl > of motion, the sword slashed out and the zombies head fell to the ground, Joel (muffled French Accent): What fool put a carpet on the wall? > the body following a few seconds later. Crow: Shouldn't that be, "First the foot, then the head. That's the way you make someone dead?" Joel: No, that's how you make a bed. Crow: Oh. >Still somewhat in shock over the horrible sight in front of her, she >poked the body with her sword Tom (disembodied voice): Ow! Quit it. . . Ow! Quit it. > and shivered as the body began to twitch, as though it were still alive. Crow: Great deduction, Einstein. >"What the hell is going on here?" she said aloud. Soi: Fanfic hell. Next? > "I come in here to scout out the place for me and Alexander and I step into Crow: That little puddle of sick in front of the local bar! Joel & Tom: Ewwwwwwwwww. > a freaking B movie..." After a moment of calming her heart, she cleaned her > katana off with a cloth Tom (zombie): Hey, that was my favorite pair of socks! > and placed it back in it's sheath in the backpack. "But at least it looks like > this was the only one..." Joel: Fate? Over to you. . . >Fate was feeling quite picky that day Tom: Good call, Joel. > and, upon hearing the vigilante's words, decided to prove her wrong... Crow: That Fate, what a fun-time girl she is! >Very wrong... > >Her good hearing caught the sound of shuffling and she turned around, Tom (Samantha): Hark! Dost I heareth the sound of a strip poker game? >seeing several zombies shamble out of alleys, stores, up and down the >street, all of different races and sex, Soi: Oh no, wait. Sorry, folks. We have to apologize for the mixup here. Apparently those weren't zombies, but average college students. Our mistake! > all with one purpose in mind: to feed. >To feed on the red headed woman... Tom: Looks like Pasta Night at the school cafeteria was a bust, huh? >"I *have* stepped into a bad B movie! Sweet Jesus!" she cursed, Joel (Jesus): Careful. Dad's in a smiting mood today. Tom: Now who's going to be in trouble, Joel? > picking up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. "Come on >Coreman. You can come out and shout cut, now!" Crow: Alan Smithee, make your presence felt! >But no bad director stepped out and shouted the desired word. Joel: Instead, he shouted another word. Tom (director): That's LUNCH, people! Soi (zombies): All right! > This was no bad movie but a horrible nightmare come to life. Crow: Otherwise known as fanfiction. > Without any hesitation, Samantha tapped into her inner soul, > feeling the rush of power flood her body and her eyes flashing white. Tom: Ah, the soul keg party! >The zombies were beginning to converge on her and she needed an escape > route. Crow: Just ask the author to write one in. >Looking up, she saw it and jumped up onto the street lamp. Tom: Then the power came on and fried her like a squirrel. > Balancing on it, she jumped up and onto the roof of a nearby building. >Glancing down, she watched the zombies turn towards her and then enter the > first floor Joel (elevator operator): First floor: rotten fruit, the FFML, and flame hazards. Watch your step, please. >of the building she was on, smashing in through the window and door in >their bizarre, maddened drive for living flesh. Crow: So, it was a lawyers' convention, then. Soi: Along with movie critics, too. >I had better not stay around here," she thought, jumping over onto the >next building. "I do not intend on becoming a meal for the walking dead." Joel: That's what everyone says about being audited. >She continued jumping from building to building as she made her way >deeper towards the city center. Crow (Samantha): I can't miss the Grateful Undead concert tonight! > All the while, she pondered at how a seemingly thriving city could >suddenly become filled with zombies. Tom: Joel, doesn't that happen on earth fairly often? Joel: Well, it usually starts sometime after the tenth round of beers. >"Aside from the obvious, how can these things be walking around?" she >thought, looking down on the street and gazing even more of the zombies Soi (zombie): Look out, we're being gazed! Tom (other zombie): What's that mean? Soi (zombie): I don't know. But it's gotta be bad! >following her. "I could jump down and kill one or two, but if I do, >several more take their place. Joel: And if, in any case, the zombie champion is unable to complete their tasks. . . > Plus there's the risk of being bit and turning into one." Tom: Hey, even being gummed by a zombie would creep me out. > came the voice of her inner soul, Natsuhoshi. Joel (Natsuhoshi): You'd just become a drooling vegetable, dear. Soi (Samantha): But I don't *want* to go into politics! >"About time you said something," Samantha snarled, pausing atop one >rooftop to take out her katana. "Look, you're the magic, myth, dead >creature expert around here. Crow (Samantha): Tell me, what's really in Cheese Whiz? > How the hell do I deal with these things?" Tom (Natsuhoshi): First, get a canvas, some paint, and make a fake backdrop for a cliff. Then. . . . > was his reply. >"You're not sure?! What do you mean you're not sure?!" Soi (Natsuhoshi): Did I make it too hard for you? Duh? >A zombie that had managed to climb to the top lunged out of the darkness >as she was digging in her backpack for her katana. Tom: Rule one: A woman cannot find anything in her purse in under ten minutes. Proven fact! > Grabbing the unfortunate dead man by the front of his shirt, she effortlessly > lifted him up and tossed him out over the street. Joel: Street pizza, here's your delivery! > He made an interesting *SPLAT* noise as he hit the pavement and splattered > all over it. Crow: Oh, man. Get the mop! > but by the science of man.> Tom: Ding dong! Another great idea from the people who brought you penile transplants! Soi: Don't you mean "implants"? Tom: Nuh-uh. Transplants. Crow: Ouch. I'd hate to have that organ rejected >"How can you tell that?" Samantha asked. Joel (Nat): The expiry date stamped on their foreheads, for a start. >my senses are not picking up the taint of magic anywhere. Tom (Nat): We missed our shot at David Copperfield. > Instead, I feel the black hand of science within all of this.> Crow (Nat): My mistake. That's the missing bloody glove from the OJ Simpson case I'm seeing. Man, he *was* guilty, did you know that? >Samantha blinked, watching with a growing disinterest as several zombies >gathered on the street and stretched their arms towards her. Soi: If you need healing, stretch your arms out and touch your TV screen now. > "You're a regular answer book, you know that, Nat?" Tom (Samantha): You don't happen to know how much weight a swallow can carry, can you? Crow (Nat): An African or an American swallow? > the Earth Dragon corrected her. >"Whatever Nat... now, got any ideas on how to get rid of them all Tom (Nat): Yeah. Play some "Achy-Breaky Heart" Soi: Or some dubbed "Iczer-One". >besides me showing off my prowess with the katana?" Crow: Oh, Miss Humility, here. > >"None?" > Tom (Eddie Murphy): None? NONE? I'm gonna break your ass when I get outta here! >"I don't believe it. You're supposed to be the one to guide me to my >destiny and you ain't got *no* answer for this situation?" Joel (Nat): Destiny. . . destiny. . . oh, yeah. You were supposed to be zombie bait. Got a problem with that? > >"I don't believe this! Soi: Well, as you can see, it's right here on page 5. > Didn't a bunch of zombies get up and start walking around back in the >age of magic?" Tom (Nat): Not really. All anyone ever did was pull rabbits out of hats and saw people in half. Back then, of course, we did it the hard way. It was pretty boring. > Joel: You're going to lose points by sleeping through class, Samantha. >Samantha sighed and put her backpack back on then strapped the katana to > her right hip. "If I ever get out of this Crow (Samantha): I'm going to get drunk and dance on tables wearing only. . . Soi: In your dreams, Crow. > and the day ever comes that we meet woman to dragon, I'll personally deck > you." Tom: Ten to one she'll use the Sho Ryu Ken. > > >***** Joel: This paragraph break has been rated five stars by all critics. >An hour of going about the city by rooftop proved that Soi: It was time people started cleaning their eavestrough more thoroughly. > there was no one else alive in Raccoon City. What Samantha *did* >find, however, was Soi: The missing lyrics to the "Ruroni Kenshin" theme song. Crow: ARGH! > the wreckage of several police barricades and cop zombies feasting on the > bodies of their once living co-workers. Joel (Hellish Living Definition of Evil): When souls are torn to everlasting sorrow, and fiends of Hell rejoice upon the slain! O, who can stand? Crow: You're creeping me out here, Joel. > She had heard a giant explosion earlier Tom: Come to Taco Bell, where our slogan is . . . "PBBBBBT!" > and had seen a cargo helicopter flying about, but besides that, > all she had seen were the zombies. Joel: Starbucks was doing a booming business, though. > Natsuhoshi's voice echoed through > Samantha's mind. Soi: Sit through a Gowcaizer marathon first. *Then* tell me about hell on Earth, buddy. >"Yeah... but I'm just wondering what the hell kind of thing brought > this about? If what you said is true and science is responsible for this, Crow (Sam): Remind me not to take biology next semester. > then what were they making that caused this?" Samantha replied. "I can't even > begin to *think* about what made these people into those... those..." Joel (Nat): Brainless, drooling vegetables with no compunction about who they feast on? Soi (Sam): Well, I was hoping to leave Congress out of this . . . > Tom (Sam): That's a pretty accurate description of bank CEOs, yeah. > "Yeah." She gazed down at the wreck of a city bus and winced at the > sight of more former living cops feeding on dead bodies. Crow (Sam): Oh, come on. *No one* should eat the pancreas like that! > It wasn't a question. Joel (Nat): I should call the guys in white coats. That wasn't a question, either. > "I wasn't too good with these kinds of movies when I was younger. Gave > me nightmares when I watched them." Soi: "Strawberry Shortcake" film festival Hell. Crow (corny accent): For I am. . . The Peculiar Purple Pieman, of Porcupine Peak! Ratatatatata Ratatataaaa. . . YAAAHH! Joel: The only character I know that can tapdance inside a cast-iron stove. > > "Because I liked the adrenaline rushes the fear gave me. Crow (Samantha): I lost so many bags of popcorn it felt like Christmas in the movie theater. > And because I was able to convince myself later that it was a movie and all > fake. The whole idea of people that should be dead walking around Tom: I refer you to the Book of John for at least three examples. > in a twisted parody of life freaks me out. When you're dead, Joel: You're a figment of Bill Murray's imagination, brought on by Russian vodka poisoned by Chernobyl. > you're dead. No second chances of any kind." > Soi (Nat): Just put "Return to Sender" on the box. > "Sorry..." > Joel: Hey, I just went through it the other day. You know how hard it is to get to my coffee in the morning? > "I would feel better if I didn't have to deal with this at all! The > supernatural simply creeps me out! Soi: Then *what* the hell are you doing in anime? > Give me plain old humans to fight or some ultra high geared mecha to rip > apart. Those enemies, at least, aren't brought about by magic." Tom: No, but some are contrived from really crappy plot devices. > The sounds of a helicopter grew stronger and stronger Crow (Boss): Get a HUEY over here, STAT! Joel (Steve Guttenberg): STAT? Crow (Boss): STAT! Joel (Steve Guttenberg): What does that mean anyways? Crow (Boss): I don't know! > and she looked up to see the same helicopter she had seen earlier hovering > high above her. Tom (Pilot): Roger, Red-One. Babewatching is now underway and I . . . Whoah! *Hello*, Vigilante! Joel: Thank you, Val Venis. > "Alright! My ticket out of here! HEY!!! DOWN HERE!!!" She shouted and > jumped up and down, Crow (Pilot with binoculars): Yeah, babe. I see you. Do that thing some more! Soi: Guys. . . . >waving her arms to try and catch the attention of the pilots. Then she noticed > something was odd. Tom (Pilot with video camera): Huh? Oh, pay no attention to me. I'm just a weather balloon. . . just some swamp gas. > "Hey Nat... are those canisters attached to the bottom of that helicopter?" Joel (Nat): Why, no! They're remote hot tubs for the crew! > Obliging her unspoken request, Samantha's eyesight enhanced incredibly All: EXTREME CLOSE UP!!! WHOOOOAAAA! > and she clearly made out the five large cylinder's attached to the bottom of the > helicopter. Soi (Samantha): Hmmmm. . . Looks like someone ordered out. > "What are those for? Some kind of bomb?" > Tom: Increase the Flash Gordon noise and put more science stuff around. > "More science? Does it have the same kind of feel that the zombies do?" Joel (Nat): No, it's remarkably smooth and shiny, not slimy and rotting. > > As the two were talking, the helicopter dipped lower Crow (Cuban accent): Whoa! [Help me, patron saint of Eyeware!] Whoa! Joel: The "Obscure short-lived animated prime-time sitcom" plug. > and hovered about a hundred feet above the vigilante, a huge spotlight > coming to life and blinding her. Soi: And. . . cue the overture! Do your dance number, Sam. > Wincing in pain, Samantha's eyesight returned to normal, but she stayed in > contact with Natsuhoshi, body tensed and ready for anything. Tom: Anything, that is, except the Teletubbies Christmas Special. Crow: Don't give Dr. F. any more ideas. > The helicopter dipped a bit lower, Crow (Cuban accent): Whoa! . . . Whoa! Joel: Enough, Crow. Crow: Aw, but it's funny! > still keeping the spotlight on her and sending up huge gusts of wind. Soi: Sam, at this point, be glad you're not in a fuku. > On the street, zombies gathered on the street and moaned at the machine > above them, wanting the flesh of the pilots inside. Joel: Oh, they wouldn't like Army meat. It's pretty tough and stringy. > And just as soon as the helicopter had hovered above her, it started to fly > away. Crow (Pilot checking camera): Darn. I though I had those rechargeable batteries in here! > "Hey! Where do you think you're going? GET BACK HERE!!!" Tom (Samantha): I didn't get my Air Miles! > Without hesitation, the inner energy was channeled into the legs and > focused into strength, all in a split second, and she leapt up after the > ascending helicopter. Joel: Air Jordan, eat your little slam-dunking heart out. > Squinting against the rush of the wind, Samantha continued upwards, > reaching the apex of her climb more then a hundred feet above the ground Soi: And, for her next trick, Sam will put on blue tights, a red cape, and proceed to race trains and outrun machine gun fire. Crow: Well, at least she's got the Buns of Steel. > and on level with the frame holding the thick cylinders to the > helicopter. Tom: Looks like someone ordered the giant economy-size Viagra. > Reaching out, she grabbed onto the frame and held on for > dear life as the helicopter continued to gain height. Joel: Should we film this for one of those annoying Fox "World's Most" television shows? >The side door opened up and one of the pilots, or Samantha assumed it >was one of the pilots, Crow (muffled British Accent): Jeeves, who is it? Tom (stiff British Accent): It appears to be a young woman in spandex after your weekly Viagra dose, sir. > leaned out of the helicopter, a safety line attached to his back and a gun > in his hand. Joel: Then he squeezed the trigger and gave her an eyeful of water. > "COULD YOU GIVE ME A LIFT OUT OF TOWN!?" she shouted, too > focused on hanging onto the frame to notice the gun in his hands. Soi (Pilot): You want a gift of a cow? Well . . . all right. Here, catch! Furby: Moooo. ^v^ Soi: Don't get *too* cute or I zap you. > She noticed it when a bullet ripped into her side, striking and bouncing > off a rib. Crow: Should we tell Samantha she's got an extra rib? > Cursing in pain, she twisted around and began swinging back and forth, > building enough momentum until she swung up and kicked the pilot in the > chest. Joel (Announcer): And here comes the dismount . . . Whoops! That's going to be a long way down! >Tumbling back from the kick, the pilot struck the inside, his gun going off. > > Jumping in through the open door, Samantha quickly closed the door and > turned on the man. Crow: So quickly? Let's hear it for spandex, everybody! > "What the hell did you shoot me for?!" she shouted, running up and > pinning the man up against the wall. Tom: Well, as they say in the army, "This is my weapon, this is my gun, my weapon's for pleasure, my gun is for fun!" > His gun came up but she casually slapped it aside. "I'm just trying to >catch a ride!" All (singing): Now pop the crucial question, "A ride for a ride!" > shouted Natsuhoshi. Joel (Sam): Now's not the time to discuss my personal relationships, Nat. > As one, both Samantha and the pilot turned to see the second pilot > slumped over the controls, dead, his brains now decorating the > windshield of the cockpit. Tom (Occipital lobe): Okay, get rid of all this chrome and glass. I want to move into the warm tones. Soi (Frontal lobe): Let's splash a bit of paisley around, throw down a nice set of fuzzy dice, this could be called home! > The helicopter then began it's downward trip as the control stick was bent > forward by the dead man's weight. Crow: Thank you for flying Dead Air, where we guarantee your trip will be as silent as a graveyard and just as final! >All too quickly for the vigilante and the other pilot to react, the copter lost > attitude Furby (Robert De Niro): You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? > and crashed into a small office building, bringing it down about them. Tom: You know, small businesses have been hit really hard this year. >***** Soi: Well, we've cleared all five targets in this part of the biathlon. Let's keep skiing > It was slow for Samantha to regain consciousness after the crash. Or at > least, slow by her standards. Crow: Okay, put the funnel in her mouth . . . now, carefully pour the moosejuice down . . . > Coming to, according to her watch, had taken her several minutes at the most > and, in the current situation, that was several minutes too much. Joel (zombie): I say, dear, do you have the time? > The rubble had fallen over and around the helicopter, effectively burying it. > But while she had smacked up against the back of the empty pilot's seat, Tom (Sam, muffled): Oh, the in-flight magazine *does* have those little cologne-scented cards! > the pilot himself has flown through the window and had been buried by the > collapsing building. Soi: What did he do, see his reflection and think it was another pilot? > Natsuhoshi asked. > > "Yeah, I'm fine... got one hell of a headache, but I'll be fine," she > mumbled, trying to stand in the partially crushed interior. Tom (Nat): Oh, a headache? I've got an old remedy from ancient Greece for that. I'll just take this axe here . . . > Cool relief > filled Samantha's mind and, with the pain gone, she was able to think clearer. Joel (Samantha): Hey Nat? Can you bottle some of that, along with a little bit of that "other stuff" you do in my head? > Eyes flashing white, she took a good look at the interior and realized > that the copter had crashed on it's side. Crow: Oh, there went the Steinway, my pretty little Persian rug . . . ohh my Tabasco sauce! > Reaching up, she took ahold of the door handle and gently pulled > herself up, bracing her feet on the ceiling. Soi: No, don't kick the chandelier! The brains just got everything redecorated! > With a burst of strength, she plunged one hand through the door and then > yanked, ripping the door in Tom: Whoopity-doo. That was the screen door. > and getting covered in a small avalanche of rubble and dust. > >"I swear," she said, coughing out a few lungs of dust. Joel: Hey, you want to cough up some more replacement organs while you're at it? Try a liver or two. > "The next time I scout out a new place for me and Alexander to live in, > I pick up a brochure first." Crow: One *without* the Whitewater stamp of approval on it, either. > Climbing out was no problem for her, as a minimum of rubble had landed > on the door, the real problem arose when she got out and spotted the > empty cylinders sprawled amongst the rubble. Soi: Ohhhhh, who used all my extra-strength NyQuil caplets? > "Uh... Natsuhoshi? Those things weren't bombs..." Samantha said, Tom (Nat): No, but they were the unbeatable zombie-killing city-destroying flesh-preserving throat-soothing non-drowsy formula so you can rest easy from evil medicine! > feeling a sense of dread rise up even as the hair on the back of her neck did > the same. Joel: It's time for fun with Static Cling, with Samantha Jones and Jon Arbuckle! > The zombies are aimlessly wandering souls whereas those that emerged from > these canisters are... RIGHT BEHIND YOU!!!> Tom: And ready to perform . . . All: . . . The Dreaded "Rear Admiral!" > Turning around Samantha saw a huge man, six and a half feet high to be > exact, dressed in heavy combat boots and a large trench coat buttoned all the > way up looming over her. Soi (Samantha): Ummm . . Crosstown bus run all night long? 'Bots (giant): DOO-DAH! DOO-DAH!! > The skin on his head was a dark gray, completely hairless, and the eyes were > two black dots, nothing more. Joel (giant): Excuse me, but could you direct me to the needlepoint seminar? > Even dressed under the immense trench coat, the body of the monster > standing before her spoke of inhuman strength and a lack of anything > resembling a human soul. Tom (Mark Calloway): The wrath. . .of The Undertaker . . .still burns. > It raised a giant, gray skinned fist to punch her but she moved aside, > too fast for it's slow, yet powerful, blows. Crow (Sam): Ho! Ha! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Ha! Thrust! > Quickly, Samantha unleashed a barriage of rapidfire kicks up and down the > monsters side, connecting with the knee, neck, head, and ribs. Soi (bored giant): Oh, I guess I'd better look interested here. . . >No effect. Soi (giant): Nah, I don't get paid enough for that. > Joel: Mahoney! Mahoney! I need help! Listen, the busboys are . . (nasal) shooting my nose. . . > Taking her eyes off the monster, Samantha turned around and saw, much to > her dismay, that the zombies were now starting to come off the street Tom (zombies): Hey, it's cold out there tonight and the shelter's open! Have some compassion! > and crawl across the rubble towards her and her opponent. The double > fisted blow on her back both stunned and reminded her not to take her > eyes off her opponent. Crow: See what happens when you don't let the other kids play with your eyes? > Stumbling face first onto the rubble, she rolled to the side, narrowly missing a > large foot planted where she had been. Soi: Bit late in the year for feet to be blooming, isn't it? Really got to water them. > Grabbing onto it, she yanked on it and tripped the monster up. It fell > back and into the helicopter, Tom (giant, muffled): Hey, I found the complimentary peanuts! > giving Samantha the time she needed to jump away from the rubble and onto > the safety of a deserted rooftop. Joel: Just as long as she doesn't interrupt the Goodfeather's pecking match at the other end. > Looking down, she watched as the monster slowly climbed out of the > copter and turn to stare at her. Crow (giant): That was a *priceless* Steinway! Tom (Inspector Clouseau): Not any more. > After a few moments of silence, it walked away from the rubble of the building, > tearing through the zombies as though they were nothing. Soi (zombies): Help, help! We're being repressed! > "Evil of science, eh Nat? I think I'm actually beginning to believe > that," she said. > Joel (Nat): Well, that and the evil Sex-Ed classes. > "Oh don't you get started..." Samantha stopped when she saw four > more of the trench coat cladded beasts walking away from the rubble. All (guards from Wizard of Oz): Yo-ee-oo . . yohh-um! Yo-ee-oo . . yohh-um! > They joined the fifth and, as one, the small group turned to look at Samantha. >"This is not good," she said, the group of monsters turning away and walking off. Soi (ditzy voice): On the contrary! The Munchkins are very happy! You landed on the Wicked Witch of the West's lawyers! > There is nothing more we can do here. However, there maybe some that are > alive in the residential section of the city.> Crow: That'll be fun, trying to tell the difference between a yuppie and a zombie. Tom: How *do* you tell the difference? Crow: No idea. > Samantha nodded and cast one last look at the departing group of > monsters. Something told her that it wouldn't be the last time that she > would see them. Joel: Unfortunately, the next time she saw them was on the stage at the Toga-A-Go-Go performing "The Full Monty". > ______________________________________________________________ Joel (Pat Sajak): Our next puzzle is 62 letters long. Tom: Uh, can I buy a vowel? > Please send any C & C to: xwing@uniserve.com Soi: I've got one. NEVER do something like this again! All: AMEN! Joel: It's break time, anyways. Let's get out of here. *Carefully*, mind you.