[MiSTied] 'The Greatest Gift of All,' part 4
bookw...@my-dejanews.com
[Mike and bots enter and sit down. The lights dim.]
> From bal...@thebestemail.com Tue Jul 14 09:53:32 1998
Mike [singing]: 'Cause I'm the Ball-man!
> Date: Fri, 3 Apr 1998 02:16:25 -0700 (MST)
Crow: MST? That's appropriate.
> From: bal...@thebestemail.com
Tom [singing]: 'Cause I'm the Ball-man!
Crow: Thank you, Tom. I got it the first time.
> Subject: About Golf Balls
>
>
> =====> WE WANT YOU TO KNOW MORE ABOUT
Crow: Dental hygiene?
Mike: Swimsuit fashions?
Tom: The life cycle of the silk-worm?
> GOLF BALLS <=======
[All]: Oh.
>
> Lets Take Air For Example....
Tom: Take my air...please!
Mike: Hey, wait a minute...
>
> All of us know how tough it is to hit a good shot in windy conditions.
Crow: Especially if the wind isn't coming from the air, ifyaknowwhatImean...
> We assume therefore that air is just another natural element
Tom: Someone's been reading his Aristotle.
> we must
> out wit in order to score well.
Mike: I'm guessing this guy has a difficult time in that department.
[All snicker.]
> In reality, AIR is what makes it
> possible for us the hit the ball as far as we do.
Crow: I thought it was the club.
> The SPIN we impart
> on a ball
Tom: ...makes it really sick to its stomach. Poor thing.
> actually gives the ball lift, much like the wing on an
> aircraft imparts lift. This lift
Mike: The golf ball is wearing elevator shoes?
> makes it possible for the ball to
> stay airborne longer, enabling it to travel further.
Crow: And if you hit it into a tornado, no tellin' where it'll end up!
>
> In a vacuum, the average 250 yard drive would only travel about 180
> yards. A winged aircraft would not fly.
Tom: Notice it does not fly so much as plummet.
>
> Air is your Friend....::))
Mike: What the heck kinda smilie is that?
Crow: Ummm...an overweight guy wearing a headband and feather?
Mike: Crow, you are one weird mama-jama.
>
> Now here's one for you......
Tom: A priest, a rabbi, and an atheist are out playing golf...
> Does a ball fly farther on a hot dry day
> or cold wet day??....How about a hot humid day or a cold dry day ?
Crow: So he's trying to decide on golfing places between Arizona, Minnesota,
the Amazon, and Antarctica?
>
> Let me know what you think.
[All]: It stinks!
Tom [laughing, then sighing]: Ah, the classics are the best, aren't they?
>
> We reclaim premium quality golfballs from over 130 courses in 13
> states.
Mike: Or is it 13 courses in 130 states?
> We stock over 50 varieties of balls. If you're an average
> player, by the time you have played 3 holes with a new ball, you are
> playing with a ball that's in much worse condition than our premium balls.
Tom: Sure, if you're using a jackhammer for a golf club.
>
> We offer the highest possible quality recycled balls available...at
> direct pricing....HUGE SAVINGS over new balls. Yes we have BALATAS,
Crow: Blindingly Annoying Lame-o's Altering Time And Space?
Tom: Banal Actors Longing After Talent And Size?
Mike: BB-guns Aim Long And Tasers Aim Short?
> and a large variety of ladies golfballs,
Crow: They're pastel-colored, covered with makeup, and have PMS every month?
Mike: There goes any chance of getting a good rating on *this* MiSTing.
> plus the world's longest golfball -
Mike: Five miles long, as a matter of fact. Now you can get holes-in-one
without ever leaving home!
> the viper!
Tom: Watch out for snakes!
>
> Customer Satisfaction Is Absolutely Guaranteed.
Crow [in gangster voice]: Now youse better be satisfied, you hear? It'd be
a shame if something happened to your golf clubs.
>
> If you would like a free catalog,
Tom: Just any old catalog...
Crow: How about a free Victoria's Secret catalog?
> just send me an email.
Mike: Hmmm...email...email...nope, no email here. How's about I send an enema
instead?
>
> <A HREF="mailto:bal...@thebestemail.com">Click Here For Free Catalog</A>
>
>
> Regards,
>
> The Ballman
[Mike and Tom singing]: 'Cause I'm the Ball-man!
Crow: Not again!
Crow: I rather doubt it's the best email, if it allows people to send spam
like this.
>
>
> Our Mission:
Mike: To endure strange new spam...
Crow: To experience new net.loons, and new fanfic authors...
Tom: To boldly MiST what no one has MiSTed before.
> To Be The Best (As Determined By Our Customers)
Crow: As opposed to 'As Determined By A Troop Of Japanese Snow Monkeys?'
> Suppliers of Quality Recycled Golf Balls
>
> BUY SELL TRADE
Tom: Someone's been playing 'Civilization' a lot lately.
>
> ps..I have worked carefully to see that this educational information
Crow: Educational? Mike: Yeah. This is part of the required text for 'Golf:
A Social and Political Commentary'--a 3-credit class at Glendale
Community College.
> goes only to
> those who may have an interest.
[All]: Try harder!
> If you do not, please send me back
Crow [as Jimmy Stewart]: Clarence, please send me back!
> an
> email with remove as the subject. I will not mail to you again.
Tom [as Mike picks him up]: Promises, promises.
[The lights come up and they exit to the dining room. Mike peers out of the
window in the other door.]
Mike: Bruno's still there. We need a distraction.
Crow: Allow me. [shouting] Hey, Bruno!
[Bruno enters. Crow gestures out of the window to a table in the main dining
room. Seated there are three men and one woman. One of the men is
gesturing a lot, evidently trying to explain something. He drops a wine
glass, and it shatters.]
Crow: That guy keeps breaking your dinnerware.
[Bruno rumbles angrily and rushes out, leaving the door open. He is soon
seen entering the main dining room.]
Crow: Now's our chance. Let's go!
[Mike and the bots run out.]
[Cut to the carpark, where Gypsy stands waiting. Mike and the bots rush in.]
Tom: There she is! Gypsy!
Crow: Are we ever glad to see you!
Gypsy: No, you're not. No one ever is.
Crow: Fine, suit yourself.
Mike: No, really, Gypsy, we *are!* Hanging around waiting for us all this
time...
Gypsy: The first 10 million years were the worst. And the second 10 million
years, they were the worst too. The third 10 million I didn't enjoy at
all. After that, I went into a bit of a decline.
Tom: So how do we get out of here?
Gypsy: We can take a shuttle up to the SOL. There's a wormhole nearby--if
we can enter it before the end of the universe, we'll be safe.
Mike: Wow, how'd you figure out all this so quickly?
Gypsy: Didn't I tell you? I've got a brain the size of a planet. No one ever
listens to *me,* of course.
Crow: Shut up, Gypsy, and come on.
Gypsy [as they enter the shuttle]: See what I mean?
[Cut to SOL bridge.]
Magic Voice: 10 seconds to wormhole.
Crow: I wonder what'll happen to Pearl and the others?
Mike: Who *cares?* Let's just get *out* of here!
Magic Voice: Wormhole in 5, 4, 3, 2... [*Clang*] Entering wormhole now.
[Wormhole flashing lights, etc., now seen on bridge.]
Tom: What was that *clang* about?
[Faintly, we hear the sound of a honking horn.]
Mike: Oh, *no*...
[Cut to exterior shot. Pearl's minibus is being dragged through the wormhole
by a rope attached to the SOL.]
[Cut to minibus.]
Pearl: Nice try, Nels-kimble, but you'll never ditch me.
[SOL]
Mike: But how did you--
Tom: When did you--
[Minibus]
Pearl: I was just about to cut a deal with those restaurateurs--you'd perform
your "MiSTings" as part of the floor show, and we'd get free room
and board. But then some Zarquon idiot showed up and completely
drove us out of their minds. Plus, Bobo was getting sick from all that
rich food. [Groan from the back of the bus.] Not that I'd've minded
it, but the staff probably would've gotten tired of cleaning up after
him. Anyway, we found the minibus in the parking lot, dumped all the
parking tickets it had accumulated, and took off just in time to see you
heading for the wormhole. Brain Guy tossed a grappling hook and rope
at you, and voila!
[SOL]
Mike: The shuttle! We can escape in the shuttle!
Gypsy: No, we can't, Mike. It's back at the restaurant.
Mike: What?!
Gypsy: The shuttle *belongs* to the restaurant. It was programmed to go back
after dropping us off!
Mike: Nuts. Hmmm...maybe if I used the manipulator arm...
Crow: Don't you *dare,* Mike. Who knows what you'll break if you use it
again!
[Minibus]
Observer: You can't anyway, Nelson. I've disabled it with my mind.
Pearl: This bus had a lot of junk dumped in it over the millennia, Mike--
including a lot of movies and text files. I'll just bet I'll find the
perfect spirit-breaker in there. You die soon, Joe! Bwahahahaha!
[SOL]
Mike [sighing over the sound of Pearl's laughter]: Looks like the SOL acronym
is living up to its *other* meaning. Until next time, folks.
[Camera fades out as Pearl continues laughing. Just before the end, we hear:]
Bobo: Does anyone have any Pepto-Bismol?
Credits:
Characters in this MiSTing (except for the waiters and Max) are copyright
Best Brains, Inc. Host segments are drawn very heavily from 'The
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy,' copyright Douglas Adams. No infringement
is meant on either of these institutions. Hey, I kept hearing Hitchhiker's
Guide lines in Best Brains voices, until I *had* to do something about it.
So sue me. (On second thought, don't.) This MiSTing intends no insult
towards myself, women, or Iowans. It's all in good, relatively clean fun.
It is an insult, however, to marcomm and the ballman; they deserve it for
sending me unsolicited email. This MiSTing may be copied and posted, so
long as everything is kept *exactly* as you see it. Many thanks to FarSide,
Eightball, and Hikeeba for their helpful comments. And apologies to
Eightball for using his incomprehension of my story for one of the host
segments. *grin*
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