[MSTing] Labyrnth/Bugaloo Xover Pt 1 of 8
peasporr...@hotmail.com
witchie-poos and golden flutes named freddy
in the labrynth" by Mark Ogilvie >>
<< with the short, "I want You Back" by FrickRokz>>
with Extra Special Guest Star... Mike Neylon!
by Brendan Herlihy and Steve Weinberg
--- Part 1 of 8 ---
DISCLAIMER
Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters and situations are
copyright 1999 Best Brains, Inc. "The Adventures of goblins, talk
showhost, bugaloos, witchie-poos and golden flutes named freddy in the
labrynth" copyright 1999 by Mark Ogilvie. "Labyrinth", its characters,
and situations, are copyright 1986 Jim Henson. "H.R. Pufnstuf"
its characters and situations, are copyright 1969 Sid and Marty Krofft.
"Bugaloos", its characters and situations, are copyright 1970 Sid and
Marty Krofft. "I want You Back" copyright 1999 FrickRokz. N'SYNC,
Backstreet Boys, and 98 Degrees copyright The Dawn of Time, Satan.
Britney Spears copyright 1999 Mattel, Inc. Dr. Michael Neylon appears
with his knowledge and permission.
This publication is for entertainment use only. Pregnant women should
not touch broken tablets. This publication is not meant as a personal
attack on Mike Neylon, Shay Caron, Mark Ogilvie, FrickRokz, Jim Henson,
David Bowie, Sid and/or Marty Krofft, Britney Spears, Backstreet Boys,
98Degrees, or N'SYNC; nor is it meant to infringe on any copyrights
held by Best Brains, Sci Fi Channel, Jim Henson, Sid and Marty Krofft,
FrickRokz, or Mark Ogilvie. They call it "Royale with cheese".
Copyright 1999 Brendan Herlihy and Steve Weinberg.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
[START THEME MUSIC]
THEME SONG GUY:
In the not-too-far-past future
O'er distant alien soil
Pearl Forrester is real jacked off
'Cuz things got screwed up royal
Her nefarious schemes had a wrench thrown in
Thanks to Michael J. Nelson's Evil Twin
Now she's trapped on the SOL, it's true!
Meanwhile Mike's stuck on the surface-
It's a zany switcheroo!
PEARL (voice over, screaming): NEL-, SOOOOOOOON!
[CUT TO: SOL. Pearl, in her black jump suit, speaks (does NOT sing)
directly to the camera.]
PEARL (threatening): You BETTER not send me crummy postings!
Look at me! I don't kid!
[CUT TO: Dungeon of the House of Pain. Mike, Tom, and Crow.]
MIKE: Right. 'Cuz you'd have to sit-
CROW (brightly): And watch them all!
TOM (sarcasm): And suffer. Like WE once did.
[CUT TO: Elsewhere in Dungeon. Bobo is playing solitaire. Observer,
dumb as a post without his brain, picks up a card Bobo just played,
and
absently bites it. Bobo swats him over the head.]
THEME SONG GUY:
Now Bobo, and Observer, too
are stuck down there with Mike
[CUT TO: <SOL Bridge>. Pearl, lounging in a La-Z-Boy, smokes a cigar.
Clothes are strewn everywhere, even over Gypsy, who's swiveling around
in a daze.]
THEME SONG GUY:
While Pearl's crew on the Satellite
wishes she would take a hike!
Guess who's up there!
THEME SONG GUY: Gypsy!
[INSERT Gypsy, with a dirty bra over her eye.]
GYPSY: I'm blind!
THEME SONG GUY: Scratch!
[INSERT Scratch, the sky blue dragon, confused, his back to Cambot,
his voice supplied by special guest *Danny DeVito*.]
SCRATCH: So where's Mulder?
THEME SONG GUY: Magic Voice!
[INSERT shot of empty bridge.]
MAGIC VOICE: They're *all* my best side.
THEME SONG GUY: Peeeeearl!
[INSERT Pearl, arms extended, hamming for the camera.]
PEARL: Fried chicken!
[CUT TO: Clips of Pearl with Scratch on her head talking to Trixie via
the hexfield, Gypsy approaching Pearl morosely drinking a beer while
watching football, Pearl shooting her Ghostbusters gun around the SOL.]
THEME SONG GUY:
If you're wondering how she eats and breathes,
and other science fare,
just remember that we don't like her much,
and we really just don't care!
On
M Y S T E R Y
S C I E N C E
T H E A T E R ,
3 0 0 0 !
>>BRANG !<<
/ * \... = 2 =... > 3 <... [ 4 ]... ( 5 )... | 6 |...
/ * \... = 2 =... > 3 <... [ 4 ]... ( 5 )... | 6 |...
[OPEN ON: SOL Bridge. Pearl is alone on the bridge, engrossed in
reading, "THE CELESTINE PROFIT-CY! Invest in Alien Worlds- with NO
MONEY DOWN!" Gypsy enters.]
GYPSY: So Pearl?
PEARL (not looking up): No.
GYPSY: I was just wondering. Is it really a long, long way to
Tipperary?
PEARL (sighing, looking off the bridge): Lizard?
[Scratch rushes onstage.]
SCRATCH: Yazza boss?
PEARL (returning to her book): Shut her up.
SCRATCH: Gotcha. (to Gypsy) So! Tipperary interrogatives, ay?
GYPSY: Uh-huh.
SCRATCH: Ya ain't the first, love. This way.
[Scratch leads Gypsy to another part of the ship, just ten feet away.
There, they reach a large toll booth, with a smilin' Irish guard
(Paul
Chaplin) in a badged blue uniform, cap, and clipboard. He's got a wee
touch of a brogue.]
GUARD: Tipperary Border Patrol!
GYPSY: Oo!
GUARD: Please form a single line on the right. Have yer passports
ready, if ya'd be so kind madam.
SCRATCH (to Gypsy): You don't have anything to declare, do ya, Bright
Eye?
GYPSY: I guess it isn't such a long way to Tipperary after all.
GUARD (offended): Oho! So ya be another one o'them book-learnin'
socialites seein' fit ta judge the distance ta Tipperary, are ya?
GYPSY: Well...
GUARD: Perhaps you'd prefer another song? (raises his fists) Shake
hands
with me brother Fist, me boy! And here is his sister, Pain!
SCRATCH (scared, backing away): Heh- I think we better go to commercial
and call the American embassy or something. Good guard! Nice
guard!
GUARD (shadow boxing, singing): Oh Danny Boy! I'm gonna whup yer
noggin'
in!
[Logo, Commercial]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[OPEN ON: SOL desk. The Guard from the previous scene is now half in
the
bag, downing another of what seems to have been many glasses of
whiskey
with Gyps, who sort of stares at him as he clutches the bottle and
blubbers.]
GUARD: Could ya have any idea, how much pain an' heartache our locals
went through when our wee Irish county was situated back on Earth?
I mean, how can ya enjoy, sittin' in a neighborhood pub, hoistin'
a pint of lager, burstin' out, (sings) "It's a long way, to
Tip-per-ar-y!"- when the dang thing's just a few miles down the
thoroughfare? We sounded like a bunch o'bloody loons!
GYPSY: Oo!
GUARD (close to tears): The shame... the humiliation! And you can't
very well sing, (sings) "It's a pleasant ten minute drive, to
Tip-per-ar-y! Past the strip mall on your left!" 'Cuz it just
doesn't feel right.
GYPSY: So you moved the whole county?
GUARD (wistful): Got a cooperative agreement with Deep 13, and shot the
whole lot into orbit! So everyone, everywhere, could sing with
pride, that it truly was, a long way to go! (frowns) Then you
showed up.
GYPSY: Oh. Um... sorry?
GUARD (shrugs): Eh. No bad.
[Light flashes. The guard is terrified, points at it.]
GUARD: AUGH! The faerie people!
[Pearl enters. Startled, the guard turns, and his terror doubles.]
GUARD: AUGH! A banshee!
[The guard slides off his stool and beneath the desk.]
PEARL (staring beneath the desk, disgusted): Hmph. Great. We got
stereotypes. We'll have to spray.
[Pearl hits the light.]
[CUT TO: House of Pain. It's a dark, dank dungeon/mad scientist's lab,
with Jacob's ladders and oscilloscopes and NASA-surplus panels of
pretty blinking buttons. Bobo, Mike, and the bots are gathered
around
a worktable. They are all unkempt, crotchety, and very hungry.
Except for Tom, who's wearing a white hard hat and holding a
clipboard.]
TOM: People! People, please! I call to order this first meeting of
the Local Union 042 of Robots, Talking Apes, and Former Omnipotent
Beings Locked in a Cavernous Dungeon By Evil Mike.
MIKE: I still don't get why I'm not-
TOM: Mr. Nelson! Need I remind you, you're still a contract employee?
MIKE: You wrote that contract ten minutes ago! And it's just "Crow is
a dink" typed out a hundred times and signed! By Crow, I might
add.
(to Crow) What were *you* thinking?
TOM: Now, can we start with a quick Brain Guy update?
CROW: Uh, brain still missing. Intelligence still falling. Now
thinks
he's a local weatherman.
[Brain Guy pops his head right into a close-up, smiling ridiculously.]
OBSERVER: Ha! You think it's bad *thinking* you're a local
weatherman,
Katy? What if you *are* a local weatherman? Ha ha ha! Like me!
Ha ha ha! Which I am! And speaking of bad segues...
[Bobo conks him on the head with the clown hammer. Observer swoons,
and falls out of shot.]
TOM: Quite. Now, a report from Tom Servo on the dungeon's food
supply. (Tom clears his throat.) Thank you, Tom. Since the dawn of
time, man's existence has-
CROW (muttering over): Booo-ring! Booo-ring!
TOM: Mr. Robot, I will have order! (to himself) Thank you, Mr.
Servo.
(to himself) Not at all. Please continue. (to himself) Thank you!
Herewith, listed in order of edibility and nutrient value, is the
food supply available within our confinement.
[PAN over each item, arranged in a row on a table, as Tom mentions it.]
TOM: One fruit roll-up. It unrolled some time ago, so it's now
basically a chunky purple piece of cellophane wrap.
[The group shudders. Pan over to next item, a small pile of brightly-
colored pills.]
TOM: Some pretty M&M's I found in a zip-lock beneath Eddie's bed.
MIKE (picking up a pill, examining): Do they make pink M&M's?
CROW: Not in caplet form, I don't think.
[PAN back to group.]
TOM: Crow.
MIKE: Oh come on!
CROW: He's just saying my name, Mike.
TOM (pleasantly): No no. You're food option three.
CROW (confused): Oh. What?
TOM: And finally, as a last resort...
[PAN to last item.]
TOM: Chicken McNuggets.
[Bobo jumps up, frantic.]
BOBO: We're doomed! DOOOOOMED!
MIKE: Bobo! Bobo, settle down! We can still make it!
BOBO: But how!
MIKE: Easy! Cooperation!
CROW: Cooperation? What's that?
MIKE: Why, cooperation is the biggest, bestest, brightest drop of
sunshine ever to fill a little kid's lunch box!
TOM: So... some kind of snack cake? A new Lunchable flavor?
[Mike grabs Observer from the floor and puts him in Bobo's hands.]
MIKE: See, Bobo here, 'cuz he's big and strong, can carry Observer
around to various parts of the dungeon, and when he gets near his
brain, he'll get smart again and get us out of here!
BOBO (slow to comprehend): Hwong?
MIKE: Meanwhile, Tom and Crow, since they're robots and mechanical
with
sharp points and destructive personalities, can try to take apart
the dungeon door!
CROW: Hey, that would be kinda fun, Tommy! Some mindless vandalism,
just like the SOL days, huh?
MIKE: And since my only talent is screwing things up, I'll just cower
in the corner beneath a work stool until one of you comes and gets
me!
BOBO: Why- it all fits together, doesn't it?
TOM: Yeah! Each person, doing the thing they're best at, for the good
of the group!
MIKE: Cooperation!
ALL (nodding in unison): Mm, hmm!
[INSERT: Placard, reading "4.7 SECONDS LATER..."]
[CUT BACK: Bobo is chewing on an arm he has ripped off Crow. Crow,
crying like a baby, is pinned on the table by Bobo's foot. Tom is
urgently calling for order. Mike fights to pull Bobo away, Bobo is
fending him off with his free hand.]
MIKE: For the love of god, ape!
BOBO: Mmbg! Get your own! Get-
[In the struggle, Mike pushes Bobo against a big blue button on a
console. A warning siren goes off, lights flash. All stop and stare
at Mike.]
MIKE: Uh-oh.
[CUT TO: SOL. The gang looks at Mike, Pearl very intently.]
PEARL: Uh-oh, WHAT?!
[CUT TO: House of Pain.]
MIKE: Uh, Pearl- (laughs feebily) you're gonna get a real kick out of
this...
[CUT TO: SOL. CLOSE on Pearl.]
PEARL: NEEEEL-SOOOON?!
[CUT TO: House of Pain.]
MIKE: We seem to have, maybe, possibly, sent you a probably harmless
little fanfic based on the movie... "Labyrinth".
[CUT TO: SOL. All are crying and screaming at the top of their lungs
and clutching their heads.]
[CUT TO: HoP.]
MIKE: Oh, now, let's not overreact. I mean, "Labyrinth" was a pretty
good movie, right? Jennifer Connelly was cool, and David Bowie...
you know, didn't... well, suck. Much.
TOM (looking at console readout): Hoo! Maybe, but this thing's some
sort of crossover with "The Bugaloos"! And "H.R. Pufnstuf"! With
a
bad talk show thrown in to boot! Wow- a real crap smoothie, with
no
ice to serve it over.
BOBO (eyeing the rest of Crow): Mmmm... smoothie.
[Licking his chops, Bobo reaches below the desk and produces a
blender.
Oblivious, Mike and Tom continue to discuss the readout sotto voce.]
CROW: Um... guys?
[CUT TO: SOL. The buzzer flashes.]
ALL: Fiction sign!
SCRATCH (as tux touches his burns): Owie! Owie! Fiction sign ow!
[All exit.]
| 6 |... ( 5 )... [ 4 ]... > 3 <... = 2 =... / * \...
[CUT TO: Theater. Pearl, Scratch, and Gypsy enter. Madge, as always,
is omnipresent.]
SCRATCH (rhyming): Owie. Owie. David B-owie.
PEARL: Boh-ie, bubby. Rhymes with Chloe.
>The Adventures of goblins,
>talk showhost,
>bugaloos,
>witchie-poos
>and golden flutes named freddy
>in the labrynth
MADGE (as storyreader): Are you seated comfortably? Tough!
SCRATCH: So that's it? Hm. Oh well! Kinda dull, but at least it was
short! (rises to leave)
PEARL (grabs Scratch by the horn): Get back here, you!
SCRATCH (relenting): Owie 2! Owie 2!
>Author: Mark Ogilvie
>
>Author EMail: m...@star.net
MADGE: Sandra Bullock's ISP.
GYPSY: MSO Starnet? Is he related to CPO Sharky?
>
>"Take two." the director said, snapping his fingers.
GYPSY: Oo, we can hear the director. It's "Dateline NBC".
PEARL (as "Dateline" director): Good show, everyone. Except for you,
*Tad*.
>The man beside him punched a button
SCRATCH: How a seamstress relieves stress.
> and instantly the small color monitor showed a very worried face.
MADGE: Boy, the tobacco lawyers aren't even trying to hide their
anxiety anymore.
> Usually the director would linger on the face, for he always thought
> Jenifer Bass quite beautiful.
GYPSY: But he also thought using coke at age 28 was a "youthful
indiscretion".
> It was a plane Jane face he knew,
[All snicker.]
PEARL: She's not just a 10, she's a B-19!
SCRATCH: She's not just a fox, she's a piper cub!
> with small eyes, slightly pointed nose and flat mouth.
GYPSY: She sounds like Thelma from Scooby Doo.
MADGE: Yup, she's Hannah-Bar-beautiful!
> All under near shoulder length brown hair that was cut in bangs just
> above her eyes. But it was a face he often dreamed off as he slept
> next to his wife.
[All sputter guffaws.]
SCRATCH: He "dreamed off" her face? With what, a vegetable peeler?
MADGE (little kid): Can Jenny come out and flay?
>"Take one." he snapped and the scene
> changed again.
PEARL: "Devil Fish" editing!
> This time the monitor
>showed most of the converted living room/studio.
MADGE: Hey, they converted their living room into a fun and functional
crappy Labyrinth crossover!
GYPSY: And all for under $500!
> "Tighten the shot." He growled. "I want the three on the couch."
SCRATCH: With or without their faces?
> Obligingly the camera zoomed in to frame Jenifer, dressed demurely as
> usual in a blue dress,
PEARL: Hm. She is truly unaware of how beautiful she is, that one.
>her friend/co-host Angela dressed in a loose blouse and jeans, and the
> well dressed young man waving a ceremonial knife infront of their
>faces.
MADGE: Looks like Mr. Director's dream is about to come true!
GYPSY: So, there's a maniac brandishing a knife on camera, but we had
to start with a look inside the mind of Humbert Humbert?
>
> "The study of Goblinology has been maligned for ages." the man said.
SCRATCH: Yeah, most fictional doctorates run into that sort of thing.
PEARL: It's Troy McLure's infomercial for the Garden Goblin!
>
> "Really?" Jenifer said, keeping her voice professionally courteous.
> That a girl, the director thought.
MADGE: Oh, what gave it away?
> Pinned on the directors sheet was
> the mans name, Brian Froud,
SCRATCH: Hey! He's that guy from Turin I keep hearin' about.
> and his occupation, a Goblinologist.
MADGE: Huh. So, I guess a guy studying frogs is a polliwogologist?
PEARL: And a professor studying hair is a follicle-oligist?
GYPSY: I prefer students of Grammar Rock's tribute to adverbs. You
know, LollyLollyologists?
> When he had seen the occupation the director had been puzzled, until
> he recognized Marty's handwriting. As soon as the director had seen
> the man on camera he had called the police, the guy was too normal
to
> be normal.
SCRATCH (sighing): Oy vey. You'd think after a hundred Normal Person
History months, and making Ed Platt's birthday a national holiday,
we'd get beyond this.
PEARL: He's got nothing against normal people. He just doesn't want
one marrying his daughter.
> He wore a brown tweed suit, and a mustache. His voice was clipped
> with an English accent. Any guy that Marty booked who looked that
> normal was going to be trouble.
GYPSY: Somebody call the NAANP!
> "Number two get out of Angela's dress." the director snarled.
[All growl and sigh. Gypsy shakes her head.]
> The monitor on camera two had shown a close up of
> Angela's ample cleavage.
PEARL: So we should hate the cameraman? *He* didn't use the word
"ample".
>
> "Just last week I was called crazy. Can you believe that?"
MADGE (Froud): Just because my prices are so low!
>
> "No." Jenifer said, the knife hovering dangerously close to her nose.
GYPSY: Dark Helmet is threatening to give her her old nose back!
>"Two get me a head shot of Jenifer.
SCRATCH: PK-SHEW! THUD!
PEARL: Not that kind of head shot, you...
>Take two." the director said, almost in the same breath. He was a
pro,
> if that knife was going into his stars face he was going to get a
> shot of it.
GYPSY: I'm confused. Is this black comedy, or just bad taste?
MADGE: Since The Jerky Boys, who can tell?
>"I can't even get grant money." Brian said, his voice sounding
> pathetic even over the studio pick up mikes. "Is that fair?"
>
> "No." Jenifer and Angela said, almost at the same time.
SCRATCH: Huh. Some talk show hosts. A pair of Magic Eight Balls
would
give a better interview!
> The audience, sitting in the bleachers built into Jenifer's garage,
> laughed.
ALL: Huh? What?
GYPSY: Maybe they just came over from watching "Suddenly Susan". Most
things are funny when compared to "Suddenly Susan".
SCRATCH: How high is Jenifer's garage anyway? (laughs) Bleachers!
Feh!
> "Why are they laughing?" Brian demanded. "Are they laughing at me?"
>
> "Take one."
>
> "No..." Jenifer stumbled. "It's ah. um..."
>
> "It's Jen," Angela said, leaning over her friend and closer to
Brian.
>"It's that funny way she has of talking."
PEARL: You know, that way she says "no" and "um..." instead of forming
coherent thoughts like a proper host?
> "Get out of her chest number two."
[All cry and moan.]
MADGE: Misogyny! A cheap, pollution-free way to lower the quality of
*any* piece of writing!
> "Oh." Brian said, giving Jenifer a sympathetic look.
>
> "What else do you have to show us?" Jenifer asked, gently pushing
> Angela back onto her side of the couch.
>
> "Well I have these." Brian said,
SCRATCH: Get out of his pants, number two.
>reaching into his bag.
>
> "Two give me a shot of whatever he pulls out of there.
GYPSY: Suddenly I'm hoping it's a bag full of curare. Does that make
me a bad person?
PEARL: It makes you a robot on a vacuum hose.
GYPSY: Oo.
> Take two."
>
> The camera zoomed in and the screen was filled with two brass
> bracelets. Intricately, exsquisitely carved in bass relief
MADGE: Oh, that rock benefit concert for the fish in Lake Erie.
> they showed women washing, sweeping or serving a host of strange
> looking creatures.
SCRATCH: The Royal Family's indentured servants, lovingly captured for
all posterity in this limited edition collector's set.
>
> "Oh, those are...nice."
PEARL: In a Roots/Beloved/Amistad kind of way.
>
> "These actually belonged the Goblin King's maid."
>
> "Really?"
>
> "Yes."
GYPSY: You're kidding!
SCRATCH: No!
GYPSY: No!
SCRATCH: Yes!
>
> "Here let me see those." Angela said.
MADGE (snickering): Not exactly Charlie Rose, is she.
SCRATCH: This makes "Ru Paul" look like "Point Counterpoint"!
>
> "Take one, two follow the bracelets."
>
> "It's an interesting story really," Brian said,
PEARL: No, really! It may *seem* pointless and boring, but...
> relaxing in his chair he toyed with the knife as he talked. "The
maid
> was actually from our world."
GYPSY: Which meant her employer had to pay Social Security. And that
was the Goblin King's downfall...
> He leaned closer to her and Jenifer found herself again facing the
> knife.
MADGE: Strictly outpatient, though. Her health plan considers this an
elective interview.
> "Goblins always get their serving wenches from our world, our women
> are always more pliable."
PEARL: Now that this exposition is over, we return to our story,
already in progress.
>
> "What?" Angela exclaimed. "The hell we are."
SCRATCH (Angela): I'm as rigid as a frozen fishstick!
> "Compared with Goblin women I mean." Brian said, quickly. "Anyway
the
> wench was a selfish girl who hated the fact that she had to look
> after her little brother.
GYPSY: She was 46 and he was 39.
> But when the goblin king took him to his castle at the
> center of a Labrynth she realized her parents would punish her if
she
> left him there."
PEARL: So NATO began a prolonged bombing campaign to reduce the
viability of the Goblin infrastructure.
>
> How can he talk that long without breathing, the director thought,
> wondering if he should go to commercial before or after the lunatic
> was done raving.
GYPSY: Oh, come on, can't you see he's reaching out to you? Don't
pull
back now, you may never get another chance!
> He decided to stay, Jenifer (bless her heart) looked
> interested.
MADGE: Camera two, get out of her ventricles.
>
> "So she went in and tried to get him. But by the time she got
through
> the Labrynth he had been turned into a goblin
SCRATCH: She got through the Labyrinth? What's the point of havin' a
Labyrinth if any Jane, Dick, or Mary gets through your freakin'
Labyrinth?!
PEARL: There comes a point where it's not so much a Labyrinth as a
hallway with turns.
>and she ended up cleaning up after him again."
>
> "Dumb kid should have left him there." Angela muttered.
>
GYPSY: I hear Fran Lebowitz got breast implants and died her hair
blonde just so she could play this role.
SCRATCH: Good for her.
> "So how did you get these?" Jenifer asked, holding a bracelet in
each
>hand.
>
> "I traded a baseball card for them at a swap meet.
[All titter in hysterics.]
MADGE: Let's see, a priceless museum-quality artifact... that's gotta
be worth what, two Kent Tekulves and a rookie Ed Kranepool?
> It seems that a wandering knight freed the maid,
GYPSY: At the swap meet?
> but then she betrayed
> him, and now he must wander the Labrynth for all time.
SCRATCH: Doomed forever to roam past the Hummel figurines, second-hand
auto tools, and poorly-built driftwood sculptures, never making eye
contact with the vendors, never quite remembering where he parked
the damn Taurus.
>
> "Why'd she do that?"
>
> "It's what women do, isn't it?" Brian said, bitterness evident in
his
>voice.
PEARL: No, you're thinking of taking over the world and ruling you
with
an iron fist. Common mistake.
[CUT TO: Logo, commercials.]
--- End Part 1 ---
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