MiSTing "The Odyssey (pt.11 of 12)
Tjats
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The SOL bridge. Mike, Servo, and Crow are standing behind the counter, the
time machine is still to the right, but isn't turned on.
Mike: Welcome back, everyone. Say, guys, uh... do you think that the song the
sirens sang to Odysseus would actually lure sailors to their island?
Crow: Of course not, Mike! That song couldn't seduce an earthworm.
Servo: Yeah. Which reminds me, I decided to pen an alternative song that
might actually atract visitors to the Sirens' island.
Mike: Well, let's hear it!
Servo: Okay!
Music plays, a piano playing slowly, like a love song.
Servo[singing softly]:
Come one, come all,
Let's all have a ball,
At the island of Sirens and songs,
When you dock your ship here,
You can have a beer.
And maybe smoke some bongs.
That is, unless,
And I may digress,
You can get passed those awful bad rocks,
And actually find a docking port,
Not of the sandy, shallow sort.
And if you get to us in one piece,
We may have to skin you for fleece.
But that's okay, 'cuz we'll have all day,
To get in bed and do it with-
Mike: Uh, Tom, that's far enough.
Servo: But I wanna finish the song!
The music ends, and Crow goes to the time machine.
Crow: Okay, guys! Quit your bickering! It's time to bring the last person
from Mike's illusrious past to the present!
Crow starts the machine.
Mike[over the din]: I think we've run out of people, Crow.
Crow: Nonsense! There's got to be someone! Your third grade teacher,
perhaps? Maybe that stone-faced co-worker at the cheese factory? Your
brother, Edward?
Mike: I don't have a brother named Edward.
Suddenly, the time machine explodes in a huge cloud of smoke. Crow is thrown
back to the far left where Mike and Servo stand in horror. Gypsy rushes in.
Gypsy: Guys! What happened?
Crow: I don't know! The machine just overloaded, and...
The smoke clears, and standing there in a red jumpsuit marked Gizmonics is...
Bots: JOEL!!!!!!!
Joel[bewildered]: What the heck did you guys do to me? I-
Joel sees Mike, who is trying to remember who this guy is.
Joel: Hey, I remember you! You're the one who was working with the mads when
they were audited!
Mike: Yeah, and you are... that guy...
Crow: He's the guy who you helped escape from the satelite!
Mike: Oh, that's right! Jeol?
Bots[disaprovingly]: That's JOEL!
Mike: Right.
Joel: They send another guy up after me? Aww, gee. It's nice to know you
guys are in good hands.
The 'Bots laugh at Joel's hoplessly incorrect statement.
Mike: Hi, I'm Mike Nelson.
Joel: And I'm Joel Robinson, say, are you still watching bad movies?
Mike: Yeah, but right now we're reading the Odyssey, and...
Movie sign.
Mike: Oh, geez, we got epic sign!
Joel: Say, Crow, you seem different.
Corw: Oh, *do* I?
6...5...4...3...2...1...
Mike, Joel, Crow, and Servo enter the theater. Joel sits in his former seat,
and Mike just stands.
Mike: Uh, Joel, you're in my seat.
Crow: Let him sit there, Mike.
Mike: Okay...
Mike sits down next to Servo.
>The Cattle of the Sun God
>
Joel: And Gypsy seems different, too.
Servo: In never noticed.
>In the small hours of the third watch, when stars
>that shone out in the first dusk of evening
Mike: So, night's just starting, and they're *already* on the third watch?
>had gone down to their setting, a giant wind
>blew from heaven, and clouds driven by Zeus
Servo makes a car reving noise.
>shrouded land and sea in a night of storm;
>so, just as Dawn with fingertips of rose
Mike and 'Bots[at same time as "fingertips...]: ...fingertips of rose, we
know.
>touched the windy world, we
Joel: ...wagged our wound and winced at the wain. I mean pain.
> dragged our ship
>to cover in a grotto, a sea cave
Mike: All right, Cambot, enough with the definitions! Oh, that was inthe
story, sorry.
>where nymphs haad chairs of rock and sanded floors.
>I mustered all the crew and said:
>
Joel: Get Smucker's Mustard. You know it's good.
>'Old shipmates,
Crow: Well, they're not exaclty old, they're in their twenties.
> our stores are in the ship's hold, food and drink;
All: Duh!
>the cattle here are not for our provision,
>or we pay dearly for it.
Servo: Make checks payable to Helios, Incorporated.
>Fierce the god is who cherishes these heifers and these sheep:
Cambot does not do anything.
Mike: Allright, Cambot, thanks for laying off on those definitions.
Cambot: Actually, the word is not in my memory bank.
Mike: All the better.
>Helios; and no man avoids his eye.'
>
>To this my fighters nodded. Yes. But now
>we had a month onshore gales, blowing
>day in, day out-south winds, or south by east.
Joel: Or east by south, or east, or north by south, or...
>As long as bread and good red wine remained
>to keep the men up, and appease their craving,
>they would not touch the cattle. But in the end,
'Bots: YAAAAAYYYYYYY!"
Mike: I don't think that's what it meant.
'Bots: Awwwwww....
>when all the barley in the ship was gone,
>hunger drove them to scour the wild shore
Crow: It's Wild America 2: Wild Shore.
>with angling hooks, for fishes and seafowl,
Mike: I'm no expert on grammer, but I think "fish" is both plural *and*
singular.
>whatever fell into their hands; and lean days
>wore their bellies thin.
Joel: Odysseus should have checked the acu-weather forcast!
>
>The storms continued. So one day I
Servo: ...died. The end.
Mike and Joel[At same time]: Servo...
> withdrew to the interior
>to pray the gods in solitude, for hope
>that one might show me some way of salvation.
Crow: But, knowing the plotline from this story, probably not.
>Slipping away, I stuck across the island
>to a sheltered spot, out of the driving gale.
>I washed my hands there,
Servo: How? Was there an nice procelain water recepticle there?
> and made supplication
>to the gods who own Olympus,
Crow: Oh, so they have the property deed. Big deal.
> all the gods-
>but they, for answer, only closed my eyes
>under slow drops of sleep.
Joel: That sentence is just too wrong.
>Now on the shore Eurylochus made his insideous plea:
>
Mike[as Eurylochus]: Okay, now here's the plan, when he comes back and goes to
sleep, we steal all of his underwear! Hahahaha!
>'Comrades,' he said, 'You've gone through everything; listen to what I say.
>All deaths are hateful to us, mortal wretches,
Joel: Who you calllin' a mortal wretch?
>bbut famine is the most pitiful, the worst
>end that a man can come to.
>Will you fight it? Come, we'll cut out the noblest of these cattle
>for sacrifice to the gods who own the sky;
Servo: And now, the gods own the sky, too? What next, the Pacific Ocean?!?
>and once at home, in the old country of Ithaca,
>if ever that day comes-
>we'll build a costly temple and adorn it
>with every beauty for the Lord of Noon.
Servo makes a grandfather clock bonging noise, bonging 12 times.
>But if he flares up over his heifers lost,
>wishing our ship destroyed, and if the gods
>make cause with him, why, then I say: Better
>open your lungs to a big sea once and for all
>than waste to skin and bones on a lonely island!'
>
All make sleeping noises, imitating the crowd Eurylochus is talking to.
>Thus Eurylochus; and they murmured 'Aye!'
>trooping away at once to round up heifers.
Mike: So, how does Odysseus know all this?
Joel: He's psychic!
>Now, that day tranquil cattle with broad brows
>were grazing near,
Crow: How convieeeeeeenient!
> and soon the men drew up
>around their chosen beasts in ceremony.
>They plucked the leaves that shone on a tall oak-
>having no barley meal-to strew the victims,
>performed the prayers and ritual, knifed the kine
>and flayed each carcass, cutting thighbones free
>to wrap in double folds of fat. These offerings,
>with strips of meat, were laid upon the fire.
>Then, as they had no wine, they made libation
>with clear spring water,
Mike: from Saratoga.
Servo: Where's that?
Mike: I don't know.
> broiling the entrails first;
Joel covers the 'Bots' eyes.
Joel: You don't want to see this. In fact, why don't you leave for a while?
'Bots: Okay, Joel.
The 'Bots leave, and Mike takes Servo's seat, and he's now next to Joel.
Mike: Fragile little guys, aren't they?
Joel: Yeah.
>and when the bones were burnt and tripes shared,
>they spitted the carved meat.
>Just then my slumber left me in a rush, my eyes opened,
>and I went down the seaward path. No sooner
>had I caught sight of our black hull, than savory
>odors of burnt fat eddied around me;
>grief took hold of me, and I cried aloud:
>
Mike and Joel[as Odysseus]: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
>'O Father Zeus and gods in bliss forever,
>you made me sleep away this day of mischeif!
>O cruel drowsing, in the evil hour!
>Here they sat, and a great work they contrived.'
Mike[as Zeus' answering machine]: I'm sorry, Zeus is not here right now.
Please leaave a message at the tone.
Joel: Beeeeeep!
(commercials)
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e-mail tj...@aol.com
I repost upon request.
Jim, the Mistie
"Watch out for...waffles!"