MSTed: Sonic the Hedgehog--"Altered Destiny" [ 4 / 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).

Joseph Nebus
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ ALL settle back in ]

>
>* * * * *
>
> The next morning, the entire village was gathered to
>the eastern border of the town.

CROW: Which was about twenty feet from the western border of town.

> Apparently, there were some
>strange sounds floating over the treetops. It was faint at
>first, but gradually grew louder. It sounded like music!

TOM: Would somebody get the Beatles off the roof, *please*?

>When she heard the voice, Sally's heart leaped to her
>throat. It couldn't be! But the singing continued.

JOEL: "Somebody want to turn the human down?"

>
>And the road becomes my bride.
>I have stripped of all but pride,
>So in her I do confide,
>And she keeps me satisfied.

CROW: This isn't a very good "Underdog" episode.

>Gives me all I need.
>And with dust in throat I crave.

TOM: Oh, and give me a dollar, too.

>Only knowledge will I save.
>To the game you stay a slave.
>Rover Wanderer
>Nomad Vagabond

JOEL: These were early concepts for naming Star Trek: Voyager.

>Call me what you will, yeah.

CROW: Hey, thanks, "Binky."

>
>But I'll take my time anywhere.
>Free to speak my mind anywhere.

TOM: See, the Internet has trained people to think of free speech
as a blunt instrument.

>And I'll redefine anywhere,
>Anywhere I roam,
>Where I lay my head is home, yeah.

JOEL: Well, also where I keep my aspirin collection too.

>
>And the earth becomes my throne.
>I adapt to the unknown.
>Under wandering stars I've grown.
>By myself but not alone,

CROW: I think this is the theme song to some Japanese animation.
TOM: I think this is the theme song to *all* Japanese animation.

>I ask no one.
>And my ties are severed clean.
>Less I have, the more I gain.

JOEL: [ Theme of "Valerie/Valerie's Family/The Hogan Family" ] In
the heart of every family...there's a love that starts by
letting go...

>Off the beaten path I reign.
>Rover Wanderer
>Nomad Vagabond
>Call me what you will

TOM: Biff "Buffington" Biffwell.

>
>But I'll take my time anywhere.

JOEL: "Other people need to use the facilities, you know."

>Free to speak my mind anywhere.
>And I'll never mind anywhere.

CROW: [ Theme to "Cheers" ] "You want to go where everybody knows
your name..."

>Any where I roam.
>Where I lay my head is home.
>
> As the music seemed to reach it's peak,

TOM: A sudden avalanche buried the team and made them cancel
their ascent.

> a figure could
>be seen trotting out of the mists.

CROW: Yet strangely he wasn't, because everyone was fascinated by
the earthworms that came up after the last rain.

> His attitude was of one
>who had suffered great pain, but has found shelter and
>safety. He stopped, reared back his head, and continued
>singing.

JOEL: It's always so wacky when Waylon Jennings himself gets involved
in a "Dukes of Hazzard" script.

>
>But I'll take my time anywhere.
>Free to speak my mind any where.
>And I'll redefine anywhere.

CROW: From now on, "anywhere" will mean "Camden, New Jersey."
TOM: How horrifying.

>Anywhere I roam,
>Where I lay my head is home.
>Carved upon my stone,
>My body lie, but still I roam, yeah, yeah.

TOM: [ Singing to "Brady Bunch" theme ] "And that's the way we
became The Brady Bunch!"

>
> The figure stepped completely out of the fog, and the
>villagers gasped at what they saw.

CROW: X-Y-Z...
TOM: Your fly...
JOEL: C'mon, you're just embarassing yourself.

> A male raccoon, in his
>late teens, and wearing clothes they'd only previously seen
>on a certain human, stood before them, grinning like a
>maniac.

TOM: When'd Tom Bodett become a raccoon?

> He stepped back, and gave a deep bow to Sally.

CROW: Sally instinctively picked him up by the scruff of his neck
and carried him back into the tree.

>"Hello, Princess. I, Christopher Jonathan Petrucci, wish to
>thank you on behalf of Keith Aksland, who, he said, had
>stayed with you for a brief period."

JOEL: "Aw, it was nothing. Who's Keith?"

> He looked at Rebecca.
>"You like?" he said, turning this way and that. Rebecca
>nodded, smiling through tears. "I like. Oh, do I ever
>like!" With that, she dashed into his arms.

CROW: "My four and a half hours of estrus next year are going to be
extra-special!"
JOEL: Behave yourself.

>
> Sally was still speechless. The voice, and the
>attitude... it had to be him!

JOEL: [ Pointing to TOM ] It couldn't be you; [ Pointing to CROW ]
It couldn't be you; [ Pointing to KEITH ] It had to be him!

> "Keith, is that you?!" The
>coon shook his head. "I told you, Sally, Keith is dead.
>Well, kind of.

TOM: Well, okay, he's alive and living in Portland, Maine. There,
I said it and I'm glad.

> Anyway, can we get back home, please? I'm
>tired, and looking for a real bed to sleep in.

JOEL: At least a knot in a tree, or a limestone cavern.

> He trotted
>back in the general direction of Rebecca's hut, still
>humming bars from the odd song he'd just finished singing.

CROW: Oh, great, he's a Neil Diamond fan.

>
>* * * * *
>
> That night, Chris and Rebecca were sitting on the same
>rock by Starlight Pond, side by side, gazing at the crystal
>waters.

TOM: Talk about hard water.

> Chris was the first to break the silence. "I'm
>sorry I scared you all like that. Especially you, Becky."

CROW: Aw, we didn't think about you at all, silly.

>
> "Just what were you doing in your room, anyway? What
>was up with all that singing?" Keith sighed.

TOM: Again, he's at the age where that sort of thing will happen.

> "Have you
>ever felt something really deeply, but had no way to put it
>into words?" Rebecca nodded. "Well, that's what the songs
>were for.

JOEL: He couldn't think of words, so he composed a whole bunch
of words and made them match up in meter and rhyme with
songs.

> I had to get my pain out into the open, and,
>well, I guess I just lost myself. It really helped me deal
>with my problems, though, so it wasn't all bad."

CROW: He understands the quadratic formula now.

> They were
>silent for some time, and suddenly Rebecca hugged him tight.
>"Just promise you'll never leave me."

JOEL: This story is just dozens of epilogues leaning against
each other.

> Chris hugged her
>back, just as tightly. "I promise. I'll never leave your
>side until the end of time." Rebecca looked into his eyes.

TOM: Ding ding ding ding ding! We *have* deadmeat!

>"I love you, Chris. More than anything else on Mobius, I
>love you."

JOEL: "Course, I hate Mobius."

>
> "And I love you, Rebecca. Thank you for showing me
>what love truly is."

CROW: In the scenes we didn't get to see.

> They spent the rest of the night that
>way, locked in a loving embrace, gazing at the twin moons of
>Mobius.

TOM: You know, it looks like there's two moons, but actually
it's just the 'inside' and 'outside' of the same moon.

>
>* * * * *
>
> The people of Knothole found it much easier to accept
>Keith (sorry, Chris :)

CROW: Sorry, Pete.
JOEL: Sorry, Ed.
TOM: Sorry, Stu.
CROW: Sorry, Alan.
TOM: Sorry, Gene.
JOEL: Sorry, Wally.

> now that he didn't constantly remind
>them of how much humans had done to them. In fact, they
>started to like him.

TOM: Well, they liked his collection of Milk-Bones, anyway.

> He had become a thorn in Robotnik's
>ample side more times then he could count.

CROW: Four times?

> But the real
>test of his mettle came during the funeral.
>
> He had placed everything he had owned in his former
>life in a small box,

JOEL: Yeah, what does he need with underwear anyway?

> wrapped it in the shirt he had worn,
>and carried it to the chosen gravesite. It was right next
>to Queen Acorn's grave.

ALL: [ Snicker ]
CROW: So, like, would Queen Acorn's royal theater company be a
group of 'Acornion Players'?

> "Now you've got someone to talk to,
>Mother," Sally said, tears in her eyes, as she laid the box
>down.

TOM: A dull person who isn't really dead, but still someone.

> Into the scene walked Chris, wrapped in a voluminous
>black cloak. As he unfolded his hands from beneath it, all
>could see

TOM: He was flashing them.

> the bakhat he had around his waist, the Mobian
>sign for mourning. He looked around.
>
> "I know it's your custom to sing a Mobian ballad at
>your funerals,

CROW: They tried singing Hopi Indian ballads, but somehow that
never caught on at the planet Mobius.

> but none seemed right, none could tell this
>boy's story so well as these next two songs can.

JOEL: The haunting theme from "One Day at a Time," followed by a
Diet Coke jingle from 1986.

> One is a
>look into his heart, the next are his last words."

TOM: Ah-hem. "Nah, if the cliff wasn't stable they would put up
a siiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII...."

> He
>looked down at his computer. "Sasha, please play 'Lifting
>Shadows off a Dream,' minus the vocals."
>
> The bass line came first, the sound of water dripping
>into a small pool.

JOEL: Oh, great, now the whole village is going to feel like
going to the bathroom.

> A few notes plucked out on a guitar told
>of a wind blowing across the scene, and the synthesizer
>wrapped the whole thing together with a beauty that brought
>tears to the eyes of the hardiest souls.

CROW: Aw, lookie, Ted Koppel is sobbing.

> After a few
>measures, Chris closed his eyes and began to sing.
>
>He seems alone and tired,

JOEL: But he has a rich private life.

>Thoughts remain without an answer.
>Afraid and uninvited,
>He slowly drifts away.

TOM: You're sure you dropped anchor, right?
CROW: Positive!

>Moved by desire and fear,
>Breaking delicate wings.

JOEL: [ As a mother ] Are you kids breaking delicate wings down
there?
CROW, TOM: No, Mom!

>
>Lifting shadows
>Off a dream once broken,
>She can turn a drop of water
>Into an ocean

CROW: She just will not let stuff drop. Always builds it into
bigger and bigger stuff.

>
> The music continued, slow and sorrowful, but then it
>hardened and became the sounds of unbearable heartbreak.

CROW: Crack!
JOEL: [ As a mother ] Now are you kids breaking unbearable hearts?
CROW, TOM: No, Mom!

>
>As the rain is pouring down,
>Tears of sorrow wash his mind.
>Drifting with the current,
>The stream of life flows on.

TOM: Daylight come an' me wan' go home.

>He seems alone and tired,
>Waiting on his hands and knees,
>The chill of winter's darkness,
>Sits quietly.

CROW: In a land called Honalee!

>
>Moved by desire and fear,
>He takes a few steps away.
>
>Lifting shadows off a dream
>Once broken.

JOEL: [ As a mother ] Now are you two breaking shadows again?
CROW, TOM: No, Mom! No!
JOEL: We just can't have good dream here, can we?

>She can turn a drop of water
>Into an ocean.

JOEL: She can turn meat loaf and vegetables into a startlingly
good casserole.

>And she listens openly
>
> Now the music, though still a bit heavy, told of
>comfort, solace. The music seemed to carry Chris' mind to
>the farthest corners of his imagination, where he actually
>experienced it as if the music was a living, breathing
>thing.

JOEL: Meanwhile, Bookshire gets the syringe ready again.

>
>He pours his soul into the water,
>Reflecting the mystery.
>She carries him away,

TOM: She has to do everything. He is *so* lazy.

>And the winds die slowly.
>
>Lifting shadows off a dream once broken,
>She can turn a drop of water
>Into an ocean.

TOM: Yet even she cannot tell a cabbage from a lettuce.

>
> He suddenly reared his head back, singing at the top of
>his voice.
>
>Lifting shadows off a dream,
>Lifting shadows off a dream.

JOEL: [ As Sally ] Nudge the human, he's stuck again.

>
> He lowered his head again, and let the music swirl to a
>halt. When it was done, he looked up, and saw that most of
>the attendees were crying, or ready to.

TOM: Please, stop!
CROW: Sob! We're music lovers here!

> "Now, for the
>goodbye note.

CROW: Goodbye...........
JOEL: Goodbye.......
TOM: Goodbye...
ALL: Goodbye!

> You'll have to ask Antoine for a translation
>of the chorus. It's called 'A Tout le Monde.' Sasha?"

TOM: It means "A toot of the mound."

>
>Don't remember where I was,
>I realized life was a game.
>The more seriously I took things,
>The harder the rules became.

JOEL: Yeah, "Civilization II" is a challenge.

>I had no idea what it cost,
>My life passed before my eyes.

CROW: And it turns out I spent my life thinking about video games.

>I found out how little I accomplished,
>All my plans denied.
>
> Suddenly, the mood went from a slow requiem to a hard,
>throbbing, pulse-metal sound. Chris' face twisted in
>uncontrolled pain and rage.

TOM: Shouldn't have turned the volume up past seven.

>
>So as you read this, know, my friends,
>I'd love to stay with you all,

JOEL: But I've got to be in Utica by eight p.m. tonight.

>Smile when you think of me,
>My body's gone, that's all.

CROW: And what do you need a body for, really?

>
>A tout le monde,
>A tout les amis,

TOM: The new Visit Quebec advertisements are chugging along nicely.

>Je vous aime,
>Je dois partir.

CROW: Tish!
JOEL: Gomez!

>
>These are the last words I'll ever speak.
>And they'll set me free.

TOM: So is the story over?

>
>If my heart were still alive,
>I know it would surely break.
>And the memories left with you,
>There's nothing more to say.

JOEL: So, uh, goodnight.

>Moving on, is a simple thing.
>What it leaves behind is hard.

CROW: This little greasy residue in the sink. It's gross.

>You kow the sleeping feel no more pain,
>And the living, are scarred.
>
>A tout le monde,

JOEL: D'Avignon! L'on y danse, L'on y danse.

>A tout les amis,
>Je vous aime,
>Je dois partir.
>
>These are the last words I'll ever speak,

TOM: Again.

>And they'll set me free.
>
> The next line of chords, though still grating, were set
>in a way that gave some small amount of comfort to the
>heartbroken masses. Then, it spiraled down into the requiem
>it began as, and died out.

CROW: Uhm...Chris, I'm sorry, the microphone wasn't on, could you
do that again?

>
> Tears were streaming from his eyes as Chris walked over
>to the grave,

JOEL: See, Bugs has tricked Elmer Fudd into climbing down in there.

> threw his handful of dirt on, and walked into
>the hut.

CROW: Bonk!

>
> Rotor went over to Antoine, who had tears in his eyes.

TOM: And eyes in his tears, strangely enough.

>"What was that part in the chorus, Ant?"
>
> Antoine, turned and stared at his walrus friend.

JOEL: Hey, you know the eggman?

> "Zat,
>my friend, is zee saddest sing I have evair heard.

CROW: [ Snicker ]
JOEL: [ Giggles ] Some writers just shouldn't try dialects.
TOM: [ As Antoine ] "Of course I'm violently allergic to music."

> He said,
>'To evaireebody, to all my friends, I love you, I have to
>leave.'" Antoine suddenly broke down crying.

CROW: Massive wimp theater.

>
> "Man, Sal, I've never seen anyone so broken up over a
>funeral before.

TOM: But then I have no emotional life of my own.

> Not even you were that bad when..." Sonic
>trailed off as the emotions became too much for even him to
>bear.

CROW: Emote emote emote emote emote.
JOEL: Stop, it's too much to bear.

> Sally put a hand on his shoulder. "I can understand,
>Sonic. I mean, my mother was dear to me,

TOM: In both of the conversations we ever had.

> and I miss her
>very much. But what do you think it feels like to attend
>your own funeral?"

CROW: That'd be kind of cool, actually.

>
>Chapter 7: The Power of Love

TOM: He's only got a 30 Watt love.

>
> When the ten days of mourning were over,

CROW: That's eight days more than 'Keith' spent with them.

> Chris and
>Rebecca planned a little picnic, just the two of them.

TOM: Plus their intestinal parasites.

>They'd gathered a few things together, and walked out into
>the forest, looking for a suitable spot.

JOEL: Okay, you distract the Boy Scouts and I'll grab their
backpacks.

> During their walk,
>they were chatting about a lot of things.

TOM: "Well, my tastes are kind of eclectic."
CROW: "Hey, cool, I collect stuff too."

>
> "So, Chris, just what is your definition of love?"

JOEL: They went into the forest for marriage counseling?

>
> Rebecca could tell by the way he stammered and thought
>that he hadn't really been able to think about it.

TOM: Even though he had devoted large sectors of his super-brain
to the puzzle.
CROW: Hah! Another one!
TOM: Stop that!

> "Ummmm,
>well, I guess my definition of love is... [ bleep ], I had it
>just a second ago... uhhh...

JOEL: Twelve!
CROW: Abraham Lincoln!
TOM: "Tess Of The D'Ubervilles!"

> Geez, Becky, why're you asking
>me this? Okay, I guess that when I'm in love, I'm happy
>just being near a person, sharing my life with them.

CROW: [ Leaning against JOEL ] Ah, love.
JOEL: [ Putting his arm around CROW ] Yeah.

> For
>me, there is no greater happiness than being able to open
>your heart to someone."

TOM: [ Leaning against JOEL ] This is so sweet.
JOEL: [ Putting his arm around TOM ] It is, it is.

>
> "And is this what you feel for me?" Rebecca took his
>hand in hers.

CROW: Actually, I just want to learn that trick where you catch
fish without even looking in the water.

>
> Chris looked into her eyes, and smiled. "All that and
>more, my dear.

ALL: [ Sigh contentedly ]

> You have no idea how much simply being
>around you affects me."

TOM: You almost make me forget my exile to this refugee from the
Saturday Supercade.

> She kissed him quickly.

CROW: Joel, kiss me.
JOEL: No.
TOM: Or me?
JOEL: Not you either.
[ CROW, TOM pull away ]
CROW: Well, you're a wet blanket.
TOM: Yeah. And your breath stinks.
JOEL: Sor-ry.

> "Glad to
>hear it. This looks like a good spot." They laid out the
>blanket, set out the food, and began to eat.

JOEL: Mmm, pass the termites, please?
CROW: Not 'till you give me the black ants.
TOM: Hey, I've been gnawing on tree bark for ten minutes here!

> They were
>still chatting about things when Chris heard a sound off in
>the distance.

CROW: Okay, be quiet and maybe the subplot won't notice us.

> It sounded like a brach snapping.

TOM: Brach goes wild, attackes Space Ghost and Zorak, then stops
suddenly when they threaten to noogie him.

> Straining
>harder, he could hear the thump of metallic feet. Rebecca
>noticed his sudden distraction.

JOEL: With sharp senses like that, you have to wonder why Rebecca
wasn't in the elite core of the Freedom Fighters.

> "Chris? What's..." She
>was silenced by a finger on her lips.

TOM: Aw, they're just adorable when they're being ambushed.

> "I think I heard
>SWATbots," he hissed into her ear, "I'm'a go check it out."

CROW: He's speaking Hawaiian now?

>He'd started to get up, when a hand clasped his arm. "Not
>without me, you're not." He nodded. "Fine. Let's go."

JOEL: This way they have a much better chance of both being
captured and executed.

>
> They'd crept through the underbrush for a while now,
>trying to see just what was going on.

TOM: Admit it! We're lost!
CROW: We are not! We just have to get back on the Interstate.

> Chris parted a bush,
>and saw. A SWAT patrol was marching through the forest,
>looking for Knothole.

TOM: Oooh...
CROW: Aaaah...
JOEL: Shinies!

> Problem was, they were just about to
>find it. They couldn't have been more than 50 meters from
>the village.

CROW: Fortunately, they were all so drunk they couldn't find
their hands.

> "How many?" Rebecca looked nervous. Chris
>scratched "20" in the dirt with his tail.

JOEL: And if the Mobians used Arabic numerals, that would answer
her question.

> They moved back
>to get their bearings. "Chris, what are we going to do?"
>
> "I don't know, Becky. I can contact Nicole, and have
>her tell Sally what's going on. P'raps Sonic'll get here in
>time."

TOM: See, he's the fastest thing alive, but only for the first
49 meters.

>
> "And if not?" Chris looked back at his love.

CROW: Then we'd have to do something.

> "Pray
>that he does. Meantime, we'll have to try to distract them
>before they stumble onto Knothole."
>
> "Like what?" "Dunno. But we don't have time to
>discuss it."

JOEL: Planning a guerilla action just slows you down.

> It would have been nice if they'd paid more
>attention to where they were, 'cause they found themselves
>faces-to-face with the business end of a stun blaster.

CROW: Oh oh oh ooh, pootertoots.

>Chris and 'Becca both let out a small, surprised "eep"
>before they were hauled to their feet, and off them. The
>SWAT droned its find to HQ.

TOM: "The Freedom Fighters have mixed Dr. Pepper and Mountain
Dew in one new beverage."

> "SWAT PATROL GAMMA-OMEGA-7 HAS
>CAPTURED TWO UNIDENTIFIED FREEDOM FIGHTERS. REQUEST ORDERS."

JOEL: "Bring them to a critically important place and leave them
unguarded until the end of the chapter."

>A high-pitched, nasal voice whined, "Take two of your patrol
>and have them brought back to me. The rest of you, continue
>your mission."

CROW: But their mission to nudge the plot in some random direction
*is* done.

> "CONFIRMED." As they were shoved onto the
>transport,

JOEL: Hiya, Threepio!
TOM: Hello, Chris.
JOEL: Heya, Artoo!
CROW: Bwee-urp!

> Chris secretly flipped on the mental
>communication node, and ordered Sasha to contact NICOLE and
>tell Sally what had transpired.

TOM: Following this brief mental contact he was shocked to find
himself lusting for the Gemini-Titan launch vehicle.

>
>* * * * *
>
> Sally was just about to go on her walk when NICOLE
>beeped.

JOEL: You've got mail!

> "Message, Sally." She pressed a button, and heard
>Sasha's voice. "SALLY, CHRIS AND REBECCA HAVE BEEN CAPTURED
>AND TAKEN TO ROBOTROPOLIS.

TOM: [ As Sally ] YES!

> DON'T WORRY ABOUT THEM FOR NOW,
>AS YOU SEEM TO HAVE AN ENTIRE PATROL ABOUT 5KM AWAY FROM
>KNOTHOLE. THIS SITUATION SHOULD BE DEALT WITH FIRST.

CROW: So, they're not that near, and they're going away, and
this is a priority?

> SASHA
>OUT." Sally gasped as she realized the implications of what
>Sasha had said.

TOM: We got rid of both of them! Yay!
JOEL: Don't be mean.

> "Sonic, get everyone out of here, now.
>Take them to the shelter in the Great Jungle.

CROW: Yeah, that'll keep them safe indefinitely.

> We have a
>serious problem."
>
>* * * * *
>
> "So, now, what do we have here?" Chris and Rebecca
>were locked in a cell in Robotropolis, and Snively was
>pacing outside, leering.

JOEL: Careful, Snively, you've captured the protagonist-slash-
author.

> "Mind telling me who you two are,
>hmmm?"
>
> Chris gave Snively

TOM: An affectionate noogie.

> an evil smile that could have
>matched Robotnik. "Come here, and I'll tell you." Snively
>bent forward.

JOEL: You know, I'd say the writer was making the villains
particularly dumb, but this isn't out of character for
Snively, is it?

> Chris hissed in his ear. "If you enjoy the
>feeling of a beating heart,

TOM: Beating hearts are the hot trend this spring.

> don't move until I am a bad
>memory." Snively practically screamed as he remembered
>where he had last heard that voice. "YOU!!! You're the
>human!"

CROW: You'd think his height and the large computer growing out
of his arm would have been clues.

> He dashed off down the hall, calling for Robotnik.

JOEL: Mommy!
CROW: Mommy mommy mommy!
TOM: Waaaah!

>
>* * * * *
>
> "Well, now, it seems you gave my assistant quite a
>scare.

CROW: Of course, the villains on "My Little Pony" give
him a bigger scare.

> So, you are the mysterious human who dared to aid
>the Freedom Fighters."
>
> "Sorry, fat-[ bleep ], you got me pegged wrong. The human
>died in the Forest a couple months ago. Real nasty, too.

TOM: He started chewing on a power line and...

>I'm just the part of him who still has business on this
>planet."
>
> Robotnik leaned back in his chair, steepling his
>fingers and putting them against his chins. "So you say."

JOEL: He would, wouldn't he?

>He gestured towards Sasha. "That's a pretty piece of
>hardware, boy. Mind telling me where you got that?"

CROW: The Tamagotchi fad extends to parallel universes.

>
> "Matter of fact, I do mind. In fact, now that I think
>about it, I don't like this place much. I KNOW I'm tired of
>looking at you and trying to figure out just how many chins
>you have.

JOEL: Aw, why don't you two stop teasing and kiss already?

> Y'r needle-nosed buddy over there's not very
>scintillating conversation, either." He stuffed his hands
>in his pockets.

CROW: Now who wants a tic-tac?

> "Now, chummer, way I see it, you got two
>options. One, you let Rebecca and I go, and we walk back to
>Knothole, without you following us."

TOM: Two, we form a lacrosse team.

>
> "Now, you know I can't do that. So, what's the other
>option?"

JOEL: For an agent of pure evil he's certainly being considerate
about all this.

>
> "I detonate this." Sasha flashes a data display on
>hologram.

CROW: That clears everything up.

> "This is my own little piece of programming,
>something that I set into your computer when I first got
>here.

TOM: It's called "Spaceward Ho!" and it's really cool.

> I call it a Data Nuke. Ever throw a stick of
>dynamite into a pool of water when you were a kid?" He saw
>by Robotnik's sudden pale complexion that he had.

JOEL: Just 'cause he's evil doesn't mean he's not bashful.

> "That's
>what'll happen to alla files in your Roboticizer.

CROW: They'll be attacked by a metaphor.

> Oh, and
>it's called a nuke 'cause it'll spread worm viruses through
>your computer like it was the common cold. Now, what's your
>say?"

TOM: Doesn't that make it more of a Data Sneeze, then?

>
> "I say you're bluffing. You didn't add anything into
>my core. No one can type that fast."

JOEL: Robotnik's clearly never seen people on a MUD.

>
> "Who says I typed? Thanks to my little bud here, I can
>jack directly into your net.

CROW: Is this supposed to be tied to the "Death Egg" again?

> Gloomy place, too, I might
>add.

TOM: I spruced up some of the web page backgrounds, but *still*...

> Anyway, I could set it off if you'd like to prove I'm
>not lying.

CROW: Thereby destroying any reason Robotnik might have to not
shoot Chris.

> Oh, yeah and don't delete it, 'cause if it
>detects any attempt to screw with it's code, it'll go off.

JOEL: It's really touchy.

>Now, can I go?"
>
> "I see you've given me no choice.

TOM: Seeing as how you never outlined a second course of action
for me.

> You two may go.

CROW: But I'm not validating your parking. So there!

>But, be warned, this is the last time I'll ever let you off
>this easily." Ivo was turning an interesting shade of
>purple.

JOEL: Another strange interlude...

>
> Chris smirked. "Who says I will, too? You've just
>used up your credit, mi amigo.

TOM: Chris, honey, don't push. You're just going to make trouble
when you're almost out of this story.

> Next time I see you, you'll
>be begging to be put into Sally's hands, 'cause I ain't
>gonna be as forgiving as they will. Ta!"

JOEL: Let's do lunch sometime. Have your computer call my
computer.

>
> As he walked down to the prison compound to collect
>Rebecca, he felt a faint twinge in the back of his mind.

CROW: Des? That you?

> It
>wasn't much, but it was enough to tell that something was
>not right.

TOM: He was used to these sudden flashes of insight, since
he was the author.

> He dashed to their cell as fast as he could.
>When he got there, all he could do was stare.

JOEL: They redecorated!

> There was
>Rebecca, lying on the floor, bruised, beaten, bloody, but,
>mercifully, unconscious.

CROW: She *had* to try to cross the highway and look what happened.

> He screamed. "NOOOOOOOO!!!! WHAT
>DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU BASTARD?!?!" He knelt, and picked
>her body up.

TOM: "Oh, hi, Chris, hey, I found this neat makeup kit to fake
all sorts of injuries, want to play too?"

> Slamming down the intercom button, he growled.
>"I'm leaving now, but, so help me, you will pay for this.

JOEL: Normally Worker's Comp would pick up the cost but they were
technically off-duty when they got captured.

>You will pay dearly. I promise this with all my heart and
>soul."

CROW: My acorn will crush yours!

> He turned, and ran out of Robotropolis.
>
> He was met halfway by Sonic and Sally.

TOM: These two are really effective heroes, aren't they?

> They saw who he
>had in his arms, looked at his face, and guessed the rest.
>He was crying his eyes out. "G-g-et her <huck> back, quick.

JOEL: She's not complete without her huck.

>Sh-sh-she <sob> needs help... h-hu-hurry, please." Sonic
>took Rebecca in his arms,

CROW: Gave her some aluminum foil to cheer her up...

> and dashed out of sight, with
>everyone else in tow.

TOM: So, they were in sight, still.

>
>* * * * *
>
> "Well, Chris, she's been beaten pretty badly.

CROW: Thanks for the bulletin, Hawkeye.

> She's
>weak from loss of blood, and has sustained a major
>concussion. But I think she'll live.

JOEL: But keep in mind my specialty is light carpentry, not
traumatic injuries.

> Still, we'll just
>have to trust to time to take care of that."

TOM: Since we never discovered medicine on this planet.

> Bookshire laid
>a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I think you need some
>rest. Go on back home, and let me handle this.

CROW: I have ages of experience in licking wounds.

>
> Chris pulled back. "No. I told her I'd never leave
>her side, and I mean to keep that promise.

TOM: Uhm...except for bathroom breaks.

> I'll watch over
>her until she gets better. She will recover, Doc. She has
>to.

JOEL: She's a major character.

> She's got too much life to..." He broke down and began
>to cry. "Hold on, Becky, please hold on."

CROW: "We promised someday we were going to have a conversation
where you said more than three sentences."

> He pulled up a
>chair, and began his vigil, tears still streaming from his
>eyes.

JOEL: Come on down to Hospice 6; and we'll leave the lights on
for you.

>
>* * * * *
>
> A week had passed.

TOM: Yeah, story felt about that long.

> Rebecca still showed no signs of
>progress. Chris, as he promised, didn't leave her side fro
>the entire week.

CROW: Leaving unattended his critical duties like...uh...

> In fact, he was beginning to look
>something like the haggard horror Sally had talked to before
>his transformation. But he didn't care.

JOEL: He was a rebel without the paws.

> All that mattered
>was her. He'd talk to her sometimes, telling her stories
>from his world.

TOM: "There was the time I had this weird dream-conversation and
ended up in the Pac-Man cartoon...and the time I ended up in
the Q*Bert cartoon...and the time I ended up in Bucky O'Hare..."

> Other times, he'd sing to her. One song in
>particular lingered in Bookshire's mind.

CROW: Tragically, it was "MacArthur Park."

> Chris'd called it
>"My Little Man."

JOEL: Another musical number?
TOM: Great, it's become "West Mobius Story."

>
>Don't you know I love you more than life itself,

JOEL: Or even life with chocolate sauce on top.

>Don't you know that you're my pride,
>And I would not have you walking through thits earth,
>Without me by your side,

TOM: But they're not on Earth.

>
>Go to sleep, my little man.
>Don't you weep, my little man.

CROW: Chris does know that Rebecca's a woman, right?
JOEL: Yeah, he just liked the song is all.
CROW: Oh.

>
>I'd like to keep you with me all your life,
>But I know I can't do that.

TOM: Not since you got that writ from the court.

>So I must try teaching you the wrong from right,
>To keep the vultures from your back.

CROW: The secret is, have somebody else a lot worse off near you.

>
>Go to sleep, my little man,
>Don't you weep, my little man.

JOEL: Never peep, my little man.

>
>And when you're dreaming,
>You can talk to angels,

TOM: But make sure you ask mommy or daddy first before talking
to strange angels.

>So wipe the tears from your eyes.
>And when there's demons,
>Who try to steal your breath away,

CROW: They can be real bummers.

>You can't believe that,
>Know my spirit will be standing by your side.

JOEL: That is pretty unbelievable.

>
>You saved me, you gave me,
>The greatest gift of all,

TOM: Fifteen hundred dollars.

>Believe me, believe me,

CROW: I don't believe you.

>There ain't no mountain that's too tall.
>
>I would gladly carry your cross for you,
>To take your pain away.

TOM: It's easier to "Nupe It," though.

>But what I can't carry is my love for you
>Beyond my dying day,

JOEL: 'Cause, you know, I'd be dead and all.

>
>So be strong, my little man,

CROW: Silly song, my little man.

>When I'm gone, my little man.

JOEL: Read this palm, my little man.

>You got to be my little man.

TOM: Summary, my little man.

>Go to sleep, my little man.

JOEL: Mail a jeep, my little man.

>Don't you weep, my little man.

TOM: Fundraise for CREEP, my little man.

>You got to be my little man.

CROW: Shaving cream, my little man.

>So don't you weep, my little man.

TOM: Soup of plomeek, my little man.

>
> Bookshire'd nearly cried when he heard that.
>Reflecting later, he figured that the song was more for him,

CROW: Since he believed he was the center of the universe anyway.

>considering its content. Anyway, sometimes Bookshire had
>him doing small chores for him,

JOEL: But he couldn't get Chris to paint his house.

> like changing her IV bag,
>getting water, little things like that.

TOM: You know. Medical stuff.

> He thought it would
>be good if Chris got off the chair every now and then. Poor
>guy had only slept maybe four hours in the past week.

JOEL: Indirect quotations can be a good way to move a story along.
TOM: Yeah, but this is indirect narrative.

> The
>coffee cups piled around his chair were testimony to that
>fact. Every now and then other villagers would come in and
>visit, talking to Chris,

TOM: Howl at the moon a little...

> offering words of assurance, and in
>general making sure he was all right. He would constantly

CROW: Distract them by asking if they wanted to go for walkies.

>reply that he was fine, it was her that needed to be prayed
>for.

JOEL: May the spirit of Chuck Jones watch over them.

> Most of the villagers began to understand just how
>much she meant to him.

TOM: It was like the only reason she was in this story was to
be his girlfriend.
JOEL: Don't break the reality now.

>
> On the eighth day, Rebecca awoke. Well, not like that.

CROW: Actually, she stayed asleep.

>First she'd sucked in a gasping breath. Then her eyelids
>fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was her
>boyfriend,

TOM: And later she saw Chris.

> head buried in her chest, crying. "Wh-what's
>wrong, Chris?" He raised his head

ALL: AAAH!

> and looked into her eyes.
>"Nothing. I'm just so relieved... I thought you were gone
>for good.

CROW: Uh...I already moved all my stuff into your room...

> I love you, Rebecca." Though it was a great
>effort, she raised her arm and laid it on her head. "I love
>you too, Chris.

TOM: Hey, something or other was making this awful music-like
noise all week; could you find out what it is and stop it?

> Thank you for being there with me." He
>sniffled. "I promised, didn't I?

JOEL: Yeah, just in time to have to live up to that promise, too.

> I always make good on my
>promises." Bookshire came over. "Right now, Chris, I think
>it's best if you went home and got some sleep.

CROW: Now that there's some emotional payoff to the vigil.

> You've been
>awake for a week straight. She's fine now,

TOM: All medical problems vanish when you just wake up again.

> I can take it
>from here. Go on, you need your sleep. You can come back
>after you've rested."

JOEL: When she's had the chance to slip back into unconsciousness.

>
> Chris nodded, and stood up. "I guess you're right."

CROW: Way to keep that promise not to leave her side.

>He looked at himself. "I think I need a shower, too.

TOM: And the entire village thanks him.

>Well," he knelt down and kissed Rebecca's forehead. "I'll
>be back later, dear. Don't go anywhere, okay?" She smiled.
>"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, honey.

CROW: "Last month some nice fellows from the National Park Service
put a radio-transmitter collar on me."

> Go
>on, you look like you were up for a week." Remembering what
>Bookshire had said, she suddenly became serious.

JOEL: Hey! You've been awake for 179 hours and 43 minutes!

> "You were,
>weren't you? You didn't leave my side for a week! Dear
>Destiny,

TOM: Won't you come out to play?

> you really meant it! Out! Leave! Get some sleep!
>I order you to sleep for two days straight!"
>
> Chris chuckled.

CROW: Would you want me to use my super-brain to psychically
heal your wounds for you?
TOM: Hey!
JOEL: Yeah, cookie to Tom.

> "Allright, 'Becca, I'll go. Just
>promise me you'll still be here when I'm up?"

CROW: [ As Rebecca, sharply ] "I'm not planning to flee the moment
your back is turned!"

>
> "I promise. Now, go!" He turned and headed out, still
>chuckling.

JOEL: It is funny, isn't it?
TOM: What?
JOEL: You know, the funny stuff.

> Rebecca turned to Bookshire. "He really does
>love me, doesn't he?" Bookshire's face grew wistful.

CROW: The term is 'codependence.'

> "More
>than you may ever know, Rebecca. That boy would give his
>life for you. I'm sure of it."

JOEL: But what do I know?

>
>End.

CROW: Yay!
TOM: Woo-hoo!

>
>Well? What did you think?

JOEL: Too many words.

> Since it's my first attempt at a
>fanfic,

CROW: You don't say?

> you can be sure that they'll get better.

TOM: We can only hope so.

> Trust me,
>a lot of hair-pulling came about as a result of trying to
>finish this story.

JOEL: You too, huh?

> Still, I think I rather did a good job.

TOM: In a very restricted sense of the word 'good,' but...

>
>Questions?

CROW: Why does "Sonic the Hedgehog" get all these fanfics?

> Comments? Flames? Movie contracts?

TOM: The tragic thing is it's too well written to become a movie
these days.

> Job
>offers?

CROW: We'll get back to you.

> E-mail me at baks...@ix.netcom.com.
>

JOEL: [ Picking up TOM ] We'll keep that in mind.

[ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ]

[ INT SOL. CROW, JOEL, and TOM are baking cookies. There's an
amazing mess of batter, flour, eggshells, and such all over
the entire set. CROW is reading from a cookbook. ]

CROW: Add two tbsps baking powder.
TOM: Two tbsps?
JOEL: Two tablespoons, right. [ Sprinkles it into the central bowl;
starts stirring. ]
CROW: No, two tbsps.
JOEL: Guys...
TOM: I've got the baking pans all greased up, Joel.
JOEL: Ah, good.
[ JOEL reaches under and pulls up the baking trays. JOEL starts
dabbing spoonfuls of batter onto the trays. ]
JOEL: So, do you two feel like you learned anything from this fanfic?
TOM: Learned anything?
CROW: What's to learn from *this*?
JOEL: Well, how about that sometimes you have to give up your
comfortable old home in order to do something meaningful with
your life?
CROW: Like Keith-slash-Chris did?
JOEL: [ Continuing to place cookies ] Yeah.
TOM: But all Keith gave up was certain, horrible death.
CROW: And the only meaningful thing he did with his new life was get
a girlfriend.
JOEL: That's still pretty meaningful. Okay, how about learning,
like Sally and the other Mobians did, about not accepting
matters at face value, and withholding judgement until one
learns the full truth of a situation?
CROW: You mean the way they unquestioningly took Keith into their
ranks, and later repeated it when he became Chris, without even
a cursory questioning to determine if he presented any sort of
security risk, as if they knew he was the protagonist?
JOEL: All right, guys. Maybe what you should really draw from the
story isn't something directly shown in the text, but rather in
the questions raised by the storyline.
CROW: Like what?
JOEL: Well...
[ JOEL takes the baking trays and places them underneath the desk,
as though putting them in the oven. ]
JOEL: How much trust can you extend to a person, and how does
a stranger earn your trust?
CROW: Ooh. Or you could ask what that Death Egg thing had to do
with the story.
TOM: Or, you could ask, Sonic the Hedgehog: Why? Why? Why why WHY
Sonic the Hedgehog already?
CROW: Hey, if the Internet had gotten big a decade earlier they
might have been inflicting "Pound Puppies" fanfics on us.
JOEL: [ Shakes his head, reaches under to pull out trays of baked
cookies. ] You two are incorrigible.
CROW: So stop incorriging us.
JOEL: [ Eating one of the cookies. ] What do you think, sirs?

[ D13. DR. FORRESTER and TV's FRANK are sitting; TV's FRANK still
in the cardboard car and covered with red paint; but they are
trying to scrub him clean. Little progress has been made. ]

DR.F: You know something, Frank?
FRANK: What's that, Clayton?
DR.F: They've got to be feeling pretty darned smug up there.
FRANK: Because you didn't manage to crush their souls with another
"Sonic the Hedgehog" fanfic?
DR.F: Grrr...anyway, yes, that's the problem.
FRANK: Oh, I'm sure you have a plan.
DR.F: That I do, yes. You see, they can feel proud for having passed
through this one...
FRANK: But you've got more lined up?
DR.F: More lined up than you can even imagine, Frank. More stories
from this same author...
FRANK: Wow.
DR.F: More and more fans writing their very first fanfic every day...
FRANK: Oh, that can be painful.
DR.F: Yes...we've gone easy on them so far.
FRANK: I can imagine, yes.
DR.F: So we're going to let them be lulled into a sense of security
now.
FRANK: You can destroy them later, certainly.
DR.F: Precisely, Frank. Would you press the button, please?
FRANK: Glad to.
[ TV'S FRANK stands up; hits DR. FORRESTER with the front of his
cardboard car. ]
DR.F: Oouch!
FRANK: [ Oblivious ] Where was that button?
[ TV'S FRANK turns around; hits DR. FORRESTER again. ]
DR.F: Aagh!
[ TV'S FRANK turns around again; hits DR. FORRESTER again. ]
DR.F: Ooorg!
FRANK: There it is.
DR.F: FRANK!
FRANK: Oops...
[ TV'S FRANK pushes the button. ]

\ | /
\ | /
\|/
---o--- [ * Pwooom * ]
/|\
/ | \
/ | \

Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and
situations are trademarks of and Copyright 1997 Best Brains,
Inc. "Sonic the Hedgehog" and "Sonic the Hedgehog" characters
are trademarks of and Copyright Sega, Archie Comics, and DIC.
All rights reserved. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material
is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the
original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc,
Sega, Archie Comics, or DIC is intended or should be inferred.
Remaining characters are Copyright their creators; and the original
story as a whole is Copyright Keith Aksland. This MiSTing is
intended solely for personal entertainment and is not meant to
be an insult to the creators or fans of the Sonic the Hedgehog
products, and certainly not to Keith Aksland, who knew what he
was getting into when he mentioned he had some Sonic fanfics
too. The "Eclectic/Cool, I collect stuff too" joke was originally
written by Ginger V. Tuttle for The Rutgers Review, Rutgers
University, New Brunswick, New Jersey.

> It was a detailed set of blueprints
>for something called a Death Egg.