MiSTed: Stolen Memories (10/29)
Rottweiler
stage
right.]
CROW: Aaaaaaagh!!! Get her away from me!
MIKE: What's wrong, Brandon Lee?
CROW: It's Muffin! She's on a sexual rampage!
TOM: I'm not sure if I want to know what that means.
CROW: You've gotta hide me!
MIKE: Whaddaya mean? What's going on?
CROW: She keeps being seductive, y'know? Purring... purring. She also
chases string, which is very metaphorical. You can't deny it.
MIKE: I deny it.
TOM: Yeah, me too.
CROW: Okay, so I was wrong there. But she also likes to claw my bed and
chew on me.
MIKE: Crow, she's just a cat. She's doing what cats do.
CROW: You mean--
MIKE: No. You're just looking too much into this. Not everything is a
metaphor.
CROW: Maybe you're right, Mike. But I feel like I'm naked and bound to
a
table, totally vulnerable to being raped by her.
MIKE: Crow, you ARE naked!
CROW: I am? (looks at himself) I AM! Good heavens, man, get me one of
your jumpsuits! Quick, before Muffin impales herself on my
manhood!
MIKE: I've already told you, you don't HAVE a manhood. But if it makes
you
feel better, I'll get you a jumpsuit.
(MIKE exits, stage left)
(MIKE enters, stage left, carrying his forest green jumpsuit)
CROW: Not that one, Mike. I definately don't go with that color.
(Mike stares at Crow for a moment, then exits. He re-enters, with a red
jumpsuit.)
CROW: Well... I suppose that'll have to do. Now hurry up and dress me,
before I'm bitten by Muffin!
(MIKE starts putting the jumpsuit on CROW)
CROW: Oh, the ache in my manhood is becoming unbearable!
MIKE: Crow, you're becoming a little neurotic.
CROW: You saw the same thing I did. We saw what de Sade did to Julian.
We
saw bestiality combined with rape. We saw everything good and
beautiful in the universe being squashed like a bug. AND YOU
CHASTISE ME FOR BEING A LITTLE NEUROTIC?!?
(MIKE gets the lower half of the jumpsuit on CROW's legs)
MIKE: Would it numb the effects of reading today's fanfic if I told you
there was such a thing as _Home Improvement_ slash?
CROW: Not even a crossover between _The Dukes of Hazzard_ and _Doctor
Who_
written by David Gonterman could numb the pain of _Stolen
Memories_.
(MIKE finishes putting the jumpsuit on CROW)
MIKE: Is that better?
CROW: Much.
MIKE: Well, you really went over the top this time, so I'm going to have
to
play my most disturbing clip of what the Mads do when they're not
torturing us. Hopefully that will help the audience forget what
you've done. Cambot, play Pearl-1.
[Castle Forrester. PEARL is wearing a bikini and acting like a woman in
a
phone sex ad you might see if you're awake at 3 AM and watching TV.
She's
gyrating, rubbing various parts of her body, etc.]
PEARL: (singing) Pick up the phone... we could have a really good
time...
(There's a second of static, then we see Castle Forrester again. PEARL
and
OBSERVER are present.)
PEARL: (to the camera) I wasn't going to make you read any more of
today's
story, Nelson, but not after what you just did. I'm extremely
disappointed. Now go to the theater and think about what you've
done.
[SOL Bridge. Lights flash, sirens blare, movie sign pandemonium.]
MIKE: We've got fanfic sign!
TOM: Yeah, thanks to YOU!
[Dog Bone]
[Door 6]
[Door 5]
[Door 4]
[Door 3]
[Door 2]
[Door 1]
[SOL Theater. MIKE and the BOTS enter and take their seats.]
MIKE: Sorry, guys.
> ***********************************************
TOM: Stars In This Fanfic Like Grains of Sand.
> Julian awoke startled as a soft mist falling on his skin
> that made it tingle all over.
CROW: And yet, he hasn't noticed the vicious MiST that's been falling on
him since the beginning of the story.
> His startlement increased as
> he realised,
MIKE: That "startlement" isn't a word.
> the pain that had been a constant companion
> over the last.. three-four days was gone completely.
TOM: Not even pain will hang out with him for long.
> He felt
> invigorated and for a brief moment imagined, he'd been found
> and rescued.
CROW: And that William Shatner was narrating said rescue.
> Then he opened his eyes to pure darkness and
> tried to stretch to discover he was still bound in the same
> uncomfortable position.
MIKE: And those nipple clamps were starting to itch like crazy.
> "Ah, so, you're awake at last good."
TOM: That's a funny way of distributing commas.
MIKE: (Julian) Oh no. I'm in a WWII movie and I've been captured by the
Japanese.
> He tried to open his mouth, and found he could.
CROW: Unfortunately for us.
> When he
> tried to speak, he found that he couldn't.
CROW: Fortunately for us!
> All that came out
> was a dry croak.
TOM: Julian Bashir IS Kermit the frog!
> Water streamed in and he drank thirstily.
MIKE: Isn't Thirstily a new sports drink?
> Once his thirst was slaked the water stopped.
CROW: His thirst is made of lime?
> "I have had a medic attend to you.
TOM: If you can call Doctor Dolittle a medic.
> She said, the drugs
> would kill you if I used them any longer."
ALL: Use them longer!
> Julian wondered if that was necessarily good news.
MIKE: Well, is it no news?
> "I had planned to kill you at this stage."
CROW: (de Sade) Instead, I've decided to make you stronger.
> Cold sweat broke out over his body and trickled down his
> spine.
TOM: Doesn't Julian have hot and cold running sweat?
> "But, I might be convinced to change my mind, manling.
MIKE: (de Sade) To be honest, I'm getting tired of having Ted Bundy's
mind.
> I
> enjoyed mating with you," She purred.
TOM: She must be REALLY desperate!
> Julian wished he had the courage to tell her what he
> thought of it.
CROW: But being the emasculated coward that he was, he kept quiet.
> "But, so far, the mating hasn't resulted in what it was
> supposed to achieve.
MIKE: Then it must NOT have been intended to drive the reader insane!
> I want kitlets.
TOM: (singing) You can't always get what you want...
> You can supply them.
CROW: (de Sade) And at wholesale, too.
> You will from this point on do what I tell you when I tell
> you.
MIKE: De Sade IS Marrissa Picard!
> When I tell you to serve, you will serve," She
> continued.
TOM: It all comes back to that failed tennis career, doesn't it?
> Fury swept through him fanning the spark of defiance into
> a roaring flame.
CROW: I got burned out on that metaphor.
> "Go to Hell."
MIKE: Or at least Purgatory!
> "I'll see you there first manling..
TOM: (de Sade) If I knew what Hell was.
> But before then.. Id
> suggest you reconsider..."
CROW: Notice she's not ORDERING him to reconsider. She's just
SUGGESTING
he reconsider.
TOM: She must have read _The Thirty Minute Manager_.
> "I'd rather die."
> "It can be arranged."
CROW: Villain cliche #743.
MIKE: (de Sade) I'll just take you to the vet and have you put to sleep.
> The faint sounds of a door opening and several people
> entering the room reached Julian's ears.
TOM: Bravo! A brilliant retelling of a scene from _A Night at the
Opera_!
CROW: Honk!
> "Ah, excellent, that will be all," She said.
CROW: (de Sade) We'll have more cliche-ridden dialogue later.
> He heard someone leave the room and the door closed once
> more.
TOM: Now he was alone on AIM.
> She was silent.
CROW: Just what we need; a soulless, sadistic MIME!
> He could hear sounds of moment through
> out the room,
MIKE: Just what would a moment sound like?
TOM: Um, I think it's kind of like a soft jiffy.
CROW: No, it's more like a muffled, high-pitched while.
> several people were approaching his location.
> As they drew closer he could make out the sound of them
> sniffing at the air.
MIKE: (bass) Human! You will tell us - did you beef?!?
> Then they were beside him, over him,
> sniffing and touching him.
TOM: Is he ripe enough?
> Goose bumps rose over his flesh.
CROW: Wow, there are books levitating over him?
> Another trickle of sweat ran down his spine.
MIKE: It sounds like there's a bobsled competition being held on his
back.
> He didn't even
> want to think about just who was sniffing and touching him.
TOM: For all he knew, it could've been Trent Lott.
> He could feel fur, so he knew it wasn't *Her*.
CROW: But it might be *Her* or *Her* or possibly even *Lisa*.
TOM: Maybe it's Enkidu.
> "Are you quite sure you won't reconsider, this is you're
> very last chance.
MIKE: (Julian) For the last time, I don't want to go to the prom with
you!
> Submit to my will ... Or pay the price.
CROW: (de Sade) $19.95, plus shipping and handling.
TOM: (Julian) Let me get my wallet...
> And it wont be death.. At least.. Not yet."
MIKE: It won't be death until... NOW!
> He heard a soft growl.
CROW: Roy Orbison was nearby.
> Several soft growls.
CROW: Several Roy Orbisons were nearby.
> The hands
> touching his body seemed to be everywhere,
TOM: He's being fondled by Vishnu!
> then one of the
> people touched his genitals making him jump.
MIKE: (Julian) Ooh, you've got cold hands!
> `It cant get any worse than its already been.
CROW: That'll be our motto for the rest of the fanfic.
> Without the
> drugs, it won't hurt so much.' He thought.
MIKE: Great, the fanfic is turning into one of those anti-drug ads.
> "You can force me to do what you want through drugs and
> torture, but you can't make me do it of my own free will,"
TOM: Of course, that statement presumes the existence of free will...
MIKE: Save the philosophy for someone who cares.
> he answered her defiantly.
CROW: Which makes sense, seeing as he's from DS9...
> "I thought you'd say that."
TOM: God, how predictably boring.
> The hand on his genitals moved over his man hood and down
> to the jewels below curious.
MIKE: Sapphires, emeralds, rubies, diamonds...
> Then they move lower finding
> his back passage, fingers began to explore it making him
> gasp.
TOM: Squeal like a pig, boy!
> She chuckled.
CROW: She just remembered a really funny "They'll Do It Everytime"
cartoon.
> Those fingers had short nails.
CROW: So he's not being molested by ancient Chinese aristocrats.
> Julian
> knew only the men had short nails,
MIKE: (Steve Martin) Those aren't pillows! AHHHHHHHHH!!!
> cut back to prevent them
> scratching the women.
TOM: Yet they have barbed genitals.
> He wanted to scream when he realised
> the hands touching him belonged to several Felistian males.
CROW: I wonder what Julian would tell the world if he could tell it just
one thing.
MIKE: Probably that we're all okay.
TOM: Well, not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful, and useless in times
like
these.
> He managed to choke it back knowing that she wanted to hear
> him scream, that's why shed removed the gag.
MIKE: (Julian) Do you expect me to talk?
CROW: (de Sade) No, Mr. Bashir, I expect you to SCREAM!
> He wasn't going
> to give her the satisfaction.
TOM: The pure chewing satisfaction.
> Instead as the fingers moved
> within him he whimpered.
TOM: A short teaser from the upcoming _Star Trek: Deep Space
Proctologists_
series.
> "You had your chance to submit, you threw it away, if
> you're lucky I might offer it to another day.. Have fun
> boys,"
MIKE: Although with Julian, I wouldn't count on it being too much fun.
> She said her voice getting further away with every
> moment,
TOM: (de Sade) I'm going to go write _120 Days of Sodom_.
> then she laughed, triumphant and malicious.
CROW: Right about now, the Great Old Ones are starting to look like nice
guys.
> Julian heard the door opening again at the same time as
> the fingers were replaced by something he didn't want to
> even think about as one of the males impaled him.
TOM: Aslan, NO!
CROW: I'm just going to assume that this is turning into a _Highlander_
crossover and that right now Julian's got a blade in his stomach.
> Then the male began moving inside him and he began
> fighting the bands holding him in place frantically.
MIKE: He began fighting the Rollins band and Pantera.
> His
> teeth clenched, he tried not to
TOM: Projectile vomit?
CROW: Don't mind if I do.
(CROW leans forward and mimes vomiting)
> scream as the barbs on its
> hot throbbing member caught on the sensitive flesh in his
> back passage, then began to tear at it.
MIKE: Come on Julian, It's no worse than when you got that pencil stuck
back there! Take it like a man... ling.
CROW: Yep, Julian's going to be shouting "There can be only one!" any
second now...
> He heard the door
> close.
MIKE: Finally, she's gone. Can you believe Jules actually wanted her as
a
sister-in-law?
> His struggles to escape excited the male raping him
> and he increased his thrusts, going deeper, increasing his
> pace.
TOM: I never thought Toonces would turn out like this!
CROW: Quickenings and Watchers are afoot...
> Julian began screaming them.
MIKE and TOM: Them! Them!
> His struggles causing the
> bands to strip away flesh where they held him tight.
TOM: Boy, those Felistian band-aids are REALLY strong.
CROW: Oh, who am I kidding? It's not a Highlander crossover! Julian's
being raped! (starts crying)
MIKE: There there, Crow.
(CROW continues to sob)
> His scream rose higher, keening, as the male tore through
> his flesh departing to be replaced by another.
MIKE: Wow! I had no idea that the director's version of _Cats_ would be
like this!
(TOM starts whimpering)
> This one
> stretched his back passage as he entered.
TOM: I must not fear. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death
that brings total obliteration.
> His movements
> escalated the agony Julian felt as with each through came
> new injury and greater pain.
MIKE: (Julian) This is worse than the time that other alien race gave me
an
anal probe.
TOM: I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through
me.
> The growls of the males increased, they were fighting
> over him.
MIKE: Uh, Red? There's an angry mob on alt.fan.furry that would like to
have a word with you...
TOM: And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its
path.
> He lost count of the number of times one was
> replaced by another.
TOM: Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will
remain. I
must no-- ARGH!!! I can't take any more of this!
CROW: Me neither!!!
MIKE: Come on, guys, it's not that bad. We can make it. But we have to
riff. It's the only way to survive.
BOTS: Okay.
> He lost his voice from screaming.
TOM: Throat lozenges were added to the IV mix.
MIKE: That's the spirit.
> Then
> he lost his mind.
CROW: Then he lost his keys. It was a lousy day.
MIKE: That's it. Keep 'em coming.
> Sinking into oblivion praying as he did,
> that he would never wake up.
MIKE: Brought to you by Dog Fancy.
> ***********************************
CROW: AH! It's one of those barbed penises!
(CROW hides under his seat)
MIKE: Oh, great...
> *She* returned to find Julian utterly limp in his
> bindings, catatonic, in deep shock.
TOM: He had watched _Star Trek V: The Final Frontier_.
> She clammy assessed the
> damage.
MIKE: "Clammy assessed"? Are you implying that she was clammy and some
sort of insurance agent?
> Most he'd inflicted on himself with his frantic
> struggles to escape.
CROW: Can I come up now?
MIKE: Yes, Crow.
(CROW returns to his seat)
> She noted the raw, swollen skin,
> streaked with blood, his blood around the bands and his
> between his legs.
CROW: Felistians ate my balls.
MIKE: That was really crude.
CROW: I was just impersonating a bottle of Orbitz!
> His eyes were wide open, unfocused and
> unseeing as he whimpered and sobbed.
TOM: Isn't this _Star Trek_? Can't he beam up or something?
> Dark smudges ringed his
> red rimmed eyes making them appear enormous in his deathly
> pale face-skin taunt across his bones.
MIKE: Hey, he's Marilyn Manson!
> His skin was cold and
> clammy to touch streaked with sweat and blood. He didn't
> breathe so much as drag in breath to keep up the endless
> litany of whimpers and sobs.
CROW: (Julian) Just... caught... glimpse... of... UPN... schedule!
> In her view, he was now thoroughly broken in.
TOM: In his view, his keister hurt like hell.
> She doubted
> he'd defy her again.
MIKE: Then again, accumulated knowledge isn't Julian's strong suit.
> Now he knew the price of that defiance
> was to become a play thing for her `pets.
CROW: So the mere mention of goldfish will send Julian into a tizzy?
> He'd be putty in
TOM: Pink.
> her hands, obeying her every command, submitting to her
> every whim.
MIKE: Kind of like the average husband.
> The very mention of her pets would be enough to
> ensure that.
CROW: And if that didn't work, she'd bring out THE COMFY CHAIR!
> With a smile she pulled a hypodermic needle from her
> skirts and injected him.
TOM: I wonder how many skirts she's wearing.
MIKE: Victorians... IN SPACE!
> Slowly the whimpers and sobs ended
> and he fell into a deep sleep-on the verge of a coma.
CROW: Why didn't she just force him to watch MTV? The effect is the
same.
> *********************************************
> END OF "STOLEN MEMORIES" - PART THREE
> *************************************
MIKE: And not a second too soon, either!
TOM: (singing) A Red Skye at night may be a shepherd's delight,
But she's cutting chunks from our hearts.
>
> The story "Stolen Memories" is a multi-part story that
> runs concurrently with "The Hunted".
CROW: Which hopefully isn't as evil!
>
> _____________________________________
>
> Standard disclaimers apply. Characters
> copyrighted by Paramount. Alis, Alistair
> and Felistians are copyrighted to Mission
> Ops Productions. Reprinting this story in
> whole or in part is denied without the
> permission of Mission Ops Productions
> first - except in cases of review.
> Copyright @ 1995 Mission Ops Productions.
>
> Send your comments to: hen...@zip.com.au
> ____________________________________________________
(TOM hovers onto MIKE's lap)
TOM: (crying) Mike, I'm scared.
(MIKE puts his arms around TOM)
MIKE: We all are. Come on, let's get back to the bridge.
TOM: (still crying) Okay.
(MIKE picks TOM up and ALL leave the theater)
[Door 1]
[Door 2]
[Door 3]
[Door 4]
[Door 5]
[Door 6]
[Dog Bone]
[SOL Bridge. With their backs toward us, TOM and CROW are staring at a
poster which is taped to the dog bome behind the counter. It's a photo
of
William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy in their classic "Star Trek" outfits.
The BOTS speak in brain-dead monotones, like elementary school students
reciting the states and capitols from memory.]
TOM: DeForest Kelly.
CROW: Lt. Uhura.
TOM: Space, the final frotier.
CROW: Captain's Log.
TOM: "Dammit, Jim..."
CROW: "...I'm a doctor."
TOM: New worlds.
CROW: New civilizations.
BOTS: Janice Rand.
TOM: Highly illogical.
CROW: Tribbles.
TOM: Ricardo Montalban.
CROW: Ensign Chekov.
(TOM and CROW continue in this ping-pong manner as MIKE sneaks in and
faces
CAMBOT. MIKE talks over TOM and CROW's dialogue, which does not cease
or
even pause. We hear it only as background noise during MIKE's following
speech, which is delivered in a hushed tone.)
MIKE: Hi. As you might have guessed, Tom and Crow are trying to cope
with
the horror that is _Stolen Memories_ by concentrating on pleasant
memories of _Star Trek_ when it was innocent, happy-go-lucky, and
refreshingly free of inter-species rape. They're both on the
verge
of total emotional collapse right now, so I think I'll mess with
their minds a little. Here's a little trick I learned from a
correspondence course in subliminal messages.
(We now hear TOM and CROW's dialogue loud and clear once again)
TOM: Dilithium crystals.
CROW: Warp drive.
TOM: Phasers.
CROW: Beam me up.
(MIKE cups his hand to his mouth and tries to throw his voice. The BOTS
don't seem to notice his presence.)
MIKE: (quietly) Julian Bashir.
TOM: To boldly go where no man has gone before.
CROW: Scotty.
TOM: Sulu.
MIKE: (softly) Mission Ops Productions.
CROW: Vulcan death grip.
TOM: The Starship Enterprise.
MIKE: (whispering) Alis.
CROW: Gene Roddenb-- (breaking concentration) GAHHH!!! It's not
working!!!
TOM: What's the matter?
CROW: No matter how hard I try, I just CAN'T shake _Stolen Memories_.
Staring at this poster isn't helping.
TOM: I know what you mean, Crow. It's like there's this little voice in
my
head that keeps reminding me of it.
CROW: You heard a little voice, too? I thought I was going crazy. What
does YOUR little voice say?
TOM: It's been mentioning stuff about _Stolen Memories_, like Alis and
Mission Ops Productions.
CROW: Hey, that's what MY little voice has been saying, too! What a
weird
coincidence.
TOM: That IS a coincidence! Hmmmm, you don't think...?
(Finally, the mental lightbulb goes on. The BOTS turn around slowly to
see
that MIKE was standing behind them the whole time.)
MIKE: (nervously smiling) Uh, hi guys! What's new?
TOM: GET HIM!!!
(TOM and CROW chase after Mike. The three of them exit, stage right.
From
offscreen, we hear glass breaking and furniture being knocked over.
After
a few seconds, MIKE ducks back into the shot.)
MIKE: (frantic) Let this be a lesson - leave the psychological torture
to
the experts!
(MIKE exits, stage left. The BOTS are in hot pursuit. We hear Benny
Hill-type music on the soundtrack. The yellow light flashes. MIKE runs
on-screen.)
MIKE: We'll be right back.
(MIKE runs off-screen, followed by the BOTS)
[Planet Bumper]
> His lungs ached for air, then he was lost.
"Would you believe one of the collaborators was a big, hulking, hairy
man
who dropped out somewhere around Part 3 of _Stolen Memories_? I wonder
why. ;)" -- Red Skye, January 12th, 1997.