MSTed: A Galaxy Far Away (4 1/2 and really last)

[Amy Ashton]

>"The tractor projector is...was over there," Han pointed seeing the
>gaping hole in the side of the main docking bay.

CROW: Now it's gah-bage!

>"The damage to
>shields and structure there should be severe enough that the
>_Enterprise_ can get a lock to transport us back," Data concurred.
>"Getting there is going to be tricky." "Where does this panel lead?"
>"Service ducts,

MIKE: Ducks in the Navy!
CROW: Um, I think that's "ducts."
MIKE: Who cares? It gives us a chance to sing a Village People song.
CROW: Well, in that case...
ALL: [singing] In the Navy! You can serve your fellow man....

>they criss-cross the ship," Han said looking at the
>door near the floor. "I thought about it. They're too tough to open
>and we can't risk blasting it open with all of these troops around."

TOM: [as Data] Why not? You've blasted everything else? [muttering]
Alien idiot.

>"We do not need to blast it," Data said crouching down in front of it.
>He moved his fingers into the slight crack and pulled the doors apart
>with ease. Han looked on in amazement, a grin crossing his face.

MIKE: [as Han] I've got this jar of spaghetti sauce at home, can't
get the lid off it. Think you could come over later?

>"Nice." The five of them crawled into the duct way and began
>crawling.

TOM: [as Han] Crawl like you've never crawled before! Crawl
until you can crawl no more!

>Data closed the high pressure doors behind them.

CROW: One two three four press-SHAH!

> * * *
>"I see them," Leia called as she blasted the remaining two TIEs to
>pieces. "Lando, do you have a reading on that shield?" she asked into
>her headset.

TOM: [as Lando] Yes, it's going to be some college kid reading
"Two Tramps in Mud Time." I say we skip it and go clubbing.

>"It's almost down," He answered back, Pulling hard right
>and firing onto the generators some more just as two more of the
>_Enterprise_'s photon torpedoes exploded on them, finally knocking
>them out. "It's down!" he yelled and looped the _Falcon_ up and back
>down firing a volley of concussion missiles and the bridge.

CROW: That paragraph's just a a downer.

> * * *
>"We have a positive lock," Geordie's voice came over Data's commbadge.
>"Prepare five for transpor..." "Hold it," Han cut him off. He was
>looking out into the hangar bay. They were pulling something out of
>some sort of pod.

TOM: You know, they think they would've learned not to do that
after _Alien_.

>Han saw the orange suit and new what it was, or who
>it was.

MIKE: [as Han] The fiends! They've captured Liberace!

>"It's Wedge," He muttered under his breath. He turned to the
>others. "They've got Wedge. I've got to get him. You guys go ahead.
>I'll be alright."

CROW: [as Han] Meet you at Subway later, 'kay?

>He turned and left before anyone could argue. "Four
>to transport," Data spoke again. They four dematerialized and
>vanished. Just as they did so, four stormtroopers took up guard
>position around Wedge's repulsor-bed.

CROW: I...
MIKE: Crow...
CROW: Don't worry. Even I can't come up with anything to
say to that.

>They began to move it. Han
>turned to ready an ambush when he heard a familiar hum.

MIKE: [as Han] I *hate* it when Leia hums Suzanne Vega songs
in the shower!

>He looked down
>and on the floor was a hypo and PADD with a commbadge attached. He
>picked it up. "This is a hypospray to revive Cmdr Antilles. -Good
>luck, _Enterprise_."

MIKE: [falsetto] Meet me behind the bleachers after practice.
Love, Leia.
TOM: Geez louise, why don't they send something useful, like
a battalion of heavily armed Marines?

>Han smiled stuck the hypo in his pocket,

CROW: ... accidently injected the hypospray into his hip and
died. The end.

>and
>headed off,trying to decide if his luck would hold out.

MIKE: I'd go with "not."

> * * *
>"He had to go after the other fighter pilot," Worf explained as Bev
>sealed his wound.

MIKE: Handy Ziplock skin! Keeps Worf from freezer burn, too.

>"He is loyal isn't he? You're lucky you had this
>armor. Those blasters are nasty." "He is very courageous and is a
>cunning warrior," Worf said with much respect. "He will succeed."

TOM: [as Worf] He will go. He will fight. He will win.

>"I
>concur," Data added, removing his stormtrooper Gauntlets. "He seems
>to have an incredible amount of what most call luck."

TOM: [as Data] ...but we call "stupidity."

>Bev laughed and
>rolled Worf's sleeve down. "You're all set." Her commbadge bleeped and
>she tapped it. "Is everything alright down there?" Picard's voice
>asked.

MIKE: You kids be careful down there!

>"General Solo stayed behind to attempt to rescue their downed
>pilot their downed pilot,"

CROW: It's deja vu all over again.

>she responded. "Understood, Picard out."
>Bev moved to the two biobeds where Kira and O'Brien were lying.

TOM: [as Crusher] These two couldn't tell the truth if they
tried.

>She
>looked at her tricorder and at both patients. "You'll both be fine.
>There was no permanent damage,

MIKE: [as Crusher] ... and the screaming nightmares should subside
in, oh, five, ten years.

>it will take a few days for your
>neuro-transmitter activity to return to normal. Thank heavens their
>mind-sifter must have been on a low setting, it showed signs of being
>able to do serious damage."

CROW: Not that you'd be able to tell or anything.

> * * *
>"This may be your only chance, General," Picard said. "I know," Lando
>said over the speaker, "I just hate leaving Han on that ship." "I
>understand. The Star Destroyer will probably follow you, perhaps in
>your own galaxy you can continue the fight, but

TOM: [as Picard] ...quite honestly, we're late for a dinner, and
we can't stick around here and play any more.

>according to our best
>calculations, the hyperwormhole won't last much longer. We will
>transmit the coordinates we have extrapolated from your computer that
>will be safest for your jump. Make the jump ten seconds after the
>torpedo jumps. The explosion and shock wave should have dissipated
>by then." "Understood, _Falcon_ out." "Mr. LaForge," Picard turned
>to Ops. "Is our hypertorpedo ready?"

CROW: Hypertorpedo?
TOM: Maybe it's a giant Ritalin pill.

>"Yes, sir." "Fire at will."
> * * *
>"I know, I don't like it either, but he'll be okay. He's always okay.
>He's the luckiest son-of-a-gun I know." Leia heaved a sigh, darkness
>on her face.

MIKE: She really should bathe more often.

>"I know," she said not really believing it. The torpedo
>shot from the _Enterprise_ and disappeared into hyperspace. Lando
>looked at Chewbacca who was sulking.

CROW: [as Leia] Oh, here's a Milkbone. Quit pouting.

>Three-two-one. Lando pulled
>the levers and the stars went to starlines, Chewbacca roared.
> * * *
>Han stuck his head out of the ramp of the shuttle. Just about there.
>He started down the ramp. "Where are you taking this prisoner?"

TOM: Prisoner transfer from cellblock --

[Mike claps a hand over Tom's mouth.]

TOM: Mmmmph! MMMMMMMPH!
CROW: Heh. We warned you.
TOM: MMMMph!
MIKE: Watch it, Crow, or you're next.

>he
>barked trying to sound authoritarian. "Sickbay," one of the officers
>replied. "No, he needs to be questioned! Why isn't he restrained?" he
>grabbed Wedge's collar with one hand and put the hypo in his arm.
>Wedge shook his head and blinked his eyes open. "Look out!"

MIKE: Tom, you think you can face that line without making
a Star Wars ref?
TOM: [meekly] Mmmmmph.
MIKE: Okay. [releases Tom]

>Han
>spun around punching out the officer and pulling Wedge off the bed,
>and under the ramp of the shuttle, dropping a sonic grenade as he did
>so.

CROW: According to my count, Han must have at least three
arms.

>The grenade knocked all of the guards out, but alerted everyone in
>the hangar. Han dragged the sluggish Wedge up the ramp into the shuttle
>and slapped the bulkhead control and ramp retract.
> * * *
>"Sir, we have the coordinates that the ship jumped to. Shall I set
>course?"

TOM: [as Captain] Just as soon as you can repeat that without
ending your sentence with a preposition, young man!

>"Yes, Lt.," Drekker nodded, but was watching a report of a
>disturbance in the Main Hangar bay. "Set the pursuit course. I'll
>inform Lord Vader." "Inform me of what," Vader's voice boomed over
>his shoulder as it did all too often. For someone with that loud of
>breathing, Drekker thought, You'd think I'd notice him behind me.

TOM: Nope.
MIKE: Not really.
CROW: We wouldn't, anyway.

>"The
>rebels have jumped into hyperspace, but

MIKE: [as lieutenant] ... they didn't complete the rotation. They'll
get a deduction for that.

>we have the coordinates that
>they jumped to. This may be a chance to get back to our own galaxy,
>and finally catch them." Vader looked out of the window, and then at
>the report of a shuttle being stolen coming up on the monitor. He
>nodded. "Yes, make the jump to hyperspace now."
> * * *
>"Sir there is a tremendous power buildup in the _Nosferatu_," Geordie
>commented just as it disappeared with a flicker of pseudo-motion.

ALL: [singing] Su-su-su-sudio!

>"It
>appears that they have made the jump to hyperspace, They must have
>decoded the coordinates we sent to the _Falcon_." "Probably, I hope
>that everything will be okay for them," Riker added.

MIKE: [as Riker] They're a really cute couple.

> "Wait a minute,
>what's this?" Geordie looked at the scanners. "It's a ship."

TOM: [as Riker] Well, if you knew, why'd you ask?

>"Sir, we
>are being hailed," Worf said. "On screen," Picard answered. Han's
>image appeared on the screen.

CROW: His body was somewhere in New Mexico.

>he was still wearing the Imperial
>uniform, but it was opened and torn.

TOM: [as Picard] Uh, General... XYZ. Barn door. You know.

>"Good afternoon, Captain. Where
>did everybody go?"

MIKE: [as Picard] You mean no one told you about the meeting?

>"General!" Picard stood. "Good to see that you got
>away. We'll send you the jump coordinates." Geordie began to send the
>coordinates. "Good. Thanks for all of your help, I'll send you all
>medals when I get back.

TOM: [as Picard] Oh great, bloody lot of good *that'll* do us.

>Got the coordinates. Wedge! Punch these in and
>get ready to go. Again, I can't thank you enough. Tydirium out..." Han
>began to turn, but Picard interrupted. "Uh...General Solo, May the
>Force be with you,"

MIKE: [as Picard] ... or whatever.

>Picard said with a smile. Han grinned, "Thanks,
>I'll tell him!

CROW: The Force is a he?!
TOM: I always thought of it as a neuter, myself.
MIKE: I don't know, I saw a lot of feminine qualities in it.

>Solo out." Han's image was replaced by the image of
>the Imperial shuttle, and then it too was gone. Picard heaved a sigh
>and tugged at his tunic. "Set course for the wormhole." "Course set."
>"Engage."
>
>Finis.

TOM: Finally.
MIKE: Let's go, guys.

[Exeunt]

MIKE: Well, guys, what lessons do you think we can learn
from today's experiment?
CROW: Sheesh, Mike, who died and made you principal?
TOM: Yeah. Woo-hoo!
MIKE: Oh, come on, guys. I'm just trying to make up for your
lack of education and exposure to great literature and art during
our period of forced captivity. Play along, please?
TOM: Oh, fine. I learned that you should leave the technobabble
to the experts.
MIKE: Okay, that's good, Tom. Crow?
CROW: Umm... all fanfic writers should be summarily
executed?
MIKE: Er... I don't think that would be very good for our careers,
Crow.
CROW: Okay. Umm... never take a good premise and push it
too far?
MIKE: Well... yeah! Yeah, that's good, Crow.
CROW: All right! Slap me five, Tommy-boy. Oh, sorry. Forgot
about the arm thing.

[GYPSY enters]

GYPSY: What about what I learned?
MIKE: Well... sure, Gyps. What'd you learn today?
GYPSY: I learned that a little kindness goes a long way. I
learned that frienship is the most important thing in the
galaxy, especially when you're marooned in the cold, vast
reaches of space. I learned that vinegar and water is a good
substitute for window cleaner. I learned that Tom has a collection
of old Speed Racer tapes in his room that he isn't sharing.
TOM: Hey!
GYPSY: [overriding Tom] I learned that Crow hasn't washed
his good pants in at least a month.
CROW: Well, I never wear them.
GYPSY: I learned that Mike has been writing love letters to
someone named "Nuveena."
MIKE: Well, I -- hey!
GYPSY: And I learned that with a little love and caring, that
fern in my room may come back to life.

[brief silence]

GYPSY: That's all.
MIKE: Oh. Um... that's very sweet, Gypsy, but we were
talking about the experiment.
GYPSY: Oh! It wasn't very good.
CROW: You got that right, sister.

[Mad light flahses]

MIKE: Hold on, guys, Throat-warbler Mangrove is calling.

[D13]

Dr. F: Well, I see you survived once again, Wedge Antilles.
Not for lack of trying on my part, though. No one can accuse
Dr. Clayton Forrester of lying down on the job.

[SOL]

MIKE: Hey! Dr. F, you're not related to E.M. Forster by any
chance, are you? [glances at Tom and Crow]

[D13]

DR. F: [looking pleased] Well, actually, since you mention
it, my family is distantly related to good old Edward Morgan
on the distaff --

[breaks off as doorbell rings]

DR. F: One moment, poopies. I shall return.

[opens D13 door. Anthony Hopkins enters. He's dressed in a stiff
black suit with a high collar, and he has a fixed look on his face. He
looks at Dr. F. Nothing registers.]

DR. F.: Can I help you... er...?
HOPKINS: Are you Dr. Clayton Forrester?
DR. F.: [looks pleased] Why, yes! I am! How did you come to
hear of me? Was it my paper refuting the law of gravity? Or
perhaps my famous dissertation proving that the sun, in fact,
revolves around the Earth. Or more specifically, me.

[HOPKINS stares at DR. F. DR. F. grows uncomfortable, tries
to smile reassuringly at the camera. Suddenly, HOPKINS lunges
at Forrester and tries to throttle him.]

DR. F.: Ack! [gasps] Help... me...

[The door to D13 flies open. MOM F. enters, dressed in a sharp-
looking suit, her hair straightened and neatly brushed. She whips
a gun out of her pocket and nails HOPKINS right between the shoulder
blades. He falls on top of DR. F. and lies there, apparently dead.]

MOM: I thought I told you to trust no one, Clayton. Push the
button.
DR. F.: Yes... mother...

*FWOOSH!*

Mystery Science Theater 3000 and related characters and situations are
trademarks of and (c) 1996 by Best Brains Inc. All Rights Reserved. Star Trek
and all related characters are trademarks of and (c) 1996 Paramount, Inc., and
Star Wars and all related characters are trademarks of and (c) 1996 Lucasfilm
Ltd, I suppose, [inhale] *and* the X-Files and all related characters are
trademarks of and (c) 1996 FOX, I think. Use of copyrighted or trademarked
material is for entertainment purposes only. No infringement on original copyrights
or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc., Paramount, Inc., and/or Lucasfilm Ltd. is
intended or should be inferred. This post is not meant as a personal attack on
Adam Colby, nor should it be interpreted as such. My deepest personal apologies
to Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, and E.M. Forster. Also, my apologies
to Mike, Tom, Crow, and Gypsy for making you wear those ridiculous outfits.
Y'all can keep the cravats.

>The _Enterprise_ nonchalantly moved to the rear of the _Nosferatu_ and
>was suddenly in two place at once.
--
"It's the Susan Powter Barbie doll."
http://members.aol.com/rfothree/