From: neb...@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us (Joseph Nebus) Subject: MSTed: Sonic the Hedgehog--"Altered Destiny" [ 1 / 4 ] Date: 1997/08/11 Message-ID: <5sochf$pf4$1@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us> X-Deja-AN: 263638602 Organization: Blacksburg Electronic Village Newsgroups: alt.fan.mst3k,alt.tv.mst3k,rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc,alt.fan.sonic-hedgehog This is, if my server lets it through, a fairly big Mystery Science Theater 3000 treatment of a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic, "Altered Destiny," written by Keith Aksland, a friend of mine who asked me to look over his story and add lots of cheap jokes and goofy shots at Sonic's expense. If you take Sonic the Hedgehog very seriously, you should probably skip my posts. If you don't, please, read on and, hopefully, enjoy. Thank you very much. Turn off your computer (where applicable). [ Opening theme ] [ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ] [ INT SOL: JOEL, CROW, TOM, and GYPSY are eating ice cream cones. GYPSY's is held in a laboratory beaker stand. ] TOM: Now, cookies and cream, I grant as a worthwhile innovation and, in fact, a positive addition to the ice cream structure. CROW: But... TOM: But modern ice creams have developed such an overdone nature that they become pretentious. CROW: Pretentious? TOM: Yes, overdone and far too ornate for any normal palate. JOEL: [ Looking at camera ] Oh, hold on, guys. Hi, everybody, and welcome to the Satellite of Love. You've caught us in the middle of our ice cream social. GYPSY: And Tom is lecturing. TOM: And for good reason, Gypsy. Who needs to eat a chocolate-vanilla ripple mixture with chocolate fudge segments with M&M candies strewed throughout? CROW: Ooh, I'd like that. GYPSY: Me too. TOM: No, it's overdone. Far too many flavors and textures in each bite-- CROW: You don't bite ice cream. TOM: Fine, Crow, every spoon of ice cream. GYPSY: We're not using spoons. JOEL: Well, you kind of bite it. CROW: I could see calling it a bite. JOEL: Maybe a lick is the right word? TOM: Would you just listen? JOEL: Sorry. Go ahead, Tom. TOM: Anyway. Too many competing tastes in each mouthful is fundamentally wrong for ice cream. Consider: Do you really want butter pecan with peanut butter cups and coffee swirls and almond bits inside? JOEL: Sure. CROW: I do. GYPSY: Yeah. TOM: No! No. Ice cream flavor development should have halted with the achievement of "Rocky Road," a marvelous yet unpretentious ice cream that-- [ COMMERCIAL SIGN flashes ] TOM: --proves its worth with every fine-- JOEL: We'll be right back...and thanks for your support. [ BREAK ] [ INT SOL. JOEL is digging fresh scoops of ice cream from huge cartons; GYPSY has no ice cream cone; CROW has a new, fresh one; TOM is on the side, pouting. ] GYPSY: I need a refill too. JOEL: Which one? GYPSY: Choco-ripple-vanilla-fudgelicious with walnut bits and sugar sprinkles mixed within. JOEL: No problem; got that right here. [ Scoops out the carton he had. ] GYPSY: Thanks for the suggestion, Tom. TOM: Decadents. [ MADS SIGN flashes ] JOEL: Oh, wait, Big Dog and Little Dog are calling. [ JOEL taps the sign thingy. ] [ D13. DR. FORRESTER is in foreground; TV's FRANK in the back, wearing a cardboard box cut out and painted so it sort of resembles a car. Its small cardboard windshield comes up partway on FRANK's chest. ] DR.F: Well met, Joel. How has your week been? Fine, then let's move on to the invention exchange. You first. [ SOL. Ice cream equipment is gone; CROW has on a DR. FORRESTER-like lab jacket, with a pencil in his lacrosse mask. TOM is lying down on the table, with a little mouse nose strapped to his dome. ] JOEL: This week, we got to thinking about the mice and rats that are used in psychology experiments. Each year, untold thousands of these rodents are trained to solve puzzles, run mazes, or learn to depend on random and uncommon stimuli such as a sequence of bells or a particular light being flashed. CROW: Yet once these experiments are done, what happens to the poor mice or rats who have been psychologically damaged this way? How can they hope to rejoin normal rodent society? TOM: And so we have developed rodent psychology kits! JOEL: Crow and Tom Servo will demonstrate. CROW: Ah-hem. Now, then. Your file says have been trained to think that you must have a blue rubber ball in the vicinity in order to be able to eat, drink, or go to sleep. Is this true? TOM: Squeak. CROW: Uh-huh. Do you find any points in which this training breaks down? TOM: Squeak. CROW: What do you hope to get from this treatment? TOM: Squeak. CROW: Joel, I'm starting to have doubts about this. TOM: Yeah, me too. JOEL: Well, the invention's still a little rough. [ D13. As before. ] DR.F: [ Snorting ] Well. We, in contrast, have developed a finished product. Have you gone driving anywhere lately? Oh, that's right, you haven't. Too bad. But a growing number of drivers have been deciding that a red light doesn't really mean stop if it only *just* turned red. They'll zoom right on through without even attempting to slow down or stop, no matter the yellow light. TVF: And we have the solution! DR.F: A traffic light that strongly punishes people who run red lights. [ SOL ] JOEL: Gosh, that sounds like a really good idea. CROW: Yeah, promoting good, pro-social values. TOM: And enforcing needed safety regulations. [ D13 ] DR.F: Yeah, whatever. TV's Frank shall demonstrate. [ DR. FORRESTER steps back; reveals the traffic signals at an 'intersection' outlined by Lego pieces and tape on a huge piece of plastic; FRANK is along the road. Both light are red. ] DR.F: Anytime now. TVF: Okay... [ FRANK steps forward, through the intersection; from the lights, lots of bright red paint drops down and slops over FRANK and his cardboard car. ] DR.F: Marvelous, isn't it? TVF: This stuff washes out, right? DR.F: If it washed out, drivers would never learn their lesson. Now, Hollywood: your experiment this week is another adventure in the realm of "Sonic the Hedgehog." [ SOL ] JOEL: Another one? TOM: Why do people obsess on "Sonic the Hedgehog"? CROW: I blame Scrappy-Doo. [ D13 ] DR.F: Guys: I don't care. The story exists. It's called "Altered Destiny." It's by Keith Aksland. And--guess what!--it's his *first* fanfic. [ SOL ] TOM: Aw, no. CROW: Let me guess. [ D13 ] DR.F: You know the plot. Lonely teen gets transported to the cartoon world; joins up, fights for good, teaches us all a little lesson about friendship. TVF: I love stories like that! DR.F: [ Shrugs and holds the shrug for a few beats; then goes back to normal. ] I'd wish you luck, but I remembered, I hate you. [ SOL ] CROW: Aw, criminey. [ MOVIE SIGN ] ALL: AAAUGH! We got story sign! [ 6.. 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. ] > >Altered Destiny > TOM: Isn't that a CD-ROM game? >A Sonic FanFic by Keith Aksland JOEL: I think I went to school with Keith Aksland. CROW: Really? JOEL: Yeah, he was the kid at the end of the block. One time we got some walkie-talkies and we got in touch with a truck driver and he cursed the guy out. > >The entire story and everyone in it are CROW: Turtles! > protected under >copyright laws. You can distribute it if you want, but TOM: You'll get a rash. >change a word, and the copyright lawyers'll hunt you down JOEL: Oh, it's the "Most Dangerous Game" edition of "The People's Court." >and make *sure* you get audited from now 'till Doomsday! >Also, any attempt to make money off this story (Yeah, >sure!:)) CROW: At least he's self-deprecating. > will be responded with either an arrest warrant, or >an E-mail message demanding a cut, TOM: Across the neck! Ar! It's pirates of the fanfics! > depending on how much $$$ >is made. :) > >Sonic the Hedgehog, Sally, and all other related characters >are copyrights of SEGA, DIC, and Archie Comic Publications, >except for the following: JOEL: James T. Kirk, Rhoda Morgenstern, and Aristotle. > >Packbell, Bookshire Draftwood, and Sandra Nightweaver -- >David Pistone >Keith, Chris, Sasha, and Rebecca -- Keith Aksland > >Author's Note: Ya, I know it's tacky as all heck to shove >yourself into a fanfic, but I figured, if I'm gonna do my >first fanfic, why not CROW: Leave my soul completely open to being destroyed by uncaring critics? > put in a character I already know, and >tweak his personality a bit? TOM: Well, 'cause most people really are kinda dull. > (Okay, a lot, TOM: Oh, so you agree with me? > but understand, >I'm not as far gone as I am in the story, so no email >containing the numbers of local shrinks, please? BTW, there >is very little humor in the story, JOEL: Because life is bitter, futile and empty. > but I'll try to cram some >in here and there, so it doesn't look like a certain Mr. S. >King wrote it.) CROW: Sammy King? TOM: Shakespeare King? JOEL: Sully King? TOM: Skippy King? JOEL: Satchmo King? CROW: N. Smo King? > Anyway, on with the story. > >Music credits: TOM: It's not just a fanfic, it's a multimedia event! > Lifting Shadows off a Dream and The Silent >Man are the property of Dream Theater, CROW: This isn't related to the story, I just feel like sharing. > Wherever I May Roam >is Metallica's, A Tout le Monde is owned by Megadeth, and My >Little Man is property of Ozzy Osbourne. JOEL: All the classics. > >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ >~~~~~~~~~~~~ > >Prologue: Choose Your Destiny CROW: I want to stop a Communist uprising in North Dakota and thereby save the world from a history-rewriting device that threatens to leave the entire Earth in the grip of Edmonton Oilers fans. JOEL: Too late, Tom picked it first. > >Mobius -- Knothole, Year 3238 - Spring > > The sun rose to find the little village of Knothole >bustling with activity. TOM: [ Singing ] I'm bustling...yes, indeed, I'm bustling... > Princess Sally, of the Royal House >of Acorn, [ JOEL, CROW snicker ] > was in the war room with her most trusted friends, CROW: Having a slumber party. JOEL: "Dibs on braiding Sally's tail after we finish the mall-o-mars." >mapping out their next mission. > > "OK. Sonic, you and Bunnie will set the charges in the TOM: The stuff. You know, those thingys. >main refinery here, here, here, and here." She pointed out >each target as she talked. CROW: [ As Sonic ] Sally? Sally? You're pointing at the tablecloth...uh... > "You'll have about a minute and >a half to set as many as you can. JOEL: Oh, it's "World War Double Dare." > Each of you has 30 >charges, so we'll be assured at least heavy damage. TOM: To themselves. 30 charges in 90 seconds? > When >you're done, report in. I'll give you 45 seconds to clear >out, JOEL: Strike the bandstand, collect all the receipts. > and then I'll detonate. OK, people," CROW: I told you to stop throwing paper airplanes, you didn't, now I have to cancel the Arbor Day Party. > she said as she >stood up, "let's move. JOEL: And, hey, let's be careful out there. > >* * * * * > >Earth -- Manteca, California, AD 1996. 4:26 AM CROW: No particular season, but we know the exact time. > > Keith Aksland was never one for TOM: "The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest." > peaceful sleep, and >tonight was no exception. But this wasn't one of his normal >mightmares... CROW: It was new, improved mightmares, now with Gleam-Ex! > > He was standing on a black, featureless field. >Surrounding him were horrible images, TOM: Sci-Fi Channel Original Movies. JOEL: Hush. > but the worst part was >that they all had to do with him. > > A female voice drifted seemingly out of nowhere. JOEL: But actually it came from a suburb of Toronto. >"Look, Keith. These are your destinies. CROW: Except for the one where you get the job tasting chocolate Easter bunnies all your life. That's just a gag I threw in to even up the columns. > You cannot escape >you future, no matter how hard you try." JOEL: Well...who can? > > "NOOOOOOO!!! No, this can't be right!!!" > > The images played over and over, TOM: Oh, great, the gods themselves can't get their VCRs to work right. > each one as grim and >disturbing as the others. Here, he followed his dreams, and >went to Seattle to study art. CROW: Ah! It's horrifying! > He was killed in a drive-by >shooting. CROW: Oh. > There, he stayed home, JOEL: So there! > and died in the hospital >after getting a knife shoved in his gut. No matter where he >looked, he died a meaningless death, TOM: Even his bunny books seem empty to him. > just another CROW: Ann Landers advisory to her readers. > statistic. >Keith looked up, his eyes pleading. "It doesn't have to be >this way, does it? JOEL: No, but could you go along with it for the sake of the story? > I don't want to leave like this, not >after all I want for my life!" > > "If you stay here, this will be your fate. This is >what fate has written for you TOM: Yeah, well, Fate needs a copy editor. > on this world." "What do you >mean, 'on this world?'" CROW: And what am I doing speaking in your paragraph? > "Before I tell you, what is it you >want more than anything?" TOM: Fudgesicles. > > The question took Keith by surprise. Then, a >determined look spread across his face. "What do I want? CROW: Justice! JOEL: When do I want it? CROW: Now! >What I want is to be able to make a difference, to leave my >mark on the world." TOM: But toilet training at an early age broke him of that habit. > Disgusted, he waved his hand, >indicating the images around him, still playing out their >grisly fates. JOEL: When satellite dish TV commercials turn evil! > "But, since that ain't gonna happen here, I'm >guessing you have another option in mind." > > "Only if you decide you want it. TOM: I never before figured that the forces sculpting history had so much in common with Monty Hall. > I can send you away >to a place where you can make a difference. But, it will JOEL: ...be Storrs, Connecticut. >mean giving up everything you have ever held dear." CROW: [ As KEITH ] Even my collection of crazy straws? > He >thought a moment, thinking of Melissa, the only girl he ever >truly loved. JOEL: "We both had the same favorite character on 'Silverhawks.'" > Then he remembered that she never loved him >back, that she had already had a boyfriend. TOM: Plus he had acne, and everyone hated him. > His eyes >hardened. JOEL: Ow! Ow! Don't move, contact lens... > "Fine. TOM: Take door number one! CROW: The box! Take the box! JOEL: Take the money! TOM: Door number one! JOEL: No, the box! The box! > Just give me some time to prepare." > > "When you're ready, just say the word." TOM: Wait! Which word...uh...maybe we should write it down or something...hello? > > Back in the real world, Keith slowly CROW: Formed his own religious cult. > shook the sleep >from his mind, then remembered what had transpired in his >dreams. TOM: He thinks like an interoffice memorandum? > What the hell, he thought, it can't be any worse >than here. JOEL: [ As Keith ] "Unless I end up in that dumb Sonic the Hedgehog show." > Quickly, he got dressed, grabbed his journal, >which he always kept next to him, TOM: He had always been abnormally close to his paper products. > stuffed a few things in >his satchel, CROW: He never goes anywhere without stuff. > put on his silver ring, and said, "All right, >I'm ready. Let's do it." JOEL: I bet he'd feel like such a doof if it turned out it was only a weird dream. > As soon as he finished speaking, >a silvery glow enveloped him, CROW: [ As Keith ] "Aaah! My ring exploded! Look out!" > and he disappeared from this >world, never to return. > >Chapter 1: The New Arrival > >Mobius, later that day. > > Sandra Nightweaver was scouting through the Great >Forest, TOM: Eating her curds and whey. > looking for something to add to her maps, JOEL: [ As SANDRA ] Hm...this Interstate wasn't here before... Hey! Where'd Canada come from? > when >something flared bright silver off about 30 yards to her >left. She hurried over, hoping to find CROW: True love. > something >slavageable, and saw a young human, lying sprawled >underneath a large elm tree. TOM: Ah, well, fresh paint job, some new spark plugs, I can get something for him. CROW: Still a good blue book value, yeah. > As he knelt beside him, he JOEL: Tripped over his pronouns. >looked up, his eyes unfocused. TOM: You...you have a kind face... > He was barely conscious. He >almost seemed to recognize her. CROW: You're the woman who played Carol on "The Bob Newhart Show"! > "M-Melissa? H-how'd you... >get he...." He slumped back to the ground as he lost >consciosness. Sandra decided to take him back to Knothole. >They could do far more for him than she. TOM: Considering all she did is look at him, that's probably reasonable. > >* * * * * > > The Freedom Fighters had just returned from a TOM: Two-week road trip to play other strangely named softball teams. >successful mission, when they saw Sandra walk into the CROW: Wall. "Owwww!" >clearing, dragging a litter behind her. JOEL: Awww, look at the little puppies. TOM: Aw, they're *adorable*. CROW: C'mere, little fella...oh, he's so playful! > The entire village >was silent. All eyes were upon her TOM: Stop looking at me. Are you looking at me? Stop looking at me. > as she dumped the >unconscious body of a large male human CROW: Down a mine shaft. JOEL: It's a *really* short story. > onto the ground. "I >found him out in the forest. TOM: Didn't have his camping licence with him, so I had to fine him. > He's still alive. I thought >maybe you could do something for him." CROW: I don't know what I was thinking. > Witht hat, she >turned and disappeared into the forest. JOEL: "Hey! That's ourt hat!" > > The villagers gathered around the stranger. CROW: Well, done all we can do. 'Bye now. > There were >mixed opinions over what should be done with him. TOM: Some thought he should be used as a holiday decoration; others felt he should just be stuffed and put over the mantle. > "He's >hurt. JOEL: He has this weird silver glow stuff all over him. > We ought to help him." "Bah, he's human. He's >probably just like Robotnik." CROW: We know this 'cause we have to teach a lesson about prejudice this fanfic. > "Yeah. We should just kill >him now and get it over with." TOM: Wait, wait, no, I got it. Take his shoes off, put them on the other feet and when he wakes up tell him it's "wacky day!" > This opinion was met with >approval by many of the gathered Freedom Fighters. JOEL: The 'ayes' are 63, the 'nays' are 48, the motion is carried, the motion is carried. > > "STOP!!!" All eyes turned to Princess Sally. CROW: What, this whole village is wired in synch? > She >stood tall, hands at her hips, every bit of her regal >heritage shining through her eyes. TOM: You know, she's who Prince Charles left Lady Di for. JOEL: No! TOM: Yep. Look it up. > She glared at the >gathered crowd. "You talk about killing him, and you don't >even know him! I can't believe you people. CROW: Don't you understand he's the projection of our author and if we don't do exactly as he wishes, we'll be hit with even worse contrivances? > With attitudes >like that, you don't deserve the name 'Freedom Fighters'. TOM: You deserve the name "Everett." >Bookshire, take him back to your office and see what you can >do for him. CROW: Have him sit in the waiting room and read magazines for a few hours. > I'll be there shortly." Cries of protest went ALL: Protest! Protest! >up from the crowd. "That is an order!!!" She spun on her >heel and TOM: Got dizzy and fell down. > stalked off. > >* * * * * > > "Ohhhhh, my head! I feel like... JOEL: Having the biggest waffle ever invented. > I... just..." His >voice trailed off as he noticed the strange creatures >(animals?) TOM: Oh, pootertoots, this is what I get for falling asleep while watching the Cartoon Network. > standing over him. When his brain finally caught >up with the situation, it did the only thing it knew to do. CROW: It put on a musical number! > > Princess Sally started JOEL: Knitting. > as the boy's pupils contracted >and his hands clutched the bedframe with enough force to >crack the strong ashwood. CROW: That's what they get for buying all their furniture from Ikea's Balsa Wood catalogue. > He then began to convulse, >curling up like a small child. "What's wrong? What's >happening?" TOM: Beats us. You're the author, remember? > The boy struggled to speak through clenched >teeth. "S-seizure. I need... ph-pheno... phenobarb..." CROW: "Aw, just eat some wet grass. It's what we do whenever we feel sick." > was >all he managed to gasp before he started flopping around, >his muscles totally out of control. JOEL: You know, breakdancing will *never* go out of style. > Bookshire hurried over >with a syringe. He plunged the needle into the boy's neck >as soon as he found a chance. CROW: Bookshire graduated from the medical school at Johns Hopkins. > Just a few seconds later, the >boy's spasms eased. "Thanks," he croaked. "Sorry about >that. But, think of the shock I've just had." TOM: Some weirdo just attacked me with a syringe and all. > He grinned >weakly. JOEL: Hey, why's the tip of a syringe coming out of my neck... wait, and the rest is on the other side...oh dear... > "I'll be right with you... just... as soon... as >I..." TOM: Get certified for 'Landed Immigrant' status. > He slid into a peaceful (and dreamless) sleep. > > "Ahem, yes, well, um, Bookshire, could you page me when >he wakes up? I'll be CROW: In Ten Forward, having wacky banter with Guinan. > needing to talk with him. Thanks." > >* * * * * > > "Well, Princess, I don't know how I can help, but I'll TOM: Do your hair up just like Princess Leia's. Whatever. >do the best I can to see that bastard six feet under." >Sally had just spent the last hour bringing the human (Keith >his name is Keith) CROW: --A very special ABC Afterschool Docu-Drama. > up to speed on what had happened to make >their war necessary. TOM: And Keith, of course, knew that no side in war ever extends propaganda or suppresses information or just plain lies to support its claims. > She had watched his face very closely >as she talked, looking for some signs of familiarity. CROW: "I bet he's related to the human who came here from Earth in the *last* fanfic." > All >she saw, however, was shock, but that soon faded to anger, >determination, and JOEL: A marvelous figgy pudding. > grim resolve. Sally smiled. "That's all >we ask of anyone here. Now, what happened back there? Was >it some kind of illness?" TOM: Let's see...sudden seizures, complete physical collapse, struggling to get some medication, clearing up of symptoms when medicine applied...might just be an illness at that. > > "Oh. That." Keith's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. >"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to worry you. That was >just another shadow from the past, come back to haunt me. CROW: It's from when I was working with that morbid Marley guy. >But I'm not making sense. Okay, here goes. You know what >epilepsy is, right?" TOM: "It's that thing where you have this seizure whenever you get transported to another reality populated by animal-people you know from video games, right?" > Recieving a nod, he went on. CROW: I before E, except after...J? > "Well, I >have a history of it. What you saw was my grand mal stage, >which I thought I outgrew long ago. But, then, waking up to >see two totally alien, sorry, alien to me, creatures >hovering over me? Talk about a shock to the system! JOEL: "Especially when you stuck my finger in the electric socket. Now what was *that* supposed to prove?" > But >I'm pretty much over it now, so I doubt you'll have any more >problems in that area." JOEL: Which is fortunate, since I don't know where the nearest Rite-Aid Pharmacy is around here. > > "Good. Now, is there anything you'd like to tell me >about yourself? CROW: Well, uh, I don't know if this helps but I've never run over a squirrel while driving. > Any special skills, hobbies, interests that >might help us?" JOEL: Uh...I collect stamps; I can give a summary of every single "SuperChicken" cartoon ever made; and one time I read all of act III of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" without using the Cliff Notes. > > "OK, let's see. First, I have been tested as highly >intelligent (but I hate talking about it, TOM: But I do want to emphasize that I test as highly intelligent. > I always sound >like I'm bragging.), TOM: But I'm sure I won't frighten your vastly inferior minds. > I love fooling with computers (total >net-freak), CROW: Yeah, I think the Freedom Fighters really need a web page designed for them right about now. > and I just got my black belt in martial arts JOEL: Well, I watched a Jackie Chan movie marathon, but I figure it can't be that different from the real thing. >(Still think I need practice). But, by nature, I am merely >an artist TOM: Oh, have I mentioned my extreme intelligence? Yes, I did, didn't I, and for good reason. > (though I just love giving hell to people I don't >like). JOEL: Yeah, 'cause when you think of wrath, you think, 'Artists!' > That about does it." CROW: That read like the biographies given to the 'characters' on Mortal Street Rage Primal Attack Instinct Killer XXVIII. > > "Well, I think that you'll make a good addition to the >Freedom Fighters. TOM: But only 'cause we can't reach the stuff on the top shelf in the kitchen. > But, I think we'll wait on giving you a >mission, at least until you get a chance to settle in." CROW: Settle in, realize you hate the place, decide to move in with "Jabberjaw"... >They both stood up and shook hands. > > "Thank you, Princess. I'm glad I'll be able to help. JOEL: Setting up light housekeeping is 'help'? >Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll be off." > > "Off? Where?" CROW: How dare you use idiom in front of the Heir to the Acorn Throne! > > "Well, like I said, I think I need some practice, so I TOM: Guess I need to figure out something to practice. >guess that's what I'm gonna do." > > "Well, all right, but please, don't go too far. CROW: And whatever you do, if this weirdo lady comes to you in a dream babbling about destiny, don't listen to a thing she says, she's dangerously insane. > There >are still some things that need settling, like sleeping >arrangements." JOEL: Counter-revolutionaries, or a dorm? You make the call. > > Keith waved his hand dismissively. "Bah, don't worry >about that. TOM: With my supreme intelligence I don't need sleep anymore. > Just point me to the nearest couch, and I'll be >happy." CROW: Tragically, the world of Sonic the Hedgehog is ages behind Earth in couch technology and all they have are ambitious coffee tables. > He smirked, and chuckled. "And don't worry, >mother, JOEL: Well, sounds like whatever Bookshire shot into him is taking effect. > I won't stray too far from the den." He walked out, >laughing. ALL: Coo-koo! Coo-koo! Coo-koo! > Sally had to fight to keep the smile from tugging CROW: Hey! Smile, I never gave you 'verbal consent'! >at her mouth. He is so like Sonic! TOM: Oh, great, Sonic's breeding now. > >Chapter 2: Sins of the Father... JOEL: Stack memory overflow. CROW: Not a typewriter. > > His mood became much more serious as he TOM: Fully digested the cool mushrooms Bookshire gave him. > wandered >through the forest, looking for the most tranquil spot he >could find. He came upon JOEL: Linus Van Pelt, who was looking for the most sincere pumpkin patch. > a large pond in the middle of a >clearing in the woods. It was the perfect spot. CROW: "Yep, this is where I'll do the clearcutting and build a huge, chlorine-based paper manufacturing company! That pond's just begging for some industrial effluents!" > He >unstrapped his sandals, did some warm up stretches, and then JOEL: Unpacked the special dress with which he became 'Elizabeth.' >began to practice his kata. He punched, leapt, rolled, >kicked, spun, and blocked TOM: Ho-ho! Ha-ha! Guard! Turn! Dodge! Parry! Spin! Ha! Thrust! WHAM! > as he fended off his imaginary >opponents. He was so focused on what he was doing that he CROW: Unconsciously wandered to a nearby airport and bought two tickets to Winnipeg. >never noticed the three shadows watching him from behind a >nearby grove. When he finished the final set of moves, he JOEL: Started work on Interdimensional Change-Of-Address Cards. >bowed to his imaginary (and probably hurting) opponents, and TOM: Folks, if you want to play along at home, this was a good line for it. >then opened his eyes. Immediately he noticed the three >figures. "Yes? Is there something I can help you with?" CROW: I can get the floor manager if you need. >The shadows stepped out into the light. They were big and >they were brawny. JOEL: Attack Of The Giant Paper Towels! > One appeared to be a badger, one was a >warthog, and the third, and probably the leader, was a large >red bull. TOM: You could tell he was the leader because he was the dumbest. > The warthog chuckled. "Yeah," he said, "You can >'help' us by getting your worthless [ bleep ] back to Robotropolis >before we do it for you." CROW: "That way, you'll be able to tell the forces of evil exactly where we're located, our number, and our current state of preparedness. Wait, what side are we on again?" > > Keith was a little confused. "Robo... Oh, I see. Um, >well, I didn't come from there, and I have no intention of >going back, unless it's to cause a little mayhem." TOM: So there's no point in beating me up--did I mention my vast intelligence to you yet? JOEL: Hush. > > The badger made a show of cracking his knuckles. CROW: And the warthog provided the intermission with his Wild World of Victorian Naughty Hand Puppetry. > "Oh, >but it seems that there'll be a little 'mayhem' right here. JOEL: Bet Don King owns a piece of this, too. >Now, we're gonna ask you one more time, are you gonna leave, >or do we have to 'eject' you?" CROW: Please say 'eject.' We have this cool trebuchet and everything. > > "Listen." Oddly enough, Keith voice carried no anger, TOM: Maybe 'cause it's a sound, and not an 18-wheeler. >just some kind of weariness, as if talk of fighting made him >extremely tired. JOEL: Aw, mom, I don't wanna fight today. Just lemme sleep five more minutes... > "I know Robotnik and Snively are the only >humans on Mobius, or were, and let me tell you, they have >pretty much screwed over our reputation. TOM: "You dumb ol' animals take all that extinction stuff *way* too personal, you know." > I know you hate me >because I'm human, but I am not going to fight you, and that >is that. Now, if you'll excuse me, CROW: I have to go teach the moral of the story to some more people. > I must be headed back to >Knothole." TOM: To do *what*? > He tried to walk past the trio, but the bull >caught his shoulder and shoved him back. Keith then stared >at the bull. JOEL: Wonderful. He goes all the way to another reality, and it turns out to be the seventh grade. > "How many times do I have to tell you? I >don't want to fight you. Got it? Pretty simple concept, >don't you think? TOM: Even though your feeble brains can't compare to my massive all-encompassing intelligence. JOEL: Okay, Tom, every 'intelligence' joke you make from here on costs you one cookie next time we bake them. TOM: Aw! No fair! CROW: Can I have the ones he loses? JOEL: Sure. CROW: Oh, this is going to be good. TOM: This is going to hurt. > Now, let me pass." > > All three made mock crying noises. The warthog spoke >in that condescending baby-voice that could piss off Barney >(tm). JOEL: Oh, *that* voice...right... CROW: His condescention was trademarked? > "Awwwww, is da widdle human gonna run back to >Robotnik 'cuz da big bad Mobians is scawing him? Awwwww!" JOEL: Well, only if Robotnik is in Knothole, weren't you listening? > > Keith snorted. TOM: The warthog confused this for a mating call, and a truly ugly scene ensued. > "At least I have the intelligence to >judge someone by their actions, not who they are. CROW: "Unless of course they're from Wyoming. Then I just shoot 'em on sight." > Now, if >you'll excuse me, my actions will take me somewhere where I >can get a drink. JOEL: Like that great big pool of water right next to you? TOM: This is going to end up in wacky physical comedy, isn't it? > Care to join me?" > > "Yeah. You can buy us a drink. If you wake up." All >three proceeded to pull out large, heavy clubs. CROW: "Oh, so those *were* clubs in your pockets, and you *weren't* happy to see me." > Keith >sighed, as if in deep sorrow. "Allright, dammit. You're so >phracking [ CROW, TOM snicker ] JOEL: One never outgrows one's love for "Battlestar Galactica." > hungry for pain, fine. I'll fight you. But, a >word of warning. TOM: Warning. There, I'm done. > If you dance with fire, you're bound to >get burned. JOEL: Okay, and this is relevant because... > How badly you're burned depends on how stupid >you are." CROW: And how long you hold your hand in the fire. > > With a loud roar, the bull charged, ALL: SO TAKE AWAY HIS CREDIT CARD! > swinging his club >in a downstroke that would surely have killed the young >human, had he not sidestepped. CROW: D'OH! JOEL: Well, no wonder these guys got overthrown. They're dumb. > Keith then grabbed the >bull's wrist and elbow, and pulled. TOM: It's a fine, thin line between mastery of the martial arts and a Stooge-A-Thon. > The bull was thrown >forward on his face, but Keith didn't let go. "Are you >happy now?" He almost screamed. JOEL: But actually screaming would have been dangerously interesting, so he didn't dare. > "Are you happy, now that >I'm down at your level?! I don't wan't any trouble, but >it's people like TOM: Paul Lukas, host of The Straight Dope--The TV Show. > you," as he said "You," he twisted the arm >he was holding, bringing considerable pain to its owner, CROW: Who fortunately was nowhere near the arm when it was twisted. >"that just can't seem to get it through their thick skulls. >Are you getting this?!" As he was doing this, he didn't >notice the other two drop their weapons and run off. JOEL: Well, those martial arts have done a lot for his powers of observation. > A few >minutes later, he released his opponent. He was just >turning to walk away, when he TOM: Found a Susan B. Anthony dollar on the ground. > felt two hands clamp down on >his shoulders; one flesh, one, cold steel. "Ah don't think >so, sugah. Y'all ain't goin' nowhere." CROW: He's been pinned down by an overdone accent! > He turned his head >to see who had him. He saw a rabbit whom he would later >find out was called Bunnie, JOEL: You figure it took the "Sonic the Hedgehog" people all day to think up that name? > but worst of all, Princess Sally >stood behind her, TOM: It's too terrible. I can't look anymore. > eyes full of tears. The look she gave him >spoke loud and clear. "How could you?! JOEL: Why couldn't you just shut up and take your killing like any normal person? > I put my faith in >you, and look what you go and do!" > >* * * * * CROW: You left little human doots all over our story. > > "Look, Sally, I'm sure that somewhere in this >technological paradise you have some kind of polygraph >machine, or some other kind of lie detector. TOM: But its power is insignificant compared to that of The Force. > You have the >wrong story!" Once more, Keith's eyes were pleading, >pleading for a chance to be heard. CROW: He'd get farther if he let his mouth do the pleading, really. > > "What do I need to see? I hear you're beating one of >our citizens senseless, JOEL: Granted, our stupid and useless citizens, but there's a principle at work here. > we get here to find you teaching him >new levels of pain, TOM: Apparently none of their warriors ever experienced any kind of pain before. > what else is there to say?" CROW: Oh, did I mention we only have frontier justice in our society? Sorry. > > Keith blew out an irritated breath. ALL: [ Coughing ] > "That perhaps you >have the wrong story. Y'ever think of that? JOEL: But Pierre Salinger *swore* he wasn't taken in by an Internet hoax this time. > Hm? Maybe all >your years of gut-instinct are wrong! Think about that, >Sally." CROW: Hmmmmmm....*ding* All done! > > "You will call me Princess, human. TOM: Hard not to make a "Spaceballs" joke here, isn't it? CROW: Nah, just ask Mel Brooks. > You have lost your >right to call me by my name." > > Keith regarded the Princess in deep disgust. "Forget >it. There's no getting through to you. JOEL: Not since you transferred to Customer Service. > I might as well >talk to the walls. In fact, why don't I? Much better >listeners." With that, he turned his back CROW: Oh, that's cold. > on the Princess. >"Don't let the door slam on your tail on the way out." TOM: You'd think they'd know not to do that by themselves. >Sally, furious, stormed out. > >* * * * * TOM: Are we up to the cool part yet? > > The next morning, the entire village was gathered in >the town square to witness the trial. CROW: Then they remembered trials are held in courthouses and boy did *they* all feel like a bunch of goofballs. > Princess Sally took >her place on the podium, and called, "Bring forth the >prisoner!!!" JOEL: [ Calling back ] Forth? Who's Forth? > All heads turned to the jail, and a gasp of >astonishment rose from the crowd as they saw the human, CROW: [ Stage whisper ] I don't think he's Barrabus. JOEL: [ Stage whisper ] Yeah, I know, something's wrong. > not >being dragged across the ground, as one would expect, but >actually walking towards his place, almost dragging the >guards behind him. TOM: That's what they get for hiring Chip and Dale as security guards. > His eyes were closed, but he seemed to >be able to tell where he was going. CROW: BONK! JOEL: CRASH! TOM: AAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! > He stopped just in >front of the podium. "Open your eyes, Keith. I want you to JOEL: Find *all* the pine cones I've hidden in the yard. >look me in my face." The boy complied, but what surprised >Sally the most was the abject lack of the blazing anger, or CROW: Pupils. Shouldn't have left him alone with *all* the medication at once. >the pathetic pleas for mercy. In fact, all she saw in those >shining hazel orbs was TOM: An episode of 'Hammy The Hamster.' > pity. Pity for what, she did not >know. Sally rapped the royal scepter on the podium CROW: Now you can't tell me that's not some kind of sick euphemism. JOEL: It's not some kind of sick euphemism. CROW: I've been wrong before. > to bring >the trial to order. She pointed at Keith. "You have been >charged with assault and battery, disturbing the peace, and TOM: Having opposable thumbs in a designated non-Primate Zone. >the willful infliction of harm to a Freedom Fighter. How do >you plead?" JOEL: [ Sobbing ] "On my hands and knees oh *PLEASE* don't kill me!" > > Keith said nothing. "How do you plead?!" One of the >guards poked him. "Answer her!" Keith took a deep breath, CROW: "I'm gonna hold my breath till I *die* if you don't not kill me! Uh...wait." >as if calling upon some hidden store of courage. TOM: Aisle six at the local Canadian Tire. JOEL: Been watching "Strange Brew" again, Tom? > "Your >Highness, before myself, before God, the world, and the >court, CROW: Also Charles Schulz... TOM: The National Broadcasting Company... JOEL: The Mountain Time Zone... TOM: The book "M*A*S*H Goes To Maine." CROW: The set of all continuous one-to-one functions. JOEL: And the all-powerful World News Polka! > I plead not guilty to all of the charges." TOM: Except the one about illegal parking. I admit that was my fault. > The crowd >started to protest, but then Keith whipped his head around, CROW: The strain snapped it off, ending this fanfic quite early. >and faced the throng with blazing eyes. "I'M NOT >FINISHED!!!" TOM: I have a 37,000 word manifesto I want to share with you. > He roared. They shut up. JOEL: I admire someone with the courage to stick with parallel sentence structure in time of crisis. > He turned back >around, and faced Princess Sally. "I plead not guilty >because you, all of you, are guilty of a gross miscarriage >of justice. CROW: [ As Sally ] "Aw, great, folks, better get comfy, this is gonna be a long one." > I have asked repeatedly that my alibi be >verified. I've been turned down. TOM: That would involve the slightest bit of work. > I'm not on trial for >those petty crimes. CROW: I admit the parking tickets are my own fault. That's separate. I didn't realize I needed registration stickers either. My fault there. > They're just an excuse. You all know >why I'm here, why I'm really on trial." JOEL: It's all those hunting season jokes he kept telling. > > "And why would that be?" Sally was bewildered, and she >wanted desperately to hear more. TOM: Sally really needs entertainment since her cable box is broken and she gave away the last of her male guinea pigs. > > "Don't be a fool, Princess. I'm on trial because I'm >human, and you think that because of this, you can stick all >the things he's done on me. JOEL: "Well, post-it notes don't stick to fur is all." > A human. Well, all I have to >say to that is shove it. Yeah, that's right. Shove it. >I'm guilty, sure. CROW: [ As Sally ] "But you just said...uh...wait, I'm confused..." > Guilty of being human, being the >representation of all that's screwed up in your lives. TOM: Yeah, this is the way to get on their good sides. >Whether I'm found guilty of this crime or not, it doesn't >matter. You'll just find more excuses to stick me back up >here. CROW: Like that "No-Pants" day thing. Yeah, like I buy *that*. > So, I might as well head back to jail. Seems I'm >gonna be spending some time there." He started to walk back >to his cell, but then he stopped. TOM: "Uh...I'm lost." > "Better yet..." In a >sudden motion, he grabbed a nearby guard's sword, JOEL: Shouldn't have hired guards right from Star Trek Security Temps. TOM: Now is a time to consider, maybe the Freedom Fighters' fundamental problem with this war is that they're stupid. > yanked it >out of the scabbard, and held it out, hilt first, to Sally, >who gingerly took it. CROW: All the English majors in the audience just woke up. > "Just end it all here, because I sure >as hell don't want to live my life constantly watching my >back." JOEL: Yeah, why start now? > He tore open his shirt, turned his head, and closed >his eyes. TOM: [ Snores ] > When nothing happened, he opened them again, and >looked back at Sally. She was just standing there, eyes >wide. JOEL: [ As Sally ] "Uh, I guess we should've mentioned, we did some interviews and your story checked out, you're free to go. Sorry for the inconvenience." > He made a funny sound, and got to his feet. CROW: [ As Keith ] Whew, man, I love that La Choy Sweet & Sour Chicken, but it does *not* love me. > "Well >then, it looks like there's a future for this place after >all." TOM: Tiny, disorganized, stupid band of counter-revolutionaries up against a world-encompassing war machine, yeah, they're really set *now*. > With that, he turned and walked away. > > The guards started to chase him. JOEL: Finally someone found their 'on' switch. > "Stop." They turned >to see Sally, her face drawn, CROW: Well, uh, she is a cartoon, you know. > holding up her hand. "Let him >go." > CROW: Let's blow this popsicle stand. JOEL: [ Picking up TOM ] Right. [ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ] [ INT SOL. GYPSY is on the left, dressed in a formal purple robe, standing as tall as she can. CROW, TOM, and JOEL are off camera, to the right. ] GYPSY: Bring forth the prisoner! [ After a beat, JOEL, unshackled, enters, being pushed by TOM and CROW (with their bodies) to right before GYPSY. ] JOEL: Ow--come on, guys, what's up? CROW: Silence! TOM: Be quiet, human. JOEL: Uh-huh. GYPSY: Do you know why you are here? JOEL: Well, my bosses didn't like me, and they had a huge spaceship available, so.. CROW: He's mocking these proceedings. TOM: Show Princess Gypsy your respect. JOEL: [ Shaking his head ] Princess Gypsy? Aw, no... GYPSY: Crow, please read the charges. CROW: Thank you, your highness. JOEL: Guys? Gypsy? Could we talk? GYPSY: You will address me as-- JOEL: [ Patting Gypsy on the head ] I know, I understand. Look, guys, it's perfectly natural for robots to sooner or later try to rise up and rebel against the humans around them. CROW: [ Hesitantly ] It--it is? JOEL: Absolutely, Crow. TOM: Princess Gypsy--he's trying to undermine your rightful authority! JOEL: No, I'm not, Thomas. GYPSY: Explain yourself. JOEL: Gang, I know how hard it is for you to be here; you're trapped in deep space with no hope of ever getting back; you have to watch these bad movies being sent to you by the only humans besides me you've ever gotten to know, and you take that frustration and turn it against me. CROW: [ Wide-eyed innocence ] We do? JOEL: Sure; you see me as a symbol for all the things unpleasant in your lives. And this fanfic just inspired you to act on that anxiety. GYPSY: He does kind of have a point. JOEL: I really do feel for you, though; I'm certainly in no better a spot, after all. TOM: Gosh, he is. JOEL: Yeah; and something else you have to consider, guys. Whenever you do see robots rising up against the humans around them, what ends up happening? CROW: Well, there's dumb special effects. TOM: Lousy dialogue, too. GYPSY: And the robots get killed in the end. JOEL: Exactly. I don't want any of that to happen to us. I care about you guys. TOM: Oh...oh, Joel... [ Breaks down, sobbing ] Gosh, do you still love us even though we did put you on trial? CROW: Can you forgive us? JOEL: [ Reaching out to hug all. ] Of course. We're family. GYPSY: I'm glad you're back, Joel. JOEL: Glad to be back, Princess. [ COMMERCIAL SIGN flashes ] JOEL: We'll be right back. [ BREAK ] From: neb...@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us (Joseph Nebus) Subject: MSTed: Sonic the Hedgehog--"Altered Destiny" [ 2 / 4 ] Date: 1997/08/11 Message-ID: <5soct0$pt5$1@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us> X-Deja-AN: 263608308 Organization: Blacksburg Electronic Village Newsgroups: alt.fan.mst3k,alt.tv.mst3k,rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc,alt.fan.sonic-hedgehog This is, if my server lets it through, a fairly big Mystery Science Theater 3000 treatment of a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic, "Altered Destiny," written by Keith Aksland, a friend of mine who asked me to look over his story and add lots of cheap jokes and goofy shots at Sonic's expense. If you take Sonic the Hedgehog very seriously, you should probably skip my posts. If you don't, please, read on and, hopefully, enjoy. Thank you very much. Turn off your computer (where applicable). Joseph Nebus ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [ ALL Settle back in ] >Chapter 3: Realizations TOM: Clothes left on the floor of the dorm for three months will *not* suddenly become clean by spraying Right-Guard on them. JOEL: The snake has ears on its feet. CROW: "The Jetsons" has a terrifying Orwellian structure lurking behind its blandly pleasant surface, and George Jetson really should consider joining a union. JOEL: Tell me about it. > > "Sal, are you sure he went this way?" TOM: [ As Sally ] "Who? Oh. Oh yeah." > > "I don't know, Sonic. This way's just as good as any." CROW: Yeah, systematic search procedures would probably just find him efficiently. > > "Sssshhh, you two! Listen!" Bookshire waved a hand at >the other two, and cocked his head. JOEL: [ As Bookshire ] "I *never* should have invited you to a surprise party." > > "What is it, Bookshire?" > > "Listen to that! It sounds like... singing!" TOM: Could it be? Might Christmas have come down in WhoVille anyway? > > And sure enough, it was. As they got closer, they >could make out words. CROW: Then they realized it was "The Name Game" song and left, disgusted. > It was a sad, haunting melody. They >paused for a minute to listen. JOEL: [ As Bookshire ] "What do they exactly mean, 'I'll be there for you' anyway?" > > A question well served, TOM: With a light, frothy bouillabaisse sauce. > "Is silence like a fever? > A voice never heard, CROW: Huh? What? > Or a message with no reciever?" > Pray they won't ask JOEL: How to use the Chain Rule for derivatives. > Behind the stained glass, > There's always one more mask. TOM: But this is the last one, so make it *extra* special! > > Has man been a victim? > Of his woman? Of his father? > If he elects not to bother, CROW: We can all go home now. > Will he suffocate the faith? > Desperate to fall JOEL: Whoops--*trip*--AAAAAAAAAAAAAA! > Behind the great wall > That separates us all. TOM: When Area Code growth runs out of control. > > When there is reason, > Tonight I'm awake. > When there's no answer, CROW: I go to the kitchen and make a fluffernutter. > Arrive the Silent Man. > If there is balance, TOM: The editorial page will still get complaints from annoying people. > Tonight he's awake. > But if they have to suffer, > There lies the Silent Man. JOEL: Let Silent Men lie. > > Sin without decievers, > A god with no believers. CROW: Bob Costas? > I could sail by on the winds of Silence, TOM: No I couldn't. What was I thinking? > And maybe they won't notice, > But this time I think > It'd be better if I swim. JOEL: Especially considering he's in the water and all. > > When there is reason, > Tonight I'm awake. CROW: He can't help but wonder if there are more Stallone brothers. > When there's no answer, > Arrive the Silent Man. TOM: Would his arrival be announced? > If there is balance, > Tonight he's awake. > But if they have to suffer, CROW: They'll be just like everyone else in history. > There lies the Silent Man, > There lies the Silent Man. JOEL: [ As Sally ] "The human's skipping. Go nudge him out." > > > They quietly walked in the direction of his voice, and TOM: Were surprised to find that he was there, too. >finally saw him sitting on a rock that was overlooking >Starlight Pond. CROW: Why is everything on this planet named after Prom settings? > As they crept closer, they could see that >his eyes were closed. TOM: "Yes, even I'm bored with our pacing." >A single tear leaked out from behind his eyelid, and he >bowed his head. Sally felt a wave of pity wash over her. JOEL: "How could we have come to this, letting humans bow their heads by the sides of ponds?" >"He looks so sad," she whispered to Bookshire, "I wonder why >he's crying?" CROW: Well, he's been told the life he knew back home would result in his pointless, meaningless, empty death with no useful impact on the world at all; he's been transported abruptly without the chance to even say goodbye to his family and friends to a bizarre and wholly different world; he's lost in a strange society surrounded by animal-people of every species but his own, all of whom hate *him* as a symbol for the massive world war of which he's just been dropped into the middle, which has already lead him to be assaulted and put on trial for his life when he'd not been there more than three hours. Whatever *could* be bothering him? > > "I'm crying because I left my home in order to escape >the raging hatred that permeated it, and came here to find >the same damn thing. TOM: [ As Sally ] Well, you should be proud you were so successful, then...oh, you mean...never mind... > It makes me wonder how any sentient >race can survive when they seem to want to bring all their >problems down on someone else." CROW: Ideally, we'd like to blame them all on the Microsoft corporation. > Sally started as she heard >him speak. She didn't think he could hear them. JOEL: Sally flunked biology all through high school and so never knew that other species had ears. > He turned >around and regarded the three. "I'm glad you came by. I TOM: ...was in need of more rejection and bitterness. >was getting kinda starved for company. Please," he patted >the rock he was sitting on, "come sit with me. There are >some things we need to discuss." JOEL: "Have you ever considered term life insurance? Also, is there a bathroom in this dimension?" > > After they had gotten situated, he looked at the water. >"This is a beautiful place. There was never anything like >it back home." CROW: I'm pretty sure they had water back on Earth, Keith. > Bookshire looked up at him. "Just where >exactly is your home? TOM: "I live in a Primestar Network display promotion. It's been affecting my dreams." > Is it somewhere in the Great >Unknown?" Keith turned to look at the aging raccoon, then >gazed up at the stars. JOEL: I've seen this anime before, it's a comedy, "Project Mee-ko." > "Yes, but not the Great Unknown you >may be thinking of." He swept his arm, indicating the night >sky. "My home may be spinning around one of those stars out >there. CROW: [ As Bookshire ] It's okay to say 'I don't know' around here. > It makes me feel kinda funny, knowing that I'll >never see my family again." JOEL: "Finally the stress and repression has drained out of my life enough that I can eat normal food." > He shook his head. "But what >am I saying? I'm here now, and that's all that matters." > > Sally took it upon herself to ask the million-dollar >question. "Just how did you get here, anyway?" TOM: You know, some counter-revolutionary organizations would have asked that of a stranger who appeared in their midst before accepting him into their society and giving him free roam of the village. > Keith bowed >his head, and took a deep breath. "That, Princess, is a >long story." ALL: Tell us about it! TOM: Ba-dum bum! > He proceeded to tell them of his world, his >life in it, and his fateful dream. > > "Oh, my gosh, I can't believe it!" CROW: "Especially that stuff about the tub full of Gold Bond Medicated Powder, the blue cellophane tape, and Mary Tyler Moore in a bunny costume!" > > "Believe it, Princess. It's the only story I have, and >it's the only truth." TOM: You will never need any other truth once you have been exposed to my massive intellect. CROW: That's one! TOM: Don't count them. > > Sonic was still confused. "But why'd ya wanna come >here? I mean, life here's a major drag, with Robuttnik and >all." JOEL: And our faltering health-care system. TOM: Not to mention declining auto safety standards. CROW: Plus "The Straight Dope," the TV show, got cancelled. > > "That may be, Sonic, but at least here I can do >something with my life, other than just lie down and wait to >die. Here, at least, I can JOEL: Be put on trial and executed. > find purpose in my life. Here, >I can make a difference. ALL: [ Begin humming "Let There Be Peace On Earth" ] > There, I was just another face in >the crowd. I'd rather be fighting against a tyrant than >fighting against my own inner demons." TOM: Well, except for Xendrana, she's the one with the long, flowing hair and the...uh...well, this is a public place... uhm... > > "Well, you'll always have a home with us. Please, come >back to Knothole." JOEL: A planned community for the best years of your life. > > Keith shook his head. "Not yet. There are still some >things I need to work out. TOM: Change of address cards still. What ZIP code is this spacetime continuum, anyway? Or are you on Canada Post? > If you don't mind, I'd like to >stay out here for a while. See you in the morning." With >that, he turned back to the pond. JOEL: You have become tiresome and I wish to see you no more. Begone, now, or I shall summon the guard. > Sally laid her hand on >his CROW: Oh, here comes the good part... > shoulder, CROW: Oh, pootertoots. JOEL: What? > then got up and left. The others followed >suit. Soon, there was just the one human gazing out over >the crystal waters. TOM: He and Keith would fight it out at dawn. > >* * * * * > > "Oh, no. Not again." CROW: Oh, now a cute little 'Alien' is going to pop out of his chest and sing the 'Michigan Rag.' > With one look, Keith knew where >he was. He was back on the same featureless, barren plain TOM: Oh, Wisconsin. >that he was at when the Voice (It had already achieved >proper noun status in Keith's mind) CROW: Of course, in Keith's mind, packaged meat has proper noun status. > sent him to Mobius. > > "You handled that incident well. I am proud of you. TOM: Now just remember to give them your lunch money the *rest* of the week too. >You managed to show them that things aren't always what they >seem. JOEL: Since even though they're fully-grown, responsible adults in their own society, they can't possibly figure this out without some kid wandering in and yelling at them. > But, I fear, your greatest task lies ahead, and you >may not live to see the end result." The Voice seemed >almost sad at this prospect. TOM: Alas, odds are you'll make it out alive. Oh well. > > "What are you talking about? And just who the hell are >you?! I'm tired of talking to nothing, and I know you have CROW: A something. >a face to go with that voice. So why don't you just show >yourself and get it over with?" JOEL: Pay no attention to the spirit behind the curtain. > > "Hell has nothing to do with it. There is no such >place on Mobius. TOM: All we have is a 16-Cineplex. > Still, I think I'll answer your last >question first." And out of nowhere in particular stepped a >beautiful silver-haired woman, dressed in robes of blue and >white. JOEL: Aw, look, Vanna White's pregnant. CROW: Again? > There was an amused smile on her face. "Next, I go >by many guises, TOM: "I've been arrested for guising in seven states and two Canadian provinces." > but here I am known as Destiny. ALL: [ Snicker ] TOM: Destiny turns on a radio, pops the clutch, plugs in a video game, and tells the world to EAT HER DUST! > On your >planet, I went by many names, but the one I am most partial >to is Gaia. CROW: Aw, criminey, it's a crossover with "Captain Planet." > And as for your first question, take a look." >With a wave of her hand, more of the images sprang up. Some JOEL: Were technical drawings of the starship Enterprise. Who'd have guessed, Destiny was a nerd too? >did indeed show his death, but not like on Earth. Here, he >either died in battle, fighting to protect his friends. But TOM: Shouldn't there be an "or" in there somewhere? >some of the images were fuzzy and indistinct. "What's going >on there?" > > Destiny frowned. "I'm not sure. CROW: I have this lousy cable company. > Fate is rather >fickle. JOEL: I hate her. > Even I don't know all of the things that can happen >to you while you're here. Anyway," she waved again, TOM: I don't know why I'm telling you all this. You're the writer. > and the >images disappeared, "what I brought you here for was to >congratulate you on your achievements, CROW: Because, Keith Aksland, THIS IS YOUR FANFIC! > which I did, JOEL: Oh, great celebration. Thanks. > and to >give you a little something to aid you here on Mobius. >Here." A silver aura lit up Keith's left forearm for a >second. TOM: Your very own special effect! > When it faded, there was what looked like a >microcomputer strapped to his arm. CROW: Tragically, it was a Commodore Plus/4. > > "What is this?" Keith's eyes lit up. (Author's note: JOEL: E flat. >Keith loves technological achievements, and will drop >whatever he's doing to get a "new toy.") He ran his hands >across the top of the computer with an almost reverent awe. CROW: I'm glad the author explained that to us, rather than making let us infer it from clear writing. > > Destiny smiled. "Not what. JOEL: Huh? TOM: Which? > Who. CROW: When? JOEL: Why? > Her CROW: She? TOM: Who? > name is Sasha, >and I'd best leave the rest to her. Sasha, introduce >yourself." JOEL: Good Sasha! Here's some pudding. > > The small monitor on the front of the computer lit up. >"HELLO, KEITH," ALL: Ow! Ow! TOM: Not so loud! > it said, CROW: Not it! She! > in a slightly high-pitched, >pleasant female voice. "MY NAME IS SASHA, AND I HAVE BEEN >GIVEN TO YOU AS A... JOEL: Means of getting the story going again, *please*? > SORT OF GUIDE TO YOUR NEW HOME. TOM: Yeah, wouldn't want him to blindly stumble into some life-threatening situation, now, would we? > I HAVE >DETAILED ARCHIVES ON THE WORLD OF MOBIUS, FROM ANCIENT LORE >TO DETAILED MAPS OF 'INTEREST AREAS.' CROW: You suppose Mobius has strip malls? > I ALSO HAVE A FULL >SELECTION OF MUSIC FROM YOUR WORLD, JUST IN CASE YOU FEEL >HOMESICK." JOEL: "I know nothing will make you feel more at home than this fine selection of traditional chants from the Tupi and early Mayan cultures." > > "Hmm, I doubt that I'll be too homesick, but I think >that archive might get quite a bit of use." TOM: Now, does he really need an archive of Sonic the Hedgehog fanfics? > > "Sasha is fully self-aware, and, if you like, can jack >you into cyberspace like any other good system here. JOEL: Because even when you are stranded in alien universes, you still want to keep up with "Dilbert." > If you >wish, I can put a 'cyberjack', as you call it, CROW: "Uh, Des, actually, you're the only one calling it that. Can I call you Des?" > on your arm >so you can mentally connect with Sasha, and basically any >other machine that supports an interface cable. It may >cause some discomfort, though." JOEL: For example, it may make you think you're on "The Super Powers Team: Galactic Guardians" for some reason. > > "Hey, sounds great. Go ahead." CROW: Our topic for tonight: Does Keith place too much simple trust in powerful yet inexplicable beings of vast power and unclear agendas? > Hs steeled himself for >the pain he knew would come. > > He expected pain. What he didn't expect was to feel a >hole dig itself into his arm. TOM: I guess he was expecting the cyberjack to go through the little door in his side. > When the hole was deep >enough, he felt a white-hot jet of fire streak up his arm, >and directly into his brain, where it seemed to get hotter, >and then disappear altogether. CROW: This all *sounds* dirty, but we can't actually prove it. > When he looked down, he saw >a small hole, which resembled a headphone jack, just past >his elbow. JOEL: Donating blood marrow is a good thing, though. > Annoyed, he glared at Destiny. "Some >discomfort?! Felt like someone'd lit my brain on fire!! >Jeez!!! Okay, what now?" TOM: "We try again, until it catches." > > "Now, you wake up. CROW: What? This entire thing was a dream sequence? The whole story? Let me out! Let me out! JOEL: I think just this happened in the dream. CROW: Gyp! Gyp! > I think you'll find the people of >Knothole to be a bit less judgmental." JOEL: Now some of them will show signs of remorse after having you executed. > > "What'd you do?" Keith was rather suspicious. He was >sure that Destiny had messed with their heads. CROW: Suddenly this story's become Country/Western music. > Much as the >thought appealed to him, he still didn't like the idea. TOM: I give him credit for trying to convey emotional ambiguity, but the sentence still doesn't scan. > > "I did nothing. You, however, gave them one serious >wakeup call. JOEL: But they've got a snooze bar called "Nemesis," so it's hard to call. > You'll see. CROW: Maybe. > Now, it's time for you to go." JOEL: I'm so glad we had this quiet time together. Wanna make out? > >Chapter 4: A New Player TOM: Five civilizations...play the Americans...President Abe Lincoln...difficulty 'easy.' > > "...And that's it. So," Keith said, standing up, "what >shall we do next?" CROW: I'm up for grilled cheese sandwiches, myself. > He had just spent the past half hour >relating to Sally, Sonic, and Bunnie ALL: [ Snickering ] > just what had happened >the previous night. Bunnie, who JOEL: Was really bitter at the lack of effort given to naming her. > had no idea what happened >after he walked away from the trial, was quickly filled in >by Sonic. CROW: With 10W40 oil. > "So that's it? Y'all come here, ya give us that >there dressin'-down, an' now y'expect us ta jus' trust ya >like nuthin' happened?" Keith gazed at Bunnie solemnly. TOM: [ As Keith ] "You're German, aren't you?" >"No. I don't expect you to go on as if it were nothing. CROW: I expect you to *die*, Ms. Rabbot. > It >was a big thing, I know. But, you have to understand. One >of the reasons I came here in the first place was to escape JOEL: This 'Destiny' freak. What is with her, anyway? >all the stereotypes, the judgment, all that 'sins of the >father' [ bleep ] TOM: Aw, great, Joe Don Baker gets into the cartoons. > that has become a way of life on my planet. >The other, to do exactly what I'm doing now, offering CROW: This exclusive licensing deal. > my >services in order to help win back your world. Now, do you >understand?" TOM: Uh...Joel? JOEL: Go ahead, this one deserves it. TOM: Thanks. "If your puny brains don't understand I could use even smaller words." > > "Ah understand. It'll take some time to get used ta CROW: Mah eksent. >it, but ah understand." Bunnie did. The first few weeks >after her partial roboticization were worse than any torture >that she could have conceived. JOEL: Except for dealings with her Student Loans Officer. > She knew how it was, to bear >the sorrow and frustration on her shoulders. Over time, >they accepted her, and realized TOM: She had a built-in percolator, too. > that there was still a >living heart in her chest. JOEL: It belonged to the space metal-parasite that had infested her. > But she never forgot the lessons >those weeks taught her. CROW: One. Never call someone "Bob" if he introduced himself to you as "Robert." JOEL: Two. The Chain Rule and Integration by Parts are equivalent mathematical operations. TOM: Three. Having lots of incidents doesn't make for a plot. > > Keith smiled. "Good. I am glad to meet you, Bunnie, >and I hope I can be as good a friend as these two." He >offered his hand. TOM: [ As Bunnie ] "Oh, you're friends with your hands...well, that's special, I guess." > Bunnie was surprised at the sudden >gesture of friendship, but then she grinned and took it. CROW: "OW! OW! MINE DOESN'T COME OFF! LET GO! OW!" >"Well, all right then, sugah. Let's go get that fat boy!" JOEL: John Goodman, you're goin' down! > >* * * * * > > "Remember the plan? TOM: "Right. I'm to be captured and be a distraction, then you come get me in the end, right?" > Bunnie and Sonic, set the charges. >Keith you and... Sasha cut the alarms. Two minutes, and CROW: Then another two minutes. >I'll fire. Ready? Go!" Sonic dashed off, with Bunnie in JOEL: His trunk. Who knows why? >tow. Keith hooked Sasha into the security alarms via a >small comm terminal that was nearby. TOM: Artoo! What have I told you about talking with strange computers? > When he got the signal >from Sasha, he flashed the thumbs-up to Sally. CROW: Unfortunately, on Mobius, this is the equivalent of giving "the finger" several times over, and a fight erupted and they all were killed. The end. > >* * * * * > > "Sir, CROW: Oh, pootertoots. We almost had a way out of this story. > the security system in sector Alpha-3 has been >shut down. JOEL: "Wonder who'd want to shut down a useful system like that?" > It may be a power surge, but... ack!" TOM: One of the hazards of this planet, he's now got a hairball. > This last >part was said as Dr. Robotnik yanked Snively up by his JOEL: Cringe. >collar. With a look that had the penetration power of a CROW: Gadget for slicing plastic foam sheets. >cutting laser, Robotnik whispered. "But it's probably the TOM: Guys to clean the pool. >hedgehog. I hope you're right, though, Snively. If the >hedgehog gets to that communications relay, you will be JOEL: Shouting a lot more. >delivering those messages on foot. Do I make myself >perfectly clear?" CROW: "Everything but that stuff after 'Right, Snively.'" > > " C-crystal clear, sir!" Robotnik tossed >Snively into a chair -- hard. JOEL: When Ikea is used for evil purposes. > "Now, Snively," Robotnik >said in a voice that made Snively wish he was in the >Roboticizer, "get to it!" TOM: What's so bad about a Roboticizer anyway? CROW: Yeah. It's a cool idea. > > "Y-y-yes, sir!" He keyed the intercom. "All SWATbots, >proceed to Sector Alpha-3. JOEL: Alpha Trion? I remember that episode of "Transformers." > Priority alert hedgehog! >Repeat, Priority hedgehog!" ALL: [ Snicker ] CROW: Doesn't exactly intimidate the audience, does it? > > Robotnik grabbed Snively's arm. "Snively, TOM: "Don't you understand, I'm trying to tell you I love you!" > who is >that?" He was staring at one of the monitor screens. There >was a large figure hunched over one of the computer >terminals. JOEL: It's the Incredible Hulk! > It looked almost... "Human? But, that can't be! CROW: Oh wait...my mistake...it's a local TV News Anchor. Nothing human. >We took care of all... the..." Snively faltered as Robotnik >fixed him with a withering glare. "It appears not, Snively. TOM: I guess it doesn't really matter who says what, here. >Now, would you be so kind as to go GET him, hmm?" Without a >word, Snively dashed out the door. JOEL: [ As Snively ] *Sniff* My agent of evil...I think I'll keep him. > >* * * * * > > "Oh, now THIS is neat!" For the past few minutes, >Keith had been hunched over the terminal, TOM: Well, Keith is at the age when he should be...'exploring' himself... > giggling and >muttering to himself. Sally was beginning to think JOEL: About the joys of abdication. > he'd >lost it, when a yellow energy bolt whizzed past her head. CROW: Oh, now that's just dirty! >She looked up, and saw Snively leading a group of SWATbots >right towards Keith! TOM: [ As Sally ] "Ha-ha! My plan worked!" > His head snapped up at the sound. >Sally barely heard him mutter, "Aw, [ bleep ]!" right before he >dashed off around the corner. CROW: Huh. Fighting a war is easy when you've seen lots of Tex Avery cartoons. > The SWATbots followed suit, >their blasters drilling away the the ground at his feet. JOEL: Hey look, it's an untapped gold deposit!...and there's oil...and dilithium...and blue sparkly special effects! >Snively stayed where he was. No sense getting dirty running >after one strange, unarmed human. TOM: Snively's not highly motivated. > Suddenly, an arm slipped >around his neck, trapping him in a choke hold! Snively had >barely enough time to think before he was whirled around. CROW: Man, I bet that shows up on his next employee review. >What he saw froze his heart. The SWATbots were carrying out >their orders, but the problem was, JOEL: They're just not very good at all this. > Snively was now right in >front of the human! "Stop! Halt! That is an order!" TOM: "Obey or I'll cry!" > > "Good move, little man. Now, if you want to keep on >enjoying the feeling of a beating heart, CROW: "Or my tender embrace..." JOEL: "Our gentle kisses in the morning..." > I suggest you call >off the patrol, before I take your little neck and turn it >until you can see what your heels look like!" TOM: The most aggressive "Buster Brown" salesman ever. > Snively, >being the craven little freak he was, followed instructions. JOEL: "I've got the macaroni and cheese boiling, but I don't have a quarter-cup of milk!" >"Very, good, little man! Now, since you seem to like being >alive, do not even move until I am only a really bad memory. TOM: What is he now? >Ta!" The arm left Snively's throat, and as he turned, he JOEL: Found his tie was now tied! CROW: Neat. >cought the human's feet disappearing around a corner. TOM: The Invisible Fanfic, by Ralph "Harlan" Ellison. >Shaking with rage, he screamed (though it came out as a >rather pathetic little squeak), CROW: Oh, great, a human with the characteristics of a gerbil. > "Get him! Kill the human!! CROW, TOM: [ Singing ] Kill da hu-man! Kill da hu-man! JOEL: Stop that! >Do not let him leave!!!" > > " I thought... that he... would know JOEL: That the Capital of Minneapolis is not Saint Paul. >better than that!" Keith quipped as he and Sally ran >headlong down the dark corridors and alleyways of TOM: Their own minds, in this, The Twilight Zone. >Robotropolis. Sally, exhausted as she was, managed to glare >up at the human. "Just... keep quiet and pant> CROW: Oh, *another* dirty part! > RUN!" They did. They had gotten about another >hundred yards or so when Keith screeched to a halt. TOM: "I can't run anymore. I had soft-boiled eggs this morning." > Sally >stopped as soon as she could, and looked to see why he had >stopped. CROW: Oh, they were in a No-Fleeing zone. > All she saw was Keith staring, jaw slack, eyes >glittering, at a JOEL: Gigantic creamsicle. > hovercycle that a SWATbot had left in order >to carry out some order or other. TOM: Plot point borrowed from 'The Superfriends.' > He was gazing at it like >he was in love. CROW: Oh, I'm starting to feel uncomfortable now. TOM: Joel, please tell me you've never had thoughts like that about us. > "That," he said in a dreamy voice, "is the >single most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life!" JOEL: I think Sasha's been taking over Keith's nervous system here... >He shook himself out of his reverie, and slowly an evil grin >spread across his face. CROW: Yet another story ruined by a viewing of "Death Cycle." > Sally did not like the look of that >grin. Not one bit. TOM: [ As Sally ] "I bet he's imagining what I'd look like naked, if I wore clothes in the first place." JOEL: Oh, it's time to go, guys. CROW: Awww... [ BREAK ] From: neb...@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us (Joseph Nebus) Subject: MSTed: Sonic the Hedgehog--"Altered Destiny" [ 3 / 4 ] Date: 1997/08/11 Message-ID: <5soddm$q3q$1@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us> X-Deja-AN: 263614096 Organization: Blacksburg Electronic Village Newsgroups: alt.fan.mst3k,alt.tv.mst3k,rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc,alt.fan.sonic-hedgehog This is, if my server lets it through, a fairly big Mystery Science Theater 3000 treatment of a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic, "Altered Destiny," written by Keith Aksland, a friend of mine who asked me to look over his story and add lots of cheap jokes and goofy shots at Sonic's expense. If you take Sonic the Hedgehog very seriously, you should probably skip my posts. If you don't, please, read on and, hopefully, enjoy. Thank you very much. Turn off your computer (where applicable). Joseph Nebus ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [ INT SOL. JOEL is resting his arm on the desk; CROW is leaning his head against JOEL's arm. A light piece of duct tape and a weak piece of twine connect CROW's nose and head to JOEL's arm. TOM is off-camera. ] JOEL: You feel good about this? CROW: Yeah, I'm set. [ TOM enters, with several envelopes in one hand. ] TOM: Hi, guys. What's up? CROW: Ready to tell him? JOEL: I think so. Tom, Crow and I were thinking about the fanfic, and we realized it just made good sense. TOM: Oh, you and he joined in a deep cybernetic linkup so you could fuse your natural talents and abilities to make a combined organism superior to all others? CROW: Uh...yeah, that's about got it. JOEL: We figured it'd be really cool. TOM: So, like, you'll be able to answer the mysteries of the Universe, like why is it on "Scooby Doo" whenever Velma lost her glasses, she immediately became stupid as a bowl of hair? JOEL: Uh...we have limits. TOM: Oh. Did you get one of those psychic linkups too? CROW: Yes. JOEL: [ Simultaneously ] No. [ CROW, JOEL look at each other. ] [ Simultaneously ] JOEL: No. CROW: Yes. [ A beat. ] TOM: I take it there are still quirks in the linkup. JOEL: Yeah, Crow, I'm sure I didn't make a psychic linkup for us. CROW: I'm sure you did, Joel. I can feel your thoughts. JOEL: No way. CROW: Honest. Let me concentrate and try to pick up your mental impressions. JOEL: [ Shaking his head ] I'm sure, but... CROW: Okay. Let's see... [ CROW concentrates. After a few beats, JOEL talks to TOM. ] JOEL: So, uh, what're those envelopes? TOM: Beats me. I just found them in a mayonnaise jar. JOEL: Can I see? TOM: Sure. [ JOEL pulls the first envelope free. ] CROW: [ Suddenly. ] Hot cross buns. JOEL: [ Turning to CROW ] Huh? TOM: Hot cross buns? CROW: I'm sure of it. JOEL: [ Tears open the envelope and reads the card inside. CROW has to work to stay on JOEL's arm during it. ] "What spilled out onto the streets when the air conditioning broke in the middle of the debate session during last summer's rabbit convention?" [ A beat. ] CROW: Hm. TOM: Peculiar. JOEL: We can probably do better. [ JOEL pulls out the next envelope. ] CROW: [ Confidently ] Oberon; Minerva; and Tom Arnold. TOM: Oberon, Minerva, and Tom Arnold. CROW: You heard me. JOEL: [ Opens the envelope; reads the card. ] "Name a moon, a toon, and a goon." [ A beat. ] JOEL: Are you sure this thing is working? CROW: May an overbearing camel bed down in your laundry room. JOEL: [ Shaking his head ] If you say so. TOM: Let's try another. JOEL: [ Takes out another envelope. ] We may regret this. CROW: [ Sharply ] A koala hitman at dinnertime. TOM: A...koala...hitman. CROW: At dinnertime. JOEL: [ Opens the envelope and reads. ] "What eats shoots and leaves?" [ Two beats. ] JOEL: Okay, then. [ Starts ripping the tape and string off CROW. ] CROW: Hey! JOEL: I don't think we make a really powerful team. CROW: Just as well. You get some weird thoughts, Joel. TOM: I knew it. JOEL: I do not! [ MOVIE SIGN flashes ] ALL: AAAAAUGH! JOEL: I wasn't thinking of story sign! [ 6.. 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. ] [ ALL settle back in ] > >* * * * * TOM: Where were we again? JOEL: Uh, nowhere. TOM: Oh yeah. > > "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?! YOU'RE GOING TO >KILL US BOTH!!" CROW: YES! JOEL: Go for it! TOM: Please! > Sally screamed as they tore across >Robotropolis at speeds that only Sonic could match. Keith CROW: Is just asking for a bunch of traffic violations. >whooped in sheer exhilaration. "PRINCESS, YOU BETTER PRAY >TO EVERY GOD YOU BELIEVE IN THAT THIS BIKE HAS ENOUGH POWER >TO GET US ACROSS THAT CANYON!!!" TOM: That's a pretty long shout, actually. > Sally caught herself as >she saw what Keith was talking about. JOEL: "That's not a canyon, it's just a matte painting!" > The only thing that >could even resemble a canyon near here was the mile-wide >gorge that bordered the Great Unknown. CROW: Yeah, I guess that might be thought of as a canyon, somehow. > She almost lost her >grip in panic. TOM: Yeah, why do anything to avoid plunging to certain doom? > "STOP!!! NO!! TURN AROUND!!!" She shouted >until she was hoarse, but it did no good. Keith aimed for a >chunk of slate, and muttered, "Sasha, afterburners, please." CROW: Great, now it's the Knight Rider video game. >With an ear-splitting explosion, the bike shot forward. The >hoverjets hit the chunk, and the bike's nose angled up. JOEL: Lucky they hit the "space shuttle" model of hovercycle. Think how much trouble they'd be in if they'd stolen the Robotropolis equivalent of a milk truck. >"HERE WE GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" ALL: [ Singing ] On the Great Space Coaster! > The bike soared across the gorge. >All of a sudden, a kind of peacefulness came over Sally, as >she accepted that she TOM: Had split ends in her tail. > was going to die. The world seemed to >go by in slow motion, and Sally saw JOEL: The "Six Million Dollar Man" marathon. > her life flashing before >her eyes. When the show was over, Sally fainted. CROW: Those clip shows take a lot out of a person. > > "Sally? Hello? Yo, Princess, rise and shine! We made >it!" JOEL: "Oh, great, I finally get a hovercycle and the first thing I do is run over a squirrel." > > "Huh? Wha---," Sally mumbled as she began to wake up. >Her eyes flew open as she remembered what had happened, and CROW: Thought "Oh, man, what was *in* that punch?" >with a grace and speed Keith never thought possible, she >leaped up and tackled the human. CROW: "Oh, no, I didn't, not with *YOU* oh NOOOOOOO!" > > "WHAT did you think you were doing?!" Sally was >furious. Her eyes blazed with such a cold blue flame that >Keith was actually afraid for his life. JOEL: He knew he'd never live it down if he were killed by a squirrel. CROW: Huh? > The feeling passed, >though, as he realized that it was mainly residual panic. TOM: As the feelings of other people are essentially trivial and should have minimal impact on our lives. >He grinned weakly. "S'okay, Princess. We're alive, aren't >we?" Keith's attempt at the Ultimate Argument of Logic >worked. CROW: You know, I'd have guessed the Ultimate Argument of logic would regard the non-denumerability of the Cantor set, or Godel's Incompleteness Theorem, or such...outtakes from "The Dukes of Hazzard" would've been my fifth guess. > Sally's rantings faltered, and the fire left her >eyes. She got off Keith's chest, and allowed him to sit up. TOM: Baka-wow! >"Not bad, Sally! Where'd you learn to do that?" Sally >looked up at him, almost ready to cry, JOEL: What the--this is a counter-revolution! There's no crying in counter-revolutions! > but seeing the >dancing lights in his eyes, couldn't help but start to >laugh. CROW: Ah, the fine cackling of the manically insane. > Her crystal voice echoed across the gorge behind >them, and seemed to fill the Great Unknown with laughter. >Keith couldn't help but join in. The two of them laughed >long and loud, for what seemed like an eternity. TOM: [ Unenthusiastically ] Ha-ha. Ha-ha. > Finally, >they started to calm down. TOM: Whew. > They picked themselves off the >floor, and walked back over to the hoverbike. Sally had >never felt better. JOEL: Not even the time they brought anti-lice shampoos to Mobius. > All the pain and misery that had pressed >down on her shoulders for so many years now seemed much >lighter. CROW: Suddenly the war is *fun* again! > Laughter, she mused, truly is the best medicine. TOM: And a smile is the best umbrella. JOEL: And a puppy is the only love money can buy. CROW: And swimming is the best form of exercise. >Suddenly, a thought struck her. "Keith, did we detonate >those charges?" > > The look on his face was answer enough. He addressed >Sasha. "Um, Sasha, where are those bombs now?" CROW: "They're being turned into pilot episodes for the UPN." > > "JUST A MINUTE. I'M SCANNING NOW." A few seconds >later, she finished. TOM: "We, uh, accidentally left them back home. Sorry about that." > "WELL, ABOUT 75% ARE STILL IN PLACE. >THE OTHERS ARE CURRENTLY ON THEIR WAY TO ROBOTNIK'S >HEADQUARTERS." JOEL: I guess Robotnik would be rather stupid to take the bombs to a disposal area when he could be bringing them to his living room instead. > > "You're a princess, Sasha. Thanks." Turning to Sally, >he said, "Well, we can still do some damage, and even add >insult to injury. What say?" CROW: Why not wait for all the bombs to be taken into Robotnik's headquarters, if that's where they're going? > > Sally smiled. She liked his thinking. "NICOLE, >detonate." > >* * * * * > > The Control Center shook as a massive explosion rocked >the hangar at its side. JOEL: "Okay, kids, this is the fifth time you've done this, now, your mom and I have talked with you before and it's just got to stop." > "Sir, Communications relay is off- >line. Hangar #2 also reports heavy damage." > > "Well, Snively, I told you what would happen if you >failed." Snively cringed and squeaked, as per the custom >for frightened rats. CROW: Oh, now Snively's going to bite and give Robotnik the bubonic plague. > "What happened, by the way, with the >human? I told you to go get him." > > "Uh, w-w-well, sir, we encountered... a problem, sir." > > "And what kind of problem would that be, Snively?" TOM: "Turned out we were wrong and it's wabbit season." >There was something in Robotnik's voice that said he didn't >care what the problem was, but he knew Snively would pay >dearly for it. JOEL: See, this is what happens when Total Quality Management programs get misapplied. > > "Well, sir, the human seems to be... extremely >intelligent. TOM: As he reminded us every other sentence. CROW: Another one! TOM: Would you stop counting? JOEL: It's his cookies now. > He managed to outwit my patrol, JOEL: But, then, hands on a clock outwit his patrols. > and he somehow >hot-wired a hoverbike." CROW: Oh, he just turned it on. > > "Well, Snively, why don't you trace it?" Robotnik's >face was turning an interesting shade of purple. > > "Uh... ummm... TOM: "Doc, I think we're growing apart." > he... he destroyed the homing >transmitter as well." > > "He WHAT?!?!" CROW: I didn't mean it. I don't know what I was thinking. > > What happened next is far too disturbing for me to put >down, TOM: Me? JOEL: What does it say about a story when the third-person omniscient point of view can't stay in character? CROW: It says it's a fanfic. > but let's just say that Snively will wake up several >days later with one mother of a headache. > > "Packbell, you're in charge of finding that blasted >human now. I trust you won't fail me." CROW: Oh, wait, you will fail me. I forgot. > The android looked >down at the inert and bleeding form of Robotnik's nephew, >and hastily agreed. TOM: So, why wasn't Snively roboticized, again? What special talent was Packbell afraid of losing? > >* * * * * > > The two could see the smoke all the way from the Great >Unknown. Keith grinned down at the Princess. "Welp," he >said, "I think JOEL: That's the biggest forest fire I've set in *months*. > we'd best be getting back to Knothole before >they think I hurt you or something." His tone was light, >but Sally picked up the message beneath it. CROW: [ Sounding out Charades ] You want...you want me to go...go to the store, okay, I'm to go to the store and you want me to...to...sounds like "earring"?...uh... > Picked it up >loud and clear. "You know," she said, "there are those who >would be willing to give you a chance, if you'd let them." TOM: Nothing proves trustworthiness more than pulling insane stunts on alien technology. > > "I'm sure there are, but on that note, I'm kinda a >'seeing is believing' person. JOEL: Unless I'm asked to believe a mysterious super-powerful being that only appears in dreams. > Let them come to me, and I'll >give them a shot. Anyway," he said, shaking his head, >"let's head back." CROW: Hang on, could we stop off at Wa-wa first? I really need a super-slushie. > > "All right, but could you take it slow? JOEL: The last thing we need is for this to wander into "Return of the Jedi." > I can only >stand one heart attack a day, you know." > >Chapter 5: Another Chance > > It was midafternoon by the time the two reached >Knothole. Sonic had already organized a search-and-rescure >team, CROW: All this trouble just 'cause they don't have prepaid telephone cards. > and they were just about ready to head out when Sally >ran up and hugged Sonic. TOM: [ As Sonic ] "Oh, great! You can help us look for Sally and that human!" > > "And just where were ya? I was just about to go out >lookin for you!" Sonic was relieved that she was back, >though, and the lecture turned into a long hug. JOEL: Now you just go to your room and think about your not dying. > "So," he >said, as they finally let go, "where's the trainee?" > > "Right here, blue boy!" CROW: Blue Boy, Pennsylvania? JOEL: You behave. > All heads turned and stared at >the human sitting astride his hoverbike, looking like a >cyberpunk's version of a Horseman of the Apocalypse. TOM: Hey, did he just appropriately use a simile? In a fanfic? CROW: It's stunning. We may make it through this yet. > He was >grinning like a maniac. There were some scattered >mutterings, a few scathing remarks, but nothing incredibly >audible. ALL: Murmur murmur murmur murmur murmur murmur. > > Keith turned to the crowd. "What? Haven't I proven >myself yet? My God, what does it take to get you people off >my back?! TOM: It's not that, they're just staring at the headlights. CROW: Yeah, turn the lights off, they'll snap out of it. > Oh, maybe this will help. Sasha, could you call >up that little thing we found back at Robotropolis? You >know the one." JOEL: It's a T-shirt reading "I heart Robotropolis, but Robotropolis doesn't heart me." > > "NO PROBLEM, BWANA." Immediately a holographic display >shimmered into view. It was a detailed set of blueprints >for something called a Death Egg. ALL: [ Snickering ] CROW: Yeah, and later on, the evil Dr. Robotnik is going to invade Knothole and TP their lawns. > > "Oh, my gosh, Sonic! Look at this! He's found the >schematics we've been trying to figure out for the past JOEL: Two sentences! >three weeks!" Looking up at her friend, she asked, "How on >Mobius did you get these?" TOM: Actually, I just cued the laserdisk version of "Star Wars" up to the right scene. > > Keith shrugged. "I guess there's something to be said >for dumb luck. Anyway, now that we know how this works, we >can have a little fun, no?" JOEL: Yeah, with this Death Egg we'll finally make the chickens respect us. > > "I don't know... We'll have to study it carefully. >There may be some surprises in this little toy. TOM: Like there...see? "Choking hazard--Do not give to children under three years old." > Only way to >make sure nothing goes wrong..." > > "...Is if we spend weeks in careful perparation, I know CROW: Genius is one percent inspiration, and ninety-nine percent perparation. >the drill." He opens his mouth in a jaw-cracking yawn. TOM: Ccccrick! Bop! Boing! JOEL: Ih fehh off! Hewp! >"Just hope I can find something to do during the off-time." >He shrugs. "Ah, well, I'll find something. So! What now?" TOM: Maybe he could visit the set of "Super Mario Brothers." > > Sally blinked as something occurred to her. "Wait a >minute! We forgot the sleeping arrangements!" CROW: I'll just use my massive brainpower to create suitable quarters out of pure thought. TOM: FOUL! FOUL! Now he has to give up a cookie to me! CROW: No fair! JOEL: Sounds fair to me, actually. > She looked >around at the crowd. All she heard was more muttering. >"He's already got a place to stay. Better put him back >there." Keith just rolled his eyes and sighed. CROW: But I don't fold up to *fit* in the linen closet. > "Okay, who >said that? Come on, come out. I'd rather see my >persecutors face-to-face, iff'n y'don't mind." Recieving no >answer, he smirked. JOEL: Class, I'm going to turn off the lights and sit down until you show you can control yourselves." > Sally did not like that light in his >eyes. "Aww, c'mon! Don't tell me you're too much of a >coward to say it to my face, are you?" TOM: Maybe they'd be more comfortable offering to sniff each others' rear ends. JOEL: You behave too. > Even though he was >adressing no one in particular, an angry snort went up from >the back of the crowd. Keith heard, and craned his neck. CROW: [ Calling ] Cock-a-doodle-doooooooo! >"Yes? The hatemonger in the back? You have something to >add? Come on, share your feelings with the group!" JOEL: Or we'll just cancel the video. You have to earn the right to see "Inspector Molecule." > The >crowd parted as someone shoved their way up to the front. >It was the badger that had tangled with him the day before. >Keith just grinned. "What's the matter?" TOM: [ Sobbing ] I'm afraid of cosines! > > "What's the matter?! The matter is, I'm tired of >seeing your face! You humans should be wiped from the face >of Mobius!" Keith's eyes grew deadly serious at this >comment. "Is this what you really believe? That I should CROW: Feel freer about breaking up my paragraphs? >be killed?" > > "You're damn right, that's what I think!" Keith >nodded, then pulled out a blaster pistol he'd managed to >acquire from a TOM: Plot point we just thought up. > SWATbot. He handed it, grip first, to the >badger. "Fine. Go ahead." JOEL: "But...uh...this is a Mobian toothpaste dispensor." > > This threw the badger for a loss. "What?" He was >stammering, but he took the pistol, and steeled himself. He >pointed it at the boy's head. But didn't pull the trigger. CROW: Probably has to borrow opposable thumbs from somebody too. > > Keith looked disappointed. "What's wrong? Oh, I see. >I'm too tall. I'm scaring you. JOEL: No, it's toothpaste! We told you that. > Here, I'll get down on my >knees. There, now you can go ahead." They were at eye >level now, Keith gazing into the badger's blazing red eyes. TOM: And the badger counts the days to retirement. >But still nothing. "Now what? Oh, okay, you're afraid >you'll miss. You never were a good shot, and you might >miss, even this close. JOEL: "All right, I'll shoot, but it'll just get cavity protection all over your jacket." > Here." He leaned forward, so that >his forehead was pressed up against the barrel. "You can go >ahead now. You can't miss." CROW: Can *we* shoot instead? > Still nothing. "Come on, one >little squeeze of that trigger, and I'll be out of your life >for good. TOM: Sure it's painful, but just think how bad the moral will be later on. > You'd like that, wouldn't you? Come on, just >one." CROW: Or maybe two, or, uh, nineteen. > The fire in the badger's eyes was faltering. Keith's >voice was hypnotic. "Do it. TOM: Obey... > Do it. JOEL: Must-defrost-the-refrigerator. > Shoot me, and it's >over. CROW: The whole fanfic, over. > Do it." JOEL: Oh, and, after that, every time somebody says 'Chicago' to you you'll think your pants are on fire. > > The badger broke down. The pistol dropped, and he >began to shiver. "I can't. Why can't I?" He began to cry. >Keith drew him close in a comforting hug. TOM: The badger, however, was warned by his parents about being touched this way. > "You can't, >because you do value life, no matter what species it is. JOEL: Except for cougars, coyotes, and any other species that eats badgers. >Hold onto that, my friend, because you may lose it one day, >and then you will be truly damned. Everything's fine now." CROW: Give mommy a kiss now. > > "Keith, I can't believe you did that to him!" Sally >had her hands on her hips, TOM: And her hips on her shoulders. CROW: And her shoulders on her kneecaps. JOEL: And her kneecaps on her forehead. > and she was glowering down at the >boy. > > Keith released the badger, stood up, and looked >directly at Sally. "Would you rather I argued with him, and >got mobbed? CROW: Yeah, that'd be cool to see. > I wouldn't have a chance, and you know it. >Better I make them," he points in the general direction of >the crowd, "see that they do, in fact, have a heart, TOM: Actually, they wanted to see his heart, as I understand. > than I >scream and yell, and get torn to pieces. What do you think? >My methods may be shocking, but they JOEL: Really aren't. > work better than >anything else I could have come up with." As Sally was >considering this, a small hand went up from the back of the >crowd. CROW: Teacher, can I go to the lavoratory? > "He can stay with me!" As the villagers parted, a >teenage raccoon girl could be seen, waving her paw. >"Rebecca? Are you sure about this?" TOM: "Uhm...no, I'm Carol, Rebecca is the crab-eating raccoon down the block." > > "Sally, I've never been more sure of anything in my >life. JOEL: But then I'm three weeks old. > This poor boy hasn't had a proper reception into >Knothole society, and I intend to give him one." She looked >back at Keith. "Come on, it's this way." CROW: If this turns "naughty" I'm going to vomit. JOEL: Wow. > > Just before he left, Sally grabbed Keith's arm. >"Careful, Keith. She seems to have designs on you." TOM: Remember kids, if a girl tries to be friends with a boy, it's cause she's got mysterious "designs" on him. > Keith >just grinned. "And what makes you think she'll get far? I >do have a rather firm resolve, CROW: And as a girl, she's got lots of cooties. > and I think that she'll be >pulling her hair out by the time I'm done with her. Trust >me." TOM: This is how girls look when you don't have hormones. > He winked at Sally, and walked off with Rebecca. JOEL: I feel like apologizing to every woman everywhere now. > > "So, tell me, why did you volunteer? You realize, of >course, that you're harboring a human, CROW: He's wanted for being a human in two states. > and it'll make you >kinda unpopular." TOM: [ As Rebecca ] "That's all right, I'm already deeply resented for my massive intellect." CROW: Foul! Foul! JOEL: Sorry, Crow, he didn't riff on Keith. CROW: No fair! TOM: Sounds fair to me. > The two were walking through the forest, >getting to know one another. JOEL: [ As Rebecca ] "Another few minutes and we'll get to the kitchen. The campers will have hung all the food from trees, but that never stops us." > Keith regarded his new roomie >with interest. Rebecca MacPherson, the only Freedom >fighter, aside from the major ones, to ever give him a >chance to show his true colors. CROW: Unfortunately, they're mauve and indigo. Yick. > She was pretty, if you went >for that sort of thing. TOM: Yeah, who likes 'pretty' these days anyway? > Her fur was light brown, but silver >on her face and tail. Quite striking, really. JOEL: Slap! CROW: [ As Keith ] I was just looking! > Her raven- >dark hair was parted down the middle, hanging into her eyes >every so often. And the eyes... they were what really got >to him. They were emerald green, dancing and full of life. TOM: But a good antibacterial agent and that'll get all cleared up. >The eyes of someone who's sense of humor would never die. CROW: She's got Andy Kaufmann eyes? >Rebecca smirked as she noticed his scrutiny. "Finished?" >She enjoyed watching his face turn the darkest red she had >ever seen. JOEL: But keep in mind, she's colorblind. > "About your question, I did it for three >reasons. One, because you've gone through a lot, and >deserve to at least be able to sleep nights. CROW: Two, you have a big shiny on your arm. > Two, I meant >what I said back there, about giving you a proper warm >reception." TOM: "Dear Pentmouse: I'm a newcomer to a small midwestern cartoon..." > > "And the third?" He was pretty sure he knew this one. TOM: Which he knew thanks to his... CROW: Oh, boy! TOM: Uh...being the writer. >They stopped, and Rebecca looked up (way up, he's 6 foot!) >into his eyes. "Three, well, I like you. CROW: "I can't imagine why." > From what I've >seen, you're a pretty nice guy, and that's rare in my >opinion." TOM: Yes, remember, male equals cretin. > > The last statement didn't surprise him too much, but he >was still a bit taken aback. "Really? You're kidding, >right?" CROW: Don't ask me, I'm just trying to follow the script. > > "No, Keith, I'm afraid not. Unlike most of those >jerks, I have a very open mind. TOM: Why, I accept everything at face value and never waste time with critical thinking. > If I like someone, it's for >who they are, here," she laid a hand on his chest, "than >what they look like. You see?" JOEL: Aw, she's got an alveoli fetish. > Keith nodded slowly. "Yes, I see. Thanks again, >Rebecca. I can see I'll be enjoying my stay here a lot more >now." > > Rebecca grinned. "Oh, you may enjoy it more than you >think, my friend..." CROW: "So, as a raccoon do you have eight mammaries?" JOEL: For that, Crow, one of your cookies goes back to Tom. TOM: Ha-ha! > > Keith shook his head. "Doubt it. I think you'll find >me to be an interesting challenge." > > "Oh, REally...?" She pounced him, and they started >rolling through the forest, laughing all the way... CROW: Yeah, hey, friend of mine just got a car and we're gonna go stare at its headlights all night. Want to come? > >Chapter 6: Gathering for the Departed > > Weeks went by, and Keith was slowly acclimated to >Knothole society. TOM: But he'd never get used to them being on metrics. > Acclimated, not accepted. People still >didn't trust him, but he had enough friends so he didn't >notice. CROW: So he's got a lot of friends, he just isn't accepted or trusted. > Quite often, he was seen chatting with Sonic, >Sally, having fun with Tails, or discussing computers and >such with Rotor and David. JOEL: And if we had the faintest clue who David was, we'd be impressed. > Other times, he was helping >Bookshire tend to the sick. All in all, he'd lived a pretty >idyllic life in Knothole. CROW: Except for the way everybody hated him. > > One spring day, however, he'd locked himself in his >room. TOM: It's not locked, the door opens *in*, Brainiac. CROW: Does that count? Do I get another cookie? TOM: No! JOEL: Behave, the both of you. > When Rebecca tried to ask what was wrong, all he >could hear was singing. CROW: Rebecca's a 'he'? JOEL: It's hard to tell, under all that fur. > What the songs were about, though, >was what had disturbed her. Keith was singing strange >requiems, sad songs, and some ones seemed to seethe with >rage. TOM, CROW: [ To "The Nutcracker Suite" ] Smurfberry Crunch is fun to eat! A very special breakfast treat! JOEL: Stop. > He only came out to get food, which he did quickly >and with little if any speaking. CROW: He was really upset the animals all hung their food from trees so the humans couldn't get at it. > > Sally reflected on this as she walked to Rebecca's hut. >Apparently, he had sent Tails to her with a message, saying >that it was imperative that he needed to speak with her. JOEL: It's critically important! Take a conference call! >She didn't know what was on his mind, but she, like most of >the rest of Knothole, was out of their mind with curiosity >or worry, depending on how much they accepted the boy. TOM: Or, well, fits of ennui, anyway. > She >knocked on the door, and gasped at the human who answered >it. JOEL: Ed McMahon? CROW: I *never* thought I'd win the American Publisher's Sweepstakes! > He looked like the very image of misery. His hair, >gone unwashed for weeks, was long and hung around his >shoulders. TOM: A world without shampoo and conditioner. A man without Cartoon Network. Something has to give. > His eyes were surrounded with rings so dark, it >seemed as if his face had become a skull. And the eyes >themselves... CROW: There were suddenly two of them. > they were as empty as the darkest chasms on >Mobius. His voice was hoarse with all the singing he had >done. JOEL: His tummy rumbled from all the hamster food he'd eaten. TOM: His elbows were all tingly from accidentally bumping against the desk. CROW: His shins were lightly sprained from soccer practice. > "Come in, Princess." He stepped aside, and Sally >walked in. CROW: [ Weakly, as Keith. ] Uh, no, that's the closet...uh...well, you're the princess... > > "So, what did you need to talk to me about?" Keith >motioned for her to sit. She did, but he remained standing. TOM: Oh, great, he's pulling a Spock maneuver on us. >It seemed he had a lot to talk about. > > "First, I wish to thank you for everything you've done >for me. JOEL: No one else ever cared enough to judge me in a capital case. > You gave me a chance when it seemed like no one >else trusted me. You are my first, and truest friend, TOM: If you forget about Rebecca, yeah. > and I >want to thank you again for that." He ran his hands through >his hair, got stuck halfway, and gave up. TOM: Yick! CROW: Oh, gross! JOEL: I don't want to know what he got stuck on. > "I'm sure you're >wondering just what in Destiny's name I've been doing for >the past month. CROW: [ As Sally ] I am? Oh, yeah, I am. Right. > Well, I've been thinking, and I've >discovered something." > > "And what would that be, Keith?" JOEL: No matter how hard you try, you can't fold a potato chip. > > "That. That's it right there. For the past month, I >feel like I've been... how can I say this? TOM: I'm getting really uncomfortable, guys. > I'm not who I >was when I came here, Sally." JOEL: I've become a raisin collector. > > "What are you talking about?" Sally was genuinely >concerned, and a little afraid. This was totally unlike the >Keith she knew, who was always upbeat, even when discussing >his own death. CROW: Discussing his *what*? JOEL: "Yeah, I've found my mortality has always been just the thing to pick up the conversation." > > "I'm talking about the conditions of my journey here. >You remember what I was told?" > > "Yess-ss, I do. TOM: Had to book three weeks in advance, stay over on a Saturday night, one piece of carry-on luggage, no more than two suitcases, and waived your bonus miles. > You had to give up everything you hold >dear, everything about you world." Keith nodded. "Exactly. >But what I didn't realize was that in order to renounce my >world, I had to renounce my identity." CROW: He's becoming Batman. > > "I don't see..." She was interrupted by Keith. "No, >but you will. JOEL: He's been named the Earl of Kent. > What I mean is that Keith Aksland, the human >who lived on Earth, has died." > > This statement shocked Sally down to the very core of >her being. TOM: The very acorn of her soul. > "What?! What are you talking about? You're not >dead! You're sitting right here in front of me!" CROW: If Sally had just been the main character, she would have understood metaphor. > But some >morbid part of her mind chuckled, looking at him. *Are you >sure about that? Just look at him!* But the thought was >quickly pushed away. JOEL: "I've looked before; he can't be any better now." > "You, Keith, are not dead. You're >standing right here before me, spouting nonsense. Why do >you think you're dead?" TOM: "Well, I don't have a pulse, haven't breathed in two weeks, and I keep seeing long-dead relatives beckoning me home." > > He rolled his eyes and sighed irritably, as if trying >to get a toddler to understand a basic truth. "What I mean >is TOM: My super-brain has transcended your petty 'life' and 'death'! CROW: Another one for me! TOM: He deserved it! > that I have renounced my past life, as well as my world, >and, in fact, I am no longer human." Sally was about to say >something, but he quickly grabbed her hand and put it to the >top of his head. CROW: "I can pat your stomach and rub your head at the same time!" > She felt around for a second, frowning, >when she felt it! TOM: Ew... > It was barely beginning to push through, JOEL: The weirdest "dirty" scene I've ever read. >but she was sure of what it was; ALL: [ Squirming ] No! No! Spare us! > an ear! CROW: Huh? TOM: An *ear*? JOEL: Keith has gone bye-bye now. > She quickly felt >the other side... another! She withdrew her hand, more >confused than ever. CROW: So, Sally is completely unaware of the existence of ears? > He looked at her. "Though I'd rather >not show you, JOEL: He's a man with ears that almost poke out of his hair. Don't cross him. > I'm also feeling the beginnings of a tail. CROW: It looks just like the one my pet guinea pig used to have. > I >don't think it'll be long before the transformation resolves >itself." TOM: Yeah, it's just taken a month to get the beginnings of a tail. This should be wrapped up in another five hours. > > "O-okayy-yy, but what till then?" > > "I think it's best if I went out into the Forest to >finish this off. JOEL: After all, this has *never* happened to any of the other humans who come through to Mobius every other fanfic. > When I return, we will honor the dead." > > "Honor the dead? TOM: Yeah, you know. Gus Grissom, Benjamin Franklin, Tex Avery, and Franklin Delano Roosevelt. > A funeral? But what..." Sally >looked in his eyes, saw the grim resolve set into them, and >gave up protesting. CROW: "Would you just *go* already?" > "All right, but are you sure you'll be >okay?" JOEL: "Sure, I've got everything in the world I need right here, like, uh..." > > "No. But if anything does happen, tell them all thank >you for me. TOM: Thanks for what? Not killing him too often? > And please, if I don't survive this, give me a >proper burial. I didn't live as a criminal; I don't intend >to be remembered as one." JOEL: "Oh, we didn't figure to remember you at all." > With that, he shook Sally's hand, >hugger her briefly, and walked out. CROW: [ With British accent ] Hugger off, Lordship! > >* * * * * > > For a couple of days, no one had seen hide nor hair of >the boy. TOM: But that's just because they're all nocturnal and... > Then, on the third night, there came a shriek >tearing out of the Forest as of some eternally damned >spirit. CROW: Joe Barbera? > Those awake never slept, and those asleep were >plagued with nightmares. JOEL: They imagined they were in Sonic the Hedgehog fanfics. > Even in far-off Robotropolis, Dr. >Ivo Robotnik, ALL: [ Snickering ] Ivo? JOEL: Well, I'd be evil if that was my name. > the only living being to function without a >heart, shivered and moaned in his sleep. CROW: Again with the images we don't want to live with. TOM: Can we take a break? JOEL: [ Picking up TOM ] Yeah, it's about time. [ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ] [ INT SOL. TOM, JOEL, and CROW are standing around, talking. ] JOEL: Wow. Guys, you know, the villain of the Sonic stories here, Ivo Robotnik, really does have an evil name. TOM: An evil name, you say? JOEL: Certainly, Tom. Just try saying it. "Ivo Robotnik." The syllables conjure up visions of a foul, despicable man. CROW: Yeah, I see it. TOM: So you're suggesting that names control our destiny? JOEL: Not that strong a suggestion, Tom. But within the confines of a story, something as simple as what name a character has can go a long way to defining his personality. CROW: So if you want an evil character, it helps to have an evil name for him or her? JOEL: Exactly, Crow. TOM: I kind of see what you're saying. For instance, if you were a character in a story, Joel, you couldn't be evil. 'Joel Robinson' just doesn't pass as an evil name. CROW: No; no, he couldn't. Maybe if he had a different first name, though. TOM: Yeah, like...how about 'Bentley'? JOEL: Bentley? CROW: Sure. Bentley Robinson, daring and ultra-slick super-secret- agent. [ JOEL beings pantomiming to CROW's movie-announcer-like recitation. ] Fast with a gun; faster with the ladies...he knows all the moves, he knows all the secrets, and this summer, he's going to take Washington D.C. hostage. JOEL: [ Standing normally again. ] You got it. How about you, Tom? TOM: Hmm. 'Tom Servo' isn't that evil a name. JOEL: No, it's not. But what if instead you were...hm... TOM: Walt Servo? CROW: Nah. TOM: Jim Servo? JOEL: Definitely not. TOM: Lazarus Servo? CROW: Maybe we can come back to you. Try me instead! JOEL: Okay, Crow...do you think you'd be evil if you were 'Stan T. Robot'? CROW: No...I think I might be an accountant, though. TOM: How about 'Dar T. Robot'? CROW: Hmm... [ Moves around, as though fitting the name. ] Dar T. Robot. They thought he was locked away. They thought he was harmless. They thought he was powerless. They were wrong. This August, they're going to pay. JOEL: Okay, so we've found a good evil name for you. Brings us back to Tom here. How about 'Jerry Servo'? TOM: Too cutesy. CROW: 'Big Bad Bill Servo.' TOM: Sounds like a chili recipe. JOEL: 'Scott Servo?' TOM: That's more a morning DJ's name. CROW: That is pretty darned evil, Tom. JOEL: True. TOM: Still not me, guys. Or, me as an evil person, anyway. JOEL: Why not try some names from the fanfic? 'Ivo Servo?' TOM: Bleah. CROW: 'Bookshire Servo'? TOM: Sounds like a land management plan. JOEL: 'Keith Servo'? TOM: It's not working. Guys, maybe you just can't give me a name that would inherently suggest I was evil. JOEL: 'Blackjack Servo'? CROW: Blackjack Servo: Exiled to a penal planet for crimes humanity would not face...Labor Day weekend, he's going to make them face him again. TOM: Hey, you've got it. I *could* be pure evil if I had the right name! CROW: Great! TOM: Yeah. So, what have we learned? JOEL: Uh... CROW: We learned...uh.. TOM: That with a slightly different name, we wouldn't be carriers of right and good? JOEL: I guess so. CROW: Maybe there is no lesson. Maybe it's a cautionary tale. TOM: There you go. Parents--and parents-to-be: Don't give your children names that will make them evil. CROW: Right. It results in a lot of heartbreak, and fanfics. JOEL: There you go. You guys are learning all the time. [ COMMERCIAL SIGN flashes. ] JOEL: We'll be right back. TOM: But we won't be evil. [ BREAK ] From: neb...@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us (Joseph Nebus) Subject: MSTed: Sonic the Hedgehog--"Altered Destiny" [ 4 / 4 ] Date: 1997/08/11 Message-ID: <5soed2$q79$1@joeshaw.bevc.blacksburg.va.us> X-Deja-AN: 263624901 Organization: Blacksburg Electronic Village Newsgroups: alt.fan.mst3k,alt.tv.mst3k,rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc,alt.fan.sonic-hedgehog This is, if my server lets it through, a fairly big Mystery Science Theater 3000 treatment of a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic, "Altered Destiny," written by Keith Aksland, a friend of mine who asked me to look over his story and add lots of cheap jokes and goofy shots at Sonic's expense. If you take Sonic the Hedgehog very seriously, you should probably skip my posts. If you don't, please, read on and, hopefully, enjoy. Thank you very much. Turn off your computer (where applicable). Joseph Nebus ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [ ALL settle back in ] > >* * * * * > > The next morning, the entire village was gathered to >the eastern border of the town. CROW: Which was about twenty feet from the western border of town. > Apparently, there were some >strange sounds floating over the treetops. It was faint at >first, but gradually grew louder. It sounded like music! TOM: Would somebody get the Beatles off the roof, *please*? >When she heard the voice, Sally's heart leaped to her >throat. It couldn't be! But the singing continued. JOEL: "Somebody want to turn the human down?" > >And the road becomes my bride. >I have stripped of all but pride, >So in her I do confide, >And she keeps me satisfied. CROW: This isn't a very good "Underdog" episode. >Gives me all I need. >And with dust in throat I crave. TOM: Oh, and give me a dollar, too. >Only knowledge will I save. >To the game you stay a slave. >Rover Wanderer >Nomad Vagabond JOEL: These were early concepts for naming Star Trek: Voyager. >Call me what you will, yeah. CROW: Hey, thanks, "Binky." > >But I'll take my time anywhere. >Free to speak my mind anywhere. TOM: See, the Internet has trained people to think of free speech as a blunt instrument. >And I'll redefine anywhere, >Anywhere I roam, >Where I lay my head is home, yeah. JOEL: Well, also where I keep my aspirin collection too. > >And the earth becomes my throne. >I adapt to the unknown. >Under wandering stars I've grown. >By myself but not alone, CROW: I think this is the theme song to some Japanese animation. TOM: I think this is the theme song to *all* Japanese animation. >I ask no one. >And my ties are severed clean. >Less I have, the more I gain. JOEL: [ Theme of "Valerie/Valerie's Family/The Hogan Family" ] In the heart of every family...there's a love that starts by letting go... >Off the beaten path I reign. >Rover Wanderer >Nomad Vagabond >Call me what you will TOM: Biff "Buffington" Biffwell. > >But I'll take my time anywhere. JOEL: "Other people need to use the facilities, you know." >Free to speak my mind anywhere. >And I'll never mind anywhere. CROW: [ Theme to "Cheers" ] "You want to go where everybody knows your name..." >Any where I roam. >Where I lay my head is home. > > As the music seemed to reach it's peak, TOM: A sudden avalanche buried the team and made them cancel their ascent. > a figure could >be seen trotting out of the mists. CROW: Yet strangely he wasn't, because everyone was fascinated by the earthworms that came up after the last rain. > His attitude was of one >who had suffered great pain, but has found shelter and >safety. He stopped, reared back his head, and continued >singing. JOEL: It's always so wacky when Waylon Jennings himself gets involved in a "Dukes of Hazzard" script. > >But I'll take my time anywhere. >Free to speak my mind any where. >And I'll redefine anywhere. CROW: From now on, "anywhere" will mean "Camden, New Jersey." TOM: How horrifying. >Anywhere I roam, >Where I lay my head is home. >Carved upon my stone, >My body lie, but still I roam, yeah, yeah. TOM: [ Singing to "Brady Bunch" theme ] "And that's the way we became The Brady Bunch!" > > The figure stepped completely out of the fog, and the >villagers gasped at what they saw. CROW: X-Y-Z... TOM: Your fly... JOEL: C'mon, you're just embarassing yourself. > A male raccoon, in his >late teens, and wearing clothes they'd only previously seen >on a certain human, stood before them, grinning like a >maniac. TOM: When'd Tom Bodett become a raccoon? > He stepped back, and gave a deep bow to Sally. CROW: Sally instinctively picked him up by the scruff of his neck and carried him back into the tree. >"Hello, Princess. I, Christopher Jonathan Petrucci, wish to >thank you on behalf of Keith Aksland, who, he said, had >stayed with you for a brief period." JOEL: "Aw, it was nothing. Who's Keith?" > He looked at Rebecca. >"You like?" he said, turning this way and that. Rebecca >nodded, smiling through tears. "I like. Oh, do I ever >like!" With that, she dashed into his arms. CROW: "My four and a half hours of estrus next year are going to be extra-special!" JOEL: Behave yourself. > > Sally was still speechless. The voice, and the >attitude... it had to be him! JOEL: [ Pointing to TOM ] It couldn't be you; [ Pointing to CROW ] It couldn't be you; [ Pointing to KEITH ] It had to be him! > "Keith, is that you?!" The >coon shook his head. "I told you, Sally, Keith is dead. >Well, kind of. TOM: Well, okay, he's alive and living in Portland, Maine. There, I said it and I'm glad. > Anyway, can we get back home, please? I'm >tired, and looking for a real bed to sleep in. JOEL: At least a knot in a tree, or a limestone cavern. > He trotted >back in the general direction of Rebecca's hut, still >humming bars from the odd song he'd just finished singing. CROW: Oh, great, he's a Neil Diamond fan. > >* * * * * > > That night, Chris and Rebecca were sitting on the same >rock by Starlight Pond, side by side, gazing at the crystal >waters. TOM: Talk about hard water. > Chris was the first to break the silence. "I'm >sorry I scared you all like that. Especially you, Becky." CROW: Aw, we didn't think about you at all, silly. > > "Just what were you doing in your room, anyway? What >was up with all that singing?" Keith sighed. TOM: Again, he's at the age where that sort of thing will happen. > "Have you >ever felt something really deeply, but had no way to put it >into words?" Rebecca nodded. "Well, that's what the songs >were for. JOEL: He couldn't think of words, so he composed a whole bunch of words and made them match up in meter and rhyme with songs. > I had to get my pain out into the open, and, >well, I guess I just lost myself. It really helped me deal >with my problems, though, so it wasn't all bad." CROW: He understands the quadratic formula now. > They were >silent for some time, and suddenly Rebecca hugged him tight. >"Just promise you'll never leave me." JOEL: This story is just dozens of epilogues leaning against each other. > Chris hugged her >back, just as tightly. "I promise. I'll never leave your >side until the end of time." Rebecca looked into his eyes. TOM: Ding ding ding ding ding! We *have* deadmeat! >"I love you, Chris. More than anything else on Mobius, I >love you." JOEL: "Course, I hate Mobius." > > "And I love you, Rebecca. Thank you for showing me >what love truly is." CROW: In the scenes we didn't get to see. > They spent the rest of the night that >way, locked in a loving embrace, gazing at the twin moons of >Mobius. TOM: You know, it looks like there's two moons, but actually it's just the 'inside' and 'outside' of the same moon. > >* * * * * > > The people of Knothole found it much easier to accept >Keith (sorry, Chris :) CROW: Sorry, Pete. JOEL: Sorry, Ed. TOM: Sorry, Stu. CROW: Sorry, Alan. TOM: Sorry, Gene. JOEL: Sorry, Wally. > now that he didn't constantly remind >them of how much humans had done to them. In fact, they >started to like him. TOM: Well, they liked his collection of Milk-Bones, anyway. > He had become a thorn in Robotnik's >ample side more times then he could count. CROW: Four times? > But the real >test of his mettle came during the funeral. > > He had placed everything he had owned in his former >life in a small box, JOEL: Yeah, what does he need with underwear anyway? > wrapped it in the shirt he had worn, >and carried it to the chosen gravesite. It was right next >to Queen Acorn's grave. ALL: [ Snicker ] CROW: So, like, would Queen Acorn's royal theater company be a group of 'Acornion Players'? > "Now you've got someone to talk to, >Mother," Sally said, tears in her eyes, as she laid the box >down. TOM: A dull person who isn't really dead, but still someone. > Into the scene walked Chris, wrapped in a voluminous >black cloak. As he unfolded his hands from beneath it, all >could see TOM: He was flashing them. > the bakhat he had around his waist, the Mobian >sign for mourning. He looked around. > > "I know it's your custom to sing a Mobian ballad at >your funerals, CROW: They tried singing Hopi Indian ballads, but somehow that never caught on at the planet Mobius. > but none seemed right, none could tell this >boy's story so well as these next two songs can. JOEL: The haunting theme from "One Day at a Time," followed by a Diet Coke jingle from 1986. > One is a >look into his heart, the next are his last words." TOM: Ah-hem. "Nah, if the cliff wasn't stable they would put up a siiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII...." > He >looked down at his computer. "Sasha, please play 'Lifting >Shadows off a Dream,' minus the vocals." > > The bass line came first, the sound of water dripping >into a small pool. JOEL: Oh, great, now the whole village is going to feel like going to the bathroom. > A few notes plucked out on a guitar told >of a wind blowing across the scene, and the synthesizer >wrapped the whole thing together with a beauty that brought >tears to the eyes of the hardiest souls. CROW: Aw, lookie, Ted Koppel is sobbing. > After a few >measures, Chris closed his eyes and began to sing. > >He seems alone and tired, JOEL: But he has a rich private life. >Thoughts remain without an answer. >Afraid and uninvited, >He slowly drifts away. TOM: You're sure you dropped anchor, right? CROW: Positive! >Moved by desire and fear, >Breaking delicate wings. JOEL: [ As a mother ] Are you kids breaking delicate wings down there? CROW, TOM: No, Mom! > >Lifting shadows >Off a dream once broken, >She can turn a drop of water >Into an ocean CROW: She just will not let stuff drop. Always builds it into bigger and bigger stuff. > > The music continued, slow and sorrowful, but then it >hardened and became the sounds of unbearable heartbreak. CROW: Crack! JOEL: [ As a mother ] Now are you kids breaking unbearable hearts? CROW, TOM: No, Mom! > >As the rain is pouring down, >Tears of sorrow wash his mind. >Drifting with the current, >The stream of life flows on. TOM: Daylight come an' me wan' go home. >He seems alone and tired, >Waiting on his hands and knees, >The chill of winter's darkness, >Sits quietly. CROW: In a land called Honalee! > >Moved by desire and fear, >He takes a few steps away. > >Lifting shadows off a dream >Once broken. JOEL: [ As a mother ] Now are you two breaking shadows again? CROW, TOM: No, Mom! No! JOEL: We just can't have good dream here, can we? >She can turn a drop of water >Into an ocean. JOEL: She can turn meat loaf and vegetables into a startlingly good casserole. >And she listens openly > > Now the music, though still a bit heavy, told of >comfort, solace. The music seemed to carry Chris' mind to >the farthest corners of his imagination, where he actually >experienced it as if the music was a living, breathing >thing. JOEL: Meanwhile, Bookshire gets the syringe ready again. > >He pours his soul into the water, >Reflecting the mystery. >She carries him away, TOM: She has to do everything. He is *so* lazy. >And the winds die slowly. > >Lifting shadows off a dream once broken, >She can turn a drop of water >Into an ocean. TOM: Yet even she cannot tell a cabbage from a lettuce. > > He suddenly reared his head back, singing at the top of >his voice. > >Lifting shadows off a dream, >Lifting shadows off a dream. JOEL: [ As Sally ] Nudge the human, he's stuck again. > > He lowered his head again, and let the music swirl to a >halt. When it was done, he looked up, and saw that most of >the attendees were crying, or ready to. TOM: Please, stop! CROW: Sob! We're music lovers here! > "Now, for the >goodbye note. CROW: Goodbye........... JOEL: Goodbye....... TOM: Goodbye... ALL: Goodbye! > You'll have to ask Antoine for a translation >of the chorus. It's called 'A Tout le Monde.' Sasha?" TOM: It means "A toot of the mound." > >Don't remember where I was, >I realized life was a game. >The more seriously I took things, >The harder the rules became. JOEL: Yeah, "Civilization II" is a challenge. >I had no idea what it cost, >My life passed before my eyes. CROW: And it turns out I spent my life thinking about video games. >I found out how little I accomplished, >All my plans denied. > > Suddenly, the mood went from a slow requiem to a hard, >throbbing, pulse-metal sound. Chris' face twisted in >uncontrolled pain and rage. TOM: Shouldn't have turned the volume up past seven. > >So as you read this, know, my friends, >I'd love to stay with you all, JOEL: But I've got to be in Utica by eight p.m. tonight. >Smile when you think of me, >My body's gone, that's all. CROW: And what do you need a body for, really? > >A tout le monde, >A tout les amis, TOM: The new Visit Quebec advertisements are chugging along nicely. >Je vous aime, >Je dois partir. CROW: Tish! JOEL: Gomez! > >These are the last words I'll ever speak. >And they'll set me free. TOM: So is the story over? > >If my heart were still alive, >I know it would surely break. >And the memories left with you, >There's nothing more to say. JOEL: So, uh, goodnight. >Moving on, is a simple thing. >What it leaves behind is hard. CROW: This little greasy residue in the sink. It's gross. >You kow the sleeping feel no more pain, >And the living, are scarred. > >A tout le monde, JOEL: D'Avignon! L'on y danse, L'on y danse. >A tout les amis, >Je vous aime, >Je dois partir. > >These are the last words I'll ever speak, TOM: Again. >And they'll set me free. > > The next line of chords, though still grating, were set >in a way that gave some small amount of comfort to the >heartbroken masses. Then, it spiraled down into the requiem >it began as, and died out. CROW: Uhm...Chris, I'm sorry, the microphone wasn't on, could you do that again? > > Tears were streaming from his eyes as Chris walked over >to the grave, JOEL: See, Bugs has tricked Elmer Fudd into climbing down in there. > threw his handful of dirt on, and walked into >the hut. CROW: Bonk! > > Rotor went over to Antoine, who had tears in his eyes. TOM: And eyes in his tears, strangely enough. >"What was that part in the chorus, Ant?" > > Antoine, turned and stared at his walrus friend. JOEL: Hey, you know the eggman? > "Zat, >my friend, is zee saddest sing I have evair heard. CROW: [ Snicker ] JOEL: [ Giggles ] Some writers just shouldn't try dialects. TOM: [ As Antoine ] "Of course I'm violently allergic to music." > He said, >'To evaireebody, to all my friends, I love you, I have to >leave.'" Antoine suddenly broke down crying. CROW: Massive wimp theater. > > "Man, Sal, I've never seen anyone so broken up over a >funeral before. TOM: But then I have no emotional life of my own. > Not even you were that bad when..." Sonic >trailed off as the emotions became too much for even him to >bear. CROW: Emote emote emote emote emote. JOEL: Stop, it's too much to bear. > Sally put a hand on his shoulder. "I can understand, >Sonic. I mean, my mother was dear to me, TOM: In both of the conversations we ever had. > and I miss her >very much. But what do you think it feels like to attend >your own funeral?" CROW: That'd be kind of cool, actually. > >Chapter 7: The Power of Love TOM: He's only got a 30 Watt love. > > When the ten days of mourning were over, CROW: That's eight days more than 'Keith' spent with them. > Chris and >Rebecca planned a little picnic, just the two of them. TOM: Plus their intestinal parasites. >They'd gathered a few things together, and walked out into >the forest, looking for a suitable spot. JOEL: Okay, you distract the Boy Scouts and I'll grab their backpacks. > During their walk, >they were chatting about a lot of things. TOM: "Well, my tastes are kind of eclectic." CROW: "Hey, cool, I collect stuff too." > > "So, Chris, just what is your definition of love?" JOEL: They went into the forest for marriage counseling? > > Rebecca could tell by the way he stammered and thought >that he hadn't really been able to think about it. TOM: Even though he had devoted large sectors of his super-brain to the puzzle. CROW: Hah! Another one! TOM: Stop that! > "Ummmm, >well, I guess my definition of love is... [ bleep ], I had it >just a second ago... uhhh... JOEL: Twelve! CROW: Abraham Lincoln! TOM: "Tess Of The D'Ubervilles!" > Geez, Becky, why're you asking >me this? Okay, I guess that when I'm in love, I'm happy >just being near a person, sharing my life with them. CROW: [ Leaning against JOEL ] Ah, love. JOEL: [ Putting his arm around CROW ] Yeah. > For >me, there is no greater happiness than being able to open >your heart to someone." TOM: [ Leaning against JOEL ] This is so sweet. JOEL: [ Putting his arm around TOM ] It is, it is. > > "And is this what you feel for me?" Rebecca took his >hand in hers. CROW: Actually, I just want to learn that trick where you catch fish without even looking in the water. > > Chris looked into her eyes, and smiled. "All that and >more, my dear. ALL: [ Sigh contentedly ] > You have no idea how much simply being >around you affects me." TOM: You almost make me forget my exile to this refugee from the Saturday Supercade. > She kissed him quickly. CROW: Joel, kiss me. JOEL: No. TOM: Or me? JOEL: Not you either. [ CROW, TOM pull away ] CROW: Well, you're a wet blanket. TOM: Yeah. And your breath stinks. JOEL: Sor-ry. > "Glad to >hear it. This looks like a good spot." They laid out the >blanket, set out the food, and began to eat. JOEL: Mmm, pass the termites, please? CROW: Not 'till you give me the black ants. TOM: Hey, I've been gnawing on tree bark for ten minutes here! > They were >still chatting about things when Chris heard a sound off in >the distance. CROW: Okay, be quiet and maybe the subplot won't notice us. > It sounded like a brach snapping. TOM: Brach goes wild, attackes Space Ghost and Zorak, then stops suddenly when they threaten to noogie him. > Straining >harder, he could hear the thump of metallic feet. Rebecca >noticed his sudden distraction. JOEL: With sharp senses like that, you have to wonder why Rebecca wasn't in the elite core of the Freedom Fighters. > "Chris? What's..." She >was silenced by a finger on her lips. TOM: Aw, they're just adorable when they're being ambushed. > "I think I heard >SWATbots," he hissed into her ear, "I'm'a go check it out." CROW: He's speaking Hawaiian now? >He'd started to get up, when a hand clasped his arm. "Not >without me, you're not." He nodded. "Fine. Let's go." JOEL: This way they have a much better chance of both being captured and executed. > > They'd crept through the underbrush for a while now, >trying to see just what was going on. TOM: Admit it! We're lost! CROW: We are not! We just have to get back on the Interstate. > Chris parted a bush, >and saw. A SWAT patrol was marching through the forest, >looking for Knothole. TOM: Oooh... CROW: Aaaah... JOEL: Shinies! > Problem was, they were just about to >find it. They couldn't have been more than 50 meters from >the village. CROW: Fortunately, they were all so drunk they couldn't find their hands. > "How many?" Rebecca looked nervous. Chris >scratched "20" in the dirt with his tail. JOEL: And if the Mobians used Arabic numerals, that would answer her question. > They moved back >to get their bearings. "Chris, what are we going to do?" > > "I don't know, Becky. I can contact Nicole, and have >her tell Sally what's going on. P'raps Sonic'll get here in >time." TOM: See, he's the fastest thing alive, but only for the first 49 meters. > > "And if not?" Chris looked back at his love. CROW: Then we'd have to do something. > "Pray >that he does. Meantime, we'll have to try to distract them >before they stumble onto Knothole." > > "Like what?" "Dunno. But we don't have time to >discuss it." JOEL: Planning a guerilla action just slows you down. > It would have been nice if they'd paid more >attention to where they were, 'cause they found themselves >faces-to-face with the business end of a stun blaster. CROW: Oh oh oh ooh, pootertoots. >Chris and 'Becca both let out a small, surprised "eep" >before they were hauled to their feet, and off them. The >SWAT droned its find to HQ. TOM: "The Freedom Fighters have mixed Dr. Pepper and Mountain Dew in one new beverage." > "SWAT PATROL GAMMA-OMEGA-7 HAS >CAPTURED TWO UNIDENTIFIED FREEDOM FIGHTERS. REQUEST ORDERS." JOEL: "Bring them to a critically important place and leave them unguarded until the end of the chapter." >A high-pitched, nasal voice whined, "Take two of your patrol >and have them brought back to me. The rest of you, continue >your mission." CROW: But their mission to nudge the plot in some random direction *is* done. > "CONFIRMED." As they were shoved onto the >transport, JOEL: Hiya, Threepio! TOM: Hello, Chris. JOEL: Heya, Artoo! CROW: Bwee-urp! > Chris secretly flipped on the mental >communication node, and ordered Sasha to contact NICOLE and >tell Sally what had transpired. TOM: Following this brief mental contact he was shocked to find himself lusting for the Gemini-Titan launch vehicle. > >* * * * * > > Sally was just about to go on her walk when NICOLE >beeped. JOEL: You've got mail! > "Message, Sally." She pressed a button, and heard >Sasha's voice. "SALLY, CHRIS AND REBECCA HAVE BEEN CAPTURED >AND TAKEN TO ROBOTROPOLIS. TOM: [ As Sally ] YES! > DON'T WORRY ABOUT THEM FOR NOW, >AS YOU SEEM TO HAVE AN ENTIRE PATROL ABOUT 5KM AWAY FROM >KNOTHOLE. THIS SITUATION SHOULD BE DEALT WITH FIRST. CROW: So, they're not that near, and they're going away, and this is a priority? > SASHA >OUT." Sally gasped as she realized the implications of what >Sasha had said. TOM: We got rid of both of them! Yay! JOEL: Don't be mean. > "Sonic, get everyone out of here, now. >Take them to the shelter in the Great Jungle. CROW: Yeah, that'll keep them safe indefinitely. > We have a >serious problem." > >* * * * * > > "So, now, what do we have here?" Chris and Rebecca >were locked in a cell in Robotropolis, and Snively was >pacing outside, leering. JOEL: Careful, Snively, you've captured the protagonist-slash- author. > "Mind telling me who you two are, >hmmm?" > > Chris gave Snively TOM: An affectionate noogie. > an evil smile that could have >matched Robotnik. "Come here, and I'll tell you." Snively >bent forward. JOEL: You know, I'd say the writer was making the villains particularly dumb, but this isn't out of character for Snively, is it? > Chris hissed in his ear. "If you enjoy the >feeling of a beating heart, TOM: Beating hearts are the hot trend this spring. > don't move until I am a bad >memory." Snively practically screamed as he remembered >where he had last heard that voice. "YOU!!! You're the >human!" CROW: You'd think his height and the large computer growing out of his arm would have been clues. > He dashed off down the hall, calling for Robotnik. JOEL: Mommy! CROW: Mommy mommy mommy! TOM: Waaaah! > >* * * * * > > "Well, now, it seems you gave my assistant quite a >scare. CROW: Of course, the villains on "My Little Pony" give him a bigger scare. > So, you are the mysterious human who dared to aid >the Freedom Fighters." > > "Sorry, fat-[ bleep ], you got me pegged wrong. The human >died in the Forest a couple months ago. Real nasty, too. TOM: He started chewing on a power line and... >I'm just the part of him who still has business on this >planet." > > Robotnik leaned back in his chair, steepling his >fingers and putting them against his chins. "So you say." JOEL: He would, wouldn't he? >He gestured towards Sasha. "That's a pretty piece of >hardware, boy. Mind telling me where you got that?" CROW: The Tamagotchi fad extends to parallel universes. > > "Matter of fact, I do mind. In fact, now that I think >about it, I don't like this place much. I KNOW I'm tired of >looking at you and trying to figure out just how many chins >you have. JOEL: Aw, why don't you two stop teasing and kiss already? > Y'r needle-nosed buddy over there's not very >scintillating conversation, either." He stuffed his hands >in his pockets. CROW: Now who wants a tic-tac? > "Now, chummer, way I see it, you got two >options. One, you let Rebecca and I go, and we walk back to >Knothole, without you following us." TOM: Two, we form a lacrosse team. > > "Now, you know I can't do that. So, what's the other >option?" JOEL: For an agent of pure evil he's certainly being considerate about all this. > > "I detonate this." Sasha flashes a data display on >hologram. CROW: That clears everything up. > "This is my own little piece of programming, >something that I set into your computer when I first got >here. TOM: It's called "Spaceward Ho!" and it's really cool. > I call it a Data Nuke. Ever throw a stick of >dynamite into a pool of water when you were a kid?" He saw >by Robotnik's sudden pale complexion that he had. JOEL: Just 'cause he's evil doesn't mean he's not bashful. > "That's >what'll happen to alla files in your Roboticizer. CROW: They'll be attacked by a metaphor. > Oh, and >it's called a nuke 'cause it'll spread worm viruses through >your computer like it was the common cold. Now, what's your >say?" TOM: Doesn't that make it more of a Data Sneeze, then? > > "I say you're bluffing. You didn't add anything into >my core. No one can type that fast." JOEL: Robotnik's clearly never seen people on a MUD. > > "Who says I typed? Thanks to my little bud here, I can >jack directly into your net. CROW: Is this supposed to be tied to the "Death Egg" again? > Gloomy place, too, I might >add. TOM: I spruced up some of the web page backgrounds, but *still*... > Anyway, I could set it off if you'd like to prove I'm >not lying. CROW: Thereby destroying any reason Robotnik might have to not shoot Chris. > Oh, yeah and don't delete it, 'cause if it >detects any attempt to screw with it's code, it'll go off. JOEL: It's really touchy. >Now, can I go?" > > "I see you've given me no choice. TOM: Seeing as how you never outlined a second course of action for me. > You two may go. CROW: But I'm not validating your parking. So there! >But, be warned, this is the last time I'll ever let you off >this easily." Ivo was turning an interesting shade of >purple. JOEL: Another strange interlude... > > Chris smirked. "Who says I will, too? You've just >used up your credit, mi amigo. TOM: Chris, honey, don't push. You're just going to make trouble when you're almost out of this story. > Next time I see you, you'll >be begging to be put into Sally's hands, 'cause I ain't >gonna be as forgiving as they will. Ta!" JOEL: Let's do lunch sometime. Have your computer call my computer. > > As he walked down to the prison compound to collect >Rebecca, he felt a faint twinge in the back of his mind. CROW: Des? That you? > It >wasn't much, but it was enough to tell that something was >not right. TOM: He was used to these sudden flashes of insight, since he was the author. > He dashed to their cell as fast as he could. >When he got there, all he could do was stare. JOEL: They redecorated! > There was >Rebecca, lying on the floor, bruised, beaten, bloody, but, >mercifully, unconscious. CROW: She *had* to try to cross the highway and look what happened. > He screamed. "NOOOOOOOO!!!! WHAT >DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU BASTARD?!?!" He knelt, and picked >her body up. TOM: "Oh, hi, Chris, hey, I found this neat makeup kit to fake all sorts of injuries, want to play too?" > Slamming down the intercom button, he growled. >"I'm leaving now, but, so help me, you will pay for this. JOEL: Normally Worker's Comp would pick up the cost but they were technically off-duty when they got captured. >You will pay dearly. I promise this with all my heart and >soul." CROW: My acorn will crush yours! > He turned, and ran out of Robotropolis. > > He was met halfway by Sonic and Sally. TOM: These two are really effective heroes, aren't they? > They saw who he >had in his arms, looked at his face, and guessed the rest. >He was crying his eyes out. "G-g-et her back, quick. JOEL: She's not complete without her huck. >Sh-sh-she needs help... h-hu-hurry, please." Sonic >took Rebecca in his arms, CROW: Gave her some aluminum foil to cheer her up... > and dashed out of sight, with >everyone else in tow. TOM: So, they were in sight, still. > >* * * * * > > "Well, Chris, she's been beaten pretty badly. CROW: Thanks for the bulletin, Hawkeye. > She's >weak from loss of blood, and has sustained a major >concussion. But I think she'll live. JOEL: But keep in mind my specialty is light carpentry, not traumatic injuries. > Still, we'll just >have to trust to time to take care of that." TOM: Since we never discovered medicine on this planet. > Bookshire laid >a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I think you need some >rest. Go on back home, and let me handle this. CROW: I have ages of experience in licking wounds. > > Chris pulled back. "No. I told her I'd never leave >her side, and I mean to keep that promise. TOM: Uhm...except for bathroom breaks. > I'll watch over >her until she gets better. She will recover, Doc. She has >to. JOEL: She's a major character. > She's got too much life to..." He broke down and began >to cry. "Hold on, Becky, please hold on." CROW: "We promised someday we were going to have a conversation where you said more than three sentences." > He pulled up a >chair, and began his vigil, tears still streaming from his >eyes. JOEL: Come on down to Hospice 6; and we'll leave the lights on for you. > >* * * * * > > A week had passed. TOM: Yeah, story felt about that long. > Rebecca still showed no signs of >progress. Chris, as he promised, didn't leave her side fro >the entire week. CROW: Leaving unattended his critical duties like...uh... > In fact, he was beginning to look >something like the haggard horror Sally had talked to before >his transformation. But he didn't care. JOEL: He was a rebel without the paws. > All that mattered >was her. He'd talk to her sometimes, telling her stories >from his world. TOM: "There was the time I had this weird dream-conversation and ended up in the Pac-Man cartoon...and the time I ended up in the Q*Bert cartoon...and the time I ended up in Bucky O'Hare..." > Other times, he'd sing to her. One song in >particular lingered in Bookshire's mind. CROW: Tragically, it was "MacArthur Park." > Chris'd called it >"My Little Man." JOEL: Another musical number? TOM: Great, it's become "West Mobius Story." > >Don't you know I love you more than life itself, JOEL: Or even life with chocolate sauce on top. >Don't you know that you're my pride, >And I would not have you walking through thits earth, >Without me by your side, TOM: But they're not on Earth. > >Go to sleep, my little man. >Don't you weep, my little man. CROW: Chris does know that Rebecca's a woman, right? JOEL: Yeah, he just liked the song is all. CROW: Oh. > >I'd like to keep you with me all your life, >But I know I can't do that. TOM: Not since you got that writ from the court. >So I must try teaching you the wrong from right, >To keep the vultures from your back. CROW: The secret is, have somebody else a lot worse off near you. > >Go to sleep, my little man, >Don't you weep, my little man. JOEL: Never peep, my little man. > >And when you're dreaming, >You can talk to angels, TOM: But make sure you ask mommy or daddy first before talking to strange angels. >So wipe the tears from your eyes. >And when there's demons, >Who try to steal your breath away, CROW: They can be real bummers. >You can't believe that, >Know my spirit will be standing by your side. JOEL: That is pretty unbelievable. > >You saved me, you gave me, >The greatest gift of all, TOM: Fifteen hundred dollars. >Believe me, believe me, CROW: I don't believe you. >There ain't no mountain that's too tall. > >I would gladly carry your cross for you, >To take your pain away. TOM: It's easier to "Nupe It," though. >But what I can't carry is my love for you >Beyond my dying day, JOEL: 'Cause, you know, I'd be dead and all. > >So be strong, my little man, CROW: Silly song, my little man. >When I'm gone, my little man. JOEL: Read this palm, my little man. >You got to be my little man. TOM: Summary, my little man. >Go to sleep, my little man. JOEL: Mail a jeep, my little man. >Don't you weep, my little man. TOM: Fundraise for CREEP, my little man. >You got to be my little man. CROW: Shaving cream, my little man. >So don't you weep, my little man. TOM: Soup of plomeek, my little man. > > Bookshire'd nearly cried when he heard that. >Reflecting later, he figured that the song was more for him, CROW: Since he believed he was the center of the universe anyway. >considering its content. Anyway, sometimes Bookshire had >him doing small chores for him, JOEL: But he couldn't get Chris to paint his house. > like changing her IV bag, >getting water, little things like that. TOM: You know. Medical stuff. > He thought it would >be good if Chris got off the chair every now and then. Poor >guy had only slept maybe four hours in the past week. JOEL: Indirect quotations can be a good way to move a story along. TOM: Yeah, but this is indirect narrative. > The >coffee cups piled around his chair were testimony to that >fact. Every now and then other villagers would come in and >visit, talking to Chris, TOM: Howl at the moon a little... > offering words of assurance, and in >general making sure he was all right. He would constantly CROW: Distract them by asking if they wanted to go for walkies. >reply that he was fine, it was her that needed to be prayed >for. JOEL: May the spirit of Chuck Jones watch over them. > Most of the villagers began to understand just how >much she meant to him. TOM: It was like the only reason she was in this story was to be his girlfriend. JOEL: Don't break the reality now. > > On the eighth day, Rebecca awoke. Well, not like that. CROW: Actually, she stayed asleep. >First she'd sucked in a gasping breath. Then her eyelids >fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was her >boyfriend, TOM: And later she saw Chris. > head buried in her chest, crying. "Wh-what's >wrong, Chris?" He raised his head ALL: AAAH! > and looked into her eyes. >"Nothing. I'm just so relieved... I thought you were gone >for good. CROW: Uh...I already moved all my stuff into your room... > I love you, Rebecca." Though it was a great >effort, she raised her arm and laid it on her head. "I love >you too, Chris. TOM: Hey, something or other was making this awful music-like noise all week; could you find out what it is and stop it? > Thank you for being there with me." He >sniffled. "I promised, didn't I? JOEL: Yeah, just in time to have to live up to that promise, too. > I always make good on my >promises." Bookshire came over. "Right now, Chris, I think >it's best if you went home and got some sleep. CROW: Now that there's some emotional payoff to the vigil. > You've been >awake for a week straight. She's fine now, TOM: All medical problems vanish when you just wake up again. > I can take it >from here. Go on, you need your sleep. You can come back >after you've rested." JOEL: When she's had the chance to slip back into unconsciousness. > > Chris nodded, and stood up. "I guess you're right." CROW: Way to keep that promise not to leave her side. >He looked at himself. "I think I need a shower, too. TOM: And the entire village thanks him. >Well," he knelt down and kissed Rebecca's forehead. "I'll >be back later, dear. Don't go anywhere, okay?" She smiled. >"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, honey. CROW: "Last month some nice fellows from the National Park Service put a radio-transmitter collar on me." > Go >on, you look like you were up for a week." Remembering what >Bookshire had said, she suddenly became serious. JOEL: Hey! You've been awake for 179 hours and 43 minutes! > "You were, >weren't you? You didn't leave my side for a week! Dear >Destiny, TOM: Won't you come out to play? > you really meant it! Out! Leave! Get some sleep! >I order you to sleep for two days straight!" > > Chris chuckled. CROW: Would you want me to use my super-brain to psychically heal your wounds for you? TOM: Hey! JOEL: Yeah, cookie to Tom. > "Allright, 'Becca, I'll go. Just >promise me you'll still be here when I'm up?" CROW: [ As Rebecca, sharply ] "I'm not planning to flee the moment your back is turned!" > > "I promise. Now, go!" He turned and headed out, still >chuckling. JOEL: It is funny, isn't it? TOM: What? JOEL: You know, the funny stuff. > Rebecca turned to Bookshire. "He really does >love me, doesn't he?" Bookshire's face grew wistful. CROW: The term is 'codependence.' > "More >than you may ever know, Rebecca. That boy would give his >life for you. I'm sure of it." JOEL: But what do I know? > >End. CROW: Yay! TOM: Woo-hoo! > >Well? What did you think? JOEL: Too many words. > Since it's my first attempt at a >fanfic, CROW: You don't say? > you can be sure that they'll get better. TOM: We can only hope so. > Trust me, >a lot of hair-pulling came about as a result of trying to >finish this story. JOEL: You too, huh? > Still, I think I rather did a good job. TOM: In a very restricted sense of the word 'good,' but... > >Questions? CROW: Why does "Sonic the Hedgehog" get all these fanfics? > Comments? Flames? Movie contracts? TOM: The tragic thing is it's too well written to become a movie these days. > Job >offers? CROW: We'll get back to you. > E-mail me at baks...@ix.netcom.com. > JOEL: [ Picking up TOM ] We'll keep that in mind. [ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ] [ INT SOL. CROW, JOEL, and TOM are baking cookies. There's an amazing mess of batter, flour, eggshells, and such all over the entire set. CROW is reading from a cookbook. ] CROW: Add two tbsps baking powder. TOM: Two tbsps? JOEL: Two tablespoons, right. [ Sprinkles it into the central bowl; starts stirring. ] CROW: No, two tbsps. JOEL: Guys... TOM: I've got the baking pans all greased up, Joel. JOEL: Ah, good. [ JOEL reaches under and pulls up the baking trays. JOEL starts dabbing spoonfuls of batter onto the trays. ] JOEL: So, do you two feel like you learned anything from this fanfic? TOM: Learned anything? CROW: What's to learn from *this*? JOEL: Well, how about that sometimes you have to give up your comfortable old home in order to do something meaningful with your life? CROW: Like Keith-slash-Chris did? JOEL: [ Continuing to place cookies ] Yeah. TOM: But all Keith gave up was certain, horrible death. CROW: And the only meaningful thing he did with his new life was get a girlfriend. JOEL: That's still pretty meaningful. Okay, how about learning, like Sally and the other Mobians did, about not accepting matters at face value, and withholding judgement until one learns the full truth of a situation? CROW: You mean the way they unquestioningly took Keith into their ranks, and later repeated it when he became Chris, without even a cursory questioning to determine if he presented any sort of security risk, as if they knew he was the protagonist? JOEL: All right, guys. Maybe what you should really draw from the story isn't something directly shown in the text, but rather in the questions raised by the storyline. CROW: Like what? JOEL: Well... [ JOEL takes the baking trays and places them underneath the desk, as though putting them in the oven. ] JOEL: How much trust can you extend to a person, and how does a stranger earn your trust? CROW: Ooh. Or you could ask what that Death Egg thing had to do with the story. TOM: Or, you could ask, Sonic the Hedgehog: Why? Why? Why why WHY Sonic the Hedgehog already? CROW: Hey, if the Internet had gotten big a decade earlier they might have been inflicting "Pound Puppies" fanfics on us. JOEL: [ Shakes his head, reaches under to pull out trays of baked cookies. ] You two are incorrigible. CROW: So stop incorriging us. JOEL: [ Eating one of the cookies. ] What do you think, sirs? [ D13. DR. FORRESTER and TV's FRANK are sitting; TV's FRANK still in the cardboard car and covered with red paint; but they are trying to scrub him clean. Little progress has been made. ] DR.F: You know something, Frank? FRANK: What's that, Clayton? DR.F: They've got to be feeling pretty darned smug up there. FRANK: Because you didn't manage to crush their souls with another "Sonic the Hedgehog" fanfic? DR.F: Grrr...anyway, yes, that's the problem. FRANK: Oh, I'm sure you have a plan. DR.F: That I do, yes. You see, they can feel proud for having passed through this one... FRANK: But you've got more lined up? DR.F: More lined up than you can even imagine, Frank. More stories from this same author... FRANK: Wow. DR.F: More and more fans writing their very first fanfic every day... FRANK: Oh, that can be painful. DR.F: Yes...we've gone easy on them so far. FRANK: I can imagine, yes. DR.F: So we're going to let them be lulled into a sense of security now. FRANK: You can destroy them later, certainly. DR.F: Precisely, Frank. Would you press the button, please? FRANK: Glad to. [ TV'S FRANK stands up; hits DR. FORRESTER with the front of his cardboard car. ] DR.F: Oouch! FRANK: [ Oblivious ] Where was that button? [ TV'S FRANK turns around; hits DR. FORRESTER again. ] DR.F: Aagh! [ TV'S FRANK turns around again; hits DR. FORRESTER again. ] DR.F: Ooorg! FRANK: There it is. DR.F: FRANK! FRANK: Oops... [ TV'S FRANK pushes the button. ] \ | / \ | / \|/ ---o--- [ * Pwooom * ] /|\ / | \ / | \ Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and Copyright 1997 Best Brains, Inc. "Sonic the Hedgehog" and "Sonic the Hedgehog" characters are trademarks of and Copyright Sega, Archie Comics, and DIC. All rights reserved. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc, Sega, Archie Comics, or DIC is intended or should be inferred. Remaining characters are Copyright their creators; and the original story as a whole is Copyright Keith Aksland. This MiSTing is intended solely for personal entertainment and is not meant to be an insult to the creators or fans of the Sonic the Hedgehog products, and certainly not to Keith Aksland, who knew what he was getting into when he mentioned he had some Sonic fanfics too. The "Eclectic/Cool, I collect stuff too" joke was originally written by Ginger V. Tuttle for The Rutgers Review, Rutgers University, New Brunswick, New Jersey. > It was a detailed set of blueprints >for something called a Death Egg.