MiSTed: "Glow-in-the-dark Spiderman"
mwa...@uoft02.utoledo.edu
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<Opening. SOL.>
MIKE: Hello, and welcome to the Satellite of Love. I'm Mike Nelson, and this
here's Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot.
TOM: Hiya!
CROW: Hey.
MIKE: Well, we've been a little overworked lately, so we're taking the
afternoon off. The Mads aren't sending us any experiments today,
there's no maintenance stuff to do, no more hamdinger boxes to look
for, nothing. We're just taking it nice and easy. In fact--
CROW: <tugging Mike's sleeve> Uh, Mike?
MIKE: Yeah, Crow. What is it?
CROW: <points at flashing light> I.P. and Seymour are calling.
MIKE: They are? <looks at light> Well, son of a b--
TOM: Hey, now! How come you get to cuss like a sailor and we always get our
beaks clamped?
CROW: Yeah!
MIKE: Oh, uh, sorry. I lost my head for a minute. Anyway, I wasn't "cussing
like a sailor". <pushes button> I was just--
<Deep 13. Frank is off-screen.>
DR. F: Hello, Mr. Coveralls! Frank's getting ready for the invention
exchange, so while he's gone, let's go ahead with yours.
<SOL>
MIKE: Our... what?
<Deep 13>
DR. F: Your... INVENTION, booby! This is the invention exchange! Meaning,
*you* show *me* an invention, and *I* show *you* one.
<SOL>
CROW (muttering): Yeah, *I've* got something I'd like to show him...
MIKE: <glares at Crow for a moment> Yeah, I know what the invention
exchange is. You just, uh, caught me off guard for a minute. In fact,
we've got our invention right here!... somewhere... uh, where is it,
guys?
TOM: Oh! It's right around here. Crow, give me a hand.
<Tom and Crow rummage around, muttering.>
CROW (under a table): I found it! Here it is!
MIKE: Here it is, sir, it's a... <grabs something from Crow and holds it up.>
It's a... rubber ball?
TOM: And not just *any* rubber ball, this one's made purely from recycled
grade-school cafeteria wastes! It's completely biodegradable!
CROW: And the handy, functional design provides even more bounce than there
is in previous rubber ball designs! Bounce this sucker against the
ground, and you'll send it into *orbit*!
MIKE: Uh... yeah! Here, let me demonstrate. <Throws the ball against the
floor. It rebounds and begins bouncing off the walls, knocking stuff
of shelves, and hitting Tom on his head, which falls off.>
TOM: Ow! Hey!
MIKE: Whoops! Sorry, there, little buddy. <Picks up Tom's head and replaces
it.> Well, anyway, there you have it. What do you think, sir?
<Deep 13>
DR. F: That's incredible! Amazing! Why, that's the best invention that's
*ever* come from that satellite, and that's including that other guy,
too. I'm astounded that you even thought that up! <Looks around at
the console in front of him.> In fact, I'm so impressed, I'm bringing
the satellite down right now!
<SOL>
MIKE: Wow, *really*?
CROW: Whoo-HOO!!!
<Balloons fall from the ceiling. Shouting and cheering erupts.>
<Deep 13>
DR. F: NO!!! NOT really! HAHAHAHAHA!!! In fact, you're getting *extra*
hurting added onto your account for that. It was the *dumbest* idea
you've ever had! Anyway, on to my invention. This invention was
inspired by today's alt.para-something post, entitled "Glow-in-the-dark
Spiderman". Now, how many times have you wanted to scare the wits out
of an annoying neighbor or your friendly neighborhood tax lawyer?
Well, with this invention, you'll make them think *aliens* had landed
in their yard! Frank, come on in here.
<Frank enters, wearing a skintight bodysuit that's glowing a pale green.>
<SOL>
ALL: Eeeeewwww...
CROW: I'm not gonna be eating for a *month*!
TOM: We're robots, Crow. We don't eat.
CROW: Oh, yeah.
<Deep 13>
DR. F: Shut up, you tin fools. I call this the "Skin of Space". It's made of
a thin, elastic rubber, mixed with a luminescent dye.
FRANK: Hey, Steve, I (gasp) feel like I'm suffocating in this thing. I can't
(gasp) breathe!
DR. F: Oh, quit your whining, you big baby. Well, that about covers it. Now,
your post. Hit the button, Frank.
FRANK: <falls over>
DR. F: Do I have to do *everything* around here? <hits button>
<SOL>
<Lights, bells, sirens, mass hysteria>
ALL: Aaaahhh! We've got glowing alien sign!
<6.....5.....4.....3.....2.....1>
> From: Michael...@p0.f428.n104.z1.FIDONET.ORG (Michael Corbin)
ALL: Woof, woof!
> Subject:Glow-in-the-dark Spiderman
> Date: 26 Mar 94 01:02:01 GMT
TOM: Greased Monkey Tails?
MIKE: Getcher Mane Trimmed?
CROW: Shut up.
TOM: Give Me Tuna?
CROW: SHUT UP!!!
> Message-ID:<1168.2...@paranet.FIDONET.ORG>
>
> * Forwarded from "Alt.Alien.Visitors"
> * Originally by Ccu...@pomona.claremont.edu
> * Originally to All
> * Originally dated 13 Mar 1994, 20:44
>
TOM: * NOW in three million homes!
MIKE: * NOW with eight essential vitamins!
CROW ... I don't know, guys. That joke just doesn't seem all that funny
anymore.
> From: ccu...@pomona.claremont.edu
> Date: 13 Mar 94 13:00:27 GMT
> Organization: Pomona College
> Message-ID: <1994Mar13.050027.1@pomona>
> Newsgroups: alt.alien.visitors
MIKE (Minnesota old lady voice): Yeah, I remember once back in '74, we had
these aliens just show up at the door. I didn't even have time to fix
anything for 'em to eat, don'tcha know.
TOM (same): Ooo, yeah, I hate when that happens.
>
> When I was 4 I lived in Grants, New Mexico.
MIKE: When I was four, I lived on Earth. <begins whimpering>
TOM: There, there, Mike.
> My room was at the end of the
> hall. With the door open I could see all the way to the front door.
CROW: With the door open, and using my telescope, I could see across the
street into Sheila Martin's window. Whoo, whoo!
> One night
> as I lay wide awake,
TOM: Contemplating the dark and dreary pit that was my sad, *sad* life.
MIKE: Geez, Tom, he was only four.
> I saw a figure pass through the front door without
> opening it.
TOM: BAM!
CROW: Ow! Hey, who left this stinkin' door shut?
> "He" looked like a glow-in-the dark Spiderman only instead of his blue
> and red costume all I could see was the webbing design.
TOM: I think this guy's forgetting the black costume with the white,
stylized spider design on the front and back.
CROW: You fanboy, Servo.
TOM: Plus, his name's supposed to be hyphenated. Spider-Man. Like that.
MIKE: I think you're right.
> He came down the hall,
> stopped half way,
MIKE: Did the hokey pokey, and turned himself around.
> and walked into my sister's room.
CROW: <opens mouth>
MIKE: No, Crow.
TOM: Yeah. This time, I agree.
> Her door was open. This
> happened two more times that night.
MIKE: I think they have laws about that sort of thing.
CROW: Especially in Singapore.
> The second one looked right at me. The
> third one waved to me.
ALL: <wave back>
CROW: Hi!
> They never made a sound. My sister doesn't believe me.
> She was 6 at the time and doesn't remember a thing.
TOM: Now wait. He's relying on memories he had when he was four, and *not*
believing that his six-year-old sister couldn't remember this? Could
this be because it DIDN'T HAPPEN?
MIKE: Now, Tom. Yelling at the post won't do any good.
> The rest of my family
> doesn't believe it either. About 3 years ago I told this to my (now ex-)
> girlfriend.
TOM: Hah! That'll teach him!
> She was shocked
CROW: Heh, heh, into that pain/submission stuff, eh?
MIKE: You're treading on thin ice, mister.
> and told me of a similar experience she'd had when
> she was little.
TOM: Except that she had seen a glow-in-the-dark Ed McMahon entering the
kitchen.
> That same month I was baby-sitting two 4-year-old twins.
TOM: Or four two-year-old twins, I can't remember.
> On a
> whim I thought to ask them if they had ever seen Spiderman.
MIKE: Oh, that's just exactly the sort of thing I'd do on a whim.
CROW: I just like to say "whim". Whim, whim, whim.
> They started
> giggling and told me
TOM: ... I had boogers in my nose.
ALL: Eeeeeewww!
> they had seen him in their mother's room.
MIKE: No, no, honey, that's just daddy on his night off.
>
> Has anyone else out there seen a glow-in-the-dark Spiderman?
TOM: Please! Anybody! They don't believe me here! *Nobody* believes me!
The doctors won't even let me go outside! You've *gotta* tell them
you've seen a glow-in-the-dark Spider-Man! Please! I'm *begging*--
MIKE: Tom! Settle down, there. You're scaring me.
TOM: Oh, sorry. Got a little carried away.
>
> Chris Curtis
CROW: Needs a life!
TOM: Do you suppose that address has anything to do with the X-Men?
MIKE: Huh?
>
> --
> Michael Corbin - via ParaNet node 1:104/422
> UUCP: !scicom!paranet!User_Name
> INTERNET: Michael...@p0.f428.n104.z1.FIDONET.ORG
> ======================================================================
> Inquiries regarding ParaNet, or mail directed to Michael Corbin, should
> be sent to: mco...@paranet.org. Or you can phone voice at 303-429-2654/
TOM: "Or you can phone voice"? Huh?
MIKE: This looks like a job for Grammar-Man!
CROW: I'm gonna call that number and ask if I. P. Frehley's there.
> Michael Corbin
> Director
> ParaNet Information Services
MIKE: C'mon, guys...
<1.....2.....3.....4.....5.....6>
MIKE: Well, what do you think, sirs?
<Deep 13. Frank still has on his glowing alien suit, and is wearing an oxygen
mask.>
DR. F: Can't talk now, Heimlich. I'm gonna take Frank around to the neighbors
and try to pass him off as an actual alien! Gotta go. Push the
button, Frank. <Frank doesn't move, except for beginning to sway
slightly.> Oh, alright. *I'll* do it. Geez. Work, work, work.
<hits button>
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DISCLAIMER!
The characters and situations associated with Mystery Science Theater 3000 are
the properties of Best Brains, Inc., and although I didn't have permission,
it's all in fun and I don't meant to cheat them out of anything. Spider-Man is
a character owned by Marvel Comics Group, which might be owned by some sort of
parent company, but I'm too busy to check on it. Finally, this post is not
meant as a personal attack on this Chris Curtis person, although I'm somewhat
sympathetic because when I was four I saw a giant gorilla one night through a
second-story window, and everybody told *me* it was just a dream. I didn't go
around posting about it on Usenet, though.
>This happened two more times that night. The second one looked right at me.
> The third one waved to me. They never made a sound.
--
Michael R. Warner mwa...@uoft02.utoledo.edu
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"And as the winds of heaven blow / Through the shadows of my mind / I
see my house of dreams..." -Magdallan