MiSTing: Katira's Tale, part 1
Amanda Van Rhyn
this story was just too easy to go medieval on. It's a Disney toon
fanfic that leans heavily on contrivance, with the occasional smut scene
and/or song to even it all out. Ungh. Um, enjoy, I guess...
[The Theme Song plays... the Door Sequence does its thing...
and our scene opens...]
[Scene: SoL Bridge. Tom and Crow are onstage, wearing turbans and
surrounded by phones. The phones ring on and off at random intervals.
Mike walks in from stage left.]
MIKE: Hi, everyone, welcome to the Satellite of Love. I’m Mike,
and... hey, guys, whatcha doing now?
TOM: Oh, it’s quite simple, Mike! Know how we want to make those
engine improvements so we can blast out of the tractor beam coming
from Brain Guy on that godforsaken rock down there?
MIKE: Well, that ‘godforsaken rock’, as you put it, is my home planet,
but otherwise I catch your drift.
CROW: And know how the Nanites demanded pay next time they did
anything like that?
MIKE: Yeah, a little ridiculous, I know... but what does this have to
do with the swami outfits and speakerphones?
TOM: Well, this is our plan to come up with the Nanites’ scratch!
We’re running one of those ‘psychic hotlines’ you see advertised all
the time on late-night cable and cult TV shows with unlikely premises
but surprisingly large viewerships! And we’re raking in the dough!
[A phone rings.]
CROW: I’ll get that. (He picks up the receiver with one claw.) Hello,
Cosmic Truth Satellite Hotline? Yes, this is Swami
Crowmeoevich-Binkinanda speaking. Oh, yes, hello again, Kimberly.
Shall we resume where we left off on your last call?
MIKE: <whispering to Tom> How’s he gonna pull this off?
TOM: <whispering to Mike> You’d be amazed. He’s a bot with a gift.
Now, shut up, so the caller doesn’t hear us.
CROW: <continuing> No, that was just... the spirit voices. Speaking to
me. Now, when we last spoke, you were speaking of your romantic
travails? Yes. Now, the voices are telling me that communicating better
with your loved ones is the key to all your problems...
MIKE: <whispering at Cambot/audience> We’ll be right back.
[Commercials. Maybe one for the Cosmic Truth Satellite Hotline? Who
knows?]
[We’re back to the SoL.]
CROW: <still on phone>... and in conclusion, Kimberly, just keep
speaking your mind and cutting down on the flaming Pop-tarts, and life
should be better. Thanks, and call again! (hangs up phone)
MIKE: Wow, Crow, you really do have a talent for this. I’m impressed.
CROW: Yep, and it’s really paying off! We’re rolling in green!
[From the mass of phones, we can still see the Mad Sign going off.]
MIKE: That’s great, but Gilligan, the Professor, and Mary Ann are
calling. (presses the light) Hello, Evil Geniuses for a Better
Tomorrow?
[Scene: Castle Forrester. Pearl, Brain Guy, and Bobo are just kind of
... loitering.]
PEARL: Well, I *guess* it’s nice to see that somewhere, someone is
excited about something. You see, down here we’ve all caught cases
of... acute apathy.
[SoL. M&TB are gasping.]
TOM: Pearl! Not... acute apathy! What happened?
[Castle Forrester]
BRAIN GUY: I have the story. Basically, it was just a normal day...
plotting to take over the universe... but then, we realized *nothing
was happening*. Bobo wasn’t breaking anything or being stupid or
disgusting.
BOBO: Lawgiver wasn’t being the evil schemer she usually is.
PEARL: And Brain Guy wasn’t playing any weird braintricks on anyone.
By then it was too acute to do anything about.
[SoL]
MIKE: Well, I guess this means no fanfic today, Pearl?
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: And it’s there that your train of thought derails, Nelsonius
Maximus. Of *course* we have a fanfic for you! It’s called “Katira’s
Tale”, and it’s a sequel to that Disney ‘classic’ _Hercules_.
[SoL]
CROW: <flabbergasted> Disney... sequel?
MIKE: Oh, you are *evil*.
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Well, you know what they say. Not rain nor sleet nor acute
apathy can keep a Forrester from delivering her fanfic! Relish the
pain, Waste O’ Electrons and pals! Brain Guy, do the... thing.
BRAIN GUY: Uh, I guess so. (He does the post-sending Brain Guy thing,
but a little lacklusterly.)
[SoL]
TOM: WE GOT FANBOY SEQUEL SIGN!
[6]
[5]
[4]
[3]
[2]
[1]
[SoL Theater. M&TB take their usual seats.]
TOM: Actually, I rather liked the old Hercules myth. Haven’t seen the
movie, though, seeing as that was something like 500 years ago and it’s
long disappeared from the earth.
CROW: I’ve seen it. Believe me, this whole disappearing-from-the-Earth
gag is a *good* thing.
> Fatal Destiny:
CROW: Uh oh, is this gonna be anything like ‘Altered Destiny’?
(the Bots shudder)
MIKE: Altered Destiny?! What’s that?
CROW: Oh, nothing. A piece of Sonic crud we got when the other guy was
here.
> Katira’s Tale
TOM: ... is prehensile?
(Tom does his own rimshot. Crow and Mike groan.)
> written by Erato
MIKE: Uh, who’s Erato?
TOM: Let me check my inner database... hmm... the ancient Greek muse
of poetry.
MIKE: Ahh... <sarcasm, of course> That would explain why her name is
attached to a work of prose!
> The girl sighed, and took out her flute. She had failed to get
> anything today, and her empty stomach protested with hunger.
TOM: <stomach> Hey, babe, I don’t care what kind of a diet you’re on,
one rice cake will *not* do it!
CROW: That reminds me, I'm gonna go get some nachos.
Mike: Sit down. (pulls Crow back into his seat)
> A few sweet notes were played on the flute, but the maiden soon took > it out of her mouth,
MIKE: Hey, since when do you put a flute in your mouth?!
(Bots look at Mike)
MIKE: All right, it was lame, but it kept Crow from making a comment.
CROW: Hey!
> and curled up with her shabby blanket
TOM: <yet-unnamed protagonist> Ahhh, Boo Boo Bankie.
> and a few animal skins. Perhaps tomorrow would turn out better.
CROW: <singing falsetto> Tomorrow, tomorrow, there’s always
tomorrow...
> The girl gazed into the starlit heavens, she gazed toward the > Acropolis
> in the distance, and toward far-away Mt. Olympus, her longed-for home.
> As she watched the constellations in the sky, she could find and name
> them all,
MIKE: <Homer Simpson> Uh, that's Andy the Cowboy and that's
Jack... the Cowboy.
> she began to hum softly.
TOM: Yay! Two back-to-back pseudo-run-on sentences!
> She took up her flute once more, and played the music for awhile. > She
> removed the flute, and hummed the tune again. Soon, the humming > turned
> into lyrics.
MIKE: I have a bad feeling about this...
> SONG CUE:
ALL: Nooooooooooo!
> Longing
CROW: I’m longing for some nachos.
TOM: I’m longing for the fanfic to end.
MIKE: I’m longing to *get off this sattellite* and *go home* and
*see my girlfriend again* and...
(Mike continues ranting while the bots speak)
TOM: Uh oh, I think Mike vaporlocked. Shock him, will ya?
CROW: Gladly.
(Crow scuffs his unseen feet on the theater carpet and gives Mike an
electric shock.)
MIKE: And... aaaaaaaieeee! What was that for??
CROW: Another vaporlock, Mike.
Mike: Ah.
> (original melody)
CROW: Albeit one similar to ‘I Know a Song that Gets on Everybody’s
Nerves’.
> The girl:
> I look into the world above
> And see a far-off hope
MIKE: Aww, that? That’s just a skeet pellet.
> I want to spread wings and fly
> Fly away home
> But baby, who’m I kiddin’?
CROW: Hmm... your imaginary friend Bosco?
> It’ll never happen
> Rogues don’t become goddesses
TOM: I sense that this is the Exposition Song.
ALL: Nooooooooooo!
> I want to see my fabled kin
MIKE: <matronly voice> But honey... you wouldn’t hug Aunt Rhea at the
*last* reunion...
> I want to step among the stars
CROW: Enh, no... but you *can* sleep with the fishes!
> I walk free among the wilderness
> Yet why am I behind bars?
TOM: Well, Protagonist Girl, when you commit all those Class A
felonies...
>Bars of neverness
MIKE: Wow, philosophical. Or acid-trippy.
> Look at me
CROW: See me, feel me, touch me, heal me.
> Here I am
ALL: <singing> Stuck in the middle with you...
> The plebeian of Greece
TOM: Wait... Mike, weren’t there a LOT of plebeians in Greece?
Millions of the buggers?
MIKE: Yeah, Tommy boy, but it’s called poetic license. Although this
metaphor should get Erato the equivalent of a reckless-driving
citation.
> Here I am
ALL: <singing> Back on the road again...
> The nameless one
CROW: Yep... c’mon, Erato, would it hurt so bad to give your
protagonist a NAME already?!
> The rapscallion and thief
(M&TB begin humming/whistling “The Rascal King” by the
Mighty Mighty Bosstones.)
> I know the Olympians sit high and far above
> Looking on the mortals
TOM: And smiting them with locusts and suchlike...
MIKE: And cackling maniacally...
CROW: <Olympian> Smite, smite, smite! This is fun!! You know,
I think I’d like to decide who liv -
MIKE: <cutting Crow off> We’ll see about that.
> The goddesses in finest dress
> While I lie, overlooked, in rags
TOM: Isn’t capitalism *fun*?
> I’m longing to know
> Longing to know
CROW: What? The answers to the Bio final?
MIKE: Why, if God is an all-merciful being, there is so much
suffering in the world?
TOM: What that chick is actually singing in
“Neunundneunzig Luftballoons”?
> Will I ever stroll with them
MIKE: Leisurely Walking... OF THE GODS!!
> Be among them
> I think I know the answer
> And I think that it is “no”
CROW: Well, Protagonist Girl, can you blame ‘em? Who would actually
hang out with *you*?
> Tonight lay here hungry
> Again, tonight, I starve
> But this is all too common
> A ritual
> How pitiful
> A ritual with me
> So normal here with me
TOM: OK, so she practically never eats... shouldn’t she be
long-dead by now?
> No one sees me in the streets
> No one there would care
> I should be better off
> After all, I’m an immortal’s daughter
MIKE: Um... all righty... guys, what the Inferno is going on?!?
CROW: Search me. I think she just admitted to being another one of
Zeus’s little mistakes...
MIKE: Oh, like half of ancient Greece?
CROW: Yeah, basically.
> I’ll never go
> And this I’m sure I know
> Yet still I hope
> I’ll never forget who I’m meant to be
TOM: What an inspirational message! “Kids, NEVER forget you were
meant to be a woebegone skank!”
> ***
CROW: Oooohhh... Tribble menage a trois.
MIKE: Enh, I should probably get on you for that one, but after all
the Tribble jokes I pulled in _X_, that one can get through.
> With this slight hope,
ALL: <singing> We’ve got sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiight hopes! We’ve got
sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight hopes!
> she fell asleep.
CROW: Oh, good. That means the song is officially over.
> Bright and early the next morning, the girl woke, picked up her > empty
> pouch and flute, and left her camp.
TOM: Uh oh, her Girl Scout counselor’s gonna make her miss swimming
and lanyards after they get her back.
> She headed into town. Many persons were crowding about the agora,
CROW: <townperson> What a *lovely* sweater!
MIKE: Crow, that’s *angora*. The Agora was a large open-air
marketplace and secular social area in ancient Athens.
CROW: <juvenile voice> I knew that! Always trying to spoil a little
bot’s fun, you big human bully! I’m gonna tell Gypsy on you!!
(Crow starts sniffling as if he’s about to throw a tantrum.)
MIKE: <comforting Crow> There, there, I’m sorr... hey!
CROW: <normal self> Ha ha, made ya comfort!
> and no one noticed a dark-cloaked figure make her way through the mobs > of
> people.
TOM: <narrator> This was Mos Eisley, after all. Jawas were
*everywhere*!
> Normally, the marketplace wasn’t quite this busy, and she wondered > what
> the occasion was. Looking for any sign of the presumed event, she
> casually swiped a loaf of pita bread off one of the stands.
MIKE: All right... so, if noone is watching,
this character would rather steal one loaf of crummy pita bread than a
rather large amount of money? I’m really close to giving up on your
protagonist here, Erato!
> No one noticed that either, thankfully. She began nibbling on the bread,
TOM: <Protagonist Girl> Ow! My tooth!
MIKE: Crappy bread?
TOM: Yeah.
> being careful to save some for later, since chances were it would be
> all
> she’d have for a few days at least.
CROW: And at the last of those three days, she would also get the
added benefit of penicillin!
> She put the rest of the bread in her pouch, and continued her rounds
> through the city. She heard some commotion off to her right, and > turned
> to see what was happening.
MIKE: It's a stampede! Quick, she stopped. Get her!
> A young man, appearing not much older than
> she, was trying vainly to pass through the crowds as well.
TOM: Oh, yeah, quite vainly. Just look at him checking himself out in
all the windows...
> The flute player looked at him curiously. She’d never seen him before.
> Many teenage girls were throwing themselves all over the stranger,
MIKE: Why, look, my friends, it’s Leo DiCaprio! Wave to the nice teen
idol, everybody!
(M&TB wave at the screen)
> and she stifled a laugh. Yes, the guy, whoever he was, was quite handsome
> indeed, but otherwise, she saw no reason for the fanatic groupies to be
> going crazy over him.
CROW: They’re *groupies*. They gotta follow *someone*. It was either
that guy or the Agora equivalent of C.M.O.T. Dibbler.
TOM: Hmm... how do you say “Say, groupies, how’d ya like a
Sensational Sausage? Get them while they’re hot! At a dollar and
fifty pence, I’m cuttin’ me own throat on this deal!” in archaic
Greek, anyway?
MIKE: Say, did that guy before me ever tell you two that you take
your Pratchett way too seriously?
TOM: Oh, yeah, he did! When we got into the Susan Death spiel that
one time!
MIKE: (sighs) I’m just not gonna ask.
> She kept watching him. As he was being chased, she saw an expression of
> relief cross his face, and he ducked into an alley. The groupies passed
> right by the alley, never seeing the boy just around the corner.
CROW: Why look! It’s Plot Contrivance #7! I spotted a numbered plot
contrivance, I get a RAMchip, nah nah na nah naaaah...
TOM: <upset> Shut up! Just shut up!
> The flute girl shook her head in pity, and pulled out her flute.
CROW: Eeeewwww, in public?
MIKE: Just tell me why you needed to give us that image, Crow. Just
*why*?
> Herself in a small alley, she began to play.
(Mike’s hand starts going for Crow’s beak.)
CROW: Geez, have faith in me, Mikey! That one’s too easy anyway!
MIKE: Oh. Sorry there. Tell you what... I’ll give you all the
RAMchips you want if you can keep from making off-color comments for
the entire fanfic, ok?
CROW: Deal!
> The notes were barely audible over the crowds, but luckily, she got a few
> coins tossed near her feet. She gratefully stuck them in her pouch along
> with the pita. She looked to see how the stranger was doing. His golden
> armor flashed in the sun as he raced through the throngs of people.
> The flute girl took pity on him, and grabbed his hand, yanking him to
> safety,
CROW: <talking to himself> You can do it, Crow. You don’t need to
make a comment there.
TOM: Wow, I admire your courage, brother.
CROW: Thanks, man. It’s just one riff at a time.
> as he was running past. He put on hand to his head, wiping away some of
> the sweat, as he stood up. He looked at the flute player, seeing only a
> vaguely human form concealed in a worn, dark brown cloak.
MIKE: Sooo... vaguely humanoid, dark brown concealing cloak, steals
stuff... this is *so* Jawa.
> It didn’t matter, though. Whoever it was, she, or he, he couldn’t tell
> which, had helped him out.
CROW: "She then mutated into an horrible monster. The man
quickly slew it. End of story." Alright, it's over, I'm gone.
TOM: You should know by now that that never works...
> “Gee, thanks,” he said, panting.
TOM: PANTS PARTY!!!
ALL: (start chanting ‘Pants, pants, pants!!’)
> “No prob. Come on, let’s get you out of here before the welcoming
> committee finds you again,” she replied. She led the boy though some
> back alleys, until they emerged outside in the surrounding meadows and
> forests.
TOM: So *what*, they just have a whole bunch of sylvan glades in a
*major metropolitan area* within walking distance of the
*main secular area of millions*???
MIKE: Steady, Tommy. You know what? I’ll give you the same deal as
Crow got, but only if you can keep from grammarflaming or getting
overly obsessed about the continuity, all right?
TOM: OK... but I can still gripe about Disney bastardized mythology,
right?
MIKE: Oh, of course. Can’t expect me to take that away from you...
> “Thanks a lot,” he repeated, sitting underneath a tree. The flute
> girl finally got her first good look at the boy.
CROW: Yeah, yeah, we know, boy meets girl. Now, give us some plot
here...