Mystery Usenet Theater 3000: "Faans Issue #1" Original story by T. Campbell Misting by Matt Blackwell [Season 10 Opening] [The Bridge of the Satellite of Love] [A line of tents winds its way across the Bridge. At the front of the line stands Tom and Crow, who seem rather distracted. A computer monitor and keyboard are on the command console. Mike enters, off to the side of the Bridge, after a few moments.] MIKE: Hi everyone, and welcome to the Satellite of Love. I'm Mike Nelson, former Wisconsin citizen and currently a resident of High Earth Orbit. With me, as always, are Crow T. Robot and Tom Servo, who appear to be discussing something. Let's listen in... [Cambot pans over for a closeup of the two bots.] TOM: He should be here. CROW: He didn't say he'd come for sure. TOM: He didn't rule it out. CROW: Either way, it's a toss-up. TOM: But he's our last hope. CROW: He'll come. [Pause] TOM: Unless Solo shot him. CROW: True. Well, if that happens, we'll go and find the Tonnika Sisters. [Mike walks into view.] MIKE: Guys? What 'cha doing? TOM: Excerpts from our new play, "Waiting For Gree-do." MIKE: No, I mean what are you doing in that line? CROW: Oh. Well, we've been watching the news, and we got jealous of those people standing in line for movies... TOM: They seemed to be having such fun... CROW: So, we decided to go to a blockbuster too. MIKE: Pearl sent us a good movie?! CROW: Well, no. TOM: We're making do with what we have around here. MIKE: Hey, that sounds like fun. Can I join you? CROW: Sure. [Mike stands behind Crow.] CROW: Hey! What are you doing? MIKE: Getting in line... TOM: Mike, the line starts back there. [Tom points himself towards the rear of the bridge.] MIKE: But, we're the only ones on the ship! CROW: So? TOM: That's no excuse, Mike. End of the line! MIKE: Fine. I'll play along. [Mike steps away from the duo, walks to the back of the bridge, and then exits, stage right.] CROW: Hrmph. Some people. TOM: Yeah. [pause] Oh, come on! Open up already! [Gypsy, wearing a maroon vest, enters and stands behind the counter.] GYPSY: [grumbling] Hold your horses. [Gypsy bends down and picks up an 'open' sign with her mouth, and places it on the counter.] GYPSY: [cheerfully] Hello sir! Welcome to the SOL 12! Can I help you? TOM: Hi! One ticket to "Digby: The Biggest Dog in the World" please! GYPSY: Okay. [She stares at the monitor. Typing sounds can be heard.] Sir, we're down to seating in the first row. TOM: That's fine. GYPSY: $7.50 sir. TOM: Oh, Mike'll be paying for all of us. MIKE: [O.S., sounding very far away] Did you say something? TOM: No, Mike! GYPSY: Gotcha. [Tom moves aside. Crow steps up.] GYPSY: Hello sir! Welcome to the SOL 12! Can I help you? CROW: One student for "Avenging Disco Godfather." GYPSY: I'll need to see your ID, please. [Crow places a piece of plastic on the counter. Tom and Gypsy move to look at it.] TOM: Wow! I didn't know you went to Cornell! CROW: I have to do *something* between movies. [Gypsy turns again to the computer. More typing sounds can be heard.] GYPSY: Sir? We're down to seats in the first row. CROW: No problem. GYPSY: $4.50 please. CROW: It's on Mike. MIKE: [O.S., still very far away] Hey guys? Is the line moving? CROW: It'll be a while Mike! [The commercial sign begins to flash.] TOM: We'll be right back. MIKE: [Ibid] What?! TOM: WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK! [Commercials] [The bridge. Mike now stands at the counter, talking to Gypsy.] MIKE: I owe *how much*? GYPSY: Six hundred ninety two dollars, sir. MIKE: My ticket was only six bucks! GYPSY: It's those Ticketmaster service charges, sir. MIKE: Oh. Okay then. [Crow and Tom reenter.] CROW: Hey Mike. What did you end up with tickets for? "Killer Clowns from Outer Space?" TOM: "Night of the Lepus?" CROW: "Silent Night, Deadly Night II"? TOM: "Beastmaster II: Through the Portal of Time"? MIKE: Actually, I got tickets for the Deep Purple concert. CROW: Really? They're coming here? MIKE: Apparently, they're doing a tour of small clubs and... [The Castle light begins to flash.] I'll tell you more later. Let's see what Yoko, Billy Ray, and Emenem want. [Mike hits the light.] [Castle Forrester] [Pearl is seated at a desk, with a stack of papers before her. Observer stands nearby.] PEARL: Evening, Miguel. Tonight, you're in for an excursion into... [Bobo enters carrying a stack of papers, which he then places in front of Pearl.] BOBO: E! Online, Lawgiver. PEARL: Thank you, Bobo. [He exits.] PEARL: Now, as I was saying, you're heading into... [Bobo re-enters with another stack of papers. Once again, he places them before Pearl.] BOBO: Time Magazine, Lawgiver. [He exits.] PEARL: Thank you, Bobo. Mike... [Bobo re-enters with yet another stack of papers, placing them before Pearl.] BOBO: Entertainment Weekly, Lawgiver. PEARL: [Forced] Thank. You. Bo.. [Bobo exits.] PEARL: Mike... [Bobo once again enters with still another stack of papers.] BOBO: Tony Kornheiser, Law... PEARL: Bobo! I don't care about the damn reviews! Brain Guy! OBSERVER: Bobo? Would you like to go on a trip? BOBO: I'm not really packed... [Observer's Sound F/X play, and Bobo vanishes.] PEARL: Where? OBSERVER: Downtown Detroit. PEARL: Good. Anyway, Mike. Tonight you're in for a treat. We're sending you onto a little excursion into the world of fandom in tonight's experiment. We're sending you a comic book called "Faans." It's about, well, fans. And they're out to find action figures or something. I didn't really pay much attention to the plot, but I'm sure it'll be painful. Observer, if you please? OBSERVER: My pleasure, Pearl. [Observer's sound F/X play again.] [SoL] [The lights flash.] ALL: AHHHH!!!! WE'VE GOT COMIC SIGN!!!!! [Mike hits the lights and the door sequence begins.] [6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ] [The Bots and Mike take their seats in the theater.] MIKE: Fans? CROW: This ought to be painful. TOM: I hope that guy who keeps sending us his teeth isn't in this. MIKE: Me too. [Voices begin to speak, however the screen remains blank.] >Voice: Beam us up... Dotty. CROW: Huh? >Voice: This is such an Honor, Dotty. TOM: Hey! What gives? > Like spewing into > the Enterprise toilet. MIKE: Pearl! [An image of Pearl appears on the screen] PEARL: What? MIKE: There's no picture. CROW: Maybe it's one of those alternative comics. PEARL: Damn. [Towards O.S.] Brain Guy! We've lost the picture! OBSERVER: [O.S.] I'm sorry, Pearl. I can't re-establish the feed! PEARL: [Sighs.] Well, let's go with the backup then. We'll send you the script of this thing instead. Brain Guy! Do it. [Observer's sound F/X plays again, and words begin to scroll across the screen.] >PAGE ONE >1. Small panel in the shape of a TV screen. Three actors vaguely >resembling Kirk, Spock, and McCoy stand together. MIKE: Hey! It's Kevin Pollack, Richard Chamberlain and Dennis Weaver! > Their lower bodies >fade into pointillistic specks CROW: As opposed to speckillistic points. > ("beaming out"). In the lower right >corner, almost too small to see, there's a futuristic "SF" logo (a >station identifier). TOM: Yes, we're more than familiar with that network, and thank you sooo much for re-opening that wound! >Caption: Television. MIKE: Home of such quality SF programming as "Homeboys in Space", "Space Rangers", and "Felicity". CROW: Felicity? MIKE: Sure! She's actually a robot created by a reclusive scientist who's out to take over the world. CROW: Really? MIKE: Yep. They explained it all in the pilot. CROW: Oh. > Kirk-figure: Beam us up... >2. Same panel shape, same size, same logo. CROW: Same riffs too? MIKE: Hey, if he doesn't rewrite them, why should we? > While silhouettes of the >Kirk-Spock-McCoy triad phase into the background, a pretty Scotswoman >("Dotty," ALL: [monotone] But if you call her 'Dot', she'll have to hurt you. > Clara Strudenberry) runs her hands over the controls. TOM: [Dotty] So, those bastards at the Times thought that my performance in MacBeth was 'wooden and spiritless', huh? Well, they'll soon pay. Oh yes, they'll pay... >Clara is twentysomething and rather zaftig. CROW: Zaftig? MIKE: It's like scranadicious, except it's kind of monatillistic too. CROW: Oh. > She seems to be more >modeling than acting, TOM: Just like Kathy Ireland. Or Ben Stein. > and wears a 1960s Star Trek ladies' uniform. She >also has a mountainous hairdo, much like Deanna Troi in her middle >period. MIKE: The middle period? CROW: Yeah, you know. That time where Deanna was played by Ricki Lake and Divine played Lwaxanna. >Kirk-figure: ...Dotty. >3. Largest panel. Clara, today, takes center stage. Surrounding her, >worshipfully, are (from left to right) Tim, Katherine, Shanna, and >Rikk. MIKE: How can four people in a line surround someone? TOM: Clara's a one dimensional being. The rest are 2D. MIKE: Oh. >Tim wears unbuttoned jeans and a T-shirt that says "THERE'S NO >INTELLIGENT LIFE DOWN HERE ->" with the arrow pointing to his groin >area. TOM: Lots of women are going to agree with that one. > He grins widely as his eyes fall on Clara's chest. >Katherine is dressed as Eleanor of Aquitaine, with scepter included. >She's the club's (nominal) president. MIKE: Shouldn't she be the club's queen? >Clara is the center of attention and clearly loving it. She remains a >very attractive woman of a certain age, though her hairstyle is more >modest. >Shanna is dressed to the nines and taking down notes on a pad as she >talks. CROW: [Shanna] Memo to self: Kill Tim last. Make sure he dies very painfully. >Rikk wears fairly ordinary clothes. He is struck speechless by Clara's >presence, and little hearts float around his head. >(Double parentheses denote thought balloons.) MIKE: They do? TOM: Neylon better update the text to HTML coding then. >Caption: Reality. CROW: Wow! A non-fiction comic! I thought they stopped doing those in the '50s after the Comic Code was adopted! MIKE: Coming soon from Paradox Press: The Big Book of Fandom. >Tim: This is such an honor, Dotty. Like spewin' inta the Enderprize >toilet. TOM: [Tim] Or blowing chunks on JMS. Heh. That was coooool. >Katherine: Ignore Tim, Mrs. Strudenberry. >Shanna: Let's all do that, Katherine. CROW: Can we do that too? MIKE: Nope. Our killfile's broken. CROW: Rats. > So how did you get into StarTec? MIKE: [Clara] I was at one of Andy Warhol's parties, and I guess that I had too much to drink, cause I passed out and when I woke up, I was on StarTec. TOM: That's how they got Lorne Greene on Battlestar Galactica. >Rikk: ((Oh. My. Lord...)) CROW: [Rikk] Is that guy wearing a Black Lotus with a hole punched through it? Is he insane? >4. The 1960s Clara, looking beatific. >This panel doubles as a large thought balloon coming out of Rikk in >the last panel. >Open caption: "Dotty. Buxom. Beamy. The geek's sex goddess. CROW: I thought that was Denise Crosby. MIKE: No, it's Carrie Fisher in that slave girl outfit. TOM: Are you sure it's not Sailor Moon? MIKE: She's not real. TOM: And your point? MIKE: Objection withdrawn. Well, how about Rogue then? CROW: Claudia Christian? TOM: Marina Sirtis? MIKE: Sigourney Weaver? CROW: Terry Ferrel? TOM: Jeri Ryan? MIKE: Barbara Bain? CROW: Ewww. TOM: That's just creepy, Mike. > Here, >talking to me." >5. Close on Clara, who smiles with just a little condescension, as if >telling her kids that Santa Claus is a boozer. TOM: He is? CROW: Wow! I thought he was just a ruthless exploiter of third world children. >Clara: Ah, yer a thoughtful one, Miss-- Sheena? >Shanna: Shanna. Shanna Cochran. Ms. Cochran. >Clara: Bless ye for not askin' about "quintiodide crystals." MIKE: Those are those flavor crystals in Cinnaburst, right? >Tim (small lettering): That was my question... >Clara: A'got in because the d'rector liked my hooters. Next? TOM: What? She got hired for her looks rather than her acting ability? But, but... Hollywood doesn't work that way! CROW: Mike, my faith in humanity is shaken... MIKE: It's all right, guys. I'm sure that it's just some sort of fluke in the casting system. > PAGE TWO >1. TV panel: Clara caught up in the Kirk-figure's manly embrace. An >electrical storm rages in the background, making both characters' >outrageous hairdos even more outrageous. CROW: They're conquered space. They can teleport matter. They just can't find a decent hair spray. MIKE: It's sad really. >Caption: "So in episode #69, did you and Kurt... heh-heh, you know..." TOM: [Clara] Yes, yes. We shot up some heroin, and then headed back to his Seattle pad and he wrote "Smells Like Teen Spirit." >2. Clara, astonishingly enough, flirts back with Tim. CROW: Well, why shouldn't she? Tim has a wonderful personality. MIKE: [mumbling] No he doesn't. >Clara: A'think a'd better keep mum on that one. No sense in ruinin' >the debate for ye when ye see it again. >3. Shanna elbows Tim out of the way. TOM: ...and gets two minutes for cross checking. >Shanna: ((Mouth-breathing Teccoid.)) >Shanna: Uuhm... What were rehearsals like? MIKE: [Clara] Well, they were like the show, except with the F/X and the costumes. Oh, and the directors usually weren't drunk in the rehearsals. >Tim: ((Whatta mundane.)) CROW: Tim's obviously never seen Shanna at Rocky Horror. >4. Clara answers airily and turns her attention to Rikk. >Clara: "Rehearsals?" Who rehearsed? TOM: [Clara] Those high-falootin' people at "Lancelot Link" rehearsed, but not us. >Clara (linked balloon): Somethin' on the tip of yur tongue, young sir? MIKE: [Rikk] Oh, I was wondering how the events in Algeria affected StarTec. CROW: [Clara] Boy, if I had a dollar for every time that I've been asked that.... >5. Clara starts walking toward Rikk. Katherine looks at Rikk, a little >concern on her face. TOM: [Katherine] Hey! This isn't fair! I'm ahead of him in line! >Katherine: Rikk? CROW: [Katherine] Oh, great. Rikk's getting seduced again. I'd like to go to just *one* con where the GoH doesn't seduce Rikk! >6. Clara is standing next to Rikk, waiting politely. >Rikk: Mmm.. mm-mm. MIKE: o/~ Once, there was this fan who went to a convention to talk to a StarTec star and when he finally got there, he found that Tim and Shanna were in line. And so he stood in that line so he could ask a quesssstion. Mmm, mm-mm, mmm, mm-mm. Mmm, mm-mm, mmm, mm-mm. o/~ >7. Clara turns away from Rikk. We can finally see Rikk's face, and >he's blushing (in black and white shading, that is). TOM: So...he's graying then? > He lets out a >breath. Clara is turning toward the right, where Shanna is already >looking. >Clara: ...Ah, well. P'raps we can loosen it. Whaddayu say, everyone? >Buy a failed ballet dancer a drink? CROW: [Clara] Come on! Get me liquored up! It's fun! >Dork (off-panel): Uh, Mrs. Strudenberry? >Shanna: Oh, no... MIKE: Great. It's Tom Green. > PAGE THREE >1. Two dorks accost Clara. These two embody the worst stereotypes of >Trekkies: MIKE: They're carrying bat'leths and are shouting in Klingon? > their hair is mussed, their pajama-like uniforms in poor >repair. (The Starfleet insignia is upside-down.) They carry school >backpacks. The first one has buck teeth, the other's mouth hangs open. CROW: It's Dave Letterman and Paul Shaffer! TOM: Actually, I think the other one might be Anton Fig. >Clara tries to smile but takes a step back. Shanna moans. >Shanna: More Tims! TOM: [Rikk] Hey! My order from Clone-a-Tim finally came! >Dork #1: uuhhhh >Dork #2: Uh, Mitheth Thrudenberry, uh, meeting you will be the >defining event of our livth. MIKE: [Dork] Ith's even better than my graduating from Cambridge! >Clara: Ah. Yes. Glad I could help y'out. >2. Katherine tries to wave the dorks away with her scepter. Shanna >eyes Katherine accusatorily. Tim looks at the dorks curiously. Rikk >looks at Tim curiously. CROW: Crow stares at the screen with complete disinterest. >Katherine: Serfs! Hence! I banish you! TOM: Hey! Who does she think she is? Leona Helmsley? >Shanna: You said fans weren't like this, Katherine... >Tim: Hey, even I haven't seen those guys before. And I talk to >everybody. MIKE: [Tim] Except for the ones who have restraining orders against me. >Rikk: How many of them talk back? >3. Dork #1 has whipped out an autograph pad from his backpack. Dork #2 >is pulling something else from his. CROW: If it's a human head... well, actually that would be a neat little twist. >Dork #2: Yeah, it'll be our defining event. >4. Dork #2 has pulled out a gun. MIKE: Ah! A gun! TOM: This must be The Matrix's fault! Or Basketball Diaries! CROW: No! Obviously, it's the fault of Doom and Goth music! >Dork #2: Yours too! TOM: o/~I need some attention... I shoot into the light. o/~ CROW: I don't think Peter had this in mind when he wrote that. > PAGE FOUR >1. Tim gapes in shock. >2. Shanna gapes in shock. >3. Katherine gapes in shock. >4. Clara gapes in shock. TOM: Tom gapes in shock. MIKE: Mike gapes in shock. CROW: Crow becomes distracted by the gun and just goes "Ooooh. Shiny." >5. Rikk instinctively charges forward. His arm comes down between the >dorks and Clara. >Rikk: NO! >6. Rikk grabs Dork #2's hands and disrupts his aim. A laser beam fires >from the pistol. MIKE: Oh, he just plans to do some laser keratotomy. >SFX: ZATT >Rikk: Laser beam? TOM: But I hardly even know her beam! >Shanna (off-panel): Katherine! >7. Katherine fences with her scepter, knocking a gun out of Dork #1's >hands as it also fires a laser beam (cutting through the corners of >other panels). CROW: Great. Now they'll never get the security deposit back. >Katherine: ...Right. >Katherine: En garde. MIKE: Right En Garde. By Mennen. >SFX: ZITT TOM: Oxycute them? >8. Shanna stares at her notepad, partly vaporized by a stray laser. >Tim charges like a bull. CROW: Those nerds and their accursed red capes! >Shanna: This can't be happening... > This can't be happening... MIKE: That doesn't help. Believe me, we've tried it. >Tim: RRARRRG! >9. Tim rolls onto Dork #2 like a giant slug. ALL: Ew. CROW: Looovely imagery there. >Tim: GRORRR >Dork #2: NOOO >10. Dork #1 gets past Katherine, running to Clara... MIKE: [Dork] Just one picture! Please! >Rikk: The other one's-- >Katherine: Stop him Shanna-- > PAGE FIVE >1. Clara throws him over her shoulder and drops him to the ground. TOM: [Shanna] Never mind! Clara got it! >2. Seeing Shanna staring and stammering at her, Clara smooths her hair >and tries to smooth the situation. CROW: [Clara] So, how about we get that drink now? > (This is a very deep-focus panel. >Clara and Shanna are at opposite ends of the action.) >Shanna: You-- you-- >Clara: We did a'r own stunts. CROW: StarTec must have been filmed in Hong Kong. >Shanna: You-- >3. Shanna runs from the scene, Tim and the wriggling Dork #2 behind >her. >Shanna: You people are lunatics! TOM: Just the ones wearing the Spock ears. The rest of them are quite sane. >Tim: Don'cha love it? >4. Katherine grabs Shanna's arm, locks eye contact, and gets through >to her. MIKE: "Faans". The touching after-school special that lead millions away from the horrors of premature gingivitis. >Katherine: Wait! >Katherine: There may be a story here, Shanna. Those guns aren't >exactly period... MIKE: Actually, there was an engineer in the late 70s who filed a patent for a laser pistol... CROW: Mike, the MiBs asked us not to talk about that... MIKE: Oh. Right. [pause] Wow. She sure isn't much of a reporter then if she can't see that people shooting up a con with laser pistols might be a story. CROW: Better. TOM: Now Alex Trebek and Jesse Ventura won't be stopping by. >5. Rikk stands near Clara (who hasn't moved far). His crush is giving >him courage: he's almost a commanding presence. TOM: Almost. CROW: Right now, he's at the Gomer Pyle level of command. > Just now, he doesn't >even care that Clara isn't taking him seriously. He holds up one of >the guns. MIKE: [Rikk] Ha! Who's the king now? All of you! Down on the floor! >Rikk: No joke. These guns' design shows imagination.... which these >two don't have. Somebody else wanted to kill one of fandom's >superstars. >Clara: Superstars? Come on, lad... TOM: [Clara] I mean, I'm no Dennis Lawson... Or even a Nick Pollatta. >6. Shanna is talking on a cell phone. By now, Dork #2 is thoroughly >subdued and Tim sits comfortably on top of him. MIKE: The dork is surprisingly ergonomic. >Tim: Hey, get me a pizza. And call the cops. >Shanna: G-Get me editorial. CROW: Good idea! A strongly worded essay should keep this from happening again! >Rikk: Katherine... >7. Close on Rikk. >Rikk: Contact the Science Fiction Club. MIKE: What are "Words we're never likely to actually hear in a crisis situation," Alex? TOM: Let's take a breather. [The group leaves the theater.] [1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . . ] [The Bridge is full of chairs, arranged in neat, orderly rows. In the rear of the Bridge is a sheet-covered, folding table. On the wall hangs a banner proclaiming "SoLCon '99" is bright, cheery lettering. Tom, Crow, and Gypsy sit in chairs near the command console. A bespectacled man stands by the table.] PAUL: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to SoLCon '99! Let me begin with a reminder to attend our panel on... [The bots begin to chant] BOTS: Su-lu! Su-lu! [Paul throws up his hands.] PAUL: [laughing] Okay, okay. Ladies and gentlemen, bots and humans, Terrans and aliens, SoLCon's guest of honor--- George Takei! [The bots cheer wildly as George Takei enters, shakes hands with Paul and seats himself at the table.] GEORGE: Hello everyone! It's a pleasure for me to be here tonight with all of you, in this beautiful satellite... [The bots whoop and holler.] TOM: Whoo-hoo! SoL! GEORGE: Thank you! Now, I know that you've got lots of questions, so let's get started! Let's start with the fireplug. TOM: Mr. Takei? In the episode "Miri", there was a female ensign standing next to you in the mess hall scene. Do you remember anything about her? GEORGE: Yes, that was Nancy Cooper, a biology student at USC who did some acting on the side. She now works at the CDC, she's married to Robert Hastings, a stockbroker, and she has three kids, Ryan, Sony... TOM: [Interrupting] No, I meant did you remember anything about her character? [Mike enters, looking puzzled.] GEORGE: Well, her character was Ensign Sawyer. She was on her second tour of duty, having just transferred over from the USS Republic. She was roommates with Ensign Vasquez from "Charlie X" and her hobbies included rock climbing and pottery. Next question? Yes, you sir? MIKE: Um, hi. Just how did you get up here? GEORGE: That's actually quite a funny story. You see, I had just left the studio after doing voice over work for Simpsons' episode #AABF20.... [Tom and Crow move over to Mike. Takei continues to speak in the background.] CROW: [whispering] Mike? What do you think you're doing? MIKE: [whispering] I'm trying to find out how he got here! Maybe he can help us get home! TOM: [whispering] Mike, you don't just ask *George Takei* if you can bum a ride off of him! CROW: [whispering] Geez. He's not some extra or bit player. He's George Takei! [The bots head back to their seats.] MIKE: [whispering, loudly] But we can get home! GEORGE: ...and so, that's how I got here. Yes, golden spider-duck? CROW: Yes. Um, who was a better singer, Shatner or Nimoy? GEORGE: Surprisingly, James Doohan had a lovely soprano voice. Yes, you again, sir? MIKE: Hi. We're trapped up here on this satellite and I was wondering if it would it be possible .... [Paul reappears.] PAUL: That's all the time we have today for George. Let's all say thanks! [The bots cheer madly. George waves and exits with Paul.] MIKE: ...to give us a lift back to Earth? Shoot. [Paul reappears.] PAUL: Okay everyone, it's time for our next guest! Let's all give a cheer for the star of "Legend of the Rollerblade 7", Frank Stallone! TOM: Mike! You could get a ride with him! MIKE: I don't really think I want to go anywhere with him. [The bots ponder that for a moment, then nod. The movie sign begins to flash.] CROW: Good point. [The bots and Mike nod knowingly as the door sequence begins.] [6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ] [The three enter and sit.] MIKE: At least he didn't start singing. TOM: Oh, Frank's version of "What's My Name Again?" is to die for. > PAGES SIX-SEVEN >1. The Science Fiction Club is gathered in their usual college meeting >hall, sitting in those chairs with built-in desks. There are more >chairs than there are members. A few members have bookbags. MIKE: Other members are accessorizing with stylish scarves. >Katherine and Tim stand in front of everyone, TOM: They'll be leading the charge against the Jerry positions. > Tim to Katherine's >right. From left to right, the important members are Tim (who gets a >wide berth), Rumy and Will. A couple of sorority girls sit in the >back. CROW: Comic relief? MIKE: Probably. TOM: I'm guessing they're from Alpha Psi Phi sorority. CROW: That's still comic relief. Technically. >Rikk defers to Katherine, who raises her scepter. Rikk is dressed in >shorts and a tee, CROW: Tim's wearing shorts and an ess. > while Katherine's wear is even more elaborate here >than in the last scene. (In fact it drags the floor, though we needn't >see that here.) TOM: Thanks. Now we won't have to check. >Tim, in torn tee and jeans, grins at his own "cleverness." Rumy is >here the model respectful Japanese pupil, her eyes anime-wide, her >dress still close to a school uniform. CROW: If she starts yelling about any sort of "something-something" power, I'm leaving. > Will "Vader" half-kneels to >Katherine as if she is the Emperor. (At full height, he's taller than >the others by a full head.) MIKE: And with that second head he has, he's two heads taller than every one. >There are also a few unimportant members here. You're free to create >your own: MIKE: [confused] Gee, um, thanks. TOM: It's EZ-Bake comics. Just add your own cast! > they might guest later in the series! Greg suggested an >older type, TOM: Forrest J. Ackerman? > or perhaps a gold-digging speculator. CROW: Donald Trump? > And good old Guthrie >"23" can be here as well, though he's been busted down to a minor role >in later issues. TOM: Darn. I was looking forward to seeing more of Guthrie. MIKE: I wonder why he's been demoted? CROW: Politics, Mike. Guthrie kept shooting his mouth off about Vietnam. > Caption: Ten days later. MIKE: [Katherine] Well, thankfully we've dealt with that pesky laser gun problem. Now, who's up for some 'Tron'? > Katherine: Tim. > Tim: Not present! Huh huh huh. TOM: Tim just got here from Ms. Jenner's third grade class. >Katherine: Rumiko. >Rumy: [Japanese script]Hai-- eh-- here. >Katherine: Will. >Will [in special "Star Wars" lettering]: I am here, master. CROW: Wow. Lucas really got weird in this version of the Special Edition. >Katherine: First order of state: we couldn't get the Mystery Science >Theater version, so we're going with the original 1922 "Can-Can >Vampires." [Silence] MIKE: Er, was that one of Joel's? >Katherine: Second order of state: Rikk thinks the attackers at the con >were pawns of a higher power, even though their actions displayed the >canny strategy of a drunken Falstaff. CROW: That's still better than Clinton's strategy. >Katherine(linked): We, that is, I, think Rikk is being a Mulder. >Katherine(linked): Other opinions? TOM: I think he's closer to Art Bell, myself. > PAGE EIGHT >1. Rumy looks at Rikk respectfully, even as the other hand begins to >sketch. The left hand really doesn't know what the right hand is >doing. (From most angles it looks as if she's taking notes.) >Rumy: "Mulder." Does that mean you blame your government? CROW: Or do you blame Chris Carter? > Rikk: I'm not sure. >2. Rikk spreads his arms symmetrically in panel center, connoting >extreme balance. Behind him we sketch the faces of possible enemies: >Bill Gates, TOM: It can't be him. He's been on the pro rodeo circuit since '98. Them cowpokes don't have time to deal with them sci-fi fans. > Newt Gingrich, MIKE: No, he and Livingston have been bar hopping since they got kicked out. CROW: Slumming with ex-Speakers. For shame, Bill. > the X-Files' Cancer Man, even an evil Mr. >Moneybags from Monopoly. MIKE: Why is Moneybags there? Did he go on a killing spree after buying Baltic Avenue? TOM: I think he's been using the Reading Railroad to ship toxic waste to that dump on Pacific Avenue. > Katherine also stands to one side, scornful >arms crossed. (Lumping Katherine in with the "enemies" background is >deliberate. She may yet become Rikk's enemy, if his leadership skills >take root.) CROW: Wow. Sneaking in some subtle symbolism. Neat. TOM: Yeah, I'm sure it would be more effective IF WE COULD SEE THE ACTUAL IMAGE INSTEAD OF THE SCRIPT!! >Rikk: They're power players and they hate fans. That could make them >politicians, media mavens, computer designers... and who knows? Maybe >government agents. >Katherine: Maybe time travelers. MIKE: Maybe street mimes. Who knows? >Katherine (linked): You don't know, do you? >3. Tim refuses to take this seriously, while Will gestures the way >Vader does when Vader wants to snuff an underling. CROW: That involves flapping your arms like a bird, right? TOM: No, it's that "hailing a taxicab" move of Vader's. >Tim: I think we should go after swimsuit models. MIKE: Always a good, general-purpose plan. > They were probably >jealous of Dotty and &*$ed Clinton into doin' this. CROW: Wow! This conspiracy goes all the way up to Roger Clinton! >Rikk (op): uh... >Will: (("Vaper gestured, and the foolish general's throat crumpled. >Gasping, he sank and died.")) TOM: And, if that doesn't work, Will's just going to throw Tim in front of a bus. > PAGE NINE >1. Katherine's scepter (in silhouette) fails to intimidate Tim. MIKE: Well, shadow theater just doesn't pack the same punch as live actors. TOM: Except in our case, of course. >Katherine: One more outburst, Tim, and you are banished. CROW: Years later, Tim would return from exile, dissolve the Second Republic and invade Germany. >Tim: Don'cha mean excommunicated? >2. Rikk tries to restore order with a wave. MIKE: Rikky-Wan Kenboi, Jedi Padawan. >Katherine: That's clergy!! >Tim (off-panel): Awright, don't get your medieval panties in a bunch. >Rikk: People-- TOM: In this room? Where? >3. Will yanks off his Vader mask and yells openly. >Will: Look, do you want to get hit? Huh? Would you like that? CROW: Heck, I'd like that! >4. Tim keeps grinning obnoxiously, and we see the edge of Rumy's face. >She breaks her pencil. MIKE: Complaints from the Pencil Protection League soon poured into Campbell's office. >Tim: Ooh, kinky! Maybe Rumy could join in an'-- > SFX: skrrRITCH >5. We see what Rumy's been drawing: the other members in manga style. >Rikk and Katherine look almost "real," but Tim has a nosebleed (the >manga symbol for lust) MIKE: It is? Why? CROW: Because in manga, drooling uncontrollably is a symbol for happiness. TOM: And the, ahem, the other popular physical cue means, in manga, that they're composing light opera. > and Will has a background of flames. CROW: That symbolizes sleepiness in manga. MIKE: Thanks. I'll take it from here. >All this drawing is on a scrap of cheap spiral notebook paper, the >edges of which define the panel borders. >SFX: SLAP >6. One of the sorority sisters turns to the other. >Sister: Hey... this isn't the AQW meeting! [Mike and Crow laugh, rather unconvincingly.] MIKE: Yep, the comic relief. TOM: Darn. I thought that Psi Phi would pop up here. CROW: You can't be right all the time. >7. Rumy covers her mouth in mortification. Tim holds his cheek, but >little hearts float around his head: now he's convinced she wants him. TOM: Mike, in manga, little hearts mean that they're constipated. MIKE: Thanks. My understanding of Japanese culture is complete now. >Rumy: I'm... I'm sorry. >Tim: Don't mention it... >8. Seen from behind, Katherine has to restrain the maddened Will with >a hammerlock. (No, she's no match for him physically, but Will won't >try his hardest against her.) CROW: Faans! The first comic with built-in psychoanalysis! > Rikk stands to one side, paralyzed by >these developments. MIKE: Rikk sounds like the Republican party, paralyzed by developments. >Will: Can't I kill him just a LITTLE bit? >Katherine: Not-- while-- he's-- unarmed! >9. Now seen from the front, Rikk tries to re-establish order, but he's >drowned out-- literally drowned in word balloons. MIKE: My uncle went that way. >Balloon: Yes, yesss. Give in to the dark side, Will... CROW: Just think of Jar Jar and the Ewoks singing N'Synch\ songs. That should send him over the edge. >Balloon: Stop mocking my temper! TOM: [Will] I get so angry when people mock my temper! >Balloon: Rikk, give me a hand here! >Balloon: SHOW THE MOVIE! CROW: Yeah! Better them than us! >Balloon: Well, I think Charlie X was much more stable than Captain >Pickard... >Balloon: SHOW THE MOVIE! ALL: PUSH THE BUTTON ALREADY! > PAGES TEN-ELEVEN >1. Katherine in a sexy black dress, the kind her body type wears well. >She leans seductively against what looks like a doorway. CROW: It's a good thing the fire department's not doing an inspection. Blocking a doorway is a violation of the fire code. >Katherine: Well? >Katherine: Seem I a tasty wench? A sugared sweetmeat? MIKE: A supreme pizza? A hot fudge sundae? A glass of Bosco? >Katherine: Ready to forgive me yesterday's scuffle, Willy boy? >Will: You're not there yet, hon. TOM: [Will] You're still in Stage one of "Will's Penance Cavalcade." There are still 43 more stages to go... >2. We pull back to show Katherine and Will in a large costume shop. >Katherine is actually leaning against a changing screen. Special >sections for Smirk toupees and Spahk ears. A line of masks represents >"South Park" and other icons. CROW: Hey, look! They've got the complete set of 'Providence' masks! MIKE: I was hoping for some of those neat 'Tea with Mussolini' ones, m'self. > Will, opposite from Katherine, wears a >Wolverine suit and examines his own claws. TOM: [Will] I wonder what color nail polish would look good on these? >(Apart from that, there are more of the background characterizations >you did so well on pages 3 and 5, but weighted toward costuming this >time.) CROW: Well, you didn't have to compliment my artistic skills. [pause] But I *am* good, aren't I? >Will: Still too rehearsed. TOM: She's still better than David Boreanaz though. >Will: ((Hm. Shoddy metalwork.)) > 3. Will jumps back a few paces. MIKE: Then he hops forward. Hop, hop, hop. >Will: Follow my lead. CROW: Wow! Maybe he is doing the bunny hop! > Live the character. TOM: [Will] I'll go enroll you in a method acting school right now. >Will (linked): "Look, frail, I don't know who you are or why I'm here, >but stay back till I feel a little more trustin', all right?" >4. Katherine steps back, hand covering her breast in a medieval >gesture of modesty. CROW: And then she bit her thumb in a medieval gesture... MIKE: Let's move on, shall we? >Katherine: "Thy speech-- thy claws-- art thou man or demon?" MIKE: [Katherine] Or art though some sort of wallaby? >Will: "Maybe both." TOM: Man, demon, and wallaby? He's a jack of all trades! >Katherine:... >5. Now Katherine (or her character) looks up at Will with courage and >real admiration, not the mischief she'd tried earlier. Will's >expression softens... CROW: ...as the Prozac kicks in. >Katherine: "I would thou wert a man. A knight, mayhap, wi' hands made >weapons in some dank dungeon." >Katherine (linked): "False scars ne'er hid noble heart." > Will: >cough< TOM: The pollen count must be high in the costume store. >6. Will turns, toward the window, where we see the edge of a mob of >pocket-protector nerds, armed with bricks, torches, and other >property-damage weapons-- no knives or guns. MIKE: Still other nerds arrive with the ultimate property damage weapon, a drunken Axl Rose. > There's a racial and >gender mix, but they're unnerving in their overall sameness. They all >wear the same glasses as the geeks in the first scene. (By some >unknown cartooning principle, these glasses block all visibility of >the pupil.) MIKE: Ah. The 'Jason Fox Principle' at work. >Will: What the zark--? >Katherine: Hey, perverts! Get cable! ALL: [growl] CROW: Stop bringing up cable! TOM: The puppet show! Gone! MIKE: It'll all work out in the end, guys. > PAGE TWELVE >This page is dominated by a computer screen-- Tim's screen. Tim has >logged onto a chat room, so most of the page is text. (A transcript of >the conversation follows. I'll letter it, and edit it as space >requires.) MIKE: That's rather generous, if you forgot that he's supposed to be lettering and editing it. >On top of the screen is Tim's custom-designed toolbar. He's replaced >the icons of Netscape Navigator with things far more Tim-like: TOM: Pictures of power tools? MIKE: Wrong Tim. >squiggly arrows for "Back" and "Forward," an outhouse for "Home," TOM: My "Home" icon has inbred cannibals on it. > an >arrow that loops in on itself for "Reload," a nudie silhouette for >"Images," CROW: That'd really be more appropriate for a "Mud Flap" icon. > a broken lock for "Open," a picked nose for "Find," MIKE: Suddenly, I'm glad this is text. TOM: I dunno. I'm kind of curious on how they would draw that. > graffiti >for "Print," CROW: And the police continue their manhunt for the mysterious "El Timmo." > an open toilet for "Stop." MIKE: And our frightening look into Tim's psyche is now thankfully complete. TOM: Next up, we take a look at Rikk's obsession with shoes... > In place of the NN symbol is a >logo for "WebTitanic," showing the sinking ship. CROW: Click on that, and your 'heart_of_the_ocean.gif' file will vanish from your hard drive. >Rumiko4/2: trying to say (forgive me, I'm still thinking in >Japanese) is that I do consult Kirpy for action sequences. CROW: [Rumiko] And I consult Eleanor Roosevelt for politics, and Ed Gein when I need to disembowel someone... >He was king of action. But he was not king of comics. MIKE: That'd be Jerry Lewis, of course. >JK333: Hav yu guys red TANFASTIC #9 awesum >Siskel: that's clairmont and the new guy stoopid >Demon6669: PINKY STINKIES CROW: I see Kevin Smith dropped in to plug his comic shop. >Grambo: i see your point. comics are more than zap, pow, >and krakadoom... i'm looking for some MEANING, not >just repetition. >Slayer: kirpy wuz the greatest still iz MIKE: The greatest artist? Yep. CROW: The greatest writer? Sure. TOM: The greatest skateboarder? You bet. MIKE: The greatest actor? Absolutely. CROW: The greatest Man of Mystery? Uh-huh. TOM: The greatest C++ programmer? For sure. MIKE: He's just the best. >Demon6669: HOSTESS TOM: Er, Dolly Madison? MIKE: Well, at least it's an authentic recreation of a chat room. CROW: Except no one's asking, "So, what are you wearing?" ad infinitum. >Siskel: he's dead dumb@$$ >Rumiko4/2: Is it always this crowded "in here?" >Demon6669: SPIDERGIRL 69 TOM: o/~ Weaves whatever a spider hurls... o/~ >Grambo: if you like, we can adjourn to a private room. >Siskel: shut up you fool >Rumiko4/2: I've got to get to the comic shop soon... but OK. >DthStrIk: is ANYONE here to talk about merchandise? MIKE: I've got these neat trans-axles for a '72 Gremlin... >Rumiko4/2: I should warn you... I'm under twenty-one. >Grambo: no worries. i'm under twelve >Demon6669: ROACH MOTEL SEX CROW: Wasn't that the Ramones' 1983 album? >Entering: BillZ43, Mulder46 >Leaving: Rumiko4/2, Grambo, Demon6669 MIKE: As well as 'Mike787343476377299'. CROW: 'Csyndrome'. TOM: And 'Likethewind'. > PAGE THIRTEEN >1. Tim sits in his room, illuminated by his large computer monitor. >He's still wearing jeans. One wonders if he uses the same pair every >day. There's a splotch on his T-shirt that's better left unexplained. CROW: Odds are it has something to do with those missing teenagers... MIKE: Or those missing pies from the fridge. >Tim: ((Ahhh yeahhh... roach motel sex.)) TOM: That's where you expect to have sex, but are instead trapped in a glue-like substance and die, right? MIKE: If so, I'm all for it. >2. Tim's expert, if pudgy, fingers move over the keyboard. Rather than >the traditional QWERTYUIOP, the keys are arranged in the Dvorak >pattern: >`1234567890[] CROW: Well, so far the liftoff looks pretty good for the shuttle. >"<>PYFGCRL?+ >AOEUIDHTNS- >:QJKXBMWVZ TOM: So, the Dvorak keyboard causes you to type out random letters and numbers? CROW: I don't see how that helps you type better. >Tim: ((Guess I'll see how our "Venus Attacks" fandom site's doin'. >Should have people talkin' by now...)) MIKE: [Tim] Or calling their Congressmen for appropriate legislation. >3. A "Search" box appears onscreen, with "word" the category and >"attacks fandom" filled in. TOM: At least he's not heading over to that Jennifer Lopez website. >Tim: ((We snuck enough rude codewords into the HTML ta get nuns >horny.)) >4. Tim's eye widens in surprise. MIKE: [Tim] Damn! Even I don't remember putting that one on the site! Wow. She sure is limber... So is that llama... > This panel's inset into the next one. >Tim:...Whuh? >5. The bottom of Tim's search. We can see, from the logo at the >screen's very bottom, that he's using a search engine called >WebSucker. Its symbol is an eight-eyed cartoon spider with a fly in >its mouth. CROW: He searched the spider to find a fly? TOM: Well, I don't know why he's searching for flies. MIKE: Perhaps he'll die. >Above that, there's space (more or less) for the following reports: >8. NewsBolt 10/30/98 FANDOM ATTACKS In Nevada, three alleged fans of >the TV show Slippers poured oil onto the floor of a Starbuck's today, >then scattered twenty-sided dice on it "to demonstrate how... MIKE: ...dice will roll on an oil-covered floor? >9. ObitNet Ron Prelman, star of the bodice-ripping Beautician and the >Beast, who rose to riches but lost it all through managing Marvy >Comics, nearly died yesterday in a series of fandom-related attacks... CROW: So, if he didn't die, why is he in the obits? >10. whuhwhuhwhuh.sciencology.com X. Roe Hubert would NEVER have >condoned the disgraceful attacks on society that his fandom has >perpetrated! Over eighty percent of shots fired missed their >intended... TOM: As we all know, the key to having a spiritually pure wathan is having good marksmanship. > 1-10 of 348 > PAGE FOURTEEN >1. Ferd Vermith on the tube, giving a public speech and looking very >likable and trustworthy. He's framed in a TV-shaped panel (as in page >1) while his speech is printed to the right. TOM: \ / ___\__/__ [ ] [ ] Like so. [ ] -------- MIKE: Will you please stop that? >Ferd: It seems a harmless temptation. It takes time for this obsession >to distance you from family, from friends. But the moment you let it >inside of you, it starts chipping at your foundations. >"Fan" is short for "fanatic." Fan-dom is a religion. CROW: In fact, the ancient Sumerians were its first followers. TOM: Their main god was the mighty "Shat-nor", who was later followed by the wise "Jhonluk." CROW: Tragically, their civilization ended in a violent civil war fought between the two factions over who was better. > Many of us have >unacknowledged religions in our lives. Some worship the god of money. >Others, the god of popularity... MIKE: Still others worship the god of processed cheese snacks. CROW: Or the goddess of low interest rates. TOM: And a handful worship the god of blended whiskey. And with good reason. >2. Now Ferd looks deeply remorseful. Same panel format as panel 1. >Ferd: And yet others, the god of dreams, of make-believe, of lies. >That god wastes lives. MIKE: Although not as many as Tumbar, the life-wasting god. CROW: And even Tumbar is a slacker compared to the folks at the USA Network. > In public policy, he can wreak havoc. Remember >President Raygun's...-- Reagan's "Star Wars" disaster? MIKE: I remember that. Reagan banned all of the Admiral Ackbar figures, thinking that they were being used in some sort of Soviet Plot. Then it turned out that they were just a red herring. > And he's >corrupting our children with his pornographic Japanese cartoons! MIKE: Wow. We must be watching Charles Grodin. CROW: Nah. It's too coherent to be Grodin. >3. A busy newsroom, filled with computers, people at phones, reporters >racing for coffee, etc. On the walls are a couple of headlines... MIKE: "Surgeon General warns against smoking any brand of cigarettes other than Chesterfield." CROW: "Sinatra warns Russkies to knock it off." TOM: "Nancy Reagan ends nation's drug problem with very special Diff'rent Strokes appearance." >DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN, CLARK KENT IS SUPERMAN, METEOR TO STRIKE EARTH. [The bots begin to snicker.] CROW: Say, Mike. There's another one you can keep from hitting the Earth. TOM: Yep. Everyone's counting on you... [The bots begin to laugh uncontrollably.] MIKE: Yeah. Ha-ha. [mumbling] This from the "rotisserie baseball" people. >The television is on to the left, displaying Vermith's face. To the >right is the office of one Charles Munden, Editor in Chief. CROW: Munden? Oh, that's subtle. MIKE: I guess R. Eli Clueless will be in a later chapter. > Says so on >his door and everything. TOM: Oh. Thanks. >TV: These attacks sadden me. But they do not surprise me. Fandom is a >cult. They worship a meteor they will not admit is a passing plane. > TV: Paid for by the Committee to Elect Ferd Vermith. MIKE: I see that Fred is trying to tap into that massive "anti-fan" vote out there. TOM: Well, since his opponent has the "anti-Jar Jar Binks" vote tied up, it's the only group he can shoot for. >Munden (off-panel): Laser pistols? Cochran... CROW: If the laser does not light, you must aquite. > PAGE FIFTEEN >1. Shanna sits, the picture of poise, in Munden's office. CROW: Nearby, Michael Douglas and Wayne Knight prepare to interrogate her. > A bit less >formal than before, her clothes are still pretty businesslike. She >begins reaching into her handbag. TOM: Hey, Munden! Watch me pull a rabbit outta my purse! >Shanna: I have witnesses. >Munden: No, you have laser-heads. CROW: Laser-heads? MIKE: You know, the people who hang around the optics lab at lunch, talking about diffraction rates and beam width. TOM: The same ones who read "Laser and Guider"? CROW: Oh. *Them.* > Get real sources. TOM: Sources? He wants sources? MIKE: Well, Shanna's not working at the Inquirer then. CROW: Or CNN. >Shanna: I thought you'd feel that way, Mr. Munden... >2. Mr. Munden is balding fast and no longer wears a tie, but his broad >shoulders and suit still give him an air of authority. He's looking at >one of the guns from the first scene. He is disturbed by Shanna's >recklessness, NOT worried she might shoot him. TOM: The police later determined that was his first mistake. >Shanna: So I brought this. MIKE: [Shanna] It's my Furby. It'll tell you everything that went down at the con. CROW: [Furby] Blah blah blah blah blah floop blah blah. MIKE: [Shanna] You do speak Furbish, right? >Munden: You... removed evidence from a crime scene? TOM: [Shanna] Heck sure! What are those silly police officers going to do with a piece of evidence anyway? >3. She points the gun out an open window, towards the sky. She's >getting ready to show him it shoots lasers, not bullets. She looks at >him with pride. CROW: [Shanna] When Munden sees how good of a shot I am, he'll *have* to give me a raise! >Shanna: I had to. You need proof, right? >4. Her hand pulls the trigger; the gun fails to fire. TOM: So, it's an American-made laser gun then. >SFX: klika klika [The bots laugh hysterically.] MIKE: What? TOM: Oh, that's bot-speak for "they're not paying me enough for this." >5. Mr. Munden looks intensely skeptical. MIKE: Just like James Randi. >Shanna: All right. So it only had one charge. If you hire a handyman, >we'll take it apart... >Munden: Cochran. >6. Shanna waves her scorched pad at him (from page 5). CROW: I sure hope he can see it from 10 pages away. >Shanna: Look here! What sane woman would do this to her own notes? MIKE: [Shanna] Why would someone want to burn their notes to see that beautiful, all-consuming flame? O sweet cleanser of all, you will be free again. Oh, yes, you will.... >7. Munden looks even more skeptical. >8. Sobering, Munden speaks. >Munden: Cochran, I assigned you here 'cause I figured you're young, >you can get in these college kids' heads. Maybe you're too far in. TOM: [Munden] Martin Sheen refuses to go after you again if you get too caught up. If that happens, we'll have to send Joe Estevez after you. > PAGE SIXTEEN >This page has the same background all the way through. It's a two- >point perspective: two sections of hallway at right angles to each >other. At the end of the left hall is a door that leads to daylight. CROW: It is symbolism, or just the door to the parking lot? >1. Shanna is trudging away from that door now, towards us. On the >other side races Jimmy, a teenage intern who just screams youth. TOM: Oh, great! Now the newspaper has a Kid's Crew! MIKE: I think it's just a kid's editorial staff. > I >mean, this guy makes Rikk look old. He's got the latest hairstyle, the >latest clothes, the latest everything. CROW: He's even got one of those new laser pistols that are so popular these days. >Caption: "Take a few days off from news and the nutcases. And turn >that gun in to Howard in accounting." MIKE: [Munden] He'll need it. The marketing boys got shorted on their commissions again and they're screaming for blood. > Shanna (little voice): Stay away from news?... > Shanna (lv): Everything's news... TOM: Except for Chinese espionage, of course. MIKE: Tom, let's avoid the political stuff, okay? TOM: But Sean Hannity said... MIKE: When you live in Hannity's house, you can do political riffs. Until then, lay off, okay? >Jimmy: >huffhuffhuffhuff< CROW: [Jimmy] Heart. Pounding. After. Twenty. Feet. Of. Running. [Pant] Shouldn't. Have. Eaten. Side. Of. Bacon. For. Breakfast. [Pant] >2. Predictably, Shanna and Jimmy collide where the two hallways meet. >Neither fall over. TOM: Because they're weebles. >Shanna & Jimmy: OOF! >Jimmy: Sorry. >Shanna: What's your hurry? MIKE: [Shanna] Is another one of those wonderful Star Wars commercials with the Colonel and that little chihuahua on? >3. Jimmy's resumed running. He's already most of the way to the door. >Just a little into the right hallway, Shanna watches him go. >Jimmy: Mob out by the college costume shop! 'Sall over the wires! >Gottago... this could be somebody's break! CROW: And the incredibly subtle attempt to move the plot vanishes without a trace. >4. The door has now swung open, and Jimmy's already out of sight. >Poised between the two hallways, Shanna stares at the door. MIKE: Meanwhile, behind Jimmy, a giant flashing sign reading "Plot this way!" has appeared. TOM: And a giant sign is pointing us towards the door too. Let's go. [Mike picks up Tom and they all exit.] [1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . . ] [The Bridge] [Mike is speaking on the phone. A coffee cup sits nearby.] MIKE: ...uh-huh. And how's cousin Andy?... Wow. Straight A's. And how'd he do with the swim team? Uh-huh. Wow. That's good. And how was your vacation to Branson? [Crow enters, wearing a pair of glasses that make him look pupil-less. He strides over to Mike.] CROW: Hi Mike. MIKE: ...Andy Williams? Wow, I thought he was dead. No, no. I didn't mean that.... Yeah, I like when he sings that 'my huckleberry friend' line too... Uh-huh. CROW: Well, I've become possessed by these glasses, and I feel like doing some random property damage. Eeeyah! [Crow swings his arms at Mike's coffee cup, succeeding in moving it a few inches.] MIKE: Hang on for a sec. [Mike places his hand over the phone's mouthpiece.] Crow? I'm on the phone with my Aunt Edna. Can you go play somewhere else? CROW: Oh, okay. I'll go and try and kill Tom then. MIKE: [not really listening] You do that. [Mike removes his hand from the mouthpiece and resumes speaking. Crow exits to the left.] MIKE: Sorry about that. So, how was the State Fair? [A loud crash can be heard off-screen.] Wow. The tomatoes were that big? No, I didn't know cherry tomatoes grew to that size. [Crow re-enters from the left, missing an arm.] CROW: I, uh, had a little accident. [He exits to the right. Mike seems oblivious to Crow.] MIKE: ...Tomato flavored cotton candy? Was it good?... Well, if it had had more garlic would it have been good? [Crow appears, stage right. He's in his usual pristine shape.] CROW: Okay, let's try this again. [Crow crosses the stage and exits stage left.] MIKE: ...So, how's Cousin Will? [Crashes can again be heard off-screen] He was run over by a wheat thresher? Wait. I thought he was a trader on Wall Street? [Crow enters again, looking rather burned. He exits without speaking.] MIKE: Wow. I wonder how it got on the trading floor? ... So, they still ended up 43 points though. That's good.... Well, I'm glad your mutual fund is up. [Crow re-enters, carrying a chainsaw. He quickly exits.] MIKE: ...No, I haven't invested in any high tech firms. I don't really have much in the way of liquid funds right now... [Off in the background, a chainsaw revs up. Moments later, Crow screams. Loudly.] MIKE: ...well this job doesn't pay much... But I can't find another job while I'm trapped up here! [Crow enters, cradling his detached head in his arms. The glasses are still attached though.] CROW: Had a little accident. Heh. [Crow exits.] MIKE: ...I guess I could telecommute... No, I haven't found someone yet. How can I? [Crow enters again, wielding a large ax. He leaves as quickly as he appears.] MIKE: ..well, there's not really many places up here to meet women... [A young blonde woman wearing a 'BBI Staff' polo shirt enters from the right carrying a baseball bat. She looks quite annoyed.] BEEZ: Excuse me, Mike. [She exits to the left.] MIKE: ...No! I'm not going to get a mail order bride! Remember Uncle Karl's experience with his? [Tom strolls into view, stage right. He walks up to Mike.] TOM: Hey Mike? You seen Crow? [Mike covers the mouthpiece] MIKE: He's over there. [motioning to the left] Do you want me to call him? TOM: Nah. It's not important. [Tom exits back to the right. Mike uncovers the mouthpiece.] MIKE: Yes, yes! I'm saying that Aunt Bessie was... No, she's nice, but she's a cow... [A shout of 'Bill!' can be heard off-screen, followed by crashes, and some Crow-like shouts of terror.] MIKE: Yes, 600 pounds is rather slim for a Herford, but you're missing my point! [Crow reenters, sans glasses, moving rather unsteadily.] MIKE: Look, Aunt Edna, I've got to go. Things are rather hectic up here right now. Uh-huh. Yeah, I love you too. Bye. [Mike hangs up the phone and sighs loudly. He turns towards Crow.] MIKE: Boy, family. [Crow's beak moves unevenly with his words, in addition to his unusual speaking voice.] CROW: [Beez] Can't live with them, can't live without them. MIKE: Hey, are you feeling okay? What happened to your glasses? CROW: [Beez] Oh, I took them off. I realized that I'm the end product of countless hundreds of man hours of a skilled craftsperson's work, and by destroying me three times in one scene, I might be showing disrespect to that craftsperson, in addition to increasing her workload when she's getting ready to go on vacation. MIKE: Oh. [beat] Well, that's good to hear. [The movie sign begins to flash.] MIKE: Hey, we've got movie sign! CROW: [Beez] Yes, movie sign. [Mike hits the lights, and the door sequence begins.] [6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .] [Crow and Mike enter. tom is already seated.] TOM: Hi Crow. CROW: [Normal voice] Hi Tom. MIKE: Crow? You sound different. CROW: I took some Advil and gave Beez a daquiri. That seems to have calmed her down a bit. > PAGE SEVENTEEN >1. Under a tree sits the woman that freshman geeks dream about, CROW: Well, it's either Alyson Hannigan or Jeri Ryan. TOM: I dunno. Janeane's got an outside chance. >sitting Indian-style and reading a book. To one side stands Rikk, >paralyzed with indecision. >Rikk: ((Talk to her.)) MIKE: just call 10-10-35896512482456854624568648134! It's easy! >Rikk: ((Forget it.)) CROW: Yeah. She's probably deaf anyway. >Rikk: ((She's reading Clarke.)) TOM: [haughty sniff] He only dates *Asimov* fans. >Rikk: ((She probably hates it.)) MIKE: Well, Locus did pan that one.... >Rikk: ((Are you an asexual being? Talk! To! Her!)) >2. Rikk looks behind him at two unseen speakers. CROW: We're below you, Rikk! MIKE: And there are *three* of us. >Off-panel voice #1: Y'hear? They're tearin' down Masq's! CROW: Damn that Starbucks! Can't they leave anything untouched? >Off-panel voice #1: Cool. Let's go watch! >3. Rikk jogs off. Duty calls. MIKE: The sci-fi club. It's not just a hobby, it's an adventure. >Rikk: >sigh< >4. A brick goes through a shop window. > SFX: KIIISH MIKE: And that's bot-speak for what...? CROW: [icily] We don't know, *Mike*. TOM: [icily] That's Brickish, not bot-speak. Do all silicon based life forms look alike to you? Hmm? CROW: [mumbling] Siliciaphobe. >5. The nerds start pillaging the store. Here are some things they say >(if there's room): >Kill the demons! >Heh-heh, fashion terrorism >Bakusaitenketsu! >Heeya! Heeya! >BANZAI! MIKE: And here's some more phrases: "Got any gum?" CROW: "The future is Forsaken! The future is Forsaken!" TOM: "Need Wave 26 Chewie! Need Wave 26 Chewie!" MIKE: "I've got a brand new pair of rollerskates! You've got a brand new key!" CROW: "Keep on truckin'!" TOM: "Ladies and gentlemen, your 1999 Amarillo Gold Sox!" > Katherine: ((What can I-- What-- Think!)) >6. Will sticks his claws in front of a nerd's face. >Will: Stop. >Nerd#2: Uh... >Will: ((These things couldn't cut butter.)) CROW: Thankfully, these are those new, buttery, nerds. >7. Somebody jumps on Will's back and pulls a pair of glasses over his >face. MIKE: This better not turn into a replay of that fight scene from "They Live." > Will: HEY! TOM: [Will] These aren't even my style! I mean, would Wolverine ever wear hornrims? > PAGE EIGHTEEN >1. An endless stream of random trivia flows through Will's head, MIKE: They're either beaming George Will or us in there. CROW: I hope it's us. I don't want to hear another speech on baseball. > his >upper body, and the space around him, making him almost invisible. His >expression goes blank. TOM: He's still more expressive than David Boreanaz. >Will: [blank balloon] TOM: The letterer's mind has gone blank too. >2. Still dazed, he looks at the nerd mob with awe. The mob looks back, >warmly: welcome to the family. CROW: Nerd marriage ceremonies are really weird. TOM: I'll say. I thought they involved getting dressed up as a Klingon or Princess Armadillo. > The nerd he stopped hands him a brick. MIKE: ...after Will pays him the rental deposit, of course. >Will: You're... everything you're doing... makes so much sense... >Nerd #2: Here's your brick. MIKE: Work really hard, and maybe they'll promote you to baseball bat. >3. Katherine and the store employees charge out of the store with >everything they can possibly carry. Katherine's the most extreme: >she's wearing a magicians hat, magic scarf, Tolkien rings, several >dresses over each shoulder, or anything else you can think of. TOM: '57 Chevys? MIKE: Copies of "The King in Yellow"? CROW: Cartons of sherbet? > One of >the employees is dressed like the Mona Lisa (making some kind of >symbolic statement about art or something). TOM: Yet another is dressed like a can of Campbell's Soup for the same reason. CROW: Still another was dressed like Kool-Mo-Dee.... >SFX: WRASH SHRIPPP BANG KRAKLAKLAKLAKL >Katherine: That's it. You drop something, don't look back. MIKE: [Katherine] Unless it's that copy of "The Star Trek Kama Sutra." Protect that one at all costs! >4. Rikk catches up to the carnage just as Will finishes smashing the >shop. >Rikk: Will? >Rikk: ((Stiff movements, slack facial muscles... Like Sara Jane Jones >in those Dr. Which episodes...)) TOM: Like David Boreanaz... CROW: Would you lay off him? He's a perfectly good actor. [The bots are quiet for a moment, then burst into laughter. Mike stares at them, then shrugs his shoulders.] >5. One female nerd stands smack in the middle of it all, exalted over >what she's been a part of. MIKE: But since this is a family book, we'll skip over her experiences. > The others are already leaving the frame, >Will near the back. >Female nerd: It... it was so easy... aren't the cops...? TOM: Her words are cut short as throngs of maddened police officers cut them down in a hail of gunfire. MIKE: [Cop] That'll teach them to torch the costume shop. CROW: [Cop] They've ruined our upcoming police production of "Grease." [sniff] And my poodle skirt was almost ready too... >Nerd: We'll make 'em see through our eyes. TOM: [Nerd] Okay, since they're not wearing our prescription, everything will be all blurry .... >ALL: HEH HEH HHEH HEHEHEH HEH >6. The crowd runs away from the building, everyone in step. MIKE: I guess they've got the beat. > Will tries >to follow, but Shanna's hand grabs his arm. >Nerd: Onward! Places to see... things to go... people to do! >Shanna: Not you, Badger-Boy. MIKE: Savage? Is that you? > I want to know what's going on here! > PAGE NINETEEN >1. Shanna in bird's eye view (Will's POV). She's sticking a microphone >in his face, its wire trailing into her handbag. CROW: Tape recorders are actually common accessories in the purses of today. MIKE: And you're aware of this because...? CROW: I need to accessorize, Mike. >Shanna: You're dressed like a customer. Why did you turn on this >store? What were you thinking? MIKE: [Shanna] Were you hopped up on goofballs? Was it because you saw "You've Got Mail"? Did Will Farrell put you up to this? >2. Will in worm's eye view (Shanna's POV). >Will: That's what makes it easy... >Will: I don't have to think about it... >Shanna: Show me those glass-- CROW: She's after your Demolition Man Cup collection! TOM: Run, Will, run! >3. He elbows Shanna aside, waving his claws. >Shanna: Watch the claws! >4. Will tears the claws off his right-hand glove. Rikk's off-panel. MIKE: But Rikk's attempt to escape the story was sadly for naught. >Will: Oops... I'll retract them. >Rikk: Hey. >Rikk: Idiot. >5. Rikk leans against a brick wall, projecting supreme confidence, >even arrogance. TOM: It might also be that he completely lacks any sense of self-preservation. >Rikk: ((Forgive me, Will.)) >Rikk: They've got you brainwashed, stupid. Anyone but a milksop >would've shaken it off by now. CROW: Unless... maybe Will's in Don King's stable. >6. Having walked to Will, Rikk hits him very lightly. MIKE: See? If he worked for Don King, he'd have hit the floor when he was hit. >Rikk: Don't tell me you're not strong enough. I've seen you drink a >whole Clingon Clan under the table. CROW: They're like Klingons, but they get giggly after a beer or two. >7. Shanna gets the microphone as close as she can. She's trying hard >to read Rikk's motives, but the task is beyond her. >Rikk: Or maybe you like being a tool, you steroid-pumped lurch. MIKE: Now Will sounds like he's on the Oakland Raiders. TOM: Or the WWF. >8. Will's face twists... >Rikk: Oh, by the way... your costumes suck. CROW: [Will] Even my costumes for 'Amadeus'? They were authentic to the period! > PAGE TWENTY >1. Will screams in pain and puts his hands to the glasses' handles. >Through the glasses, we can see his closed eyes. CROW: Darn! Now we can't see the heaven in his eyes. TOM: But when he closes his eyes, does he dream about me? MIKE: [pause] Damn. I can't think of an "Eyes without a Face" riff. TOM: Maybe that's because you've got Marty Feldman eyes. > His scream spreads >over this panel and the next. >2. Will's furious eye is now looking over the lens as the glasses come >off. TOM: And we all know what happens when the glasses come off... MIKE: What? TOM: I was actually hoping you'd tell me. >Will: eeEEYYAAARRRRG! MIKE: Gee. Usually people scream when removing contacts, not glasses. >3. Rikk immediately drops his act; he's flushed with success. >Rikk: You did it, Will! I knew if I just CROW: Just? Just ended the sentence abruptly? How would that help any? >4. Will's punch sends Rikk hurtling through space. TOM: Er, hooray? MIKE: Whammo presents Rock-Em Sock-Em Fanboys! >LARGE SFX: POW >5. Katherine reprimands Will, pointing to where Rikk's come to rest. >Will clutches his forehead, still pained. >Rikk (woozy lettering): So this is what it's like to be listened to... MIKE: [Rikk] No wonder the people on MacNeill-Lehrer always look so worn out.... >Katherine: Was that really necessary? TOM: Sure! CROW: Heck yeah! MIKE: I don't think we get a vote, guys. >Will: Sorry. Couldn't... >Will: control... >6. The glasses in the palm of Will's hand. >Will: Felt like this was cramming the club library in my head. MIKE: [Will] Did you know we had sixteen copies of each of those "Wheel of Time" books? I mean, how many times do you have to say "Men are different from women"? How many times??? > I >was... trying to hit it back. Not Rikk. That make sense? CROW: Sure! TOM: That's how we felt during 'Hobgoblins'. >7. Katherine takes the glasses from Will, and she and Shanna study >them. MIKE: [Shanna] Looks like a pair of glasses. TOM: [Katherine] Yep. Well, let's break for lunch. >Shanna: Not really. But what does, anymore? >Rikk: (woozy) Oh, look... hyperspace... >Tim: >huff< Hey guys! Guys! MIKE: [Tim] They've got a sale on back issues over at the comic store! We better hurry before all of those 'ROM Space Knight' issues are gone! > PAGE TWENTY-ONE >1. Tim's clutching his chest and wheezing, leaning up against the >wall. He isn't built for running as long as he has been. CROW: Heck, he's barely built for breathing as long as he has been. >Tim: Got some >huhh< impor >whuff< >Katherine: Not now, Tim... TOM: [Katherine] ...Raul has penned a lovely filk song about the costume shop burning, and he's going to perform it! >2. To underscore Katherine's point, we see what's left of the shop in >front of Tim, Katherine, and Shanna. The employees Shanna helped are >loading what little they were able to save. The shop itself is little >more than a burnt-out warehouse. MIKE: Still, within moments, brokers swarm into view trying to sell it to a prospective buyer. CROW: Curse that hot real-estate market! > In the corner, Shanna's pocket phone >goes off (hence SFX). >Katherine: It's been a really bad day. >Tim: Buh-- >SFX: BAWWWP TOM: I thought cell phones went CHIIRRRRP. MIKE: No, those are electronic bird calls. TOM: How about BRIINNNGGG? MIKE: Old style phone. CROW: EHHHHENHHHH? MIKE: That's Ernie's laugh. CROW: So, what do they sound like then? MIKE: It's a TWEEEEEEDLE. BOTS: Ooooh. That's it. >3. Shanna on the phone. Businesslike. >Shanna: Hello? >Phone: Hello. This is Shanna Cochran? MIKE: [Shanna] Yes. And you can skip the "If the number ain't right, you must say 'nite'" joke. I've heard it. >4. Shanna on the phone. Curious. >Shanna: Yes? >Phone: This is Rumiko Tanaka. This is an emergency! CROW: [Rumiko] No, it doesn't involve a flying turtle. No, Jet Li's not involved either. No, it doesn't involve the Triangle of Zinthar either! Will you just let me speak? >5. Shanna on the phone. Annoyed. >Shanna: How did you get this number? TOM: Information? CROW: Hrmph. 411 is a joke. >Phone: Katherine listed you as a reserve member of the Club. >6. Shanna on the phone. Resigned. TOM: I don't blame her. Munden seems kind of squirrely. But how did she notify Munden? MIKE: It's a cell fax too. >Shanna: She did, did she? >Phone: Ms. Cochran, my career is in jeopardy! TOM: Just like Dav... [Tom stops as the others turn to glare at him.] TOM: Er, o/~Baby? Wooo-ooo-ooo-ooo? o/~ >Shanna: Yours too, hm? MIKE: [Shanna] You'd think that the Senator would like being called the mastermind behind the drug trade in town. It says he's really smart. >7. Shanna on the phone. Patronizing. >Phone: The fans here-- are swarming-- >Shanna: They do that, dear. Try to ignore it. TOM: [Shanna] Just remind yourself that at least you aren't working at Ticketmaster dealing with crazed Phish fans, waiting for their next concert. >8. Rumy is in a comic shop, surrounded by such classic titles as >SLASHKILL, REPACKAGED MAN, and the manga title, DANCE WITH MY OSTRICH. MIKE: From the makers of FAREWELL SWEET SORGHUM and GIZZARD THE WET NOODLE. >Unfortunately, Rumy is the only thing keeping out the very same mob >who just destroyed the costume shop. She's holding the glass doors >closed, barely, while holding the phone receiver between her ear and >shoulder (and no, it's not a wireless phone!) TOM: What? A non-wireless phone? CROW: Where does this comic take place? Some third world nation? TOM: I think it's set in Wisconsin. CROW: Oh. That explains it. MIKE: Hey! >She's understandably strained. >Rumy: I-- >Rumy: think-- >Rumy: you-- >Rumy: mis-- >Rumy: under-- >Rumy: stand. TOM: [Rumy] They're after the Pokemon cards! Curse you Wizards of the Coast for not having a large enough print run!!!!! > PAGE TWENTY-TWO >1. Shanna is still on the phone. Now Tim carries the ball, and for >once he's totally serious. CROW: Well, wouldn't you be serious if the Bronco's defensive line was chasing you? >Shanna: They're at the comic shop now. >Tim: That's what I been saying! >2. A collage of some of the events to which Tim refers. "Vampire" >players rob a blood bank. MIKE: Well, they tried. Unfortunately, they kept tripping over their capes, and their cravats kept cutting off the circulation to their head. > A fantasy gamer stands atop a table, sword >in hand and at the gamemaster's throat. CROW: Dave's showing off his Hackmaster +12 again. > A costumed loser leaps from a >fortieth-story window. TOM: Joel Schmacher! MIKE: Good. >Caption: "Nationwide, these morons're makin' ordinary fen like me look >bad! You name it, they're doin' it." CROW: [Tim] They're even trying to clean up I-25 between mile marker 345 and 346! The Jaycees are really pissed! That's their turf! >Caption: "Time Online's convicted us already, man." MIKE: Granted, they have less credibility online than "Bob's House of News" but it's still a bad thing! >3. Tim sticks his middle finger into his other, clenched hand, >disgusted with modern civilization. TOM: See, in manga that's a symbol for... MIKE: I'm quite aware of the meaning of that gesture, thank you! > Shanna holds the phone away from >her ear but doesn't close it. And Katherine stands there, dropping the >glasses and everything else. >Tim: Fist#$%k the establishment. CROW: [Tim] Don't trust anyone who doesn't watch MST3K! TOM: And we've hit our self-promotion quota! ALL: Huzzah! >Shanna: Time?... MIKE: 11:35 by my watch. >Shanna: All right, Katherine. What do we do here? >Katherine (little voice): Was Rikk... right?... MIKE: [Katherine] It'd be a first.... >Katherine (lv): It's like a plague... >Katherine (lv): We're so small... CROW: But if they drink milk, they'll grow up nice and big! >4. Will helps Rikk pick himself up. Rikk sports a black eye but seems >otherwise undamaged. >Rikk: No, we're not. CROW: He's right. Most fen are quite large.... MIKE: Stop it. >Katherine: But-- >Rikk: A queen wouldn't knuckle under here, Katherine. Neither would a >gnome, or a superhero, or a great reporter. TOM: Actually, gnomes tend to buckle under at the faintest hint of pressure. >Rikk: Neither will I. >5. Rikk's mouth. TOM: o/~ Michael Rennie was ill... o/~ MIKE: Okay, we're over quota on those riffs for the month. TOM: Oh. How about, look! Mick Jagger! MIKE: Okay, that's worse. Go back to the singing. >Rikk: We've always been under siege. The "real world" keeps shoving us >into corners-- so we've built some worlds of our own. CROW: [Rikk] Like this one I made out of ice cream... Hey! Where'd it go? MIKE: [Tim, mouth full] Oh, was that yours? Sorry. >6. Rikk's black eye. >Rikk: Now whoever's controlling these guys, Ferd Vermith, Bill Gates, >whoever, wants to take those worlds away. >Rikk: Well. CROW: Well. TOM: Well? MIKE: Well. ALL: Well! >Rikk: I call that interplanetary war. MIKE: I'd call that stretching an analogy a bit too far. > PAGE TWENTY-THREE >1. The five of them start walking. It's a very slow charge. TOM: It got even slower when they stopped for hot dogs and sodas. > Will >continues to support Rikk, even as the two of them move to the front. >Will really is sorry about hitting Rikk. Rikk is gung-ho, despite not >yet being strong enough to stand. CROW: Gee, Mike. You humans are so ill-designed. TOM: Yeah. Your self-preservation circuits should monitor your health levels. MIKE: I'll make a note of that for version 2.0. > Katherine falls into line behind >them. At this delicate stage, she hasn't yet realized her loss of >authority and registers only worry. TOM: In the next election in Chicago, worry voted six times for the Democratic candidate. > On the other hand, Tim and Shanna >see no reason to mask their continued dislike of each other, even as >Shanna puts her cell phone back to her ear. CROW: [Shanna] Hello? State Farm? Do you have an 'Fan Insurance' Policy? >Rikk: How many does your car hold, Shanna? >Shanna: Counting Tim as three people? >Shanna: Two. >Rikk: ...We'll make that work. MIKE: [Rikk] Some of us will have to convert to negative numbers, but that should be doable. >Katherine: ((...Wait. Shouldn't I have said that?)) Tom: [Katherine] Is that scene stealer taking my lines again? Or did they re-attribute it in the last draft? Ah. I'll find out after this take. >2. Worm's-eye view of the protagonists from behind and below, through >the scratched left lens of the discarded glasses. >Tim: I get the roof! CROW: [Shanna] I'll drive through the car wash on the way. He needs it. >3. A screen image that represents the view through the right lens. >(This image is taken directly from a tiny "broadcast camera" in the >lens itself.) >Thack: Bill Gates? MIKE: No. Wait. That's Anthony Michael Hall. False alarm. > PAGE TWENTY-FOUR >1. Thackerabilitus Sieughiewiecz, MIKE: That's still better than "Yaz Pistachio." CROW: But his friends call him "Slappy" TOM: Thackerabilitus Sieughiewiecz. Wasn't that the name of Ziggy Stardust's drummer? > sitting in a highly ergonomic chair, CROW: He's got those back spasms, y'know. >his fiber-optic fingertips steepled, englobed by screens full of data >(bar graphs, stats on Will and Clara Strudenberry, a world map with >bullseyes on projected strike zones) TOM: Oddly enough, all of the strike zones are centered around Shermer, Illinois. > and the occasional exposed >circuit board. CROW: Look at that primitive circuit architecture! TOM: Well, what do you expect? Those boards date back to 1997! CROW: Wow. The Preolithic era of computing. > He has wires coming out of his ears. All in all, his >room looks like either a sensory overload chamber or the First Church >of Cybernetics. MIKE: Or the average hotel room after the E3 convention. > He himself seems annoyed at the comparison. CROW: [Thack] Hrrmph. Why don't people ever compare me to John Romero? >Thack: That amateur? MIKE: So, is that it? CROW: I guess so. TOM: Well, we're not going to get any resolution just sitting here. MIKE: You're right. Let's skedaddle. [Mike lifts up Tom and the trio exits the theater.] [1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 6 . . .] [The Bridge] [The crew stands behind the main console.] CROW: Hey, Mike? Do you think that you could take over the world with a legion of devoted fans? MIKE: No. [pause] Although they'd probably do pretty well on "Win Ben Stein's Money." TOM: Well, Mike, today's your lucky day! CROW: That's right! The Tom-meister and I have devised a simple plan that should allow you to easily take over the world! TOM: Step one: Get some fans. [The bots turn to look at each other.] CROW: Well, it's rather unlikely that you, Mike, could ever get any fans... MIKE: HEY! CROW: ... so we'll just tell people that you're Robert Duncan McNeill. TOM: Step two: Convince your fans to all go to the Mall of America at the same time. CROW: Step three: have them all meet by the Orange Julius. TOM: While they're there, have them pick up a pineapple julius for me... CROW: Ooh! I'll take one of those big pretzels! MIKE: I'll make note of that. [The mad light begins to flash.] CROW: Step four: At precisely 3:15 PM, have them all walk to the Sox Appeal. TOM: They'll need to buy 20,000 pairs.... [Mike steps away from the bots, who seem oblivious to Mike's absence.] MIKE: Well, let's head from one set of goofballs to the other. [Mike hits the light.] Yes, Pearl? [Castle Forrester] [Pearl sits behind her desk, which is still covered in papers. Observer stands nearby leafing through a copy of the Jar Jar Binks issue of Rolling Stone.] PEARL: Hi, Mike. I'm just trying to wade through the mess that Bobo left behind. Somewhere, on this desk are my credit card bills, and you know how Discover gets when they're not paid... OBSERVER: [interrupting] Pearl, did you know that Jar Jar gave the new TLC CD four and a half stars? PEARL: [icily] That's fascinating, Brain Guy. [To Mike] Anyway, I'm surprised that you're not begging us for mercy. [SoL] [Mike looks a bit confused, which is rather normal for him.] MIKE: Why would I be begging? [Castle Forrester] PEARL: From the horrible story, of course. [SoL] MIKE: Pearl, I hate to tell you this, but the story really wasn't that bad. I kind of liked it, in a goofy sort of way. [Castle Forrester] [Pearl looks stunned.] PEARL: You, you *liked* it? But, but, it was about goofy people trying to save the world! How can it be good? [SoL] MIKE: [shrug] What can I say? It had a certain charm. Besides, it's not as if the characters in a goofy three way marriage or anything. They're just geeks. [Castle Forrester] PEARL: Mike! I've already pre-ordered twelve issues of this! I mean, how could this be any good? Arrrgh! What else can go wrong? [On cue, the door flies open, and Bobo walks in, wearing a Redwings jacket.] BOBO: Lawgiver! I'm back! Somehow, I ended up in some sort of ill-lit area, but I met this lovely street gang and... PEARL: [mumbling] Bobo. Wonderful. [Normal] Bobo, if you're planning to give me any more of those blasted reviews... BOBO: Reviews? Oh no, Lawgiver. While I was in Detroit, I went over to the theater and saw it! It was absolutely wonderful! Especially that Jar Jar person! OBSERVER: Jar Jar? PEARL: Oh no. BOBO: Yes, he was a thoroughly charming character! Meesa weally wiked da Jar Jar. He wassa okeyday! PEARL: Brain Guy! Get him outta here! OBSERVER: I can't! That gibberish is somehow breaking my concentration! PEARL: Mike! You have to help us! [SoL] CROW: ...So, having gained access to Fort Knox, NORAD, and the UPN studios, it is then a trivial matter to take over the world. MIKE: Oh, I'm sorry Pearl. I'd love to help you, but the bots and I are just about to take over the world. Buh-bye. {Castle Forrester] [Bobo is playing a guitar now.] BOBO: o/~ Issa wike wain onna da wedding sun uppie Issa wide no-payie whenna payie youssa did Issa wordies goody youssa no wanna take 'n' whossa dink itta figgures? o/~ PEARL: Mike! Don't leave us in here! OBSERVER: Ah! The pain! Searing through my very soul! PEARL: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, MONTRESSOR! NO!!!! BOBO: o/~ Issa headin' outta Eden, youwsa budder! o/~ [Pearl and Observer scream as the screen goes 'fwoosh.'] \ | / \ | / --- * --- FWOOOOSH! / | \ / | \ Mystery Usenet Theater 3000: "Faans Issue #1" was riffed by Matt Blackwell Original Story by T. Campbell "Mystery Science Theater 3000" and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and copyrighted [c] 1999 by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. "Faans" and its related characters and situations are trademarks and copyrighted [c] 1999 T Campbell and Six Handed Press. All rights reserved. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for non- commercial parody, review, entertainment and commentary purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc., Six Handed Press, or anyone else, is intended or should be inferred. No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s) are or should be implied. All characters in this work are fictional except for those who aren't , and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. For actual copies of "Faans", head on over to www.faans.com or www.graphicsmash.com. Keep circulating the posts. Twang. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- >Rikk: A queen wouldn't knuckle under here, Katherine. Neither would a >gnome, or a superhero, or a great reporter. ----------------------------------------------------------------------