MST3Kd: "Highleaper part 3"
David G White
>Following is the third part of my current attempt at serious
>cross over fiction.
Crow: Wait, he's serious?
Tom: I'm scared, Joel.
> If cross over fan fiction can ever be
>tooo serious. For those who have never seen Highlander
>the TV series, you may be a bit cluless.
Joel: Those of you who have seen it are probably even more clueless.
> For that
>I appoligize. Hope you like it anyway.
Crow: You can appoligize all you want, we're still not going to like it.
Joel: Say, how does one appoligize anyway?
>Larry
>
>-----------------------------------------------
Tom: For the third time, no-one will be admitted during the exciting
hyphenation sequence.
>Lawrence E. Nagy
>1160 Boyer Rd
>Erie, PA 16511
Crow: You know, if we ever get down to Earth, I'm going to visit him.
Joel: To thank him for entertaining us with his witty stories?
Crow: No, to kill him.
>I have no doubt at all the Devil Grins,
>As seas of ink I splatter.
Joel: (gruff voice) Good job, Nagy! Keep spreading the bad word!
>Ye gods, forgive my "literary" sins-
Tom: Oh great, he thinks he's writing literature now.
>The other kind don't matter.
>-- Robert W. Service
>
>
>HIGHLEAPERby Lawrence E. Nagy
>
> part 3
Crow: Highleaper 3: The Destruction of Jared-Zyn.
> Al walked solemnly out of the chamber. He had just
>talked to Sam. To Al at least part of Sam was still
>alive.
Tom: But the part that counted was dead, dead, dead!
Joel: Geez, tom, there's no reason to be so grim.
> To the others who only knew of Sam through Al's
>reports Sam had just died.
Joel: Talk about garbled...
> Al turned directly to Gushie "Do we have anything on
>this Ian McShane yet."
Tom: Well, apparently he's dead.
> Gushie stood over one of Ziggie's monitors. His hair
>seemed even messier than normal and his thick glasses were
>croaked.
Crow: They were good glasses, and they lived a long life...
> "I don't know," he said "something is really
>screwy here.
> "Look," Gushie said pointing to the screen
Tom: That's filthy!
> "it just
>doesn't fit.
Tom: That's even filthier!
> Someone matching McShane's description and
>carrying his I.D. was found in a corn field out side of
>town, beheaded."
Joel: Gee, think it might've been him?
> Gushie looked up shaking his head.
>"McShane and his friend listed as a 'John Doe' originally
>died five days after the time Sam leaped in."
Crow: Yeah, your point?
> "That's not possible." Al said "McShane was almost
>dead when Sam leaped in. Perhaps someone moved the body."
Crow: Say hello to the folks, Bobby!
Joel: He doesn't mean that way, Crow.
> Gushie paged through more of Ziggie's report "No,
>we've even accessed the coroner's report.
Joel: Ooh, let me see.
> It lists the
>wounds on the body, none of which match those of our
>friend's."
> Al stood back shaking his head and patting down his
>neon green sport coat
Crow: Ugh, he's been taking fashion lessons from Dr. Forrester.
All: Aaagh!
> looking for a cigar. "This just
>doesn't make sense, have we run a background check on
>McShane yet?"
Joel: Apparently he's using his system's default background.
> "Yea," Gushie managed to frown and grin at the same
>time.
Tom: Ow, I bet that really hurts your face.
> "The only record we have of Ian McShane before he
>bought that Trans-Am is his birth certificate," Gushie
>paused for proper dramatic effect
Crow: Great, give a comedian a TV role and they think they're a real
actor.
Joel: Hey, watch it, boy.
> "and his death
>certificate at the age of two days."
Joel: Wow, he sure aged fast, then.
> Al threw up his hands,"and an alias to boot. How are
>we suppose to find out anything about this guy without any
>more to go on?"
Crow: Well, we could always ask him...Oops, sorry.
> From their position Al and Gushie could see the body
>laying neatly in the waiting room. It was positioned
>comfortably
Tom: How can a dead body be comfortable?
> on the couch with a sheet over it. Al thought
>he saw the sheet move.
> "Did you see that?" he asked Gushie.
Joel: I didn't see it if you didn't see it, sir.
> "See what?"
> "He moved." Al said nervously pointing his unlit cigar
>at the body of his friend.
> "Now, Sir, you know that's not possible." Gushie said
>trying to be soothing.
Crow: (aside) Call the looney bin! We've got a live one here!
> Suddenly Sam sat up clutching his abdomen and
>obviously trying to stifle a cry of pain. The blood
>stained sheet fell to the floor revealing
Tom: Legs that went all the way up!
Crow: (whistles)
Joel: You two are just really sick, do you know that?
> the remains of
Joel: The day?
>the shredded and bloody jump suit Sam was still wearing.
> Al rushed to the aid of the man who appeared to be his
>best friend. With the approach of Al and the others their
>guest suddenly had a wild and terrified look in his eyes.
Crow: You're not going to hunt me for sport, are you?
>He stood up holding onto the bunk for support. Doubled
>over clutching his stomach he was still able to look
>extremely menacing.
Crow: Stand back or I'll vomit on you! I'm not kidding!
> Al stopped short, holding his arms out keeping
>everyone else away too. "Relax," he said "we won't hurt
>you."
Tom: Much.
> Sam backed away a step then doubled over a little more
>as another surge of pain ripped through his body. The
>wild look in his eyes continued to keep everyone at bay.
> "My name is Al."
Crow: You killed my father. Prepare to die.
> Al said soothingly "can you remember
>your's?"
Crow: Geez, you don't have to be so patronizing!
> Sam suddenly forced himself straight and said proudly
>in a very thick Scottish brogue "I am Duncan McCloud of
>the clan McCloud."
Tom: Chief!
Crow: McCloud!
> He looked around the place then asked
>"What manner of magic brought me here?"
Joel: It's called quantum physics. Don't ask, we don't understand it
either.
> "That's kind of hard to explain." Al said "But we're
>not here to harm you."
Crow: Get the tazer! GET THE TAZER!
> Tina leaned over and whispered to Al "Look at his
>wounds, they're almost totally healed."
> Al continued to talk to Sam "Can you tell me the last
>thing you remember?"
Tom: It's hot, I think I'm still in the womb...oh, the LAST thing I
remember.
> Duncan leaned back against the wall holding his hand
>to his head. He appeared to be having a blackout. He
>slowly slid down the wall till he was in a squatting
>position.
Joel: Um, Mr. McCloud, we have bathrooms here...
Crow: And you talk about us being perverse.
> He leaned forward head in hands resting his
>elbows on his knees.
> He started speaking again this time with just a hint
>of an accent "There was a fight."
Joel: In Manilla. It was a regular...
Tom: I think we can all guess what you're going to say next, Joel.
> "Who was fighting?" Al asked.
Crow: Tyson and Douglas, I think.
> He had knelt down in
>front of their guest.
> "I was."
Tom: Was it on Pay-Per-View or did I just miss it?
> "And who else?"
> "Lancelot."
> "Why?"
Joel: There wouldn't have been much of a fight if we didn't.
> "He had gone after my friend Richie. Lancelot has
>become a coward, looking for the easy heads."
Tom: Well, if he's looking for easy heads, I know a great bar where all
g out, but some of them are real sluts.
> Duncan
>spoke as if he were in a dream.
Crow: Or a crossover.
> "So you fought him to protect your friend?"
> "I've lost too many friends lately."
Joel: He you checked the lost and found bin?
> Suddenly Duncan's head cleared "Richie, were's
>Richie."
> "Richie is okay." Al said.
> Duncan looked around "Where am I?" he demanded "Who
>are you people?"
Tom: Uhm...we represent the Lollipop Guild.
> "This is the waiting room, part of something we call
>Project Quantum Leap." Al said simply. Knowing full well
>that all leapees
Crow: Ew. What a disgusting made-up word.
> forgot what happened here. One of the
>better side effects of the swiss cheese memory syndrome
>caused by the process.
Tom: And much more pleasant than the silent-but-deadly bowel movements.
> "What am I doing here?"
Joel: Well, when a mommy loves a daddy very much...
> Duncan had stood up straight
>and proud. There was no obvious sign of the injuries of
>less than half an hour before.
Crow: But the wounds remain inside, hurting the heart.
> "A lot has happened." Al said "perhaps you'd like to
>get cleaned up. It appears we both have a lot to talk
>about." As he talked Al motioned to the gore that Duncan
>was the center of.
Joel: Oh my God, Mr. Vice President!
> The black Trans-Am pulled up to an old warehouse in a
>dilapidated part of the city. Drawing close to a garage
>door, Richie pushed a button on the visor opening the
>door.
All: WHAT?!?
Crow: I'm not even going to comment on the syntax in that last sentence.
> He backed into the building all the way onto a
>freight elevator.
> Richie turned and looked at Sam. "Well?"
> "Well, what?"
Tom: No fair, I asked you first.
> "When you drive you always make me close the elevator.
>I guess now its your turn."
> Sam was in no mood to argue anything. He sat for a
>second gathering his strength then got out of the car.
Joel: Whoah, that's tiring.
>Pulling the door shut he saw the out side door begin to
>close. Richie must have closed it from in the car.
> Sam got the door down then saw a switch simply marked
>'UP' and 'DOWN'.
Crow: I bet he has 'LEFT' and 'RIGHT' on his shoes too.
> It was already in the down position so
>he pulled it up hoping that this was the proper thing to
>do.
Joel: And a tasty way to do it.
> The elevator shook slightly then started up.
> The room on the second floor was made into a good size
>garage. An old black Thunderbird convertible sat near by.
>The car looked like it was recently parked. Other cars
>were pushed into corners, all covered with dirty old
>tarps.
Tom: You know, it's a miracle the floor hasn't collapsed with all the
weight that's on it...
> From their shapes, they looked like they
>represented every decade of the automobile. There was the
>classic box of the twenties and thirties, the round fat
>fenders of the forties and the shoe boxes of the fifties
>and sixties.
Crow: Ain't gonna go far in a shoe box, boy.
Joel: Well, they had wheels too.
Crow: Oh.
> Richie pulled the Trans-Am into the center of the
>garage and parked it. He then grabbed a long cowboy
>duster
Joel: What an interesting cleaning implement.
> style over coat and his sword with it's fancy gold
>hilt from the back seat. Sam decided he had better follow
>suit,
Crow: So he bid six of spades.
> so he retrieved the katana and his black trench
>coat.
> Sam followed Richie across the garage to the only
>obvious door.
Tom: What? He didn't check for secret/concealed doors with his 10' pole?
> This must be the exit Sam thought, perhaps
>stairs down to the street.
> The door opened into a spacious loft apartment.
Tom: Aren't loft apartments spacious by definition?
> Most
>of the room was filled with crates and boxes. At the far
>end was the living quarters. It was sparsely furnished
>with a couple of added rooms.
Crow: They added rooms to the second floor of a house. Right.
> The rooms looked like large
>wooden cubes set down in the middle of the warehouse.
> To one side of the living area was a well equipped
>work out area.
Joel: Right next to the well-equipped make-out area.
> This space included the standard mats,
>weight machines, punching bags and other things along
>those lines.
Joel: Such as the Deathclown 2000.
> There was also a large number of ancient
>weapons. Most notably swords. There were swords from
>cultures spanning the globe and history.
Tom: Even from cultures that didn't have swords!
> Richie headed right to one of the bedrooms, taking off
>his shredded sweater as he went. "Mac," Richie said from
>his room. "Can I ask you a question?"
Crow: You just did.
> "You can always ask." Sam responed as he carefully
>entered the other bed room.
Joel: I just might not be able to answer.
> Richie entered the room and stood just inside the
>doorway. Sam found a clean and folded black t-shirt to
>replace the shredded one he was wearing. "Why don't we
>start looking for the others?" Richie asked.
Crow: Because that would make sense.
> "Looking for whom?" Sam responed honestly.
> "You know what I mean, Mac." Richie said "You know
>what they say, the best defense is a good offense.
Tom: Who is 'they?' Mel, the cook from 'Alice?'
> Lance
>almost got both of us."
> "But he didn't get either of us." Sam interjected.
> "Yea but if it had been on our terms, it probably
>wouldn't have been so close."
Crow: So all I'm saying is next time we should get them to sign the
contract beforehand, is all.
> "I think you know how I feel about that."
Joel: Nice dodge.
> Sam guessed
>they had had this conversation before.
Tom: Did you ever have deja vu?
> "Listen, Mac" Richie pleaded "I know your trying to
>protect me and all but I think we have to be a little more
>agressive." Richie paused a bit choosing his words.
Crow: Geez, where's the thesaurus when you need it?
> "You
>may want to avoid the game, but we could at least do
>something more to protect our selves."
Tom: And maybe even us, too!
> "Such as?" Sam was totally confused what was this game
>the kid was suddenly talking about?
Crow: And where did the period from the last sentence go?
> "We could try to track the others. Find out whose
>close by.
Joel: Bring a bunt cake. You know, start a welcome wagon.
> In other word, you know, be a little more
>agressive in our defense."
> "We'll talk about it in the morning." Sam said
>glancing at the red numbers of the room's alarm clock.
>"3:21am means it is time to sleep for most people."
Joel: Except night watchmen.
> "You know I still don't feel the quikening from you
>anymore."
Tom: Delicious Nestle Quikening?
> Richie sounded intriged and concerned.
> "Perhaps you'll feel better with some rest." Sam
>replied. He hoped he would.
Crow: But knew that when he woke up in the morning his life would be just
as depressing as it always was.
> Sam had been doing this along time but it was still
>difficult to make himself at home in strange surroundings.
>After Richie retired
Crow: At 65? Man, this is one long leap.
> Sam wondered around his room trying
>to get to know his host a little better. The room was
>sparse, it had few very personal items such as family
>pictures, momentos
Tom: The Freshmaker!
> from childhood etc. The few personal
>looking things like pictures and fancy toiletries,
Joel: Oh yeah, you can always tell a lot about someone from his bathroom
supplies.
>brushes, shaving accessories and so on were all antiques.
>This man seemed to be living in the past.
Crow: But I thought you said he had very few family pictures, mementos,
etc?
> Sam looked at his reflection again. He looked to be
>in his early thirties, extremly good shape, everything Sam
>always figured women would surely swoon over.
Joel: Hmm...maybe I don't want to leap out.
> Why was he
>living with this kid in a warehouse in what had to be one
>of the worst neighbor hoods in the city?
Tom: The neighbor hoods in the neighbor hood.
> Something very
>weird was going on.
Crow: And, unless he missed his guess, Larry Nagy was involved somehow.
> Where was Al? Once again Sam was left clueless
>waiting for his partner.
Joel: He's clueless even when Al is there.
> "Well" he said to himself "I might as well get some
>rest while I'm waiting."
> Sam drifted away as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Tom: Wow, strong tide in that bed.
> to be continued..................
All: NOT!
Tom: Come on, let's get out of here.
1...2...3...4...5...6...G
(the inside of the S.O.L. Crow and Tom are wrapping up a package)
Joel: Now what are you two rascals doing?
Tom: Well, we gathered up all the spare radioactive material around the
ship and we made a small nuclear bomb.
Joel: WHAT?
Crow: Yeah, and we're going to mail it to Larry because he was stupid
enough to leave his address.
Joel: Now, now, don't you two think you're being a bit negative?
Tom: NO! Think about it, Joel! This fanfic had a horrible concept,
horrible grammar, and horrible execution! Nagy deserves what he gets.
Joel: Oh, you're just thinking about it all wrong. I'll tell you what: If
you name one good thing about the fanfic I'll give you a ramchip.
Tom: Never!
Crow: Uh, well...it was never finished.
Joel: Good one! (gives crow a ramchip)
Tom: What? Why did you do that, Crow?
Crow: I'm sorry, Tom...He enticed me.
Tom: Traitor.
Joel: What do you think, sirs?
(cut back to Deep 13)
Dr. F: (voice from out of shot) Push the button, Frank!
Frank: Goo-goo da ga ga.
Dr. F: (walking into the shot) Push the button!
Frank: Da ga me da-da.
Dr. F: (pushing the button) If you want something done right, you've got
to do it yourself. (sniffs) What's that smell?
(roll credits)
Dr. F: (voice-over) Eww, Frank! Why didn't you say something.
Frank: (voice-over) Ga.
------
Credits:
MSTified by David White
Disclaimer: MST3K and related characters/settings/situations are the
property of BBI, however they had nothing to do with writing this up.
This mystification was done for the express purpose of entertainment,
and is not meant as a personal attack on the original author(s) in any
way.
------
Lawrence E. Nagy:
> First Sam felt the tingling of a leap, his world
> turned into the usual blue light then something went
> wrong, terribly wrong. Pain shot through his body. It
> felt like an electrical shock strong enough to lift him
> off the ground. Blackness around him lit up with flashes
> of a blue-white lightning and sparks fell from above.