[MSTed] ER fanfic
GB8B
MSTed by Brian Pacula <gb...@aol.com>
This is my first stab at a MSTing so if it sucks, I sincerely apologize.
Being relatively familiar with the TV show "ER" is suggested for
maximum enjoyment of this MSTing. It's not a bad show, either.
<Theme song. Did I mention my mother's here?>
<Click, shoomp, whirrr, etc...>
<The Scene: Mike is in a surgical gown, Tom and Gypsy are in nurses'
uniforms, Crow is lying on the counter, along with "E-Z Bot Repair" and
assorted tools and electonic equipment>
MIKE: Oh, hi, folks, welcome to Sat-O-Love General. We were just about
to install a new logic board in Crow here.
TOM: Just hurry up, okay? This nurse outfit subverts my masculinity.
CROW: Tom, you wouldn't know masculinity if it bit you on the -*
MIKE: Hush, boy, it's time to begin the operation. I'm gonna shut you down
now, okay?
CROW: If I die during the operation I don't want Tom to have any of my
stuff.
<Commercial Sign. Ads for lots of really bad CC shows. Maybe one for
Fargo>
<Back on the SOL, Crow is standing again, with an Ace bandage around his
midsection.>
CROW: Ohh, that's *much* better. I don't get that burning sensation when I
read a value from my third address register anymore.
TOM: Really? Does your stack pointer still ache?
CROW: No, that was just -- uh, I'd rather not talk about it.
MIKE: Hold it guys, Sonny and Cher are calling...
<Deep 13>
CLAYTON: Uh, I have to make this quick, I'm...helping Mother...
PEARL: <OFFSCREEN> Clayton! Get back here and finish loofah-ing my back!
CLAYTON: Ehh...Coming, Mother! <TO SOL> Here's some brief fanfic from
alt.tv.er. Complete with a song. Enjoy! <Hurries offscreen>
<SOL>
CROW: Loofah-ing?
ALL: Aaaauuughhh! Fanfic siiiiign!!!
<Whirrr, shoomp, click, etc...>
>Path:
newsbf01.news.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-
mail
MIKE: What's it for, then?
>From: deby...@aol.com (DebyLGW16)
>Newsgroups: alt.tv.er
>Subject: fanfic
>Date: 11 Mar 1996 17:31:43 -0500
>Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364)
CROW: If you're one of the few people who doesn't have at least twelve
AOL disks, call us and we'll send you a few more!
TOM: They make great coasters, frisbees, skeet, pasties, christmas tree
ornaments...
MIKE: I'm building a scale model of Monticello with my extra America
Online disks.
CROW: I'm paneling my room with mine.
>Lines: 138
>Sender: ro...@newsbf02.news.aol.com
>Message-ID: <4i29kf$k...@newsbf02.news.aol.com>
MIKE: Boy, try saying that.
TOM: What, 4i29kf$k68@newsbf02?
MIKE: Um, yeah...how do you do that?
>Reply-To: deby...@aol.com (DebyLGW16)
>NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com
>In the Arms of Sleep
MIKE: Sleep! In heavenly peace!
>by Deby...@aol.com
>Standard disclaimer: This story is based on events on the TV show
>"ER". None of the characters are mine.
TOM: They belong to the ages, now.
>They belong to Michael
>Crichton, Constant C Productions,
CROW: Constant Pascal is a better production company.
MIKE: Huh?
>and etc.
TOM: Who's "etc"?
>The lyrics to the song
>included in the story are not mine, either. They belong to Smashing
>Pumpkins.
CROW: Uh-oh. There's a song?
MIKE: <Billy Corgan> Toodaayyy is the greaaatest...
TOM: Mike, don't.
MIKE: <Billy Corgan> The werrrld is a vaaaampiiire...
TOM: One more line and I'll have you killed, pink boy.
MIKE: <laughing> Okay, relax.
This story proceedes a story written by
>stef...@cpcn.com entitled "We All Stand Up."
<All stand briefly>
>IN THE ARMS OF SLEEP
CROW: Again.
>Prologue:
TOM: Previously, on ER...
> Carol was in the elevator. She pressed the button for the fifth
>floor.
CROW: What, the fifth floor couldn't press the button itself?
>Psyche. and social services.
TOM: And incomplete sentences.
>This is what she told the people
>she treated to do. She needed help, but she didn't need a social
>worker. Doug had helped her a lot. He had been so kind to her. He
>had pushed Shep away. She wanted him to fill the gap in her heart.
MIKE: She really ought to have Dr. Benton do that. He's the surgeon.
>She wanted their lips to meet in an endless kiss,
TOM: *mmrphmmp...*
>and their lives to be
CROW: Swiftly ended.
>forever bonded. He'd probably just reject her, though.
MIKE: Like a transplant organ.
CROW: These medical jokes are going to get old fast.
>Just like he did
>when the people at the adoption agency took her chance to help away
>from her and implied she was defective.
CROW: If *your* Nurse Carol Hathaway is defective, return her for an
exchange or a complete refund.
>She couldn't be rejected
>again. The elevator doors opened.
TOM: Darth Vader emerged, surveying the carnage that had ensued...
>She did not want to talk to a
>social worker. She pressed the button for the ER. She would work
>until she figured out what to do.
MIKE: <CAROL> Burying myself in work will supress those pesky emotions.
>That could be a while.
>The Story:
ALL: ...Of a man named Brady...
>"Sleep will not come to this tired body now
>Peace will not come to this lonely heart
MIKE: Just for fun, the author thought she'd interject a completely out-
of-place song.
>There are some things I'll live without
CROW: <Infomercial Host> But *nobody* can live without the *amazing*
Ronco Miracle Mop!
MIKE: Are you sure Ronco makes the Miracle Mop?
CROW: Uhh...
TOM: It's just a joke, Mike, you should really just relax.
>I need you tonight
TOM: What is this, "Unchained Melody"?
>I steal a kiss
TOM: And a road sign.
>From her sleeping shadow moves
>'Cause I'll always miss her
>Where ever she goes
>And I'll always need her
>More then she could ever need me
CROW: Obsess much, Billy?
>I need someone to ease my mind
>But sometimes a someone is so hard to find
>And I'll do anything
>To keep her here tonight
CROW: Chain her to the bed.
MIKE: Bar the windows.
TOM: Break her legs.
>And I'll say anything
>To make her fell all right
MIKE: Tiiimmmbbbeeeerrrr!!!
>And I'll be anything
>To keep her here tonight
TOM: <CHOKED UP> I'll change! Don't leave me!
>'Cause I want you to stay with me
>I need you tonight
>She comes to me
>Like an angel out of time
CROW: Or a Colour out of Space.
>As I play the part
>Of a saint on my knees
TOM: Guess he *would* do anything to keep her!
MIKE: Keep it clean, Tom.
>There are some things I'll live without
>But I want you to know
MIKE: That I like wearing small childrens' clothing.
>That I need you right now
>Suffer my desire
>Suffer my desire
>Suffer my desire for you
TOM: Shock the monkey.
MIKE: Feed your head.
CROW: Do the ultra-twist.
>Suffer my desire
>Suffer my desire
>Suffer my desire for you"
CROW: Whip it good.
TOM: Rock the casbah.
MIKE: Shake it up.
>Doug turned off the radio alarm clock. He new the story too well. He
>felt it in his heart.
MIKE: Uh, that's a heart murmur, Doug. You should really have someone
check that out.
>He was reminded of it all the time, especially at
>work.
TOM: Sick and injured children make *me* think of love, too.
>It was what kept him up, and what woke him up in the middle of
>the night. He didn't need it to be what woke him up at 5:30. He just
>couldn't stop thinking about her.
MIKE: Doug's fixation with the Noxema girl quickly became an unhealthy
obsession.
> He sensed the presence of a warm body next to him. Uh, oh,
>how drunk *was* he last night? Rachel? No!
TOM: Yes, it's time to play "Who's that Woman in my Bed?"
>It was Linda.
ALL: Hi, Linda.
> "Linda," he woke her up, "I have to go to work now. You
>probably should go home."
TOM: <LINDA> But we're *at* my home...
> "First time you've said that." She was surprised.
> "There's always a first," he said indifferently.
CROW: Doug Ross, the apathetic womanizer.
>If Carol wanted
>him to change, he would. G-d
MIKE: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain.
CROW: If the author was worried about offending us she shouldn't
have left in the Smashing Pumpkins song.
>he hoped that she wouldn't go back to
>that bastard Shep.
TOM: Now, hold on a sec.
CROW: What?
TOM: I got the impression from the last few episodes that Shep was a
*nice* guy.
MIKE: Tom, this is fanfic. It doesn't have to follow the continuity of
the actual TV show.
>He started to get dressed and saw that Linda
>wasn't getting up. Oh, well, she'd be gone by the time he got home.
TOM: Or so he thought.
>He left the apartment
CROW: His head bobbing like that of a dashboard figurine...
>and boarded the EL train.
CROW: He had just missed the KAY train.
MIKE: And he was too early for the EM train.
>He hoped that Carol
>would be on. Just the way she moved, the way she walked thrilled
>him.
TOM: Doug excites easily.
>She had lost some of her flair, though. She didn't smile often.
>She creeped like a robot through the ER.
CROW: You're one of us, now, Carol.
TOM: Join us...
>Doing the tasks expected.
>Refueling when needed. Lying down when circuits will no longer
>function.
MIKE: Doug may be on to something with that robot theory.
>The train stopped. Doug looked around. He realized that if
>he didn't get off here, he would circle Chicago before getting to Cook
>County General. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the
>blear of the sirens.
CROW: ICBM's at three O'clock! We're all gonna die!
TOM: Game over, man!
> A teenager in a hit in run was coming in. Mark sighed, gulping
>the rest of his coffee. His shift was almost over.
TOM: Ugh! Isn't that rather personal!?
MIKE: Tom, it says "shift," not...
TOM: Oh.
>Attending wasn't all
>it's cracked up to be.
> "Mark," Susan called,"ETA less that one minute."
CROW: So, is the author going to go off about Mark and Susan pining for
each other now?
TOM: I hope not.
MIKE: It could be worse, guys. This could be "Friends" fanfic about
Ross and Rachel lusting after each other.
TOM: Boy, that *does* make me feel better.
>He gathered
MIKE: Nuts and grain in preparation of the harsh winter ahead.
>help. The paramedics wheeled in a stretcher with a boy on it. The
>staff of the ER ran with it to trauma two. Doug walked in.
> "Bullet," he requested.
TOM: Bang.
> "Male, 17, auto vs. pedestrian,
MIKE: Tonight, on WCW championship wrestling! Weighing in at 150
pounds, The Pedestrian, Male 17!!!
TOM: And in this corner, weighing in at at two tons, The Auto!!!
ALL: <CROWD NOISES>
CROW: My money's on the auto.
>BP...
>
> * * *
> 12 hours later
>
> Carol was in the doctors' lounge getting coffee. She had been
>on for how long? She didn't even know. She sat down,
CROW: *bbbbppppbbbtttthhhhttt*
MIKE: D'oh!!!
TOM: Oh, those pranksters in the OR!
>*but* she
>started to think.
MIKE: It made her head hurt so she stopped.
>She got up and proceeded to the reception desk.
>She knew she would have to go home sometime.
TOM: She hadn't fed her goldfish in days.
>She hoped that he
>wasn't there.
TOM: Of course he is, how's he gonna get out of the bowl?
>She knew that she loved him, but she just couldn't take
>that kind of relationship.
TOM: <CAROL> Look, you're just a goldfish! A time has to come when
I can just...well...*flush* you.
>She wasn't strong enough. She'd been hurt
>too many times, mentally and physically.
TOM: That goldfish was a real heartbreaker.
MIKE: Okay, Tom, that's enough.
>She couldn't go home even
>if he wasn't there. If she was all alone in that big house she would
>think.
MIKE: God forbid.
>She would cry. She might try something.
CROW: <CAROL, CHOKED UP> *sniff* Now, what would happen if I put a
Pop-Tart in the toaster and just kept the lever held down...?
>G-d, why is life so
>hard?
TOM: Th-s -s -n- h-ck -f - p-l-t-c-lly c-rr-ct --th-r.
MIKE: What?
> Doug approached the front desk. He saw Carol standing there
>staring into space.
TOM: ...Above and Beyond.
>It wasn't an <I'm so deep in thought> stare. It was
>more of a <what am I doing, where am I going> stare.
TOM: Who am I?
CROW: What did I do with my car keys?
MIKE: Who's that guy that just waved to me?
TOM: What time is it?
CROW: Who played the principal in "Welcome Back, Kotter"?
MIKE: What's the frequency, Kenneth?
> "Carol?" he got her attention. She responded almost
>immediately. She was grateful for anything to latch her thoughts onto.
MIKE: <NATURE SHOW HOST> The thoughts of the Carol Hathaway are
parasitic, latching onto nearby pediatricians and sucking their nourishing
blood.
>He started to brief her on an abdominal pain
CROW: Abdominal pain. It hurts your abdomen. Now get to work.
>in three that he could use
>some assistance with, but he stopped mid-way. The circles under her
>eyes were plainly visible.
MIKE: <DOUG> Carol, you've got to stop playing with your Magic Markers
like that.
> "How long have you been on?" it was a valid question. He was
>very concerned.
TOM: <DOUG> I am very concerned.
> "You'll have to check the board or the charts or something. I
>don't know."
> "Carol, you should get out of here. I'm clocking out soon
CROW: Hey, isn't "clocking out" one of those expressions you can't say on
the net anymore?
TOM: Yeah, like "breast."
MIKE: And "abort."
CROW: And "poopie."
MIKE: And "area."
TOM: And "hinder."
>and
>come to think of it, when I got here you had been on for quite a while."
>He checked with Jerry and found that she was on her third straight
>shift.
TOM: Those laxatives really work.
MIKE: Okay, Tom, that's just not funny anymore.
CROW: It never was.
>They were walking to the doctors' lounge.
> "Oh, Doug, where would I go," he knew an answer to that one,
>but kept it to himself. "What would I do? Sleep?" Doug reached for his
>prescription pad.
CROW: <DOUG> I prescribe three doses daily of me, Dr. Doug Feelgood.
>"Yeah, I guess you could drug me up like one of your
>patients,
MIKE: <CAROL, BITTER> Or like one of your *women.*
>but honestly, would it help?" Doug left the pad in his pocket
>and put his arm around Carol.
> "No, I guess not." He felt helpless. He wanted to hold her in his
>arms and tell her it's gonna be all right.
TOM: But he couldn't. They were doomed to a life of emptiness and failure.
>He wanted to relive her pain
>and her anguish, but there are some miracles even doctors can't work.
MIKE: Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker!
>She left the room intending to work until she dropped. He sat there
>staring. He cursed himself as a tear came to his eye. He needed her
>now, but it seemed as though he would never have her.
ALL: AAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWwwwwww......
TOM: Boo-hoo, Doug, we've all got problems.
CROW: <DOUG, CRYING> I didn't want that dumb old nurse anyway.
MIKE: It's over guys. We can go.
TOM: Really? No "to be continued..." or "The End?"?
MIKE: Um, no.
CROW: Great. Lets get out of here.
<Click, shoomp, whirrr, etc...>
MIKE: So, what did you think of todays experiment? Coulda been worse.
TOM: Yeah, whatever. Mike, Crow and Gypsy and I have been thinking...
CROW: You did such a good job with that new logic board I needed that we
were hoping maybe you could give us some other modifications.
TOM: And we were inspired by today's experiment.
MIKE: Really? Well, what did you have in mind?
TOM: Well, ah, I'd like to have my head bob the way George Clooney's does.
GYPSY: And I want Sherry Stringfield's voice.
CROW: And I want Anthony Edwards' movie career.
MIKE: Oh, I don't know, guys. I think you're all perfect the way you are.
CROW: You do?
GYPSY: Really?
BOTS: AAAAAAaaawwwwwww.
TOM: We love you too, Mike.
MIKE: *sniff* What do you think, sir?
<Deep 13>
CLAYTON: I think I'm going to be sick. Urrghhhkk... <Runs offscreen>
PEARL: Oh, don't listen to him. He's always queasy on Bath Day. <Looks
offscreen> You go throw up in *your* bathroom, not mine, you hear me?
<Click!>
\ | /
- o -
/ | \
<Credits>
MST3K and all related characters, names, situations, etcetera are TM and
(c) Best Brains Inc. No infringment or challenge to any copyrights or
trademarks held by BBI, Comedy Central, HBO, Viacom, NBC, Constant C
Productions, or any other company is implied or intended or anything. No
personal attack on the original author of the post riffed herein or her
writing skills are intended. This is just good ol' not-for-profit
good-natured satire here, folks. If this doesn't cover my ass, nothing
will.
>She creeped like a robot through the ER. Doing the tasks expected.
>Refueling when needed. Lying down when circuits will no longer function.
**********************************************
BRIAN PACULA
---------------------------------
EMAIL: gb...@aol.com
WWW: http://users.aol.com/gb8b/
**********************************************
Used to be different / now you're the same / yawn as
your plane goes down in flames -- TMBG, Cage & Aquarium