MiSTed - Roland Warner's "Hostage" (2/4)
Bill Livingston
CROW: Maybe Legos is the answer!
MIKE: Well, think about it for a while.
> The were surrounded by several shields of
>glass. It resembled twentieth century window panels on doors. The outside
>showed absolutely nothing.
>
TOM: So the only thing between him and horrible asphyxiation is a few
inches of glass?
MIKE: It's storm window technology of the future!
>They passed several stores including Steffano's Neptunian Food Supply,
>Northern Dolls, Old Times Dance Floor, Lightning VR, and several other
>stores with interesting names.
MIKE: Unlike these.
> The car pulled off the highway and followed
>a deserted street. The car stopped behind a rock and Lowell exited the car
>and pressed a button on the side. The car shrunk and he placed the it in
>his pocket.
CROW: Blithely ignoring several laws of physical mass to do so.
> Timothy picked up a suit and pulled it over his body. He handed
>Lowell a suit and Lowell did the same thing.
TOM: Hey! Union rules say use a phone booth to change into the long johns
there, pal!
CROW: There's just no respect for tradition any more.
> They walked over to the
>secured exit to dome and Lowell entered a four digit code into the
>computer. He then placed his forehead against the wall.
TOM: Soon he was fast asleep.
> Then, he placed his
>finger against another metal panel. Last, he did a retina scan and a door
>opened.
>
>"Sure your not missing anything?" Timothy remarked and smiled at his own
>comment.
MIKE: Well, at least *someone* did.
> Lowell showed no reaction as he pushed a button on the wall. The
>door closed and another opened to a cave. Lowell entered the opening and
>pushed the button on the other side. The door closed and they were on the
>outside.
TOM: HOT - DOOR - ACTION!
> Timothy had always fantasized about visiting the outside of any
>planet, this was his first time. The cave was very twisty and dark.
CROW: Much like the plot.
> Lowell
>started up a flashlight from his little suitcase he brought with him. The
>light showed nothing interesting to them but somewhere down there, Timothy
>knew it was a gold mine.
>
MIKE: Wait, I thought he wanted viruses.
TOM: He's learned to keep his goals flexible.
>"Follow me, if you get lost, it's not my fault. This could be dangerous.
>Don't trip. Watch what you pick up, it could tear a hole in your suit."
>
CROW: And no running with scissors!
>"Okay, mother."
>
TOM: [Norman Bates] Oh God, Mother! Blood!
>He followed the path until it separated into two paths. Lowell took the one
>on the right. There were several other twists but Lowell managed to take
>the right spot.
>
>"This is the spot." Lowell said as they came to a stop. "Pull out your
>vials and get it."
>
TOM: Boy, Lowell doesn't fool around with small talk, huh?
MIKE: I don't think he meant it like that.
>"Sure, hold on, let me get them."
>
>Timothy pulled out the two vials and exposed them to the virus. He then
>covered them back up and it turned purple.
>
CROW: That's why you should always practice Safe Virus-ing.
>"That's just the pressure against the virus."
>
>He placed the vial inside the box and sucked the virus that seeped into it.
>
ALL: Ewwwwwwwww!
>They then followed the same path back out of the cave. As they reached the
>door, Lowell pushed the button and the door opened. He then pulled a gun on
>Timothy.
>
MIKE: [Lowell] You bastard! I pushed the button - now where's my yummy
food pellet?!?
>"CIA. Put your hands up, your under arrest Mr. Warner, or should I say, Mr.
>Douglas Eunate."
>
>"What are you doing, Lowell? I thought you were helping me?"
>
>"Under cover cop, Lloyd Hienrich, come with me."
>
TOM: Cop, CIA - same thing, really.
CROW: [Lloyd] Freeze! Generic law-enforcement official!
>Lloyd entered the room and turned to watch Timothy enter the room.
>
>There was no Timothy.
>
TOM: No "thing" called Douglas Eunate. Roland Warner was found, unharmed
and of normal size, 2000 miles away.
>"Dammit, Timothy! Where are you?" Lloyd called as if he expected an answer.
>
CROW: [Timothy] Over here. [pause] Oh, what a giveaway!
>He entered back into the cave and looked all around the area he was
>currently in. Then came the two passages. He chose the one to the right. He
>entered and saw nothing. But the one thing he did hear was deep breathing.
>
MIKE: Huuuh huuuh huuuh, what kind of shoes are you wearing? Huuuh
huuuh huuuh.
>He's got to be around here, but where. Probably waiting for me. Got to be
>cautious. Lloyd thought to himself.
>
>Then a yell rang out
TOM: Somebody must have fired a shout!
> and a rock was thrown onto Lloyd's head and he
>stumbled to the ground and fell to the ground,
CROW: This image brought to you by the Ground Council.
> alive but unconscious.
>
>Timothy ran out of the cave and took a disinfectant shower and left the
>little chamber. He was back in the oxygenated zone.
MIKE: [sportscaster] He's in the Oxygenated Zone - he's breathing at will!
> He got out of his suit
>and pulled out his car from his suitcase he had left behind. He drove back
>onto the highway and noticed that night had already come. He needed to get
>back to his apartment and into a bed.
CROW: Once he pulled the covers over his head, he'd be safe.
> As he pulled back onto the highway, a
>band of police vehicles roared down the streets towards the cave Timothy
>had just left.
TOM: Aaaah! I'm getting "It Lives By Night" flashbacks!
CROW: You better cut that squeak out!
> Later, he would learn that Hienrich had woken up and called
>the police from his car radio.
>
TOM: He was the 10th caller and won $100.
>He pulled into Vacation motel and rode the elevator to the top floor. After
>he entered his room, he immediately fell asleep on the bed.
MIKE: [Tim] I better get my things and get outta heZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!
> The next
>morning, before he finished taking his shower, he wandered over to the
>intercom and ordered scrambled eggs, orange juice, and toast.
TOM: And as a result, got soap suds all over the carpet.
CROW: There goes the damage deposit.
> As he
>finished his shower, the maid had brought the food for him and took the
>money he had left on the counter.
CROW: Ew, he left her part of his forehead!
> Behind the head of the bed, there was a
>giant open window. Outside, you could see Venus all the way to the line of
>the horizon. There were several oddly shaped towers, most were used by
>banks and businesses of high income.
MIKE: And a dark tower with a gunslinger standing outside.
> There was a small passenger jet flying
>just below the frame of the dome. The streets were semi-clear of traffic
>except for the people beginning their shifts early or leavig the night
>shift. The next building was a pyramid shaped attourneys office.
CROW: Ah, the offices of Tutenkhamen, Nefertiti, Cheops & Smith.
> Timothy
>left the window and walked over to the round corner table. He cut the
>holovision on and started to eat. The news anchorman, George O'Hare,
MIKE: The busiest anchorman in America...
>began talking about what had occurred the day before.
>
>". . . Agent Z, as the police are referring to him,
TOM: It's the Blood Waters of Agent Z.
CROW: [Dr. Z] Henroid - Virus of Deceit!
> was found near the
>Venusian Caverns where the fabled Henroid Syndrome was said to have been
>found. The only thing police are telling us is that the famous Hunter is
>involved.
TOM: White hunter, black heart!
> Bob, can we have a picture on the screen?"
>
MIKE: [Bob] Here's a ducky, and here's a bunny, and here's a horsie, and...
>The platform popped up with a hologram of Timothy in the cave the night of
>the incident.
>
>"This is Timothy Warner. If you see him, call 555-6496."
>
CROW: And remember, if Timothy Warner's not at your house in 30 minutes
or less, the next virus is free.
>"Thank you, George. In other news tonight, Uranus had a short . . ."
MIKE: "Uranus had a short *BLANK*". Charles Nelson Reilly?
TOM: [Charles Nelson Reilly] I said "Keister", Gene! A-huh-huh!
>Timothy shut off the holovision.
>
>"I shouldn't have trusted him. He . . ." The doorbell rang.
>
>Timothy peered through the hole in the door and saw the manager of the
>resort at his door. Below in his hands, he had a Sun 65 Shock Laser.
>
MIKE: [manager] Take the towels out of the suitcase, and no one gets hurt!
>Another knock.
>
>"Mr. Warner, open the door, please."
>
>"Hang on."
>
>He searched the room for another way out. He looked for a fire escape but
>found none. He opened the window to see what had happened and saw it
>hanging in shambles on the ground. He had only one solution left.
TOM: Ending the story now! Please?!?
> He ran
>into his room and grabbed his suitcase. As he was running back to the
>kitchen windows, he heard a crack at the door. He grabbed onto the ledge
>and eased himself outside. He was pulling his foot out when the door let
>loose with a giant crack and the manager entered the room.
>
CROW: Boy, they're really strict on that 11:00 AM check-out!
>"Mr. Warner, I need to speak to you."
>
TOM: [Manager] Have you ever considered the advantages of switching to
that dime-a-minute long distance service?!?
>Timothy pulled his left foot across his right and did an about face.
MIKE: Then he did the hokey-pokey and turned himself about!
CROW: Y'know, I've been thinking - that really *is* what it's al about!
> He
>reached up towards the roof and hauled himself onto it. The roof was at a
>slant but not very steep. He turned and looked across the gap
CROW: Nooooo! That means they're still running those stupid ads after
all these years!
TOM: Everybody in Viruses.
> between the
>resort and the attourney building across the street. Not much more than
>about 5 yards since the building expands as it grows.
MIKE: Night of the Living Motel!
> He turns around and
>starts walking towards the center of the building. A million thoughts raced
>through his mind as he turned to face the gap.
CROW: For example, how he was just mad about Saffron.
> His footsteps thundered as
>he ran across the roof and jumped with a bound. He began falling. After his
>foot left the ledge, he quickly went for his rocket switch.
MIKE: Wait, don't tell me - he has a Saturn V in his suitcase along
with the car!
> After a few
>jiggles, the rockets still wouldn't come out.
CROW: Well, it's like they always say: No matter how you wiggle and dance,
the last rocket always lands in your pants.
> The fall continued. 30. 29.
>28. At floor 27, he grabbed on to the ledge up above it and flew into the
>window. He landed on a desk where an attourney's hard work was demolished.
>
MIKE: Well, see - the guy did at least *one* good thing in the story.
>"What the hell?" The attourney backed away from his desk. "What are you
>doing? You just ruined two straight days worth of work!"
>
>"So sue me."
TOM: And he did. And the guy lost everything and the story was over.
The end.
MIKE: That's never going to work.
TOM: Ha! They told that to Alexander Graham Cracker just before he
invented the busy signal!
> Timothy picked himself off the desk and checked to make sure
>he was all right. After checking, he ran through the hallway and ducking
>into an closet as one attourney was exiting his office.
>
CROW: So his brilliant escape plan is - hide in a closet.
MIKE: How devilishly clever! No wonder the police have never caught him!
>The people in the other rooms began clambering through the halls. Timothy
>acted quickly and ran into a door across the hallway. He found himself in a
>small junk room filled with old twentieth century computers and file
>cabinets that were either damaged or taken apart.
CROW: "File Manager has encountered a General Protection Fault.
(A)bort/(R)etry/(F)ail?"
> Timothy pulled a wire
>from one of the computers against the wall and opened up his suitcase. He
>attached the wire to the computer console and ran it up to the microchip
>behind his ear. He booted up the computer and the screen popped up:
TOM: "You've Got Mail"
>
> _________________________________________________________________
>
> Main Menu
>
CROW: I'll have the grilled pork chops with corn and creamed potatoes,
a salad with bleu cheese dressing, and a glass of Moon Sprit.
> This is the main menu for computer console #52706. If you have any
> questions, call the number on the bottom.
>
MIKE: 1-800-VIRUS-FUN!
> These are the following commands usable on this server.
>
> 1) Pieces Exchange
> 2) Make a New Command
TOM: Sit!
MIKE: Roll Over!
CROW: Shake! Good Head Computer!
> 3) Name Server
> 4) Program on Disk
> 5) New Commands
>
> _________________________________________________________________
>
>He then pressed 3 for name server. The screen showed this text:
>
> _________________________________________________________________
CROW: Not very descriptive, is it?
>
> Name Menu
MIKE: I name this menu "Steve"!
>
> Current name:Timothy Warner
>
> Existing names:Brian Hardy
TOM: Erhardt?
CROW: Tom! No, shhh!
> Douglas Eunate
> Henry Collinger
> Earl Smith
> Dean King
>
> 1. Delete Name
> 2. Enter New Name
> 3. Switch Name
ALL: Jimmy Smits.
> 4. Description of Name
> 5. Change Name Description
> 6. Return to Main Menu
> _________________________________________________________________
>
>Timothy pressed 3 and typed in Dean King. The computer screen promptly
>replaced the name and returned to the name menu. He pressed 1 and typed in
>two names, Timothy Warner and Douglas Eunate. The computer erased the two
>names from it's hard drive and returned back to the name menu again.
MIKE: And we get to hear every excruciating detail of it!
>
>He pressed 6 and then 2 for Piece Exchange.
>
> _________________________________________________________________
>
> Money Exchange
>
MIKE: Buy dollars! Sell Krugerands! Exchange Zlotys for Pongos!
CROW: Careful, currency speculation can wipe you out!
> This is the menu for Piece Exchange, this will change your Piece flow from
> the small chip to the main chip in the forehead.
>
> These are the following commands:
>
TOM: [Mojo Jojo] These are the commands that follow! These commands, which
I am about to tell you, will be following, because I am going to tell
you these commands! The following commands are these! These commands,
which I shall now tell you, shall be the commands that follow!
> 1) Transfer Pieces from Forehead to Small Chip
> 2) Transfer Pieces from Small Chip to Forehead
> 3) Transfer Pieces from Hard Drive to Small Chip
MIKE: Transfer Forehead From Chip to Small Hard Pieces.
CROW: Transfer Potato Chip from Chinette Pieces to Onion Dip.
TOM: Transfer Story from Head to Some Misbegotten Limbo.
> 4) Return to the Main Menu
>
> _________________________________________________________________
>
>He pressed 2.
>
TOM: And his head produced a General Protection Fault and shut down.
The End.
MIKE You keep doing that, and it keeps not working.
>"How much would you like to transfer? You currently have 2,000 pieces in
>the forehead chip and 100, 000 in the small chip."
>
>"600" He typed in.
>
CROW: Oooooh, last of the big spenders.
>He could feel the computer vibrating as it exchanged the money from behind
>his ear to the forehead chip.
>
MIKE: Now that's just obscene!
CROW: Oh, yeah, baby! Do my financial transactions just like that!
>Moments later, the computer started back up.
>
TOM: [Computer] I WASN'T ASLEEP! Huh? Wha?
>"Done, you now have 2,600 pieces in your forehead chip and 99,400 pieces in
>the small chip. Would you like to transfer more? Y (Yes) or N (No)."
>
>"N"
>
CROW: He may be a terrorist, but at least he's thrifty.
>The computer returned to the main menu and Dean shut it off. He detached
>the wire from behind his ear and the console.
TOM: That'd be pretty neat - just put in an auxiliary jack and presto!
Built-in Walkman!
> He then closed the console
>and placed it inside of the suitcase. He could hear no voices in the
>hallway
MIKE: Just in his head.
> and considered it clear. He walked down the hallway and pressed the
>button for the transporter.
CROW: [Scotty] Cap'n ah canna do it! We need moor powerrrrrrrr!
> He stepped onto the platform and called out
>"Floor one."
MIKE: For all your futuristic wicker needs!
> Instantly, a beam faded him from sight and reformed him on the
>first floor.
>
TOM: [singing] Quicker than a ray of light...
>He exited the building and pulled the little miniature car from his pocket.
>He pressed the button on the bottom of the car and watched it expand.
CROW: Soon the button was over 40 feet wide.
> He
>tossed the suitcase in and drove onto the street. At the next building, he
>stopped to use the Monday Realty machine to buy a house. Then, he drove to
>Jupiter's Pet Store and purchased a big hamster.
>
TOM: Uh-oh. I don't like where this is heading!
>After he reached his new home,
TOM: Whew!
MIKE: What?
TOM: Nothing, now. But if he had headed to the hardware store and
bought duct tape, I was going to self-destruct.
> he pulled out his computer console again and
>pulled a pipe from the inside of the console.
CROW: Yes, even interplanetary criminals enjoy the full rich taste of
Sir Walter Raleigh pipe tobacco.
> He then attached the small
>black box inside his suitcase to the computer console, started up the
>computer, and pressed 6 at the main menu.
>
>___________________________________________________________________________
TOM: He flatlined! MEDIC!!!!!!!
>
> New Commands Menu
>
> This is the menu for commands or programs that have either installed or
> made by the user. These are the programs:
>
> 1) Bio-safety Level 4 Lab Builder.
MIKE: A.K.A. "My First Germ Warfare Workshop"
> 2) Return to Main Menu
>
>___________________________________________________________________________
>
>He pressed 1 and the console began working. It unfolded into a room of
>about 15 feet long and 15 feet wide. Inside the room, it had a giant pane
>with two rubber gloves hanging in it.
>
TOM: Which is ironic, seeing as how this whole story is a giant pain!
>He opened a small drawer on the side of the lab, inserted the box with the
>vials inside it, and pressed a button the side. The cubicle spewed out the
>oxygen inside it.
>
ALL: *Spew and a half!!!*
>Dean opened the door, entered the mini-lab, and placed his hands inside the
>rubber gloves.
TOM: Then he got out the Clorox and started scrubbing away.
> He reached to the side, pulled the box over to glass frame,
>and opened it. Inside contained ten vials including the Henroid Syndrome.
MIKE: According to Revelations, he's running a 3 vial surplus.
>He pulled the top off of the vial marked "CSP" and released it into the
>air. Then, "Ebola Air", "Zaire Pneumonia", "SDS", "Martian Fever", "Henroid
>Syndrome", "AIDS Air", "Cold", and several assorted bacteria mixed together
>in the last vial.
>
CROW: This is the weirdest potato salad recipe I've ever seen.
>He pulled out of the lab, picked up the cage with the hamster in it, placed
>it in another drawer on the other side of the mini-lab, and pushed a
>button. The cage then was exposed to the lethal air, started bleed, and, a
>minute later, exploded.
>
CROW: Cages got blood?
TOM: Fortunately, the hamster inside the cage was perfectly unharmed.
>Dean felt the shiver entering back into his spine as he watched the hamster
>explode as he entered the mini-lab.
CROW: Boy, first disemboweled birds, now exploding hamsters.
MIKE: Sounds like someone has animal issues.
TOM: "Mr. Warner? PETA on line one."
> He pressed another button on the inside
>panel and watched the air pressure enter the lab. He could hear the whoosh
>of air as the box sucked the virus into it and slammed it shut. He pressed
>another button and the box left the lab.
CROW: Then he pressed another button, and even more buttons appeared.
Dean was in the grip of Buttonmania!
> He released a little of the virus
>back into the lab and it quickly multiplied inside it.
>
TOM: So by mixing whole lot of old viruses, you create an entirely brand new
virus?
MIKE: Roland probably just saw how they mix paint and thought, "Hey!!!!!"
>He exited it and stepped on a pedal.
MIKE: Imagine his embarrassment when it turned out to be his mouse.
> The lab began to whir and click. From
>the four corners, there were black metal plates which began covering the
>entire lab. The lab began looking like a medium sized egg.
TOM: A really *big* medium sized egg, of course.
> He left the room
>and entered the bedroom where he slept for the rest of the night.
>
>The next morning, Dean quickly packed up his belongings, exited his house,
>and left the black egg behind. He pulled the car out of his pocket and
>inflated it.
CROW: And boy, are his lungs tired.
MIKE: Hope he didn't burn his lips on the tailpipe.
> He entered the car when Clark entered the car in the passenger
>side.
>
TOM: The random return of the random character.
>"I saw the news this morning, you haven't gone straight. Timothy, what are
>you doing?"
>
>"First, it's Dean King now.
CROW: He's put his hair up in spikes, and he's looking for somebody to
throw a fight.
> Second, get out of the car."
>
>"All right then, Dean, I want to know what you are doing. Maybe I can
>help."
>
MIKE: A friend is someone who will help you wage horrible biowarfare on
the entire galaxy.
>"You can't help."
>
>"You were found in the construction cave where the Henroid Syndrome was
>found. That means that whatever you were doing, deals with a virus. What
>are you up to?"
>
MIKE: Wow, viruses are popular in the future.
TOM: Yeah, that's just this month. Next month, Bacteriophages will be all
the rage.
>"Clark, listen to me. When I was in that cave, I had a informant I thought
>I could trust.
MIKE: Unfortunately, it was Linda Tripp.
> That trust was broken when he turned on me and I found out
>he was an undercover agent. I don't trust anyone anymore.
TOM: [Dean] Not even my other identities! They're all laughing at me!
> Get out of the
>car."
>
>"I'm afraid I can't do that."
CROW: [HAL9000] Dave.
> Clark pulled out a laser. "You see, I want to
>know what you are up to with that virus."
>
>"All right then, you follow me to Saturn and we'll talk there but only
>there."
>
>"Only if I drive."
>
>"Sure."
>
TOM: Oh, it's a friendly, low-key kind of kidnapping.
>Clark moved into the driver's side and started up the car. He began driving
>down the road when Dean slipped his hand to his watch and pressed two
>buttons.
TOM: Then he turned invisible.
CROW: It's just an OPTICAL ILUUUUUUUUUUUUSION!
MIKE: Cut it out, fellas! You'll invoke the presence of Jim Stafford!
TOM & CROW: GAAAHHHH!
> The car began to swerve and hit the side of the Boulder Museum.
>
TOM: Slightly damaging some of the precious boulders inside.
>The foam cushioned Dean on his side but nothing came out on Clark's side.
>He was flung out through the windshield and landed directly on in the
>twentieth century display of knives.
>
CROW: Get the point?
MIKE & TOM: D'OH!
>Dean left the car with his suitcase and ran across the sidewalk, past
>several zero-gravity bikes and mind cars.
TOM: "Mind Cars"?
CROW: You know: like the Ford Cerebellum, or the Pontiac Medulla SX2000.
> He slowed to a walk as the police
>cars ran past him and to the accident. He now needed another car.
>
>Nearby, there was a Gerald Cars machine sitting along Hansen Avenue.
CROW: [singing] Mmmmmmmmmmmm-bop, bop-shwop-shbop-mmmmmmmmm-
MIKE: Plese, no.
> Dean
>rushed over to the machine and placed his forehead against the machine.
>
TOM: [Car machine] Hey! Not on the first date, pal!
>"Hello Mr. King, what would you like?"
>
MIKE: [King] Well, let's see, I'm standing here at a car machine, with
my wallet sticking out my forehead - I think I'd like a beer.
>"I'd like to buy a car."
>
>"What type of car would you like?"
>
>"A Lester Style 2015 make and model."
>
CROW: Let's see, the car machine is Gerald, and the car is Lester.
MIKE: This must be Roland's way of giving a shout out to his pals.
>"Okay, that'll be 150 pieces or would you like to pay it in installments?"
>
>"I'll pay it now."
>
>The machine whirred and clicked.
>
TOM: Typical! That's all machines ever get to do - whir and click, click
and whir!
CROW: We are *soooooo* stereotyped, it's not even funny!
MIKE: Look, let it go - you two were just wrong for the lead roles in
"Dogma"!
CROW: I'd expect that kind of answer from *you*, Nelson!
TOM: Yeah, ya big robophobe!
>"The payment has been made, you now have 2,450 pieces. Would you like to do
>anything else?"
>
MIKE: Well, one day, I want the chance to direct.
>"No."
>
>"Thank you, have a nice day."
>
>"The machine dropped a miniature car into a compartment below. Dean picked
>up the car, turned it over, and pressed the button on the bottom.
>
TOM: [Dr. Evil] I shall call it - Mini-Miata!
>The car expanded into an red oval shape.
>
MIKE: It's turning into a box of Post Toasties.
>Dean opened the door and entered the car. Inside, he called "Autocar:
>Spaceport."
>
CROW: But the car didn't say anything, so he just kind of sat there,
feeling like a boob.
>The car immediately began driving down the interstate towards the Ambrosia
>Inter-Galactic Spaceport.
MIKE: [basso] It was the Spaceport of the Gods!
> He passed several shops, malls, banks, hotels,
>motels, and many other businesses until he reached the Spaceport on the
>edge of town.
>
TOM: Oh, it's one of those little small town spaceports.
MIKE: Yeah, all the flights have to go through Atlanta, Tattooine.
>He bought himself a seat on the next flight to Terrace, Saturn. On the
>flight, he purchased a bottle of Moon Sprit, which he had finished by the
>end of the flight and a packet of dehydrated chocolate flavored ice-cream.
CROW: Bleah!
MIKE: He's serious, Crow. Astronauts used to eat that stuff.
TOM: Yeah, and you know why?
MIKE: I'll regret this, but why?
TOM: Because in space, no one can hear ice cream! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!
CROW: You're one sick bot, Servo.
>He settled back, watched the in-flight movie, Benjamin's Love,
TOM: Kasidy Yates?
> and finished
>reading Virus: Myths and Facts.
>
CROW: Way to not give yourself away there, Dean!
>On Saturn,
ALL: Ring around the planet! Ring around the planet!
> he proceeded to purchase a house. When he reached his house, he
>cut on the holovision to the News and sat to watch it.
>
>"This is SUN Network News at 11 o'clock with Jackson Struthers and Sally
>Underwood reporting."
>
MIKE: [Sally Struthers] Won't you please give - for the children?
>"Today, our hit story is the peace making in the Allied Galaxy.
CROW: This story is number one on the Pop, R&B and Dance charts!
> The
>peacemakers have finally reached an agreement which will combine all the
>countries and planets into one giant nation.
TOM: Unfortunately, that nation is Canada.
MIKE: Y'know, when Mounties storm the satellite and haul your robotic butt
back to Ottawa for trial, don't say I didn't warn you.
> There are several viewpoints
>on this, let's go out to the streets with Greg Lacroix."
>
TOM: [Lacroix from "Forever Knight] Greetings, Nicolai.
>The platform switched to a hologram image of a reporter on the streets of
>Abernay, Jupiter and beside him was a old country looking man in a
>twentieth century get-up.
>
MIKE: It's the "Fred Ziffel" cult of the future!
>"Thank you, Jackson. Uh, sir, can you tell us what you think of the
>Inter-Galactic peace treaty."
>
>"I think it's a dadburn great idea.
TOM: [Boomhauer] Yeahatdadburnoldtreaty,ahtellyawhut,at'ssomethinelseman,
allathetfigthinandstuffcomeonupandbangbangbang,thensallgone,yeahboy,
ahtellyawhut,sumpthinawright,man.
> Less taxes fer the people, less
>confusion in government activities, no bother to change the money when you
>visit far off places. It's an excellent idea and it should be enforced
>every single place you visit."
>
MIKE: This must be that "New World Order" Bush kept talking so much about.
>"Thank you sir. And how about you, ma'am?"
>
>The camera moved to a black lady wearing a "Coonts Band" t-shirt and pants
>that resembled bell bottom pants but came down to three rings.
>
>"The peace treaty sucks.
CROW: [lady] Peace is, like, so totally bogus!
> No more excitement, unlike the last man, I think
>it makes the government more complicated."
>
TOM: Stupid old separation of powers!
>"Care to elaborate on that?"
>
>"The government changes. We need to know what our rights are,
MIKE: [Clint Eastwood] What about the rights of that little girl?!?
> what is
>against the law, and what powers the government has. If you'll excuse me, I
>have to go home and cook dinner for my kids."
>
CROW: [Reporter] No problem, we'll just tag along. We're not having baked
chicken again, are we?
>"Thank you, what's your opinion sir?"
>
>"On what?"
>
>"The Inter-Galactic peace treaty."
>
>"What the hell is that?"
>
MIKE: Hey kid, don't putcher lips on it!
>"It's an agreement with the entire galaxy to pull it together into one
>nation."
>
>"I don't give a shit about some damn thing with a name that's hard as hell
>to say."
>
TOM: [Dumb Guy] Like that there whaddayacallit, carido-vacuslar system. I'll
never need that! Take it away!
CROW: Howard Stern IV, ladies and gentlemen.
>"Good night sir."
>
>"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever."
>
>"There you go, a view from the public eye, back to you Jackson."
>
TOM: [Jackson] God, they're so stupid! I'm glad I'm a journalist, and
not one of those pea-brained morons like - I'm on?!? Crap!!!
>"Thank you, Greg. In other news tonight, there was another sighting of the
>famed 'Hunter' in Boulder, Venus. Earlier this week, Hunter was seen in the
>cave where construction had begun a year ago.
CROW: How much construction is necessary for a *cave*?
> He nearly killed Agent Z
>yesterday and eluded a hotel manager by jumping from the top of a building
>to the bank next door today.
MIKE: The Justice League of Hotel Managers is now on full alert.
> Also today, an old friend of his, Clark
>Grismond,
CROW: Formerly of Wallyworld...
> was found dead in the Boulder Museum twentieth century knife
>display. So far police have found two identities he has used, Douglas
>Eunate and Timothy Warner.
TOM: But they're shot to hell by us telling you about them!
> If you have any idea of the whereabouts of this
>man, please call 1-800-394-8045."
>
MIKE: But be sure to dial 10-10-10-10-10-3210-10-10-555-10 first.
>The camera switched to Sally Underwood.
>
TOM: By day, an ordinary camera, by night it becomes - SALLY UNDERWOOD!!!
>"Joining me tonight is the head police investigator, Marshall Ford."
MIKE: [announcer] Come on down to Marshall Ford for Price Buster Days!
Corner of U.S. 31 and the Beltline!
> She
>turned and the camera backed away to fit both Sally and Marshall in the
>screen. "Mr. Ford, can you tell us anything about what Hunter might be
>planning?"
>
CROW: [Ford] We think he plans to go into the woods, try to shoot some deer
or elk, then get stinking drunk, pass out, and come home smelling
like moose urine.
>"Uh, well, Mrs. Underwood, we do know that Hunter is planning to do
>something dealing with viruses.
TOM: Really?!? I must have missed that part.
MIKE: There were subtle clues, but you had to read carefully.
> I will be the first to admit this, the
>rumors of the Henroid Syndrome in the construction zone are correct. Hunter
>will find a use for this virus. So far, there is no need for panic.
CROW: [Ford] Plus, we think he may have a nuclear weapon and several
canisters of nerve toxin, plus several platoons of trained, rabid
bats under his command. At this time, we again stress, there is
no need to panic!
TOM: "Reassuring the Public"? Hah! That's for sissies!
> If he
>has this virus, he should be handling it with care or else he will die of
>it.
MIKE: [Ford] Of course, if he *is* careful, everybody else dies. So
please, no panicking.
> That's all I'm permitted to say.
CROW: [Ford] At least without my nurse present.
> Good night."
>
TOM: [Ford] And remember, NO PANICKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>"Thank you Mr. Ford." Sally turned and motioned for Jackson to start.
>
>"Today, a man by the name of Harley Turner escaped from prison today.
TOM: So this happened today?
MIKE: No, I think it must've happened today.
CROW: In any event, today was when he did it.
ALL: [a la Neil Diamond] TODAY!!!
>Turner has been involved in a series of terrorist attacks on several
>buildings. The police are issuing a warning saying that this man is
>dangerous and should be considered armed and dangerous.
MIKE: Dangerous today.
> Going on to a
>different sort of topic, the missing . . ." Dean shut off the holovision
>and went to bed.
>
CROW: We're seeing a lot of scenes of this guy sleeping.
MIKE: Maybe he has narcolepsy.
>The next morning, he woke up and proceeded to pull out another black box
>and attached it to the computer.
TOM: Hunter - terrorist, virusologist, and sometime FAA investigator.
> The box grew into a lab and he exposed the
>virus to the air inside it. He then grabbed the box and pulled it out of
>the lab. The lab then turned into a giant black egg.
>
CROW: Which he then sold to a giant for a handful of magic fairy beans.
>He then left his house and drove to the Spaceport. At the Spaceport, he
>caught a rocket to Mars. The in-flight movie shown was Road to Nowhere.
MIKE: Starring Bob Nihilism and Bing Oblivion.
>Halfway through the movie, the film was suddenly ripped off the projector.
CROW: We can only hope it was a Pauly Shore film.
TOM: Oh please, oh please, oh please...
>A slow murmur began to rumble through first class.
>
TOM: It must have been a hell of a murmur.
>"Calm down ladies and gentlemen," announced over the intercom. "just some
>minor technical difficulties."
>
CROW: [Intercom] And whatever you do, don't panic, or that weird cop will
come back and lecture us again!
>Timothy nodded off and began to dream. In his dream, he was the first man
>on the moon way before Neil Armstrong ever visited it.
MIKE: So he began cackling wildly and dumping tons of viruses in the
Sea of Tranquillity.
> The only thing he
>had for a rocket was late-eighteen hundreds three car passenger train. The
>train was filled to the bone with people wanting to visit the moon.
TOM: Trains got bones?
> The
>only problem was that there was a robber on board. He knew there was one,
>he just didn't know who it was. His mind began to think.
MIKE: Since his lungs and liver were incapable of it.
> What would a
>robber planning to try and take over a passenger train look like. He
>searched the first passenger car but found nobody who looked suspicious. He
>searched the second passenger car and still found nobody.
CROW: Henry Fonda?
> Then, he had an
>idea. He ran into the engine room and whispered something into the
>engineers ear.
TOM: [whispering] Your fly is open!
> Dean ran behind the door while the engineer picked up an
>intercom microphone.
>
>"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a bandit on board. Don't panic."
>
MIKE: Apparently, his dream's being run by that same policeman.
TOM: We're all going to die a horrible screaming death, so don't even
*think* about having a panic!
>Just then the door burst open and a man ran in with a gun and aimed it at
>the engineer.
CROW: Take this train to Havana!!!
> Dean silently ran up behind the man and slammed him on the
>shoulder with all his might. The man fell unconscious. Dean turned him over
>and recognized the face of Harley Turner.
TOM: Okay, waitasec, who's Harley Turner?
CROW: He's, um - lemme consult the master database. [much rustling of paper]
Ah! He's a terrorist mentioned in one sentence of the newscast! Well,
that or he's a journeyman southpaw currently pitching for the Twins.
> He woke up in a cold sweat and
>rushed toward the head of the rocket.
>
TOM: He should've gone before he left Venus.
>"Captain, we have a terrorist on board."
>
>"Who?"
>
>"I think it's Harley Turner."
>
>"How can you be so sure?"
>
CROW: [Hunter] I dreamt about him on my moon train, you fool!
>"I just know so. Stop the rocket."
>
MIKE: Pull over to the side of space.
>"I can't stop the rocket. I have an idea. Wait behind the doorway."
>
CROW: [captain] We'll dump a bucket of water on him! It'll be so cool!!
>Dean backed against the wall, while the captain made the announcement over
>the intercom that he made in his dream. The door opened up and a man
>entered the room.
MIKE: Hey, I ordered a woman!
> As the man pulled out a laser and took aim at the pilot,
>Dean balled up his fists and slammed them onto the back of the man's neck.
>The man fell onto the ground unconscious. The captain set the rocket on
>automatic and rolled the man over.
TOM: He *always* steals the covers!
> The body on the ground was not Harley
>Turner, but Jackson Crow,
CROW: GAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!
> who had escaped from an asylum four years ago
>after he had done several insane acts of violence.
TOM: I take back what I said about your descendants, Mike. They may be
insufferable ape-loving goons, but at least they top Crow's
MIKE: Thanks - I think.
CROW: [sobbing] Oh, my family honor!
> He had planned and
>carried out several robberies, murders, VR criminal activities, and many
>other things. Then, the door swung open and Harley Turner walked into the
>room carrying two lasers in each hand.
>
>"This rocket is now mine."
TOM: [Daffy Duck] Mine, y'unnerthtand! Mine mine mine! Down down down!
Go go go! Mine all mine! There'th only enough for ME!!!
> Harley said as three other people entered the
>room. The four terrorists looked at each other and their chins dropped.
>
ALL: D'OH!!!!
>"Who the hell are you?" They said in unison as their lasers began to raise.
>
>"I'm taking this ship hostage." One said.
>
>"No, I am." Another yelled. "None of you are."
MIKE: It's the Wacky Fun Terrorists!
TOM: Looks like the spaceline's "Hijackers Ride Free Thursdays" program
still has a few flaws in it.
> Harley said and shot one of
>the terrorists. The man's body began shrinking and disappeared.
CROW: Another Jenny Craig success story!
>"What kind of gun you using?" Terrorist number three said.
>
MIKE: [#3] NO! NO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- Hey, are those Bugle Boy jeans?
>"My own design." Harley pointed the two lasers at the next two terrorists
>and shot them. He pulled them over onto Dean and the pilot and fired. With
>less than a second remaining, Dean grabbed the pilot and ran against the
>wall,
TOM: Knocking them both out, and ending everything. The end!
CROW: Tom...
TOM: I know, I know, but it's better than living without hope!
> just barely dodging the red streak which hit the window. The bullet
>hit the window but only mad a hole the size of a silver dollar. The vacuum
>began sucking the air from the rocket,
ALL: ["Spaceballs"] Suck! Suck! Suck! Suck!
> pulling the door shut. Dean move
>struggled toward the door and tried to pull it open.
>
MIKE: [muffled] Hey! There's someone in here! Wait your turn, pal!
>"It's locked. When the seal is broken anywhere around the cockpit, the door
>is closed automatically and locked to protect the passengers." The pilot
>yelled over the vacuum.
>
CROW: It's a giant Tupperware ship, and they're being burped to death!
>Harley's grip against the wall loosened and his body was spun toward the
>window. The special glass did not break but Harley died the instant his
>body hit the window.
TOM: Just like that.
> The rocket began nearing Mars. Harley's body ripped a
>small hole in the back and blood began spewing from the hole.
>
CROW: [Hunter] Boy, this is even better than when the bird bought it!
>"361 Galaxy Gold, this is Mars Control. Do you read, over?"
>
TOM: [pilot] I browsed through the latest Tom Clancy novel, and I enjoy a
good Zane Gray from time to time. Over.
>The pilot rushed to the speaker and picked it up. "Mars Control, this is
>361 Galaxy Gold. We had a problem with a terrorist attack on here but we're
>okay now.
ALL: So NO PANICKING!!!!
> There's a small hole in the windshield but one of the terrorists
>slipped up and is now blocking the hole. I do know two of the terrorists
>names. We have Harley Turner and Jackson Crow.
TOM: Whaddaya know - it really *is* one "O". Heh heh heh.
CROW: Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!
> The other two Are no longer
>here. Harley used his own laser and made the two shrink into nothing.
MIKE: 'Cuz, y'know, lasers shrink things and stuff.
CROW: This must be the new Preparation H lasers.
TOM: Hey, it ties back in with my first riff! Neat!
>Thanks to this man, uh, what's your name?"
>
>"Uh, Ben Hyde."
>
TOM: ["Hyde"] And it's not a phony name! Really! I'm not a bioterrorist!
>"Thanks to Mr. Hyde, I am still alive right now."
>
MIKE: [Captain] He really beat the *crap* out of Dr. Jeckyll!
>"Are you ready to land?"
>
>"Sure am."
>
CROW: [Pilot] There's probably not any more bad guys around, so cancel
all the security precautions and stuff.
>"Then prepare to land."
>
>"Signing off."
>
>"10-4"
>
MIKE: You're wall-to-wall and tree-top tall good buddy! Any smokies out
there, c'mon back?
TOM: Let's go. I can use a break.
MIKE: Or in this case, a "breaker, breaker", huh? Ha?
TOM: That's pretty pathetic, Nelson.
MIKE: Yeah, I know, sorry - I got that "Convoy" song stuck in my head.
[All leave]
ADS: Obey Your Thirst!
Morose Cartoons nod, push button!
Bob Dole is Sci-Fi! - Bob Dole
(continued)
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bi...@Traveller.COM http:\\www.hsv.tis.net\~bill
He that is of a merry heart hath
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