MiSTing: Johnson's Last War
Chris Mayfield
might as well post what I have of the MiSTing (the original post
is a four parter) before departing. Enjoy!
Chris Mayfield (camf...@iastate.edu)
[Opening stuff]
[Shot of the desk with a TV on it. Crow, and Tom are all facing
the TV, which has itąs back towards the camera. Various violent
noises are eminating from the set (gun shots, explosions, spines
cracking, etc.)]
Crow: Wow! Did you see that guyąs head explode!
Tom: You could even see the brain!
Crow: Cool, that guy just had his guts ripped out! Thatąs got to
hurt!
TV: Weąll be back to Death Match Blood Sport VII: The Final
Conflict, after these messages. [womanąs voice] Have you
ever had a yeast infection?
Crow: Gross!
Tom: I think Iąm going to be sick.
Crow: How can they put this stuff on TV?
[commercial. Mentos-the favorite candy of young Aryans.]
[Back on the SOL, Mike has turned off the TV and is lecturing the
bots.]
Mike: You boys watch too much television. You know that all that
violence can have an adverse affect on you.
Crow: Like dressing up as Carol Channing?
Tom: Or hazing yourself?
Crow: Or--
Mike: Hey, look whoąs calling. [hits light]
[Deep 13]
Forester: Hello, you faces of death. Have you ever noticed how
net.kooks generate a huge following? Well, Frank and I have
decided to become net.kooks. Once we have a large enough
calling, we shall rule over them and use them to take over
the world. However, we need something to be our signature
kookiness. Any suggestions?
[SOL]
Mike: Well, If I was going to be a net.kook, I would post long
messages about how God is communicating to me through
breakfast cereals. Those seven marshmallows in Lucky Charms
are actually symbols of the Seven Signs of the Second Coming!
Beware--TRIX IS EVERYWHERE!!! What about you, Tom?
Tom: I would smell conspiracy in everything--government, the
media, organized religion, etc.
Mike: How is that different that any of the other net.kooks?
Tom: Iąd post everything in binary!
Mike: Oooooh, good! Now you, Crow.
Crow: I would claim that aliens are trying to steal our
fingernails. All those cattle mutilations resulted from
their stealing the horns, which everyone knows is composed of
material similar to that in our fingernails.
Mike: You donąt have any fingernails. What about you, Gypsy?
Gypsy: Iąd scan the Internet for any mention of Richard Basehart.
Then Iąd reply with invitations to join the Holy Church of
Basehart and call for the overthrow of the Pope.
Mike: Howąs that, Dr. Forester?
[Deep 13. Frank is busy writing down the suggestions.]
Forester: Very good, Nelson. Now itąs time for your experiment.
And speaking of net.kooks, hereąs some sort of strange
creative writing from alt.alien.visitor. Abuse it or lose it.
[SOL]
All: Weąve got USENET SIGN!!!!!!
[6...5...4...3...2...1...]
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>
>
>Johnson's Last War -- 1
>
>From: germ...@aol.com (Germannvh)
>Date: 18 Feb 1995 22:07:39 -0500
>Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364)
>Newsgroups: alt.alien.visitors
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>
>
> Johnson's Last War
Crow: For 57 miles.
> "There's one sure thing.
Tom: Death and Taxes.
Mike: Thatąs two.
Tom: Oh.
> If any other race tried to muscle
>in here, there'd be one hell of a fight. They'd have to finish
>us off before they could settle here."
>
> --Donald Keyhoe
Crow: Tee.
> 's friend Jim Riordan, 1953.
>
>
> (1)
>
> Hal Johnson was waking up again in a cold sweat.
Crow: Football practice!
> He was
>having another one of those dreams,
Tom: I had the dream about the peach again.
> a dream which found him back
>in the army again, in Germany.
Mike: Hoganąs Heroes. I canąt believe Iąm back in Hoganąs Heroes.
> It was funny,
Crow: Ha, ha, ha--wait. I donąt get it.
> he hardly ever
>dreamed about Long An province, he dreamed about Germany.
>Compared with Germany The Republic of Vietnam
Tom: When did Germany unite with Vietnam?
Mike: I think he meant ŚCompared with Germany *,* The Republic of
VietnamŠą
> had seemed almost
>civilized. The enemy in Germany made the Viet Cong look totally
>behind the times.
>
> Hal could smell that smell,
Mike: He could also see that sight, hear that sound...
> the smell of an oiled M-16. It
>was a strange smell because M-16 oil looked like mayonaise
Mike: When did mayonnaise stop being mayonnaise and become salad
dressing?
> and
>smelled like nothing else. And he could hear an M-16 being
>operated, a sound like nothing else. Hal had fired Expert with
>both the M-14 and M-16 and, like
Crow: Nothing else.
> all who had used both, preferred
>the former over the latter. Until he had to carry one.
>
> Then it came. Boooommmm!!! The sound of a high-powered
>rifle being fired in a confined space. Hal exploded
Tom: Cool! Just like in Scanners!
> into
>wakefullness, his heart pounding and his ears ringing. Christ,
>that thing was fired right here!
Mike: Look out! Itąs Jesus, and heąs packing heat!
> He was in a bunk, an army bunk. In front of his face about
>two feet away was that familiar pattern of wires holding up
Tom: Howdy Doody.
> the
>mattress above. He was laying on an army blanket, a rough one,
>soaked in his own
Crow: Uri-
Mike: [grabs beak]
> sweat.
>
> The room was almost dark.
Tom: But he couldnąt tell for sure. It was hard to see.
> To his right, that sound again,
>the sound of an M-16 being operated. Someone was sitting beside
>him, holding the weapon. Hal tried to focus,
Mike: Better one? Better two?
> tried to see. The
>person with the M-16 was looking out to the right, behind Hal's
>head. That's where the light was coming from.
Tom: The light was coming from his head?
> The face was
>strained, frightened. The hands on the gun were small, a woman's
>hands. It was a woman, a girl even.
Crow: As opposed to a girl odd?
Tom: You mean like k.d. lang?
> She turned towards him and
>started. "You're awake," she said.
Mike: You have an incredible ability for stating the obvious.
> Hal was almost in a panic. He couldn't take this situation
>in fast enough. The girl was forcing the weapon on him.
Crow: Oh wow! Talk about role reversal!
Mike: The gun, Crow! Heąs talking about the gun!
> "Here,"
>she said, "You take this, you know how to use it." She said this
>quickly, urgently,
Mike: Redundantly.
> but under control. Hal had the feeling that
>something awful was going to happen.
Tom: This story was going to continue.
> "They're coming," she said. "We have to kill them."
>
> The girl jumped up and went to the open door. Hal sat up
>on the edge of the bunk, amazed. The weapon went right to his
Crow: Pants.
>hands as he looked out the door into a lighted corridor. He
>looked down at the floor and saw that it was PSP,
All: [singing] LSD, DMT, STP, BLT, cigarettes, shoe polishŠ
[MiSTerąs note: Ref that!]
> pressed steel
>plate, an all-purpose construction material from the Vietnam era.
>What the hell was going on here?
Mike: How should we know? Weąre only the audience.
> Boooommmm!!! Another high-powered rifle shot! Hal jumped
>up, striking his head on the frame of the upper bunk.
Crow: Doh! Itąs humor in uniform!
> It almost
>knocked him out and he went to one knee. Christ did that hurt!
>Suddenly a hand was under his right arm, dragging him to his
>feet. "Get ready," the girl almost screamed.
>
> Hal saw that she had a .45 auto in her other hand.
Mike: And a ą57 Chevy in the garage.
> She
>turned and peeked out into the corridor and then jumped back.
>Booooommm! The bullet
Crow: Steve McQueen in Bullet!
> ripped past the door opening. Hal was on
>the deck
Tom: All Hal on deck.
> before he knew it, cringing in terror. That sound, it
>was unmistakable.
Mike: It was like nothing else.
> Hal could not believe it. Someone was trying
>to kill this girl. What the hell was going on here!
Tom: How should we...
Mike: We did that already, Tom.
> "We've got to kill them!" She was screaming now.
Crow: Now! Now! Now!
Mike: Thatąs not what he meant.
> "They
>are going to kill us!"
Tom: Why? Because you--are going--to DIE!!
> Boooommm!! Another shot blasted by the door
>and Hal heard it hit a wall some distance to the right. Hal was
>looking under the bunk.
Crow: Thatąs where my Optimus Prime went! And my G.I. Joes, too!
> There was a steel pot and four baseball
>grenades.
Mike: Oh, man! Whereąs Nolan Ryan when you need him?
> He could not believe it. He could now hear shouting,
>obscenitites. Worse. A little of his training came back.
Tom: Ahhhhh! His trainingąs coming back! Hide!
> He grabbed a grenade and struggled to his feet. He looked
>at his new companion. She was shocked
Crow: Michelle Shocked.
> to see the small green
>ball he held in his hand. She said, "Throw it." Hal pulled the
>pin. He had the feeling the people trying to kill them were very
>close. Very close.
Tom: Very close. Very close. Very...
Mike: We get the point, Tom.
> He released the grenade's handle, counted to
Mike: Ninety seven.
> three and then
>threw the thing kitty-cornered down the hallway to the left. He
>could not believe what he was doing. It hit the opposite wall
>and he could hear it rattling as it rolled away.
Crow: [singing] Shake, rattle, and roll!
> They both dove
>to the left onto another bunk hoping that no splinters reflected
>back into the room. He heard someone very close swear. Then the
>grenade went off. Boom!!!
Tom: How come the guns make bigger explosions than the grenades?
> A few fragments DID reflect back
>into the room, hitting the wall behind them and snapping around
>the space above their heads. It all took just a couple of seconds
>and then it was quiet.
All: Too quiet!
> Except for this high- pitched ringing in
>Hal's ears. That was a bit loud.
>
> His companion was already moving again. She was at the
>door, peeking out to the left. Then she stepped out and fired
>her pistol. Boom! Then she fired it again. Boom!
Crow: Bang! Bang!
Tom: Ratatatatatatat!
Mike: Fall down! I shot you! You have to fall down!
> She was moving
>down the hallway. "I'm going to kill every last one of these
>fuckin' Martians," she said.
Mike: Whoa! Sounds like Marvinąs gone too far.
>
> (2)
>
> Bill Johnson
Crow: Wait! I thought it was Hal. Whatąs going on here?
> was on his way to work when the large black
>car pulled into his driveway. The men were very polite
Mike: As they repeatedly kneed him in the groin.
> and
>explained that they would call his employer and explain that Bill
>would not be in today, that he was on government business.
Tom: Like his boss will believe that.
Crow: Hello, Jim? Yeah, I canąt make it in for work today. The
government needs me on a top secret mission.
>Before he knew what was happening Bill Johnson was on his way to
All: Broadway!
>the airport and a small commercial airliner.
Tom: Weąll return to our regularly scheduled plane, right
after these commercial airliners.
> Two hours later he
>was attending a conference with nineteen other people, none of
>whom he knew but some of whom he had seen--on TV.
Mike: There was Susan Powers and Regis Philbin and Kramer and...
> The man in charge of the conference was big and rumpled.
Crow: He was a paper bag.
>He was a famous scientist. He explained that because he, Bill,
Tom: Hey, the scientistąs name is Bill, too!
All: Hi Bill.
>had been in the military he was, in effect, still under orders.
>Bill protested that he had his "separation papers." The
>scientist said, "Doesn't matter, you're stuck."
Tom: Ha, ha, ha. YOUąRE STUCK HERE!
> Then he said,
>"We need you."
Mike: Join us!
> With nineteen men, many of them in uniform and
>others of them famous, staring at him intently Bill could say
>only one thing,
Crow: łGiant flaming monkey chunks!˛
> "Well, of course, if that's the case, of course
>I'll help."
Mike: Of course.
> He saw that the nineteen smiles were genuine. And he
>realized that he could have said no.
Crow: Sucker!
> Fifteen minutes later Bill had been sworn in
Tom: Heąs president now?
> and had
>signed several documents promising he would never reveal
Mike: What those eleven herbs and spices are.
> what was
>going to happen to him over the next several hours. The
>penalties were severe.
Crow: Death with no chance of parole.
> Bill was a little offended and told his
>new companions so. "I am doing this because I am a loyal
>American," he said. "I know the reasons for secrecy."
Tom: He knows the reasons for secrecy?
Mike: I guess secrecy is general knowledge.
> But they
>made him sign anyway. Bill consoled himself with the thought
>that at least this bizarre signing ceremony meant that he would
>be coming back. That was something encouraging. It meant that
>maybe there was no danger, just as the scientist had said.
Tom: [Bill] Whatąs this say? Last Will and-
Crow: [rumpled scientist] Just sign the stupid thing.
> It wasn't even noon yet when the modified fighter plane
>took off with Bill in the rear seat. There were no instruments
>and no controls in his half of the cockpit. He could not speak
>to the pilot. But the pilot could, and did, talk to him.
Mike: He kept saying something about łrefueling.˛
> Bill
>was told that the plane was a modified RF-101 Voodoo and it could
>maintain mach 2.2 for a considerable time.
Tom: Almost five whole minutes.
> He noticed that twice
>in the two-hour flight he found himself looking down on
>commercial jets.
Mike: Stupid bourgeoisie jets.
> The plane landed in the desert, in the middle
>of nowhere. In a minute Bill was taken into the one building in
>sight anywhere
Tom: All other buildings everywhere are out of sight.
> and whisked into an elevator which seemed to go
>down a considerable distance.
Crow: Journey to the center of Los Alamos!
> Soon he was in another conference
>room
Mike: [teacher] Iąm afraid that Johnny is having a hard time
keeping up in class.
> with some very serious people talking to him about things
>he could not believe.
Tom: Make.Money.Fast without leaving your computer.
> He was told that he was to witness a ceremony involving the
>President Of The United States.
Crow: It was called łSucking Up to the Republicans.˛
> But he was to be more than a
>witness. He would be asked several questions and he would have
>to answer truthfully. Upon his answers might depend the success
>or failure of the entire ceremony.
Tom: No pressure on him.
> Bill could not believe this.
>He said, "What kind of questions will I be asked?"
Mike: Trivial Pursuit, the 80ąs Edition.
> His new
>friends were not much help. "We have no idea," they replied.
>And they wouldn't tell him who would be asking the questions.
>
> Minutes later Bill was taken down
Crow: By a crack hired assassin.
> a corridor and into what
>looked for all the world like the same commercial airliner he had
>been on earlier. There were about 20 seats arranged along a
>central isle. Bill was shown to the rear of the plane and took
>his seat--directly across from the President.
Crow: Why is the President flying coach?
> "Glad to meet
>you," the President said, "You were exactly what we were looking
>for."
Tom: Patriotic and dumber than dirt.
> Bill could only shake the offered hand and mumble
>something stupid.
>
> About this time the plane "took off" although Bill could
>not really feel anything.
Mike: Twenty years of marriage had left him emotionally drained.
> He had fastened his seat belt when the
>sign flashed on and had attempted to open the shutter of his
>window. It wouldn't budge. But Bill wasn't surprised by that.
Crow: Bill is fatalistic.
>All of this was a secret, wasn't it? No one said anything to
>Bill as the flight progressed. Everyone aboard was quiet, even
>somber. Most were consulting documents, including the President.
>Bill could only wonder
Tom: Who, who, who wrote the book of love.
> what it could all be about.
>
>End, Part 1/3
>
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MiSTing to be continued after spring break.