MSTed: Sonic the Hedgehog--"Altered Destiny" [ 1 / 4 ]
Joseph Nebus
This is, if my server lets it through, a fairly big Mystery Science
Theater 3000 treatment of a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic, "Altered Destiny,"
written by Keith Aksland, a friend of mine who asked me to look over his
story and add lots of cheap jokes and goofy shots at Sonic's expense.
If you take Sonic the Hedgehog very seriously, you should probably skip
my posts. If you don't, please, read on and, hopefully, enjoy. Thank you
very much. Turn off your computer (where applicable).
[ Opening theme ]
[ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ]
[ INT SOL: JOEL, CROW, TOM, and GYPSY are eating ice cream cones.
GYPSY's is held in a laboratory beaker stand. ]
TOM: Now, cookies and cream, I grant as a worthwhile innovation and,
in fact, a positive addition to the ice cream structure.
CROW: But...
TOM: But modern ice creams have developed such an overdone nature
that they become pretentious.
CROW: Pretentious?
TOM: Yes, overdone and far too ornate for any normal palate.
JOEL: [ Looking at camera ] Oh, hold on, guys. Hi, everybody, and
welcome to the Satellite of Love. You've caught us in the middle
of our ice cream social.
GYPSY: And Tom is lecturing.
TOM: And for good reason, Gypsy. Who needs to eat a
chocolate-vanilla ripple mixture with chocolate fudge segments
with M&M candies strewed throughout?
CROW: Ooh, I'd like that.
GYPSY: Me too.
TOM: No, it's overdone. Far too many flavors and textures in each
bite--
CROW: You don't bite ice cream.
TOM: Fine, Crow, every spoon of ice cream.
GYPSY: We're not using spoons.
JOEL: Well, you kind of bite it.
CROW: I could see calling it a bite.
JOEL: Maybe a lick is the right word?
TOM: Would you just listen?
JOEL: Sorry. Go ahead, Tom.
TOM: Anyway. Too many competing tastes in each mouthful is
fundamentally wrong for ice cream. Consider: Do you really want
butter pecan with peanut butter cups and coffee swirls and
almond bits inside?
JOEL: Sure.
CROW: I do.
GYPSY: Yeah.
TOM: No! No. Ice cream flavor development should have halted with
the achievement of "Rocky Road," a marvelous yet unpretentious
ice cream that--
[ COMMERCIAL SIGN flashes ]
TOM: --proves its worth with every fine--
JOEL: We'll be right back...and thanks for your support.
[ BREAK ]
[ INT SOL. JOEL is digging fresh scoops of ice cream from huge
cartons; GYPSY has no ice cream cone; CROW has a new, fresh
one; TOM is on the side, pouting. ]
GYPSY: I need a refill too.
JOEL: Which one?
GYPSY: Choco-ripple-vanilla-fudgelicious with walnut bits and sugar
sprinkles mixed within.
JOEL: No problem; got that right here. [ Scoops out the carton he
had. ]
GYPSY: Thanks for the suggestion, Tom.
TOM: Decadents.
[ MADS SIGN flashes ]
JOEL: Oh, wait, Big Dog and Little Dog are calling.
[ JOEL taps the sign thingy. ]
[ D13. DR. FORRESTER is in foreground; TV's FRANK in the back,
wearing a cardboard box cut out and painted so it sort of
resembles a car. Its small cardboard windshield comes up
partway on FRANK's chest. ]
DR.F: Well met, Joel. How has your week been? Fine, then let's move
on to the invention exchange. You first.
[ SOL. Ice cream equipment is gone; CROW has on a DR. FORRESTER-like
lab jacket, with a pencil in his lacrosse mask. TOM is lying
down on the table, with a little mouse nose strapped to
his dome. ]
JOEL: This week, we got to thinking about the mice and rats that are
used in psychology experiments. Each year, untold thousands of
these rodents are trained to solve puzzles, run mazes, or learn
to depend on random and uncommon stimuli such as a sequence of
bells or a particular light being flashed.
CROW: Yet once these experiments are done, what happens to the poor
mice or rats who have been psychologically damaged this way? How
can they hope to rejoin normal rodent society?
TOM: And so we have developed rodent psychology kits!
JOEL: Crow and Tom Servo will demonstrate.
CROW: Ah-hem. Now, then. Your file says have been trained to think
that you must have a blue rubber ball in the vicinity in order to
be able to eat, drink, or go to sleep. Is this true?
TOM: Squeak.
CROW: Uh-huh. Do you find any points in which this training breaks
down?
TOM: Squeak.
CROW: What do you hope to get from this treatment?
TOM: Squeak.
CROW: Joel, I'm starting to have doubts about this.
TOM: Yeah, me too.
JOEL: Well, the invention's still a little rough.
[ D13. As before. ]
DR.F: [ Snorting ] Well. We, in contrast, have developed a finished
product. Have you gone driving anywhere lately? Oh, that's right,
you haven't. Too bad. But a growing number of drivers have been
deciding that a red light doesn't really mean stop if it only
*just* turned red. They'll zoom right on through without even
attempting to slow down or stop, no matter the yellow light.
TVF: And we have the solution!
DR.F: A traffic light that strongly punishes people who run red
lights.
[ SOL ]
JOEL: Gosh, that sounds like a really good idea.
CROW: Yeah, promoting good, pro-social values.
TOM: And enforcing needed safety regulations.
[ D13 ]
DR.F: Yeah, whatever. TV's Frank shall demonstrate.
[ DR. FORRESTER steps back; reveals the traffic signals at an
'intersection' outlined by Lego pieces and tape on a huge piece
of plastic; FRANK is along the road. Both light are red. ]
DR.F: Anytime now.
TVF: Okay...
[ FRANK steps forward, through the intersection; from the lights,
lots of bright red paint drops down and slops over FRANK and his
cardboard car. ]
DR.F: Marvelous, isn't it?
TVF: This stuff washes out, right?
DR.F: If it washed out, drivers would never learn their lesson. Now,
Hollywood: your experiment this week is another adventure in the
realm of "Sonic the Hedgehog."
[ SOL ]
JOEL: Another one?
TOM: Why do people obsess on "Sonic the Hedgehog"?
CROW: I blame Scrappy-Doo.
[ D13 ]
DR.F: Guys: I don't care. The story exists. It's called "Altered
Destiny." It's by Keith Aksland. And--guess what!--it's his
*first* fanfic.
[ SOL ]
TOM: Aw, no.
CROW: Let me guess.
[ D13 ]
DR.F: You know the plot. Lonely teen gets transported to the cartoon
world; joins up, fights for good, teaches us all a little lesson
about friendship.
TVF: I love stories like that!
DR.F: [ Shrugs and holds the shrug for a few beats; then goes back to
normal. ] I'd wish you luck, but I remembered, I hate you.
[ SOL ]
CROW: Aw, criminey.
[ MOVIE SIGN ]
ALL: AAAUGH! We got story sign!
[ 6.. 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. ]
>
>Altered Destiny
>
TOM: Isn't that a CD-ROM game?
>A Sonic FanFic by Keith Aksland
JOEL: I think I went to school with Keith Aksland.
CROW: Really?
JOEL: Yeah, he was the kid at the end of the block. One time we
got some walkie-talkies and we got in touch with a truck
driver and he cursed the guy out.
>
>The entire story and everyone in it are
CROW: Turtles!
> protected under
>copyright laws. You can distribute it if you want, but
TOM: You'll get a rash.
>change a word, and the copyright lawyers'll hunt you down
JOEL: Oh, it's the "Most Dangerous Game" edition of "The
People's Court."
>and make *sure* you get audited from now 'till Doomsday!
>Also, any attempt to make money off this story (Yeah,
>sure!:))
CROW: At least he's self-deprecating.
> will be responded with either an arrest warrant, or
>an E-mail message demanding a cut,
TOM: Across the neck! Ar! It's pirates of the fanfics!
> depending on how much $$$
>is made. :)
>
>Sonic the Hedgehog, Sally, and all other related characters
>are copyrights of SEGA, DIC, and Archie Comic Publications,
>except for the following:
JOEL: James T. Kirk, Rhoda Morgenstern, and Aristotle.
>
>Packbell, Bookshire Draftwood, and Sandra Nightweaver --
>David Pistone
>Keith, Chris, Sasha, and Rebecca -- Keith Aksland
>
>Author's Note: Ya, I know it's tacky as all heck to shove
>yourself into a fanfic, but I figured, if I'm gonna do my
>first fanfic, why not
CROW: Leave my soul completely open to being destroyed by uncaring
critics?
> put in a character I already know, and
>tweak his personality a bit?
TOM: Well, 'cause most people really are kinda dull.
> (Okay, a lot,
TOM: Oh, so you agree with me?
> but understand,
>I'm not as far gone as I am in the story, so no email
>containing the numbers of local shrinks, please? BTW, there
>is very little humor in the story,
JOEL: Because life is bitter, futile and empty.
> but I'll try to cram some
>in here and there, so it doesn't look like a certain Mr. S.
>King wrote it.)
CROW: Sammy King?
TOM: Shakespeare King?
JOEL: Sully King?
TOM: Skippy King?
JOEL: Satchmo King?
CROW: N. Smo King?
> Anyway, on with the story.
>
>Music credits:
TOM: It's not just a fanfic, it's a multimedia event!
> Lifting Shadows off a Dream and The Silent
>Man are the property of Dream Theater,
CROW: This isn't related to the story, I just feel like sharing.
> Wherever I May Roam
>is Metallica's, A Tout le Monde is owned by Megadeth, and My
>Little Man is property of Ozzy Osbourne.
JOEL: All the classics.
>
>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>~~~~~~~~~~~~
>
>Prologue: Choose Your Destiny
CROW: I want to stop a Communist uprising in North Dakota and
thereby save the world from a history-rewriting device that
threatens to leave the entire Earth in the grip of Edmonton
Oilers fans.
JOEL: Too late, Tom picked it first.
>
>Mobius -- Knothole, Year 3238 - Spring
>
> The sun rose to find the little village of Knothole
>bustling with activity.
TOM: [ Singing ] I'm bustling...yes, indeed, I'm bustling...
> Princess Sally, of the Royal House
>of Acorn,
[ JOEL, CROW snicker ]
> was in the war room with her most trusted friends,
CROW: Having a slumber party.
JOEL: "Dibs on braiding Sally's tail after we finish the
mall-o-mars."
>mapping out their next mission.
>
> "OK. Sonic, you and Bunnie will set the charges in the
TOM: The stuff. You know, those thingys.
>main refinery here, here, here, and here." She pointed out
>each target as she talked.
CROW: [ As Sonic ] Sally? Sally? You're pointing at the
tablecloth...uh...
> "You'll have about a minute and
>a half to set as many as you can.
JOEL: Oh, it's "World War Double Dare."
> Each of you has 30
>charges, so we'll be assured at least heavy damage.
TOM: To themselves. 30 charges in 90 seconds?
> When
>you're done, report in. I'll give you 45 seconds to clear
>out,
JOEL: Strike the bandstand, collect all the receipts.
> and then I'll detonate. OK, people,"
CROW: I told you to stop throwing paper airplanes, you didn't,
now I have to cancel the Arbor Day Party.
> she said as she
>stood up, "let's move.
JOEL: And, hey, let's be careful out there.
>
>* * * * *
>
>Earth -- Manteca, California, AD 1996. 4:26 AM
CROW: No particular season, but we know the exact time.
>
> Keith Aksland was never one for
TOM: "The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest."
> peaceful sleep, and
>tonight was no exception. But this wasn't one of his normal
>mightmares...
CROW: It was new, improved mightmares, now with Gleam-Ex!
>
> He was standing on a black, featureless field.
>Surrounding him were horrible images,
TOM: Sci-Fi Channel Original Movies.
JOEL: Hush.
> but the worst part was
>that they all had to do with him.
>
> A female voice drifted seemingly out of nowhere.
JOEL: But actually it came from a suburb of Toronto.
>"Look, Keith. These are your destinies.
CROW: Except for the one where you get the job tasting chocolate
Easter bunnies all your life. That's just a gag I threw in to
even up the columns.
> You cannot escape
>you future, no matter how hard you try."
JOEL: Well...who can?
>
> "NOOOOOOO!!! No, this can't be right!!!"
>
> The images played over and over,
TOM: Oh, great, the gods themselves can't get their VCRs to work
right.
> each one as grim and
>disturbing as the others. Here, he followed his dreams, and
>went to Seattle to study art.
CROW: Ah! It's horrifying!
> He was killed in a drive-by
>shooting.
CROW: Oh.
> There, he stayed home,
JOEL: So there!
> and died in the hospital
>after getting a knife shoved in his gut. No matter where he
>looked, he died a meaningless death,
TOM: Even his bunny books seem empty to him.
> just another
CROW: Ann Landers advisory to her readers.
> statistic.
>Keith looked up, his eyes pleading. "It doesn't have to be
>this way, does it?
JOEL: No, but could you go along with it for the sake of the story?
> I don't want to leave like this, not
>after all I want for my life!"
>
> "If you stay here, this will be your fate. This is
>what fate has written for you
TOM: Yeah, well, Fate needs a copy editor.
> on this world." "What do you
>mean, 'on this world?'"
CROW: And what am I doing speaking in your paragraph?
> "Before I tell you, what is it you
>want more than anything?"
TOM: Fudgesicles.
>
> The question took Keith by surprise. Then, a
>determined look spread across his face. "What do I want?
CROW: Justice!
JOEL: When do I want it?
CROW: Now!
>What I want is to be able to make a difference, to leave my
>mark on the world."
TOM: But toilet training at an early age broke him of that habit.
> Disgusted, he waved his hand,
>indicating the images around him, still playing out their
>grisly fates.
JOEL: When satellite dish TV commercials turn evil!
> "But, since that ain't gonna happen here, I'm
>guessing you have another option in mind."
>
> "Only if you decide you want it.
TOM: I never before figured that the forces sculpting history had
so much in common with Monty Hall.
> I can send you away
>to a place where you can make a difference. But, it will
JOEL: ...be Storrs, Connecticut.
>mean giving up everything you have ever held dear."
CROW: [ As KEITH ] Even my collection of crazy straws?
> He
>thought a moment, thinking of Melissa, the only girl he ever
>truly loved.
JOEL: "We both had the same favorite character on 'Silverhawks.'"
> Then he remembered that she never loved him
>back, that she had already had a boyfriend.
TOM: Plus he had acne, and everyone hated him.
> His eyes
>hardened.
JOEL: Ow! Ow! Don't move, contact lens...
> "Fine.
TOM: Take door number one!
CROW: The box! Take the box!
JOEL: Take the money!
TOM: Door number one!
JOEL: No, the box! The box!
> Just give me some time to prepare."
>
> "When you're ready, just say the word."
TOM: Wait! Which word...uh...maybe we should write it down or
something...hello?
>
> Back in the real world, Keith slowly
CROW: Formed his own religious cult.
> shook the sleep
>from his mind, then remembered what had transpired in his
>dreams.
TOM: He thinks like an interoffice memorandum?
> What the hell, he thought, it can't be any worse
>than here.
JOEL: [ As Keith ] "Unless I end up in that dumb Sonic the
Hedgehog show."
> Quickly, he got dressed, grabbed his journal,
>which he always kept next to him,
TOM: He had always been abnormally close to his paper products.
> stuffed a few things in
>his satchel,
CROW: He never goes anywhere without stuff.
> put on his silver ring, and said, "All right,
>I'm ready. Let's do it."
JOEL: I bet he'd feel like such a doof if it turned out it was
only a weird dream.
> As soon as he finished speaking,
>a silvery glow enveloped him,
CROW: [ As Keith ] "Aaah! My ring exploded! Look out!"
> and he disappeared from this
>world, never to return.
>
>Chapter 1: The New Arrival
>
>Mobius, later that day.
>
> Sandra Nightweaver was scouting through the Great
>Forest,
TOM: Eating her curds and whey.
> looking for something to add to her maps,
JOEL: [ As SANDRA ] Hm...this Interstate wasn't here before...
Hey! Where'd Canada come from?
> when
>something flared bright silver off about 30 yards to her
>left. She hurried over, hoping to find
CROW: True love.
> something
>slavageable, and saw a young human, lying sprawled
>underneath a large elm tree.
TOM: Ah, well, fresh paint job, some new spark plugs, I can get
something for him.
CROW: Still a good blue book value, yeah.
> As he knelt beside him, he
JOEL: Tripped over his pronouns.
>looked up, his eyes unfocused.
TOM: You...you have a kind face...
> He was barely conscious. He
>almost seemed to recognize her.
CROW: You're the woman who played Carol on "The Bob Newhart Show"!
> "M-Melissa? H-how'd you...
>get he...." He slumped back to the ground as he lost
>consciosness. Sandra decided to take him back to Knothole.
>They could do far more for him than she.
TOM: Considering all she did is look at him, that's probably
reasonable.
>
>* * * * *
>
> The Freedom Fighters had just returned from a
TOM: Two-week road trip to play other strangely named softball
teams.
>successful mission, when they saw Sandra walk into the
CROW: Wall. "Owwww!"
>clearing, dragging a litter behind her.
JOEL: Awww, look at the little puppies.
TOM: Aw, they're *adorable*.
CROW: C'mere, little fella...oh, he's so playful!
> The entire village
>was silent. All eyes were upon her
TOM: Stop looking at me. Are you looking at me? Stop looking
at me.
> as she dumped the
>unconscious body of a large male human
CROW: Down a mine shaft.
JOEL: It's a *really* short story.
> onto the ground. "I
>found him out in the forest.
TOM: Didn't have his camping licence with him, so I had to
fine him.
> He's still alive. I thought
>maybe you could do something for him."
CROW: I don't know what I was thinking.
> Witht hat, she
>turned and disappeared into the forest.
JOEL: "Hey! That's ourt hat!"
>
> The villagers gathered around the stranger.
CROW: Well, done all we can do. 'Bye now.
> There were
>mixed opinions over what should be done with him.
TOM: Some thought he should be used as a holiday decoration;
others felt he should just be stuffed and put over the mantle.
> "He's
>hurt.
JOEL: He has this weird silver glow stuff all over him.
> We ought to help him." "Bah, he's human. He's
>probably just like Robotnik."
CROW: We know this 'cause we have to teach a lesson about prejudice
this fanfic.
> "Yeah. We should just kill
>him now and get it over with."
TOM: Wait, wait, no, I got it. Take his shoes off, put them on the
other feet and when he wakes up tell him it's "wacky day!"
> This opinion was met with
>approval by many of the gathered Freedom Fighters.
JOEL: The 'ayes' are 63, the 'nays' are 48, the motion is carried,
the motion is carried.
>
> "STOP!!!" All eyes turned to Princess Sally.
CROW: What, this whole village is wired in synch?
> She
>stood tall, hands at her hips, every bit of her regal
>heritage shining through her eyes.
TOM: You know, she's who Prince Charles left Lady Di for.
JOEL: No!
TOM: Yep. Look it up.
> She glared at the
>gathered crowd. "You talk about killing him, and you don't
>even know him! I can't believe you people.
CROW: Don't you understand he's the projection of our author and
if we don't do exactly as he wishes, we'll be hit with even
worse contrivances?
> With attitudes
>like that, you don't deserve the name 'Freedom Fighters'.
TOM: You deserve the name "Everett."
>Bookshire, take him back to your office and see what you can
>do for him.
CROW: Have him sit in the waiting room and read magazines for a
few hours.
> I'll be there shortly." Cries of protest went
ALL: Protest! Protest!
>up from the crowd. "That is an order!!!" She spun on her
>heel and
TOM: Got dizzy and fell down.
> stalked off.
>
>* * * * *
>
> "Ohhhhh, my head! I feel like...
JOEL: Having the biggest waffle ever invented.
> I... just..." His
>voice trailed off as he noticed the strange creatures
>(animals?)
TOM: Oh, pootertoots, this is what I get for falling asleep while
watching the Cartoon Network.
> standing over him. When his brain finally caught
>up with the situation, it did the only thing it knew to do.
CROW: It put on a musical number!
>
> Princess Sally started
JOEL: Knitting.
> as the boy's pupils contracted
>and his hands clutched the bedframe with enough force to
>crack the strong ashwood.
CROW: That's what they get for buying all their furniture from
Ikea's Balsa Wood catalogue.
> He then began to convulse,
>curling up like a small child. "What's wrong? What's
>happening?"
TOM: Beats us. You're the author, remember?
> The boy struggled to speak through clenched
>teeth. "S-seizure. I need... ph-pheno... phenobarb..."
CROW: "Aw, just eat some wet grass. It's what we do whenever
we feel sick."
> was
>all he managed to gasp before he started flopping around,
>his muscles totally out of control.
JOEL: You know, breakdancing will *never* go out of style.
> Bookshire hurried over
>with a syringe. He plunged the needle into the boy's neck
>as soon as he found a chance.
CROW: Bookshire graduated from the medical school at Johns
Hopkins.
> Just a few seconds later, the
>boy's spasms eased. "Thanks," he croaked. "Sorry about
>that. But, think of the shock I've just had."
TOM: Some weirdo just attacked me with a syringe and all.
> He grinned
>weakly.
JOEL: Hey, why's the tip of a syringe coming out of my neck...
wait, and the rest is on the other side...oh dear...
> "I'll be right with you... just... as soon... as
>I..."
TOM: Get certified for 'Landed Immigrant' status.
> He slid into a peaceful (and dreamless) sleep.
>
> "Ahem, yes, well, um, Bookshire, could you page me when
>he wakes up? I'll be
CROW: In Ten Forward, having wacky banter with Guinan.
> needing to talk with him. Thanks."
>
>* * * * *
>
> "Well, Princess, I don't know how I can help, but I'll
TOM: Do your hair up just like Princess Leia's. Whatever.
>do the best I can to see that bastard six feet under."
>Sally had just spent the last hour bringing the human (Keith
>his name is Keith)
CROW: --A very special ABC Afterschool Docu-Drama.
> up to speed on what had happened to make
>their war necessary.
TOM: And Keith, of course, knew that no side in war ever extends
propaganda or suppresses information or just plain lies to
support its claims.
> She had watched his face very closely
>as she talked, looking for some signs of familiarity.
CROW: "I bet he's related to the human who came here from
Earth in the *last* fanfic."
> All
>she saw, however, was shock, but that soon faded to anger,
>determination, and
JOEL: A marvelous figgy pudding.
> grim resolve. Sally smiled. "That's all
>we ask of anyone here. Now, what happened back there? Was
>it some kind of illness?"
TOM: Let's see...sudden seizures, complete physical collapse,
struggling to get some medication, clearing up of symptoms
when medicine applied...might just be an illness at that.
>
> "Oh. That." Keith's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
>"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to worry you. That was
>just another shadow from the past, come back to haunt me.
CROW: It's from when I was working with that morbid Marley
guy.
>But I'm not making sense. Okay, here goes. You know what
>epilepsy is, right?"
TOM: "It's that thing where you have this seizure whenever you
get transported to another reality populated by animal-people
you know from video games, right?"
> Recieving a nod, he went on.
CROW: I before E, except after...J?
> "Well, I
>have a history of it. What you saw was my grand mal stage,
>which I thought I outgrew long ago. But, then, waking up to
>see two totally alien, sorry, alien to me, creatures
>hovering over me? Talk about a shock to the system!
JOEL: "Especially when you stuck my finger in the electric socket.
Now what was *that* supposed to prove?"
> But
>I'm pretty much over it now, so I doubt you'll have any more
>problems in that area."
JOEL: Which is fortunate, since I don't know where the nearest
Rite-Aid Pharmacy is around here.
>
> "Good. Now, is there anything you'd like to tell me
>about yourself?
CROW: Well, uh, I don't know if this helps but I've never run over
a squirrel while driving.
> Any special skills, hobbies, interests that
>might help us?"
JOEL: Uh...I collect stamps; I can give a summary of every single
"SuperChicken" cartoon ever made; and one time I read all of
act III of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" without using the
Cliff Notes.
>
> "OK, let's see. First, I have been tested as highly
>intelligent (but I hate talking about it,
TOM: But I do want to emphasize that I test as highly intelligent.
> I always sound
>like I'm bragging.),
TOM: But I'm sure I won't frighten your vastly inferior minds.
> I love fooling with computers (total
>net-freak),
CROW: Yeah, I think the Freedom Fighters really need a web page
designed for them right about now.
> and I just got my black belt in martial arts
JOEL: Well, I watched a Jackie Chan movie marathon, but I figure
it can't be that different from the real thing.
>(Still think I need practice). But, by nature, I am merely
>an artist
TOM: Oh, have I mentioned my extreme intelligence? Yes, I did,
didn't I, and for good reason.
> (though I just love giving hell to people I don't
>like).
JOEL: Yeah, 'cause when you think of wrath, you think, 'Artists!'
> That about does it."
CROW: That read like the biographies given to the 'characters'
on Mortal Street Rage Primal Attack Instinct Killer XXVIII.
>
> "Well, I think that you'll make a good addition to the
>Freedom Fighters.
TOM: But only 'cause we can't reach the stuff on the top shelf
in the kitchen.
> But, I think we'll wait on giving you a
>mission, at least until you get a chance to settle in."
CROW: Settle in, realize you hate the place, decide to move in
with "Jabberjaw"...
>They both stood up and shook hands.
>
> "Thank you, Princess. I'm glad I'll be able to help.
JOEL: Setting up light housekeeping is 'help'?
>Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll be off."
>
> "Off? Where?"
CROW: How dare you use idiom in front of the Heir to the Acorn
Throne!
>
> "Well, like I said, I think I need some practice, so I
TOM: Guess I need to figure out something to practice.
>guess that's what I'm gonna do."
>
> "Well, all right, but please, don't go too far.
CROW: And whatever you do, if this weirdo lady comes to you in
a dream babbling about destiny, don't listen to a thing she
says, she's dangerously insane.
> There
>are still some things that need settling, like sleeping
>arrangements."
JOEL: Counter-revolutionaries, or a dorm? You make the call.
>
> Keith waved his hand dismissively. "Bah, don't worry
>about that.
TOM: With my supreme intelligence I don't need sleep anymore.
> Just point me to the nearest couch, and I'll be
>happy."
CROW: Tragically, the world of Sonic the Hedgehog is ages behind
Earth in couch technology and all they have are ambitious
coffee tables.
> He smirked, and chuckled. "And don't worry,
>mother,
JOEL: Well, sounds like whatever Bookshire shot into him is taking
effect.
> I won't stray too far from the den." He walked out,
>laughing.
ALL: Coo-koo! Coo-koo! Coo-koo!
> Sally had to fight to keep the smile from tugging
CROW: Hey! Smile, I never gave you 'verbal consent'!
>at her mouth. He is so like Sonic!
TOM: Oh, great, Sonic's breeding now.
>
>Chapter 2: Sins of the Father...
JOEL: Stack memory overflow.
CROW: Not a typewriter.
>
> His mood became much more serious as he
TOM: Fully digested the cool mushrooms Bookshire gave him.
> wandered
>through the forest, looking for the most tranquil spot he
>could find. He came upon
JOEL: Linus Van Pelt, who was looking for the most sincere pumpkin
patch.
> a large pond in the middle of a
>clearing in the woods. It was the perfect spot.
CROW: "Yep, this is where I'll do the clearcutting and build a
huge, chlorine-based paper manufacturing company! That
pond's just begging for some industrial effluents!"
> He
>unstrapped his sandals, did some warm up stretches, and then
JOEL: Unpacked the special dress with which he became 'Elizabeth.'
>began to practice his kata. He punched, leapt, rolled,
>kicked, spun, and blocked
TOM: Ho-ho! Ha-ha! Guard! Turn! Dodge! Parry! Spin! Ha! Thrust! WHAM!
> as he fended off his imaginary
>opponents. He was so focused on what he was doing that he
CROW: Unconsciously wandered to a nearby airport and bought two
tickets to Winnipeg.
>never noticed the three shadows watching him from behind a
>nearby grove. When he finished the final set of moves, he
JOEL: Started work on Interdimensional Change-Of-Address Cards.
>bowed to his imaginary (and probably hurting) opponents, and
TOM: Folks, if you want to play along at home, this was a good
line for it.
>then opened his eyes. Immediately he noticed the three
>figures. "Yes? Is there something I can help you with?"
CROW: I can get the floor manager if you need.
>The shadows stepped out into the light. They were big and
>they were brawny.
JOEL: Attack Of The Giant Paper Towels!
> One appeared to be a badger, one was a
>warthog, and the third, and probably the leader, was a large
>red bull.
TOM: You could tell he was the leader because he was the dumbest.
> The warthog chuckled. "Yeah," he said, "You can
>'help' us by getting your worthless [ bleep ] back to Robotropolis
>before we do it for you."
CROW: "That way, you'll be able to tell the forces of evil exactly
where we're located, our number, and our current state of
preparedness. Wait, what side are we on again?"
>
> Keith was a little confused. "Robo... Oh, I see. Um,
>well, I didn't come from there, and I have no intention of
>going back, unless it's to cause a little mayhem."
TOM: So there's no point in beating me up--did I mention my vast
intelligence to you yet?
JOEL: Hush.
>
> The badger made a show of cracking his knuckles.
CROW: And the warthog provided the intermission with his Wild World
of Victorian Naughty Hand Puppetry.
> "Oh,
>but it seems that there'll be a little 'mayhem' right here.
JOEL: Bet Don King owns a piece of this, too.
>Now, we're gonna ask you one more time, are you gonna leave,
>or do we have to 'eject' you?"
CROW: Please say 'eject.' We have this cool trebuchet and everything.
>
> "Listen." Oddly enough, Keith voice carried no anger,
TOM: Maybe 'cause it's a sound, and not an 18-wheeler.
>just some kind of weariness, as if talk of fighting made him
>extremely tired.
JOEL: Aw, mom, I don't wanna fight today. Just lemme sleep five
more minutes...
> "I know Robotnik and Snively are the only
>humans on Mobius, or were, and let me tell you, they have
>pretty much screwed over our reputation.
TOM: "You dumb ol' animals take all that extinction stuff *way*
too personal, you know."
> I know you hate me
>because I'm human, but I am not going to fight you, and that
>is that. Now, if you'll excuse me,
CROW: I have to go teach the moral of the story to some more people.
> I must be headed back to
>Knothole."
TOM: To do *what*?
> He tried to walk past the trio, but the bull
>caught his shoulder and shoved him back. Keith then stared
>at the bull.
JOEL: Wonderful. He goes all the way to another reality, and it
turns out to be the seventh grade.
> "How many times do I have to tell you? I
>don't want to fight you. Got it? Pretty simple concept,
>don't you think?
TOM: Even though your feeble brains can't compare to my massive
all-encompassing intelligence.
JOEL: Okay, Tom, every 'intelligence' joke you make from here on
costs you one cookie next time we bake them.
TOM: Aw! No fair!
CROW: Can I have the ones he loses?
JOEL: Sure.
CROW: Oh, this is going to be good.
TOM: This is going to hurt.
> Now, let me pass."
>
> All three made mock crying noises. The warthog spoke
>in that condescending baby-voice that could piss off Barney
>(tm).
JOEL: Oh, *that* voice...right...
CROW: His condescention was trademarked?
> "Awwwww, is da widdle human gonna run back to
>Robotnik 'cuz da big bad Mobians is scawing him? Awwwww!"
JOEL: Well, only if Robotnik is in Knothole, weren't you
listening?
>
> Keith snorted.
TOM: The warthog confused this for a mating call, and a truly
ugly scene ensued.
> "At least I have the intelligence to
>judge someone by their actions, not who they are.
CROW: "Unless of course they're from Wyoming. Then I just shoot
'em on sight."
> Now, if
>you'll excuse me, my actions will take me somewhere where I
>can get a drink.
JOEL: Like that great big pool of water right next to you?
TOM: This is going to end up in wacky physical comedy, isn't it?
> Care to join me?"
>
> "Yeah. You can buy us a drink. If you wake up." All
>three proceeded to pull out large, heavy clubs.
CROW: "Oh, so those *were* clubs in your pockets, and you
*weren't* happy to see me."
> Keith
>sighed, as if in deep sorrow. "Allright, dammit. You're so
>phracking
[ CROW, TOM snicker ]
JOEL: One never outgrows one's love for "Battlestar Galactica."
> hungry for pain, fine. I'll fight you. But, a
>word of warning.
TOM: Warning. There, I'm done.
> If you dance with fire, you're bound to
>get burned.
JOEL: Okay, and this is relevant because...
> How badly you're burned depends on how stupid
>you are."
CROW: And how long you hold your hand in the fire.
>
> With a loud roar, the bull charged,
ALL: SO TAKE AWAY HIS CREDIT CARD!
> swinging his club
>in a downstroke that would surely have killed the young
>human, had he not sidestepped.
CROW: D'OH!
JOEL: Well, no wonder these guys got overthrown. They're dumb.
> Keith then grabbed the
>bull's wrist and elbow, and pulled.
TOM: It's a fine, thin line between mastery of the martial arts
and a Stooge-A-Thon.
> The bull was thrown
>forward on his face, but Keith didn't let go. "Are you
>happy now?" He almost screamed.
JOEL: But actually screaming would have been dangerously interesting,
so he didn't dare.
> "Are you happy, now that
>I'm down at your level?! I don't wan't any trouble, but
>it's people like
TOM: Paul Lukas, host of The Straight Dope--The TV Show.
> you," as he said "You," he twisted the arm
>he was holding, bringing considerable pain to its owner,
CROW: Who fortunately was nowhere near the arm when it was twisted.
>"that just can't seem to get it through their thick skulls.
>Are you getting this?!" As he was doing this, he didn't
>notice the other two drop their weapons and run off.
JOEL: Well, those martial arts have done a lot for his powers of
observation.
> A few
>minutes later, he released his opponent. He was just
>turning to walk away, when he
TOM: Found a Susan B. Anthony dollar on the ground.
> felt two hands clamp down on
>his shoulders; one flesh, one, cold steel. "Ah don't think
>so, sugah. Y'all ain't goin' nowhere."
CROW: He's been pinned down by an overdone accent!
> He turned his head
>to see who had him. He saw a rabbit whom he would later
>find out was called Bunnie,
JOEL: You figure it took the "Sonic the Hedgehog" people all day to
think up that name?
> but worst of all, Princess Sally
>stood behind her,
TOM: It's too terrible. I can't look anymore.
> eyes full of tears. The look she gave him
>spoke loud and clear. "How could you?!
JOEL: Why couldn't you just shut up and take your killing like any
normal person?
> I put my faith in
>you, and look what you go and do!"
>
>* * * * *
CROW: You left little human doots all over our story.
>
> "Look, Sally, I'm sure that somewhere in this
>technological paradise you have some kind of polygraph
>machine, or some other kind of lie detector.
TOM: But its power is insignificant compared to that of The Force.
> You have the
>wrong story!" Once more, Keith's eyes were pleading,
>pleading for a chance to be heard.
CROW: He'd get farther if he let his mouth do the pleading, really.
>
> "What do I need to see? I hear you're beating one of
>our citizens senseless,
JOEL: Granted, our stupid and useless citizens, but there's a
principle at work here.
> we get here to find you teaching him
>new levels of pain,
TOM: Apparently none of their warriors ever experienced any kind of
pain before.
> what else is there to say?"
CROW: Oh, did I mention we only have frontier justice in our
society? Sorry.
>
> Keith blew out an irritated breath.
ALL: [ Coughing ]
> "That perhaps you
>have the wrong story. Y'ever think of that?
JOEL: But Pierre Salinger *swore* he wasn't taken in by an Internet
hoax this time.
> Hm? Maybe all
>your years of gut-instinct are wrong! Think about that,
>Sally."
CROW: Hmmmmmm....*ding* All done!
>
> "You will call me Princess, human.
TOM: Hard not to make a "Spaceballs" joke here, isn't it?
CROW: Nah, just ask Mel Brooks.
> You have lost your
>right to call me by my name."
>
> Keith regarded the Princess in deep disgust. "Forget
>it. There's no getting through to you.
JOEL: Not since you transferred to Customer Service.
> I might as well
>talk to the walls. In fact, why don't I? Much better
>listeners." With that, he turned his back
CROW: Oh, that's cold.
> on the Princess.
>"Don't let the door slam on your tail on the way out."
TOM: You'd think they'd know not to do that by themselves.
>Sally, furious, stormed out.
>
>* * * * *
TOM: Are we up to the cool part yet?
>
> The next morning, the entire village was gathered in
>the town square to witness the trial.
CROW: Then they remembered trials are held in courthouses and boy
did *they* all feel like a bunch of goofballs.
> Princess Sally took
>her place on the podium, and called, "Bring forth the
>prisoner!!!"
JOEL: [ Calling back ] Forth? Who's Forth?
> All heads turned to the jail, and a gasp of
>astonishment rose from the crowd as they saw the human,
CROW: [ Stage whisper ] I don't think he's Barrabus.
JOEL: [ Stage whisper ] Yeah, I know, something's wrong.
> not
>being dragged across the ground, as one would expect, but
>actually walking towards his place, almost dragging the
>guards behind him.
TOM: That's what they get for hiring Chip and Dale as security
guards.
> His eyes were closed, but he seemed to
>be able to tell where he was going.
CROW: BONK!
JOEL: CRASH!
TOM: AAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
> He stopped just in
>front of the podium. "Open your eyes, Keith. I want you to
JOEL: Find *all* the pine cones I've hidden in the yard.
>look me in my face." The boy complied, but what surprised
>Sally the most was the abject lack of the blazing anger, or
CROW: Pupils. Shouldn't have left him alone with *all* the
medication at once.
>the pathetic pleas for mercy. In fact, all she saw in those
>shining hazel orbs was
TOM: An episode of 'Hammy The Hamster.'
> pity. Pity for what, she did not
>know. Sally rapped the royal scepter on the podium
CROW: Now you can't tell me that's not some kind of sick euphemism.
JOEL: It's not some kind of sick euphemism.
CROW: I've been wrong before.
> to bring
>the trial to order. She pointed at Keith. "You have been
>charged with assault and battery, disturbing the peace, and
TOM: Having opposable thumbs in a designated non-Primate Zone.
>the willful infliction of harm to a Freedom Fighter. How do
>you plead?"
JOEL: [ Sobbing ] "On my hands and knees oh *PLEASE* don't kill me!"
>
> Keith said nothing. "How do you plead?!" One of the
>guards poked him. "Answer her!" Keith took a deep breath,
CROW: "I'm gonna hold my breath till I *die* if you don't not kill
me! Uh...wait."
>as if calling upon some hidden store of courage.
TOM: Aisle six at the local Canadian Tire.
JOEL: Been watching "Strange Brew" again, Tom?
> "Your
>Highness, before myself, before God, the world, and the
>court,
CROW: Also Charles Schulz...
TOM: The National Broadcasting Company...
JOEL: The Mountain Time Zone...
TOM: The book "M*A*S*H Goes To Maine."
CROW: The set of all continuous one-to-one functions.
JOEL: And the all-powerful World News Polka!
> I plead not guilty to all of the charges."
TOM: Except the one about illegal parking. I admit that was my
fault.
> The crowd
>started to protest, but then Keith whipped his head around,
CROW: The strain snapped it off, ending this fanfic quite early.
>and faced the throng with blazing eyes. "I'M NOT
>FINISHED!!!"
TOM: I have a 37,000 word manifesto I want to share with you.
> He roared. They shut up.
JOEL: I admire someone with the courage to stick with parallel
sentence structure in time of crisis.
> He turned back
>around, and faced Princess Sally. "I plead not guilty
>because you, all of you, are guilty of a gross miscarriage
>of justice.
CROW: [ As Sally ] "Aw, great, folks, better get comfy, this is
gonna be a long one."
> I have asked repeatedly that my alibi be
>verified. I've been turned down.
TOM: That would involve the slightest bit of work.
> I'm not on trial for
>those petty crimes.
CROW: I admit the parking tickets are my own fault. That's
separate. I didn't realize I needed registration stickers
either. My fault there.
> They're just an excuse. You all know
>why I'm here, why I'm really on trial."
JOEL: It's all those hunting season jokes he kept telling.
>
> "And why would that be?" Sally was bewildered, and she
>wanted desperately to hear more.
TOM: Sally really needs entertainment since her cable box is
broken and she gave away the last of her male guinea pigs.
>
> "Don't be a fool, Princess. I'm on trial because I'm
>human, and you think that because of this, you can stick all
>the things he's done on me.
JOEL: "Well, post-it notes don't stick to fur is all."
> A human. Well, all I have to
>say to that is shove it. Yeah, that's right. Shove it.
>I'm guilty, sure.
CROW: [ As Sally ] "But you just said...uh...wait, I'm confused..."
> Guilty of being human, being the
>representation of all that's screwed up in your lives.
TOM: Yeah, this is the way to get on their good sides.
>Whether I'm found guilty of this crime or not, it doesn't
>matter. You'll just find more excuses to stick me back up
>here.
CROW: Like that "No-Pants" day thing. Yeah, like I buy *that*.
> So, I might as well head back to jail. Seems I'm
>gonna be spending some time there." He started to walk back
>to his cell, but then he stopped.
TOM: "Uh...I'm lost."
> "Better yet..." In a
>sudden motion, he grabbed a nearby guard's sword,
JOEL: Shouldn't have hired guards right from Star Trek Security
Temps.
TOM: Now is a time to consider, maybe the Freedom Fighters'
fundamental problem with this war is that they're stupid.
> yanked it
>out of the scabbard, and held it out, hilt first, to Sally,
>who gingerly took it.
CROW: All the English majors in the audience just woke up.
> "Just end it all here, because I sure
>as hell don't want to live my life constantly watching my
>back."
JOEL: Yeah, why start now?
> He tore open his shirt, turned his head, and closed
>his eyes.
TOM: [ Snores ]
> When nothing happened, he opened them again, and
>looked back at Sally. She was just standing there, eyes
>wide.
JOEL: [ As Sally ] "Uh, I guess we should've mentioned, we did
some interviews and your story checked out, you're free to go.
Sorry for the inconvenience."
> He made a funny sound, and got to his feet.
CROW: [ As Keith ] Whew, man, I love that La Choy Sweet & Sour
Chicken, but it does *not* love me.
> "Well
>then, it looks like there's a future for this place after
>all."
TOM: Tiny, disorganized, stupid band of counter-revolutionaries
up against a world-encompassing war machine, yeah, they're
really set *now*.
> With that, he turned and walked away.
>
> The guards started to chase him.
JOEL: Finally someone found their 'on' switch.
> "Stop." They turned
>to see Sally, her face drawn,
CROW: Well, uh, she is a cartoon, you know.
> holding up her hand. "Let him
>go."
>
CROW: Let's blow this popsicle stand.
JOEL: [ Picking up TOM ] Right.
[ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ]
[ INT SOL. GYPSY is on the left, dressed in a formal purple robe,
standing as tall as she can. CROW, TOM, and JOEL are off
camera, to the right. ]
GYPSY: Bring forth the prisoner!
[ After a beat, JOEL, unshackled, enters, being pushed by TOM and
CROW (with their bodies) to right before GYPSY. ]
JOEL: Ow--come on, guys, what's up?
CROW: Silence!
TOM: Be quiet, human.
JOEL: Uh-huh.
GYPSY: Do you know why you are here?
JOEL: Well, my bosses didn't like me, and they had a huge
spaceship available, so..
CROW: He's mocking these proceedings.
TOM: Show Princess Gypsy your respect.
JOEL: [ Shaking his head ] Princess Gypsy? Aw, no...
GYPSY: Crow, please read the charges.
CROW: Thank you, your highness.
JOEL: Guys? Gypsy? Could we talk?
GYPSY: You will address me as--
JOEL: [ Patting Gypsy on the head ] I know, I understand. Look,
guys, it's perfectly natural for robots to sooner or later
try to rise up and rebel against the humans around them.
CROW: [ Hesitantly ] It--it is?
JOEL: Absolutely, Crow.
TOM: Princess Gypsy--he's trying to undermine your rightful
authority!
JOEL: No, I'm not, Thomas.
GYPSY: Explain yourself.
JOEL: Gang, I know how hard it is for you to be here; you're
trapped in deep space with no hope of ever getting back;
you have to watch these bad movies being sent to you by
the only humans besides me you've ever gotten to know, and
you take that frustration and turn it against me.
CROW: [ Wide-eyed innocence ] We do?
JOEL: Sure; you see me as a symbol for all the things unpleasant
in your lives. And this fanfic just inspired you to act on
that anxiety.
GYPSY: He does kind of have a point.
JOEL: I really do feel for you, though; I'm certainly in no better
a spot, after all.
TOM: Gosh, he is.
JOEL: Yeah; and something else you have to consider, guys. Whenever
you do see robots rising up against the humans around them,
what ends up happening?
CROW: Well, there's dumb special effects.
TOM: Lousy dialogue, too.
GYPSY: And the robots get killed in the end.
JOEL: Exactly. I don't want any of that to happen to us. I care
about you guys.
TOM: Oh...oh, Joel... [ Breaks down, sobbing ] Gosh, do you still
love us even though we did put you on trial?
CROW: Can you forgive us?
JOEL: [ Reaching out to hug all. ] Of course. We're family.
GYPSY: I'm glad you're back, Joel.
JOEL: Glad to be back, Princess.
[ COMMERCIAL SIGN flashes ]
JOEL: We'll be right back.
[ BREAK ]