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[MiSTed] Posts from alt.sci.time-travel [1/4]

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Jamas Enright

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Jan 25, 1996, 3:00:00 AM1/25/96
to
Blue Light Productions presents...

This is my second posting, but it is my first MiSTing [I took a break
halfway through to hammer something else :) ]. Any comments, send them to
Jamas....@vuw.ac.nz.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
[<insert typical show opening here>]

[Scene starts with Tom and Mike tinkering with something inside a box.
Crow comes on from right.]

CROW: What'cha doing guys?
TOM: Mike and I have invented a device to travel in time.
CROW: Yeah. Various mad scientists have been trying to do this for years,
and now you've succeeded?
MIKE: Come on, Crow. Show some support. We've really done it.
CROW: Okay then. Prove it.

[Mike holds up a plug.]

MIKE: I'll just go put this in the power socket.

[Mike exits to the left with the plug.]

MIKE: [off screen] Okay, Tom. Hit it.

[Tom bumbs the start button with his head. The machine ligths up, looking
not dissimiliar to Orac. Crow looks at it skeptically.]

CROW: Nice light show, botboy.
TOM: Hey, give it a chance. We're just warming it up. You just wont admit
that we can now travel in time.
CROW: I'll believe it when I see it.

[Tom's head pops on shot from right.]

SECOND TOM: [Voice sounds a bit odd] Hiya, Tom, old pal. Nice to see you.
Now that you know you can travel in time, I decided to come back to see
you on this momentous day.

[Crow is looking at the second Tom, shocked. The second Tom turns to him.]

MAGIC VOICE: Commerical Sign in fifteen seconds.
SECOND TOM: Oh, and Crow.
CROW: [slowly] Yes?
SECOND TOM: Pppppppptttt.

[Crow faints, and we hear him crash onto the floor.]

TOM: Hehehehe. You can come out now, Mike.

[Mike comes on from right, holding a copy of Tom's head.]

MAGIC VOICE: Commerical Sign in five seconds.
MIKE: That was pretty mean, wasn't it?
TOM: Yep.
MIKE: We shouldn't have done that.
TOM: Nope.

[Both try to stop themselves laughing, then give up and descend into mad
cackling.]

MAGIC VOICE: Commerical Sign now.

[Mike manages to get himself under enough control to hit the button.]

[Commericals. Aren't you glad you have these things?]

[Scene comes back to SOL. Gypsy is standing in front of Mike and Tom,
berating them. Crow isn't to be seen.]

GYPSY: And you agree that you've been naughty?

[Both nod slowly.]

GYPSY: And you agree to never do it again?

[Both nod slowly again, but can't keep it up, and burst out laughing again.]

GYPSY: Come on, guys, that wasn't nice. I've put Crow away for a nice rest...
TOM: Yeah, a long rest in a mental institute.
GYPSY: [Louder] A NICE REST and when he comes back, I want you to apologise.
TOM: Aw, Gypsy. You're always ruining our fun.
MIKE: She has a point. We should be responsible people, willing to accept
when we're wrong.
GYPSY: Thank you, Mike.
MIKE: Of course, in this case, we aren't in the wrong, but...

[Gypsy storms off. The Mads light flashes.]

MIKE: Mr. Tactful is calling.

[He pushes the button.]

[DEEP13]

DR F: Ah, Nelson. I see you're busy alienating your robot pals. Before
too long, you'll have to deal with these posts all by yourself.

[SOL]

[Crow comes on from left.]

CROW: Never! We'll always stand together, through thick and thin. Nothing
can stop us from overcoming your retchedness.
MIKE: Why, thank you Crow. That's a rather noble speech.
CROW: [low voice] Yeah, yeah. Just wait, Nelson. You'll get yours. Only
_I_ want to give it to you, and not let Dr F. do it.

[DEEP13]

DR F: It's just as well you're faking time travel. You'll fit right in
with these posts I found on alt.sci.time-travel.

[SOL]

TOM: Time travel? Neat. I've always liked dabbling in that area.

[Crow looks at Tom murderously.]

[DEEP13]

DR F: That's good, botbite. You'll really hate these posts then.

[He chortles and pushes the button.]

[SOL - Divers alarums, etc]

ALL: WE GOT THE TIME-TRAVEL SIGN!!!!

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

>Article 1839 of alt.sci.time-travel:
>Path: comp.vuw.ac.nz!uunet!in1.uu.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!

[Mike and the bots enter the theatre and settle down.]
MIKE: We're sorry Crow.
TOM: Yeah. Honestly.
[They cover their mouths as they start giggling again.]
CROW: Bite me.

>news.uoregon.edu!sanjuan.amtsgi.bc.ca!denman.islandnet.com!user
>From: r...@IslandNet.com (RHB)

MIKE: RHB?
CROW: Really Hokey Boy?
TOM: Rather Hippy Bopper?
MIKE: Rack Hack Back?
CROW: Roger His Be-
MIKE: I think that's enough.

>Newsgroups: alt.sci.time-travel
>Subject: 22nd Message From Future

TOM: The 22nd? Where are the first 21?
CROW: Quiet. Don't give Dr. F. any more ideas.

>Date: Wed, 30 Aug 1995 17:51:59 -0800
>Organization: IslandNet

MIKE: [singing] Islands in the Net, that is all we are...

>Lines: 91
>Message-ID: <rhb-300895...@denman.islandnet.com>
>NNTP-Posting-Host: denman

CROW: Hey, man! It's the Denman!

> .islandnet.com
>
>What follows is one of the eight messages that arrived during my stay in
>hospital. While I still remain in a convalescent ward, I have obtained

MIKE: The complete set of Magic: The Gathering(tm) cards.

>the messages from my secretary and am releasing them to the various
>networks. My change of mind is directly related to

CROW: Being bashed around the head by a brick.
MIKE: [as Richard Briers] I now have a thirty second attention span, and
think ads are more real than life.
TOM: Well, aren't they?

> a visit I have had by
>a rather serious young woman claiming to be the Pauline McKinnon from the
>"Messages From the Future". To make matters worse she was accompanied by

TOM: A ten foot gorilla with a machine gun.

>Ms. JoJo Braun, the private detective I had the misfortune to hire. Ms.
>McKinnon spoke to me in lawyerly qualifications but her message was
>clear-

MIKE: [still as Briers] But not as clear as it could be. New "Spammo"
cleaning fluid gets those whites bright, and those colours white!

> -disassociate myself entirely from the "Messages From the Future" or
>I would suffer consequences. Men of my generation did not back down from
>the Nazi brutes nor the military machine of the Japanese, I'll be damned
>if I'll be intimidated by a lawyer of all people.

TOM: [Nerdy voice] Hello. I'm from Brackham Lawyers, and we're doing a
study on how we intimidate you.

> What follows is the
>22nd message from the future along with some comments my secretary somehow
>felt obliged to include. By the way, the mysterious four have recently
>sent me a near fully contructed Web Page

CROW: But didn;t supply assembling instructions, so I used some cRaZy GlUe.

> to use as a public receptacle for
>their messages and to serve as a forum for discussion. The address is as
>follows (please use no spaces and be attendant to the respective upper and
>lower case): http://www.islandnet.com/~rhb/Future_Page.html -- RHB --

[All get up and try to hide the address from Doctor Forrester.]

>
>Here's a message from these rude young men. It arrived on Mr. B's

TOM: Mr. B Flat?
CROW: Mr. B or not to B?
MIKE: Mr. B Natural?
TOM & CROW: AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

>computer board just like he said it would. I think the problem with these
>young men is that they don't have young women to be keeping them in line.

[Crow opens his beak.]
MIKE: [warningly] No.

>Probably have acne, don't wash and spend all their time inside playing
>those silly games.

TOM: [falsetto] Those women are a disgrace.

> They're right about Mr. B though--he's going to be
>just fine or so the surgeon says--although the doctor not looking much
>more the 15 years old does not inspire much faith.

CROW: [as Doogie Howser] Hello. I'll be your fifthteen year old doctor
tonight.

> I'll close now and put
>this message in Mr. B's disk. -- Miss Dorothy Littlejohn
>
>Hey trogs, we bet you're going to miss old RHB's usual spiel about how
>much he loves us and believes us. Hey, we miss him too. Not to
>worry--the operation was a success. Sorry about that baggy you have to
>wear, RHB

TOM: So this is how people talk in the future?
MIKE: Yep. 'Trogs' is now considered a term of affection.

>
>San Francisco Examiner -- June 19, 2001
>San Francisco -- Several of the city's playhouses and music halls have

TOM: Been destroyed by fire.

>responded to new American with Disabilities Act (ADA) mandated rest room
>laws by scaling back on men's urinals.

CROW: So, there're going to be smaller urinals?
MIKE: Either that or smaller men.

> The ADA was used in a successful
>challenge by irate female theater matrons upset with the twenty minutes
>waits during intermission.

CROW: I take your king with my ADA.

> Because of the longer rest room time needed by
>females (an estimated five times longer than a man for a comparable bodily
>function)

ALL: Eew!

> the ADA ordered an adjustment in the rest room facilities to
>"even the playing field".

CROW: [Annoucer's voice] It's the bottom of the ninth, and the woman need
twenty more minutes than the men.

> Cash strapped theaters responded by tearing out
>men's urinals rather than the costly addition of female cubicles. Many of
>the city's theaters now have only one urinal available to the male
>public. Potted plants have also been removed.

MIKE: Now that's an image I can live without.

>
>New York Times - October 20, 2005
>New York -- Agents of the Justice Department closed down the complete
>Science and Engineering Departments of 36 of the nation's universities.

TOM: But if a university had an incomplete Science and Engineering
Department, they were safe.
CROW: [Acned teenager voice] I'll swap you a Comp Sci for a Biology, and
then I'll have all the Science Departments.

>Citing national security, the President and Attorney General explained
>that the leaders of the illegal underground computer network known as
>SplinterNet

MIKE: SplinterNet: Coming Out Of The Woodwork.

> were thought to have infiltrated the hallowed halls of
>academia.

TOM: Oh no, there's someone in the halls of academia. Kill him!

> Attorney General Pauline McKinnon would not comment except to
>say,

CROW: Bite me.
TOM: Hey, Mike, isn't she the woman that was hassling RHB.
MIKE: Her and Ms. JoJo.

> "I suggest that those students affected, change their majors to
>something in the arts."

CROW: So they change from having no life to having no life. Big change.

> The departments are to remain closed until
>further notice.
>
>Hey, guess what--the feds stopped nuking the Splinternet.

TOM: They finally worked out that they can't hit something that only
virtually exists.

> Carlos says
>it's because they want to use the net to find out who everyone is so they
>can arrest them. So, what's our plan?

CROW: A daylight charge across the minefield!

> Carlos says not to worry--yeah,
>right. Like the net is totally infiltrated. Guess who shows up in the
>general chat this week-

TOM: General G.S. Patton?
CROW: Bob Newhart?
MIKE: Mrs. P. Bottomley?

> -Aunt Polly herself.

ALL: Oh.

> It was hot. The admin gave
>her an avatar that he copied from The Wizard of Oz--you guessed it: the
>wicked witch.

TOM: <Wicked witch voice> "I'm melting, I'm melting."

> Before she can say anything Carlos enters the room--he's
>chosen Charleton Heston as Moses for his avatar (staff, hair, white beard,
>the whole nine yards).

CROW: Nine yards of beard?

> We bring it to you now courtesy of the wormhole.

CROW: Aargh! DS9 is real!

>
>Aunt Polly: By the power vested in me by the people of these United States
>of America, I declare this to be a seditious assembly. All those present
>are guilty of treason and, unless they desist immediately, will be
>punished with the full measure of the law.

MIKE: New from United: Judge Polly staring Sylvester Stallone.

>
>Carlos: Madame, we are simply exercising our

TOM: Fingers, as we take you on in this flame war.

> constitutional rights as
>guaranteed by the First Amendment.

CROW: We didn't have any rights to begin with, so they had to amend some.

>
>Aunt Polly: I regard supporters of the First Amendment as no better than
>pimps for pornographers.

TOM: But pimps deal in prostitution, not pornography.
CROW: I wouldn't mind dealing in both.
TOM: Hey, I'm making a techincal point here. Don't drag it down.
CROW: Bite me.

>
>Carlos: Madame, are you not familiar with the Declaration of Independence.

MIKE: [Carlos] I am because I saw a cartoon all about it on Animaniacs.

>
>Aunt Polly: Don't try to frighten me with the foolish words of a bunch of
>slave-owning dead white males.

CROW: How many slave-owning males do you know that are dead white?
MIKE: I knew a chap once who always looked rather pale...

> I represent the will of the people of the
>United States.
>
>Carlos: You Madame, are a censor. We are the people.

CROW: No, we are the people!
TOM: No, we are the people!
MIKE: No, we are the people!

>
>Aunt Polly: You have all been warned.
>
>What a thoroughly nasty woman.

CROW: [in a bored voice] Oooh, the sarcasm. I'm hurting here.

> Not at all like Mr. Twain's creation,
>although, I trust, there's no relation. That's all for now. I'm off to
>the hospital with some jello I've made for Mr. B. -- Dorothy Littlejohn

CROW: So, has she got a small toilet?
MIKE: I don't think so, Crow.

[Continued in Part 2]

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