[MSTing] I-76 fanfics from hell!
Nate Patrin
Hey all,
I'm a short-time lurker but long-time MiSTie and for the longest time I've
read brilliant MiSTings of the worst stories, posts and scripts the
Internet has to offer. Well, for my first MiSTing ever I found this bizarre
bastardization of the English language, literary structure and an
Activision computer game license while searching for some info on the game
"Interstate '76". Now while it may help to have a little background on the
game before reading it, I assure you that it is profoundly messed up and
goofy and painful to read, so don't say I didn't warn you. This, ladies and
gentlemen, could be the "Monster-a-Go-Go" of all fanfics...
NOTE: For some bizarre reason, while this does... uh, 'air' in '97, it's a
Joel-Frank-Clayton ep. I've just seen a lot more of 'em than the Mike ones,
and I haven't even seen a single Sci-Fi Channel show. Damn this cable-less
household...
WARNING: There are dirty words in the fanfic. Then again, swear words are
the least of your literary worries here...
==========================================================
(Theme music... what, didja expect 'Anarchy in the U.K.'?)
(Interior, SOL. Tom is reading the paper, while Joel and Crow do boring
maintenance stuff in the background.)
Tom: Hey, you guys hear about this?
Joel: What, did Dagwood make a big sandwich again?
Tom: Agh... no, Joel, nothing that predictable. NASA's going to send a
satellite to Jupiter, with a payload containing several pounds of
plutonium!
Crow: Hey, wow, science marches on! Who knows what new advances our
hallowed space program will try? Why, soon we could send a dog to the moon!
Or maybe even send little robotic go-karts to Mercury!
Tom: This isn't funny, guys! This baby is gonna make a pass around the
earth and if it just so happens to go Skylab on us and start falling apart,
why, the whole earth's atmosphere would be like one big mushroom cloud!
Billions would die!
Crow: Oh, stop being such a worrywart... next thing you'll tell us is that
ground beef is poisonous.
Tom: Josh all you will, beak-nose, but maybe you should remember what kinds
of things happen in a post-apocalyptic society... need I remind you of-
"City Limits"?
Crow (pauses): AAAAAGH! Call Ralph Nader! Call Rachel Carson! Get me on the
phone with Birdman! No amount of Kim Catralls in the world would justify
such an atrocious existence! (Crow runs around screaming.)
Joel: Uh, we'll be right back.
(Commercials: This weekend on the Fifth-Run Movie Channel, watch what
happens when the demented lead singer of a British techno group suddenly
has the power to make things burst into flame! Based on the Stephen King
novel, Prodigy's Keith Flint in "Firestarter"!)
(SOL interior again. Same deal- Tom fussing over the paper, Joel and Crow
reading over his shoulder at the Sports section.)
Joel: ...so Larry Walker couldn't *possibly* stand a chance of getting the
Triple Crown.
Crow: Maybe, but what about Griffey's run at 61?
Joel: Longshot. Maybe if he keeps focused and has a few two-homer games he
could reach at least fifty-five, easy. But I don't really think he could
pass Maris.
Crow: Well, what do you think, Servo?
Tom: Yeah... uh... great. Now I forgot what I was all upset about.
Crow: Oh, uh... lemme think... oh yeah. The Plutonium Death Module?
Tom: Ugh... that's it. (shudders) There was one thing I had to tell you,
but your inane baseball prattle has knocked it from my mind. Now all I can
think about is Hideki Irabu, and believe me, it's not pretty. (shakes head)
Joel: Cool it, you guys, the Chemical Brothers are calling.
(Deep 13. Dr. F is standing next to a rather large video arcade game
cabinet. Frank is mashing wildly on the buttons and yanking on the joystick
as Dr. F speaks.)
Dr. F: Very funny, Joel, although I hope you know that I wouldn't be caught
dead listening to that "electronica" music. It gives me hives. But anyways,
on to the invention exchange- and trust me, this one will toast your nerve
endings to a frayed, smoldering crisp. Now our invention relies on a simple
premise. If there's one thing that annoys video game enthusiasts, it's
faulty controllers. Sticky buttons and joysticks that don't move right are
all grating on the nerves of anyone who has the urge to play "Tekken" or
"Street Fighter" or my personal favorite, "Mr. Do's Wild Ride". Now as any
arcade-goer knows, this destruction is usually brought on by a
over-enthusiastic ten year-old sugar junkie who smacks on the buttons like
Jerry Lee Lewis, which is why I've invented the Button-Masher-Zapper. All
you have to do is install the proper components and set the ROM board in
the machine to detect how often a button is pressed or how harshly a
joystick is throttled. And if the rate's too high... (he flicks a switch,
Frank is flung back from the machine with lotsa smoke and sparks) the
player receives a 4,000-volt blast that spells 'Game Over' for his little
antics.
(SOL interior. There is a large slot machine with a picture of Dilbert on
it and a panel of a comic strip on each wheel.)
Crow: Coooool! Just like in "Never Say Never Again"!
Joel: Hush, you. Now our invention is one that focuses on the popular comic
strip, "Dilbert".
Tom: Don't you hate it when you read the comics section and you get to see
yet another cliche, predictable comic of Dogbert claiming himself as
overlord of the universe or the pointy-haired boss saying really stupid
things and getting called a moron by our mouthless hero?
Joel: Well, while this invention won't change that in the least, it will
save Scott Adams scads of time so he can go out and hobnob with the average
working-class man. We call it the "Cartoon Hero of the American Workplace
Slot Machine"! Let's demonstrate... (he pulls the lever, the machine slows
to a stop and...) here we go.
Crow: (reciting as the wheels stop) Hey... Wally tells Dilbert to stay out
of his cubicle... the boss comes by and spouts some incoherent babble about
teamwork... and both Wally and Dilbert remark on the fact that the boss has
the intelligence of a doorstop! Heehee! Do it again... (Joel pulls)
Tom: (as the wheels stop) Ah... some generic suit is explaining a new
company program in the boardroom... Wally points out that the company is
run by boneheads,... and... Dinosaur Bob comes by and gives the boss a
wedgie! OK, one more.. (Joel pulls)
Crow: Oh, this is a good one... (reading) Dogbert proclaims himself Supreme
Ruler of Everything, Dilbert makes a remark about a shoddy corporate
program, and... they all emotionally batter Ratbert into a miserable,
quivering heap!
Joel: Why, we could enjoy Dilbert for dozens of generations to come, even
after Scott Adams dies, or at least retires with a fortune in merchandising
profits!
(Deep 13. Frank is staring at his smoldering hands. Dr. F looks unimpressed
at Joel and the Bots.)
Dr. F: Feh. I still think "Ziggy" is funnier, and far more subversive. Just
for that, we're going to send you fanfics today. And not just any fanfics,
either- computer game fanfics! And not just any computer game fanfics...
but *INTERSTATE '76* fanfics!
(SOL)
Joel: Huh?
(Deep 13)
Dr. F: You know, Interstate '76... it's sort of like Quake with cars... or
Destruction Derby with guns... and it's all glossed over with a thick coat
of polyester and avocado-colored paint. And believe me, it's a lot more fun
to play than it is to read... so prepare to be "funked-up" with the
extremely un-groovy "Red Dawn Shining", but first- a little bit of epicac
we call "Donut Stop". Send 'em the fanfics, Frank.
(Frank stares at his hands a little while longer, then looks at the screen
and screams like a freak. Dr. F shrugs and sends it himself, and on the
SOL...)
All: We got fanfic siiiiiiiiiiiiign! (lights buzz, alarms flash, etc.)
(6...5...4...3...2...G)
>Donut Stop
Joel (singing): Donut stop...belieeeeeeving...
>- Eric Flanders (UFO)
Tom (Homer Simpson voice): I knew it! Flanders is a space alien!
Joel: I thought he was the devil.
Tom: Uh... OK, he's a space alien from Hell.
Crow: Like Trumpy?
Tom: Agh! Don't remind me.
>It's midday and I'm crusing down near the airport im my new manta looking
for >something to snack on.
Crow: Like... a donut?
Joel: Quiet, Tom, you'll ruin the plot.
Tom: Oh, gee, Joel, like we didn't know he was gonna go get a donut! It's
the freakin' /title/!
>I pull up into Jimmies donut stop,
Crow/Tom: Seeeee?
Joel: Cut it out, you.
>slaming on the brakes as my tires squeel into a parking space.
Crow: I call spelling!
Joel: Not for this one, sorry.
Crow: Oh, poopie.
>Before I get out to eat I scan the channels of my cb.
Tom: Breaker, breaker, this is Fireplug, I've got two smokeys and a whooole
lotta blatant plot exposition on my tail!
>There on channel 47 i hear Buzzkill,
Joel: Buzzkill Nation?
Crow: Channel 47 must be MTV.
>"Hey Soulman i got you covered till you get to the plane". "You better.
You know UFO >is still looking for me after he blew the back end of my car
with those cannons".
Tom (as Buzzkill): Oh, come on! He missed you completely, your Pinto just
backed into a stop sign.
>Then i switch the channel back to 8.
Crow (Beavis voice): Change it! It sucks!
>"Hey Eagle1, Eagle1, do you copy?" "This is Eagle1 come back". "I've got
two creepers >heading strait for me. Please advise."
Joel (as Eagle 1): Uh, OK. (pause) What's a creeper?
>"Go get um!! Over."
Crow: Ack! Who said that?!
Joel: Uh, Eagle 1, I think. Maybe. I dunno.
Tom (as UFO): Uh, could you be more specific? 'Go get 'em' isn't quite
enough, I need some sort of strategy here, maybe some advice on a route of
approa... oh, hell with it.
>Looks like lunch is out of the question. I pull out of the donut stop and
go to the other >side of a hill across the street. I turn off my V-10, and
put it in park.
Crow: Then he cranks up his Doobie Brothers 8-Track and blows his cover.
>I scan back over to channel 47"This is buzzkill. Soulman, we are
apporaching the airport. >Over."
Joel (as Soulman): OK, make sure to tool around on the runway where
everybody can see you.
>"Soulman here. Any sigh of UFO?"
Crow (sighing): Ohhhhhhh UFO... he's so dreeeeeeamy.
>"No way Soulman. Im telling you he's scared of you."
Joel (as UFO): I am *not*! Uh... oops.
>As they roll over the hill. I fire up all 576 horses, link my 3 30mm
cannons and roar >strait for them.
Tom: And right into an elaborately set-up buffer zone of landmines!
Joel: (makes exploding sounds)
>I hit Buzzkill hard, flatining both right side tires, sending him into the
side of a small >cliff. I back up and ram the drivers side door, finishing
Buzzkill off.
Joel (flatly): Whoa. This is exciting.
Crow/Tom (also flatly): Wow.
>Now for Soul man."This is UFO, Soulman. Your going to join Buzzkill!"
Crow (as UFO): And Buzzbomb, and Hackwrench, and Lubejob!
>"This is Soulman. Circusboy, Truck driver, can you hear me?"
Tom (as Circusboy): Not over all this shoddy narration, I can't!
>Then I target Soulman. I can hear the low hum of my 30mm cannon turret
>locking on to him. I drop a few bullets into his engine, hitting his
>cb too.
Crow (whiny): Hey! I just got that at Radio Shack! It cost me two months'
allowance! *bawl*
>Soulman comes to a screaching hault. I can hear his screames.
Joel (as Soulman): GET ME OUT OF THIS FANFIC! PLEASE!
>I drive over to the drivers side of the car and pull out my 45.
Tom: Hey, that's a 7" single of "Jungle Boogie" by Kool and the Gang!
Crow: Crap, wrong 45.
>"Goodnight Soulman." BAM BAM BAM BAM!!!
Joel: Oh great, now it's a Flinstones cartoon.
>Over the shots i can hear my cb.
Crow: He must have one of those /really loud/ CB radios.
Tom: This one goes to 11...
>"Soulman, this is Truck driver. Do you need any assistance?"
Joel (as Soulman): Erk... no, that's OK, I can die on my own.
> Clearing my throught, I pick up my cb and reply. "UM, This is Soulman, im
fine."
Crow (as Truck Driver): Er, Soulman, I never remembered you sounding white.
Joel (as UFO): Oops.
>"Well then hurry and get those hot guns over here or the boss will have
your head."
Tom (as UFO): Did he say I had hot buns? Saaaay...
Crow: Augh! Tom, you're getting into a weird area there.
>"No problem Truck driver. Everything's under control."
Tom (as truck driver): For the last time, my name's Michael! Call me
Michael, OK? That's all I ask... *sob*
>As i turn around i send a firerite missle into the back of Soulman's
Clydsdale.
Crow: Fire-Rite missiles, from War-Co! Now available in 12-packs.
Tom: That's right, blow up the car... just in case those _four point-blank
shots to the head_ didn't kill him.
>As i look in my rearview mirror I see a huge explosion and two towers of
smoke rising >into the sky.
Joel: Aw jeez... This is the last time I stop for donuts in Alamogordo...
> I turn my cb back to channel 8. "All taken care of Eagle1.
Crow (as UFO): No thanks to you, you lazy bastard!
> Meet me in 5 minnutes at Jimmies dounut stop. Im hungry."
Tom: Ugh, I'm not... let's go, guys.
(Joel picks up Tom, and they walk out... the door closes on the credits.)
>Tell me what you think. My address is
>bfla...@amaonline.com
>By:Eric Flanders (UFO)
(G...2...3...4...5...6)
(SOL. Joel and the bots stagger in, Tom shaking his, uh, dome rapidly and
mumbling...)
Tom: Uuuuuuugh... that was bad. I haven't seen such a disgusting exhibition
of automotive youth thugs gone bad since "Daddy-O"!
Crow: What I'm wondering is, what the hell is a "Manta"? And a
"Clydesdale", for that matter?
Joel: Well, as far as I could tell they're euphemistic pseudonyms for
classic cars. A "Courcheval Manta"'s really a Corvette Stingray, and a
"Phaedra Clydesdale" is a Ford Bronco.
Tom: Hrrrm. Well, "chasing a white Phaedra Clydesdale" doesn't sound as
comical, much less CNN-worthy.
Crow: Yeah, and imagine what would've happened if Prince wrote "Little Red
Manta"! That'd ruin the whole song; the meter would be thrown off... it'd
be a disgrace!
Joel: Well, what if Interstate '76 took place today? You'd have to come up
with a lot of pseudonyms to cover the gamut of cars out there...
Tom: Yeah... hmm. How about the "Corcheval Cosmo", the minivan for the
family auto-vigilante?
Crow: Yeah, or the practical "Phaedra Consort", best-selling armored
economy hatchback for 10 years running?
Tom: Step into Germany's BNW Roadster, and cruise the Autobahn at 150 while
dropping wide swaths of flame onto the asphalt to send pursuers veering off
the road in a fireball of rubber and steel!
Crow: And for the fun, sporty type, there's the Picard Halogen, the
friendly little coupe that says "Hi!" and "See you in hell!" all at once!
Tom: And for those of you looking for the sport utility vehicle that's
perfect for dodging bullets in the midst of a bustling small town in Texas
or sending a missile down your enemy's tailpipe in the scorching mountains
of the Sierra Nevada, who can compare to the Reep Iroquis!
Crow: 'Reep'?
Tom: Like you can think up a better one.
Crow: Oh, shut up, terrarium-head.
Tom: You shut up, Tupperware-gut.
Joel: Uh. We'll be right back...
Crow: Salad bowl butt!
Tom: Diamond pupils!
(Commercials: New, for Playstation: Trekken, the 3D martial arts video game
based on the Star Trek Universe! Cripple your opponents with Spock's Muay
Thai Vulcan Neck Pinch unblockable! Send them flying with Chekov's Drunken
Master style! Batter them with Uhura's bone-snapping multi-part throws or
finish them off with Kirk's killer air juggles and flying Tae-Kwon-Do
ten-hit strings! Trekken, only from Shamco!)
(Back in the theater...)
>Red Dawn Shining
Crow: Tom Clancy writes I-76 fanfics?
>Written by: Lazarus (Chapters One, Two and Four), Destiny (Chapter Three)
Joel: Multiple authors? This bodes not well.
Tom: Course not! Just look at "Con Air"...
>Chapter One
Crow: "All this happened, more or less. The war parts are pretty much
true..."
Tom: Uh, Crow, this is gonna be a far cry from Vonnegut.
>Morter Fun
Tom: Mortars are fun?
Crow: More like "Morter Bored".
Joel: Oh, no spelling riffs on this one, either.
Tom/Crow: Aww!
>The life of a vigilante worker is a hard one.
Crow: Yeah, especially the part about you living day-to-day, not knowing if
this moment might be your last, worrying yourself sick about burning to
death in your own flaming wreckage...
Joel: Crow, that's enough.
>We are always fighting to keep loads of weapons for our gangs, and car
parts safe.
Joel: Well, yeah. Gangs can never have enough weapons.
Crow: But they fight to protect car parts, too. They can't be all bad.
>The world calls us out to protect the innocent which the police fail in
protecting.
Tom: Or serving, for that matter.
>To kill creepers, and rebel gangs that are not working for the cause.
Tom: Like those damned Clippers.
Crow: Aaagh!
Joel: No more City Limits refs for you, young man.
>The road was straight, narrow,
Tom: Much like Pat Buchanan.
>and I was tired as hell. I flipped the switch on my radar off thinking,
hey I don't need it >for awile.
All: Suuuuuuuuure.
>And glanced over at my pal drivin along side me keeping an eye on the
flatbed ahead of >us.
Crow (singing) Oh keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the
whe-el...
>Toxy was my mentor, my hero.
Joel: And someday, I'd take on a really goofy nickname just like him.
>He had taught me how to drive my Stingray,
Crow: *ahem*, you mean 'Manta'?
>and he had taught me how to use those giant shells called morters.
Tom: The first thing he taught me was: don't aim the mortar cannon at your
own hood.
>The heartless bastard, he didn't know what he had created. I craved to see
another car >explode into a hot fireball of ash after I put a hole in the
roof with one or to of my WP >Morters.
Crow: Waitasec. This guy enjoys killing people and watching things explode,
and it's his _mentor_ who's the heartless bastard?
>Toxy however was not the enthusit on death. He never liked the kills he
made.
Tom: He was a real wussy weiner dork.
>Just then I noticed, my radio had gone from some groovy toons, to
nothingness,
Joel: ABC/Capitol Cities musta just bought out another community-run modern
rock station.
>and the loud poping and crackling as my CB went off. " We want the guns."
Crow (as Lazarus): Ahh! I knew it! It's the ATF trying to infringe on my
Second Amendment rights! Eat hot death you socialist one-worlders!
>That was it. I flipped on my Radar and to my horror, I counted almost 30
blips ont he >screen
All: Wah-wah-wah-wah-waaaaaaaah!
Crow: Yeah, I suppose the hero's gonna waste 'em all himself, huh?
Tom: Oh, course not. He's got his pal Toxy with him.
Crow: But he doesn't like killing.
Tom: Oh.
Joel: Yeah, he's got a kinda Kwai-Chang Caine thing going.
>I flipped a switch on the top pannle locking all the morters and pulled
out my glock 9mm
Tom: Lazarus ready to rock, I got a Glock and *pow*! Ya body is all over
th' block!
Joel: Wow, Servo, I never pegged you as a guy who listened to Redman.
Tom: I'm full of surprises, Joel.
>Cherry always said these were better then the .45's.
Crow: But then, Cherry thought Bobby Sherman was really neato keen.
>I set it on the seat next to me, and fastend my five pin harness.
Tom: What, this guy needs a truss to battle in armed automotive warfare?
Joel: I think he's referring to a safety belt.
Tom: Oh, thanks a lot... you heartless *joke-murderer*!
>They were closing in. Fast. I sped up and got the driver to stop.
Crow: Which one? There were *thirty* of 'em!
>I knew he would be fine, he reached back into his cab pulling out two long
sleek >weapons. One an RPG used to take out tanks and another a sawdoff
shotgun and steped >down w/ a small box. it was full of shells and two
rockets.
Tom (singing): And a partridge in a pear treeeeee!
>" Fly, your going to be ok right?" "Of course he is he's a stubborn
bastard that doesn't >die" shouted Toxy
Crow: "Fly"? Who's that? A new character?
Tom: Maybe it's the narrator.
Crow: Or the guy with all the weapons.
Tom: Or the head bad guy.
Crow: Maybe the guy with all the weapons is the head bad guy.
Tom: Maybe Lazarus is the narrator, and Fly is a different person
altogehter!.
Joel: Come on, guys, Fly can be all these things and more!
Crow/Tom: NO HE CAN'T! (they start sobbing)
Joel: Oh.
>I knew he had already flipped his morter switches
Crow: I think whoever wrote this has 'flipped his mortar switches'.
>and was ready. "Lets go" I yelled and slid into my car. We got to the top
of the ridge and >went in seperate directions, engines off, in neutrle.
Tom: Wait a sec. They were able to go in seperate directions with their
engines *off*? How could they even move?
Joel: It's a steep ridge?
>"We Want the guns" Crackled the CB
All: WE KNOW!
>and then before I could respond, a loud explosion filled my head.
Crow: His brain combusted trying to decipher the narrative!
>I turned seeing a black Royal
Tom: Hal McRae?
Joel (impatiently): Tom....
>loaded w/ 25mm's and a cluster bomb launcher. "Oh Shit...Why fucking me."
Crow: Because you're an auto vigilante, the life of which isn't easy?
>I said to myself as I turned the key and slamed the car in gear as I took
blind potshots >with my glock. Cherry had always said you should try.
Tom: Aw, trying's for wussies! You've got to have guts to be apathetic!
>I slid around on the edges of my right whells morters already flying right
on to the target. >I thought I heard him scream before he died,
Joel: Then again, it might have been the voices in my head.
>and I smiled as I turned the car towards a patch of 3 blips. I was quite
shocked when I >drove into 4 Stryders sporting firerite turrets and not 3.
Tom: Speed Buggy, nooo!
>No matter, the more death the merrier.
Joel: Hey, my mom used to say that all the time.
>I aimed calmy as I parked the car and shot 2 of them with my glock. "Lucky
Bastard"
>I knew Toxy had seen my triumph with the gun "It's all the gun
Toxy..really you should >try it somtiIII" A barrage of rockets hit my car
as I spoke and hit the gas while switching >gears smiling at the squeal of
my tires on the ground.
Crow: This guy smiles at the weirdest moments.
>I flung my car head on into the first strider kililng the driver on impact
then drove >straight for a cliffedge with the other closing on my rear
bumper. Little did he know that >I was going to lay an oil paht while
turning the car
Tom: Little did _he_ know, yeah. _I_ saw that coming a mile away.
>and I laughed when I saw him go sliding off the edge
Joel: Seems to _laugh_ at the worst times, too.
>"You there Fly?" The radio just crackled. "Oh my god." I drove for the
truck as fast as I >could glock ready and gaped when I saw what I saw.
"Fly..." The ratbastard had at least >6 cars sitting around him, drivers
all dead, and was in one of them with a wrench >salvaging.
Crow: Well, that was suspenseful.
Tom: He was salvaging one of the *drivers*? Eeeeew.
Joel: Well, you've heard about those kidney thieves...
>Toxy was doing fine himself chaissing off the remainder of the other cars
as I just killed >everything I saw move. Some call morters a cowards
weapon, But then, some die, don't >they?
Joel: Well, actually, I think everyone winds up dying eventually.
Crow (British accent): We all got'go sometime, y'know, I mean...
>We got done takeing all the spare parts we could handle, and a nift `Tiny
Tim` 8
>track and started moving again,
Tom: (singing extremely falsetto): Tiptoe... through the carnage...
>It was a long way to Repo Town,
Joel: Repo Town, a Mike Nesmith film, starring Emilio Estevez. Rated R.
Tom: Look for the soundtrack soundtrack on San Andreas records, featuring
tracks by Black Flag, the Circle Jerks and Suicidal Tendencies!
>and we still had to go through the BadLands. I looked forward to that,
Cherry was there, >and Ax-L...Little did he know that I was only going for
his lover, but then hey, its a free >country.
Crow: I'm really starting to hate this guy.
Tom: I started hating him eight sentences ago.
>This is my first of what I hope to be a series about the ModSquad,
>Hollow Points, and Repos Cherry/Ax-L too. If you like say so. I do my
>best.
Joel: (waving hand) Aw, pffft. You do not.
Crow: Hey, wait- what does the Mod Squad have to do with this? Huh? Leave
Linc outta this, you bastards! (Crow shakes furiously, Joel nudges him and
he stops.)
>Chapter 2
Crow: "Listen: Billy Pilgrim has become unstuck in time..."
Tom: Crow, give up... this isn't "Slaughterhouse Five".
Crow: Ah, it's just as well. It'd just wind up reading 'So it goes' every
ten words anyways.
>Night At the RollerBall Arena
Joel: Oh, that was my favorite Marx Brothers film.
>I was cold, board and tired of hearing Fly's ego about the cars he had
trashed with his >RPG and shotgun. I just wanted to relax.
Tom: So I went out and shot up a bunch of cacti with a 30-millimeter
submachine gun while singing Iggy and the Stooges' "Search and Destroy" at
the top of my lungs!
>We were in the boarderlands, and I knew Ax-L and Cherry were close. I
could feel them. >I yawned as I leaned back against my car groaning as I
was out of ciggarettes. "Damn it"
Joel: Messing with other people's girlfriends, driving along the edges of
cliffs, tooling around in massive firefights- hey, go ahead and smoke.
Something else'll kill you before the lung cancer does.
>I knew it had been that ass Toxy. Always taking my ciggerettes. Oh well...
Crow (as Lazarus): For a mentor who was like a brother to me and taught me
everything I knew, plus helped save my butt on several occasions, he was a
real dickweed.
>as I looked down I saw a crumpled sun bleached piece of paper somthing was
written on >it.
Joel: "Donut Stop, by Eric Flanders..."?
Tom/Crow: Noooo!
>"ROLLERBALL ARENA OPEN NOW" It screamed in loud pink letters. Cherry
letters.
Tom: Cherry. Hrm. Think there's a connection there?
>"come to Rollerball and fight for money, women "or men" weapons and car
parts. Off >East I76. "Somthing to Do..."
Joel (singing): Now I wanna sniff some glue, now I wanna have somethin' to
do...
>I jumped in my manta
Crow: I thought it was a Stingray.
Tom: GM probably threatened 'im with a lawsuit.
> and drove off into the sunset leaving Fly to do what he does best. Be by
himself.
Joel: Not one word.
Tom/Crow: Awwwwww!
>The road is the best thing to hear under your car.
Tom: What about miles and miles of bubble wrap?
Crow: Big squeaky toys?
Tom: A giant keyboard like the one in the movie "Big"!
Crow: Thousands of discarded "E.T." video game cartridges!
Tom: Pudding... lots and lots of pudding!
Crow: Michael Bolton's carcass!
Joel: Alright, you two, that's enough.
>The soft sound of the tires hitting the rubber filling in the cracks is
like music in your >ears. I listened to that music and pushed my foot down
on the gas so I could reach the >Arena faster, I craved to kill.
Crow: This is starting to sound like "A Clockwork Orange"...
Tom (British accent): The Durango 95 purred away real horrorshow. A nice
warm vibratey feeling all through your guttiwuts.
>It was huge, at least a mile high, and wide.
Joel: What was?
Crow: The hole in the story's logic, I think.
>I drove up to the entrance and was eyed by a suspieciously familier face.
"You know >Laz, I can't let you in here w/ morters."
Tom: Oh great, now he's abbreviating words that don't even need it!
>Destiny! that bastard! he was alive
Crow: And he just turned on the radio!
Joel: I'm waiting for him to misspell it "Density".
>"I thought you died in the middle of no fucking where! How you been man!"
He smiled >and turned his head showing a long scar running down his neck
"shit..what happend?"
Crow (as Destiny): Ritual scarring, man- it's kewl! Got it at Ozzfest!
>"I took 2 rounds of some assholes .45 thru the neck and a bunch of morter
shraplnell.
>Wonder I'm still alive..."
Tom: Not a wonder, just a really unconvincing plot point.
>He opend the garage letting me in so I could redo my car. I grinned as I
saw just what I >needed.
Joel: Big fat tires and one of those decals of Calvin peeing on a Ford
logo?
>The arena doors opend and I drove in slowely not knowing who'd I see or
what to >expect. Suddenly the annoncer called out a few names.
Joel: A bricklayer from Pensacola, Florida, please welcome our next
contestant, Joe Shmidlap...
Tom: Will Antonio Malochio please pick up the white courtesy phone?
Crow: Now batting, number 34... Kirbyyyyyyyy Puckeeeeeeeeeeeeeett!
>None of which I recognized. But did recognized the annoncer's voice.
Joel (as Lazarus): Hey, that's Don Pardo!
>It was Ax's brother, RattlerTrap. The only other obstacle in my way of
getting to Cherry.
Crow (as Lazarus): But I'd fix him. Ohhhhhh, I'd fix him _good_.
>I drove up to the line Destiny had told me too and pulled into a small box
waiting for my >name to be called. I waited a long time. Suddenly the loud
speaker blared "Next up >Podaar, Lazarus, EAF and Destiny."
Tom: Excuse me, but can you please clean up after yourself by picking up
all those names you dropped?
> I was astounded, these were all my friends...
Crow (as Lazarus): But I'd win a hundred bucks and some beer so I wouldn't
have a hard time waxin' em.
>I shifted into gear and drove forward smiling seeing EAF was on my side,
and I was >facing off against Destiny and Podaar. I trusted EAF.
Tom: What does EAF stand for?
Joel: Elvis Ate Figs?
Crow: Eddie the Atomic Ferret?
Tom: How about Extremely Annoying Fanfic?
Joel: I like Tom's idea.
Crow: Yeah, me too...
>A gun shot and my car lurched forward, the engine growlling and pushing
the weight of >my great Manta forward towards Podaar 30mm cannon blaring as
I shot a load of 3 aim >nein's up his radiator. He died almost instantly.
Tom: Along with any hope of a good action scene.
>The annoncer was speaking inan annoying tone..I wished I was done so I
could get to >him and kill his bastard ass.
Crow: Die, Dick Vitale! DIIIIIIIIE!
>Obviously no one had yet. Podaar's blazing chaisse rammed me as I was
thining and the >car spun out of control, almost off a cliff. EaF was rite
behind me slamming head on into >Destiny. They didn't seem to be that great
of friends. I relized this when EAF opend up >with his cannon while pushing
Destiny off a cliff. Eaf followed him.
Tom: That's it? Everyone's dead? Whew, that's a rel...
>They regend of course as the Good guys ALWAYS DO and we kept going at it.
Tom: WHAT? AAGH!
Crow: They CAME BACK from the DEAD?
Tom: Cripes! Why kill someone when they come back right away? That's
completely implausible! It's like some sort of bad B-mov... oh.
>The score was 4832 to 1200 or so and I wanetd to win and get outa there.
Joel: Which is kinda hard when everyone keeps coming back to life and you
have to keep killing them...
>We drove hard as I kept trying to avoid Destiny's damned DrRadars.
Tom (as Lazarus): I quickly countered with my Hawkeye cannon and my Trapper
John grenade launcher.
>Podaar was off killing EAF somewhere as I saw Destiny just sitting there
quitely trying >to hide in his car.
Crow (as Destiny): I don't wanna dieeeeeee! (pause) Again.
>I shut off my engine, steped out of the car and from accross the giant
chasm, I watched >him with my binochs.
Joel: Oh goody, now we're in "Rear Window".
>I pulled out my glock and aimed quitely and squeezed the trigger. Blood
coated the >windshield as that Good guy didn't come back..
Joel: Eeeew...
Crow (John Travolta voice): I didn't mean to do it! I hit a bump or
somethin' and the gun went off!
Tom: (Samuel L. Jackson voice): The car didn't hit no motherfreakin' bump!
>With out warning Podaar caming flying at me
Tom (as Lazarus): Dammit, Podaar, _warn_ me the next time you try to kill
me!
>almost hitting me as I dashed backinto my car. I slambed it into reverse
and pulled back >to the hillside. First gear then second then as I hit 3
and hit the jump I knew that rat >bastard rattlertrap was going to die in a
minute.
Crow: He was going to lean too far out of the announcer's booth and fall to
his death?
Joel: Oh, I don't know...
>I laneded perfectly on the platform and pushed the button on my wheel
color coated >black for destruction and blew the liveing fuck out of the
leperechan sitting there and >waitin to die.
Tom: That sounded like Rob Zombie's version of a Lucky Charms commercial.
>It was over and I had won, I always win I thought.
Crow: Well, it _is_ your story.
>But then another thought hit me. The last person I heard say that, died by
my glock in >that arena. Spectators are always fun to harrass as Destiny
was fine, but the big skinhead
All (singing): Take the skinhead bowling, take him bowling...
>who had challenged him to a fight after wards for not letting the other
team which he had >bet on win, had around 9 holes in him and a bunch of
shell casings from a glock 9mm >around his body.
Joel: Great, now the Aryan Nations have another martyr.
>I turned and was walking towards the Diner when I spotted what I was
looking for. >Ax-L sitting there on his car with a rifle pointed at my
head. I could feel the red dot from >the laser sight digging into my skull.
Crow: They didn't have laser sights back then!
Tom: And you're just now noticing this story's tendency to be completely
and utterly out of sync with reality?
>I dropped and fell backwards reversing the manuver and rolled forward
twice landing >with skill right next to him with my glock right at his
dick.
All: AAAGH!
Joel: Did we really need to see that?
>" Hey cous. How ya been?" I grinned as my safty was off, but his was on.
Tom: This is getting way too Freudian...
>Hey simply swallowed and put hsi gun down as I holstered mine and gave the
big fool a >hug as he was blood. He was my only blood. And would soon be
wanting to spill mine.
Joel: What more could you ask for in a friend? C'mon, let's go, guys...
Crow: Wait, I thought he was gonna kill that announcer! What a rip!
>We walked towards the diner togehter talking and laughing as we planned
our own little >roller ball comp.
(They start to leave)
>If you like these tell me, then I write more of them.
Tom (on his way out): Oh great, fanfic S+M.
(G......2...3...4...5...6)
(Joel, Tom [in a sheriff's hat] and Crow are standing at the table with a
whole mess of Revell-style model cars. The table is intricately covered
with a model road, complete with lots and lots of sand for that spiffy
desert effect. Gypsy, er, "walks" in.)
Gypsy: Hey guys. Whatcha doin'?
Joel: Oh, we're just going to show our viewing audience here some of the
rules for the road...
Crow: Vigilante styyyyyyyyyle.
Gypsy: Ohhhh. OK.
Joel: Cambot, hit the lights...
(they dim the lights and shine a spotlight on the cars, Joel starts moving
a Dodge Charger model around, which Cambot zooms in on.)
Tom: (really dramatic) It's nighttime in the New Mexico desert. Peaceful,
serene... the kind of night perfect for taking a long, relaxing drive. But
there is a danger out there, and the untrained driver could fall victim
to... Death in the Desert. (dramatic horn riff, then some eerie distorted
music starts to seep into the background.) Let's follow the last moments of
a young vigilante- let's call him Mitch- as he speeds straight towards
tragedy. Mitch has not trained himself well in the methods of responsible
driving. He's had a bit too much to drink. He's tired. He's cranked up his
Emerson, Lake and Palmer 8-track, sealing himself off from any warning
sounds that could be approaching. But he pulls the most fatal flaw when he
shuts off his radar scanner. Yes, for out there in the desert lurk many
dangers... (Joel starts to push a Corvette Stingray model into the shot.)
...that the less responsible and aware drivers could fall victim to. Watch
as this Courcheval Manta, driven by a dangerous, reckless hooligan, speeds
towards Mitch. The Manta's driving in the wrong lane, and its
mortar-launchers are cocked and ready to kill. (Joel lets go of the
Charger) If Mitch was prepared, he'd know what to do- turn his radar on,
turn down "Karn Evil #9" and whip out his 35-millimeter double-linked
cannons. But since Mitch is unprepared, tragedy strikes... (A little BB
launches from the 'Vette model's roof and lands on the Charger, while an
M-80 strapped inside the model's interior is set off, exploding it and
sending flaming plastic parts everywhere. Neat special effect, huh?) Yes,
because Mitch was asleep at the wheel, death takes another young life.
(Cambot zooms close-up into Servo's, uh, face) Don't let this... happen to
you. (Dramatic riff, then lights flash and buzzers and the noise and the
movie sign and the running- hoil!)
[Continued in follow-up post]
-Nate "Damned youth violence gangs!" Patrin
Jonah13NYC
>(Theme music... what, didja expect 'Anarchy in the U.K.'?)
Actually, that'd be a cool opening!
Jonah Falcon
http://members.aol.com/jonah13nyc/index.html (try it! you'll like it!)