[This is continued directly from part 1. So if you haven't read that, you'd better do so, hadn't you? -B] The bridge of the Satellite of Love was shrouded in sombre darkness, as the the sad day continued... Their own eulogies having already been delivered, Tom Servo and Crow were waiting for the next speaker to, well, speak. Ruri Hoshino, on the other hand, was lounging at the back of the room, bored out of her skull. Mike (for that is who the above-mentioned speaker was, of course.) shortly made his way to the podium. He wore a rather confused expression on his face, the type of expression that clearly asked "What the am I doing here?" In keeping with this expression, Mike soon asked, "Guys, can you *please* explain to me precisely what I'm *doing* up here?" "Well," said Tom reasonably, "you just said that when someone dies you have to have a funeral. And in a funeral, you generally have eulogies and Temp- boy, it's *your* turn!" "Yeah," Mike argued, "but why should I deliver a eulogy for someone that I didn't even existed before today?" "Oh, come on, Mike," Crow urged him, "just *do* it!" "That's copyright infingement, Crow," Mike warned him, "All right... Gentlemen... and lady..." he nodded to Ruri, "Say... why aren't you doing this?" Ruri shrugged. "Just because you have to get yourself stuck taking part in this stupid farce doesn't mean I have to." "Yeah, but..." Mike shook his head, "Never mind. Okay, *ahem*, Pat Lee was... a guy. And... he did stuff. And... it was... of a certain... type. And... that type... was probably bad... And... uh... well... Oh, this is ridiculous!" Crow nodded, "Yeah, but it's fun. Say, Servo, pass me some popcorn, willya?" "We don't have any popcorn, Crow. Besides, we're robots, we can't eat." Tom replied. "Oh, *right*!" Crow nodded. Mike rolled his eyes, "I don't believe this... Oh, hold on, we have mail." He walked over to the umbilicus and took the single envelope from it. "It seems to be from Club Anipike." Ruri nodded, "I was wondering when that would arrive." Mike looked at her questioningly and then opened the letter. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Mike Nelson, Crow T. Robot, and Tom Servo, It is with the utmost seriousness and politically incorrect glee that we write to inform you of the death of one "Pat Lee". Cut down in his prime by his creator, we hope never to see him return. Celebrations will be held at the Anipike for the next week. See you there! The denizens of Club Anipike --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Wow... there's lots of signatures," Mike said, impressed. "Say, why don't they mention you anywhere?" he asked Ruri. "I signed it. Look at the two-hundred and seventy-third signature," she replied. Mike's eyes scrolled down the page and, indeed, the signature in question was plainly there. "Oh, thanks!" he grinned. Suddenly, a red light began to flash. (As they tend to in certain MSTings.) "Hold on," Mike muttered, "the, er, software features are calling." He activated the hexfield viewscreen only to discover, to his surprise, that the caller was actually none other than (the evil) Dr. Clayton Forrester. * * * The good (well, bad actually) doctor was dressed in faded army fatigues (at least that's what he appeared to be wearing, though there likely aren't many armies that issue lime green fatigues), with a large rucksack over his shoulder. "Ah, hello, everyone," he said nervously, "I realize how worried you must all be about us, down here, in mortal danger. So, I just wanted to inform you that the initiative against the insects is proceeding according to plan. I've managed to contact certain subversive organizations and have acquired a large collection of deadly weapons to use against our chitinous friends. "To whit: machine guns, mortars, heavy artillery, grenades, landmines, air- to-air missiles--though I must admit I'm not quite certain what I'm supposed to do with these--and, of course, the secret weapon... RAID!" * * * Ruri rolled her eyes. "Raid?" Mike shrugged, "It does make a certain twisted sense..." * * * "Anyway," Dr. F. continued, "I just wanted to inform you that in no time at all, everything will be back to normal and I'll once again be able to subject you to the worst movies ever filmed and the worst fanfics ever written." A heavy crash sounded from behind Dr. F. "Um... our Insectoid Overlords seem to be heading this way, so I guess I'll now bid you all adieu." So saying, he reached down to press the viewscreen's off-switch. Instead, he mistakenly pressed the button that activated Fanfic Sign. Of course, that didn't really matter since everyone would soon enough have to go back into the theater *anyway*. Dr.F. snapped his fingers, "Whoops! Wrong button. So sorry..." he reached down and pressed another button, which, this time around, happened to actually be the *correct* one. "Bye-bye!" * * * "Uh-oh, we've got *fanfic* SIIIIIIIIGN!" Not unexpectedly, the usual chaos ensued... Door 6: It's a deviously hidden door, invisible to the naked eye. At least it's supposed to be. You find it within three seconds and walk through. Door 5: It's a plain wooden door. You walk through it... right into a brick wall. You take the wall apart, brick by brick, to walk through. Door 4: It's a foreboding, securely locked iron gate. You open the doggie door and squeeze through. Door 3: It slides open with a hiss of pneumatic locks... and starts to close immediately after. You leap through just as it does. Door 2: It's a large Egyptian sarcophagus. You hire a world-famous archeologist to open it. Door 1: It's a large double door that opens inwards into the theater. >hoi all BGC fans! All: Hi, Rob! >Here is the 3rd part of my fanfic, esper chronicles. Tom (deadpan): Oh, joy. >For the most part, It'll deal with Ruri (Rob): Artmic's lawyers suing me for every penny in Fort Knox. >Locke & Sylia plus a few other clarifications. >Hopefully someone actually likes it other Bert ;-) . Tom: Umm... no. Ruri: Not really. Mike: Nuh-uh. Crow: Yeah, yeah, I love it! Oh, wait you're talking about *this* fic, aren't you? >TOKYO-BABYLON clarifications and personal opinions: Tom: It was better than X and worse than Rayearth. Crow: Hey, I liked X! Tom: What, the Official movie of the Society of those who like to cradle decapitated heads in their arms? Mike: I always thought it was the official movie of the society for propogation of crappy fight scenes. Ruri: So many bakas... Crow: Guys... You're so mean... Mike: Well, I'm sure that we can all at least agree that Rayearth was far better than either of the other two. All: Yeah. >I loved the T-B Mike: Tuberculosis? Tom: As long as it's not Hulk Hogan... >fanfic, particulary for the way it gave believable >answers to the sylia\boomer mystery (I never nor never Crow (Rob): Never will I be redundant and I will never be redundant. D'oh! >will believe Sylia is a boomer- period) Mike: Well, if she's a boomer then, yes, I rather doubt she can have a period. >and how the advanced brain effects Mackie. Tom: Advanced brain? Mackie? What*ever*. Mike: Ruri? Is there something we should know about him? Ruri: Not really, he's about like he is on the screen. >However I get the feeling from reading it (and I have read all 5 parts) Crow (Rob): I have it framed up over my bed! Ruri (Rob): I live my life according to its rulings. >that the advanced brain makes the owner emotionless or lessens the >emotions- something I particularly dislike. I've always thought mackie >in particular was guided by his emotions Tom (Generic fire-and-brimstone preacher): And your emotions can bring you salvation, mah children! >(Sylia is the cool one while Mackie is bit more emotional) Ruri: And Forrest Gump is slightly less intelligent than Galileo was. Tom: Oh, by the way, Rob? You forgot the word "a" there. And Mackie should be capitalized in the last sentence. And... Crow: Don't bother. >and that's the point of view I wrote >Tales of the red KnightSabers from. Of course with Bert around, Sylia's >emotion control is dampened a wee bit Mike: Oh, of course. Don't bother to explain what you're talking about for those who've never read Bubblegum Zone! >(I think Sylia shouldn't be a >complete Icequeen). enough of my babbling and on with the friggin' show >;-) Crow: No, wait, keep babbling! Anything but the fic! > RoB PooL PReSeNTS: Crow: Didn't work... > a BGC\aDP FaNFiC: Tom: A tOrGo production of a ToRgO film... > eSPeR CHRoNiCLes: > > PaRT 3 Mike: I think Rob's caps lock must have screwed up... >Telepathy is a wonderful ability to have. Ruri: You get to know what all your friends and the person you've been dating for five years really think of you. >With it you can see directly >into the thoughts of the person you contact with and with All: ...and with and with and with and with and... >a little effort go back further into the person's past. Mike: Yeah, who cares about privacy! >What locke saw was a >variety of images from Sylia's past. Crow: Sylia and Joe, in bed, ing. Sylia and Al, in bed, ing. Sylia and Mary, in bed, ing. Sylia and... Ruri: Quiet, baka. >old friends gone and old enemies who can't stay dead. Tom (Rob): Through the actions of wonderful fanfiction authors like myself! >He could tell easily it was her- particular from >one memory in particular: Tom: What, you just repeated it twice? Come on, Rob, be a man! Ruri: If this goes on much longer, we might run out of redundancy riffs. Mike: Anyway, cue flashback... Tom: Oh, and, the first "particular" should be a "particularly". Crow: Don't bother. You'll only wear yourself out. >****************F*L*A*S*H*B*A*C*K******M*O*D*E************************* Mike: Oh, how subtle. Ruri: Nearly as subtle as a sledgehammer to the back of the head. Crow: "Nearly"? Ruri: That at least has the element of surprise. Tom: Why hasn't anyone mentioned the horrible fact that this flashback mode seems to be stuck in quicksand? Crow: Cause we don't care? Tom: Oh, that's a good reason. >She was only 15 years old and still a young girl in highschool. She was >pretty much alone: Mike: Except for her *imaginary* friends... >Danny All: Who? >had left for france and She Crow: So, is Sylia God? >only had a few friends including Priss Tom: What? Mike: Priss? As in, *the* Priss? Crow: And where in the OAVs was this mentioned? Mike: Ruri? Ruri: It's news to me too. >(author's note: I always here Tom: Hear. >ramifications >that Sylia knew priss before the sabers- I've guessed its from >high-school days). Tom: Never mind that according to some rather more believable sources than your generic wild rumours, Sylia is two or three years *older* than Priss. >It was early april 2027 and she was on her way to >her next class. Crow: Prostitution 101? Mike: Crow... >Suddenly about 6 boys of varying size and descriptions >were coming her way- Ruri: The dreaded "Cannon Fodder for our Hero" gang. >the halls were silent and all of them looked like >juvies. Mike: Juventud Guerrera's spawning? >She tried to walk a little bit faster but they were still >coming after her. Crow: Hey, can you blame them? Sylia's hot! Ruri: Not that type of coming. Get your mind out of the gutter, baka. Crow: Naah, I don't feel like it. >Before she could break into a flat run, one of the >boys- a husky black haired guy- brabbed her shoulder. Tom: Brabbed? *Brabbed*? That particular typo I don't even *know* how you get! > "where you think You're goin'?" > "what do you want?" Sylia said, sorta in a mix of frustration and >fright. Ruri: "Sorta?" As I've said before, if you're not sure, Rob, we certainly can't help you. > the boy pulled out a knife "your purse would be a good start" Crow: ...and then your dress and then your... >he said with a smile Mike: Phewwww! Ever hear of Listerine? > she took her purse off her shoulder and gave it him Tom: Um.... question... Seeing as this is Sylia, wouldn't she be more likely to kick him where-the-sun-don't-shine? Or really just anything other than meekly surrendering? Mike: Yeah, but she has to make Monkey Boy look good. Crow: Yeah, don't worry about it. Just nod and smile... >"here- now leave me alone!" Ruri: Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what those kind gentlemen are going to do. Wouldn't you all agree completely? > the Boy only grinned more "cummon boys- whatdya think? Mike: Uhh... I like the red dress better! >how about we have a little fun with girlie here?" Tom (Generic baddie in California Dreaming): Naah, let's fuck her first. > Sylia looked at the boy holding her with frightened eyes Ruri: Shouldn't he be holding her with his hands? >while the others shouted their affirmation. All: Ooh, big word. Crow: Ah, Rob found a thesaurus. He's *very* cool. >"yeah, Gregor! lets show what men we are!" said a skinny short one. Crow: Betcha he has a skinny, short... you know... thing. > another quickly quipped at the shorty "shut up Gos- Tom: Whoa, whoa! Hold on... Gos? As in Gosunkugi? As in *Hikaru* Gosunkugi? Jeez, Rob, couldn't you just stick to screwing up *one* series? Ruri: He already used Shampoo and Mousse. Tom: Yeah, but he didn't completely demolish *their* characters! Ruri: Maybe this was to make up for that? >the only way you'll ever get laid is fucking with a sexaroid" Crow (Gos): Yeah, well, you smell funny! > Sylia struggled as much as she could to get away from gregor's grip Mike: Specially available only with Pool brand tennis rackets! >but couldn't do anything Tom: Of course! After all, *Locke* has to save her pathetic female behind! >"hey, get your asses over here and hold down!" Gregor barked. Mike: Oh, I think the use of "barked" there is a very clever device to make us associate Gregor with dogs and thus show his uncouth and cur-like manner. Ruri: Actually, I think Rob's just been playing with the thesaurus again. Mike: Come to think of it, that might makes much more sense... > suddenly as the boys all held her down, Sylia braced for the worst. All: Oscar? >As Gregor unzippered himself, a hard object struck him in the head. Her >saviour of sorts barked behing them "get your fucking hands of her!" Ruri: A "hard object"? I don't suppose you could be a bit more vague there? > Gregor and his friends turned around to see a 16 year old glaring >at them. Ruri: Ladies and gentlemen, our hero. >He was about 6' Mike: A six foot... sixteen year old... in *Japan*? Yeah, right. >and wore a black t-shirt with jeans and boots. Mike: The T-Shirt was wearing jeans and boots? Crow: Just so long as he was too. I really don't need to see Monkey Boy's bare ass. >"who the fuck you think you are sommerville? cruisin' for a brusin' ?" Tom: No, I'm the *author*, you mortal fool! Haven't you been paying attention? Mike: Y'know, this dialogue is straight out of a Hong Kong Action Movie dub. >one of the boys claimed Crow: ...his top-priority parcel from Mega-Tokyo Mail. Tom: And what was in it? Crow: Rob Pool's head! Mike: Hey, hey! No riffing on the author! We don't want to get in trouble here... Crow: Um... Marrissa Picard's head? All except Ruri: Ah... now *there's* a pleasant thought... Ruri: Bakas. >and found a fist in his mouth. Crow: Mmmm... Yummy. > The boys quickly dropped Sylia to beat the hell out of the >purpetrater Tom: Rob... don't use big words unless you can spell 'em properly. *Please* Otherwise we'll be forced to ekseceut you. >of their fun. They found Themselves wrong (even before his esper powers >surfaced, Locke Ruri: ...could kill a tenth dan black belt within three minutes. >was pretty athletic and a decent boxer) Mike: Of course. After all, he's the author! >as >Locke quickly beat off the rest of Gregor's boys until only Gregor was >left. Crow: There's that poetic license again... "Quickly beating off Gregor's boys" and "Quickly getting beaten up by Gregor's boys" are *not* the same thing, Rob! Tom: "Gregor's Boys"... Wasn't that a T.V. show? Mike: If it wasn't, it probably will be. >He already took a few blows but was okay nonetheless. Tom: Barring the multiple fractures and large chunk of flesh missing from his right side. > gregor moved his knife into a combat position and charged at locke. Tom: ...and got him right through the heart. The End. Crow: Don't we wish... >Locke was able to sidestep it a little and Crow: ...with one snap of his fingers, Gregor fell apart into his base chemical constituents. Mike: Don't give Rob any ideas... >caught gregor's arm and pulled it behind his back Mike: *crack* Oh, damn! It broke off... don't you *hate* it when that happens? >and grabbed a load of gregors head. Mike: A load of Gregor's Head? He has more than one? Crow: Maybe he's like Al Snow? >Using all the force Mike: Use the Force, Locke! Tom: (deep, Darth Vaderesque breathing) >he could he banged gregor's head Mike: Hey, don't bring Mosh and Thrasher into this! >into the ground with a loud thud. Tom: No, no, no. A loud *hollow* thud. Ruri: That was Gregor's head Rob was talking about, not Locke's. Tom: Oh, sorry. My bad. >Repeatedly, Locke cracked Gregor's skull into the ground until Mike: The yolk came out. >gregor seeped into unconciousness with a small puddle of blood. Crow (Locke): Ahhhh... beating on people when they're down makes me feel like a *real* man! >Satisfied that gregor's paid in full, Mike: Though with our courts, that probably means he served the first three months of his twenty years to life sentence. Crow (Gregor): So, Mr. Godlike Author Avatar sir, would you prefer cash or credit? >Locke got up and looked over to the poor girl gregor tried to rape Crow: And then he proceeded to pick up where Gregor had left off. Ruri: Do you want to get a close look at your reserve motors, baka? Crow: Uh... sorry? >(who was huddled on the ground). Crow (Sylia): *sniff* *sniff* *gurgle* What did I do to end up in this fic? *Waaaah*! > with a voice of sincere concern "are you okay?" Tom: Yeah! I mean, a gang of ruffians just tried to rape me but, hell, that happens every day, doesn't it? > With a weak voice "I'm Okay, Thank you." Ruri: With a bored voice, "I really didn't give a damn anyway." > "that punk gregor is an asshole. Mike: Yeah, he stole my brownies! >I'm glad I was able to stop him from doing anything to you." Crow: Yeah, he'd never have given *me* a shot at it! > Sylia couldn't help but smile lightly at her saviour Tom: I could say something here with the word "Messiah" in it but I think we've made enough Self-Insertion-as-God riffs already. >"thank you. What's your name anyway?" she said trying to get up. All: I've fallen and I can't get up! > "I'm Locke and you?" as he pulled her up Crow: I'm the God of Hellfire! > "Sylia" >****************B*A*C*K********T*O*** All: ...the Future? >*****R*L************************** Crow: Right Left? Ruri: Red Lobster? Tom: Reeking Locke? Mike: Robotic Lasagna? >Locke stared blankly at the white knightsaber for a moment and Tom: ...his head got lopped off by the nearest boomer. The End. >brought himself back to his normal self. Crow (Warlock): Self thinks writer needs to learn his craft better. Tom: No, really? Next you'll be saying that Oscar is one sick and depraved lil' herm. >This all can wait til later he thinks >to himself- there was other problems at this moment. Ruri: Impressive... two different tenses and not one correct one. Tom: I thought we were going to stop the grammar riffs? Ruri: I couldn't think of anything else. >The 9 BU-12D >boomers left were still active fighting the other 5 knightsabers (each >of which were beaten in varying levels). Tom: Well, at varying *low* levels, anyway. Crow (Homer): We played Dungeons and Dragons for four hours... and then I got killed by an elf... >Bert, Mackie, and Priss were actively thrashing away with Crow: Oh, taking the Headbangers' names in vain again, are we? >a furor trying to stay alive while Linna >and Nene were still taking a tacticle Crow: (giggles) Mike: Um, I think you misread that... >fashion. The battle sight was a >combination of flying projectiles and masses of trash. Ruri (points at screen): Like this piece of starter fuel? >Through it all, Sylia was still staring at locke. Tom (Sylia): He looks just like my old boyfriend... Crow: Hey, Sylia! Boomer cannon at twelve o... *splat* Never mind. > Priss felt it her right to wake her up Crow: Sylia, honey, get off me. I mean, it's been fun and all but... Mike: Crow... Ruri: Shut up, baka. Crow: Come on! Two on one isn't fair! >"DAMN IT, SYLIA! snap out of it!" she shouted through the comlink > That did it priss thought as Sylia moved and looked around her. Crow (reporter): There are reports that a comma has escaped from incarceration in Chapter 3 of "Esper Chronicles" and is currently on the loose. Do not approach it, it is considered armed and dangerous. I repeat, it is... Tom: We heard you the first time, thanks. >"sorry, priss." sylia appologized Tom: I just can't spel dammit! Oh, there it goes again! > "its okay- but we need you in the really-real world. Crow: ...as opposed to your little dream world... You have to come back to us now, Sylia! >Boy-wonder Crow (Robin): Holy hamburger, Batman! >the boomer buster wouldn't hurt either." Tom: Actually, "boy-wonder the boomer buster" is hurting *us* tremendously at the moment. Nice try though! > Locke shifted his Tom: ...gears. Crow: *vrooom* *crash* Oh darn, he's dead. Can we get out of here now? Mike: Unfortunately, no. Crow: Damn. It was worth a try... >attention to the events around him Ruri: What, you mean he was just standing there and watching as the Knight Sabers got their asses kicked? Our hero: the ultimate nice guy. >and decided he might as well help bust the boomers up a bit. Mike: Yeah, it wasn't like he had anything *important* to do... so he could slum with the stupid little peasants for a while. >He leaped near the >nearest Bu-12D which had the luck of being in behing him. Ruri: Hmm... I beh, you beh, he behs, we beh... Mike: So, is that hickish for "to be"? Ruri: Esper Chronicles, starring the Academy Award winning Billy Bob Thornton... >It was deftly >sliced in three by kinetic-boosted chops Crow (Homer): Mmmm... Pork chops... >and the orange life-blood flowed freely from the massive wounds. Ruri: You'd think that being an all-powerful Self Insertion God-Boy, Locke could at least destroy a paltry couple of boomers without making a mess. >Meanwhile another fell to Crow: ...Locke's feet and begged him not to destroy it's miserable, unworthy metallic hide. Tom: But, being the nice author avatar that he was, Locke sliced it in half anyway. >rail spikes in its chest and particle beam burns. Crow (Mr. Burns): Excellent. >With both Locke and the >sabers working together the boomers fell with little trouble. Mike: Well, of course! I mean, *Locke* was there! >The boomers dead, All: Long live the boomer! >Sylia remembered what the 6 had come to do: Crow: Rent Batman and Robin? Ruri: Why would they want to do that? Tom: Hey, I'm sure it's better than this fanfic. Mike: Yeah, but then so is Ishtar. Tom: Realistically, there's a great many things better than this fanfic. Crow: Most of which we can't get, of course... >investigate the wreckage of the R&D building. >She turned back to the 24 year old Mike: Huh? Who? Crow: Um... Locke, I think. Ruri: Someone refresh my memory. Did Rob ever tell us Locke's age? Tom: No. Ruri: I didn't think so. >who was gone although she could see a bike ride off on the nearby >highway. Mike: I hope he's on the wrong side of the road... > bored, Mackie decided to see If they were still going in "well sis? >we going in or looking at the scragged boomers?" Tom (Sylia): No, no, no, you idiot. I broke a nail. We *can't* go in now! Mike: Ohhh, someone's going to want your head for that. Tom: Bite me. > "Just hold on a sec, mackie" she told him through the comlink. Ruri (Sylia): I have to stare at Locke in complete rapture some more. Crow (Sylia): Come on, I have to get my clothes off first... > They entered the building and took a few moments to look around. Tom (Mackie): Hmm... "Con-dem-ned" What does that mean? >They split up and Bert was the first to break the silence Crow (Bert): Um, Sylia... I need to go pee-pee... >"Skynight to sabreprime. Mike: Optimus? Tom: I wouldn't do that if I were you... Dinobot might get ticked. Mike: We should be staying away from the Fourth Wall, you know. Crow: Come to think of it, why hasn't anyone, er, dropped by yet? B: Well, since Lynx and the rest have stopped doing it over on the S.o.N., I figured I should stop too. Crow: Where'd *you* crawl out from? B: Hey, don't talk to me like that! Do you know who I am?? Tom: Yeah, you're a pathetic little drip with no love life who has *stolen* four well-copyrighted characters from exceedingly rich companies and will no doubt proceed to get his ass sued off. B: eep. Tom: Couldn't you run that spiel during the end-notes? B: (short pause) D'oh! Tom: Now get outta here! B: (meekly) Yes sir. (disappears) Crow: Good riddance. B: (reappears) Oh, I forgot. Stay away from the damned Fourth Wall! (disappears again) Mike: You think he's gone for good now? (long silence) Crow: I guess so... >I found something and I think you ALL should see this. I >think we have BIG Ruri: Big Italian Guido? Mike: Brutal Indian Grappler? Tom: Badly Irradiated Gumbo? Crow: Bedbugs Incorporated, Grenada? >problems." he mentioned through the comlink > "K skynight. we'll get there in a sec" Mike (Sylia): We just have to do our hair first... and I have to get this nail fixed! > Sylia looked at the message scrawled across the wall and slapped a >hand over her head. This is unbelievable All except Ruri: Anything can happen in the WWF! >and impossible! Ruri: And the fact that it's happening serves to explain why it's impossible. >I destroyed brian's brain! Crow: Ah yes, but Brian's brain... wouldn't die! Mike: Gah! That brings back bad memories... (shivers) >she thought to herself while the other sabres were >groaning and sighing in variating amounts. Crow (Linna): Oh, Nene! Ohhh! Ohhh! Tom (Nene): Ahhhh! Ohhh! Ahhh! Bert, consider yourself dumped... Ruri: So many bakas... > "lets go. I need to talk to fargo...." Tom: North Dakota? Crow: Dakota North? Tom: No, no, no. North Dakota. Crow: Oh, okay. Ruri: Right. Mike: Ignore them. I do. >Wensday, December 18, 2033 Ruri: When someone can't even spell the days of the week properly, I think we should be worried... >5:00 pm Mike: Do you know where your children are? > Work was brisk for Locke and the R&D case was going no where. Tom: What, he *still* hasn't found that personally autographed greeting card from Largo? >Christmas a week away, which made Locke feel a bit lonely. Crow: Yup, it was just him and his pet sheep... >Most of his family was over in america Ruri: So why couldn't he be over there with them? Tom: Or better yet, why couldn't he have have been lost along the way? >while his Folks were dead. Crow: Couldn't they have died a few years earlier? Saaay, before *his* conception? >His Mother died Mike: ...of shame when she gave birth to a horrible monster. >when he was young of natural reasons Ruri: Namely a bullet to the cranium? >while his father's death was more >of a mystery. He was among the original boomer scientific team with DR. >Stingray Tom: *Sure* he was... Crow (Locke): ...and I was the President of the Universe and Lord and Master of all that lives! >and like dr. stingray, died in a so-called lab accident. Ruri: But which was actually an insidious plot by the evil Dr. Fu Manchu. Mike: Somehow, that wouldn't suprise me, at the rate this thing's going... >When >he returned from training in china All: (groan) Tom: If the word "jyusenkyou" appears *anywhere* in this little horror, I'm going to stab myself. Mike: Um, you're a robot. Tom: Well, of course! I'm not *that* desperate! >(author's note: in addition to loving BGC, I have a thing for Ranma too. Crow: Especially for the female one... >I thru this in for fun just >in case anyone was wondering. and no! he has no jusenkyo curse :) Mike: Well, thank God for small favours. Tom: What, he *doesn't*? I dunno, Rob, I'm not sure that a character without a jyusenkyou curse is enough for you... >Thinking back to the events of last monday night, All except Ruri: On RAW! >he thought he might >as well make up good for taking Sylia to dinner. Ruri: I guess Sylia finally realized what a worthless piece of her would-be boyfriend was. >Knightsabers fooey. All: (laugh) Mike: Oh, great! Really mature phrasing there, Locke! Crow: Yeah! But you leave KFF out of this! >Everyone- even him- had secrets. Ruri: Strong enough for a man, but made for a self insertion. >Its was obvious that Sylia recieved >the info on the hardsuits before her father's death. That doesn't >matter he thought. Tom: Yeah, it isn't about Locke, so *of course* it doesn't matter. >He picked up the vidphone and dialed the number he >recieved from her monday Mike: Her girl Monday? Crow: D'you think people in 2033 have their own personalized weekdays? Ruri: If they did, then they got rid of them over the next few centuries. >and noticed Sylia's suprised look when she noticed locke's face. Crow (Sylia): Oh, damn! And here I was hoping it was my darling Priss-chan! > "Hi There." locke said with a smirk Ruri: He certainly seems to smirk a lot. Tom: Well, at least this fic hasn't been to a Bargain Basement Smile Sale, like that Nuku-Nuku story a certain extremely *good* MSTer sent us had. (Suddenly, a bolt of lightning strikes Tom square in the head.) Tom: Er... sorry? > "hi. so- what did you call for?" Mike (Locke): Um... can I... test some of your lingerie? > "If your not busy, I was going to ask you if you were interested in >going to dinner?" Crow (Sylia): No, I'm afraid Priss is already taking me out today... Mike: Crow... that's enough. Crow: Oh, bite me. Tom: It's gettin' old buddy... No more lesbian jokes. Crow: But doesn't the very idea of four women with absolutely no close male contacts other than their leader's teenaged brother just beg them? Mike: No, it doesn't. Crow: Ruri, you have anything to add to this discussion? Ruri: No comment. > Sylia couldn't help the smile pulling on her lips Tom: (Sylia): Ow! That hurts! Crow: Which lips? Mike: Crow! Crow: Actually, you're right... Mike: Good Crow. Crow: ...I mean, everyone seems to use that riff. Mike: Um, that's not exactly what I meant... >"sure" turning a little more serious "you know don't you?" Crow (Locke): That you're really a man? Sure... but I don't mind! Mike: Crow... Crow: Hey, I stopped with the you-know-what jokes, didn't I? > "yes" he said flatly "It changes nothing between us, okay?" Crow: Now let's get back to that you-know-whating in the wink-wink business... > "okay- thanks." > Locke smiled kindly Ruri: Like a lion eyeing a juicy antelope? >"you have to thank me for. Ruri: I think yet more of those words you've been cruelly holding hostage escaped from you, Rob... >I'll be there at 7:00 sharp. Dress in something decent." Mike: Umm... Locke, this is *Sylia*. If you ever see her in leather or something, just shoot yourself. Tom: Actually, you could just shoot yourself regardless... > "see ya then." Crow: No, let's not and say we did. > Locke hung of the phone and wondered into his bedroom which had >clothes laying haphazardly on the floor along with everything else. Tom: Oh, there's Elvis' right hand! Mike: And there're some bits of the Roswell wreckage! Ruri: And isn't that the script to Star Wars Episode One? Crow: That over there looks like an autographed copy of Action Comics #1... >He waded through the mess and looked into closet pulling out some >formal wear and Ruri: ...exhuming an old pot roast. >a pair of nice dress shoes and marched into the bathroom to >take a shower and get ready. All except Ruri: ...to suck it? > "so. what do you think?" sylia asked Mackie and Bert, who were >playing with some hardsuit parts. Crow: The special attachments for those... lonely nights... >When they looked up at her both were >in varying stages of staring (Mackie was trying hard not to >using emotional controls of his mind Tom: Um... shouldn't he be trying hard to use those rather than *not* use them? Ruri: Not in Rob's version of the English language, he shouldn't. >while Bert kept reminding himself what >Nene would do if she heard that he stared at Sylia longily *lorraina >Bobbit*). Mike: Couldn't she just do it to Locke instead? Crow: Ahhh... what a pleasant thought... (A sweet, beautiful melody plays through the theater.) All: (sigh happily) Tom: Oh, if only we never had to wake up from such a dream... >She was wearing a nice dress of dark blue silk that showed of >a bit her long legs Crow: (drooling) Rrrrr.... Ruri: Can someone please explain to me how a robot can drool? >while leaving a bit of cleavage for her shoulders >and chest. Mike: Ruri, do most women have cleavage on their shoulders? Cause I haven't met any but I figure you'd be the expert here... Ruri: Not that I know of. > "you look like you're ready to go on date. Who's the lucky bum?" Tom: "bum"? So, is it a charity date? >Bert blurted out. Mike: Ewww! Did you have to, Bert? Yuck! > "Locke- the guy we met at the Neokatten." Ruri: So, this idiot can't even keep the names of his earlier creations straight? > Mackie looked at her crediously Mike: Sorry? Tom: Um... gullibly, right? As in, "credulously"? Mike: I think he meant *in*credulously, actually... Tom: Well, couldn't he say that then? Ruri: Doesn't look that way, does it? >"you kidding!? That guy probally knows who all of us are!" > "He does. and I know that he'll keep us secret." Crow (Sylia): Yeah, cause *whoo-boy* do I have some nasty stuff hanging over his head! > bert butted "how can you be so sure?" Ruri (Sylia): I read the script, of course. > "I know he won't. well, I have a date to go to." Mike (Sylia): So, if you have any other important questions about the security of our organization then *tough*! I've got to go and be out of character! > The door bell rang and Sylia opened it to see a well-dressed >version of Locke Sommerville. Ruri: As opposed to the usual bag-man model. >She had always known him dress in jeans >and boots but this was different. Mike: Now he was dressed in a ballgown and stilleto heels. >here stood a guy who wore a black >blazer and matching slacks along with a white dress short, Tom: Short? Mr. B. Natural! NOOOOOOO! (collapses into tears) Mike: There, there, Tom... It's okay... You don't have to deal with that horror any more. Tom: *sniff* Thanks, Mike... >black tie, >and a pair of decent dress shoes. The only thing that wasn't too formal Mike: ...was his pink and green polka-dot underwear, as worn on the outside. >was the dark blue head band that held up his hair, which looked like he >actually it has combed for once. Sylia couldn't help but giggle a bit. Mike (Sylia): *tee hee hee* Don't ask me, I'm just a girl! > "hi ya. I see you like the suit." Ruri: I had to murder a powerful crimelord to get it... Crow: In fact, there he is right now! Saaaay, can you deal with him for me? I've got to... uh... go the little boy's room. Yeah, that's it... > "I swear, I've never seen you in a suit or even close to it." Ruri: Maybe he has an allergic reaction to formal wear? Tom: Hopefully a fatal one... > "well. you look ravishing- Tom (Rick Rude): Yeah, well, what I would like is for you fat... lazy... out of shape... self insertion idiot... Ruri: ...to die bloody? Tom: Not exactly what I had in mind, but, hey, it works for me! >would like to go now? The tab is running on teh taxi." > "taxi?" Mike: You know, a car that you get driven around in for a fare, usually with a sociopathic driver who spends his spare time running his version of the Bates Motel? > "I only ride a Bike. Tom (Locke): Actually, a trike. No, wait, I shouldn't have said that... >I figured you didn't want to on a back of I bike so Ruri: I don't suppose you could translate that into a comprehensible language, Rob? >I came by Taxi." > "okay-lets go." Mike: You know, in good writing, every single interlude and section of dialogue has a point... Crow: Thus, this isn't good writing. We knew that already. > > The two reached the restaraunt: the Cafe Majere at 7:30 and Locke Tom: What, you mean Monkey boy already has a *street* named after him? Ruri: I don't think so. Tom: Oh, I get it! 7:30's the *time* when they arrive! I thought 7:30th street sounded sort of strange... >paid the Taxi his nuyen. Looking around, one could see the cafe was Crow: A run-down doghouse? >rather formal. Sylia wondered if Locke could even afford it. Mike: No, but he's sure hoping that *you* can! >The decor was well-done and the other occupants were dressed in Ruri: Shabby looking animal furs. >varying ranges of >formal wears from tuxs and evening gowns to simple blazers & jeans and >dresses. Mike: Hopefully not all on the same person. >Locke approached the front desk were a young lady in a dress Tom: The front desk was a young lady? My God, how horrible! >was taking reservations. Crow (Locke, to girl): Well, could I reserve you for... say, next Sunday? Oh, and could you bring extra leather? > "excuse me, I have a reservation for tonight." Crow: A threesome? Ooh, kinky! > "and your name, sir?" > "Locke Sommerville." Tom: Boomer Basher extraordinaire, Author Avatar par excellence! > "oh, yes sir, we have your reservation right here. Mike (Waitress): The boss will be calling up the first of your "favours" in a few days. Crow: Good one, Mike! Mike: What are you talking about, Crow? I didn't... (thinks for a second) Uhhh... maybe that didn't quite come out right... Ruri: Baka. >Is there any table in particular you wanted to sit at?" Tom (Locke): No, just so long as you sit in my lap. > "hm. maybe something by a window would be fine." Ruri (Locke): But I'm not quite sure... > "okay, sir. We have a seat by the window. I'll have a maitr'd with >you in just a moment." Mike: Hopefully, she's actually going to call the bouncer. > less than a minute later the two were escorted to a table which, as >locke requested, was by a window which gave a beautiful view of Crow: ...the local slum. >a nearby park. Within moments, they were greeted by their waitress. Tom: ...who shot Locke in the head and then ran amok in a violent orgy of blood and destruction. The End. > "hello and welcome to the cafe Majere. I'm Rook and I'll be your >waitress tonight." Crow (Rook): Please don't touch me there, sir. >Rook says as she passes her customers a pair of >menus. Tom (Rook): Our special today is Irish Stew... made from real Irishmen! >"while you look over the menu, is there anything you'd like to >drink in the meantime?" Ruri (Locke): I'll have a glass of pure virgin's blood, please. Mike (Sylia): Well, do you have anything extremely poisonous for my friend there? > "I'll take a martine. Crow: (Sylia): What?? Two-time me, will you?!? >how about you Sylia?" > "I'll take a strawberry dackery" Tom: Daiquiri. Mike: Cut down on the spelling riffs, Tommy... Tom: Hey, I didn't see *you* coming forth with a witty and entertaining comment there! > "thank you. I'll get your drinks in a sec from the bar." Crow: Actually, we'd prefer to have them in glasses, if it's okay with you. Tom: La-ame... Crow: Hey, I couldn't think of anything else! Anyway, after that last riff *you're* really one to talk! >Rook mentioned as she left for the bar. Mike: Tryin' to escape, is she? > Glancing up and down the menu, Sylia couldn't what she wanted. Ruri (Sylia): Dammit, all of this looks so foul. >The >list included various steaks and seafood, as well as some different >foods from various countries. Mike: Feel free to not elaborate, Rob. >After a few moment their waitress returned. "have made your choices yet?" > "I'll have the stuffed lobster. Crow: You do realize that it's stuffed with sawdust, don't you Locke? >how about you, Sylia?" Mike (Sylia, girlish): Oh, sorry... I was just staring into your beautiful eyes... *tee hee* > "hmm. I'll have the steak- Ruri: Bloody as hell or Burnt to a crisp? >well done, please." Mike: Sure thing. Hey, Luigi, bring out a couple of those giant rats, will ya? > "okay, I got it done. Crow: Yeah, teach, I had the homework done... but then my dog ate it... >I'll get you your food ASAP." Ruri: As Soon As it Putrifies? > The waitress was gone and the two were left to talk it over. Mike (Locke): Sylia, I want to tell you that Jane and I have been seeing each other behind your back. Also, I've got a date with Marianne tonight, hopefully without Jane knowing. Oh, and *I* killed your lover. Oh, and, also, I know about you and Will. >The two broke into stories: Mike: Once upon a time there were three little pigs, and then one went berserk and started killing things, and he ate one of the others, and the third ran away and became a vegetarian and... Tom: Okay, okay! You can stop now... Ruri: How did you manage to say that without pause? Mike: Hmmm... I guess all these fanfics must be getting to me... Crow: We know how you feel... >Locke about training in china and some of the >more memorabal runs the KS made plus some talk of old times. Crow: Why would Locke know about any of the Sabers' business? Tom: I think that second part was supposed to be Sylia's. Crow: Couldn't Rob say that, then? Ruri: Judging by this fic, I'm surprised he can spell his own name properly. Mike: Anyway, didn't we agree on no more grammar riffs? Tom: Maybe, but that was so confusing it *deserved* to be riffed. >Since Dumas was gone, Mike: ...there would never be a sequel to the Three Musketeers. Tom: What about the Man in the Iron Mask? Ruri: And Twenty Years After? Crow: And The Vicomte de Bragelonne? Tom: And Louise de la Valliere? Crow: And... Mike: Oh, forget it. You just took all the fun out of that riff. >she was glad that she could have another relationship. Tom: Sylia, a relatshionship with a drowned squirrel would be better for you than one with Monkey Boy... > With dinner done, Locke called for Rook and paid the bill with his >creditcard and told her to take a 500% tip for herself. Ruri: ...and then use it to get thoroughly drunk on the bad side of town. >After calling >the taxi, the two were at the door to Sylia's house. Tom: Wouldn't they have had to actually get into the taxi and get driven there first? Crow: Don't bother to think about it, you'll only give yourself a headache. > "guess I'll see you later." Tom (Sylia): Like hell you will! You ever come within five feet of me again and you're *dead*! > "I hope so" she said with a slight smile Mike: Well, if it's only a "slight" smile, she can't like him *that* much. >"you better had!" Tom: Huh? I swear, if this goes on much longer this thing'll reach Thinkerian levels of incoherence! > "'course I will." he said, sweeping up sylia in a light kiss. All: (shudder) Tom: My God, isn't just completely destroying her character *enough* for you?? Ruri: I didn't need to see that... Crow: Mike, I'm scared... Mike: We all are, Crow, we all are. > "later." and with that, he was off for home. Tom: Unfortunately, he didn't realize it was about to be air-bombed. Mike: Feeling dark today, are we? Tom: It's this fic... I'm trying to hold it back but... but I just can't! >At her apartment, Sylia was entering the door. Ruri: That's certainly a big door. Crow: So, Mike when'd they introduce the hollow door onto the market? Mike: Got me. Ruri? Ruri: (shrugs) I must have missed that particular fad. >It was 9:43 on her watch Tom: Which had, mind you, stopped several years ago. >and the apartment was empty >(mackie is still playing with the hardsuits) Crow: He must be *really* desperate, even more so than Mike. Mike: Hey! Crow: What, you're telling me you wouldn't really want to have a you-know what with a you-know-who after being stuck up here for years? Mike: (turns bright red) Er, well... I refuse to answer that question. >and she decided to go to sleep. Stripping off the dress, Crow: Nice view there. >she flopped in bed and waits for unconciousness to take her. Tom: I guess anything's better than this fic, huh? >end of part 3. Mike: And thank Belldandy for that! Come on, everyone... >more author notes: Crow: Oh no there isn't! (All exeunt) [Insert reversed door sequence here. -B] Crow stood alone in the darkened Satellite bridge, his shoulders slouched, his melancholy plainly visible. An empty coffin stood in front of him, and he kneeled over it sadly. "Why, oh, why did he have to go?" he asked noboby-in-particular plaintively, "he was so young and strong and annoying! Oh, Lord, you should have taken me instead!" He sniffed theatrically before continuing, "Oh, the world is a dark and lonely place..." Suddenly, Tom Servo, dressed in a green jogging jacket (whatever *that* is), a plaid shirt and blue jeans, (Well, a jean skirt actually, seeing as he didn't have any legs, but one shouldn't quibble.) floated into the room. Crow looked up at him, "Oh my God! It must be... yes, it is! It's *you*! The Ghost of Pat Lee! "Yes," said Tom, "it is I! I have come to this place from the deep, dark, realm of Hell to inform you that you must not cry over my passing!" "But, Pat!" Crow cried out dramatically, "with you gone, my life has no meaning! Who else can I insult and hate? Actually, I guess there are a lot of other candidates but..." "Crow..." Tom muttered quietly, "You're breaking character!" "Oh, sorry!" Crow replied, "Um... Who else can I insult and hate? Oh, the World is so very, very, treacherous! Oh, alas, woe is me!" "Oh, you must forget me!" Tom said, "for I have gone to on to a much worse place! I am in the Burning Wastes of Hell, where I deserve to be!" "But..." Crow protested. "No buts, my friend!" Tom said, "what is done is done! Everything dies! You must not mourn my passing but instead take joy in that which is still alive!" "Yes, yes, you are right!" Crow called out joyously, "thank you, oh Ghost of Pat Lee! I shall never forget you!" And so, Tom Servo floated away, his work done... Seconds later, Mike and Ruri moved into the room, clapping heartily. "Excellent, excellent!" Mike proclaimed, "Such character, such vivacity! Ms. Ruri, did we get that?" Ruri nodded, and gave the universal A-OK sign, "Yes sir." "Wonderful, wonderful! I... oh, hold on, the Killer Bees are calling." * * * Luckily, this time around, the choice of nickname was not in error, as it was indeed Scraebor, dread Leader of the Great Insect Race and soon to be Ruler and Overlord of all Earth (TM) who greeted them. "Ah, hello, Humans and, erm, stupid metal things. I just wished to inform you that the search for the green one is poroceeding on schedule and we will soon, no doubt, be able to continue with our plan to take over your world." He looked down at a chained up T.V.'s Frank, he stood behind him, "Isn't that right, slave?" "Oh, yes, oh beloved Lord and Master." Frank replied with the proper subservience. "Good boy!" Scraebor nodded, "you'll get a cookie for that!" Another Jumbo-sized insect scuttled into the room, bearing important tidings for his ruler. Unlike Scraebor though, he wasn't important enough to deserve a name, he was merely Yet Another Nameless Drone. "Lord," started Nameless, "the search is stalled... We have looked everywhere, the refrigerator, the freezer, the ice-box, the kitchen..." "What? What do you mean, Drone?" Scraebor said harshly. "Well, me and the guys are sorta stuck on this matter, sir. Do you suppose by any chance that you could give us any further idea where it could be?" asked Nameless. Scraebor placed a claw to his foreheadin an obvious gesture of annoyance, "I don't suppose you've considered looking anywhere *other* than the kitchen for it?" "Er, well, no..." Nameless replied. "Fools..." Scraebor started. Suddenly, these important matters stopped, as an angry and very human voice, belonging to one Dr. Clayton Forrester, spoke. "Ah, foul vermin, your reign of terror is about to *end*!" Nameless looked at the source of the voice and then said, "We've found it, sir." Scraebor nodded. "So I see. Uh, I think you fleshling--and metalling--fools can get back into the theater. Send them the fanfic, slave." At Scraebor's urging, T.V.'s Frank pressed the appropriate button and so... * * * "We've got FANFIC SIIIIIGN!" Door 6: It's a deviously hidden door, invisible to the naked eye. At least it's supposed to be. You find it within three seconds and walk through. Door 5: It's a plain wooden door. You walk through it... right into a brick wall. You take the wall apart, brick by brick, to walk through. Door 4: It's a foreboding, securely locked iron gate. You open the doggie door and squeeze through. Door 3: It slides open with a hiss of pneumatic locks... and starts to close immediately after. You leap through just as it does. Door 2: It's a large Egyptian sarcophagus. You hire a world-famous archeologist to open it. Door 1: It's a large double door that opens inwards into the theater. >hello and all that. here's part four of the esper chronicles for >whoever actually likes it (A vast, pervading silence fills the theater) >other than the author's of the two fanfics >I draw from for past events which set up the story. Mike: Personally, I like to think that even *they* are just humouring you... >Thanks again to >Mark Latus and Bert van vliet for writing Tokyo-babylon and bubblegum >Zone respectively. Ruri: Oh, yes thank you so very much for inspiring this guy to write this foul, fetid piece of crap. Your checks are in the mail. >remember that this story has no impact on the BGC continum Tom: I should bloody well hope it doesn't! Mike: Whoa, down boy, *down boy*! >or the other fanfics unless someone actually wants it to be >for some strange, demented reason. Crow: Yes, yes, we know you are, Rob but... Oh, wait, he wasn't talking about himself there, was he? >MAJOR CONTINUITY SCREW-UP: Ruri (Rob): I have just realized that Sylia is totally out of character in this fanfic. I want to apologize for it and to say that if any of you expect me to change a thing, then screw you. >when I wrote Tales #3, I never expected Brian to get scragged (or at >least not that friggin' fast) into the 5th part of Tokyo-babylon. Crow: What's he talking about? Mike: Got me. I never read that particular fic... >In >tales, I included a blurb at the end with mr. mason himself but I see >I can't do that.... >So I'll just use largo instead :) Tom: What, you mean you *weren't* going to use him in the first place? My God, I'm almost... impressed... Ruri: Isn't bringing back Brian Mason even more wrong than bringing back Largo? After all, he doesn't even have the excuse of a boomer allowing him to be recreated. >hope nobody's irritated by this. Mike: Buddy, if we let little things like *that* get to us, we'd be far worse off than we are! >It does kinda suck to do into the 4th part of the >story- but hey. Largo kicks ass Crow (Cartman): Kickass, man! >(and he definitly will in this ep). That aside, let the show begin.... Tom: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages... let's get ready to... All except Ruri: SUCK IT! > RoB PooL PReSeNTS: > > a BGC\aDP FaNFiC: Tom: Co-starring Manos' very own Torgo! Mike: Isn't one Torgo joke per MST enough? Tom: Yeah, but just *try* and tell me it isn't obvious. > eSPeR CHRoNiCLeS > > PaRT FouR: Crow: The Final Chapter! Tom: I sure hope so... > >It was early friday morning in Mega-Tokyo. Crow: And everyone was preparing to go to Club Anime!. Mike: I think Nightbreak would be the only person to get that riff. Crow: Yeah, but obscure riffs are *good*! >To the mundane corporate wage slave Ruri: Ah, the writer shows his huge amount of respect for his audience. >all that was on their minds was finishing of the day and Mike: ...going home to their loving and abusive spouses and loving and vastly annoying children. >maybe go home to the family and maybe spend time waiting for christmas, Tom: ...and maybe go slice up a couple of low-lifes somewhere who'd never really be missed... >which was less than a week away. How little did they truly know Crow: ...that I, the Author, had other ideas... >what >would happen today was anything but the serene peace the holidays >usually bring with it. Ruri: For "Esper Chronicles" was preparing for filming. Crow: Ominous drumroll, please. >Far to the outskirts of the city was an area >known respectively as the 'barrens' Ruri: The Pine Barrens? Crow: Hey, that's an idea! D'you suppose the Jersey Devil could make a cameo and *eat* Locke? >(I think another name was used in >the past but I have such a short memory :). Mike: Yeah, well, a good memory is not the only thing you're missing, my friend... >Here, the down-troden homeless of the megatokyo area ocuppied the >crumbling buildings that were once a vital part of the city that once >occupied the land of megatokyo. Tom: Whoa... I'm getting dizzy... Ruri: That sentence was verging on a run-on. Crow: Just "verging"? Ruri: Verging. There's only one idea there. It's just extremely confusing. >Now, it was being used for a different reason- Tom: Yeah, the down-trodden homeless peons showing everyone the complete failure of capitalism were occupying it. You told us already. >a base for a man once known to the world as one Brian Mason. Mike: One Brain Mason, out of a complete total of seventy three possible Brian Masons! >But that man was dead to his succesor a long time ago. Mike: But he was alive to everyone else? >It didn't suprise him at all that the accursed knight sabers Ruri: ...and their dog? Crow: You mean Locke? Ruri: Well, no. But that's an interesting idea. Mike: Actually, I think that Mackie fits that description better. Crow: True. >finally killed him for good with the help of a >mercenary group. Mike: Um... hold on. Brian Mason was killed in BGC OAV number 3. Wasn't screwing up Sylia's character enough for you? Or do you have to destroy the series' continuity too? Tom: Come on, we all *know* that merely writing someone to be out of character can't possibly be enough for an enterprising writer like Rob! Mike: Hey, no riffing on the author! >To him that was the past and that could wait, the >present and his future was what mattered now. Crow: He wanted some burgers, dammit! *NOW*! >Revenge would be his this day.... Mike: Hey, you can't do that! It belongs to Jamie Jeans! > Largo glanced around him in the complex he had spent the last >several months to build. Tom: It was the largest shopping centre in the World! Bwahahahaha! Ruri: Yes, finally, Largo had found a task that was up to his great ability and conquering spirit. >With sheer willpower, he was able to restore >his systems to full strength and Tom: Right, *sure* he was. Ruri: Rob, that takes more than mere willpower. Crow: Yeah, you need *energy* and *machinery* and little things like that... Believe me, I know from experience. >escape the genom R&D several months >ago before the scientists could discover just who Mike: ...had stolen the all-important cheese steaks. >the broken boomer was that they found in the ruins. Crow: Bill Clinton? Ruri: Not that type of boomer. Mike: Besides judging by his little, er, "escapades", he ain't particularly broken. >He decided that this time he would need >more than just stolen combat boomers at his side. Mike: He'd need the entire Twenty-fifth cavalry! Crow: (imitates bugle call) Ruri: Actually, wouldn't the Light Brigade be more appropriate? >This time his goal of genocide on the pathetic creatures Mike: The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed Up Zombies? Tom: Hey, no stealing from MWT3k! Mike: What are you talking about? Crow: Lynxara and company used that in ASADAE part 4. Mike: They did? Tom: Well, our MSTer wrote this riff in before he read that, so who cares? (Suddenly, the theater darkens and a low rumbling starts to sound.) Tom: Oops, sorry. We'll stay away from the Fourth Wall now. (As suddenly as they went off, the lights in the theater return.) >humanity had become would need other sentient boomers like himself. >With classified computer files Ruri: The really important ones about the laundry and breakfast menus. >he had managed to download from the R&D computers and Ruri: ...a hell of a lot of duct tape and chewing gum... >materials he was able to cultivate, Mike: Read: steal. Crow: Like Rob did to half of the material in this fanfic? Mike: Basically. >Largo was able to create a some-what limited boomer factory. Tom: Producing state of the art boomers for all your household needs! Mike: They slice, they dice, they pare apples! Crow: They even have a built-in egg-timer! Ruri: Available now at all fine merchandising outlets. >Within only a couple weeks he had an army of sentient combat boomers Tom: Um, Largo, three half-formed boomers and a broken robotic dog are *not* an army. >at his beck and call. Crow (Largo): Okay, you... pleasure me! Tom (Largo): Ahhh... someone get the honey out of the cupboard... Crow (Generic Boomer): My God, I didn't know it could go down that far! Mike: That's enough, guys... Ruri: Bakas. >All created to serve largo and his plots Ruri: To mow them and make sure they were green and pleasant. >all born to destroy the humans, all born to destroy. Crow: ...the humans. All born to destroy the humans. All born to... >In addition to combat boomers, largo created various boomers for other jobs: Mike: Toilet-cleaning boomers? Tom: Beer-swilling redneck boomers? Ruri: Juvenile delinquent boomers? Crow: Streetwalker boomers? >mainly as >scientist resonsible for creating more boomers for the boomer army and Mike: ...for going on strike and demanding more money. Crow: No, no, no. That would be "teachers". Mike: Oops. >as Generals to command the soldiers. Tom: Okay... Now, you, do a pirouette! And you, do a jette! >Of these generals were 5 superboomers of lesser design Mike: They didn't have those cool eyes like Largo did! >(unlike largo, these superboomers were >created from AI and not from thoughts of a human mind) Ruri: So, is Rob an AI? Crow: If so, then I'm ashamed to be mechanical... >each created as the soldiers to obey him without question- Ruri: Even if he asks for a foot massage? >to give their life if it >meant it would save the life of their leader. Mike: Sorry, Largo, but seeing as you're already in this fanfic, I think you're beyond saving. Crow: Unless of course you choose to violently and painfully kill Locke within the next few pages. >Within 6 months his army >was now 50 members strong and today who would test them to a show of >force. Mike: Jim Neidhart's certainly getting a lot of jobs, isn't he? >By the end of the day the city of megatokyo would be his.... Tom: Um, right you're gonna take over MegaTokyo with a great army composed of fifty boomers. I'm *so* scared. > The complex was designed by his formost scientist, Trulain, Mike: Trulain Highway? Crow: Why bother to give boomers names? I mean, unlike us wisecracking, sardonic yet loveable Bots, they're just personality-free lumps of metallic Saber fodder. >and was >built, altho hidden to the outside, as an ancient castle on the inside. Ruri: Why? Has largo been reading to much Mervyn Peake? >To any visitor, the place would look quite gothic. Mike: You don't suppose Largo has been taking all the vampire stuff from his first episode too seriously? >The building itself was once a hotel of a famous sort Tom (Rob): You, know, with rooms and beds and stuff... >then (obviously so by its then 78 floors) before the kanto quake >struck and destroyed some of the floors and damaged the foundations >somewhat. Tom: And the reason we should care about all this is? >Trulain's first duty was to repair the foundations Mike: The Hart Foundation and the New Foundation? Ruri: Maybe "Foundation", "Foundation and Empire" and "Second Foundation"? >and then some of the damaged floors. Ruri: Like the wooden one and the all-important crazy-paving one. >With a troop of construction boomers at his command, Tom: Oh, those must be the beer-swilling redneck boomers I mentioned! >It was but a few weeks before the hotel was fit to be renovated. Mike: So, to take over MegaTokyo, Largo's insidious plot was to open a hotel franchise? Tom: No wonder he keeps getting defeated by the Sabers. >Taking various materials from different sites, Mike: There's some more of that patented, thorough, Rob Pool description! >The complex had become a work of art not to mention safe. Crow: Yeah, but why should the overlord of the powerful, superhuman boomer race care about aesthetics? >Largo had made it particularly clear to trulain that he desired Ruri: A teddy bear. >to have the complex shield outside from particle sattelites above. Tom: Ohhh... My eyes are starting to hurt... Mike: You don't have eyes. Tom: Yeah, I know. That's the strange thing. >With in time, Mike: As opposed to out time? >largo thought to himself that he'd have to get access to the >sattelites someday, Mike: You know, I could swear that the writing in this fic has gotten even *worse* than it was at first... Tom: And it certainly never was Booker Prize material... >but he had learned from his past actions and that >of his predecessor not to Rush All: (shudder) Crow: Hey, don't profane! >into things. Rushing in his quest for power had only brought him defeat. Tom: Who's feet? Others: *groan* >This time the odds were in his corner, Mike: And ladies and gentlemen, accompanied to the ring by the odds, is the challenger, Mr. "I am about to get my ass whipped", Laaaaargoooo! >his army was strong and his body Ruri: ...odour was stronger. >more powerful by far than ever before. > All of this he recited to himself in deep thought Mike: With Jack Handy? >looking through >the windows in his throne room of sorts. Ruri: ...of the dilapidated sorts. >The throne was not descript as well as the room itself Tom: What, now Rob's giving us commentary on his writing? >except for its size (50x50 meters at least) Mike: Whoa, Largo must have gained one hell of a fat ass! >and the red Ruri: Skull? >crimson carpet. Tom: Well, *some*one certainly has an ego problem. Mike: Other than Locke? Tom: Well, yeah. I guess Locke would make Largo look like the very essence of humility. >in the far reaches of the wall were windows >that gave an interesting view of the city. Ruri: It resembled a cross between a Goya and a Picasso. Crow: Actually, you could see the dirty back alley behind the secret hideout, and everything else was hidden by the skyscraper beside it. >Even from this far away, he could easily see the top of Genom archology >as well as several other buildings that ripped into the clouds. Mike: Hey, what did the clouds ever do to you? Tom: Maybe they heckled? Ruri: What? Tom: Oh, wait, we already used up our quota of obscure riffs, didn't we? >His Mus Mike: Mallahelicon? >ing were interrupted when someone from behind him called to him. Mike (to Largo): My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. > "sir?" Tom: The donuts have arrived! > Largo turned his attention back to the here and now of the present Crow: Ooooh, presents? For *me*? >and turned to look at who had interrupted his thoughts. Tom (Largo): What do you want, cur? >The young man, >as he was created to be, was a skinny boy named tetsuya who served as >one of Largo's generals. Mike: Whoa, whoa! Time out! Now maybe it's just me but... (to others) Uh, is it just me? Others: (shake their heads) Mike: Didn't think so. Okay, so, why the heck would Largo, in creating one of his ultra-powerful superboomer generals to help take over the world, make him a skinny boy? Cause, I dunno, maybe we're all a bit slow but that just doesn't seem to make any sense... >The boy had short black hair combed into a bang to left of his head Mike: Shouldn't his hair actually be *on* his head? >while he wore a dark green suit with black boots. Ruri: ...and hot pink trousers. Mike: Also known as the Colin Baker memorial uniform. >Obviously, Tetsuya was somewhat nervous for some reason. Crow: Maybe he crashed Largo's car? > "yes, tetsuya?" Largo commened with little hint of emotion. Tom (Tetsuya): Well, man, you know that, like, tapedeck you lent me? It's sorta had a, like, you know, accident... > "miriya asked me to tell you that the soldiers are Ruri: Small? >nearly ready and at your command, sir." Mike (Largo): Oh, go away! I'm lacquering my fingernails. > "good. Tell me, tetsuya. Tom (Largo): What's a fifteen letter, two word phrase for crap? >What's bothering you?" Tom (Tetsuya): I peed in my pants... Crow (Tetsuya): I've been a bad little boomer... > "nothing, sir-" > "something is bothering you tetsuya. Ruri: The lack of capitalisation, maybe? >If you can't tell me, remember I trust you to lead my soldiers into >combat." Mike: Translation: I trust you to get completely humiliated by the Knight Sabers and then come back to me so I can insult your pathetic attempt at defeating them before I go and get walloped myself. > "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean it as an insult." the boy apologised >as he glanced at his boots, in mixed shame. Mike: Mixed shame and...? Tom: Shame, mixed with nuts in a tangy lemon sauce! > "of course, not. now, will you tell me what is bothering you?" Ruri: Well, I personally am hoping it's the capitalisation, because it's sure as hell bothering me. > "I don't know. Tom: Cue the green slime. >Maybe its just the fact that today is the ultimate Mike: Evil? Tom: Warrior? Ruri: Foe? Crow: Fighting Championship? >step to reach our glory- Mike: Hey, all you have to do is go to a video store! >I hope only that I can earn you a victory over the humans." Tom: Oh, don't worry. We all know that you won't! Crow: Yeah, after all, *Monkey Boy* is on the other side! Mike: And bad guys *never* win! Except in real life, of course, but who cares about *that*? > placing a light grip on his general's shoulder Tom (Largo): *crick* Damn, it came out again! Ruri: Don't you hate it when that happens? >largo reassured his servant Ruri (Largo): Don't worry, I won't blame you when you screw up. Mike (Tetsuya): Yeah, right! And Oscar is tasteful! >"of course you will. Crow: Ah, I see Largo's humouring the pathetic little twit. >You are one of my generals and I wouldn't >have placed you as one if I doubted your abilities. Mike: Yeah, but you only made him a general because of those incriminating photographs he had of you and Sylia! >Now, let us visit >Miriya and see about making preparations for the day's events." Tom (Largo): I think three or four ham sandwiches and a couple of peanut butter and jellies should be enough... > "thank you, sir." tetsuya finished. outside several small flack Ruri: Jackets? >es of snow begand to fall with a furor Ruri: They must be as angry as everyone else is about being in this fic. >marking that it would be snowing for quite some time today. Mike: And remember everyone, that is a very important and significant plot point and you've all got to remember it! >*********************************************************************** Ruri: Please stay off the unpaved shoulder. >Locke and Leon stood near the doorway of the Crow: ...local sex shop, impatiently waiting for it to open. >ADP HQ looking outside at >the mass of snow falling on to the streets and making a general mess. Tom (Locke): My God, how *could* that stupid snow think of coming down at *Christmas* of all times? >It was only 11:21 Ruri: Rob, there's a Mr. Chris Carter here to see you... Something about copyright infingement... >on locke's watch and there was already 4 inches of >snow on the ground within three hours. Tom: So, is this thing set in MegaTokyo, Ontario? >Inside few personel was left save for Mike: two magical, invisible elves. >the two detectives, nene, the chief Crow (Chief): Gadget, is that you? >and a few others. Crow: Like Torgo, who takes care of the place while they're gone! >At the immediate time, Locke and Leon were Mike: piss drunk. >guessing Mike (Leon): Uh... seven-e. Crow (Locke): D'oh! You sunk my battleship... >whether or not the chief would send the bunch of them off to home. > "I say it gets to 5 inches Crow: That's sorta pathetic, isn't it? I mean, if this was being written by CATS, it would have been at least ten *more*. Mike: Crow... Tom: Who? Crow: Wait, we haven't done that yet, have we? >by 12:30. I wonder why the chief is even keeping us around- Mike: In preparation for the eye-popping finale, of course. >its been dead quiet all morning." Ruri: "Dead quiet"? Is that supposed to be irony? Mike: No, I think Rob just lucked into a good phrase. > Leon turned to his temp Crow: Mike, is there something about your past you haven't been telling us? >erary partner "not to mention the fact the >R&D case is going absolutely no where. damn. Tom: Oh, I think you're already very much damned. >I wish something would fucking happen...." Crow: Lady and gentlemen: Irony, your guide to quality literature. Ruri: I thought that was foreshadowing? Crow: Nahh, it's an all-purpose type of riff. > locke glanced leon wryly with a light grin "you know what they say: Crow: I can't believe I ate the whole thing? Ruri: Where's the beef? Tom: I've fallen and I can't get up? Mike: Be all that you can be? >better watch what you wish for- you might get it." Ruri: That was going to be my next guess. >*********************************************************************** Crow: Ah, a representation of an alien planet on Doctor Who! Mike: Sorry? Crow: A quarry. Mike: Oh, I see. Tom: Well, at least they finally pulled that "flashback mode" out of the quicksand. Crow: Yeah, or else it drowned. > The army of steel moved into the city's downtown area and Ruri: ...started shopping for new jeans. >rained lasers and plasma death on the poor passerbys. Tom: *sniff* It's so *tragic*! *boohoo* Ah well, anyone want a cappuccino? >Each death ending the dreams, pains, and life Tom: No, really? Wow, did you guys know that deaths end lives? >of the person they ripped through- leaving the >white snow stained with the blood of an innocent. Ruri: Of an extra, you mean. >Within minutes, the immediate areas were in total chaos, Mike: The new Batman movie had been released! Crow: So? Mike: Well, so the people were starting a revolt. >leaving destruction and ruin Mike: ...and train stations and burnt toast. >behind them as they passed through. Crow: The areas were passing through? Tom: Uh, hello, Bill? There's word that Manhattan might be heading over in your direction. D'you suppose you could head it off at the ford? Thanks! >*********************************************************************** Ruri: There certainly are a lot of gravel roads in this fic. > without a warning the alarm went off Mike: After so many successful operations, Leon had finally been caught at the donut counter... red-handed. >suprising Leon enough to almost spit out the mouthful of coffee had drank. Mike: Just so long as it hits Locke... >Locke was also suprised by the shrill scream of the alarm, but TOm (Rob): ...he's the hero, so I won't ever admit it... D'oh! >not to the point that Leon was. Ruri: Well, of course not, he's the author. > "holy Crow: Foley? >shit. Crow: Hey, don't profane against the deceased like that! Mike: Sorry? Crow: Well, he *was* calling Pat holy... >They don't use the alarm unless something big has come down..." Mike: Like David Kintobor's ego? >leon said with a slight twing of nervousness. > "les go talk to te chief..." Mike: So, d'you think that's an attempt at an brooklyn accent? Crow: No, I think it's just Yet Another Screwup (TM). >before he could reach the chief's >office, Ruri: A floorboard collapsed under him and he died. The End. Tom: Not bad... >the big man was looking at him and Leon. Tom: Ummm... hold on a sec... (checks an earlier passage of the fic) Yeah, I thought so. Leon and Leon, huh Rob? > "McNicols & Sommerville- Ruri: Attorneys at Law. >I need you two to get over to the downtown area NOW. Mike: New Odourless Weiners? Ruri: Naturally Orange Welshmen? Tom: No Old Whores? Crow: Nautilus Of Wisonsin? >most of my boys are out for christmas Tom (Mafia Don): An' I need you to do me a little favour... >and I'm calling in every officer I can." Crow: Yeah, if he's turning to Locke for help, you *know* he's in dire straits. > before Locke could comment, leon answered the question on his mind Tom (Leon): We don't care about that! What's for lunch, dammit? >"Just what's happened?" > "believe me" the chief said, nervously Mike (Chief): I didn't do it! >"the city may or may not stand at the end of the day...." Ruri: We'll just settle for the complete destruction of this fanfic, actually. >*********************************************************************** Tom: Lemme guess... Orion's Belt? > "Sir, Miriya's squad has made it through the downtown area. Shall I Mike (Tetsuya): ...ask her to stop at Dunkin' Donuts? Crow: Donuts: A boomer's best friend. >take my men to assist her yet?" Tom: Naah, let's wait until she's been beaten by Locke, um, I mean, by the Knight Sabers so we can come by just in time to yell at her for failing and promise the Sabers we'll kill them all next time. > "not yet, tetsuya. Crow: I have to spank you first. >I have another mission for you to complete." Tom: It's the New York Times Crossword puzzle. I mean, I've been at it for days and I'm *stumped*! >reaching into a pocket, Largo pulled out a piece of paper and handed it >to his general. Ruri (Largo): I want you to do the shopping today. >"take this to the adress on the paper and leave it there. Mike (Tetsuya): But, sir, don't you think the proprietor already knows her address? >Be sure to destroy the window of the store just to get the >owner's attention." Mike: After all, a little vandalism never hurt anyone! > "I'll have it done now, sir" > "good, then. be on your way." Tom (Largo): Get out of my sight, worm! >*********************************************************************** Crow: No comment. I used up all my riffs. >The vidphone roared in Sylia's apartment all of a sudden. Tom (Sylia): Dammit, this always happens when I'm in the bathroom! Crow (Sylia): Oh, hold on, Priss-chan, I have to answer that... Mike: Didn't I tell you to stop that? Crow: Did you? (innocent whistle) >As she >reached the phone to pick it up, she was greeted by a frantic Nene. Tom: Sylia! I broke a nail! Ruri: You used that already. Tom: Did I? Sorry... > "Sylia! We have a major problem!" Ruri: Yes, we know; we're reading it. > "Nene, calm down for a second. now what's wrong?" Tom: What, you mean she hasn't noticed? Mike (Nene): We're out of donuts! The whole station's starting to panic! > "There's a group of about 20-30 boomers ripping thru the city! Tom: Ah, what a great police force. As soon as they smell a vacation, they're gone! Crow: Actually, I feel I should point out that Rob's made Largo completely out of character too. He's *much* too competent. >Most of ADP is off for christmas and there's all but no one left to fight >them off. Mike (Sylia): So, what am I supposed to do about it? I'm a Lingerie Store owner! *You're* the cop! >Locke and leon have already been sent off to defend the city >for what ever little they can." Ruri: Nene truly has an inordinate of faith in her fellow officers. > "It sounds like something genom wouldn't do... Mike (Sylia): Hmmm... I wonder if it could possibly be Largo behind this... Naaah! >I'm goining to call >up the rest of the sabres and we'll meet you as fast as we can." Crow: Well, barring the time it'll take us to do our hair and make-up. > "okay. be fast!" Crow: I know how she feels. I like fast women too. >nene commented as she hung up the phone. Mike: ...and then drew and quartered it. > so you've chosen the worst of time to come back now haven't you Ruri: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times... >Sylia thought as she began to dial the phone number for the priss Ruri: I didn't know Priss was a title. Mike: (Priss): I am Miss Asagiri, the Almighty Priss of Megatokyo. >and >linna. This wasn't going to be one of her better days, Sylia thought to >herself. Ruri: Shouldn't she have realized this the moment she agreed to star in this fic? >*********************************************************************** Mike: Insert witty and urbane riff here. Crow: Witty and urbane? In this MSTing? Puh-*lease*! > Leon's squad car raced through the rubble of the once beautiful >downtown area of megatokyo. Tom: Beautiful? MegaTokyo? *Beautiful*? I take it Rob never saw BGC episode 1. >Leon cursed and swore as he looked at the lost Mike: ...luggage. Tom: What, like Rob Pool's writing ability? Mike: No, he never lost it; he didn't have any in the first place. >of life littered on the streets. Tom: "The lost of life"? What, Moonies? >Locke was taking it in slowly, but was planning to wait until he could get >to the boomers that caused this mess to Crow: ...buy them a hearty lunch! >vent his anger. Ruri: That makes it sound like he's more angry about the fact that there's blood all over the nice, clean streets than he is about the loss of life. > "I swear I'm going to kill the fucking bumas that did this...." >Leon said outloud. Ruri: Why did Rob suddenly switch to the other popular spelling for boomer? Isn't it a bit late now? Mike: Apparently not... > "well it looks like you'll be getting your chance- look." Tom: ...up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's... All: A LAME FANFIC! >no more >than a few 100 meters was a band of boomers running across the street Mike: Oooh, jaywalking. That's bad. Ruri: Why'd he switch back to the other spelling now? Can't he make up his damn mind? >and generally leveling everything in their way. Crow: Including Locke? >That needs to change, locke thought to himself. Mike: There must be a new, gentler order! Where otaku self-insertions can rampage at will without fear of reproach! >The only way the boomers were going to stop >their killing spree would be to devert their attention. Ruri: Why don't you throw Locke to them? Crow: We'll pay you... >Reaching to the the Mike: Eye Creatures? >back of leon's car and fumbling through a variety of weapons and >firearms, he Mike: ...finally found the weapon he was looking for... a rock to throw at them. >decided to get their attention in a big way. Tom (Locke): Hey, yo, Boomers! We surrender! > "Leon, how fast can this baby go?" Ruri (Leon): Up to about 12 miles per hour, why? Mike: Uh... change of plans... *you* can drive it and I'll run away and hide. No, wait, I wasn't supposed to say that last part out loud, was I? > "215 kph. why?" Tom: Wasn't he using mph earlier? Mike: Yeah, but I think we've gone far past the point where we can expect this fic to have any internal continuity. > with an evil grin, Locke found what he wanted- Ruri: A life? >a grenade, and a few melee weapon- particularly a long survival knife. Ruri: ...marked "100% pure vulcanized rubber, made in China". >"by the way, there any guns back here you don't need?" Crow (Leon): Well, there is that faulty one that blows up in the user's face... > "no- why?" > "nothing- but I'll be using this as a diversion for our friends. Tom (Leon): Oh, you'll be using me as a distraction. Wow, what a great friend you are! >you floor her, then I'm gonna hop on the roof, Crow: And then you can swat at flying elves while having tea with the Easter Bunny! >then we get the fun stuff started." Tom: Nothing personal, Locke, but it's *far* too late for anything, no matter how "fun" to save this fic. Ruri: Well, an atomic explosion could help. Tom: Yeah, but only if Monkey Boy's at ground zero. And we can all guess the likelihood of *that* happening... > "okay..." leon started until the idea of locke hopping on the top >of the squad car at maybe 215 kph sunk in Mike (Leon): Oh, great! You're gonna kill yourself! >"you're gonna do WHAT?!" Mike: Destroy every boomer in this fic with a snap of my fingers. Crow: I am, after all, the author. > "don't worry- I can do it. just get me closer." Tom (Locke): No, not that close! *splat* > Leon shook his head in amazement as he floored the squad car. >"you're fucking crazy." Ruri: It's nice to see that someone in this fic has finally started to see that which is bloody obvious. > "just get me closer to the boomers...." > "alright..." Crow (Leon, to boomers): Hey, evil enemies! I've got a virgin sacrifice to Largo for ya! > putting the two grenades in his pockets and Ruri: ...throwing away the grenade pins... Tom: ...and he exploded in a shower of blood and toasty little pieces of hamburger. All: The End. >hooking the knife on his belt, locke openned the door and Mike: Turned red as the knife cut through the belt and caused the moon to come out several hours early. >grabbed a hold of the roof of the >car and nimbly swung himself up on the top of the car- no easy task at >150kmp. Tom: Then he slipped and cracked his head on the pavement. The End. Crow: You seem to be doing that a lot. Tom: I didn't do much during the first two chapters. I'm just making up for lost time. >Within a few minutes the squad car was only 20 meters away from >the boomers. hearing the roar of the squad car, the boomers- Mike: Wow, he just repeated three different words twice each within two lines. That takes a *very* talented bad writer. >about 5 to 7 of them turned around and prepared to open fire. All: (start to cheer the boomers on) >They never made it >as the officer on the top of the car lobbed a grenade like object >before they could fire. Tom: A grenade-like object which was, in fact, a grenade. >Unlike conviential grenades, these Ruri: ...blew up two nanoseconds after Locke threw them, hopefully. >had a little >kinetic kick which made them about 3 times as deadly. Crow: ...as a mosquito bite. >2 boomers closest >to the first volley were immediately destroyed while 3 others were >damaged severely. Tom: Oh, great. Just in case anyone was wondering whether even the great Locke could save us this time... >The loud bang of the grenade alerted more of the >boomers which also fell to a second grenade. Ruri: Well, Locke certainly dealt with that particular deadly boomer assault quickly. > "this is gonna get rough...." locke said to himself. Mike: What, you mean he *hasn't* killed all of them yet? *tsk tsk tsk* He's getting sloppy... >*********************************************************************** >less than 5 minutes after Sylia had hung up with Linna Tom: Ah, group suicide? >the majority of >the KnightSabres were busy getting ready for the fight ahead of them. Crow (Priss): Okay, Mackie... Hold still, I need to practice... > "damn! Tom: ...good coffee! And hot! >30 boomers running through the city and no AD poice around? Tom: Priss, we too wish that Locke didn't exist but I really think that's just wishful thinking... >what cruel sadistic bastard goes on killing spree a week before >christmas?" Priss shouted, angrily. Ruri: And here I thought it was a whoop of unbrideled joy. > "I wouldn't mind knowing either, Priss" Mike (Mackie): Yeah, they're making me miss Baywatch! >Mackie commented as he completed loading his armor on. Crow (Mackie): Say, Priss can you help me with this saucepan? > "well, we'll find out sooner or later. Ruri: Hopefully sooner. This fic has gone on more than long enough. >right now we need to pick up Nene. Tom (Mackie): Saaay, can you leave that to me? >The van will be fine since the trouble is probbally coming this way too." > "that sounds right, Sylia" Mike: Wow... Sylia, you're nearly as smart as Locke! > Before anyone could do something the sound of breaking glass echoed >in the garage. All except Ruri: Stone Cold? > "what the hell was that?" Tom: Hell Frozen Over, actually. > "sounded like someone broke the front store windows from the sound >of it." Ruri: Thanks for stating the bloody obvious, boy genius. Tom: Say, Mackie, you ever think of auditioning for the part of Robin? With dialogue like that, you'd be a natural! > Mackie, of course was correct in that the window was shattered. >deposited among the wreckage was a Mike: ...large sum of money. >sheet of paper that wasn't there before. Crow: "You have just been robbed by the Springfield Cat Burglar". >picking it up, Bert read the note to everyone else will >readying his hardsuit. Mike (Bert): "I kill you, Brat!" Hmmm. I think it's for you, Mackie! > "greeting Sylia, long time no see. Crow: This is your old, whiny boyfriend who you always used to laugh at behind his back. But now, I'm gonna get my *revenge*! Bwhahahaha! >This message is a calling for you and your cabal Tom: I see Rob went to the Warrior School of Diction. Mike: Yeah, seriously... Lay off the thesaurus, Rob! Try to learn some basic English grammar first! >to me in the city square. Ruri: What, all of MegaTokyo only has one city square? >By all means, watch out for my army along the way >as I hope they don't kill all of you before I can finish Crow: ...my delightful Roast Beef Sandwich, from Schwartz's! > of the deed myself. signed- Largo...." Tom (Sylia): Damn, and here I was thinking it was Katsuhiko Jinnai who was behind this... > Sylia knew this wasn't going to be her day. Mike: You know, I just realized something. I do believe Rob has gone an entire section without writing anyone's name without a capital! Crow: Hmmm... I think you're right! My God, he's actually improving! >first nene's call Mike: Ah, well. I knew it couldn't last... >and now this. what the hell is next? Ruri (Looking down a few lines): Whatever it is, I think we're gonna have to wait until next episode. Tom: Damn! And here I was hoping there weren't any... > "lets go get nene. Mackie, you drive." Crow (Sylia): Um, that's my breast, not the steering wheel. >*********************************************************************** >TO BE CONTINUED SOON..... All: No, it's not! >another fanfic by rob pool Ruri:Well, replace "fanfic" with "piece of worm-bait" and that'll be a bit more accurate. >non-bgc drivel: Crow: Thanks, but we had enough of your yes-bgc drivel. (All exeunt) [Insert reversed door sequence here. -B] The bridge of the S.o.L. was still dark, the (empty) coffin still standing at it's center. Shortly, Crow T. Robot entered the room and walked over to the coffin. He kneeled down beside it and softly muttered a few last words of farewell that probably weren't particularly suitable for family reading. Crow then walked over to the back of the room, waiting for the others to have their last moments with the deceased. Tom Servo floated in next. He hovered over the coffin for a while, also saying words of farewell to the dearly departed. But the disclaimers about family reading in all likelihood apply to *these* particular words as they did to Crow's, so we'll just skip over them too. After he finished, Tom floated over to join his compatriot. Seconds later, Mike Nelson walked in. He stepped over to the coffin, stood over it for a few seconds looking stumped and then shrugged. He went over to join the Bots. Finally, Ruri Hoshino walked in, ignoring the coffin competely. She rolled her eyes, muttered "bakas" and joined the others. A few moments passed silently and then Mike clapped his hands and asked, "Ah well, who's for lunch?" "Well, we *could* use some more RAM-chips..." Crow hinted subtly. "Say, Mike," Tom interjected, "can we get rid of that thing?" "The coffin? Oh, sure!" Mike replied. "Now, I'll... Oh, hold on, the... well, whatever are calling." * * * Scraebor, Lord of the Glorious Insect Race and future ruler of the Universe (he'd gone up in the world) stared at the four with a thoroughly disgusted (at least, as disgusted as an ant can look) expression. Dr. Clayton Forrester hung upside down behind him, his revolt an obvious failure. "Ah, hello measly, pink, gold and red respectively garbage!" Scraebor chirped, "As you can no doubt see, we've managed to defeat the last hope of your pathetic little species and will soon come forth from our lairs to run amok in the world above." "And," Scraebor continued, "since the fat slave has informed me that there is no more of that wonderful piece of entertainment you were reading, I suppose now is the perfect opportunity to kill you!" He turned to T.V.'s Frank. "Tell me, slave, which control destroys the fleshy rabble up there?" Frank surveyed the control console. Um, I think it's that one." he said, pointing at a large green switch. Scraebor nodded and activated the switch. *crash* *BANG* "Oops. Wrong button." Frank said before falling to the ground in an unconscious heap thanks to Deep Thirteen's automatic defense system. Scraebor looked down at the Frank shaped heap lying on the ground. "Stupid human fool. Tell me, slave," he turned to Dr. F., "Do you know how to destroy that satellite?" Dr. F. gave a dignified (at least as dignified as it's possible to be while hanging upside down, trussed up head-to-toe.) "If you really think I will help you destroy Mike Nelson, you are *sadly* mistaken." * * * "Why, thank you, Dr. F!" Mike said, "I didn't know you had it in you!" * * * "After all," the scientist continued, "I want to do it myself!" Scraebor looked over to the crew of the S.o.L. "I don't suppose any of you pathetic, whimpering fools can help me destroy the lot of you?" * * * "Oh, sure!" Mike said, "that's easy!" "Miiiiike!" Crow said sharply. "Hey, I'm just trying to help the man, er, insect!" Mike retorted before turning back to the viewscreen, "If I recall the layout up there correctly, there should be a big red button there that says "Console Self Destruct". If you press that, I can promise you you'll never have to lay eyes on us again!" * * * Scraebor looked at the console briefly and, indeed, the button in question was there. "Ah, thank you, human! You've been most helpful!" he reached forward and pressed the button. Unsurprisingly, the console soon proceeded to blow up in his face and smear him all over the nearest wall. By a strange coincidence, however, a little bit of the toasty Scraebor McNuggets managed to fall right onto... the Button! ***Click*** Written by: Blazej Szpakowicz. Directed by: Blazej S. Edited by: B. Szpakowicz. Produced by: B. Starring: Michael J. Nelson as Mike Nelson Kevin Murphy as the voice of Tom Servo Trace Beaulieu as the voice of Crow Omi Minami as Ruri Hoshino With Special Villains: Trace Beaulieu as Dr. Clayton Forrester Frank Conniff as TV's Frank Also Starring: Paul Chaplin as Scraebor. A Nameless Extra as The Nameless Drone. Keep circulating the fics! * * * Praise for the MSTing work of Blazej Szpakowicz: "It's absolutely great. Now gimme my money!" - Seth "Lefty" Triggs "So good it would have taken me three whole minutes to MST it!" - Jamie "JOLT" Jeans "Great! Wonderful! Fantastic! Uh, sorry... what are you talking about?" - Alicia "Lynxara" Ashby "Why you ... I oughta your little ! You *SUCK*!" -Mysterious Secret Admirer * * * Ah, Number three is done. I swear this thing took *sooo* long to do... Real life and all that... Anyhoo, thanks for lotsa people for lotsa stuff, but especially to Tim McLees for archiving this, to Nightbreak for the condolences from Club Anipike, to Best Brains, inc. for creating Mystery Science Theater 3000, to Artmic and Youmex for Bubblegum Crisis, to Kia Asamiya and StarChild for Ruri and *gasp* finally, to Rob Pool for writing this fanfic and providing me with so many riffing opportunities. If y'all have any comments, feel free to e-mail me at zek@csi.uottawa.ca. Hopefully, some of them will actually get through... :P Oh, and note for the humour impaired: the "comments" above are a *joke*! Please don't flame either me or the people who "said them", since you'd only be creating unnecessary dificulties for lots of different people... Mostly yourself. Next up should probably be my first lemon, CATS' Triangle Trouble. Until then! >Thinking back to the events of last monday night, he thought he might >as well make up good for taking Sylia to dinner. Knightsabers fooey.