MiSTed - "The Burden Bearer"
rcoa...@forest.drew.edu
thought that perhaps some of you were wondering what would happen if a
Doctor Who story got the "Mystery Science Theater 3000" treatment...
---- CUT HERE ---
[No. No host segments with this one, my friends. There will be host
segments
in my next MiSTing, a Dr. Who story named "Touching Indigo". Deal with
it.]
[*...1...2...3...4...5...6...]
(M&TB enter from the right...sit down...you've seen it before.)
>This is the first story I have submitted to this
>newsgroup.
TOM: (geeky) I really love this super-keen Internet thingy.
> Your constructive comments and advice
>are appreciated at e.j....@durham.ac.uk
CROW: Aren't they always?
>
>
> "The Burden Bearer"
ALL: (singing) I'll never be your beast of burden...
> a short story by Elizabeth Danna
>
>
>In the Vortex where Time and Space are one, the Time Winds rule, and
>almost any object which intrudes on their domain will soon be torn to
>atoms.
MIKE: Oh no, it's a John Winston posting!
ALL: NOOOOOO!!!
> But there is one device, a sort of craft,
CROW: That dared to stand up against the evil empire!
> for which the Vortex is
>home. One of these was travelling through the Vortex, and it looked like
>an uneventful journey until the disturbance struck.
TOM: On the afternoon of a MURDER!
>
> Suddenly it was as if the TARDIS was under attack.
MIKE: [Picard] Shields up! Red alert!
> Some outside
>force grabbed the time/space craft and shook it violently.
CROW: WHERE DID YOU HIDE THE MONEY, PUNK?
> In the
>console room the pilot of the TARDIS was thrown to the floor. He
>struggled to his feet and clung to the edge of the console to keep
>from being thrown down again.
TOM: Which would cause him to lose the fight to a TKO.
> The instruments on the console were going
>haywire. The pilot, who was known to his associates as the Doctor,
MIKE: To us as "Fred"...
>began pressing buttons and flicking switches, fighting to regain
>control. Eventually the TARDIS settled onto an even keel. The time
>rotor had ceased its usual up-and-down motion,
CROW: Or known to the show's fans as "pelvic thrust".
TOM: That drives us insane?
CROW: Uh... no.
> which meant that the
>TARDIS had materialised - somewhere, sometime. The Doctor began to
>study the instruments.
>
> The Doctor's travelling companion,
ALL: Bucka-chicka-WOW...
> Bernice Summerfield, rushed
>into the console room. "What's happening?" she demanded.
>"Some kind of temporal disturbance has drawn the TARDIS off
>course. Don't think there's any damage done, though."
TOM: [Doctor] It's just a plot convenience. No danger to us.
>"Where are we?"
>"Jerusalem, AD. 30, according to the instruments."
>Bernice grinned. "In that case, what I want to know is..."
>The Doctor had had Bernice as a companion long enough to know
>what she was on about. That old vid that they had watched with
>Ace, at Ace's insistence.
MIKE: Ace could be very persuasive with a can of Nitro-9.
> Together they chorused, "What have the
>Romans ever done for us?" They laughed.
CROW: You dare drag Monty Python into this fanfic??? Out! GET OUT!!!
>
> Bernice pulled a face. She said, "The problem with this
>time zone is, the men are all chauvinists and the fashions are lousy."
TOM: [Doctor] Uhhh... your point?
>"I have to find the source of the temporal distortion, find out what's
going
>on. You can always stay here if you like."
>"No way. I'd better go see if I can find something suitable in the
>wardrobe room." She left the console room.
MIKE: [Bernice] (mumbling) ...lousy such-and-such... probably has
problems
piloting a pair of pants, much less a time machine...
>
> The Doctor remained at the console for another few minutes, checking
>the instruments again. Then, satisfied with what he saw, he headed for
>the wardrobe room to change. It wouldn't be the first time he had worn
>Roman dress.
CROW: Wild Gallifreyian keggers!
ALL: TOGA! TOGA! TOGA!
> In the wardrobe room he exchanged his rumpled linen suit
>for a _tunica_ of woven wool, and his two-toned brogues for leather
sandals.
>From a hatstand he took a round-crowned, flat-brimmed _petasus_ and put
it
>on his head.
TOM: As opposed to his butt?
> From an umbrella stand he took a wooden staff. Thus
attired
>and
MIKE: ...looking like Moses...
> equipped like a Roman traveller, he left the wardrobe room.
>
> He left the TARDIS and began walking the narrow, dusty
>streets.
CROW: Nope... no one is going to notice a blue box sitting in the middle
of ancient Jerusalem... uh uh...
> The day was warm,and the sun was shining brightly; from its
>position the Doctor judged that it was past noon. He was in the Lower
>City. His eyes were soon drawn up the mountain to the Upper City, to the
>spectacular Temple begun by Herod the Great some five decades earlier,
and
>still under construction.
TOM: Fanfic AND history lesson... all for one low price!
> His immediate surroundings were considerably
>more humble.
>
> It was not long before his nose began to pick out the prevailing
smells.
>The first one he noticed was a delightful smell which told him that he
was
>crossing the Street of Bakers
MIKE: Why, look! There's Tom, and Colin... and Pip and Jane...
> - he made a mental note to investigate that
>street more closely when it was time for dinner.
CROW: As opposed to checking out the city dump for dinner.
> There was also, more
>faintly, the unpleasant slaughterhouse-smell from the morning's
sacrifices at
TOM: ...Microsoft.
>the Temple. And the smell, closer at hand, of roasting beef and lamb as
>the sacrifices were cooking (this would be worth investigating later as
well).
MIKE: [Referee] PENALTY! CONTINUITY PROBLEM! DOCTOR DOES *NOT* EAT
MEAT!
FIVE YARDS! THIRD DOWN!
> He continued to wander the streets, waiting for the nausea
>and tightness in his stomach which would tell him that he was near
>the source of the temporal distortion which had brought the TARDIS
>here. He sighed. He had not allowed Bernice to see how worried he
>was. Someone here was playing with Time,
CROW: And it was way past their dinnertime!
> and that someone couldn't be
>human, not in this time zone. He was Time's Champion, which meant that
he
>had a duty to set things right. Sometimes the burden felt almost
>too heavy for him to bear. Who or what was it this time?
TOM: [Doctor] Probably those damned Olsen twins... they're almost as
bad
as the Master...
> It would
>not be the first time he had placed himself in the breach, his own
>frail flesh between the universe and that which would destroy it.
MIKE: Betwen a rock and a hard place, taken to its logical extreme.
>So far it had always been enough, but he knew that one day it
>wouldn't be. And then? Well, he would die knowing he had tried.
>
> Of course the Doctor was not the only person abroad on the streets
>of Jerusalem that day.
CROW: Sigfried and Roy were playing at Caesar's palace!
TOM: The casino?
CROW: No, the real thing.
MIKE: Don't bring Mel Brooks into this, please.
> He put off his gloomy thoughts when he noticed a
>crowd gathering on a street corner a short distance ahead of him. What
>was happening? His curiosity piqued, he headed toward the crowd.
TOM: ...brandishing a loaded M-1...
>
> As he did so, his attention was caught by two middle-aged men who
>were also going to join the crowd. The wide fringes on their robes and
>the large wooden phylacteries strapped to their arms marked them as
>Pharisees; their bearing and expressions marked them as members of the
>Establishment.
MIKE: [angry teen] You're just a tool of the Establishment, man!
> One of them asked his fellow, "Can you see what's going
>on?"
>The second man, the taller of the two, said, "It's that young
>troublemaker from Nazareth again."
CROW: Pennsylvania?
>The first man groaned. "Honestly, it's about time the Sanhedrin did
>something about him."
>The Doctor, overhearing, smiled to himself. Anyone whom these
>two Establishment types would call a troublemaker was probably a
>man after his own hearts.
TOM: ...and spleen.
>
> He worked his way to a position from which he could see what
>was happening. He had little trouble picking out the
>troublemaker whom the two Pharisees had been discussing. There
>was little to distinguish him from the other Jews in the crowd.
MIKE: Except for the rainbow-coloured clown wig.
>He was a comely young man in his thirties, about the same size as the
>Doctor, with dark skin and hair and alert brown eyes. His
>clothes were typical of Jewish men of this period. And yet the
>Doctor sensed something different about this man. What was it?
CROW: [Church Lady] Could it beeeeeeee... SATAN???
>Perhaps it was just that he had what a later century would call
>charisma.
>
> The Doctor had anticipated an opprtunity to engage in a
>pastime he enjoyed, that of playing opposing parties off against
>each other.
MIKE: Ha ha... it's fun to start bitter and angry arguements!
> But by the time he joined the crowd a dispute was
>already under way. There were several people gathered around
>the young man, as if they were his close companions.
ALL: (clear throats)
> The Doctor heard
>someone in the crowd say, "Isn't that our neighbour Simeon bar-Jonah with
>the rabbi?" Some one else answered, "Yes. So it's true - I'd heard he'd
>given up fishing." The Doctor's eyebrows rose;
CROW: [Spock] Fascinating.
> he looked at the young
rabbi
>again. So _that_ was...Well, well. By all accounts an interesting man,
by
>some accounts more. At any rate worth hearing, since I'm here anyway,
>thought the Doctor to himself.
>
> As the Doctor was working his way forward, another
>Pharisee was addressing the Nazarene troublemaker. "But
>tell me then, Rabbi - is the Sabbath from God or not?"
TOM: Can you tell the difference between Whizzo butter and a dead crab?
MIKE: What is the location of the secret Rebel base?
CROW: Did you know it was all going to go so wrong for you?
>"Of course it is," was the prompt reply. "As it is written,'Six
>days you shall labour, and do all your work; but the seventh day
>is a Sabbath to the Lord your God.'"
MIKE: Wonderful... it's a religious spam thinly disguised as a Doctor Who
fanfic.
>"Then why do you not keep it yourself? Many times you have
>healed on the Sabbath."
>The young Nazarene sighed; the Doctor had the impression
>that this was not the first time that the subject had been discussed.
"Yes,
TOM: [Marv Albert] YESSSS!
>I have healed on the Sabbath. Does not your heavenly Father provide for
your
>needs even on the Sabbath? Just as my Father works, so I work also."
>The Doctor found himself strangely compelled to listen further.
CROW: [Doctor] I find myself strangely compelled to listen further.
> The
>young rabbi continued to speak, making a change of tack. "Tell me
this:If
>one of you has a sheep,
MIKE: Oh, honey, no... don't go there.
> and it falls into a well on the Sabbath, don't
>you pull it out? Of course you do, you're bad shepherds if you don't.
>And you're bad shepherds if you don't care for the flock which God has
>given you. Ezekiel
CROW: The Amish clown?
> got it right when he prophesied about you, 'O you
>shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! You eat the fat,
TOM: Mmmmmm...lard...
>you clothe yourselves with the wool, but you do not feed the sheep.'" He
>shifted his attention to the crowd - his voice carried effortlessly.
>"Come to me, all of you who struggle and carry heavy burdens, and I'll
>give you rest.
MIKE: (Western accent) We'll leave a light on fer ya.
> Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I'm gentle
>and humble in heart,
TOM: But don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
> and you'll find rest for your souls. Because my
>yoke is comfortable and my burden is light." He repeated, stressing the
>personal pronouns, "My yoke is comfortable and my burden is light."
CROW: SOYLENT GREEN IS MADE FROM PEOPLE!
>
> The Doctor swallowed hard. The young rabbi had not looked at him.
>But he had repeated his last sentence in fluent and perfectly accented
>High Gallifreyan.
MIKE: (stoned) Lord Stoner gave this wicked weed, dude...
> How could this be? The obvious answer came promptly
>to the Doctor's mind, but he quickly rejected it. His telepathic radar
ALL: RADAR!
>would have detected another of his own kind as soon as he arrived.
>
> Meanwhile the Pharisees were moving away, discomfited by what the
>young Galilean had said. Simeon bar-Jonah let out a victory-whoop and
>exclaimed,
TOM: *BURRRRRRRRRP*!
MIKE: That was really gross, you know that?
> "Well done, Teacher!" The young rabbi looked at him with
>mixed amusement and affection. But another of the rabbi's companions was
>not so amused. He muttered, "One of these days
CROW: (heavily distorted) ...I'm going to cut you into little pieces!
> he'll go too far, and
>then we'll be in trouble with the Romans."
TOM: Ro-Man?
>Simeon, hearing him, laughed and put an arm around his fellow's
>shoulders. "You worry too much, Judah-Iscariot," he said without
>concern.
>
> The Doctor, who was still puzzling over his problem, wondered aloud,
>"Who _is_ he?"
>The big man who was one of the rabbi's companions
MIKE: John Rhys-Davies!
> heard, turned to the
>Doctor and said, "Come and see!"
CROW: ...Alexander's Rag-Time Band!
>
> THE END...
>
TOM: Let us adjourn, shall we?
MIKE: Yes, lets.
(Mike picks up Tom, they all leave to the right.)
>--
>
> Elizabeth Danna
> "If our torment is to end, if liberty is to be restored, we must
> grasp the nettle, even though it makes our hands bleed. Only
> through pain can tomorrow be assured."
> _The Prisoner_, "Dance Of The
Dead"
[...6...5...4...3...2...1...*]
--- DISCLAIMER ---
The concept and characters of "Mystery Science Theater 3000" are copyright
1996 Best Brains, Inc. "Doctor Who" belongs to the BBC. This short story
is copyrighted by Elizabeth Danna (according to U.S. law, anyway.) I'm
just
a pathetic waste of flesh that hangs around alt.drwho.creative in order to
find bad stories (like this) and mercilessly riff it. This is not meant
to
be a personal attack on Elizabeth Danna. Bite me, it's fun, okay?
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Ed Powell: Slayer of Gummi Bears, MSTie #27968, and perpetually confused
joey...@aol.com http://user.aol.com/joeylemur/
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"Go, before...I unleash a terrible *SOMETHING* upon you!"
- The Doctor, "Battlefield"
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