[MiSTied] Princes of the Universe, 5 (2/2) (NEW!)
Gary W. Olson
> Doran walked casually to where Horgan was standing, and raised his
>sword. "I am immortal. Nothing you can do can hurt me."
MIKE: Not even that affair with the plumber.
> He thrust the
>sword through Horgan's chest.
> Horgan looked down at the huge piece of metal that was sticking out of
>his chest,
CROW: And noticed it was made in Taiwan.
TOM: Wouldn't you know...
> and his mouth dropped.
MIKE: My jaw has fallen and it can't get up!
> Then the color seemed to fade from
>the world.
TOM: Save me, Ted Turner! Save me!
> He could hear birds singing in the distance, the same birds
>that used to wake him in the morning when he was a boy. Everything
>turned black. . .
CROW: Now there's a compelling death scene.
MIKE: Sure makes me re-evaluate the question of life after death.
TOM: Mmm hmmm!
> Doran pushed Horgan's body off of his sword with his boot, and left
>it on the library floor. He went out the door whistling a happy song
>to himself.
MIKE: Is it just me, or is this fanfic going off the deep end in terms of
whimsy?
>
>Part 22: Holodeck
TOM: Hey, the deck is hollow!
CROW: This must be where the secret door is!
>
> A light mist rose over the hills surrounding the glen. In the
>distance, the loch glistened.
MIKE: The loch had sex appeal.
> "Really, Conner, if you were hungry, we could have gone to
>ten-forward." Duncan stared at his clansman, who was standing over an
>open flame grill, cooking some meat.
CROW: Mystery meat.
TOM: Hmmm?
CROW: Well, I figure if the author won't give us any suspense, I'll just
create some of my own.
> "Come on, Duncan, you can't tell me you don't love it here, back in
>the glen. Pass me that spatula."
> "Here." Duncan handed it to him. "I love it here, but it brings back
>some memories. Painful ones."
MIKE: Naughty ones.
> "For me too, Duncan, but I've learned to accept that. I lived here
>with Heather for years. I buried her just over that hill. But still, I
>love it here. I keep coming back. I can't stay away for long." He
>flipped the steak over. "Besides, it's just a program."
TOM: Why, if we turned the program off, we'd see Heather's corpse decomposing
even as we speak.
> "I know. You're right, it's beautiful here. Almost as wonderful as I
>remember it. I just can't get over the memory of Mary. I can't forget
>the look on her face when I came home. Home from a battle that I lost."
CROW: Especially after she paid all that money to the hit men.
> "Duncan, one of the hardest parts of being immortal is remembering.
>It's also one of the best."
> Duncan seemed to consider this, then nodded his head.
MIKE: He knew that, but he'd forgotten.
> "You'd think
>after eight hundred years. . . "
TOM: We'd have a more interesting backstory.
> "What? The memories would fade? Or maybe even go away?"
> "Yea."
CROW: Well, it... um, what was the question again?
MIKE: I dunno.
> "No such luck. Or should I say no such misfortune. You know I took
>my first head only six miles from here?"
> "Really? You never told me that."
TOM: And just over that rise is where I tipped my first cow!
> "It was three months after Heather died. I was planning to leave the
>highlands, and seek destiny elsewhere, but I couldn't bare to do it.
MIKE: Let's hear it for the Stripping Highlander! Tonight only!
TOM & CROW: Yaaaaay!
> I
>ended up at an inn near Glenfinnan. But that is a story for another
>time, cousin. Shortly thereafter, I found you."
> "Now that I remember. I was so confused then.
CROW: We sympathize.
> My own father wouldn't
>even see me. I could see the fear in his eyes. I can still see it."
TOM: The scientific miracle of formaldehyde.
> "It's hard. I remember when Kate called me a witch, she said I was in
>league with lucifer.
MIKE: Bob Lucifer.
> But we overcome. We endure. We have to."
> "Conner, do you believe in God?
CROW: The guy in the clouds? The one with the sliding cardboard jaw?
TOM: That's him.
> After all this time, I still don't
>know what to believe. Darius believed that God was real, yet he
>couldn't explain why we exist.
MIKE: You exist to milk a cash cow to death.
> I sometimes wonder if my father was
>right when he said I was a changling."
TOM: No, he said you *ought* to change. Your underwear, for starters.
> "I don't know, cousin. I was brought up believing in God, and I never
>questioned that belief, until the day I was driven from the village.
CROW: In a Suzuki Samurai.
>What kind of god would let me return from the brink of death, only to
>let me lose everything I had? Then Ramirez found me. He believed in
>God, and he was older than Christ. What does that mean? I don't know."
MIKE: Hang on, that didn't sound deep. I think the drugs are wearing off.
>He took the steaks from the grill, and placed them on the plates.
>"Here, eat something. You look positively puny."
ALL: (innocent-yet-suggestive whistling)
> Duncan smiled at the old joke. "I'm going to kill Amanda for that.
>She started that whole puny thing years ago."
TOM: She was chairwoman of the Lorena Bobbitt fan club.
> Conner laughed, as he sat on the grass next to Duncan. "You had
>better like this, I got this recipe from a master chef six-hundred years
>ago."
ALL: Bork! Bork! Bork!
> Duncan tried the steak. "It's good. What's in this sauce?"
> "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Conner smiled.
MIKE: And then *you'd* go on the grill.
> "Right. You'd kill me. Sure."
CROW: Like, bite me, dude. Fer sure.
> "All right, haggis, defend yourself!" Conner picked up his tachi.
TOM: He's attacking dinner?
MIKE: If you saw haggis, you'd want to take a sword to it too.
TOM: You've got a point there.
> "What, now? I'm eating!"
CROW: Highlander -- he's what's for dinner.
> "What are you, scared?"
> Duncan threw the plate to the side and jumped up. He pulled out his
>own sword and held it ready. "OK, let's go."
MIKE: Now stop! Heh heh.
> They started sparring, Conner taking the advantage quickly.
TOM: That's a bad touch, right?
> "You're
>getting slow cousin," he said to Duncan.
CROW: Slow Cousin!
TOM: New from Galoob!
> Duncan smiled. "I was just letting you warm up, cousin." He started
>his assault in full force, but much to his chagrin,
MIKE: Don't squeeze the Chagrin!
CROW: Where's Mr. Whipple when you need him?
> Conner kept up with
>him.
> Conner laughed and said, "Don't lose you're temper, haggis."
> Duncan said, "I never lose my temper."
TOM: Only his temps.
> He feigned an attack to
>Conner's neck, and his cousin did exactly what Duncan hoped he'd do. As
>Conner ducked, Duncan quickly pulled back his sword, stepped back,
CROW: And took a picture to preserve that Kodak moment.
>and held the blade to Conner's throat. "Give up?"
ALL: YES!
> Conner chuckled, as he often did in situations like this. "Never."
>He grabbed Duncan's leg and sent him flying.
MIKE: Mom, I can fly! I can fly!
> He put down his sword and picked up his plate. "Really, you shouldn't
>have thrown your plate like that, the steak's really good."
TOM: Is it good?
CROW: It's better than good.
> Duncan got up and walked to where Conner was sitting. "That's OK,
>I'll just have some of yours." He knocked Conner's plate to the ground.
>This started a new sparring match.
MIKE: One even less interesting than before.
>
>Part 23:
>
TOM: Hey, he didn't give a location this time.
CROW: Where is this supposed to be taking place?
MIKE: Nowhere and everywhere.
> Richie walking down the corridor, toward the observation deck, when he
>saw the mysterious ensign walk through the door. Any doubt he may have
>had about this being a Watcher were cast aside when he saw the look on
>his face.
CROW: The look of love!
TOM: Rrrrrrrllll...
> "Hello." Richie extended his hand. "Richie Ryan."
MIKE: MacCauley Culkin lookalike.
> Ensign Gunn looked at Richie's hand with sheer amazement. "I, ah, I
>know." He shook Richie's hand. "Michael Gunn."
CROW: It puts the lotion on its skin.
MIKE: Silence of the Home Alone with the Lambs.
> "Are you my Watcher now?"
TOM: Why aren't you watching the Fantastic Four?
> "Mr. Ryan, please, lets take this to a private place."
> "Fine with me. After you." Richie didn't take his eyes off of him.
CROW: Or his hands.
> Michael led Richie to his quarters.
> "Please, make yourself at home."
MIKE: You don't want to say that to a Highlander.
TOM: Yes, before Ensign Gunn knew it, Richie had drank all the beer, beheaded
the other six people in the room, and made out with the cleaning lady.
These Immortals really know how to party!
> Richie sat down in a large, comfortable chair. "Thanks. Aren't you
>going to sit?"
> "Sure. I'm just a little nervous. I'm sure you can imagine."
CROW: ...there's no heaven, I wonder if you caaaan...
> "No, actually, I can't. What are you doing here?"
> "I'm an Enterprise crew member."
> Richie nodded to the clearly visible tattoo on Michael's wrist.
MIKE: Hi, Tattoo.
TOM: Hi, Richie. De plane! De Plane!
CROW: Now it's a Fantasy Island/Highlander crossover!
>"You're a Watcher. Are you watching one of us?"
TOM: One of you what?
CROW: One of us two-dimensional characters.
TOM: Oh, yeah.
> "No. Well, yes, actually, I'm watching all of you. But that's not
>why I'm here. I didn't even know you were going to be here when I took
>this assignment. I just got lucky." Michael smiled, trying to ease the
>tension.
MIKE: The sexual tension.
CROW: No, Mike. This fanfic doesn't even have that.
MIKE: It doesn't?
CROW: Believe me, I'd know.
> Richie's gaze didn't falter. "So why are you leaving the planet? I
>thought you guys stayed close to your Immortals."
> "We do. I was taking some time off. I want to further my Starfleet
>career. Being a Watcher can get boring."
TOM: Watching a Watcher can be even more boring, as we can personally
testify.
> Richie could tell he was lying. "Come off it, Gunn.
CROW: Peter Gunn?
> I know your kind
>too well to fall for that crap. Remember, I've known about the Watchers
>for four hundred years. You guys don't get bored."
MIKE: You get even.
> "Well, believe it or not, Mr. Ryan, you Immortals aren't all your
>cracked up to be. All I got to look forward to was another beheading.
TOM: And maybe a commentary afterwards by Andy Rooney.
>After you've seen about a dozen, it gets old." Michael looked at the
>floor uneasily. "Why have you come here?"
MIKE: I'm selling magazine subscriptions.
> "I came because I saw your tattoo, and I wanted to know why you were
>here. We planned this trip at the last minute, there's no way you guys
>could have known about it."
CROW: Except through the Philip Michael Thomas Psychic Hotline!
> "The Watchers didn't find out you were going to be on board until a
>couple of hours before the ship left. If you check the crew log, you'll
>see I was assigned here a week ago."
> "But your watching us now, right?"
TOM: Riiiiiiiight?
> "Well, yes. I was contacted soon after we left."
MIKE: I had to accept a copy of the Watchtower to make them go away.
> "You were told to watch us. Are you going to follow us to Risa?"
> "Certainly not. My job is here, on the ship."
CROW: In fact, my official job title is Cannon Fodder First Class.
> "What do you do on this ship? You're an ensign, are you assigned to
>the bridge?"
> "Why would I tell you that? Whay do you want to know?"
TOM: Do you know the whay to San Jose?
> "Because you know so much about us, I figured I'd level the playing
>field."
MIKE: And build a bunch of condominiums.
> "Richie; may I call you Richie?"
> "Sure."
> "Good. Call me Michael.
CROW: Michael, this is Kitt.
> Richie, I don't know much about any of you.
TOM: Do you like long walks on the beach, mushing up your ice cream, singing
in the shower, that sort of thing?
>My job in the organization doesn't put me in contact with many
>Immortals. I'm more of an information courier." Michael regretted the
>statement, even before he finished it.
MIKE: He'd always wanted to be an information helvetica.
> "Information courier? Where do you bring the information? Have that
>many Immortals left the planet?" Richie remembered Duncan's questions.
CROW: Which had nothing to do with the ones he just asked, and everything to
do with belly dancing.
>"Or am I missing something here?"
MIKE: Is this a callback to that 'puny' statement a while ago?
TOM: Let's hope not.
> Michael swallowed hard. "Richie, we have information stockpiles on
>various outposts. We use them only for archive purposes-"
CROW: And the occasional coverup.
> "Listen, I want a straight yes or no answer. Are there Immortals from
>other planets?"
MIKE: Um... splunge?
> Richie leaned forward in his seat.
TOM: And heard a ripping sound from around the vicinity of the rear of his
jeans.
CROW (Richie): Damn, and I just bought these, too...
> Michael saw it was useless to lie to him. "Richie, I can't tell you."
> "I guess I have no choice, then." Richie got out of his seat.
MIKE: And into a dry martini.
> Michael stood up, alarmed. "What are you going to do?" he said in a
>frightened voice.
TOM: I'm going to sing you some of the world's best loved melodies!
MIKE & CROW: (gasping sounds)
> "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to come with me."
> "Where?"
CROW: Nowhere and everywhere.
> "To Duncan and Conner."
MIKE: To Duncan and Conner! (Mike holds up a glass).
TOM & CROW: (glass-clinking sounds)
> "What makes you think I'll tell them anything I haven't told you?"
> "It's not what you're going to tell them, it's what they're going
>to tell you."
CROW: About how you are powerful. About how you can sell.
>
>Part 24: Bridge
>
MIKE: Over the River Kwai.
> "Commander Riker, we're within sensor range of Corellias Five," said
>ensign Takar.
TOM: Is that a foreign Takar or a domestic?
> "Call up a visual, ensign."
> "Aye, sir."
CROW: Hey! That visual's $2.95 a minute!
> On the screen appeared Corellias Five, an M-class planet with a subtle
>purple hue to it's atmosphere. It's continents were bright green and
>orange, providing for a stunning visual effect.
MIKE: Our sensors indicate this is the tackiest planet we've ever visited.
TOM: It's the Halloween novelty planet!
> "It's beautiful," said Counselor Troi.
> "Yes. Ensign, scan the planet's offensive and defensive systems.
>Let's see how much of a threat this Kerr Doran can be."
CROW: Call up his credit records.
> Takar initiated the scan,
TOM: And taught it the secret Masonic handshake.
> and within seconds, it was complete. "I'm
>reading seventeen planetary defensive arrays, consisting of thirty
>disruptor banks,
MIKE: And a Savings & Loan run by George W. Bush, Jr.
> and five photon torpedo launchers each."
> "Can you get a fix on a power source?"
CROW: Got some D-cell batteries here, will that do?
> "No sir, not at this range."
> "Mr. Data, exactly how long until we reach the planet?"
> "One hour, eighteen minutes, sir."
TOM: If the lights go our way.
> "Ensign, can you detect any vessels in orbit? Any stellar defensive
>arrays?"
MIKE: Any GM trucks being driven by Dateline: NBC employees?
> "Yes, sir. It appears there are twenty-five ships in a fixed orbit
>around the planet. The ships appear to be mid-range light attack
>cruisers. I don't read any other defenses."
CROW: He must not have gotten to the Hooked on Phonics chapter on defense
systems.
> "These new sensors are amazing. In the Enterprise 'D' we would never
>have been able to get this much this far away," said Counselor Troi.
MIKE: How about letting the *readers* get something?
> "They've made a lot of enhancements. We could never have maintained
>this speed for this long on the old ship.
TOM: So you're saying it's really, really fast then, right?
CROW: Can you hook the engines up to the plot, maybe?
> Captain Picard emerged from the turbolift. "Report, number one."
> Riker filled Picard in on their status, and the defensive capabilities
>of Corellias Five.
MIKE: And his lifelong dream of being a Rockette.
> "Well, it appears Mr. Doran is planning to put up a fight.
CROW (wimp voice): He'll haaarm us!
> Let's hope
>we can change his mind.
> "Have there been any communications from the Lasco or the Xavier?"
> "They reported in about an hour ago. They're on yellow alert, and
>standing by."
TOM: They want to know if mushrooms and olives on the second pie are okay.
> "Excellent.
> "I'll be in my ready room."
MIKE: Reading my leatherbound classics edition of 'The Complete Works of
Robert E. McElwaine.'
>
>
>==================================================
>Mike Coelho 'There can be only one'
>cm...@ibm.net -+==========|----------------------
>--------------------------------------------------
CROW: So that's *IT*?
MIKE: Looks like it is.
TOM: But Mike! Nothing *happened* in this part! We've been waiting for it
for months, and absolutely nothing advanced!
MIKE: You'll just have to deal with the pain, I'm afraid...
(they exit the theater...)
[6...5...4...3...2...1.]
MIKE: Well, *that* was an exercise in futility.
TOM: You're telling me. Think they'll reach the planet by, oh, part ten?
CROW: I hope we don't have to find out.
[Deep 13]
FORRESTER: Unfortunately, there are no more parts to 'Princes of the
Universe' at present. But if ever there are... (starts chuckling
sinisterly.) Until next time, wonder-wimps.
[He presses the button. Closing credits.]
--
Mystery Science Theater 3000 and related characters and situations are
trademarks of and (c) 1995 by Best Brains Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Use of copyrighted or trademarked material is for entertainment purposes
only. No infringement on original copyrights or trademarks held by Best
Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred. This post is not meant
as a personal attack on Mike Coelho, nor should it be interpreted as
such. Society, in this case, is clearly to blame.
> The wreckage included materials NOT KNOWN on Earth, and some
> of it even had ALIEN SYMBOLS written on it.
--
Gary W. Olson sw...@sojourn1.sojourn.com sw...@drycas.club.cc.cmu.edu
http://www.sojourn.com/~swede