From: pmi...@asid.org Subject: MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (1/4) Date: 1998/04/03 Message-ID: <6g2r8e$q0l$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> X-Deja-AN: 340507477 X-Http-User-Agent: Mozilla/2.0 (compatible; MSIE 3.02; Windows 95) Organization: Deja News - The Leader in Internet Discussion X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Apr 03 14:21:02 1998 GMT Newsgroups: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! [1/4] MiSTing by Peter Milan [Opening sequence...] [1...2...3...4...5...6...7...] [SOL. Mike is tied to a chair, his head hanging down. Crow and Tom walk around him.] CROW: So, Mr. "Nelson"...you seem to think that I and my associate are gullible...to be taken in, as it were. TOM: Crow, that's "_me_ and my associate." CROW: Sssshhhhh! Now, Nelson...what do you know about the Shadows' movements? [Mike looks up.] MIKE: Huh? Oh, sorry. I must have nodded off. HEY! What am I doing tied to this chair? TOM: You're being questioned, Nelson. You've been a very, very bad boy...and Rangers don't like bad boys. CROW: We didn't really like "The Rock" either. MIKE: ...the hell?! Oh, I get it, we're playing "Babylon 5" again. Okay, I can play along. [struggles against bonds] You...you fools! You'll never get any information out of me! CROW: We'll soon see about that, Nelson! TOM: Where is the Shadows' main wessel? Keptin, there's a wessel off za port bow... CROW: Oh, no, he's gone into Chekov mode! MIKE: All right, you'd better untie me...we'll be right back. [Commercials.] MIKE: Well, that seems to have taken care of you, Tom...how d'ya feel? TOM: Oh, just fine, Mike. It's too bad you canna change the laws of physics, laws of physics, laws of physics... MIKE: Needs more work. CROW: Hey, Mike, Steinman and Meat Loaf are calling. [Deep 13. DR. F and Frank are smiling; always a bad sign.] Dr. F: Hidaly-ho, slaverinos! I'm feeling good today. Howzabout you, Frank? FRANK: It's alarming how charming I feel. Dr. F: Me too... [SOL. The guys look worried.] MIKE: Uh...did you guys get in a truckload of Prozac or something? [Deep 13. More smiles.] Dr. F: Oh, no no no no no no no no no no. FRANK: Meaning "no". Dr. F: We _did_, however, get a whola lotta fanfic. FRANK: X-Files fanfic. Dr. F: X-Files fanfic by 'shippers. FRANK: X-Files fanfic by 'shippers with angst. DR. F: Lots of angst. FRANK: Lots and lots of angst. [The Mads look at each other and can't stand it anymore; they bust loose into a torrent of evil laughter. Eventually, they fall to the floor.] DR. F: [giggling] We've got...let's see...SEVEN, count 'em, SEVEN short fanfics for you today! "Night Run", "Mulder's Ice Cream Dream", "A Romeo & Juliette Tale..." [Frank cackles maniacally.] DR. F: [barely able to repress his mirth] "Sh...." Oh God... "Shots Rang Out"... [FRANK's laughter grows louder.] DR. F: Ssssshh! Don't spoil the surprise! Let's see..."The Gothic Dream", "Mulder's Prayer" and "A Swim In The Dark"! You might want to make sure your insurance is paid up, Nelson! Because these...these fanfics... [Dr. F collapses behind the counter again. After a few more moments of demented cackling, Frank's hand comes into sight and pushes the button...] [SOL. Panic.] ALL: AHHHHHH! WE GOT ANGST SIGN! [7...6...5...4...3...2...1...] CROW: I don't suppose Vince Gilligan wrote any of this... MIKE: Probably not. CROW: Darin Morgan? TOM: Uh-uh. CROW: [horrified pause] John Shiban?! MIKE & TOM: Mmmmmmaybe. > >I did not write this. TOM: Oh, ya did too, ya big fake! > I am forwarding this to xff on behalf of the >author with their permission. This work was originally run on >the EMXC mailing list and all feedback and comments should >be directed to the author at: wagn...@mindspring.com MIKE: Oh, it's Wagner! There may be singing... > >SciNut(O'tay!) >host EMXC CROW: Hi there, I'm SciNut, your swingin' EMXC host. Martini? Cigar? Flintstones vitamins? It's all at your disposal... > >To join the EMXC mailing list send an email to EM...@aol.com. TOM: Or just wish real hard. > >============================================== >---------------------------------------------------------------- >This story is being posted by Lee Ann Wagner for her husband Steven. >Forward to XFF, ATXC, and Gossamer. CROW: A husband and wife team. What's that smell? TOM: Our doom. MIKE: Calm down... > >---------------------------------------------------------------- >Night Run >Steven M. Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com TOM: Oh, cool! I love this one! DeNiro and Charles Grodin... MIKE: Wrong. > >Date Finished: 18 August 1997 > >Summary: Mulder's thoughs while running. MIKE: Did he misspell "thoughts" or "thighs"? CROW: Mike, can I just say...yikes. MIKE: Sorry. > >DISCLAIMER: This is a fiction story based on the characters >created by Chris Carter. TOM: As opposed to the documentary you see every Sunday at 9. CROW: Hosted by Robert Urich! > No infringement of copyrights held by >10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox >Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognized characters and plot- >lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely >within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection >to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance >is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please >keep me as the author. MIKE: Well, let's keep him on. He does have a wife to support. > >AUTHOR'S NOTE: > >This is a successor story to 'Scully's Surprise' and takes place >the following morning. TOM: Uh...okay. So what's Scully's Surprise? CROW: It's Scully, roasted in a white wine sauce and stuffed with cloves. MIKE: Crow, that's maybe the most horrible thing I've ever heard you say! CROW: Stay tuned. > >---------------------------------------------------------------- >Night Run >Steven M. Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com > > >It's dark. > >A hot, Washington summer night. TOM: And it's stormy. Suddenly a shot rings out. > >And I'm running. Running, balls to the wall, full out, running >my damn butt off. Running for myself. MIKE: [sings] Runnin' into the sun, but I'm runnin' behind... >I'm wearing nothing but the necessities, jock, trunks, teeshirt, >shoes, socks, apartment key, 10mm auto, FBI ID, and health plan >card. Just what I need running. CROW: You forgot whips, chains, dildos and a book. >It's raining out. Not enough rain that its cool and comfortable. TOM: Oh my God, it _is_ a dark and stormy night! MIKE: Is Snoopy writing this? >Not enough to make the street lights and neon pretty images in >puddles. Not enough to make it dangerous to run. CROW: Not enough to mend my poor broken heart... > God, how >dangerous can it be, I ask. What could somebody do to me? Kill >Me? With mindwipes, abductions, time loss, killing me would be >nothing. Shit, my partner has pumped a bullet into me. TOM: I AM IMMORTAL! I WILL RAIN DEATH UPON YOU ALL! CROW: TASTE MY WRATH! >As I round a corner, I pass a man walking his dogs, I've seen >him before. He doesn't bother me, I don't bother him. He's just >a dark body in the rainy night. MIKE: So I pump two bullets into him. Hell, who'll miss him? >I run at night for myself. Not for my father and mother, whom >I've failed. Not for my sister, whom I've lost. Not for my >partner, my friend. TOM: Not for my next-door neighbor who lent me her paper. MIKE: Not for my superintendent who unclogged my sink. CROW: Not for my mailman who brings me my porn! > It isn't that I've deserted her, I'll check >my answering machine when I return home, call her then if she's >left a message. CROW: Then maybe grab a sandwich, a few chips, crack open a brewski and then...it's time for a little Spice channel! > I just need this time for myself. To hear the >sound of my feet hitting the pavement, to hear the sounds of the >insects of the night. MIKE: To think like the hu-man! To be like the hu-man! > To put the world away from me. To perhaps >have a few minutes where the world is not a scary place, where >it's just me and the pavement and the night. TOM: And that gang of young toughs who've been chasing me for the past mile. >end. CROW: ...Huh. TOM: Terse. Concise. MIKE: And utterly meaningless. Is it time to go? TOM: No...there's something else coming in... >I did not write this. I am forwarding this to xff on behalf of the >author with their permission. This work was originally run on >the EMXC mailing list and all feedback and comments should >be directed to the author at: wagn...@mindspring.com CROW: Oh, him again. >SciNut(O'tay!) >host EMXC TOM: SciNut say: Fanfic O-TAY! MIKE: SciNut wrong! >To join the EMXC mailing list send an email to EM...@aol.com. MIKE: Or don't. What do I care. Hey, SCREW YOU! TOM: Mike...it's okay, Mike... >============================================== >Please forward to XFF, ATXC, and Gossamer. > >--------------------------------------------------------------- >Mulder's Ice Cream Dream >Steven M. Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com CROW: Huh. Anybody just get a cold feeling of dread, like there was some horrible insect crawling over your naked body while you sleep? TOM: "Slept." CROW: Whatever. > >Date Finished: 5 Feb 1997 > >Summary: Mulder goes on a picnic with an old flame. TOM: Mike, I think he's right. I just had an icy finger of despair worm its way into my soul and start tickling the back of my throat! MIKE: Uh...sorry. > >DISCLAIMER: This is a fiction story based on the characters >created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by >10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox >Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognized characters and plot- >lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely >within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection >to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance >is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please >keep me as the author. MIKE: This offer available in 49 states. Sorry, Tennessee! > > >---------------------------------------------------------------- >Mulder's Ice Cream Dream >Steven M. Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com CROW: Just in case you forgot, this is...Mulder's Ice Cream Dream. > >"Thank you for inviting me," Mulder told the dark-haired beauty. MIKE: Roma Downey? TOM: Elizabeth Hurley? CROW: Xena? >They were sitting, no lounging on a Black Watch plaid blanket >overlooking the moors of Scotland. [Crow and Mike turn and look at Tom, who sighs.] TOM: [unenthusiastically, yet still Scottish] Stay off the moors, stay off the moors. > Around the two was the >debris of a picnic meal; an empty bottle of claret, the picked >bones of a capon, the waxed paper bag that had once held the >pride of an Edinburgh bakery. Mulder was feeling at peace with >the world. CROW: He was feelin' no pain! ALL: Wooooooo! > >"You are more then welcome," she told him, her low husky voice >meant for his ears alone. [MIKE barks like a dog.] TOM: Down, boy! Sit! > "Some dessert," she invited, smiling >suggestively. TOM: Oh, no thanks. Tea's trying to keep me slim. > >Mulder's eyes raked up and down the woman's curves, hidden from >him by a tailored blue silk blouse and trim black leather skirt. CROW: Wow! Gotta love those French babes! MIKE: ...But she's English. CROW: Yeah, I know, but you gotta love those French babes! >His look in his eyes told of something a little beyond the >apparent humor one saw there. TOM: What, was she wearing Groucho glasses? > >"In the cooler silly," she chided. MIKE: As opposed to the cooler morose. > She rose up so that she was >kneeling CROW: ...Ah, never mind. It's not worth it. > in front of the green and white enameled box. Opening >it, she pulled out MIKE: ...a human heart! ALL: AHHHHH! > the Ben and Jerry's container. "I was able to >get your favorite, 'New York Chocolate Chunk Brownie'. And here >is some whipped Devonshire cream, and a bottle of 'Death by >Chocolate' sauce." TOM: Now, if you'll just sign here...yes, and here...so, should I put down Cancer Man as next of kin? > >Mulder's sense's were drawn to the tableau. Here was this >beautiful woman, getting ready to serve him a luscious dessert. CROW: And yet he's staring at some stupid tableau! Where are his priorities?! >His mouth watered. MIKE: Wow, look at all this ice cream! If only this chick wasn't here! > >They sat and enjoyed the creamy texture of the ice cream, the >richness of the chocolate sauce. CROW: And the horrible, scarring acne which soon followed. > Soon the quart was gone, their >appetites sated. Mulder leaned back and laid his head in the >Scotland Yard Inspector's lap. TOM: Why, Lestrade, I never knew... >"I'll be in the States next month at a conference. We can meet >there, and this time, you can cook," she said, stoking the hair >from his forehead. MIKE: AHHH! MY HEAD'S ON FIRE! >"Yes, we'll be there. Scully will understand. I can't wait to >see you there, Michelle." CROW: Uh...who? TOM: I think it's the woman from "Fire". > > The End > MIKE: Whatever. TOM: Time to go... [1...2...3...4...5...6...7...] [SOL. The guys stand around.] CROW: Okay, Mike, so lemme get this straight. Mulder goes jogging, then he eats a bunch of ice cream. MIKE: Pretty much. CROW: Well, gee, the raw suspense of it all! Where's the monsters and psychos and evil government conspiracies? This is supposed to be the X-Files, not a Jim Jarmusch film! TOM: Actually, I was riveted to my seat. MIKE: Uh...why? TOM: Well, think about it. Will Mulder finish all the ice cream? Will he get some on his tie? What will the dry cleaner charge? MIKE: Tom... TOM: And what about the jogging aspect? How much further will he have to jog the next night to get rid of all that ice cream? CROW: Hey, yeah! What if it all goes straight to his hips? MIKE: You guys... TOM: What if he becomes addicted to ice cream?! He could lose that sleek, girlish figure we've all come to know and love. MIKE: All right, all right, knock it off! I'm suffocating on sarcasm fumes here... CROW: And then there's this Michelle woman. Who the hell is she, anyway? [Lights. Anarchy.] ALL: AHHHHHH! WE GOT POST SIGN! [7...6...5...4...3...2...1...] [To be continued...] Peter Milan ti...@eyrie.org -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/ Now offering spam-free web-based newsreading From: pmi...@asid.org Subject: MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (2/4) Date: 1998/04/03 Message-ID: <6g2rkv$qck$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> X-Deja-AN: 340506952 X-Http-User-Agent: Mozilla/2.0 (compatible; MSIE 3.02; Windows 95) Organization: Deja News - The Leader in Internet Discussion X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Apr 03 14:27:43 1998 GMT Newsgroups: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (2/4) By Peter Milan This one's gonna hurt. >Date sent: Wed, 09 Jul 1997 21:16:11 -0400 >From: Gerry Otte MIKE: Huh. Stephen must have taken the day off. CROW: Yeah, probably off writing about that time Scully had a baloney and cheese sandwich. >Title: A Romeo and Juliette Tale > >Author: Nor Z Doats TOM: [sings] Mairzy doats and Nor Z Doats and little lambse divey... >Rating:G (Totally appropriate for anyone who loves Xfiles) MIKE: Totally inappropriate for anyone who loves Who's The Boss. TOM: Somewhat appropriate for anyone who loves Space Precinct. CROW: People who like Union Square _are_ inappropriate. >Category:MSA (Mulder, Scully Angst) [ALL sigh.] CROW: Why couldn't it be Mulder-Scully Ennui? >Spoilers:Gethesame MIKE: You know, I only want to say, if there is a way, take this fanfic away from me, 'cause I don't want to taste its poison. >Disclaimer: *** Come on! This is getting old.... ALL: We agree! >These characters from the X-Files do not belong to me, >they are the property of Chris Carter and 10-13 Fox. >So I don't mean to offend any of the characters in any >way. *** TOM: [fanboy voice] Except for Krycek. Hey, ratboy, you suck! >Authors Notes: Warning: Extremely sad ending and if >you don't like angst then get outta here!! TOM: See ya. CROW: Aloha. [The BOTS try to leave.] MIKE: Nice try... > I want >feedback!!! Write me all you x-philes!! Hows our >story coming Jen?? Or Spook E?? Keep up the good >work!! MIKE: Keep up the good work, and don't write fanfic. >Summary: Characters die. Scully writes a final >letter to Mulder before she 'joins' him. CROW: Why? Is he coming apart? BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA! TOM: Ssssshh, Crow! I don't like the sound of this... > But there is >one thing she didn't know before she makes the fatal >desicion. TOM: How to spell, apparently. MIKE: Strap in, boys. Looks like we're headin' for "Short walk" country. >To someone I love, CROW: [Scully] "The guy who played the In Vitro on Space: Above & Beyond..." > To my ever dearest partner, To my >closest friend and To my big brother always, Mudler, MIKE: Oh, yeah, she's real close to him... TOM: Mudler? Wasn't he Snively's assistant? CROW: Hey, she's giving her Emmy speech! > The first words that you had ever first spoken to me [TOM opens his mouth.] MIKE: You know, Tom could jump all over a defenseless little grammar error, just like Hitler did Poland. But I think he should let it go. TOM: Well, jeez, put it _that_ way... CROW: You're in check now, Caesar! > was, "no one down here but the F.B.I.'s must > unwanted." CROW: [Scully] Even then your wisecracks got on my nerves. > But you were never unwanted in my life > Mulder. And now four years later, we have grown > together so much in a way that I can not describe. TOM: Much like Siamese twins. No wonder people stare. > I have become so close to you. You have acted like my > big brother at times and other times you were just my > closest friend. And in other ways you were my lover. CROW: So which ways were those? > I have told you this so many times Mulder but when I > say it this time I could not say it with more > certainty, You are the only one I trust. MIKE: [Scully] Except for Tom Hanks, but really, can you blame me? > When I > walked down to your apartment that day, there was > only one thing on my mind. TOM: [Scully] Is Betty going to end up with Victor Comstock or Scott Sherwood? > You couldn't be dead was > all I thought. But when the police had asked me to > identify the body that was lying on the floor of your > apartment, I could not lie. CROW: [Scully] _I_ chopped down that cherry tree! > Before my eyes was the > one person in the world that I had loved and trusted > more than anyone imaginable. TOM: [falsetto] Vince Gilligan. CROW: No, that's the person _you_ love and trust more than anyone imaginable. > And now, Mulder, I know > why. There is no other reason that you would have > possibly shot yourself. MIKE: Except maybe "Playing God." > If I could go back to that > day where we stood in the warehouse and I told you of > my cancer, saying "They gave me this desiese to make CROW: I hate desieses to pieces! > you believe," which must have crushed your life, I > would have taken it back. Mulder, I didn't mean to > hurt you, TOM: [sings] I'm sorry that I made you cry-y-y... > but I needed to tell you the truth or you > might have not believed me at all. Mulder, I love > you. ALL: Awwwwwww. > When I found that I had cancer what crossed my > mind first was that I would die and leave you. TOM: And she'd BETTER NOT! YOU HEAR ME, FANFIC? DON'T GO WHERE I THINK YOU'RE GOING! MIKE: Steel yourself, Tom. > The > thought made my stomach knot and burn into a million > peices. What I never thought could be imaginable was > that you left me first and I don't understand how my > life can go on. TOM: Come on, Scully, call the Samaritans! > And now because of you, Mulder, I > have decided to leave the F.B.I.I have decided to > leave my family and friends. I have decided to leave > the world. But not just that Mulder, TOM: Whaddaya mean, "not just that"? We didn't think you were going to Jupiter! CROW: Or Uranus! TOM: Shut up, Crow! Scully needs our love. > I have decided > to leave my life. And tonight is the night that I > will join you in heaven where we are both destined to > be forever. I love you Mulder and I want to be with > you eternally. Goodbye and we will meet again. CROW: You know, Scully, I hear Frank Black is dating... >Love you always, > Your partner, Dana Scully MIKE: [Scully] P.S. What are they wearing in Hell this season? TOM: Shut up, Mike! That's not funny! > Minutes later Scully took in a deep breath and > pleaced her pen down. She took out Mulder's picture. CROW: ...execution-style, with a shot to the back of the head. TOM: Will you guys quit it?! I'm trying to send Scully some positive vibes. > She had one picture of Mulder, which was one that > she ahd gotten professionally. CROW: Where, at Sears? MIKE: [Minnewegian] All right, Fox, just sit right down here, and try to smile nice... > But it was good > enough. She sat beside the couch. She was hungry. MIKE: Or filled with soul-crushing despair, one of the two. > Ever since she hadbeen struck with the news of > Mulder's death she had forbidden to eat. MIKE: By who, the Caliph? Did the Sultan decree this thing? TOM: She briefly considered chucking it all and running away with an Arabian noblewoman named Safie, but then she realized it wasn't intricate enough a plot twist. CROW: Oh, where'd you read that? Some _book_?! > She kissed > Mulder's picture gently and inside her mind she > imagined his face, smiling and looking at her. CROW: Which made it so much easier to pull the trigger. > He > waved to her and said her name. MIKE: [Mulder] Hey, Scully, look at me! I'm _dead_! > He told her that it > was okay and that he was still alive, she'd just have > to hang on. MIKE: I thought that's how _Mulder_ was supposed to go. CROW: Um...Scully's going to be okay, right, Mike? MIKE: Sure. It's just fanfic. > But her eyes flashed open and she was > once again in reality, where Fox Mulder really was > dead. CROW: He's not only really dead, he's really most sincerely dead. > She looked at the picture, his soft eyes > looked at her as if he was real. MIKE: Instead of the festering hunk of meat in the morgue. TOM: Shut _up_, Mike! > "I'm sorry Mulder. > So sorry. But I will be with you again." TOM: Scully, you've got so much to live for! Your career! MIKE: Your hair! CROW: Your...uh...your career! > she > whispered quietly. She took the gun in her hand and > pulled back the trigger. BOTS: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! MIKE: That's why I say "Hey, man, nice shot!" TOM: SHUT UP, MIKE! > Her body fell to the ground > souless. MIKE: Uh...look, guys, she didn't have any French money! Guys? [Sobs from the bots.] > In one hand a picture of Mulder and in > another a gun that was still smoking from the fire > that had been shot. MIKE: So how do you shoot a fire? Guys? TOM: [sobs] I've been scarred for life... CROW: [sobs] I've known true pain... > Hours later, Mulder walked down > to Scully's apartment, #35. He was ready to tell her > the truth. That this was all a fraud. TOM: [more sobs] Oh, _now_ he wants to tell her. WAY TO GO, MACCHIAVELLI! > It was a > cover-up for Mulder. He knocked on the door, once > then twice and he got no answer. He continued in and > was amazed that Scully had left the door unlocked. CROW: [between sobs] I'm amazed she'd want to die for this CHIMP! > His body felt weak when he saw on the ground the body > of the person he had loved. MIKE: Bob Keeshan! NOOOOO! > He went over and began > crying over her body frantically. MIKE: Wuss. TOM: HEY! > His tears fell > onto her. He touched her, she's so cold, he thought. CROW: [sniffle] Nothing new there... MIKE: There you go, that's the spirit...just keep riffing... > He saw the picture Scully held in her hand and > noticed the faint lip marks drawn on it. He was > feeling dizzy, nautious and weak at the same time. MIKE: And he had the odd feeling that somewhere, he was being watched by a duck... > He went over to the night stand where he read > Scully's depressing letter. TOM: Of course it's depressing, you clod, IT'S A SUICIDE NOTE! WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING, VOLTAIRE?! MIKE: Easy there, Tom... TOM: SCULLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! > It was his fault, he > thought. He then Took Scully's gun and wiped it off. CROW: "Ew, there's all this icky blood all over..." Oh, forget it. > He pulled his body down on top of Scullys MIKE: How many Scullys were there? > and held > her against his chest. Her blood, was soaking his > shirt. TOM: [sniff] Her commas, were getting in the way of the sentence...SCULLYYYYYYYYYYY! > He held the cold metal to his right temple. MIKE: AW, COME ON! CROW: NOOOO! Not you too, Fox! > And began to pull the trigger. It felt like minutes > before the crash went off and Fox Mulder was also > dead. [A long, long silence.] CROW: ....is it time to go? TOM: Yes. [1...2...3...4...5...6...7...] [To be continued...as if such a thing would be preferable...] Peter Milan ti...@eyrie.org -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/ Now offering spam-free web-based newsreading From: pmi...@asid.org Subject: MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (3/4) Date: 1998/04/03 Message-ID: <6g2s3a$r0e$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> X-Deja-AN: 340507243 X-Http-User-Agent: Mozilla/2.0 (compatible; MSIE 3.02; Windows 95) Organization: Deja News - The Leader in Internet Discussion X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Apr 03 14:35:03 1998 GMT Newsgroups: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (3/4) By Peter Milan ...And this one's gonna hurt, too. [SOL. The guys stare straight ahead, ashen-faced. Dead silence for a long moment.] CROW: So. TOM: Well. MIKE: That was...uh... [Everyone begins shouting with incoherent rage at once. This lasts for a good minute, then--] [Deep 13. Dr. F looks on placidly. We can dimly hear the outraged shrieks of the guys in the background.] Dr. F: Something wrong, Mikey-pants? [SOL. Everyone is screaming their retorts. MIKE: --YOU MADE US WATCH THIS PIECE OF-- TOM: --HAD TO SEE SCULLY SHOOT HER-- CROW: --YOU SICK FREAK!! [Deep 13. Dr. F cleans his glasses casually.] Dr. F: So...what I hear you saying is that watching Scully plant a bullet in her own brain was a little too much for you? [SOL.] ALL: YES!! [Deep 13. Dr. F grins.] Dr. F: Well, then I guess I shouldn't send you this other Scully- snuffs-self fanfic, then, should I? [SOL. Complete shock.] TOM: ...other....suicide fanfic? [Deep 13. Frank walks in.] Dr. F: Yep. It's called "Shots Rang Out". You have fun, you crazy kids. You might want to bring a tarp! HAHAHAHAHAHA! FRANK: Wow, Steve, you're so damn EVIL! Dr. F: You betchum, Frank. [SOL. More rage.] MIKE: Hey, why stop NOW?! We haven't seen the Lone Gunmen gassing themselves in a secluded garage yet! TOM: Mike... MIKE: Aren't we going to watch Mulder's mom tie a weight around her neck and sink to the bottom of Cape Cod Bay?! TOM: Mike. MIKE: I know! Let's watch Scully's brother as he bashes his own head in with a friggin' BALLPEEN HAMMER! CROW: I wouldn't mind seeing that... [Movie light.] ALL: AHHHHHH! WE GOT MOVIE SIGN! [7...6...5...4...3...2...1...] TOM: I thought suicide was supposed to be _painless_. MIKE: Not to us. >Date sent: Sun, 01 Feb 1998 19:56:39 -0500 >From: Claudia Chapman >Subject: Shots Rang Out CROW: From www.grassy-knoll.com. >Hi. I hope Im doing this OK. TOM: Well, _that_ inspires confidence. MIKE: Shush. > I wrote this story a while ago and I was > hoping you could archive it for me. I believe this should be archived > under "Angs" THanks. CROW: Oh, I think I'll be filing it under "Twisted X-Phile Fantasies", thank you very much. > > File size: 25K > Rating:PG > Category:XA > Spoilers:None > Keywords: None > Summary: A devastating suicide note is found a long with the body... > Written by the person you would least expect. CROW: Gee, wonder if it's the calm and collected Scully and not the emotional and troubled Mulder. > THanks again, > Blue Moon MIKE: Any chance David and Maddie will show up in this? TOM: What for? MIKE: To tell Mulder and Scully what _not_ to do. TOM: You mean overact and pursue movie careers? MIKE: You know darn well what I mean. > PS PLEASE Donot add my email address!!! TOM: I'll be keeping that for my own purposes. Get ready for all the Oscar lemon fanfics you can stand! >************************************************************************ > > "Shots Rang Out" > written by Blue Moon > > Disclamer: Characters Mulder and Scully (unfortunately) donot belong to > me. MIKE: Let us bow our heads in fervent thanks. > They belong to Chris Carter/1013/FOX. I just wanted to borrow them > cause their great characters. Of course you all know this. Please dont > sue me. I mean no harm, and Im not getting any money out of this so... TOM: "No, all I get out of it is the knowledge that I've let the world know what kind of horror boils away under my skull." MIKE: Tom, this is _fanfic_. Mulder and Scully aren't really dead. > ON WITH THE SHOW! CROW: Let's watch everyone commit hara-kiri! MIKE: Boy, what must the Millennium fanfics be like? > Detective Jane Wiler walked into the room shaking her head. She looked > under the sheet that covered the body on the floor. "Shame." TOM: Unfortunately, the victim was dead and, as thus, beyond shame. MIKE: Not to the Catholics! > The victim > was young. Suicide was one of the hardest things for her to look into. > Millions of young people killing themselves for the worst reasons. CROW: You mean despair and hopelessness shouldn't count for them? Those darn fool kids! > A tall balding man walked through the apartment door. He saw the sheet > on the floor, and took a quick look beneath it. MIKE: WOW! Look at that! I can see right through her brain! TOM: That's not funny, Mike! MIKE: Oh, relax... > He portrayed no emotion > whatsoever. CROW: Oh, it's Skinner. > He noticed her, and stood up. "Det. Wiler?" The tall balding > man with glasses walked over to her. "Assistant Director Skinner of the > FBI." CROW: WOOOOO! MIKE: Way to call it, buddy! > Wiler raised her eyebrows at the mentioning of "FBI." "FBI? Why are you > here? This is just a suicide." TOM: It's just the corpse of a vibrant, beautiful young woman driven by grief into blowing her FRIGGIN' HEAD OFF! WHY SHOULD YOU BE CONCERNED?! > AD Skinner looked uncomfortable. MIKE: He probably needs to adjust. TOM: Adjust what? His code of ethics? His sense of self? MIKE: You wouldn't understand. > She guessed it was more than that. She > had learned to read even the hardest of people. She could see pain, > disgust, sorrow, even a little anger. CROW: And some scrambled eggs on his tie. > She figured they must have known > each other. Lovers perhaps? No, he was much to old. MIKE: Hey, just because there's snow on the mountain...oh, wait, there's _nothing_ on the mountain. Never mind. > Partners? He cut her > off before she could decide, "She worked with us. Was there a note?" TOM: Yes. A B flat. CROW: Like her head! TOM: SHUT UP, CROW! > She looked at him once again, "Yes there was." She handed him the > letter. It had been written by hand. MIKE: She was going to have it engraved, but that would look mighty suspicious... > From the looks of it, the woman had > been upset while wrote it. TOM: Well, gee, what was your first clue, Poirot? The deep indentations in the writing, indicating tension by the author? Perhaps some spattered ink in the margins? Or maybe the fact that it was a SUICIDE NOTE!! MIKE: Deep breaths, Tom. TOM: YOU...YOU DUMB BALD BALDING DUMMY! > Small tear spots could be seen in spots, > making the ink run. He began to read it. MIKE: [Scully] "Dear Penthouse, I'm a student at a small East Coast law enforcement academy. One night, me and my roommate, Clarice Starling--" TOM: THAT'S IT! I'M LEAVING! [Tom tries to leave the theater and crashes on the grate outside. Loudly.] > "Its amazing how humans can measure time. At times we measure it in > days, weeks, months, and even years. But other times we can barely > measure it at all because it lasts for only a fraction of a second. And > when we realize that moment is lost, we wish we could have changed it. CROW: Isn't this the plot to "Somewhere In Time?" MIKE: Actually, I think it's "Back To The Future." You okay, Tom? TOM: [OS] I'm FINE! [sniffles] Could somebody pick me up? >This is why every time a warm summers night passes, or I smell the sweet >aroma of roses or fresh chocolate chip cookies I think of him - MIKE: Luciano Pavarotti? [MIKE gets up and grabs TOM.] >my partner, my friend, my lover; CROW: Marita Covarrubias. MIKE: Watch it. CROW: Oh, like your little Starling ref was any better. Isn't that the second time you've done that one? > Mulder. CROW: Him too. >I remember the case well, for how could I forget when it has been >branded into my mind? TOM: You don't need to tell us, Dana. Does "Time Speeder" mean anything to you? > My skull. Every neuron. CROW: Don't they mean N**r*n? MIKE: I thought it was N*****. TOM: Ssshhhhh! He sees and knows all! >They -- the police -- had found a couple who had died in their homes. >One, shot point blank through the head, the other had been nearly >decapitated. MIKE: Wow! They really did commit hara-kiri! >It was around 9:30 when we stepped onto the front porch of Ms Carol >Swanson's house. The smell from the porch were unimaginable. MIKE: Saaaaay, is that a Hungry Man meal I smell? >The sweet smell of roses and damp earth mingled with the smell of warm >chocolate chip cookies that were fresh from the oven. CROW: Wow. I don't even like walnuts in mine. > These smells, to >most, are reminders of childhood summers, but not I. No, now, every time >a smell these I remember him. TOM: [Scully] My dear, sweet Paul Prudhomme. >Ms Swanson came to the door, the second I saw her I remember how a >imagined her to be the perfect grandmother. MIKE: I SING THE BODY ELECTRIC! > She was an older woman with >dark graying hair tied back in a loose twist. Her eyes were the most >crystalline blue I could have imagined. TOM: Crystalline blue is a clear sky...crystalline blue...crystalline blue is a clear sky... > She wore a loose pair of tan >slacks, and a light green blouse. Over that she wore a floral printed >apron. The apron was splattered with fresh cookie batter. CROW: Red, viscous cookie batter. >She smiled warmly, and invited us into her *Martha Steward* type home. >The house was coldly perfect, alien. TOM: This fanfic's a bug hunt! > Delicate stenciled ivy patterns >lined the cream walls. In the living room hung long burgundy velvet >curtains, and Victorian style furniture. The kitchen was lacking a >single speck of flour, a single dirty dish. The kitchen was decorated >with dark woods and marble counter tops. Everything was styled >perfectly. CROW: Except for that dead dog hanging in the foyer. TOM: That's a conversation piece. CROW: Ohhhhh... >Ms Swanson sat us down giving us each a tall glass of ice cold lemonade >and one of the trays of cookies that covered the counter, slowly >cooling. They were delicious. The chocolate was still gooey and warm. MIKE: There's just too many "gooey and warm" jokes to be made, aren't there? TOM: Yeah, but let's not go there. >She left the room, claiming to have, "forgotten something." TOM: Also, she wanted to "slip into something more comfortable." >It was so ironic. CROW: Don'tcha think? MIKE: OH NO YOU DON'T! [Mike rips off Crow's arm and hucks it at the screen.] CROW: Geez, Mike! MIKE: Sorry. There's just some things you have to nip in the bud. > That time - when she left the room - Mulder had said >how she reminded him of a grandmother. CROW: Then he discussed his infantilism fetish. MIKE: _Please_ shush. > We had quietly discussed the fact >that there was no way on Earth this kindly woman could have done such a >terrible thing. We should have known better. *I* should have known >better. MIKE: Yeah, you _should_ have known better! What the hell's your _problem_, Scully? YOU'RE WORTHLESS! WORTHLESS! >This next part pains me the most, for it is etched into every part of my >being - my soul. I remember being in the kitchen, discussing the case >with Mulder, when Ms Swanson came back. She came back with a 9mm and a >devilish grin on her face. CROW: Time to play the William Burroughs home game! > A face no human can bring onto themselves. TOM: Except Jim Carrey. >Her eyes were still that same crystalline blue, but colder. I remember >the sparks from those tow rounds she fired, and a warm liquid on my >face. CROW: You know, there's a "Silence of the Lambs" joke that I'm choking on right now... > It was blood. And it wasn't my own. MIKE: And it tasted like raisins. I have no idea why. >I shot five answering shots, without even realizing what I had done. TOM: Oh, it was her other personality, Norbert. >They all filled her chest like stuffing in a turkey. TOM: Bullets instead of potatoes? Honey, I LOVE you! > I remember her >falling to floor in a roll of flowery cloth. Blood soaked into her white >carpets and her clothes until her eyes finally clouded over and she left >our world and went straight into the very deepest bowels of Hell. MIKE: Well, actually, Catholic dogma states that if she truly was insane, she-- TOM: Stifle! >I was numb -- cold -- frozen -- as I fell to my knees next to my >partner. CROW: Uh...Scully, that's not what "mouth to mouth" means... TOM: Oh, _gross_! Thanks for that image! > The weight of cold metal in my hands slipped out. He was almost >gone. The bullet had burrowed its small metallic body deep into his >chest, TOM: And was napping next to his left ventricle. > and blood seeped out at a sickening speed. But he was still >conscious. barely. MIKE: So he's barely conscious. Typical day for him. >His breathing was shallow, but he would be leaving us fast to join his >father, Deep Throat, [ALL do a spit take.] CROW: _This_ is new! TOM: My GOD! This explains it all! It exlains the clones and the... and...wait a second, that doesn't explain anything. It doesn't even make any sense! > and possibly his sister. He was slipping fast, >slipping like sand slips through my fingers. CROW: Like sands through the hourglass... >I am not aware of much after he died. I was barely conscious myself. I >was still awake, but to frozen to remember anything. The only things I >remember are holding his head in my lap TOM: Shut up, Crow. CROW: ...wow. I didn't even have time to open my beak. > as the police and ambulances >finally arrived. I remember his soft hands on my face, a reassuring >touch. MIKE: [Elephant Man] You have a kind face... > I heard them shout as I stared into those big blue puppy dog >eyes for the last time. CROW: And then he buried his face in my crotch. MIKE & TOM: CROW!! CROW: Like a dog! Like a dog! > *See you when you get there.* I wondered what it >was he took from me, he took my heart and soul. MIKE: Heart and soul...that's what you took from me, heart and soul... and all my dignity... TOM: [quiet sobbing] Mulderrrrr... > After that its all a blur. Strong hands pulling me away, and bright >lights and reassuring voices. But thats all they were. CROW: Wasn't that a Jay McInerney novel? >When you find this letter it will be too late to save me. I will have >joined *him* my father and my sister. CROW: Mulder's her father and her sister?! > I cant live on with the guilt of >what has happened. Its too much. TOM: I can't live on without apostrophes! > Every little thing from that night is >playing constantly through my head. MIKE: Every little thing she does is tragic! > I see that night, see his face >everywhere I look. I enter our office, and feel as if he has ripped my >heart from my chest, and put it back in my hands. CROW: And that's why _I_ wear Isotoner gloves! >So I must say goodbye. Goodbye. ALL: Bye!! TOM: Have fun frying in hell! > Dana Scully" > > Skinner gave the letter back, nodded his thanks, and walked out the >apartment door. The image of that poor agent danced around in his head. MIKE: The truly horrible thing is, she was riverdancing. >Poor Scully. CROW: Poor Wiggum. > Her face had been pale and bloodied. The small hole in the >side of her head where the bullet had entered left a dark stain on the >floor. TOM: Oh, maaaaan...[sobs again] CROW: Oh my God! They killed Scully! YOU BASTARDS! MIKE: You okay, Crow? CROW: The other arm, Mike! Get 'em! [Mike rips off Crow's other arm and hucks it at the screen, pegging Skinner in the head.] TOM: Nice shot. >It was a shame really. The loss of such a great agent. MIKE: Yeah, but then Jerry Maguire got married and-- TOM: SHUT UP, MIKE!! >************************************************************************ >I hope you liked it. TOM: YOU HOPE IN VAIN, HEARTLESS WENCH! > Blue Moon MIKE: [sings] Blue Moon...you saw me sitting around...without a gun in my hand....without my corpse on the ground... CROW: Time to go yet? TOM: Uh...don't think so. [Still a little more coming in part four.] Peter Milan ti...@eyrie.org -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/ Now offering spam-free web-based newsreading From: pmi...@asid.org Subject: MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (4a/4) Date: 1998/04/03 Message-ID: <6g2sqb$rq5$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> X-Deja-AN: 340507281 X-Http-User-Agent: Mozilla/2.0 (compatible; MSIE 3.02; Windows 95) Organization: Deja News - The Leader in Internet Discussion X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Apr 03 14:47:39 1998 GMT Newsgroups: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (4a/4) By Peter Milan A somewhat more relaxed segment, but it still stings. And I'm really starting to hate My Deja News... > > TOM: Great. Maybe this time we'll watch Skinner slowly draw a razor blade over his tongue. >I did not write this. MIKE: Well, what did you write? Show us! Really! We want to know! > I am forwarding this to xff on behalf of the >author with their permission. This work was originally run on >the EMXC mailing list and all feedback and comments should >be directed to the author at: wagn...@mindspring.com TOM: Let's send him some Syd Field books. > >SciNut(O'tay!) CROW: O'tay? No way. >host EMXC > >To join the EMXC mailing list send an email to EM...@aol.com. CROW: And you too can be subjected to more fanfic like this! > >============================================== >---------------------------------------------------------------- >Lee Ann is posting this story for her husband, Steven. >Please forward to XFF, ATXC, and Gossamer. CROW: Can this marriage be saved? TOM: Should it? MIKE: Hey, be nice. At least he didn't write that last piece of dreck. > >---------------------------------------------------------------- >The Gothic Dream TOM: Oh, NO! Gene Loves Jezebel is gonna be in this! CROW: Or Morrissey! MIKE: Or Anne Rice! >or >One Too Many Pieces of Garbage Pizza CROW: Hey, Steven, you're calling someone else's work garbage? What are the heating bills like in that glass house? MIKE: He's talking about pizza, Crow... TOM: As long as he doesn't have Mulder and Scully killing themselves, he's okay by me. > >Steven M. Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com > >Finished: 14 March 1997 TOM: Just in time to print it up and read it to the boys at O'Malley's. MIKE: Sure an' begorrah... > >Summary: >Lord Fox Mulder saves the damsel from the Evil Lord Alex Krychk. [ALL read that over a couple of times.] MIKE: ...WOW. Uh...I don't think we'll be bored this time around, fellas. CROW: I'm scared, Mike. >DISCLAIMER: This is a fiction story based on the characters >created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by >10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox >Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot- >lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely >within my imagination, or are used fictitiously. No connection >to any person, living or dead, is intended, and any resemblance >is entirely coincidental. Feel free to distribute, but please >keep me as the author. TOM: "The Gothic Dream" is filmed live before a studio audience! >--------------------------------------------------------------- > >The Gothic Dream >or >One Too Many Pieces of Garbage Pizza > >A Short Melodrama by >Steve Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com MIKE: Well, at least it's short... >She ran, the wind pulling at her diaphanous white gown. TOM: Saaaay! CROW: This is already better than the others! > It was >as if the devil himself was chasing her through the moors sur- [MIKE and CROW look at TOM expectantly.] TOM: I'm not saying it again! >rounding her father's estate. She stopped for a second, leaning >against a rock, her creamy white bosom heaving with each panted >breath. CROW: Mmmmm...that's what I like to see. > Pushing her auburn hair back behind one ear, she lis- >tened for the sounds of any pursuit. MIKE: COUNSELOR! COME OUT COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE! > >Suddenly the sound of hooves echoed louder than the thunder of >the storms approaching from the north. ALL: [sing] Ghost Riders In The Sky! > She started running >again, hoping the rider would not know the ancient moors as well [MIKE and CROW turn to TOM again.] TOM: I'M NOT SAYING IT! MIKE: But you do the burr just right! >as she. But when she cried out, falling over a rock in her path, >she knew that all was lost. MIKE: Much like the plot. CROW: [falsetto] Well, I've tripped. Time to die. >And lost she was, for within a moment, a man she despised more >than the devil himself dismounted and strode over to her. TOM: [falsetto] The director of "The Turning"! YOU BASTARD! >"Get away from me, Lord Alexander. I want no part of you," CROW: You wanna see what I bring to the party? TOM: Gentlemen, the lunchbox has landed. > she cried >out, trying to get back on her feet. MIKE: Yeah, if I could just crash here for a few days, I've got an unemployment check coming... >"You are mine," Lord Alexander Krycek told her. "By the time the >sun rises, you will either agree to become my wife or no man will >want you." ALL: HEY!! CROW: Where's Dudley Do-Right when you need him? >"Oh me, what can I do," she wailed, trying to get back up, trying >to run away from him. "You cad, you don't want me, you only want >my inheritance." TOM: So my feminist role model is reduced to a whiny damsel in distress. Thanks, fanfic. MIKE: On the other hand, nobody's ingested massive amounts of curare, so we're still ahead on this one. CROW: Did she actually just say "You cad?" >"You are right, milady. Though you are a pleasurable bonus, I >have run up a great debt in the gambling halls of London, and my >creditors are hounding me, demanding payment. Once I have you, I >can use your money to pay them off and return to the tables." MIKE: And then...AMWAY! >"No, never," she cried out. Death would be better then this >man's arms. ALL: NOOOOOOO! TOM: We've SEEN it! MIKE: You know, guys, this is a _Goth_ fanfic... >Neither had noticed the storm's swift approach, now almost on top >of them in the dark. The flash of lightning and the boom of the >thunder startled her. CROW: My name is Wally West...I'm the fastest man alive. >"I would rather die then lie in your arms, you scoundrel." TOM: Scoundrel. I like that. >"I plan nothing so final. When we return to your father's es- >tate, your guardian will be overjoyed that you will soon be wed." MIKE: So help me, if it turns out to be Skinner, Prince of Wales... >She brushed the auburn tresses out of her eyes and tried to stop >her heart from bursting in her chest. CROW: And failed miserably, blood spraying all over Krycek's face. >"And my dear," the familiar term sounding like a curse from his >lips. "Once we have wed and I have gotten you with child, I will >return to London and other interests." TOM: Like fox hunts! And dog shows! And...dare I say it? ANTIQUING! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! >"Never," she cried out, finally getting to her feet. Just in >time for Lord Alexander to take her into his arms. "Unhand me, >you rake," she called out, ineffectually pounding at his chest. TOM: [falsetto] Release me, you garden weasel! MIKE: [falsetto] Don't touch me, you entrenching tool! CROW: [bass] Stop struggling, you hoe! >"You are mine," Lord Alexander boasted into the night. CROW: [dumb voice] And I will hug you and squeeze you and pet you and love you and call you George. >Oh my God, what will I do, she thought, struggling to escape. MIKE: [sings] Hey, hey, what can I do... >So intent on the struggle, neither heard the approach of the mighty >black stallion and his rider. TOM: [Scottish] Do ye see the beast? Have ye got it in yer sights? CROW: It's Kelly Reno to the rescue! >"Is force the only way you know to get a wife, Lord Alexander," >was heard as the rider vaulted from his horse. MIKE: Well, there's also lies, flattery, and expensive jewelry... >"Ah, Lord Fox," the words dripping like poison from Lord Krycek's >tongue. CROW: Hey, ratboy, say it, don't spray it. >"I thought your taste ran more to jaded harlots, then unwilling >innocent young orphans who have no one to protect their virtue," >Lord Fox Mulder said. TOM: Why not split the difference at jaded young harlots? CROW: You mean Christina Ricci? TOM & MIKE: HEY! >"Well, you know, the pickings are a bit slim this time of year. MIKE: Yep, twister took the jaded young harlot crop... >Anyway, you may congratulate me. The lady has agreed to become >my wife." TOM: My wife...Morgan Fairchild! Yeah, that's it! >Lord Fox burst out laughing at that. "I want to hear it from the >lady. I've heard your stories before." MIKE: Especially that one about the three blondes? That one's a HOOT! >"No, Lord Fox, I never agreed to marry him. He is only >interested in my money, not me," she cried out. CROW: [falsetto] I want him to love me for my mind! >"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought you would have learned better at the >Czar's court." TOM: What the hell does William Bennett have to do with any of this? CROW: No, no, not the drug Czar...he means Moriarty, the Czar of crime. MIKE: He was the _Napoleon_ of crime! > Turning suddenly serious in tone, "Release her or >answer to me," Lord Fox told him. MIKE: What was the middle thing? >"Never," he spat. > >Pulling the saber that he had borne with honor at Waterloo for >his King and Country, Lord Fox said but two words, ALL: "Bite me." > "En Garde." MIKE: That too. >A cruel smile covered Lord Alexander's lips as he released his >unwilling betrothed and pulled out his sword. If there was >anything he loved more then taking a woman-child, it was a duel. CROW: When he wasn't doing that, he liked pudding! TOM: Buuuuuuutterscotch! >The fight started, neither man giving ground, the chatter of >metal against metal a counterpoint to the rumblings of the storm >around them. Once, Krycek knocked the sword from the hero's >hands, but Mulder gave a quick jump and retrieved the ancient >blade. TOM: Gee whiz. This is exciting. CROW: Yeah, you know, the way they...you know...don't give ground... MIKE: Almost better that that scene in "Young Sherlock Holmes." >As the auburn haired girl was about to give up hope that she was >to be rescued, fate stepped in. CROW: Chow Yun-Fate, to be exact. He sprayed Krycek with bullets... TOM: We wish. > Krycek slipped on a patch of wet >clay and Mulder's sword sliced open his belly. TOM: So the villain is killed because he's a klutz. Again, thank you, fanfic, thank you so. MIKE: But, again, no one has leapt in front of a speeding bus... > As the wounded >man dropped to his knees, watching his life's blood run through >his fingers into the ground, CROW: He milked it for all it was worth and hammed it up to beat the band! > Mulder towered above him and cried >out, "There can be only one," and swung his sword, delivering the >coup de grace. ALL: WHAAAAT?! CROW: Hello! My name is Fox Mulder! You killed my father! Prepare to die! TOM: Callbacker. > >A bolt of lighting struck near them, the clap of the thunder >echoing, as the horrified girl crumpled to the ground in a swoon. CROW: [falsetto] Oh, with all this excitement, I think I've come down with a case of the vapors! TOM: Is there any chance Catherine MacKinnon's going to destroy this fanfic? >She woke to find herself in Lord Fox Mulder's tender embrace, his >great coat wrapped around her. TOM: That coat's not so great. > "You are safe now, the cad will >never bother you or any other woman again," he assured her as he >swept her up into his arms. MIKE: And that was the end of Krycek, the man who stole my land, killed my paw, raped my sister, shot my dog, and stole my Bible! >She saw a smile warm his hazel eyes as he slowly lowered his head >to claim a hero's kiss. As their lips met . . . MIKE: Suddenly a flying saucer showed up and destroyed them. The end. CROW: I still don't see how Marilyn Manson figures into this... > > * * * > >Jackie St George woke up screaming in bed, her auburn hair in >disarray. Pushing it back from her face, she released her >breath. "That's the worse nightmare I've had in a long time. >This is the absolute last time I'll let Mulder order the pizza." CROW: Who? MIKE: Huh? TOM: There was no fanfic. Dana Scully was found alive, well, and of normal size... > > The End > (Or is it?) > MIKE: Oh, say it is... >------------------------------ ALL: D'OH! >Date: Fri, 13 Feb 1998 14:30:34 -0500 MIKE: The unluckiest fanfic of all! >From: "Sphinx" CROW: This fanfic is unknowable and mysterious, like the face on Mars. Or Dom DeLuise's children. >Subject: Mulder's Prayer (1/1) TOM: [sings] When I was Mulder's prayer... >Post this anywhere you want. I haven't sent it anywhere. Please >keep my name and address on it. CROW: Do what you like! Slap me around and call me Susan! >Title- "Mulder's Prayer" >Author- Rebecca Peck >E-mail- TOM: Wow, that's one unfortunate username. CROW: Think about how Susan Peni must feel! MIKE: Stop that. >Rating- G >Spoilers- None >Catagory- S,V TOM: Of what? >Disclaimer- Mulder belongs to Chris Carter, so does Samantha Mulder. >The voices in my head told me to write this, so sue them. They have >more money than I do. CROW: The voices in _my_ head told me to tell you that they like the voices in _your_ head. TOM: [falsetto] Well, the voices in _my_ head told me to tell you that they think the voices in _your_ head are really super- cute! [giggles] > >Author's notes- I just bought the tape with Conduit on it. CROW: Oh, wow! I thought they'd already done all the new Superman episodes for this season... > I was very >touched by the end. TOM: Oh, we could tell. MIKE: Watch it. > So I wondered what he was thinking and this is >what I came up with. Hope you like it! MIKE: X-Files! Wrote a fanfic 'bout it! Like to read it here it goes! >````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` >"Mulder's Prayer" > By Rebecca Peck >E-mail me at >````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` >Fox Mulder sat in the church, looking at the picture of Sam and >himself on the beach. He had never been a religious man, yet the >solitude a quiet of the church helped his aching heart. TOM: Uh-oh, guys, they're in a tranquil church. Any minute now, the triads are gonna show up for a shootout! CROW: You know, I'm heroically resisting a Billy Ray Cyrus ref right about now. >The beach had been warm, and his parents had been enjoying the day >immensely. They took quite a few pictures, just like this one of >him. The children had run along the beach, oblivious to the tragedy >that would affect them all. MIKE: Oblivious to the shark fin on the horizon. > After that night, his parents had thrown >out all the photos, except the ones he had hidden. This one he had >kept under his pillow. Part of him held it as a charm: as long as >he had her image, she was fine. Nobody could hurt her while he could >see her smile like that. No one could touch her while he held her >image close to him. TOM: Only Bettie Page _really_ understood him... >He put his hand down in his lap CROW: You know, I could make any sick reference I want, and it still wouldn't be as dark as what we've seen today! MIKE: Let's just let this one play out. TOM: I hope it's not a gun... > and looked at an old woman kneeling CROW: Are we still letting this play out? MIKE: Yes. In fact, let's hope he's playing with himself. >at the altar praying. Her hands clasped CROW: How about now? MIKE: No. > a rosary, MIKE: There. Now don't you feel dirty? CROW: Yeah, but I always feel that way. I'm a bad man, Mike. Spank me. > and though he >could not make out what she was saying, he could hear the pleading in >her voice, a pleading which echoed that in her heart. Thoughts raced >through his head. MIKE: And here comes the winner... TM: [bass] BEETLEBOMB. > He couldn't displace the self-blame he had imposed >on himself. He couldn't allow that someone else,something unknown to >him, had been responsible for her disappearance. > >He decided to try to pray, though doing so was against everything he >knew. With all he had seen, how could he still believe in God? Yet >something inside pulled him to his knees with the picture again >before his eyes. > > he began before he could chicken out, understand what You're trying to do. How can You let innocent people >die like this? So many people trust in You to protect them and keep >them alive. And You won't, or can't. Why? CROW: Kicks! >a boy. I tried to stop them, whoever. But You just sat by and >watched it happen with Your all-seeing eyes. TOM: God, the ultimate voyeur. > I don't understand! >You could have stopped them. I remember what those christians have >said! MIKE: That you would burn for all eternity unless you accepted God's love? > You can do anything You want to do! Why do You let these >things happen to us? We're only people! TOM: [Bill Hicks] Because I'm a Prankster God! I am _killing_ Me! >He took a deep breath, then plunged on, his eyes fixed on Sam's face. > Lord, I waned her back, >and my parents were torn apart by this. How can You sit back and not >do anything???> CROW: Easy. I'm trying to beat Tomb Raider II. >He stopped, his heart racing and his lungs rapidly searching for air, >even though his prayer had been internal. The anger he felt toward >God was slowly dissipating. He felt a peace come over his heart, MIKE: As a massive embolism worked its way up to his brain. TOM: And that's _still_ not as dark as what we've seen today! >though from where he could not say. He thought about the voice he >heard, the one telling him she would not be harmed. > > CROW: [dumb voice] Brink her back so we can start a farm and live off the fatta tha lan'! >He rose slowly, the lady at the altar now quiet. He walked to the >aisle, and she turned to see him leave. He looked back once, and she >gave him a watery smile through her tears. He smiled back, and >walked out the door, ready to resume his search with a new hope in >his heart. > >END > >><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>< >Just a short piece. CROW: Of crap. > Write me back with any comments, any words of >wisdom. I could use them. :-> > >------------------------------ CROW: So are you guys ready to resume riffing with new hope in your hearts? MIKE: Actually, I'm ready for a beer. TOM: We gotta go... [1...2...3...4...5...6...7...] [SOL. Mike is kneeling in front of the counter.] MIKE: God...I know I haven't attended mass in a few years...well, I _have_ been trapped in space, you gotta give me that... but I'd still like you to hear my prayer. Why, God? Why have you kept me trapped in space all these years? Why have I been subjected to all these horrible movies, posts and fanfics? Why was I forced to watch Scully put one in her brain not once, but _twice_ today? TOM: [offscreen--God voice] Because of what you did when you were 18, Nelson! MIKE: ...When I was 18? You mean becoming an Eagle Scout has somehow displeased you? TOM: Uh...wait. I forgot. It's the thing you did when you were 21. MIKE: You mean that when I started that recycling program at Community College, it incurred your wrath? TOM: [long beat] Did you ever do donuts on somebody's lawn? MIKE: Well, yeah, there was this guy who stole my best friend's girl, so to get back at him we TP'ed his yard and then did some-- TOM: THEN THAT IS WHY! That is why you are doooooooomed! MIKE: Oh, Lord, how can I win my way back into your good graces? TOM: You must give the bots PIZZA! And CANDY BARS! Especially Servo! [CROW walks in with a sandwich.] CROW: Hey, guys. MIKE: Oh, hi, Crow. Hey, God just told me that I have to give you guys pizza and candy bars to stop him venting his wrath upon me. CROW: God?! Oh, for--SERVO! Get down here, you weird little freak! [TOM comes in.] TOM: [sounding innocent] Gee, guys, what are you doing? I was just in my room organizing my bikini briefs, and nowhere the ship's PA system. CROW: Mike, that wasn't God. It was Servo pretending to be God. MIKE: SERVO!! TOM: Crow, we had him on the ropes! What's the matter with you? CROW: Hey, sorry, but I don't believe in messing with a man's belief system. Unless he worships L. Ron Hubbard. Or Sandy Duncan. MIKE: You know, Servo, I've been through enough emotional upheaval today without you pretending to be my deity. TOM: Oh, come on. What's the worst that could happen? [The lights start flashing.] CROW: You had to ask. ALL: AHHHHHHHH! WE GOT FANFIC SIGN! [7...6...5...4...3...2...1...] [One more. Sorry.] Peter Milan ti...@eyrie.org -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/ Now offering spam-free web-based newsreading From: pmi...@asid.org Subject: MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (4b/4) Date: 1998/04/03 Message-ID: <6g2tb9$sbc$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> X-Deja-AN: 340507035 X-Http-User-Agent: Mozilla/2.0 (compatible; MSIE 3.02; Windows 95) Organization: Deja News - The Leader in Internet Discussion X-Article-Creation-Date: Fri Apr 03 14:56:42 1998 GMT Newsgroups: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc MiSTed: Let There Be Angst! (4b/4) By Peter Milan It's over now... TOM: Sorry, Mike. MIKE: I proclaim thee wicked in my sight, Tom. >I did not write this. I am forwarding this to xff on behalf of the >author with their permission. This work was originally run on >the EMXC mailing list and all feedback and comments should >be directed to the author at: wagn...@mindspring.com > >SciNut(O'tay!) >host EMXC > >To join the EMXC mailing list send an email to EM...@aol.com. CROW: And now for a colorful vignette in which the Well-Manicured Man stuffs an M-80 wrapped in tinfoil and pennies in his mouth and lights the fuse. >============================================== >This story is being posted by Lee Ann Wagner (lawa...@mindspring.com) for >her husband Steven. Please forward to XFF, ATXC, and Gossamer. MIKE: D'OH! Steven! TOM: This is one understanding woman. >A Swim in the Dark >Steven M. Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com > >Rating: PG > >Finish Date: 9 Sep 1997 > >SUMMARY: Mulder catches Scully skinny dipping in a motel pool. [ALL do a spit take.] CROW: YES! Dr. F, I take back all that stuff I said about your mother! TOM: This is one _Very_ understanding woman! >DISCLAIMER: This is a fiction story based on the characters >created by Chris Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by >10/13 Productions, Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox >Broadcasting is intended. All unrecognised characters and plot- >lines belong to me. Names, characters, and places exist solely >within my imagination, are used with permission from the living >entity, or fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or >dead, is intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. >Feel free to distribute, but please keep me as the author. TOM: Enough disclaimer, let's get to the skin! > >--------------------------------------------------------------- >A Swim in the Dark >Steven M. Wagner >wagn...@mindspring.com CROW: Yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah! MIKE: Stay calm, Crow! CROW: NUDITY! WE WANT NUDITY! > > >It was one o'clock in the morning, and Scully couldn't sleep. CROW: Well, have you tried ma-- MIKE: Don't EVEN. CROW: --nufacturing sheep in your mind? (to MIKE) So quick to accuse, so quick to judge. It's sad, really. >It had been another deadend case in another no name town. And >now Mulder had found them another no name motel to say at. MIKE: Ah, the old no-tell motel trick! >Scully grabbed her bags from the trunk, mumbled a "We'll meet for >breakfast," and hurried to her room and the bed. TOM: Yeah, great. TAKE IT OFF! CROW: If my arms worked, I'd hold up a five dollar bill! >She caught the faint blue glow of a lit pool through the window >of her room. The idea of a swim appealed to the redhead. But >the lack of a swimsuit was a drawback. MIKE: Not for us, baby. TOM: SHAKE IT, DANA! > She frowned, but smile >remembering that the pool was in a secluded location and that >there hadn't been anybody by for the past half hour. It wasn't >the first time she had skinnydipped, CROW: Oh PLEASE tell me there's fanfic about that, too... > and she would walk to the >pool in her robe, gun tucked in one pocket, her id and room key MIKE: I usually bring my superego when I go swimming... >in the other. If she saw anybody, she'd return to the room, if >not. . . CROW: She'd shoot whoever was there and claim that they were conspiring or something... >Mulder jogged through the darkness of the night, the sounds of >the insects and nightbirds around him. TOM: Oh, not _this_ again! I don't want to hear about him running balls-to-the-wall again! > Ahead was the lights of >the motel, and waiting for him was a shower and late night talk >shows. CROW: And a whole lot of Spectravision. MIKE: [Skinner] Agent Mulder, can you explain why the film "Ass Freaks" appeared on your hotel bill? TOM: [Mulder] Aliens, sir. > As he hit the motel driveway, his pace slackened until he >was walking, letting the body slow down. The sounds of water >splashing caught his attention. MIKE: Hey...that sounds _shiny_! > He let himself into the pool >enclosure, trying not to make a noise. CROW: He began whistling "Hall of the Mountain King" under his breath... >The sight of the woman swimming nude rooted him to the patio. >She cavorted in the water like an otter, MIKE: Mmmmm...that's good cavorting. > gliding effortlessly >through the water, swimming a lap, then surface diving to the >bottom of the pool. The pale blue lights of the pool gently >illuminated her. TOM: [Scully] Hey, wow! I understand cold fusion! > He started to smile thinking of how it would be >holding her bare wet body in his arms, of her arms wrapped >tightly around him. CROW: Yes...yes, yes...more, more, MORE... MIKE: You're taking a cold shower after this fanfic, young man. >"Mulder?" > >A sharp word broke the spell. His mind quickly registered whose >green terry cloth robe was pooled at his feet. He looked at his >partner in the water, her auburn hair fanning out behind her, her >curves barely concealed by the water. TOM: [Daffy Duck] So rrround, so firrrrm, so fully packed! >"Mulder. Head back to your room. Then I'll get out and follow >you." MIKE: You saw nothing, do you hear? Nothing! SCHNELL! SCHNELL! > Mulder thought picking up the robe. tease a bit.> "What's it worth to you?" CROW: [Jimmy Stewart] This is a VERY INTERESTING SITUATION! >He saw her eyebrows go up before she answered smiling, "A home >cooked meal." TOM: Second, dedicate your life to charity. Third, get a partial lobotomy. MIKE: WHAT?! COOK A MEAL?! >"Na. Do better," he responded, holding the robe up. "How about >a date with Vanessa and Carrie? [Dumbfounded shock.] CROW: Steven Wagner, you beautiful bastard, I LOVE YOU! >She held onto the side of the pool for a second, thinking. In >the dim light he could see her eyes sparkle. Then she splashed >him. TOM: Which means he turned into a woman. CROW: Which means this fanfic just got _very_ interesting! MIKE: They're not crossing over with "Ranma 1/2"! Just relax. >He shook his eyes clear soon enough to see her pert bottom CROW: I love this fanfic on so many levels. TOM: You know, I don't think I'll respect this fanfic in the morning...AND I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS! >disappear into the water as she surface dived into the deep end >of the pool. "This means war," he growled as he stripped off his >clothes and shoes and jumped into the water. MIKE: Unfortunately, he forgot he can't swim and sank like a rock. >And entered her element. She swam effortlessly through the blue- >lit water. TOM: [sings] They call her Scully, Scully, faster than lightning... > He tried several times to catch up to her, wanting to >dunk her for splashing him. But each time, she easily escaped >his grasp. The play of light on her trim frame captivated him, TOM: Mmmmm...a lovely beast like that could put steam in a man's strides. MIKE: I thought she was your feminist role model. TOM: Yeah, but she's a total hottie, too! >the bands of light and shadow both revealed and hid her beauty. >Soon his thoughts turned from grabbing a leg and dunking, to >running his hands up her legs and then holding her body close to >his. CROW: Boy, if I had nipples, I bet they'd be rock hard right now! MIKE: .....Crow? CROW: Yeah? MIKE: AHHHHHHHHHHHH! >She was swimming on her back, gently propelling herself with her >hands, smiling at her partner swimming after her. Her face >signaled her surprise as her partner's hands grabbed her slim >ankles CROW: [husky] Go slow. > and slowly slid up her legs MIKE: [really husky] Oh, yeah, baby. > and around her waist as he >started to pull her into his arms. TOM: [Isaac Hayes] I'm gonna take you and lay your body down... > > *-*-* > >Jason Cleaver's head jerked up as a plaintive "NO" escaped his >lips. The horror of Scully in Mulder's arms echoing through his >brain. CROW: What th--AHHHHHHHHHHH! TOM: D'OH! Stung again! > The other people in the bullpen looked over, worried at >him as he shook his head, "I'm ok. Nothing to worry about." MIKE: Wow...you know, this is just like the twist ending at the end of "The Usual Suspects". Or "Futurekick", I forget which. CROW: AHHHHHHHHHHHH! >Megan Reilly's 'shipper stories.> CROW: NOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO! YOU SONOVA-- MIKE: Calm down, Crow! CROW: DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL, YOU DAMN DIRTY APES! TOM: Time to go, guys... CROW: KILL! KILL! KILL! [1...2...3...4...5...6...7...] [SOL. The bridge is a disaster area. Sounds of destruction from off.] MIKE: I hope you're satisfied, Dr. F! Between seeing Scully's heaving bosom in the Gothic Dream and watching her skinny-dip in "A Swim In The Dark", Crow's gone completely insane! CROW: [off] CROW SMASH! MIKE: And between that Mulder's Prayer thing and watching his heroes kill themselves, Tom's gone all Goth on us! [Tom comes in, wearing all black.] TOM: Hello, Michael. You know, all this fanfic has made me realize that we are all alone in a cold, uncaring universe. MIKE: That's great, Tom. CROW! PUT DOWN THE DISHWASHER! [horrible offsceen SMASH] CROW: [off] DISHWASHER LAUGH AT CROW! TOM: In fact, I wrote a poem about it. *ahem* "Night's Sweet Embrace" by Thomas Servo. *ahem* Long have I walked through the cold, cold night, seeking surcease from my pain... CROW: [off] POEM HURT CROW'S EARS! [SMASH! CRUSH!] MIKE: Tom, maybe you oughtta-- TOM: [raising voice] The peace of the grave looms ever closer, a comfort from human woe--WHOOOOOAAAAAA! [CROW bumrushes Servo, crushing him. He jumps up and down on Servo.] CROW: CROW SMASH! SMASH! SMASH...huh. I feel a lot better. Thanks, Tom! TOM: Oh...the pain...the pain... MIKE: Actually, that worked out pretty well. Whaddaya think, sirs? [Deep 13. Dr. F is alone.] DR. F: Well, it didn't ruin your souls as much as I'd like, but you gotta admit, it left bite marks on your spirit, no? FRANK: [off] Doc, have you seen my copy of "Girlfriend In A Coma?" DR. F: Try under the bed. Well, kids, I'll send you a nice cheery movie tomorrow...it's a chipper British comedy called "Brassed Off!" Heh. Heh heh. Heh heh heh. AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!! [Out.] Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and (c) 1997 by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred. And yes, "Brassed Off!" is just as depressing as the admittedly ambiguous ending of this MiSTing indicates. You've been warned. See the fellas' reactions when I return with "Let There Be Angst 2: Suicide Is Painful." This MiSTing is not meant to insult any of the authors whose work appears herein... Later, Peter Milan ti...@eyrie.org -----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==----- http://www.dejanews.com/ Now offering spam-free web-based newsreading