[MiSTed] Doctor, Samuel Beckett
Keith Williams
MiSTing written by me.
Contributing Writer / Editor: Laurie Cubbinson
Enjoy...
--
"Maybe all I need / besides my pills / and surgery / is a new metaphor
for reality."
- Queensryche -- "Disconnected" -- Promised Land
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[] Kurris (aka Keith Williams) will...@aix.wingra.com []
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[ <>...1...2...3...4...5...6... ]
>
> Doctor, Samuel Beckett
> ----------------------
CROW: Pleased to meet you. I'm Robot, Crow T.
> or
>
> A Leap in Time
> --------------
SERVO: Saves nine.
MIKE: I think that's a *stitch* in time, Tom.
>
> by Paul Harman
> ==============
CROW: A name to forget.
>
> Part One
> ~~~~~~~~
MIKE: Lots of multi-parters lately.
SERVO: I've noticed that, too.
CROW: Do they part on the left or the right?
>
> The usual post-leap euphoria in the control room
SERVO: PARTY!!!
CROW: Toga! Toga!
MIKE: Pass the beer bong!!
> at Project Quantum
> Leap was broken as sirens blared throughout the complex.
ALL: WE'VE GOT FANFIC SIGN!!!
ALL: ...HEY!!!
> Al, tired from the
> last leap
MIKE: Isn't Al getting a little old for all this physical comedy?
> (which had been a particularly difficult one), looked up in
> puzzlement.
SERVO: Which way did he go? Which way did he go?
> "What the hell's that?" he demanded of no-one in particular.
CROW: "It's a siren," no-one answered.
SERVO: Who's this "no-one" character.
MIKE: And how'd we suddenly get transported to Particular?
> "I have no idea, but I intend to find out!" replied Gooshie,
SERVO: "Good god, man, can't you see I'm doing the best I can?"
> already
> on his feet and making good speed towards Ziggy.
MIKE: Averaging more than three steps an hour.
CROW: Which is *still* enough to leave him exhausted.
> Ziggy herself seemed in a panic,
SERVO: "How did I get into this stupid fanfic!!! Get my agent on the phone!"
> or at least as close to a panic as a
> computer could get.
CROW: Which is not very, but never mind that.
> She was slurring her speech slightly,
MIKE: [drunkenly] Woudge you lyke annnot'er dreenk?
> spouting strange
> but worrying error messages
SERVO: WARNING: Total system collapse imminent...Just kidding!
MIKE: Abort? Retry? Fail?
> that had never before been used. Gooshie leapt to
CROW: Yeah, right. Hasn't this guy ever *watched* Quantum Leap?
> the main console, and placed his hand onto one of the access pads.
SERVO: "Ooh, that feels good. Do it some more."
> "Ziggy, what's going on?" he asked. It took Ziggy some time to respond.
MIKE: "Well, there's still the invasion of Haiti...Oh, you meant here."
> "I have lost contact with Sam," Ziggy replied, apparently in some
> distress (or at least a good imitation of distress).
CROW: What gave it away? The sirens? The flashing lights?
> "What exactly do you mean?"
SERVO: "I...have...lost...contact...with...Sam. Is *that* clear enough for
you, Noodle Brain?"
> "I had his position until he leapt, but now I have no trace."
MIKE: [ahem] Isn't that how it *usually* works?
SERVO: Yeah, first he's here, then he's not. At which point, YOU LOOK FOR
HIM!
> "Was there any indication of where he leapt to?"
CROW: Wouldn't *when* be a more appropriate question?
> "None whatsoever."
SERVO: "Of course, I haven't bothered looking yet, but I have this strong
feeling that I just *won't* be able to find him."
> "Great," said Al, "just great."
MIKE: [as Homer Simpson] Stupid computer.
>
>
> Sam blinked as he completed his leap,
SERVO: Rise and shine, little buddy, time to mow the lawn.
> shielding his eyes from the
> bright blue glare.
CROW: Uh-oh. He's not a male stripper again, is he?
> I really must work out what that is when I get back, he
> thought.
SERVO: Hello? We don't have italics here, please use single quotes to
indicate what a character is thinking. Thank you. `What a dweeb,'
I thought.
MIKE: No, I had a creative writing professor once who said that's the
the way to do it--no quotes at all, italics either. But then he and
Charlie always did their writing at McDonald's so what does he
know.
> He looked around to see what situation he had been left in this time,
MIKE: Gilligan!!
> and shook his head when he did so. He couldn't really believe what he was
> seeing. He was in a
SERVO: *Really* bad fanfic.
> cream-white room, standing in front of...
CROW: A full length mirror. `I have *got* to go on a diet.'
> something. The
> walls were white,
MIKE: Thanks for clearing that up. For a minute there, I thought they
were *cream* white.
> with glowing circular depressions which he took for some
SERVO: Not there for even five minutes and he's already stealing things off
of the walls! What a klepto!!
> kind of light fittings: certainly there were no other visible means of
> illumination;
CROW: I should say *not*! What kind of barbarians do you take us for?!!?
> no windows, skylights, strip-lamps or anything else.
MIKE: What about track lighting? He didn't mention track lighting, so that
*must* be the answer.
CROW: Well, you know what they say about guys with track lightin'.
SERVO: What?
CROW: You watched _Steel Magnolias_, didn't you?
> There
> appeared to be two exits from the room,
SERVO: Actually, there is only *one* exit. The other door leads to instant
death. Choose carefully.
> a door opposite him and what he
> presumed to be a heavy security double-door (an airlock?)
CROW: No, a new CAR!!!
> with no visible
> means of opening.
MIKE: I'm getting the picture that just about *nothing* is visible in this
room.
> For some reason, this made him think of a
SERVO: Hot fudge sundae.
> laboratory, with
> highly dangerous experiments being conducted behind those unopenable doors.
CROW: Oooh, setting the tone a little *early*, aren't we?
> They had definitely been built to withstand _something_, he thought.
SERVO: Yeah, bad fanfic writers.
CROW: Got..to...get behind...those...doors.
> If
> that were the case, then the room he was in would be some sort of control
> centre.
MIKE: [game show buzzer] Wrong! But thank you for playing.
> There was a monitor half-way up the wall opposite to the safety doors,
SERVO: Showing a rerun of "Mitchell."
MIKE & CROW: NO!!!
> currently turned off. If this was a control room of some kind, it would
CROW: Have to have an honour bar in here *somewhere*.
MIKE: You know something? There's nothing like logic to slow a plot
down.
> explain the mushroom-like structure in the centre of the room.
SERVO: Eewgh. I wouldn't touch that if I were you.
> But what of the
> rising/falling perspex column in the centre?
SERVO: Wach-cha-cha-waa Doh-cha-cha-wow.
> Somewhere in the distance a bell was ringing,
CROW: The division bell.
SERVO: Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.
> a slow loud tolling. It
> sounded like a
MIKE: Bell. We've got that part.
> warning of doom itself.
SERVO: Hi, I'm Doom, and I'll be performing here all week. Enjoy the
buffet.
> Sam opened the smaller door and looked
CROW: Into the depths of the horror that is his own soul.
> out into a corridor, the walls of which were the same as those in the control
> room.
MIKE: Invisible.
> The bell was louder out there. Was it a fire bell? Maybe, but
SERVO: That's nothing to be concerned about now. Where'd I put my *fish*?
> what was
> he to do about it? He didn't know where to run.
CROW: Ha-hah-ha!! Trapped like a rat in a cage!!
MIKE: Run, Joe, run!!
> "Oh, where _are_ you Al?" he asked. "I need you here..."
SERVO: "I'm right here, sweetheart, in the secret place where *they* can
never harm us."
> Sam was getting a little warm.
CROW: Why's he wearing a full length fox coat in the first place?
> He looked down at his clothes:
SERVO: Say! I didn't think those things even *came* in my size!!
> a thick
> purple overcoat, a waistcoat and a shirt, trousers, and a very long scarf
> were all he could see.
MIKE: Isn't that enough?
CROW: I guess he can't see the fedora.
> A hatstand in the corner of the room had a floppy
> wide-brimmed hat on it.
CROW: Oh, so he can see the hat after all.
No wonder he was getting warm.
CROW: It's that damned hat!
> He began to search
> through the pockets to work out what was going on.
SERVO: Sam thinks better when he's chewing gum.
> In one, a paper bag full of
> jelly babies, he took one and nibbled the end experimentally before popping
> it into his mouth.
ALL: EEWGH!!
> In another, what appeared to be a screwdriver with some
CROW: Ice. Sam *hates* watered down drinks.
> buttons on the handle, and a business card written in a language which bared
> a striking resemblance to Greek.
MIKE: Or Pig Latin, he couldn't be sure.
> "Oh, boy!" he said.
ALL: . . .
SERVO: What's he "oh, boy"ing about?
MIKE: Hey! Sam!! *Read* *the* *card* *OUT* *LOUD*!!
CROW: Yeah, we're only mindreaders when the author grants us that power!!
>
> ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
SERVO: What? That's it?!!?
MIKE: Just kind'a, fizzled out there, didn't.
CROW: Hey, you don't hear *me* complaining, do you?
SERVO: He thinks he's giving us a cliffhanger. After all, this is just
part one.
> --
> -+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- Paul `Ozymandias' Harman : p...@doc.ic.ac.uk -+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
CROW: No relation to Paul `Ohmyachingcorns' Harman.
SERVO: No relation to Percy Bysshe Shelley either.
> +-+-+-+-+-+ The amazing changing quote currently stands as follows: +-+-+-+-+
> "Do you clear the emotional air by opening a window into your soul?" - Me
SERVO: Oooh, so profound.
CROW: No, that's how you let the Devil in.
>
>
[ ...6...5...4...3...2...1...<> ]
CROW: You know, that wasn't so bad.
MIKE: No, it really wasn't.
SERVO: Short, to the point.
CROW: Just bad writing. No raving lunacy. No excruciating pain.
MIKE: Hmm, do you think we're becoming jaded?
SERVO: Ah, who cares.
MIKE: Sirs?
[ Deep 13 ]
DR. F: Just remember, my captive audience, there are nine more parts to
this "story." We'll see just how glib you are then! Frank, push
the button.
FRANK: I *like* sugar babies.
DR. F: Oh, Frank!
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> "What the hell's that?" he demanded of no-one in particular.