[MiSTed] "Double Vision" (1/4)

[Mike Barklage]

MiSTed: "Double Vision"
by Chirpy the Mutant Hellbeast (Mike Barklage)
bark...@ucsu.Colorado.edu

In the not-too-distant future...

[Scene opens on the SOL interior. Crow is in front of his Pentium computer,
looking through some kind of owner's manual. Tom Servo scoots in from the
right and looks curiously at Crow.]

TOM: Hey, Crow, watcha doing?
CROW: Huh? Oh, I'm just installing my new Sierra computer game. It's
called Super-Duper Quest XXVII.
TOM: <losing interest> Really...
CROW: Yup! I got the CD-ROM version of it, with Super VGA graphics and
super-cool sound, and it's all talkie, too! They hired professional
voice actors and everything! And it only cost me $99.95!
TOM: Um... wow. Well, I guess I'd better be going....
CROW: <not listening> Of course, the system requirements *are* a little
rough. I had to reconfigure my RAM and the
autoexec.bat, and that took a few hours. But that's
the price you pay for top-of-the-line!

[The computer beeps.]

CROW: Ah! Looks like it successfully installed! Let's fire this sucker up.

[Crow types something on the keyboard. Super-cool music is heard.]

COMPUTER: Welcome to Super-Duper Quest XXVII!
CROW: Wow, nifty!
COMPUTER: You are standing outside a locked door. You see a key lying
on the ground.
CROW: Hmmm... I think I better pick up the key.

[Crow moves the mouse around and clicks randomly.]

CROW: Okay... got the key... now point the key at the door... Ah!

[Super-cool music is heard from the computer again.]

COMPUTER: You have unlocked the door! Congratulations, you have beaten
Super-Duper Quest XXVII!

[The computer stops playing music and is silent. Crow just stands there
in total shock. Mike walks in from the left.]

MIKE: Hey, guys. [He notices the game box.] Hey! Super-Duper Quest XXVII!
I heard this game was supposed to be the best Quest yet!
CROW: <going ballistic> WHAT?! THAT WAS IT?! I PAID A HUNDRED BUCKS TO
UNLOCK A DOOR??!

[Crow throws a hissy-fit, yelling unintelligible things mainly having to
do with batch files, sound cards, and certain game designers' heads on
platters. Meanwhile, the Mads' light starts flashing.]

MIKE: Whoops! Ken and Roberta Williams are calling! <hits button>

[Deep 13. Dr. Forrester is standing close to the camera, and Frank is
at a computer.]

DR.F: Having trouble with your computer games, Roger Wilco? So sorry.
Down here in Deep 13, we have no time for such piddling things as
games. We need all our time to do our fiendish experiments, and --
FRANK: <using computer> Oh, darn it! Found another mine! Oh well,
it's your turn at Minesweeper, Clay!
DR.F: Er... thanks, Frank. Anyway, your fanfic this week is a little
bit of drek from alt.tv.x-files.creative. Well, make that a *lot*
of drek. Have fun, Uri Geller, and remember -- the truth is out
there!

[SOL. Buzzers and lights are going off.]

ALL: AAAHHHH!!! WE'VE GOT X-FILES SIGN!!

6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... *

[Mike and the bots enter the theater]

TOM: 'X-Files', huh? Maybe this one won't be so bad.

> From: imast...@aol.com (ImAStinker)

TOM: Or, then again...

> Date: 11 Oct 1994 09:02:01 -0400
> Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
> Subject: New Story: Double Vision #1
>
> DOUBLE VISION

CROW: <singing> A double vision's waitin' for you...! <whistles>

> by: Cheryl Cohen
> (alias: The Stinker)

MIKE: Well, at least she admits it.

>
> **************************************************************
>
> FORWARD
>
> *****************************************
> Here I go again...Yes, as before...This story is baded

CROW: She's right, it IS pretty bad, but isn't the correct term 'was bad'?
TOM: I think she means 'based'.

> on the characters
> and situations created by Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. And
> no, I didn't ask first,

MIKE: Shame on you!

> even though no infringment of copyrights etc. are
> intended.

CROW: Although I'm sure if they found out, they'd be plenty pissed!

> **************************************************************************
> *****
>
> Fox Mulder pulled the car into the parking garage with a sharp right turn

TOM: The Violent Years.

> and came to a screeching halt in front of the cement barrier. He slid
> from his seat, walked quickly to the other side of the car and cheerfully
> opened the passenger door.

MIKE: Driving like a maniac, running over pedestrians -- it's the start
of a great day!

>
> Scully slowly opened her tightly closed eyes and carefully removed her
> white-knuckled hand from the dashboard. "My God Mulder,

CROW: Thy must praise the great god Mulder!

> This isn't the
> Indy 500...what's the hurry?"

MIKE: I wanted to get through this fanfic as quickly as possible.

>
> "No hurry," he commented a little dejectedly. "Didn't ya ever just want
> to open er' up to see what she'd do?"

TOM: Open WHO up? Scully?
MIKE: I think he means the car.

>
> "Mulder," she replied with long suffering patience, "This is a
> Taurus....Not a Farari.

CROW: Hell, it's not a Ferrari, either.
MIKE: Okay, guys, lay off the grammar and spelling flames for a while.
CROW: Aw, but they're so EASY!

> Your lucky that Highway Patrolman didn't pull you
> over....I think you peeled the decal off his door when you flew by."

TOM: Oh, that's okay. He can just put some water on the back of the decal
and stick it right back on there.

>
> "Bet the rest of his coffee probably landed in his lap too," he chuckled
> softly.

MIKE: Causing personal injury is fun!

> "Ah, come on, Dana, It's Spring...lighten up a little. It's a
> gorgeous day! Sun's shining, birds singing, hell, even the cherry trees
> are in bloom

CROW: Sun shining, okay. Birds singing, okay. But Hell?
MIKE: I guess Mulder always WAS a little weird.

> ...and you look absolutely beautiful," he quipped in a light
> banter as he favored her with a wide grin.

TOM: Saaaayyy...

> " So what if we have to park
> two blocks away because a lot of Bureau big wigs

CROW: Dolly Parton?

> decided to pick today to
> go on a tour. I'm in the mood to walk, anyway."
>
> "My, aren't you positively perky today," she observed as one eyebrow
> climbed into her bangs.

MIKE: Quick! Catch that eyebrow before it runs away!

>
> "And why shouldn't I be? Got my files, got the best night of sleep that
> I've had in years, and...." he whispered in a conspiring manor

TOM: Stately Wayne Manor...
MIKE: <warningly> Tom...
TOM: Okay, okay.

> as he
> leaned in close to her ear, "I got you.

TOM: <singing> ...under my skin...

> Dana do you realize that I didn't
> wake up once all night? I slept like a baby."

CROW: You mean you woke up crying every two hours and crapped in your
shorts?

>
> "Yes, I know....I was there. Remember?" she asked smugly.

MIKE: Whoa!
TOM: This is new!

>
> "You were?" he asked teasingly with feigned ignorance...."and I thought it
> was just one of those suggestive erotic dreams...hmm....."

CROW: Buck-a-chick-a-wow!
TOM: <like Homer Simpson> Mmmmm... suggestive erotic dreams...

>
> She reached over and knuckle-punched him in the arm.

MIKE: Oh, we DO have fun, don't we, ya knuckleknob?

>
> "Ow! Subject...Dana Scully is suffering from acute hypo-humorous syndrome
> with tendencies toward violent aggression," he stated in most serious
> psychologist's voice while rubbing his bruised arm.

TOM: Recommend immediate, repeated shock treatment.

> "World famous
> psychologist, Fox Mulder, suggests that she take at least two happy pills
> twice daily until the condition improves."

MIKE: Happy pills?
CROW: <Bob Dylan voice> Everybody must get stoned!

>
> "Mulder, it's against the law to prescribe without a license."

MIKE: Tell that to my distributor!

>
> "Pick, pick, pick....

TOM: Don't do that, honey, or that scab will never heal.

> For your information I *am* licensed and can
> prescribe happy pills all day long if I feel like it."

ALL: Woo-hoo! Aw right, dude! Pass the bong!

>
> "Fine, in that case...I want some of whatever you're on...."

CROW: What would you like first? Take your pick!

>
> It's amazing, she thought, what a little sleep and relaxation could do for
> a person. Truth was they had lain wake for several hours the previous
> night...just talking about everything from Einstein to U2.

MIKE: I dunno. Einstein, maybe. But I just can't see Mulder as a U2 fan.
TOM: <as Mulder> I swear, Bono is all part of a government UFO coverup!

> She enjoyed it
> when they could talk, for each time she would learn just a little bit more
> about what made Fox Mulder tick.

CROW: Yeah, like a time bomb.

> His range of knowledge on various
> subjects was impressive and although she had no idea what his IQ was, for
> it was conspicuously absent from all of his records, she had no doubt that
> it was formidable.

MIKE: Are you intimidated by my enormous intellect? Hmmm??

> She had inquired about it once....and only once, since
> the question sparked an in depth lecture as to why he thought IQ tests
> were arbitrary and self-defeating in nature by making "intelligent people"
> apathetic because it convinced them that they knew everything and by
> making those with lesser ability think that they could accomplish less
> than they could.

TOM: Whoa! Now THERE was a complex sentence!
CROW: <as Scully> This only reconfirmed my belief that Mulder is a total
loonie.

> He then had insisted emphatically that his scores would
> not be waved around like a "fucking banner"

CROW: Oh, Mike...
TOM: Does this mean we can use that word now?
MIKE: No.
CROW: But Mulder used it!
MIKE: I said no, now just leave it, okay?

> by higher ups to impress
> Bureau VIPS.....a statement that in itself proved to her that whatever his
> IQ, it must have been a lot "better than average."

CROW: If you know what I mean, heh heh.

> They were right in
> the middle of a discussion of the "temporal time displacement theory,"

MIKE: Are you sure this isn't a Star Trek fanfic?
ALL: NOOOOO!!!

> when he'd unceremoniously dozed off, leaving her alone in her thoughts.

TOM: <as Scully> Some date *that* turned out to be!

> Yes, he'd slept soundly and peacefully and the results were phenomenal.
> The lightness of manner and the spring in his step were undeniable as she
> picked up her pace to fall in step beside him.

CROW: It was almost as if they had actually --
MIKE: Crow, no...

> Reaching out, she touched
> his arm and was rewarded with a wide, full, smile that radiated an
> uninhibited beam of warmth and affection.

TOM: Owie! Your smile is hurting my eyes! Turn it off!

> She was so unaccustomed to
> witnessing such a rare and open display of unguarded emotion from him that
> experiencing it now felt almost....embarrassing,

MIKE: No kidding. This whole "playful banter" bit is REALLY embarrasing.

> yet this was the kind of
> embarrassment that she wouldn't mind learning to live with.

CROW: Speak for yourself!

>
> Dana returned his smile with a moderate one of her own for his mood was
> contagious.

TOM: Oh, no! Now she's caught it, too!

> He was full of spit and fire

MIKE: I was full of spit and fire once. I had to eat through an IV.

> today that almost bordered on
> his being a pain in the ass and nothing short of a major disaster was
> gonna spoil it for him.

CROW: But then again, knowing Mulder, a major disaster would probably cheer
him up even *more*.

>
> "Oh, I don't know," he said breathing deeply.

TOM: <deep voice> Oh, baby...

> "Maybe it's something in
> the air.

MIKE: Smog?

> It just seems like a great day for tracking down wayward
> aliens, and capturing errant, scum-sucking sewer mutants,

TOM: Vinnie the CC exec?
MIKE: Aaron Spelling?
CROW: Rush Limbaugh?

> you know,
> 'Spooky Patrol' stuff," he laughed with mirthful eyes.

TOM: Spooky Patrol -- in color!
CROW: Y'know, that's what they were originally call the show, but they
decided on 'X-Files' instead.

> "Hey Dana, don't
> dawdle. We've got places to go and people to annoy,"

MIKE: Too late. Three, right here.
TOM: <as Mulder> I have an appointment to see a 'John Winston' this
afternoon. Any idea who he is?

> he joked happily as
> they stopped at a street corner and waited for the light to change.

CROW: No one will be seating during the breathtaking street corner scene.

>
> >From the corner of his eye he saw her. A young woman was running through
> the crowd,

TOM: Uta Pippig?

> briefly looking over her shoulder as she moved into the street
> against the light. She didn't see the oncoming car...

MIKE: Mentos: The Final Battle
TOM: Fresh goes bett--AAAIIIIGGGHH!!!

> but he did and
> yelled frantically to her as he dashed into the street to try and pull her
> from danger.

CROW: <Mighty Mouse> Here I come to save the daaaaaayy!

> He had reacted instinctively before Scully had a chance to
> restrain him and all she could do was scream, "Mulder, NO!!"

TOM: Bad boy! Look what you did!

> and watch
> helplessly from the curb as the speeding vehicle impacted with the two
> fragile human forms.

MIKE: So what do you think. Would that be two 'thud's or just the one.
CROW: I dunno. I think the impact would be simultaneous, so you'd just
hear one thud.
TOM: I'm gonna have to go with two thuds, myself.

>
>
> From: imast...@aol.com (ImAStinker)

MIKE: Oh no, it's the Stinky Guy... er, Girl...

> Date: 11 Oct 1994 09:04:04 -0400
> Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
> Subject: Double Vision #2

TOM: Dead by Dawn!

>
> He heard a thud

CROW: A-ha! See, I was right!

> and felt himself lifted into the air. This was really
> weird because it had occurred to him that he'd never felt himself fall.
> How long could a person remain airborne?

MIKE: Usually until they hit the ground.

> He had to land sometime, he
> thought abstractly,

TOM: That Mulder is really good at abstract thought.
CROW: Yeah, but I bet he can't do math.

> and braced himself for the inevitable meeting of flesh
> and pavement. He waited....but still no contact with anything that he
> could judge as solid.

MIKE: Then it came to him: he was floating in Jell-O!

> A blinding white light blazed hotly in his brain,

TOM: Uh-oh! Acid flashback!

> making it difficult to see around the spots that formed before his eyes
> and he felt strangely disoriented and mildly dizzy.

CROW: Oh, it's just a migraine. Lie down, and you'll fell better.

>
> A lone woman walked toward him, at least he thought she was walking for
> the ground....if there was a ground, was covered with mist.

MIKE: We're getting into Ridley Scott's territory here...

>
> "Dana?" he asked in confusion. No...

ALL: Yes?

> ...

ALL: YES?!

> no, this wasn't Dana.

TOM: Has anyone else noticed all the ellipses in this fanfic?
CROW: Ellipses?
TOM: Yeah, you know: "..."
MIKE: How did you pronounce that?
TOM: I ain't telling.

> This woman
> was tall and serene looking with long, brown hair. He didn't think he
> knew her, although she seemed vaguely familiar, yet she apparently knew
> him, for she called him by name.

TOM: The Stinky Girl -- master of the prepostition.

>
> "How did you know my name?" he finally got up enough nerve to ask.
>
> "I'm psychic," she told him with a shadowy smile.

MIKE: I'm currently charging you $2.99 a minute.

>
> "Oh, *that* explains everything," he replied sardonically.
>
> "You are *not* a very careful man," she admonished him, reaching out to
> take his hand.

CROW: Let's *emphasize* our *speech* a little bit *more*.

>
> Seems he'd heard this lecture before.....

TOM: Is this gonna be on the exam?

>
> "You don't happen to know someone named Dana Scully, do you?" Jesus
> Christ, he thought with some trepidation,

MIKE: So Mulder is God, and Scully is Jesus?
TOM: Yep, looks that way.

> her lectures even followed him
> into this place, where ever this place was.
>
> "I only know her through you," she replied with tinkling laughter,

CROW: Hey, when ya gotta go, ya just gotta go!

> " and
> she's right ....about a lot of things, it seems."
>
> "Who are you?" he inquired suspiciously.
>
> "You don't know me....I'm a total stranger,

TOM: ...in paradise.

> " she said, "which makes this
> all the more remarkable."
>
> "What?" he asked. "What's remarkable...I don't understand."

MIKE: Where's Mulder's "better than average" IQ now, huh?

>
> "The fact that you don't see anything remarkable in what you did....that
> you could be unselfish enough to try and save someone that you don't even
> know when those who *should* be that way would not have even offered."

CROW: Another brilliant sentence, brought to you by the Stinky Girl.

>
> "Wait a minute," he gasped in dawning realization....

TOM: I'm gonna throw a bone and it'll turn into a spaceship!

> "you're the woman in
> the crowd...someone was chasing you--

MIKE: Really? The author never mentioned anything about that.

> you were frightened and ran into the
> street. I...

ALL: What?

> ...

ALL: WHAT??

> ..am I dead?" he questioned her as fear and panic clamped
> down on his heart.

CROW: I see what you mean about the ellipses, Servo.

>
> "Goodness no," she answered in a voice tinged with amusement, "I am."
>
> "Huh? Oh, now *that's* a real comfort," he commented dryly, as he slapped
> his forehead with the palm of his hand.

ALL: D'OH!

> Go figure.

MIKE: <goofy voice> Well, what'ya know! Better luck next time, Kooky!

> The first time that
> he'd actually gotten some sleep and really felt good, he ended up in La La
> Land,

TOM: Hollywood?

> talking to a dead person.

CROW: It could've been worse. He could have ended up talking to Kurt
Cobain.

> Dana will *never* believe *this* one.

MIKE: She *hates* me.

>
> "Hey, if I'm not dead, how is it that I can talk to you, if you are?"

TOM: Sorry, guys, the syntax of that just went way over my head.

>
> "Because you believe," she smiled.

CROW: Ghost! Patrick Swayze...

>
> "Right...I believe in bigfoot too but that doesn't necessarily mean that
> I'm gonna find a Yeti in my living room...now does it?

MIKE: <whispering> Oh please oh please oh please...

> Where am I?"

TOM: La-La Land, remember?

>
> "Somewhere between here and there." She motioned playfully with her hand
> from one side to the other.

CROW: She still gives better directions than your average gas station
attendant.

>
> "In other words," he mumbled ruefully, "Ya can't get there from here.

ALL: Wah wah waaahhhh...

> Damn it, I'm lost again and I wasn't even looking at a map....are you
> *sure* you don't know Dana Scully?"

MIKE: Heck, when ya got enough periods, you don't NEED good sentence
construction!

>
> The woman laughed out loud, turned to walk away and as he attempted to
> follow, she raised her hand to his chest to stop him.
>
> "You can not come with me, Fox,

TOM: You're just too stupid.

> it is not yet your time. There's too much
> left for you to do and someone impatiently awaits your return.

CROW: The IRS. How long has it been since you paid taxes, anyway? The
Carter administration?

> You must
> go back," she informed him as she walked away toward the light.
>
> "Wait....don't leave me here alone," he pleaded.

MIKE: I'm a-scared!

>
> "You won't be alone.... I will be with you," she whispered cryptically.

CROW: <Crypt Keeper> Welcome to the Crypt! I have a BONE to pick with
you! <laughs shrilly>
MIKE: <puts a hand on Crow>
CROW: Okay, I'll stop.

> "Thank you for trying to help me."
>
> "How do I get back," he puzzled out loud.
>
> "You could try tapping your heels together three times and repeating
> 'there's no place like home,'" she snickered lightly.

TOM: Packed with peanuts, Snickers really satisfies.

>
> "Wonderful," he sighed. "Millions of dead people floating around and I
> have to get one who specializes in snide remarks.....

MIKE: Groucho Marx?

> does this mean when I
> wake up, everything will be in black and white?"

CROW: Wow, there was actually a *clever* remark in this fanfic?
TOM: Amazing!

> He turned to look at her
> but she was gone. What now?

MIKE: How about some more stupid banter?

>
> A now familiar voice softly echoed through his mind and began to fade from
> memory. "Just believe,"

TOM: Ghost!

> it said over and over again..."just believe."

TOM: Ghost! Ghost! Ghost! Ghost--
MIKE: ENOUGH!

>
> God, he was cold.

CROW: <God voice> Well, what the heck do you want *me* to do about it?

> Sterile antiseptic odors attacked his sense of smell as
> he hung on at the edge of consciousness for what seemed like hours before
> his mind slowly began to clear. He awoke to find himself in a hospital
> bed, and sporting one of those damn gowns that never quite seemed to cover
> what they needed to.

TOM: Just recovering from a near-death experince, and he's already
complaining about something.

> They all must be designed by short people, he
> figured, and anyone over 5'10" was SOL.

CROW: Satellite of Love?
MIKE: Well, not quite...

>
> Opening his eyes, he turned his head slightly to see Scully discussing him
> with another doctor.

TOM: <as Scully> ...and then there was the FBI Christmas party where he
got piss-drunk and made a REALLY sloppy pass at me...

>
> "If there's nothing wrong with him, why has he been comatose for the last
> five hours?" she growled in frustration..

CROW: Grrrrrrr...

>
> "I can't answer that, Dr. Scully.

MIKE: I'm just a janitor! Leave me alone!

> All I can tell you is that besides a
> broken arm, some minor cuts and bruises and a mild concussion, all other
> tests are negative, including the CAT scan and the EEG."

TOM: The results are definite -- he is NOT a cat or an egg.
MIKE: Tom, that's EEG, not EGG.
TOM: Well, he's not that, either.

>
> "Then why doesn't he wake up?"
>
> "I don't know," he said, feeling somewhat inadequate for not having any of
> the answers that she wanted to hear.

CROW: Please, I'm feeling very inadequate right now. Just leave me alone!

>
> Poor guy, Mulder reasoned.....

MIKE: What, did the author just drift off at the keyboard there?

> He'd been on the wrong end of Dana's
> frustration before and knew what the young doctor would go through if he
> didn't speak up and let her know that he was ok.
>
> "Dana?" he rasped.

TOM: <rasping> Use the Force, Dana...

> His voice sounded distant and slurred in his ears and
> he was uncertain as to whether or not he'd actually spoken when she turned
> suddenly and gazed directly into his blurry eyes.

CROW: <as Scully> You've been drinking again, haven't you.

>
> "Thank God," she replied in relief, as she propped him up in a modified
> sitting position

MIKE: <as Doctor> No wait! Don't!
ALL: <make spine-crackling noises>

> and impulsively brushed the hair from his eyes again.
> Satisfied that he would be all right,

TOM: You just woke from a coma, but you'll be all right.

> she raised her voice. "What in the
> *hell* did you think you were doing? You picked one hell of a time to
> play hero." Her tone hovered somewhere between anger and concern. She
> let her hands drop limply to her side in defeat,

CROW: Boy, she gives up easily.

> then raised one and
> placed it tenderly on top of his head, ruffling the silky strands of his
> hair lightly with her fingers.

MIKE: What's with the obsession with Mulder's hair? That's two times in
the same paragraph.

> "I'm sorry," she murmured quietly. "I
> know that you could no more stand by and watch somebody get run down any
> more than I could refuse medical attention to an injured man...

TOM: Actually *saving* him is a different story, but still...

> It's just
> that it's very frightening to see someone that you care about being
> slammed by 2,000 lbs. of steel and hurled 15 feet through the air and into
> a light pole.

CROW: Wow! All that, and he only has a broken arm and a minor concussion?
MIKE: Your star is always more resilient than your minor characters.

> Call me crazy, but that makes for a few anxious moments."

TOM: Well, let's get out of here, guys.

[Mike picks up Tom and they all leave]

*... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...

[Mike, Crow, and Tom are all standing around the SOL, hangin' out.]

TOM: Say, Mike...
MIKE: Yes, my stout little robot pal?
TOM: All this talk about X-Files and stuff has made me curious. Do you
think aliens actually exist?
MIKE: Well, that's a good question, Tom. The existance of aliens has never
really been proven one way or the other. My take on it is --
CROW: Hey! Guys! There's a ship coming into range!
MIKE: What?! Cambot, give me Rocket Number 9!

[Exterior of SOL. There is a cheesy-looking flying saucer flying around
obviously held up by a string. Very "Plan 9"-esque.]

[Interior of SOL]

TOM: There's something coming in on the Hexfield!

[The Hexfield Viewscreen opens to reveal four aliens sitting around a table.
The aliens have green skin and 'antennae' that look strangely like
teeny-boppers. They are all intent on a vast amount of cards that are
strewn out on the table.]

TOM: Oh, wow! Actual real-life aliens!
CROW: Think of something really cool to say, Mike!
MIKE: [clears throat] Greetings, from the planet Earth!

[The aliens don't acknowledge Mike's geeting at all]

MIKE: Uh... We would like to take this opportunity to promote peace between
our two worlds.

[Still no response. Finally, one of the aliens looks up from the table.]

ZARCONIAN: Who are you?
MIKE: I'm Mike, and these are my robot buds, Crow and Tom Servo.

[There is a long pause]

ZARCONIAN: Do you play the cards?
MIKE: What?
ZARCONIAN: You know, "Magic: The Gathering".
MIKE: Uh... no.
ZARCONIAN: Do you have any cards to trade?
MIKE: No.
ZARCONIAN: Oh.

[The Zarconian turns his attention back to the game. He fiddles with the
cards in front of him.]

ZARCONIAN: <to other aliens> I gain one mana.

[The Hexfield Viewscreen closes. Mike and the bots turn back to Cambot.]

MIKE: Well.
CROW: Yep.
TOM: Pretty much.
MIKE: Somehow I was expecting something... better, ya know?
CROW: I had hoped our first contact with extraterrestrial life would be
*exciting* or something.
TOM: Well, live and learn, huh, guys?

[Suddenly, the Movie Sign lights and buzzers go off.]

ALL: WE GOT FANFIC SIGN!