[MISTING] "Artifact" - Part 3/3

[Craig J. Clark]

===========================================================================

[Theater. Mike and Crow enter. They find Servo already there, still
wearing his pith helmet.]

>
> "Your light! he oreder.

CROW: When it's Ore-ida, it's all-right-a.

> Joyce handed him the flashlight.
>
> "Oh my god!" he said quietly, his mouth agape. Joyce followed behind him.
> Her eyes turned to half dollars as she began to take in the wonder that
> now befell them.

CROW: $$ Ch-chingg!

> Inside the tomb, appearing to measure a good 50 by 50 feet, and at least
> a hundred feet in height, rested three large statues of Anubus,m

TOM: Was that a half-hearted attempt at a trademark?
MIKE: You're reading too much into these typos.

> encrusted in precious gold, lapis, bronze, and cast in solid bosidian.

CROW: [surfer-dude] Anubus looks totally bodacious in bosidian.

> There were two guardian figures, an a third in the middle, who resembled
> Horus. Joyce approached the walls, they were cobvered with thousands of
> images of daily life, scenes of court activities, hunts, and lesser
> details of the pharoah's life.

TOM: [as Joyce] "There's one of the pharoah eating breakfast. And
the
pharoah going to the bathroom. And..."

> She traced a few with her finger, feeling
> the intricate workmanship and marvelling at the details and stunning
> beauty. Erin was oin the other side of the chamber doing the same. he as
> hard as he could,

CROW: Man, this guy can hold an erection longer than Sting.
MIKE: Crow...

> could not fully fathom the magnitude or th details
> whic he was now experiencing.

TOM: Oh, _what_ a surprise.

> His moth open and his eyes wide, he was
> loist in disbelief that so much could be in one place lagely untouched by
> the sands of time.

CROW: Or, indeed, a spell-checker.

>
> "Joyce, this is the main chamber..it has to be!" he whispered. Joyce
> waked over to him slowly, her eyes transfixed on the intricacies of the
> ceiling reliefs and sculptures. " No- no it isn't Erin, there's no
> sarchopagus." she muttered.

CROW: [as Erin] "Oh, Joyce. Don't be bitter. After all, you still
have
me."
TOM: Small comfort.

> "Joyce look, there has to ne more, there just has to be!" he argued.
> "Erin Tyler listen to me carefully and understand me! This is IT! There
> is no more...this IS the main chamber."

CROW: You just said it WASN'T!

> "No, it can't be...we can't have come all this way for this.. there has
> to be a body...some...some sort of sarcophagus....where the hell is
> Chufas?"

MIKE: Oh, there's another legend. Look: "HAD TO RUN TO THE SEV, BACK
IN A JIF, CHUFAS. P.S.: THEE ART THEE THOU THEE THEE THEE."

> Erin look, it's getting late and really cold in here, lets..lets get
> going, we have more than enough proof now of who he was , and where he's
> at." advised Joyce.

TOM: Yeah, they're really _down_ with Chufas.

> "No. No I'm not leaving without proof..."began Erin. i need something
> totake back to the university, what can you find?" "Erin, this is
> serious. Look, we aren't supposed to be here, and we sure as hell aren't
> supposed to be stealing from the dead!

ALL: But you're ARCHAEOLOGISTS!

> "Rte'' lnever miss it! " shot Erin, his eyes fglowing in luminesance.
> Besides, I need proof we here here, the university thinks I'm in Luxor
> studying Cheops..."

TOM: The rubes.

> "Erin, look, as senior partner on this expedition and resident
> Egyptolgist, I order you to suspend your activities and accompany me back
> to Cairo.

MIKE: Way to pull rank, Joyce.

> "I can't do that Joyce, Not till I have proof!"
> "Erin please" she started, grabbing his hand.
> "Get off me bitch!" he shouted striking ger in the face. Joyce feel to
> the hard tiled floor with a thud, a trickle of blood began to trickle
> from her lips.

TOM: Opening a trapdoor which swallowed both of them up. The end.

> Erin looked at her with indifference.
>
> "You're jealous Joyce, jealous because I found Chufas, NOT you! Me! a
> Wahington husky!!! Another first for UW WAHOOOOO!!!!" he shouted.

MIKE: Man, these characters are so deep.
CROW: You can't help but see the world through their eyes, you know?
TOM: Wait, didn't he go to the University of Indianapolis?
CROW: Hey, you're right. And his mascot was a greyhound! What gives?
MIKE: I smell a second draft. CROW: No way. Typos like "Rte'' l" do
NOT
survive a second draft.

> Many things began to filter through his mind, never did he believe his
> compeptition with his collegiate rival would lead to all of this, least
> ways to cold cocking his partner and friend!

TOM: But boy did it feel good.

> Still Erin believe he had
> work to do- something to prove to everyone else. He looked down at Joyce
> still unconsious and smiled an evil smile.
>
> "I told you Joyce, I'm not leaving without proof!" he spat at her. Erin
> began to search the cahamber. Proof, He needed proof,

MIKE: But this was no time to think about liquor.

> something small
> and manageable, something he could easily hide.

MIKE: Crow, don't even go there.

>
> He approached the altar area of the chamber, in front of the huge statue
> of Horus. Nothing. Wait, what was that, in the corner!

TOM: I don't know. You tell me. _You're_ the freaking author.

> Erin reached down
> and found a small jar, still corked with a bit of resin and alabaster. it
> was about the size of a small vodka bottle.

CROW: Yep. _Now_ we know what the author was on when he wrote this.

> Erin attempted to open
> the bottle. Nothing doing. He cursed himself for leaving t his tools out
> in the land rover, had he known it would tae this log, he would have
> brought them in!

MIKE: Man, the author is really pissed about this.

> Erin fought with the jar a bit more.
> "Damn thing!" he shot, throwing the jar to the ground. he watched as the
> jar shattered into millions of shards. Dust, nothing but dust!

CROW: But it's really exciting dust!

> Erin stooped to stare at the tormentor of his desires.

TOM: So, is he staring at the broken bottle or Joyce now?
MIKE: I'd vote bottle. Joyce doesn't seem like the "tormentor of
desires" type.
CROW: Yeah, she's a little too quick to grasp crotches for that.

> All this way for a
> little jar full of dust! He extended his finger and began to trace in
> gray powder "FUCK EGYPT- FUCK YOU CHUFAS!!!" he shouted.

MIKE: Could the story please make up its mind?

> As he drew in the dust he could slowly feel his throat growing tight.
> "Cough cough cough....ughhh! " he began to himself,

CROW: Wait, he said "cough"?
TOM: Apparently so.
CROW: That's like a dog saying "bark."

> still stewing over
> his lack of "souvenirs". Erin stood up a little, he could feel himself
> growing sick to his stomach. "Fuck what's wrong with me!"

CROW: I think Joyce already has.

> he thought to himself.

MIKE: [sternly] Would you quit thinking so loud.

> He began to wander
> around the chamber
> slowly, his head was beginning to spin and he now felt lightheaded and
> decidedly different that he had before. "Oh shit! " she sputtered,

TOM: Who? Jill?
MIKE: No, she left after the orgy.

> falling to his knees, he opened his mouth to vomit. Instead he began to
> spew blood and fluids, coughing up great clumps of yellow mucous and
> water. "Oh shhhit shhhhiittt!" he began,

CROW: ...and then segued into his rendition of "Tie a Yellow
Ribbon."
TOM: This guy is a talented vomiter.

> feeling cold chils beginning to weaken
> and invade his body. he
> could feel flue like symptoms

TOM: Like being stuck in a chimney.

> coming on, o something like food poisoning
> beginning to rip his system apart,
> "Oh christ make it stop!" he shouted.

CROW: Hey, Erin. I got news for ya. Christ ain't doing this.

> Erin doubled over in pain, he
> could feel his ribs cracking and his bones pushing this way and that. he
> opeed his mouth again to vomit.

MIKE: Because he just couldn't get enough of it.

> great rivers of bodily waste soon began
> to exit his body from both ends, he could feel his penis explode from the
> buildup of pressure, sending a force full stream of urine into his pants.
> Seconds later he lost his bowels and his pants filled with watery
> excrement.

CROW: Hey, did William S. Burroughs ghost-write this?

> "Aghhhh oughhhh aghhh! mmmaaaaa!!!!!" he cried,

MIKE: Hmm, what would Freud say about that outburst?
TOM: Probably something in German, if he weren't dead.

> as his body continued to
> flush itself.

CROW: Couldn't this story flush itself?

> Erin looked down at his hands and feel twitch were
> beginning to burn and swell, he watched with horror as his fingers and
> toes began to retract- his nails lengthened into little scimitars. "Oh
> shit I'm hot!"

MIKE: [as Erin] "The girls will be all over me when I get back to
UW."
TOM: Or the University of Indianapolis. Take your pick.

> he complained, tearing his shirt and pants off, he
> scraped his chest with one malformed hand, five fingers of blood began to
> seep and swell his chest.

MIKE: So he's turning into Freddy Krueger?

> "God what the hell is this ! Oh please somebody HELP ME!!!!!" he
> continued, feeling his chest
> compact and his organ shift.

CROW: Uhh, I don't want to even touch that.

> He screamed as he lost his eyesight and
> hearing. His face began to
> squash up and push out slightly, his nose turning up and retracting.

TOM: Oh, I see. He's just received a large inheritance.

> He could feel his eyes folding
> inward and up and away from the front of his face. Erin tried to breathe
> , finding it difficult to do so, he could feel a tremendous amount of
> pressure in his throat and in his back, his ass felt like it was ready to
> explode!

CROW: Burroughs _did_ ghost-write this!
MIKE: Why do you keeping saying "ghost"?
CROW: Well, he's dead, isn't he?

> A few moments later, Erin again regained control of his
> sight, and peered from one eye

TOM: _After_ it unfolded.

> to catch his reflection in a bronze
> shield.
> "AGHHHHHHH AGHHHHH NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!1"

MIKE: Oops. Looks like he ran through his quota of exclamation
points.

> he bellowed, his screams rising in
> pitch to howls and hisses. He watched as his once human features slowly
> gave way to a more correct feline form. He watched as his ears opened up
> and pushed to the top of his skull, coming to rest on the sides, his
> trianglar ears pitching this way and that, grasping for any sound as
> though they had minds of their own. Erin began to cough again, more
> mucous emitted from his mouth, now a disgusting very animalistic yellow,
> thinned with bile and water. "THIS ISN'T HAPPENING TO ME THIS ISN'T
> HAPPENING TO ME!!!!!!" he

MIKE: But luckily he was able to borrow some from a friend.
TOM: Exclamation points. Another non-renewable resource.

> screamed into the reflection, The twin moon bean eyes glared back at him,
> now wet with moisture-

CROW: Quite unlike human eyes, which are entirely dry and chalky.

> their half slits open to allow the room
> light in. Erin continued to watch as his whiskers began to push from his
> cheeks, and above his eyes. his skin, once tender and rosy pink,

MIKE: "Tender and rosy pink?" Erin just looks less and less rugged
the
more I hear.

> was beginning to carpet itself in a thin layer of black.

TOM: You spoke too soon, Mike! He's more "rugged" now, get it?
MIKE: [says nothing]

> he began to cough
> more as the fur began to envelope his face, throat, and around his eyes.
> He could feel himself being slowly suffocated with the new coat. "I'm-
> allergic....to cats....." he spit into the reflection,

CROW: Oh, how _ironic._

> watching as
> his limbs began to push into
> more feline orientation. he watched as his tail erupted

MIKE: [getting out of his seat] Okay. Now that's over the line. I
have
seen some smutty stuff in my day, but I don't have to sit here
and--
CROW: Mike, I think it's really supposed to be a tail.
MIKE: [sitting down] Oh, well that's all right then.

> and snaked
> between his legs, flicking this way and that.
> Erin attempted to stand. He found he could, but his legs ached and his
> muscle strained as he tried to keep his balance.

TOM: And which muscle would this be?
CROW: Oh, I think you know!

> He got back down,

MIKE: And he got back funky.

> sensing somehow that was where he was meant to be. After minutes of
> agonizing pain, Erin stared down at his new still shifting fingers and
> toes- each now capped in little balls of black fur. He turned then over
> what he still could and inspected the pink pads rising like little loaves
> of bread from his fingertips.

MIKE: I don't want to know where this guy buys his bread.

> Instinctively, and without
> consiousness,

TOM: Ah, so he's fainted, then.

> he brought each one in turn to his face and began to groom
> himself, a long pink sand paper tongue lapping each over and over,
> trying to ease the pain.
> He stared back into the shield, still attempting to make sense of it all.

MIKE: Nearly a decade later, Erin still didn't know who killed Laura
Palmer.

> he stared with facination at the black image across from him, it's
> eyes blinking in undeniable feline intelligence,

CROW: Well, if there's anything more intelligent than Erin, it must
be
a cat.

> betraying a mystery no
> human will ever understand. He opened his mouth to scream one last time
> as his hips shifted, forcing him forever onto four perfectly balanced
> legs, light and springy to the touch. His scream was met with a simple
> meow.

TOM: "Hi, scream. I'm a simple meow. How are you?"
MIKE: Stop.

> Now somewhat facinated by the unknown stranger in the shield, The black
> cat approached t cautiously, allowing feline intellect and device to
> sustain. The cat lifted it's small muzzle and sniffed the metallic
> stranger, whiskers bristling in curiosity. Sensing something of value,
> the cat proceeded to attempt to mount the image. It could feel a marked
> change in it's body, something it hadn't felt before- no penis.

CROW: Clearing up once and for all the gender confusion which has
plagued this story from the outset.
TOM: I told you "Erin" isn't a guy's name. The universe has
restored
order.

> Three hours later, as the sun began to melt

MIKE: ...a small child's ice cream cone...

> into the western Sahara,
> Joyce Ash awoke, still in the

CROW: ...throes of passion. In her dream, she had been tied down by
several Egyptian busboys and--
MIKE: Cut it out, Crow.

> tomb. She quickly discovered she'd been sleeping on a large tile relief
> map of ancient Egypt, with some rather strange markings in sanskrit she'd
> never seen before.

TOM: They said, "You are here."

> She stared at the hieroglyphics
> beneath her. From what she could discern, it told of a cat like people
> who came from the heavens to bring goddess and life to the Egyptian.

MIKE: Which one?

> There was a small figure of a woman with a cat head and a human female
> head in a basket.

CROW: You know, you shouldn't put all your heads in one basket.

> The other figures were as yet unknown to her. She
> wiped her mouth free of the caked blood and felt for the knot on her
> head.

TOM: What, did she try to hang herself?
MIKE: If only.

> "Erin! Erin? Erin where are you!" she called into the chamber. Her reply
> was the luminecant flash of two amber eyes on the altar. Joyce held her
> breath as the cat jumped off the altar and strutted toward her, ears
> lowered in apprehension. She gasped as she saw the black form come
> closer.

CROW: She had never known the love of a black man before. Was it
true
that--
MIKE: I said knock it off.

> Lodged in the center of it's throat

TOM: Was a hairball.

> was the largest piece of the moist
> beautiful jade she'd ever seen.

MIKE: Well, I would expect the jade to be moist if it was...oh,
never
mind.

> "Erin? Is that...you?" she whispered extending a hand.

CROW: Now _that's_ jumping to a major conclusion based on little to
no
evidence.

> Her eyes widened
> as she stroked the cat and allowed it to lick her hand like an old
> friend.

MIKE: "Lick an Old Friend's Hand" -- Tiffany's comeback album.

> The car began to resonate and rub her.

TOM: Now it's turning into a David Cronenberg film.

> Joyce carefully ran her
> hands through the ricj dark coal coat, feeling the small animal for
> imperfections,

MIKE: [as Joyce] "Oh, look. One of your legs is shorter than the
other
one. I guess that means I can sell you for medical experiments
now."

> The jade in it's throat began to reflect the warm light
> as it mewed to her- its eyes pleasing

CROW: Do you find me pleasing?

> for help.

TOM: Next time on ARTIFACT...

> A week later Joyce Ash, weary of her travels and adventures in Egypt ,
> sat tired and alone in the Cairo International airport, eagerly awaiting
> her boarding of a plane bound for England- first stop on the way home.

CROW: Do we really need to know that Joyce's flight has a stopover
in
England?
MIKE: Apparently that's the kind of detail the author thought would
bring an air of realism to an otherwise ludicrous story.
CROW: Oh...

> She sat and debated what
> she would tell the university about Erin. She doubted anyone would
> believe her, or the fact they'd discovered the tomb of an ancient
> astronaut....

TOM: You mean John Glenn? But he isn't dead.

> Thirty minutes later she was in front of the customs desk, watching
> helplessly as the customs agents began to search her personal effects.

MIKE: [as Joyce] "Please, oh please. Don't let them find my hash."

> "Anything to claim today? Any souvenirs artifacts, memorabilia..." the
> agent began.

CROW: ...unzipping Joyce's blouse--
MIKE: Crow, this is the last time I let you read anything even
_vaguely_ pornographic.

> "Just me and my cat...." answered Joyce. The agent peered into the cat
> carrier. "Ah, he is a nice one indeed, " the agent complimented.

TOM: [as agent] "The jade lodged in his throat is a nice touch."
MIKE: Wait. I thought the point was that Erin was now a _female_
cat.
TOM: Hey, if the author doesn't care, then neither do I.

> "Thanks , we 've been everywhere together...." answered Joyce with a
> smile
>
> **************
> Copyright 1997: Ocicat <oce...@gte.net>

TOM: Wait, that's it? The author doesn't even have decency to end
his
story with a freaking period?
CROW: Well, maybe it's not Joyce's time of the month--
MIKE: Crow, I'm not in the mood. Let's just get the hell out of
here.

> All rights reserved- Ocelot studios
> Be kind to cats!

[Ka-thunk...2...3...4...5...6...SoL Bridge]

CROW: Mike, is it just me, or--

MIKE: Yes, it's just you.

CROW: Hey, no fair! You haven't even heard my question yet.

MIKE: True, but knowing you, I'd say it's fair to assume that it's
just you.

CROW: Will you at least hear me out first?

MIKE: Okay, I'll think about it.

CROW: Great. Mike, you know at the end of "ARTIFACT" when the
customs
person makes that remark about Joyce's cat and she says that
they've been _everywhere_ together?

MIKE: Uhh, yes. That was just a minute ago.

CROW: Okay, now is it just me, or was the author sort of implying
that
Joyce and the cat had been intimate with one another?

[There is a short pause while Mike considers this.]

MIKE: You know, I was right the first time. It is just you. Say
Servo,
how are you getting on with that archaeology thing?

CROW: No, wait, Mike. Please let me get to my punchline or else I'm
liable to blow a logic circuit.

MIKE: Maybe later. Now Servo, what have you got there?

TOM: The expedition is progressing swimmingly, Mike. After a
thorough
and painstaking excavation of my room, I have unearthed a
number
of volumes of ancient archaic encyclopedias in the smiley-face
boxers stratum. If you would be so kind, Mike, as to take that
lint roller there...

MIKE: Ah, okay... [does so]

CROW: It's just that this story was supposedly written by an ocelot
and--

MIKE: I said later, Crow, I'm helping Servo with his archaeology
stuff. Now what am I doing here, Tom?

TOM: Simply take one of the volumes from the stack in front of me,
and carefully remove the lint of the epochs from its spine.

MIKE: Ah! [Makes quick but careful work of the task] Wow, Tom, it
looks like you've got Volume Four, HER through KLO.

TOM: Ooh! Ooh! That's excellent! Do the next one! Do the next one!

CROW: And an ocelot is actually a kind of cat so--

MIKE: [continuing to ignore Crow] Hmm, looks like Volume Elev--no,
it's Twelve...

TOM: What is it? What is it? Is it the Z's? I love the Z's!

MIKE: No, but you're close: URA through WOO.

TOM: Wow! This is an incredible find, Mike! You see, every fragment
gives us clues about the nature of the whole set.

MIKE: Really? Like what?

[Crow, meanwhile, is becoming increasingly jittery and beginning to emit
smoke.]

TOM: Well, from what we've catalogued so far, we can extrapolate
that
Volumes Five through Eleven contain subjects ranging from
Klutziness to Upset Stomachs.

MIKE: Wow, you really know your stuff.

TOM: That's why I'm the archaeologist.

CROW: WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY WAS, "IS THAT WHAT THEY MEAN BY KITTY
PORN ON THE INTERNET?" HA HA! HA HA! WASN'T THAT FUNNY? WELL,
I
THINK I'LL GO LIE DOWN NOW. GOODBYE!

[And he stumbles off, a smoking, jittery mess. Mike watches him go.]

MIKE: Whoa. Guess I should have let him finish his little joke.

TOM: You want to dust off the last one there, Mike?

MIKE: Oh! Sure. Hmm... Volume Nine -- Q.

TOM: Q to what?

MIKE: Just Q.

TOM: How odd.

[The light flashes.]

MIKE: Oh, Castle Wolfenstein is calling. [taps the light]

[CF]

DR.F: Yes, Mike, I've made something of a discovery of my own...
I've
been having a chat with Observer and Professor Bobo here, and
we
seem to have reached a rather interesting conclusion. Now,
Professor, you were telling me that my late mother treated you
like an ignorant monkey from the very moment she met you.

BOBO: That's correct, Dr. Forrester.

DR.F: And even though you hold degrees in several disciplines, and
had
tenure at your planet's leading university for many years, my
mother somehow compelled you to behave as foolishly as she
expected you to.

BOBO: Sad but true. I was acting like a complete buffoon, and I
didn't
even know why. For Pete's sake, I don't even like bananas.

DR.F: And you, Observer, an Omnipotent Being, found yourself in the
same situation.

OBSERVER: Quite right. I'm terribly ashamed.

DR.F: I sense that we're on to something very significant here. If I
could somehow harness this effect, I could make everyone on
this planet behave exactly as I expect them to. Why, this
could
be the key to world domination that I've been searching for
all
these years.

OBSERVER: Might I suggest that the medium of television is an ideal
vehicle for this phenomenon. It has, in fact, been used this
way
in the past, with great success.

DR.F: Fascinating, Mr. Observer. Continue.

OBSERVER: What? Oh, I'm sorry, this is usually the point at which Pearl
would strike me for being insubordinate and then claim my idea
as
her own.

DR.F: There will be time for that later. Please, go on.

OBSERVER: Well, we could devise an entertainment program of sorts to
draw
in viewers, who could then be subject to your control.

DR.F: Hmm, I like this idea. The problem is how to reach beyond the
confines of basic cable.

[Dr. Forrester ponders this for a few moments.]

DR.F: I clearly need some time to think about this. First order of
business, though. Observer, could you install a button to be
pushed at the end of every transmission?

OBSERVER: Will do.

[SFX: Observer puts hand to his head to illustrate that he is doing
something with his mind beyond the comprehension of mere mortals.]

OBSERVER: Done.

DR.F: Wonderful. Push the button, Professor Bobo.

BOBO: What, why me?

DR.F: Just push it, monkey-boy.

BOBO: Oo! Oh! Okay.

\ | /
\ | /
---o---
/ | \
/ | \

<fwshhhh>

MSTed by Kevin Pease <ma...@cerulean.st>
and Craig J. Clark <cjc...@earthlink.net>

Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters, situations, and other
such things are copyright 1994 Best Brains, Inc. This MSTing is not
authorized, endorsed, or supported by anyone, but it is Y2K compliant.
This
article may be freely distributed as long as this notice remains intact.
No
undue disrespect is intended to the author of "ARTIFACT." Keep 'em
coming,
we say.

Everything else is copyright 1999 by Kevin Pease and Craig J. Clark, so
there.

> "Rte'' lnever miss it! " shot Erin, his eyes fglowing in luminesance.

===========================================================================

There it is. This is our first misting and I hope it brought joy and
only a certain amount of pain to all.

Craig J. Clark
cjclark@earthlink