MSTing "Name of the Game" Pt 8 of 8
Brendan Herlihy
>
> --------
>
>She decided that full disclosure wasn't really necessary, and what
> really was a half hour more or less?
MADGE: Hm... He left at 9, she said 3:30...
SCRATCH: It's the eighteen-and-a-half minute gap, squared!
>It was true, she did pass out on the couch,
>but not right after getting in the door.
SCRATCH: There were some offerings to the ceramic goddess, if you follow my
insinuations.
>She'd checked Amelia's room,
>saying her roommate might be in or might not be in, and when she saw it
>was empty offered to make coffee.
PEARL (Alexa, seductively): I keep the coffee over here- in the boudoir.
>If Amelia had been in -- she would have had
>to try something different.
MADGE (slyly): Kin-ky!
>She was pouring the beans in the grinder when
>he came up behind her in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her,
PEARL (wrestling announcer): He's setting her up for the suplex!
SCRATCH (same): Yes, but what's this? It's her evil twin Amelia! She's
creeping out of the closet- she's got a chair! She's got a metal folding
chair! Oh, this is trouble, folks!
>under
>her arms , and buried his face in her hair.
SCRATCH (as Alexa): Yeah, yeah, look Dracula, I'm trying to percolate here!
PEARL (up to Scratch): You can't really do voices, can you.
SCRATCH: Well- I mean, I'm new at this. Give me some time.
PEARL: Time? Don't you get it, you reject from a Land Called Honolee? I am
NOT a Day's Inn! You're compressing my spinal column!
SCRATCH: You're an invocation late for regrets, baby.
PEARL: Where the hell's the Shop Vac got to?!
>
>She dropped the beans, which went scattering and wrapped her arms
>around his,
MADGE: Coffee beans have arms?
> then turned to face him, curling her hair behind her ears.
PEARL (sings as Folgers commercial): The best, paaart of gettin' drunk!
>They stared
>at each other a minute more, like they had on the dance floor,
SCRATCH (as Donna Summers): Last da-a-ance... last cha-a-ance -
PEARL (threatens Scratch with newspaper): Stop it now!
SCRATCH (head drooping): Yes ma'am.
>and then he
>bent down to her and they started kissing. It was slower this time, but
>the urgency was still there.
MADGE (Logan): Oh, baby. I'm going take you on the floor and... oh,
Seattle's Best! That's hard to get out here!
> On hers his lips soft and wet pushed into her
>until she bent back on the counter. Her stomach began to quiver and she
>tried to imagine what Amelia would have done,
PEARL (Amelia): Well, I think the first incision would be made HERE...
SCRATCH: Pillow fight!
>and doing so led him out to
>the living room sofa, where without a beat they continued their
>kissing.
MADGE: Oh, "without a beat". Her Thelonius Monk album's on.
>Her hands reached up to his hair, something she thought at first he'd
>had too much of, but now it felt thick and beautiful under her hands.
SCRATCH (as Logan): Oh, Amelia! I've loved you from the moment I thought I
could bop you!
>He laid
>her back against the pillows on the couch
PEARL: NO shoes on the couch, young man! This is real leather!
>and she pulled his shirt out from
>his pants, running her hands against his back. They kept manipulating
>their positions,
ALL (awkwardly): Oo! Ouch! Ow!
PEARL (Alexa): Let me-
MADGE (Logan): Watch the elbow.
PEARL (Alexa): I'm trying, but your knee is just right in my diaphragm!
>more or less clothed the whole time,
SCRATCH: -until she was more or less pregnant.
>until they were both
>seated, her with her legs across his lap, folded into the crook of his
>arm, taking long, deep breaths.
Gypsy pops up from beneath the seats.
GYPSY: EAT DEATH, HAND OF BAALZEBUB!
SCRATCH: Oh, snacks! Great! You got- AUGH!
Gypsy has opened her mouth to reveal a super soaker inside, which shoots a
stream of liquid at Scratch. Pearl shrieks, as, by extension, she is also
soaked.
>He was brushing her hair down with his hand as
>she nuzzled against his chest.
>
PEARL (furiously shaking stuff of her arms): Eww! Yuk! What IS this stuff?
Holy water?
GYPSY: Powerade. Same general idea, though.
SCRATCH: Ew, it's gonna dry and I'm gonna be all sticky!
>"What was that," she said quietly, a little shaken by the
> instantaneousness of her reaction.
MADGE: Oh, disorientation, regret, ennui. All part of riding the wild
Logan!
GYPSY (to Scratch): So you're not banished to limbo, then?
SCRATCH: Hey, wish I could. Minerva here cast a spell of binding, and I'm
stuck as her familiar.
PEARL: Hey, wait, familiar? You mean- you have to SERVE me?
SCRATCH: In three letters? Yup.
>
>He didn't answer at first, then, "Maybe more of what we were wanting to
>do in the hallway."
MADGE (Alexa): What, ring all the doorbells and run?
PEARL (to Scratch): Well why didn't you say so in the first place?
SCRATCH (to Gypsy): OK. Should I assume stupid questions are the norm here?
GYPSY: In three letters?
PEARL: Hey! Get off my head, FAMILIAR!
SCRATCH (sighing, spreading his wings and flying to an open seat):
Spoilsport.
GYPSY (watching Scratch fly): Woo. Pretty.
>
>She looked up at him and he half smiled, and she ran her finger over
>his lips, then cupped his jaw,
MADGE: Reared her fist back, and laid'em out like a yearbook!
>and they kissed once, twice, sanely.
GYPSY: With those two, that's an oxymoron!
> "You can't
>stay," she said, and then surprised herself by yawning. It was back.
ALL: Huh? What?
SCRATCH: Did Stephen King write a sequel?
>
>He nodded. "I had a feeling that was coming."
>
>She shook her head and stifled another yawn. She was good for maybe ten
>minutes more, and then she knew, from experience, she'd be out like a
>light.
MADGE: She passes out on a punchclock?
PEARL: You know, it's sad when Germans get drunk.
>She'd have to be brief. "I'm not going to be just a quick fuck for
>you to laugh to your partner about, Detective Mike," she said quietly.
MADGE: Yeah, knowing Montague it'd go on for at least twelve pages.
>"I might not even be a fuck at all for you."
>
>He sighed, a big long breath. "Oh, really. And how do you figure that."
GYPSY (sighing): There he goes, turning on the charm again.
SCRATCH: Well, look at it this way guys. If couples like this didn't breed,
where would the next generation of frat boys come from?
PEARL: Oh, big yuks from the lackey! Go get pretzels.
SCRATCH: Say please.
Pearl threatens with the newspaper. Scratch droops his head.
SCRATCH (from Amos and Andy): OK, Kingfish.
Scratch grumbles and leaves the theater.
GYPSY: Woo. Kinda harsh, Pearl.
PEARL: Why thank you! I try.
>
>"I mean that I don't sleep with anyone, not yet anyway, and I hardly
> think I'm going to throw it all away on someone else's idea of a one
> night stand."
MADGE: I'm going to throw it away on an aging billionaire!
>
>"You haven't done this before?" it rushed out, all at once, and he
> stared at her.
PEARL: If you believe in virgins, clap your hands!
>
>It was the truth, it was some other part of Alexa he now knew. "I've
>done this," she told him, and thumped him on the chest. "I just haven't
>done that, if you know what I mean."
GYPSY (Logan): D'oh, I was told this wouldn't be on the test! No fair!
>
>"So what if I was planning on just sleeping with you and never calling
> you again?"
>
>She felt her eyes droop. "Then....you should probably go now."
>
PEARL: <Knock Knock> Um, this is Trojan Man? Am I late for the commercial?
>Later on, Mike told her how he hadn't really been thinking on it one
>way or the other,
MADGE: Logan's got burning intelligence the way Nero had a burning empire.
>that the idea of sleeping with someone who had more money than
>he would make in his lifetime was actually the reason he had come to
>the dance, but there had always been more, that x factor,
GYPSY: Oo, makeup!
MADGE: No, that's Max Factor, Gyps.
> the feeling that all
>wasn't as it seemed, a danger to the liaison, that really spurred him
>on.
PEARL (Michael Douglas): I'm gonna figure you out, lady!
>It was that x factor that made him pause right there. It made her more
>appealing in ways he couldn't describe.
ALL sigh, wearily and disgustedly.
MADGE: It's people like this who are the engine of your tattoo-based
economies.
>Suddenly he hugged her fiercely and
>kissed the top of her head,
GYPSY (Logan): I love your dandruff so much!
>and sat quietly like that until she fell
>asleep, which wasn't long.
PEARL: Would've been sooner if he'd kept talking.
>When her breathing grew warm and regular on his
>chest he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom she hadn't
>checked for roommate presence in earlier,
MADGE: Is roommate presence like that afghan presence she talked about
earlier?
PEARL: Yeah, the cheap knock-off version you find at K-mart.
>and laid her down gently on the bed,
>removing her shoes, and pulling a light sheet over her legs.
MADGE (Logan): Um... now I lay her down to sleep... I pray the lord... don't
see what I did with her panties.
>By then it was
>already four in the morning, and he knew he was skunked for work, so he
>laid next to her and propped his head up on his hand, watching her
>sleep,
GYPSY: Which is marginally less interesting than Good Morning America.
>and curled up, watching her until he himself fell asleep.
>
>When he woke up the clock told him it was already 9:10, and he peeled
>himself back from her carefully,
MADGE: Make sure you get the pith. It's bitter.
Scratch flies in, carrying a cloth bag in his talons. He drops the bag in
front of Pearl.
SCRATCH: Your pretzels, mein fuhrer. (He lands back on her head.)
PEARL: Took ya long enough. (pops one in her mouth)
SCRATCH: Yeah, baked'em myself. With my own body heat.
Pearl does a spit take with the pretzel.
PEARL, GYPSY, and MADGE: EW! UGH! YUK!
>splashing some water on his face in the
>bathroom, and left a note on her pillow with his number. Let's go
>dancing again, he'd written, and signed it Detective Mike.
MADGE (Logan): P.S. I borrowed some eggs, your Watchman, and a pair of dress
shields. I'll explain later.
GYPSY (to Scratch): Why would you SAY something like that?
SCRATCH: Well, I am a dragon. I do belch flames at oven-like temperatures,
you know.
PEARL (disgusted, holding a pretzel up to examine it): What ARE these
things? What's with the shape?
SCRATCH: Oh, I thought pretzel shapes were boring, so I made them in the
shape of souls you have tortured as you passed through life! See? That
one's Ms. Shechter, the grade school librarian you shot with rubber bullets.
PEARL (gradually recognizing): Oh, yeah! The orphan widower with the cane
and anemia and the heart problem.
MADGE: You SHOT a librarian?
PEARL (defensive): Not in the face! There was no visible scarring. She
recovered. Lay off. (eats the pretzel) Mm, salty.
> She'd like that, women
>liked that stuff.
MADGE: You know, that whole note-leaving, Weight Watchers, Evelyn and
Crabtree kind of crap.
>Then he'd let himself out and downed four cups of coffee
>before he made it to his desk forty minutes late.
SCRATCH: Then got up from his desk, came back, got up again...
>
>Part One, continued
>
PEARL, MADGE, and SCRATCH (crying): Oh-ho-ho, NOOOOOOO!!!
GYPSY (moving out of the theater): No, it's OK guys. We're done. That's a
wrap.
PEARL (getting up to leave): Oh, thank god!
SCRATCH: Whew! Thank the other guy!
GYPSY: So could this fanfic have a point, ya think? I mean, could the
criminal justice system be divided into the police who investigate the
crime, the district attorney who prosecutes the offenders, and the
profligate band gypsy who blunders in and screws it all up?
MADGE: Ahhhh... I'm not seeing it, Gyps.
GYPSY: Oo.
SCRATCH (to Pearl): So it's cool that I'm on your head now, right?
PEARL: Mmmmmmmaybe.
/ * \... = 2 =... > 3 <... [ 4 ]... ( 5 )... | 6 |...
OPEN ON: Bridge of SOL. Pearl, with Scratch back on her head, is tired and
pissed.
PEARL: That was the worst posting we've ever done.
MADGE: It's the only posting you've ever done.
SCRATCH: I liked that part at the end.
PEARL: What?
SCRATCH: Well, you know. Where it stopped.
Pearl and Madge grudgingly agree when Gypsy lunges in from the left.
GYPSY: Ship coming in off the port bow! Cambot, give me rocket number nine!
PEARL (confused): Satellites don't have rockets.
MADGE: Shh!
INSERT: An exact duplicate of the SOL, painted a dark grey, floats next to
the SOL.
GYPSY: My stars- it looks exactly like the Satellite of Love!
ANGLE ON: Hexfield irising open, showing ANOTHER Mary Jo smiling broadly in
a sunhat and Hawaiian shirt on the bridge of another SOL.
PEARL: Aw, crap. It's my GOOD twin!
TRIXIE: Aloha, Pearl! Nice hat!
SCRATCH: Thanks!
PEARL: Trixie! What are YOU doin' here?
TRIXIE: I sold wrapping paper to help raise money for Edgar's kids at
school! As a reward, he invited me to spend a week in his Skylab of
Lingering Resentment! I don't really get the name, frankly.
SCRATCH: Who's Edgar?
TRIXIE: Evil Mike's twin.
GYPSY (happy): Mike! It's Mike! She knows Mike!
TRIXIE: Oh, no, dear. No. Mike is Evil Mike in a parallel universe. Edgar
is Evil Mike's twin.
SCRATCH: Evil Mike has an evil twin?
TRIXIE: No.
GYPSY: Then who's Edgar?
SCRATCH: And who are YOU?
MADGE: Hush, she's Pearl's twin!
TRIXIE: No, actually I'm Pearl in a parallel universe.
PEARL: Wait- we're not related?
TRIXIE: Well, in a cosmic sense.
PEARL: Then why do you chip in for a Mother's Day gift every year?
TRIXIE: It seemed so important to you.
PEARL: Jeez, there's bein' good, and there's bein' a doormat, Trix!
SCRATCH (stretching neck to Pearl): So this is your antibody?
PEARL: No, Evil Mike is my antibody.
SCRATCH: But I thought he was MIKE'S antibody!
GYPSY: No, Trixie is Mike's antibody!
MADGE: Trixie is Pearl in a parallel universe!
SCRATCH: Then how does she know Evil Mike?!
TRIXIE: I know his twin!
GYPSY (happy): Mike!
TRIXIE, PEARL, AND MADGE (exasperated): NO!!!
SCRATCH (to Cambot, hopelessly confused): Pat? I'd like to buy a vowel?
Light flashes.
PEARL: Oh, hold on. Maybe Edgar McCarthy can straighten this out. (Pearl
hits the light.)
CUT TO: The House of Pain. Evil Mike is VERY angry.
EVIL MIKE: I- AM NOT- MY TWIN- BROTHER!
Suddenly from the right ANOTHER Michael J. Nelson walks in, cool and cocky,
with a shaved head, a backwards cap, Ray-Bans, oversized jeans, lots of
rings and gold chains, and a Twins baseball shirt.
EDGAR: Hey, you're telling me and the whole neighborhood, man. Tone it down
to eleven, OK?
EVIL MIKE (annoyed): Eddie! I told you to call first!
EDGAR: Oh. Um, not my fault. I was in a tunnel, man. (covers ears,
pretends static) Kkkkkkkkkkk!
EVIL MIKE: Eddie, you came by shuttlecraft.
EDGAR: I know, but-
EVIL MIKE: You can't MAKE a tunnel in space. What would you take out?
EDGAR (looks into camera): Hey! A satellite of prisoners! Pretty cool.
CUT TO: SOL
PEARL: Hey! I thought you were the GOOD twin.
CUT TO: House of Pain.
EDGAR: Hey, naw, baby. I'm the COOL twin. This is Mister Uptight here.
NICE MIKE (from offscreen): NOW!
Bobo, Mike, Brain Guy, and the Bots let loose a battlecry as they charge
from the shadows holding a cargo net. Without even looking behind him, Evil
Mike wearily takes a ray gun from his belt and shoots them. Their battlecry
transmutes to a groan of defeat as all our heroes freeze in place, stopped
in the act of trying to throw the net over Evil Mike.
EDGAR (jaw dropping): Lord God KING Uptight!
MIKE (frozen mouth): Um... that coulda gone better.
CROW (his eyes are missing): I closed my eyes. Did we win?
TOM (sarcasm): Oh, sure, Crow! This is what WINNING feels like!
BOBO (happily analytical): Now, to me, this feels more like, oh, humiliating
defeat! With a tinge of dread, and just the slightest hint of impending
doom!
OBSERVER (grumbling): I swear, the minute I can reach my brain, his head is
a pickle.
Evil Mike casually walks offstage to a dark, sparse, utilitarian area with
cinderblock wall, stage ropes and a ladder in the background. The camera
follows.
EVIL MIKE: And it is at this vaguely awkward moment that we end our
broadcast day. Is Edgar really my brother? What fate lies in store for
Mike? Speed? Racer X? And could Best Brains ever really afford the
high-tech processing shots needed to put me in three roles at once?
EDGAR (poking head in from left): Ooh, that's a toughie.
EVIL MIKE: For the answer to these questions, or not, tune in to the next
exciting episode of, "Mystery Science Theater, 3000!"
EDGAR: 3000 reflects price after manufacturer's mail-in rebate. Odds of
winning dependent on number of entries received. Sorry, no C.O.D.'s!
EVIL MIKE (grinning evilly): Shoot'em, Edgar!
EDGAR (smiling, pointing a ray gun at the camera): Man, nothin' beats a
payin' gig!
Edgar pulls the trigger. We hear a sound like a slamming bank vault in an
echo chamber, as white light from the gun engulfs the screen, flashes, and
we FADE to black.
EVIL MIKE (voice over black): Paying?
----------
Episode Q103: "Name of the Game"
Writers
Brendan Herlihy
with: Steve Weinberg
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its characters Copyright 1999 Best
Brains, Inc.
Law and Order and its characters Copyright 1999 Dick Wolf Productions.
"Name of the Game" Copyright 1999 Kit Montague.
"Teamwork" Copyright 1998 Eddie Delaney Jr.
This work is not meant as a personal attack on Kit Montague or Eddie Delaney
Jr., and is for entertainment purposes only.
For more information on Pearl, Evil Mike, and how this whole stupid plot got
started, consult your local library. After they throw you out, search
alt.tv.mst3k.mstings for the premiere episodes of this atrocity: "Windmills
of the Gods", "Bloodlines: The Calling", and "An Open Window Observing the
Battleground".
Thanks!
Da Lemming (Steve Weinberg to the unwashed masses).
Bruce Neiger, for his help with the Patti Duke reference.
Ted, Mimi, and little Timothy Robert Yen
All you MSTers coast-to-coast.
Executive Producer
Brendan Herlihy
peasporr...@hotmail.com
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" Oh my God, what the hell
is going on," Laura shrieked
as she walked in!
Copyright 1999 Brendan Herlihy
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