MSTing - Tommy, or I Can't Believe I Wrote This! [PROSE] [MEMIST]

[Jack Mileur]

[Freezer]

Jack Mileur - Come on down! You're the next contestant on
rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc!

<MSTing snipped. Applause added.>

Nicely done, my friend. Welcome to the fold!

--
(And you _have_ sent this off to Dr. Neylon and/or SVAM like a good little
MSTie, haven't you?)

My name is:
____ _
/ ___| | | http://www.geocities.com/
| |__ _ __ ___ ___ ____ ___ _ __ | | mysterysciencefreezer
| __|| '__/ _ \/ _ \/_ // _ \| '__|| | (My MSTings)
| | | | __/ __/ / /| __/| | |_| http://dccmm.com
|_| |_| \___|\___||___|\___||_| (_)(Rasslin' and other subjects)

And my anti-drug is porn.

[Jack Mileur]

Freezer wrote:

> (And you _have_ sent this off to Dr. Neylon and/or SVAM like a good
> little MSTie, haven't you?)

I don't think SVAM would take this; they mostly deal with anime
mistings. However, hmmm... maybe if I add a bunch of Japanese-isms like
"baka!" and "kawaii!" and changed the character's names to Andrew and
Darien, no one will notice... ;) Thanks for the applause, btw.

--Jack (aka River City Random)

[Freezer]

Jack Mileur - Come on down! You're the next contestant on

alt.tv.mst3k.mstings!

SVAM actually takes a wider range of MSTings than WS#9 does, mostly due to
SVAM's more liberal stance on lemon MSTings and the like and Dr. Neylon's
more cautious stance on MSTings from web articles and things of a
copyrighted nature. This would probably land in the "Random Debris"
section of SVAM. Check it out for yourself.

--
(And *ahem* some of my better stuff is in that section as well...)

[Jack Mileur]

Freezer wrote:

> SVAM actually takes a wider range of MSTings than WS#9 does, mostly due to
> SVAM's more liberal stance on lemon MSTings and the like and Dr. Neylon's
> more cautious stance on MSTings from web articles and things of a
> copyrighted nature.

Oh yes, that and the fact he hasn't updated the site since last September :)

> This would probably land in the "Random Debris"
> section of SVAM. Check it out for yourself.

Ah, that I will! Thanks!

[Jack Mileur]

Freezer wrote:

> SVAM actually takes a wider range of MSTings than WS#9 does, mostly due to
> SVAM's more liberal stance on lemon MSTings and the like and Dr. Neylon's
> more cautious stance on MSTings from web articles and things of a
> copyrighted nature.

Oh yes, that and the fact Michael Neylon hasn't updated the site since
last September :)

> This would probably land in the "Random Debris"

> section of SVAM. Check it out for yourself.

Ah, that I will! Thanks!

--Jack (aka River City Random)

[Bryan McGucken]

Hi Jack. Bryan McGucken again. Just read your memist. It was most
hilarious, and I look forward to your future mistings. Now for a
shameless plug. I don't remember if I mentioned this in my earlier
post, but I've posted a memist of a "Daria" story I wrote a year ago
to alt.tv.mst3k.mstings and rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc. The post went up
on December 12, 2002. Within a week's time I plan to post a misting
of a saccharine-soaked chunk of "Pepper Ann" cheese to both groupos,
if no one's claimed dibs on it (I can't tell because, although I
followed your instructions about signing up, I still can't post a
message to the dibs list). *LOL!* Oh well. Take care. Bryan
McGucken
Jack Mileur <riverci...@hotpop.com> wrote in message news:<3E5471C0...@hotpop.com>...
> MISTING - "Tommy" by Jackson Mileur [PROSE, MEMIST]
> MiSTed by RiverCityRandom and Typewriter Monkey
>
> MiSTer's Note: Okay, so this is my first MiSTing, based off a horrible English 1A
> essay I wrote when I was a college freshman oh so many years ago. I find it's a lot
> easier to MiST your own work because you don't have to worry about offending the
> author :) I got help on several riffs from my sister, Typewriter Monkey, who under
> the name Angeltenshi riffed the "Sailor Trek" series once featured on Shinji's Vault.
> I appreciate any and all feedback, so please send any comments, criticism, death
> threats or Meta-MSTing dibs to riverci...@hotpop.com. Thanks!
>
> --River City Random (aka Jackson Mileur)
> February 19, 2003
>
> Other MiSter's Note: Hi. if you read Angeltenshi's Sailor Trek MSTing, I'm sorry I
> didn't finish. If not... Hi. *waves* Enjoy. If you laughed really hard, I wrote
> those lines. ^_~ You know the drill, but it bears repeating... The Essay is RCR's and
> he's more than welcome to it. The MST3k gang belongs to Best Brains, so there. SWF,
> 5'2" brown/blue seeks non-related friend for MSTing and Long walks on the beach. Too
> bad she's 100 miles away from the nearest body of water. No Robots need apply. Ok,
> _Some_ robots.
>
> ~~Typewriter Monkey (esper...@hotmail.com)
> February 19, 2003
>
>
> [Mystery Science Theater 3000 season 9 opening credits]
>
> [SOL Bridge. Tom is wearing a sweatband over his dome, and Crow is wearing a
> Timberland sweatshirt.]
>
> Crow: [bouncing up and down as if he is jogging in place] C'mon Servo! Feel the
> BURN! No pain, no gain!
>
> Tom: [hoverskirt firmly planted on the saddle of an exercise bike, his springy arms
> attached to the handlebars] I'm trying, but I can't seem to figure out how to make
> the pedals go.
>
> Crow: Hmmm... [looks at Tom, glancing down at the pedals where Tom's nonexistant
> legs should be] Maybe you need to adjust the tension controls?
>
> [Mike wanders in, stage right. He is bleary-eyed and bent over as if he has just
> woken up.]
>
> Mike: Huh? What's all the noise about? What did you wake me up for at this ungodly
> hour of the morning?
>
> Tom: Good morning Mike! Ready for your ten-K run around the track?
>
> Crow: Yep, nothing better than prolongued strenuous athletic activity to start the
> day off right!
>
> Tom: Indeed... getting up with the sun, eating a natural diet, being out in nature,
> pushing our bodies to the limit--that's what life is all about! [starts bouncing up
> and down on one of the bike's pedals]
>
> Crow: And what's more, we're fighting off heart disease, building muscle tone, and
> being good to the environment, too!
>
> Mike: [still groggy] Uh... what time is it?
>
> Tom: It's 6:53 am, Mike! We've been up for hours, hitting the trails, and we've
> just come back for our mid-morning calisthenics session!
>
> Mike: What are you talking about? We're on a satellite. There *are* no outdoors.
> And what's more, you can't gain muscle tone or fight heart disease--you're robots!
>
> Tom: What? [slams down too hard on the pedal, causing the pedal to swing around and
> launch him in the air] Aaaaaahhh!
>
> Crow: Oh, Mike, you're such a pessimist! With you it's "can't" this and "half-
> empty" that. Always content to sit at home and get fat when you could be living life
> to the EXTREME!
>
> Mike: [nonplussed] You guys fell asleep watching OLN, didn't you?
>
> Tom: [V.O.] Hey, could someone get me down from here? [Mike and Crow look up] Oh
> hey, these rafters would make a *great* climbing wall!
>
> Mike: But Servo, your arms don't... [Arms stuck to the ceiling, Tom falls onstage]
>
> Tom: Aaaaugh! [Tom's springs shoot him up again]
>
> Mike: [slumps down in a catatonic stupor, shaking his head] Uhhhh..... we'll be--
>
> Tom: Mommmmmeeeee! [bobs down again]
>
> Mike: ... right back.
>
> [Commercials: When is a diet pill worth $153 dollars a bottle? When you've got more
> money than good sense... Talk to a debt consolidation counselor today, so we can
> lower your monthly payments, thus weedling even *more* interest out of you! ...
> Tonight on SCI-FI: SEX!--I mean LEXX! And so much more...]
>
> [We're back. Mike is more awake. He clutches a cup of coffee.]
>
> Tom: [dragging his stretched-out arms around] Thanks for getting me down, Mike.
>
> Mike: No problem, pal. I feel much more awake now that I've had some coffee.
>
> Tom: You mean, that wholesome, all-natural health coffee me and Crow whipped up?
>
> Mike: I was kind of wondering about the gritty texture. What's in it?
>
> Tom: Oh, the usual--corn, green peppers, chicken, *yawn* onions, ground up ram
> chips, motor oil, sawdust, a couple pairs of underwear...
>
> Mike: Uhhhhhhrrhgg... [looks at the "coffee" sickeningly, then takes another swig]
> Well, at least it beats Maxwell House... Hey, where's Crow?
>
> [Crow walks in. He appears to have gained some weight. Actually, he's just wearing
> a gold-painted trash bag filled with foam peanuts, but hey, it's a low budget show,
> ok?]
>
> Crow: Look at me, Mike! I miss *half* of my exercise session and now I look like
> *this!*
>
> Mike: Well, that just means there's more of you to love, Crow. [Mads light blinks]
> Oh hey, another early riser. Couldn't sleep either, Pearl?
>
> [A plain-looking office. Bookshelves line the walls. Pearl is sitting behind the
> desk, with a stack of papers in her hand.]
>
> Pearl: Oh hey, Mike, Tom, beach ball. I just wanted to tell you I landed a sweet
> new job as a freshman English teacher at the local junior college. From here I can
> control the young writing minds of America! I've been feeding them a straight diet
> of nothing but the worst Ratliffs, Gontermans, Dr. Thinkers... pretty soon I will
> have them writing awful fanfics, embarassing self-insertions, convoluted crossovers,
> raving conspiratorial rants... and then I, Pearl Forrester, will RULE THE WORLD!
>
> [SOL Bridge]
>
> Mike: Well, that's all fine and good, but doesn't a literature professor have to use
> actual *literature* in the curriculum?
>
> [Professor's Office of Doom]
>
> Pearl: That's the easy part, Mike, it's called *diversity*. Schools nowadays are
> more worried about not offending anybody than actually teaching students, so I can
> sneak in any crap I want into the classroom and they can't say a thing! Plus, some
> of these fanfic writers are so far from the mainstream, they might as well represent
> a different culture... hehehe... Anyway, I've started the kiddies writing essays
> about *themselves*... that should start them on the long road to that special kind of
> self-absorbtion and completely clueless attitude that separates the true fanfic
> masters from ... writers of great literature, or something. My TAs are grading the
> papers now.
>
> [The camera pans to a small table, where Bobo and Observer are sitting. The table is
> covered with stacks of papers reaching to the roof.]
>
> Observer: [rifling through an essay, grumbling] What is this? A past participle
> where a subjunctive gerund should be? Where did this individual learn to conjugate,
> for the sake of Pete? Don't the English teachers even teach English anymore?
>
> Bobo: [picks up an essay] Hoho, what's this? AAAAAHHHHHH!!!! [runs to a corner,
> shaking wildly]
>
> Pearl: [looks up] Hello, what have we here? [picks up Bobo's essay] Yes... yes...
> this is *perfect*... just the right mix of pretentiousness and vanity... coupled with
> an intense sense of sexual confusion and an inappropriately morbid sense of humor...
> [looks at Mike and the bots] Well, I was going to send you the latest Ratliff, but I
> think this will do much better. It's a tragic tale of love I like to call "Tommy",
> by one of my A+ students of evil. I'll expect a full draft revision and peer review,
> of course...
>
> [SOL Bridge]
>
> ALL: WE'VE GOT ENGLISH ESSAY SIGN!!!
>
> [Mike picks up Tom and scrambles into the theater]
>
> Crow: *huff, pant* Hey... wait up... *huff, wheeze* I'm not as *choke* spry as I
> used to be... *plop*
>
> [6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...]
>
> [THEATER. Tom and Mike take their usual spots.]
>
> > Final Draft—Essay 2
>
> Tom: Sylvester Stallone returns as an English teacher gone wrong in the action
> sequel "Final Draft: Essay 2!"
>
> [Crow waltzes in, back to his normal svelte self.]
>
> Mike: Hey, Crow, where'd all the weight go?
>
> Crow: Eh, I did a couple jumping jacks coming into the theater. I have a high
> metabolism, after all.
>
> > Jackson Mileur
>
> Bots: *screaming* No!!!! NO!!! Not him!!! Anything but him!! AAAAAHHH!
>
> Mike: What are you two yelling about? You've never even heard of this guy.
>
> Tom: Just setting the mood, Mike.
>
> > English 1A Sec. 12
>
> Crow: Can I Section 12 my way out of this story, Mike?
>
> Mike: I think that's Section 8, Crow, and no you can't. You'd have to be crazy.
>
> Crow: Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a roo--
>
> Mike: *clamps Crow's mouth shut, looming over him in frustration* What did I tell
> you about this the first 99 times???
>
> Crow: *slumps in his chair* I'll be good...
>
> > October 28, 1996
>
> Mike: A day which shall live in infamy!
>
> > Tommy
>
> Tom: Don't call me that!
>
> > In ninth grade I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.
>
> Crow: I had to read this story.
>
> > I was lonely, and very depressed.
>
> Mike: and this had nothing to do with the fact I'm a teenager.
>
> >I felt as though no one cared about
> > me—not even my parents. I was on the verge of suicide—until I met Tom.
>
> Mike and Crow: *look at Tom threateningly*
>
> Tom: Hey! Don't blame this on me!
> >
> > One day, my P.E. class was engaged
>
> Crow: To a P.E class in Korea in a mass Moonie wedding.
>
> >in the game of basketball.
>
> Crow: Oh.
>
> Tom: To dribble and to pass, to shoot and to score, till halftime do you part.
>
> Mike: But what would the children look like?
>
> > We had a substitute teacher,
>
> Tom: We've secretly replaced their teacher with Folger's Crystals. Let's see if
> anyone notices.
>
> > who just got the balls out for us
>
> Tom and Mike: *gasps* WHAAA?
>
> Crow: Say what you want about the teacher, he at least had--
>
> Mike: Crow!
>
> Crow: --an easy job that day.
>
> > and basically left us to our own devices. I was sitting on the sidelines,
> > bemoaning the fact that no one wanted me on their team.
>
> Tom: With much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I expect.
>
> > Overwhelmed by feelings of rejection and sadness, I started crying.
>
> Mike: The Home-ec class next door was cutting onions.
>
> > Tears washed down my face as I sunk lower and lower into the pits of
> > despair.
>
> Crow: [Monty Python guy] Hey look! it's the old man fron scene 35!
>
> > Then a warm, gentle hand rested on my shoulder
>
> Tom: Ah, thank you, Thing!
>
> > as a voice cried out,
>
> Mike: Take him to Pilate!
>
> Tom: Stop talking, Johnny Longbow!
>
> Crow: [Columbo] Just one more question...
>
> >"Are you okay?"
>
> Mike: [Jackson] Scroll up, you moron, and tell me what *you* think!
>
> Tom: The self-help book of the Nineties: "Are You Okay? Am I Okay?"
>
> > I looked up. I saw a boy, deeply tanned and fairly handsome,
> > looking down at me with two large, inquisitive amber-colored eyes.
>
> Tom: He was too beautiful to be human... I had to kill him.
>
> Crow: Tell me a girl wrote this! Tell me!
>
> > Shocked and afraid, I turned back my head.
>
> Crow: And vomited all over his shoes.
>
> > "What's the matter?" He slid to my left
>
> Tom: [Tommy] AAAAAAUGH!!! *crashes into wall*
>
> Mike: That'll teach him to not wear street shoes on the gym floor.
>
> > and sat down. "You look like you've lost your best friend or something."
>
> Crow: [Jackson] I am my best friend... and I hate myself!!!
>
> > "Uh... uh..." I stammered, trying to hold back the tears.
> > "I—well—you wouldn't understand..."
> >
> > "Try me."
>
> Tom: I've got a ninety-day warranty and a full money-back guarantee.
>
> > He smiled, revealing a dimple on his left cheek.
> >
> > "Well—It's just that—oh, I don't know!" I tried to tell him,
> > but the words held back, like refuse in a backed-up drain.
>
> Mike: Obviously the author truly values his own work.
>
> Crow: With beautiful imagery like *that*, how could he not?
>
> > "The guys—they—they didn't—nobody wanted me on their team—said I was no
> > good..."
>
> Mike: [Jackson] I'm so nerdy, they kicked me out of glee club!
>
> Crow: [Jackson] The D & D group won't even return my calls!
>
> Tom: [Jackson] At least I've got my Star Trek novels... *pets a model of the
> Enterprise* My precious...
>
> > "What? Those guys sure are jerks, aren't they? Why don't you
> > play with us?"
>
> Mike: Golly gee, it will sure be swell!
>
> > He gestured towards a group of boys standing on one of
> > the basketball courts.
> >
> > "Well—I'd like to—but..." I completely broke down. "I'd be—no
> > help--at all! I can't—don't know—how to--shoot the ball!"
>
> Tom: Well, what kind of gun are you using?
>
> > "Well, I can help you there," said he. "I'll show you how to
> > shoot like I do. Trust me—I'm on the basketball team."
>
> Tom: [Darth Vader] Join me. It is your destiny.
>
> > "Eh...why not?" All that crying had made me tired, but I dared
> > not refuse him. He helped me up to a standing position.
>
> Mike: This sentence brought to you by the Superflous Foundation.
>
> > "Your name's Jack, right? I saw you around church. My name's
> > Tom. Nice to meet you." He shook my hand.
>
> Crow: [Jackson] *gasp* He touched me!
>
> > Ah, so that's where I remember him from! At the behest of two
> > young men in suits, ties, and black name badges,
>
> Tom: Nazis?
>
> > my family had decided to go to their church after a long period of
> > religious inactivity. I saw Tom around church, but I was too shy to say
> > hello.
>
> Mike: Being that he was so... pretty... and all...
>
> > He took me aside to the court where his friends were. Tom said
> > that they were from his church, too. He introduced me to each of them,
>
> Tom: [Jackson] But I'm too wrapped up in myself to tell you their names.
>
> Crow: Just be grateful this wasn't a *Ratliff* introduction scene!
>
> > then he showed me how to shoot, by putting the shooting hand under the
>
> Tom: ...pillow, to muffle the shot!
>
> > ball and using the other hand as balance, tossing it high and slow. He
> > gestured for me to take a shot. After a few tries, I made a shot that
> > got into the basket! "Wow, great shot, Jack!"
>
> Crow: [Tom] If we were playing soccer...!
>
> > he exclaimed, patting me on the back.
>
> Mike: [Jackson] I was so elated I did not notice he put a "Kick Me" sign back there.
>
> > His friends cheered. Then we played a game of basketball. No one had actually
> > wanted me on their team before.
>
> Tom: Could the fact that you do nothing but moan and cry and whimper have anything
> to do with it?
>
> > But Tom chose me first. I felt so happy to actually have a friend.
>
> Mike: [Jackson] Too bad only I could see him.
>
> > Time passed, and I started seeing more of Tom.
>
> Crow: [Jackson] I stalked him secretly, watching him as he slept.
>
> > He guided me around church, telling me where I was supposed to be and what I was
> > supposed to do.
>
> Tom: [Jackson] Teaching me all the secret passwords...
>
> Mike: [Tom] No no no! Here, _this_ is how you sacrifice the goat!
>
> > He introduced me to a lot of people who were also very
> > friendly,
>
> Crow: [church person] Have some delicious Kool-Aid!
>
> > including his father, Bishop Warner.
>
> All: HELLOOOOOOO NURSE!
>
> Mike: He was later excommunicated for declaring Jesus his "special friend" and
> baptizing people with a bottle of seltzer water.
>
> Tom: [parishioner] When he read from the Wheel of Morality during his sermon, we
> knew it was time for him to go.
>
> > He shared with me his testimony of what he believed in.
>
> Crow: [child's voice] i'd like to bear my testimony i know the church is true i love
> my mommy and daddy in the name of jesus christ amen.
>
> Tom: *bursts into tears* That's so beautiful!
>
> > He discussed with me the many different points of Church doctrine.
>
> Mike: I'm sorry, could you explain again why an all-merciful and benevolent god
> allows suffering into the world?
>
> Crow: Yeah, and could you run by me the part in the Bible where it says Harry Potter
> and Pokemon are tools of Satan?
>
> Tom: And how *exactly* did Samson kill 10,000 Philistines with the jawbone of an
> ass? Wouldn't they wise up after he killed the first thousand or so and rework their
> battle strategy just a tad? And how did the jawbone's structural integrity hold
> after repeated beatings? Come on, inquiring minds want to know!
>
> > He even gave a speech when I got baptized.
>
> Mike: [Jackson] Of course I couldn't hear it, because I was under water at the time.
>
> > Tom was a real role model in every sense of the word. He was
> > the incarnate form of everything I wished to be.
>
> Crow: He was a girl?
>
> > He was highly active
> > in sports. In football, basketball, or baseball (you could play all
> > three in a school as small as mine) he always excelled, his muscular
> > yet graceful form
>
> Tom: What is this kid, a gazelle?
>
> > never failing to hit the home run, score the
> > touchdown, or shoot the 3-pointer from the end zone.
>
> Crow: [Jackson] In writing, I always excelled, never failing to mix my sports
> metaphors.
>
> > He held himself in a confident manner--no drooping down or shying away, like me.
>
> Mike: His finishing school posture lessons finally paid off.
>
> > He was popular among everyone, especially the ladies. He knew exactly how
> > to turn
>
> Tom: [Jackson] Me on.
>
> > them on.
>
> Tom: [Jackson] Oh of course... that's what I meant to say... oh, silly me... is it
> hot in here or is it just--aaaaaaahhh!!! *runs off*
>
> > He never lost his temper, even when things were at
> > their worst.
>
> Mike: Of course, today we'd call that *emotionally stunted*...
>
> Tom: [Michael Palin] Help, Help! I'm being Repressed!
>
> > He never swore or used foul language. He was always
> > helpful and kind. I know that he was always there when I needed him.
> > In a platonic, non-homosexual way, I loved Tom.
>
> Crow: *voice dripping with sarcasm* And I can't emphasize "non-homosexual"
> enough...
>
> (Bots chuckle)
>
> Mike: Now, now guys... don't laugh. Literature is replete of examples of the deep
> and completely non-sexual friendship that only two men can share. Well, what about
> David and Jonathan?
>
> Bots: *snicker*
>
> Mike: Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson? *trying to have himself heard through the
> bots' roaring guffaws* Um, Kirk and Spock? Frodo and Sam? Goofus and Gallant?
>
> Tom: *puts arm around Mike's shoulder* Mike, I think it's time we had a talk.
>
> Mike: *slumps in his chair* I give up. *sigh*
>
> > One night, I felt this feeling of love and admiration very
> > grandly.
>
> Tom: *bursts into song* It's a graaaaaand night! for singing....
>
> > Tom was like a god to me, almost.
>
> Mike: [Jackson] So I built an altar to him in my basement.
>
> Crow: [Jackson] I did get a little weirded out, though, when I started seeing his
> face on office buildings and garage doors...
>
> > I had to let him know how much of a difference he had made in my life.
> > However, I couldn't tell him straight out. I would choke on the words again.
>
> Tom: Autopsies later revealed a wad of letters stuck in his trachea.
>
> > I decided to write him a letter and tell him how I felt.
> > "Dear Tom..." I began. My emotions, already on overdrive,
> > spilled out on the paper, gushing from my hand like blood from a
> > punctured artery.
>
> All: EWWWWWWW!
>
> Mike: Hey, kid, why don't you leave the metaphors to the professionals? I don't
> think I can... *stomach* too many more of these.
>
> > I told him everything I thought him to be. It was
> > quite a long letter when I finished. I thought that a letter of this
> > magnitude should be delivered in person. The next day was Sunday, so I
>
> Crow: Skipped church and watched the Super Bowl instead.
>
> Tom: But only for the commercials.
>
> > could give it to him at church. So I folded my letter into a little
> > square and stuck it in my pocket.
>
> > After sacrament meeting, he came up to me and said hello. "Hi,
> > Tom!" I said. "Hey, listen—I have something for you."
>
> Crow: [Mae West] Is that a sappy gushy love letter in your pocket or are you just
> happy to see me?
>
> > "Really? What?"
>
> > I handed him my folded-up piece of paper. "You don't have to
> > read it now if you don't want."
>
> > "Gee, thanks, Jack." He put it in his pocket. "Uh, by the
> > way, Jack, could you clean up the chapel for me?
>
> Tom: She got a little dirty when Spock threw the soup at her.
>
> > It's my turn to do it, but I'm kind of busy somewhere else."
>
> Crow: [Tom] Oh, and I'm sleeping with your girlfriend, is that ok?
>
> > "Would I?" I jumped at the chance at helping my friend.
>
> Tom: [Tom] Hey wait, you didn't ask me 'how high' yet!
>
> Mike: [Jackson] *bang, crash* So _that's_ what the second floor looks like...
>
> > "Okay!"
>
> > "Thanks, Jack; you're a lifesaver."
>
> Crow: [Jack] So why don't you put me in your--
>
> Mike: *holding Crow's mouth shut* [Darth Vader] Don't make me destroy you.
>
> > I picked up the trash in the chapel as quickly as I could, and
> > then I thought that the chapel could use a good sweeping. I went to
> > the janitorial closet down the hall to grab the broom. As I passed
> > through the hall, I could hear voices coming out of a classroom.
>
> Tom: [Jackson] 'If you build it, he will come?' What the hell is that supposed to
> mean?
>
> > "You are the best friend I have ever had," I heard someone say
> > in an uproarious, mocking tone. "You are the nicest person I have
> > ever had the pleasure of knowing! Ha ha ha!"
>
> Mike: [Tom] Ha ha ha ha ha... he thinks I'm a nice guy... what a laugh riot!
>
> > Wait a minute there! That sounds like my letter!
> >
> > "You are the sunshine in my rainy day!
>
> Tom: [Emma Bunton] It makes my soul drip, drip, drip away...
>
> Crow: Oh, just like this story does...
>
> > I never feel complete without you!"
> >
> > Huh? What's going on here?
>
> Tom: That's what *we'd* like to know.
>
> > As this guy read off my heart and
> > soul, I wondered where was Tom to permit this to happen.
> >
> > My question was answered.
>
> Mike: Oh, so that's how many angels can dance on the head of a pin!
>
> Crow: Oh, so that's why hot dogs come in packages of ten and hot dog buns come in
> packages of eight!
>
> Tom: Oh, so that's how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop!
>
> > "And it gets better," Tom said. "Go down to the last paragraph."
>
> Crow: Flip to the *lemon scene*... heh heh...
>
> > "Because of you, I have had the strength to keep on going. I
> > love you!" Tom's buddy sounded shocked. "Ooooooh, Tommy!"
>
> Tom: [Tom's friend] Oooooh, you have a girlfriend! Um, this was from a... girl,
> right?
>
> > I couldn't believe my ears. After all the nice things he's
> > done—
>
> Mike: [Jackson] Like making me do his chores and stuff...
>
> > how could he stab me in the back like this? I threw down the broom
> > and ran home crying.
>
> Crow: Unfortunately, home was twelve miles away.
>
> > The next day, I did my best to avoid Tom. The very sight of
> > him was like pouring salt on my open, festering wounds.
>
> (All gulp disgustedly)
>
> Tom: Man, this kid has missed his calling... he should be a... a... greeting card
> writer, or something...
>
> Crow: Yeah, if you're selling to the Addams Family.
>
> > I managed to elude his detection for most of the day,
>
> Mike: [Jackson] Wearing my tinfoil beanie to block his mind rays.
>
> > until the end of school. On the bus, he came and sat down right beside me.
> >
> > "Hey, Jack, what happened?" he said. "I thought we were going
> > to play some basketball at lunch today."
> >
> > "You read my letter out loud," I mumbled sullenly.
>
> Mike: [Jackson] How dare you read letters addressed to you!
>
> > "Huh? Oh. Jack, about your letter..."
>
> Tom: [Tom] Tell me you were high when you wrote this. Or at least drunk? Please?
>
> > "What are you going to say about it now?" I yelled, unable to
> > control my rage. "That I'm nuts, that I'm a faggot?
>
> Crow: *snickers* You said it, not me.
>
> > Or maybe you're
> > going to read it in front of the whole school this time?"
>
> > The bus fell strangely silent. I could feel heads turning
> > around. I shrunk back.
>
> Tom: To a size five after taking some strange diet pills.
>
> Crow: I was sure they would work! They cost $153 a bottle!
>
> > "Jack, well..." Tom scratched his head, running his fingers
> > through his wavy brown hair. "Oh. About yesterday... Well, it's just
> > that I had trouble understanding what you were saying in the letter..."
>
> Mike: [yokel] 'Cause it had all these "words" and stuff...
>
> > "Uh-huh." I was not convinced.
>
> > "Uh...Oh, Jack, those were the nicest things that anyone's ever
> > said to me!"
>
> Crow: [Tom] Let's get married!
>
> > Tears were rolling down his cheeks. He was crying! My
> > anger disappeared. Then, almost instinctively, we met in a warm
> > embrace, squeezing each other for what seemed like a long time,
>
> Tom: ...until we asphyxiated each other, the two of us falling dead in each other's
> arms...
>
> Mike: That's kind of dark, Tom.
>
> Tom: *smiles* Why, thank you, Mike! I do try.
>
> > but was really only a few seconds. However, noticing the crowd of eyes that
> > had gathered around us, we quickly separated.
>
> Mike: Hey, who summoned all these Beholders in here?
>
> > Regaining his composure, Tom continued. "But, Jack... I'm no
> > god. There's only one God in this world, and I'm not him."
>
> Crow: Aerosmith is God! Didn't you know that?
>
> > "That's okay," I said. "You don't have to be a god. Just a friend.
>
> Mike: [Jackson] I guess you won't be helping me with my "turning water into wine"
> science project, will you?
>
> Tom: *livid* So he writes him a lovey-dovey letter, they have a big emotional
> embrace, and then he "just friends" him? What the hell? I thought only immature
> teenage girls...
>
> Crow: The author *is* a teenage girl, Servo. She has to be... It's the only
> possible explanation.
>
> > So, Tom, are you up for some hoops tomorrow?"
> >
> > "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
>
> Tom: I don't shoot to *miss*... guwahahahaha!
>
> > THE END
>
> Mike: Let's get out of here, you guys. *picks up Tom and they leave the theater*
>
> [1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...]
>
> [SOL Bridge. Tom and Crow are off to stage right, holding papers in their hands.
> Mike walks in.]
>
> Mike: Hey, fellas, what'cha up to?
>
> Tom: Well, Mike, we got so inspired by plucky young letter-writing hero in the story
> that we've decided to write love letters--to *each other!*
>
> Crow: In a completely platonic, non-homosexual, just friends, nothing-even-barely-
> resembling-feelings-of-any-sort kind of way, of course.
>
> Mike: *chuckling* Of course.
>
> Tom: Crow, you are like a god to me. I insist that you start first.
>
> Crow: Well, ok. "Dear Servo... I think you're pretty keen, for a self-absorbed,
> squat fire hydrant at any rate. You're the best friend that any robot could have, if
> they didn't care too much about your body odor and utter lack of good taste. In
> fact, I care for you so much, that if you were being torn apart by a pack of wild
> hyenas, I would tape your grisly death and sell it to Fox, so that everybody could
> know about you, my favorite spitoon in the whole wide world, and all-around perfect
> paperweight, Tom Servo. Yours Truly, Crow T. Robot."
>
> Tom: *sniff* Oh, Crow... That was so *beautiful*! I never knew you cared for me
> so... deeply!!! *squeak* I'd hug you if I had working arms...
>
> Crow: Uh, ooookay... I'm glad you, um, liked it... even if the overlying subtext was
> intended to... oh, never mind, what about your letter?
>
> Tom: Anything for you, pal! "Dear Crow... My admiration for you is like a ring of
> rusty barbed wire encircling my heart, bleeding crimson drops of love from my
> pulsating left ventricle. I cannot live without your presence, which thrills me and
> fills me like the smell of putrefying flesh, coming from a gangrenous, maggot-ridden
> corpse. When you are near me, I just come apart, much like the necrotic limbs of a
> pus-filled leper. Indeed, you are on me so deeply, you are like a case of genital--"
>
> Mike: Well, I think that's about enough of that... *nervous chuckle* Why don't
> we... uhm... see... what's going on down on the planet... how're your pen-powered
> protégés, Professor Pearl?
>
> [Back to the office, which is now packed up in boxes.]
>
> Pearl: Mike, it's horrible! The faculty kicked me out of school... something about
> my credentials, or something...
>
> Observer: This would have never happened if you hadn't gotten your English degree
> from "Crazy Eddie's College of Literature and Bait Shop," Pearl...
>
> Pearl: Oh, shut up, Brain-load! [Points to the huge stack of essays still on the
> table] But I still have *these!* So there will be many more experiments where this
> one came from!
>
> [SOL Bridge]
>
> Tom: Aaaugh... this situation is like a fetid mass of bloody--
>
> Mike: *cradling Tom in his arms* Oh, Tom... I'm sure that whatever irreversable
> psychological damage the story gave you today will be all gone and forgotten by the
> next experiment... I promise.
>
> Tom: *sobs* You really mean it?
>
> Mike: Sure, that's how it works on television. *bang, crash* Ah, not again! damn
> pesky fourth wall...
>
> [The ex-Professor's Office of Doom]
>
> Pearl: Eh, we're out of here. Bobo, could you be a dear and fetch that stack of
> papers for me, please?
>
> Bobo: Would I? Okay! [Bobo picks up the immense stack of papers, then realizes
> the intense weight and height of the stack... and he collapses in a pile of essays.]
> Ohhh, Lawgiver... is this love, or just a fractured vertebra?
>
> [The End.]
>
> All MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 related characters, trademarks and related indicia
> copyright (c) Best Brains Inc. "Tommy" is copyright (c) 1996 by Jackson Mileur, and he
> shouldn't mind too much, because he's me. This MiSTing is copyright (c) 2003 River
> City Random and Typewriter Monkey. All rights reserved. Offer void in Utah.
>
> ----------------------------------------------
>
> > My emotions, already on overdrive, spilled out on the paper, gushing from my hand
> > like blood from a punctured artery.
>
>
> --