[MiSTied] 'The Greatest Gift of All,' part 1
bookw...@my-dejanews.com
with shorts 'UCE: Y2K SURVIVAL'
and 'About Golf Balls'
MiSTied by Sarah Heiner.
Miracle of miracles. I've finished another MiSTing. Hopefully this get more
ratings than 'Encounters,' which has 2 so far. Standard, sub-standard, and
not-so-standard disclaimers at the end. Please send comments,
congratulations, or critiques to hei...@asu.edu.
[Season 8 theme--this MiSTing takes place between 'Space Mutiny' and 'Time
Chasers.']
[Instead of door sequence, we fade in and see Mike, Tom, Crow, Pearl, Bobo,
and Observer huddled together behind a giant computer. Sounds of laser fire
can be heard. Mike turns to the camera.]
Mike: Oh, hi folks. I guess I should explain what's going on. No--is too
long. Let me sum up. After leaving Rome and going through the
wormhole, we found ourselves orbiting this weird dead planet. Since
these three [he gestures to Pearl, Bobo, and Observer] were too scared to
explore it on their own-- Pearl: That's not true! We just wanted you
to draw off any potential native threats. Why do you think I made the
three of you wear those red shirts? Mike: Anyway, she brought us
[gestures to Tom and Crow]--and Cambot-- down with them in the minibus.
But no sooner did we start to explore these strange underground caverns,
then a couple of cops started firing laser pistols at us! Tom: The
computer bank is absorbing a hell of a lot of energy--I think it's
about to blow! Mike: They seem to think we've got someone called Zaphod
something-or-other with us. So now we're trapped behind this computer
bank, and it looks as though our deaths are imminent. Pearl: Why the photon
don't you *do* something, Brain Guy? [smacks him upside the head]
Observer: I *told* you, my race is pacifist! I didn't break that taboo on
the camping planet, why should I do it now? Bobo: Maybe because
you're a big dodo-head who isn't as all-powerful as he'd like us to
believe! Observer: What?! Why, of all the unmitigated-- Tom: Look, I hate to
say this, lads, but this thing really is going to blow up! Bobo and Observer:
Okay, okay...
[As Cambot switches to spaghetti-ball bumper, a tremendous explosion is
heard.]
[Commercials]
[Cambot fades in on the lobby of an evidently fancy restaurant--tasteful
decor, beautiful plants, jazz trio playing softly, the whole bit. Pan to
our heroes standing in a group, holding their heads (those who have working
arms, at least) and groaning. A tuxedoed waiter, looking rather like Jim
Mallon, enters.]
Pearl: Oh, my *head.*
Waiter #1: Good evening, madam. Gentlemen. Err...others. Have you a
reservation?
Tom: Reservation?
Waiter #1: Yes, sir.
Tom: You need a reservation for the afterlife?
Waiter #1: Afterlife, sir?
Mike: This *is* the afterlife, isn't it?
Tom: Well, I assume so. I mean, there's no way we could have survived that
blast, is there?
Mike: None at all.
Crow: I certainly didn't. I was a total goner. Wham, bang, and that was it.
Tom: We didn't stand a chance! We must have been blown to bits! Arms,
legs, robot parts everywhere!
[Others]: Yeah!
Waiter #1 [clears throat]: If you would care to order drinks before--
Crow: Kapow! Splat! And here we are, lying dead--
Pearl: Standing.
Crow: Standing dead in this desolate--
Mike: Restaurant.
Crow: Standing dead in this...
Mike: Five-star...
Crow: Restaurant...
Tom: Bit odd, isn't it?
[Bobo wanders over to a plant.]
Bobo: Nice decor, though. [He picks some sort of insect off the plant and
eats it.] Mmmm, yummy! Observer: Oh, stop eating for one moment, you
Erysichthon! Bobo: Hey! I don't know what that means, but I don't like it!
Tom: It's not so much an afterlife, more a sort of apres-vie. Pearl: Hold it!
I think we're missing something important, something someone just
said. Bobo: About the plants? Pearl: No, you idiot! Something *really*
important! Hey, hey, you... [snaps her fingers at the waiter] Waiter
#1: Madam? Pearl: Did you say something about...drinks? Waiter #1: Certainly,
madam. If you or the gentlemen would care to order drinks before
dinner... [All]: Hey, yeah... Waiter #1: And the universe will be exploding
for your pleasure later. Crow: Wow! What sort-- Pearl [looking at watch]:
Hey, let's speed this scene up, huh? I'm starving! Mike: Me too. Bobo: I'm
not! [He continues to eat insects off of the plant.] Observer: All right,
then, let's see...I believe I have "sussed" it...this must be
Milliway's...no, Mike, this isn't the afterlife...that wasn't a
computer, it was a hyper-spatial field generator...and yes, we've
traveled in time but not in space. Everyone on the same page now? Good.
Let's eat!
[Pearl, through Observer's speech, takes the waiter aside and whispers to him.
She hands him a wad of what looks like money.]
Waiter #1: Certainly, madam. We have the facilities for that.
[Waiter #1 beckons to another waiter, who looks like Brad Keeley. He turns to
Mike.]
Waiter #1: If you would follow this waiter, sir, he will take you to an area
more suitable for your friends. [He turns to Pearl.] And if you
will follow me, madam...
[Pearl, Observer, and Bobo follow Waiter #1. As they walk off, we hear:]
Pearl: So, waiter, does this place have any gambling facilities?
Waiter #2: This way, sir.
[Waiter #2 leads Mike and the bots into a dark room, then slips out. The
lights come up and we see...theater seats and a large screen!]
[All]: Gaaah!
Mike: What gives?
[Pearl's voice suddenly comes over a PA speaker.]
Pearl: Haha, got you again, Nel-stick-in-the-mud! I'm determined to have a
great time here, and I don't want to have to worry about you trying to
escape. Don't worry about starving--there's an adjoining room you can
go to for your breaks, and I'll send you some of my leftovers.
Mike: This *can't* be happening!
Crow: Sorry, Mike, I just tried the door. It's locked!
Tom: Guess we'll just have to suffer through this. It's our lot in life.
[They sit down in the theater seats.]
Pearl: Your appetizer is a nice, nebulous little piece of spam about the Year
2000 problem. Bon appe-puke!
Bobo: Oh, Lawgiver, can I really order *anything* off the children's menu?
[Lights go down, and text scrolls up on the screen.]
> From mar...@i-mark.org Tue Jul 21 09:19:42 1998
Crow: I-Crow.robot.
> Date: Tue, 16 Jun 1998 01:53:54
> From: mar...@i-mark.org
> Subject: UCE: Y2K SURVIVAL -- Double-Solution (Worldwide)
[All sing]: A double solution's waitin' for you...
[Tom whistles.]
>
>
>
> EXPERTS FEAR GLOBAL DISASTER:
Tom: Yes, you can only fear a global disaster if you're a highly-qualified
expert.
Crow: Amateurs start out by fearing a local inconvenience.
> Ripple Effect May Cause Cascade Failure.
Mike: No more sheeting action? Oh, the humanity!
>
>
> Not worried about the Millenium Bug?
Tom: Naah. I got immunized last week.
> The date code error
Crow: Someone didn't watch 'What to Do on a Date.'
> that threatens to create a scenario more frightening
> than
Crow: Alien invasion?
Mike: Asteroid impact?
Tom: Michael Douglas going postal?
> the Great Depression throughout the world?
>
> The only people who aren't worried about it are those who
Mike: ...don't use the Gregorian calendar.
> know little or nothing about it. Don't believe it? Search
Tom [as Vader]: ...your feelings. You know it to be true.
> the web for Y2K and see what's really going on. (Or read
> "Time Bomb 2000:
Crow: Wasn't that a show on the Discovery Channel?
> What the Year 2000 Computer Crisis Means
> to You!" by Edward and Jennifer Yourden.)
Mike: What about my den?
>
> The human herd is quietly chewing sweetgrass
Tom and Crow: Baaaaa! Baaaaaa!
Mike: Actually, I prefer sweet'n'sourgrass.
> and is oblivious
> to the rising rumblings of
Crow: ...their stomachs.
> this impending disaster. But sooner
> or later
Mike [singing]: You'll get your second wind.
> (probably sooner), the herd is going to bolt. When that
> stampede begins, it's too late to prepare.
Tom [whistle, chirp, clang]: The stampede has started. It is too late for the
human herd to vote.
>
> As one writer described it, "What does it mean when a case
> of canned corn, an '89 Ford Taurus and an acre of land all
> cost the same?"
Mike: It means the Taurus was stripped and the land is in the Okeefanokee
swamp?
Tom: It means I'm about to pay too much for this muffler.
>
> And another said "It's like a hurricane that's going to hit
> everyone at once. The only questions are; how hard
Crow: ...will it be to read the rest of this post?
> and how long."
Mike: ...will this spam go on?
>
> The rumblings of this potentially titanic disaster grow louder
> every day.
Tom: Leonardo DiCaprio's fans plot their revenge against the Academy...
> Sane, sensible, knowledgable people
Crow: ...have absolutely nothing to do with this email.
> are already
> shifting into a survivalist mode. . . how long will it be before
> everyone knows. . . months? Weeks? Less?
Mike: Les Steckel?
Tom: Les Paul?
Crow: Less talk?
>
> And what happens in the cities when the herd, the global
> herd, stampedes for survival?
Crow: You get the Running of the Humans in Pamplona, Spain?
>
> And when will the rumblings grow loud enough to spook the
> herd? They are growing every day.
Mike: They're Flintstones rumblings.
Tom: 10 million strong and growing.
> Not just the fact the U.S.
> government will achieve only 60-70% Mission Critical readiness
> in time. Not just that businesses are ignoring or concealing
Crow: ...their facial blemishes.
> the
> problem. But that people in the know, like programmers and
> Corporate Execs are quitting, moving to rural America, and
> stocking up.
Tom: 'Green Acres 2,' starring Bill Gates and Leona Helmsley.
>
> These aren't survivalist kooks.
Tom: They're just kooks.
> These are the ones who know.
Crow: Bo knows survivalist skills.
>
> Go. Search the web.
Mike: Go on. I dare you.
> See for yourself what's going on. Don't
> take my word for it, I'm trying to sell you something.
Crow: Well, at least he's a semi-honest spammer.
>
> DOUBLE SOLUTION
Tom: Double, double, toil and...err...solution.
> When me and my family
[All wince audibly.]
> learned the true dimensions of the
> Y2K problem (far more grave and imminent than I've stated here),
> we realized that if we were to survive the next 5-15 years, we'd
> need money and goods.
Crow: Well, that's true of anybody at any time, really.
>
> How much money?
Tom: One million, four-hundred twenty-three thousand, six-hundred twenty
seven dollars and eighty-three cents.
> One hundred thousand dollars if I had it right now.
Mike: Sure, that makes sen...huh?
Tom: So that's how much money he'd need if he had it. Uh, huh. [shakes
head] Aiggida-aiggida-aiggida.
> More as time
> passes. That's so I can invest in distant date,
Crow: That phrase sound familiar, Mike? Distant date?
> deep out-of-the-
> money gold options (flight to precious metals),
Tom: Yes, fly to Gold, Pennsylvania, Silver, Arkansas, and Copper City, New
Mexico. American Airlines will take you there!
> pay my house
> and land off (I won't have a job),
Crow: I'll be laid off because of all the time I spend on this survivalist
crap.
> and to buy goods. A lot of goods.
>
> What goods?
Tom: What bads?
Mike: What morally indifferents?
> All the goods that go into immediate shortage when the herd
> bolts. Food. Water. Gas.
Crow: Methane gas?
> Propane. Guns. Ammo.
Mike: Address books of militiamen.
> Generators.
> Clothing. Seeds. And on and on and on.
Mike: Victoria's Secret catalogs.
Tom: Back issues of 'Hustler' magazine.
Crow: Condoms. Lots and lots of condoms.
> (See the Y2K sites
> about how to prepare.)
>
> Now, am I a scumbag by trying to profit from a disaster?
Mike: What do you, the viewers at home, think?
> I don't
> think so. I'm talking about a disaster that hasn't occurred yet.
Tom [as marcomm]: So I *can't* be a scumbag *yet.*
> I
> am strongly suggesting you go and judge the dimensions of the
> situation for yourself.
Crow: 36, 24, 34. [wolf-whistles]
> And then, if you decide that the problem
> is more or less as I've stated it, and more or less in our faces
> right now (not in 18 months),
Tom [as marcomm]: Yeah, you don't have to completely agree with me. Just
so long as you're in the general neighborhood.
> then I have a suggestion for you.
>
> My suggestion is that you do exactly what I myself am doing
Mike [as Bubba Bo Bob Brain audience member]: I will do whatever he says...
Mike and Tom: Whatever he says...
[All]: Whatever he says...
> in
> my effort to ensure that my family is able to survive whatever
> this thing turns out to be.
Tom: You know, for an apocalyptic doom-sayer, he's not very specific.
>
> I am using the internet and several other marketing vehicles
Mike: Public access cable shows.
Tom: Campus mall preaching.
Crow [as Amos Starkadder from 'Cold Comfort Farm']: Goin' about in one of
they Ford vahns...
> to convince people to call an 800 number and learn about an
> opportunity to do two things:
Mike: Get fined, *and* do jail time.
>
> One: Make money. . . a LOT of money, very quickly.
Mike: Of course, people's definitions of 'a lot' and 'very quickly' can vary
drastically.
Tom: Yeah, what if I wanted to make a million dollars overnight?
Crow: Then you'd be Demi Moore. [snicker]
>
> Two: Save on goods and services.
Crow: Get coupons for *anything* you'd ever want to do or get in Las Vegas.
>
> The program will cost you $200 to join. As you'll see when you
> call, the program is not designed as a Y2K solution,
Tom: Then why have you been calling it a solution up to now?
> it's designed
> as a money-maker and a money-saver. . .
Mike: Quickly followed by being a money-waster.
>
> But that's exactly what I need, and if your situation is anything
> like mine,
Crow: I rather doubt that...unless Mrs. F. is running some side experiments.
> that is exactly what you need too.
>
> Once you buy this package (which saves you significant amounts
> on over 250,000 name brand goods and services),
Tom: Most of which you've never heard of and would never use.
> you will be
> authorized to sell it and make money.
Mike: Then steal it from the person you sold it to and sell it again.
> How much? Think about
> $100 per sale, and then multiply it.
Crow: By some random number. Like that'll matter.
> (Paid weekly.)
>
> When you call the 800 number, you will hear a recording and then
> a professional telemarketer will come on and try to seperate you
> from $200.
Mike: That's the most accurate assessment of telemarketers I've heard in a
long time.
> If you're anything like me, you don't like being sold,
Crow: Yeah, slavery's a real drag.
> but remember, these are the same highly skilled salespeople who
> will be closing
Tom: ...doors in your face and laughing all the way to the bank.
> sales for you. Making money for you. And they're
> very, very good.
Mike [as marcomm]: They got me in on it, after all.
Crow: That argues less for their competence than for his stupidity.
>
> And all you have to do is get people to call the 800 number.
Tom: Oh, that's easy. Just tell them it's a new psychic hotline.
>
> Remember, this is designed as a money-maker for home-based
> entrepreneurs.
Mike: Oh, it's a counterfeiting machine.
> It is meant to make and save money, and the
> payout structure they use (not MLM) is called Double-Finity,
Tom: The less-successful DNA structure?
Crow: Must be what this guy has, then.
[All snicker.]
> and
> it means a lot more than the $100 you get for your sales.
Mike [as marcomm]: I can't think of any specifics right now, but believe me,
it means a lot more.
>
> That's it. That's the pitch.
Tom [as Harry Carry]: Oh, swing and a miss. That's strike two to Marcomm.
> Search the Y2K websites and judge for
> yourself. If you draw the same conclusion I did,
Crow: The only conclusion I'm hoping for is the conclusion of this spam.
> and have the same
> needs I do,
[All clear their throats and shift uncomfortably.]
> then call the 800 number below and see if you think this
> program offers the financial and supply solutions you need in the
> timeframe you need them.
Crow: Maybe *this* is how Iran-Contra was really funded.
>
> WORKS WORLDWIDE
Mike: But not well.
> Just as Y2K is a global problem, so is this program global. If you're
> not in the U.S. or Canada,
Tom: You get to be scammed out of even more money.
> you'll have to pay for the call using the
> other number.
Tom: See?
>
> 1-800-811-2141 (US and Canada) Code #54656
> 1-785-762-6715 (Everywhere else) Code #54656
> (8am-10-pm CST) Mon-Sat
Crow: Boy, these people do *not* have a life.
>
> RECORDED TESTIMONIALS:
Tom: That'll be convenient for the lawsuit.
Mike: Hey guys, follow my lead.
Mike: This is the story of six people...
Tom: Who had nothing better to do one day...
Crow: Than to listen to 'marcomm...'
Mike: And record these testimonials...
Tom: To show what happens when people lose what common sense they had...
Crow: And fall for money-making scams like this one.
>
> Here's the Fax on Demand number:
Crow: I demand that you clog up my fax machine with a load of useless drivel!
> 1-415-273-6020
>
> Good Luck and Best Wishes.
Tom [as Mike picks him up]: Ahh, good riddance to ya.
Mike: Hey Crow, this post has given me an idea about you...
Crow: Really?
[Lights come up, and the door at the opposite end of the theater opens. Mike
and the bots go through the door and enter a small room, with a view of the
main dining room of the restaurant. A couple of plates with picked-over
food, and one filled with ramchips, sit on a table. Waiter #2 loiters
nearby. Mike grabs a canape and stuffs it in his mouth.]
Mike: Mmmm...delicious! I guess reading that post wasn't so bad, if we get
this kind of food out of it. Crow: Yeah. [He munches a ramchip.] Hey
Mike, what were you talking about earlier? You think that Y2K thing has
something to do with me? Mike: Huh? Oh, yeah, Crow. You said you came back
to the Satellite after 15 minutes as pure energy, right? Crow: Yeah...
Mike: So when the year 2000 came along, you were in your corporeal form,
right? Crow: Right... Mike: So your microchips must have all gone haywire,
and it probably must have taken you a long time to recover! That
would explain the change in your voice and your loss of memory! Tom:
You might actually be on to something there, Mike. Mike: It probably affected
the SOL, too. Do you remember anything like that, Crow? Crow: Ye-es.
Yes, I do. There *were* a lot of problems with it early on--loss of power
and functions. That's why I invited the Nanites on board! Wow, this is
amazing! Tom: Yeah, who'd've thought Mike could explain anything? It's
wonderful! Crow: Fantastic! Tom: Incredible! Mike: Thanks guys...I think...
[Waiter #2 approaches.]
Waiter #2: Excuse me, sir, but it's time for you to return to the theater.
[All]: What?
Waiter #2: I've been instructed by madam [gestures out the window to where
Pearl and co. are just visible at their table] to inform you that your
main course is a science-fiction short story written by a then-high-
school student. Madam tells me that the author now can hardly
stand to read her own story.
Tom: Oh, dear.
Crow: This does *not* sound promising.
Mike: And if we refuse?
Waiter #2: Then I'm afraid I shall have to turn our bouncer on you.
[A large, hulking alien steps into the room. It looks like a cross between a
human and an octopus, and appears to have a nasty disposition.]
Mike [backing up]: Uhh...heh...we've...got...STORY SIGN!
[Mike picks up Tom and Crow and bolts into the theater.]
Waiter #2 [as he closes and locks the door to the theater]: Works every time,
eh, Bruno?
[The alien gurgles in what we assume is a laugh.]
[Commercials.]
[Continued in part 2.]
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