X2-MST3K (1/4)
Kielle
The officialiciously official sequel to X-MST3K
By Kelly Newcomb (kie...@subreality.com)
Most host segments by Greg Newcomb (doc...@aol.com)
Author's notes, from Kielle: Well...here it is. The one, the
only, the follow-up to my startlingly-popular multiple-online-
award-winning "X-MST3K." Good lord I'm nervous. I hope
this stacks up to your expectations, seeing as some of you have
been lusting for this for over two YEARS. <gulp> I hope you
like it. Feedback is coveted desperately; please ask to archive,
I'll say yes of course and even provide you with a spiffy
HTMLed copy. And YES, I DO have Andrew's permission to
post this, although he has requested that I change a few of the
names to protect the annoyed. I have done so. Deal. ;)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: See the end of this, please.
DISCLAIMER: The MST3K cast & crew belong to the Best
Brains; Marvel's characters belong to Marvel; Andrew's
characters and original text belong to Andrew; and anything
else mentioned in here that I did not invent out of thin air
belong to their respective owners. No harm is intended and no
profit is being made unless you can cash giggles in at the bank.
WARNING: There IS a little bit of bad language in this story,
more than the Best Brains would use...but it's only in one tiny
spot, and Andrew started it! Honest!
One last thing: I have also been asked by many readers of the
LAST installment to tell you NOT to read this while you're
eating or drinking -- especially if over a keyboard at the time.
Consider yourself warned. ;) Fasten your seatbelts. Here we
goooo...
.-=K=-.
(and Doc Nuke)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Scene: the bridge of the SOL. Fog billows across the control
panel. From the fog emerges Crow’s beak. The voice of Tom
Servo is heard in the background, humming a hauntingly
familiar tune...]
TOM: Doo doo, doo, do-da-doo doo.
CROW: Every generation has a legend...
TOM: Da-doo, da-doo-do-do-do-dee-da-doo...
CROW: Every journey has a first step...
TOM: Da-doo, DA-DO DA-DO DA-DOO-DOO, do-do-do-
dee-dee-doo...
CROW: Every saga has a beginning...
TOM: Do da-doo. [Makes breathing sounds] *Co-chee*
*Co-chee*!
TOM & CROW: DA-DUH-DA-DA! DA!! DA-DUH-DA
DUHHH DUHHH!!!!
[The 'bots now begin running around wildly and running into
each other.]
CROW: You speak of the one that will bring balance to The
Force. You believe it is this boy?
TOM: He can see things before they happen!
[Gypsy pops up behind the control counter.]
GYPSY: He can help you...
TOM: The Force is unusually strong with him.
GYPSY: He was meant to help you!
CROW: [aside] Not bad, Gypsy...
GYPSY: Thank you.
TOM: Ah-hem! ANAKIN!
CROW: Oh, yeah!
[Crow holds up a plastic sword.]
CROW: Vommmm, buzz! Take that, Rob Roy!
TOM: Tell them to take-off!
CROW: Are you sure?
TOM: Well, no, but...
CROW: Ah...okay. [Sweetly] Will I ever see you again?
GYPSY: What does your heart tell you?
CROW: Well...
TOM: Huh...
GYPSY: Mike, it's your line!
[Cambot pans over to Mike who is wearing white face make-
up, large moose-antlers, and a kimono.]
MIKE: Guys, look this is fun and all, but I don't know if really
want to do this part.
CROW: Sheesh, Mike!
TOM: Nelson, usually I put up with your human frailties, but
for the love of Lucas, say those lines before I open up a can of
Wookiee on you!
MIKE: Okay, sorry Servo, boy. [Looks at a script] Are you
sure about this? Trusting our fate to a boy we hardly know?
TOM: Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi.
CROW: Ooh, the smooth "Trainspotting" Kenobi, and not the
wrinkly "Liverspotting" one!
TOM: Crow!
CROW: Sorry. [Holds up a green sock.] There is much fear
in you!
TOM: The boy is dangerous. They all sense it, why can't you?
CROW: Fear is the path of the Dark Side!
TOM: DUH-DUH-DUH!
CROW: Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate...
TOM: DUH-DUM-DUH!!
CROW: Hate leads to suffering!
MIKE: And more sequels.
[Crow and Tom loudly scream out the last few chords of music
while subsequently racing about bashing each other with plastic
swords. Tom's dome falls off and Crow loses an eye.]
CROW: And now the second trailer!
TOM: Yeah, dibs on Princess Giant-Headgear and Mike can be
Jar-Jar Binks!
[Commercial sign flashes.]
MIKE: Umm, we've got Commercial Sign. We'll be right back.
[Yet another commercial for Farscape, First Wave, and The
Burning Zone. By the time you read this, however, all three
have in all likelihood been cancelled. Hmm.]
[SOL Bridge again. Mike is center. Tom and Crow have their
heads buried in various magazines with Episode 1 on the
cover.]
MIKE: Hello, everyone, welcome to the Satellite of Love. As
you can tell, Crow and Tom are a little bit excited about the
new Star Wars movie.
CROW: [reading] All this hype is great! It's like we've seen the
movie already.
TOM: [reading] I could exist on spoilers and behind-the-scenes
news alone.
CROW: [reading] Did you see this? Jabba the Hutt will be in
Episode One, but instead of a big rubber puppet with Little
People inside, he will be full of digital Little People.
TOM: [reading] Oh yeah, I saw that on Access Hollywood.
According to Vanity Fair, Episode One will finally explain why
Boba Fett is so popular despite having only twenty minutes
total screen time and less than five lines.
CROW: [reading] Well, in National Geographic's Episode One
issue they have an amusing piece about how the entire cast
kept finding Mark Hamill loitering around, and they had to
keep chasing him off the lot and telling him that his character
wasn't even born yet, and Hamill could only reply that he had
nowhere else to go.
TOM: [reading] That's almost a cute as the American Medical
Journal's Episode One article about how all of the white battle
droids pulled a prank by climbing on a bus and pretending they
were going to the airport. Later they all showed up again
wearing "Revenge Of The Battle Droids" T-shirts. Classic!
MIKE: So, isn't "Phantom Menace" kinda dopey sounding?
Like a guy in a tux and a little white half-mask is chasing you
around.
[Crow and Tom slowly lower their magazines and stare at
Mike intensely. He looks around for a place to escape, but is
interrupted by the flashing red light.]
MIKE: Excuse me, guys, but Pearl is calling.
[Castle Forrester. The castle interior is littered with odd
displays of models and hanging props. A table with
autographed pictures sits near the entrance. Several people in
T-shirts and sweats are milling around.]
PEARL: Hello, Nel-bone and Robots. Welcome to CON-
FAB-ULON!
[SOL]
MIKE: What?
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: I realized that there are big bucks to be made off of
science fiction conventions. These poor idiots will slam down
fifty big ones a day just to look at some crap that "allegedly"
came from one of their precious little Roddenberry-sanctioned
bundles of fluff. With that kind of easy cash, world domination
can't be far behind. Brain Guy is showing some of the first
victims around the merchandise room.
[The Observer is near the table full of autographs.]
OBSERVER: Get your fabulous full-color Star Trek
autographs from this table. Choose from three fan favorites:
Garret Wang, Wil Wheaton and Robin Curtis.
CON-GOER 1: [Peter Rudrud] Don't you have any Leonard
Nimoy?
OBSERVER: Who?
CON-GOER 2: [Beez] You know, Spock?
OBSERVER: I've never met the gentleman.
[The Observer moves to a hanging rack of pants that get larger
and larger.]
OBSERVER: Here we have a collection of trousers from Star
Trek's James "Scotty" Doohan. They are in chronological and
sizealogical order from '66 to the present.
[The Observer moves to a table featuring a bottle of blue
spray-cleaner with a picture of Samuel L. Jackson on it.]
OBSERVER: This is a rare preview item from Star Wars
Episode 1. This is some Mace Windex.
[He courteously pauses for the chorus of groans then moves to
a table with videotapes stacked high on it.]
OBSERVER: Available only here at Con-Fab-Ulon, we
present complete episodes of great sci-fi shows that no one
wanted. Included are Space Precinct, Space Rangers, Space:
Above And Beyond, and Babylon 5: Crusade. Please give
these shows a home.
[The Observer moves to a large cage where Bobo is
imprisoned. The con-goers gawk and point.]
CON-GOER 2: My gosh, is he real?
BOBO: Of course I'm real, what did you expect?
OBSERVER: Here we have a simian not unlike those seen in
Fox's "Planet Of The Apes" movies.
BOBO: I come from a future world where apes evolve from
man. It can really happen!
CON-GOER 1: Do you know Charlton Heston?
BOBO: I know he likes guns!
[SOL]
MIKE: Wow, that's something, Mrs. Forrester. How can we
help?
CROW: I know! I know! [as Jonathan Harris] We can tell
the dear folks about our days Lost In Space!
TOM: Danger! Danger!
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Actually, I was thinking that you three should just do,
you know, that thing it is you do. Like all great sci-fi cons, we
intend to have a special screening.
[SOL]
CROW & TOM: Episode One???
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: No, but close. It's Episode Two actually. Brain Guy.
OBSERVER: Yes, Madame. Mike, your special Con-Fab-
Ulon screening today is the second part of something you
should find, oh, let's just say hauntingly familiar.
PEARL: Once this monster rots these suckers' mind, they'll buy
anything...even this slightly used Shatner girdle! HA HA
HA!!!
[SOL]
ALL: We've got Movie Sign!!!!!!
[The usual chaos breaks loose as Mike and the bots are forced
towards the Theater Of Pain...]
[Bridge...1...2...3...4...5...6...theater]
> Well, welcome to my second story. It's much better then
> the first.
TOM: [settling into his seat next to Mike] Because THIS time
I knew how to use the space bar!
> You may want to read the Secret Files of Weapon X before
> you read this.
CROW: Uh...huh? I don't like the look of this...
TOM: I have to agree with Crow. This rings some ugly bells.
MIKE: Now let's not jump to conclusions. It could just be a
old Wolverine story.
CROW: Oh like THAT helps.
> It gives a character Bio and history of most of my characters,
> so it's helpful. Well, I hope you enjoy this. I'ts not finished
> yet, so check back for updates!
CROW: I am officially getting scared here...
> avin...@sewickley-acad.pvt.k12.pa.us
MIKE: That address...that address IS strangely familiar...
TOM: (in dawning realization) She wouldn't be so cruel! She
WOULDN'T--!
> -Andrew "FaBoO" Vincent
ALL: NOOOOOOOOOoooooOOoooOOOOOOO!!!
CROW: [almost hysterical] No no no no no no...I was just
kidding when I said all that stuff about "X II," I swear! I've
been a good 'bot! PLEASE make it go away! WAAAAH!!! I
wan' my m-m-mommy...
TOM: Mike, you promised you'd kill me if we had to go
through this! You promised!
MIKE: I did not!
TOM: WELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE!!!
[Tom starts banging his head against the back of his seat.
Crow is sobbing. Mike is nibbling on his fingernails and
struggling to stay calm. Unexpectedly, he leaps to his feet and,
much to the 'bots' amazement, starts pacing furiously in front
of the screen, punching one fist into his other palm, trying to
sound tough and McArthur-ish. Of course, he pretty much still
sounds like Mike (ie."nice"), but he's trying. Give him that.]
MIKE: I say that we've put up with this for too long! Are we
men or mice? Never mind, don't answer that. I say we show
her what we're made of! I say we show her some backbone!
TOM: Just think what she'll DO to that backbone, Mike. The
term "calcium windchimes" comes to mind.
CROW: [snickering] Yeah, whatcha gonna do, Mike? Show
her some *guts*?
MIKE: I can't believe you guys are afraid of her.
CROW: Nah. We're not the ones who need oxygen.
TOM: Saaaay, just how DOES she still maintain control over
the Satellite of Love, anyway? Deep Thirteen hasn't existed for
hundreds of years.
MIKE: That's right...hmm...hmmmmm... [snap of the fingers]
Say! Maybe she's bluffing?
CROW: She sure wasn't bluffing that time she went on a
camping trip and shut down our power for the night.
TOM: Crow, Crow, Crow, you know better than to confuse
him with logic.
MIKE: Uh -- right. [does a suspicious doubletake at Tom as if
to assure himself that he's not being made fun of] That's
not...uhhh...damn. Where was I?
CROW: About to cower meekly under the oppressive fist of
Forrester, as always?
MIKE: Look, hey, I...well, maybe...oh cut it out, now I've
totally lost my train of thought.
TOM: Hush, child. Fanfic starting.
> PROLOGUE
ALL: [general pitiful whimpering]
MIKE: We can do this...we can do this...but if it turns out that
we can't, I get dibs on the cyanide Kool-Aid.
> Earth is a beautiful planet. The oceans look pure blue,
> and the clouds create patterns that can only be seen from the
> sky, and that's where I am.
CROW: Woo-hoo! I'm so high you could bounce the Disney
Channel off of me!
> I'm not exactly in the sky.
TOM: I could be on the ground, or underwater. Some days I
have trouble telling the difference.
> I'm in a space station that the world doesn't even know
> exists. I am in Avalon, a sanctuary for mutants. It protects
> them from the hatred that the world has toward them.
CROW: Except for the occasional random nuclear warhead,
but hey! what's a few accidents between neighbors?
> Avalon is also a hacker's dream. It is all computers.
> It seems that there is a computer down every hall and in
> every room.
MIKE: We regularly sacrifice virgins to the Glory of
Microsoft.
TOM: [deep voice] Yo! Andrew! Stop kicking and get your
toga-clad butt up on that altar! Sheesh. Some people just can't
handle a little sacrificing...
> After spending a week there, I had been into almost every
> government file, including the rare "Project Blue Book".
> There was nothing I didn't know.
CROW: So how many licks DOES it take to get to the center
of a Tootsie Pop, wise guy?
> "Sire," said Colossus. Oh yeah. Did I mention that they
> worshiped me here?
[stunned silence]
MIKE: Did he just say...
CROW: ...what I THINK he said?
TOM: Ayep.
[More stunned silence. Then...]
ALL: KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!!!!!!!
[All three leap up and charge out of the theater, intent upon
drawing blood. A few moments later they file back in, looking
generally sheepish.]
MIKE: [walking into range] ...had his address from the first
one so I really thought we had a chance of stopping him before
he breeds...pity we can't get down to Earth huh?
TOM: Yeah...wasn't it nice when we were all throw 500 years
into the future and could savor the fact that all fanfic writers
had been wiped out along with the rest of the human race?
CROW: Yeah, but the fact that Butterfingers Nelson here had
blown up the entire Earth meant that we couldn't go do the
Monkey on their graves.
MIKE: Stop rubbing that in, wouldja?
> "Exodus is ready to take the recovery team down to Earth.
> Will you be coming with us?"
TOM: [Andrew] No way. I'm going to stay up here and pick
you off from orbit. Have fun, target-boy!
> "Yes," I said. "Tell Exodus that I will be ready in a
> matter of minutes."
MIKE: [Andrew, campy] Hey, what do you think he'd like
better, the blue chiffon or this snazzy little black number I
picked up the last time we carpetbombed Paris?
> "Yes Sire," said Colossus. As he walked down the hall,
> a memory came to me.
TOM: Somebody take a look into this kid's ear -- I think that
poor memory died of malnutrition in there.
> A memory of a family. Not my own family, but of a different
> one.
CROW: Yeah, I know what he means -- sometimes I get vivid
Cosby flashbacks too...
> A family of many people, none of which were brothers and
> sisters, just all grouped together trying to survive.
[All start intensely humming the Battlestar Galactica theme]
> The memory started to fade. I tried to hold on to it, but it
> seemed impossible. It left my mind.
MIKE: Short trip.
> I started to walk down the hall again. <SFISCH>
TOM: Ah, so they're using doors from the Star Trek: Next
Generation set!
> The air in front of me turned yellow.
MIKE: [Andrew] Oh, THERE you are, Discharge!
BOTH BOTS: Ewww!
> "My Lord, we await your arrival in the teleportation
> room," said Exodus. "Today we go to the school where
> you were once educated."
CROW: [deadpan] Oh, the sarcasm. Oh, the irony. Alas and
alack. Mike? KILL ME!!!
> "Yes, I remember," I said. That was one of the few
> memories that I still had.
TOM: Along the one about not smiling at gorillas. Maybe
someday that one will come in useful.
> I remember school, and a friendship. A friendship that was
> so strong that nothing could break it.
MIKE: Except the prospect of starring in his own fanfic, which
of course he took like a shot.
TOM: [Andrew] Rory who? Sorry, no time to chat, I'm too
busy pretending that the X-Men like me.
> "My Lord, it would be quicker if I teleported us both to
> the terminal."
CROW: [Exodus] Of course, we COULD end up as a fine
paste on the terminal floor, but at least the story'd be shorter.
> "Fine, Exodus. Teleport away."
TOM: Please!
> <SFISCH>
ALL: [jump in their seats as if startled] AAAH!
> X, Part II
> The New Age of Mutants
MIKE: [sigh] On any other day, we'd just have to start singing
"The Age Of Apocalypse" at this
point, but right now we're too depressed.
TOM: You said it, brutha.
> The Mutant Legacy
ALL: Oh, shut up.
> CHAPTER 1
TOM: [deep and dramatic] Arrakis. Dune. Desert planet...
> "Welcome to a new school year," says Mr. Clark.
CROW: [a la Mr. Mackey] Mmm-kay?
> "We hope that this year will be the greatest year that
> Sewickley Academy has had yet.
MIKE: [Mr. Clark] Now that we've finally gotten rid of
Vincent...
> With our new seventh graders, and our new ninth graders,
CROW: We won't discuss that little incident involving a school
bus carrying the entire eighth-grade class and its "accidental"
plunge into an active volcanic crater...
TOM: What, they took a field trip to Los Angeles?
CROW: [rimshot]
MIKE: [greatly pained] No Tommy Lee Jones jokes. Don't
start. Please. I'll get screaming "Two-Face" flashbacks and
you'll have to defibrillate me again.
> this year holds quite a bit of potential.
TOM: Quite unlike the entire ninth grade, mind you...
> And now here's Mr. Zaluski."
MIKE: [Mr. Clark] And just in case your parents ask about
Mr. Zaluski's sudden reinstatement, I am happy to announce
the medication worked, the charges have been dropped, and he
no longer has to wear a muzzle around the girls' volleyball
team.
> There is a moment of polite applause from the crowd of
> students,
CROW: Except for those two tenth-graders snogging away in
the back of the auditorium. You know who you are!
> for none of them are very excited to be back in school.
TOM: That, and the fact that most of them are stoned out of
their minds.
> Suddenly, the stage emits a great yellow light from behind
> the brown curtains. A hush falls over the students.
MIKE: No, those are ceiling tiles.
> "BUT BEFORE WE GET ON WITH THE
> ASSEMBLY, WE HAVE SOMETHING A LITTLE
> DIFFERENT FOR YOU!!!,"
CROW: AAAAH! CAPS LOCK! JERK!!!
> booms a loud voice over the stereo system. The curtains
> flew open.
TOM: Ground Control, we have verb-tense shift -- repeat, we
HAVE verb-tense shift...
> Exodus stood on center stage. Behind him was the gigantic
> figure of Delgado.
MIKE: Ah. So are we supposed to stuff money into their
tights or what?
> Other Acolytes stood around Exodus. It was truly a sight to
> behold.
TOM: Well, yes, but so's [breaking into song] the biggest ball
of twine in Minnesooo-ta!
> "We come here today not to harm you, but to save four of
> you from certain death.
CROW: The rest of you losers are going on "Singled Out"
whether you like it or not. Don't make me have to break out
the cattle prod.
> But before we begin, let me introduce you all to our savior,
> SHADOW!" A burst of smoke. A shadow-like figure. An
> awed silence. A shout.
ALL: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--!
MIKE, Hey, pretty good, guys. That didn't sound a thing like
our scream in the preview at the end of "X."
CROW: [modestly] We've been practicing.
> "Who are you, and what do you want," shouted Mr.
> Clark.
CROW: Geez, I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition.
TOM: NOOObody inquests the Spanish Exqui-- Oh drat. I'll
come in again.
CROW: Uh, sorry, no you won't. That joke's already as dead
as a Constantine girl.
> "Nothing that has to do with you," I said. "Exodus,
> read the names."
CROW: Roderick?
MIKE: Welease Wodewick!
> "Will the following people please come up onto the
> stage.
CROW: Ryan?
MIKE: Welease Wyan!
> If you are to frightened, we will send someone to help you,"
> said Exodus. "Rory White."
CROW: Rory White?
MIKE: Weleeeeease Wowy White!
TOM: Erm, guys? I think we're now well over today's quota
of Monty Python jokes.
CROW: There can NEVER be too many Monty Python jokes.
> I walked into the crowd, looking for him.
MIKE: [Andrew] Rory? Rory! Here boy! Heeeere boy!
[whistles, then mutters] ...swear I'm
gonna have him neutered...
> Again, I was reminded of our friendship that we had once had.
TOM: Some friendship. He can't even remember what Rory
looks like -- and on top of that, Rory's hiding from him!
> Someone stood up.
> "I'm Rory White," said that someone. Another person
> stood up.
CROW: Uh, heh heh, hi, I'm NOT Rory White, I just had a leg
cramp. Sorry.
> "No, I'm Rory White." Soon, there were ten people
> standing up, claiming to be Rory White.
TOM: Several others stood up and claimed to be Spartacus,
but they were ignored.
> I looked them over. I saw a familiar face in the crowd. As I
> rushed towards him, he started to punch and kick at me.
CROW: God, who wouldn't?
> I immediately remembered the times when we had attacked
> each other for fun.
MIKE: Uhhh...what? Guys? Does this make ANY sense to
either of you?
TOM: Nope.
CROW: Not a word.
MIKE: Oh good, for a moment there I thought I was going
mad. [He shakes his head and sinks lower in his seat,
muttering "...the first time I had never had before..."]
> We didn't hurt each other, but I could clearly remember his
> fighting style.
TOM: Unfortunately, it involved saliva and his trademarked
"coup-de-wedgie."
> He always was more aggressive, and defense was no where
> in his vocabulary.
CROW: Along with the rest of the "D"s and pretty much
everything beyond the letter "J."
> I grabbed his leg on its way down from a kick that had
> missed me by mere inches.
TOM: Ah! I understand his style now: "Scream-And-
Leap"...only less effective.
> I lifted his leg up, and painlessly took him to the ground.
MIKE: There is something distinctly WRONG with this. Don't
ask me to describe it -- just take my word for it. WRONG!
WRONG! WRONG!!!
> "Rory, stop this," I whispered to him. "It's me,
> Andrew."
CROW: [Rory] And that's supposed to be reassuring? You're
dragging me into one of your stupid fanfics, aren't you?
Excuse me while I hang myself with my own tongue...
> When I said that, my power to make myself invisible in
> shadows stopped, and my eyes lost their green flash. My
> face was clearly visible now.
TOM: And then Rory REALLY started fighting like a crazed
schnauzer!
> "Andrew?" Rory asked.
CROW: [Andrew] No, I'm Dana Delaney. Of COURSE I'm
Andrew!
> "Yep, it's me. Now don't worry.
MIKE: I'd make the obvious pun here, but I hear that Bobby
McFerrin's lawyers are kept perky on a strict diet of human
flesh...
> Avalon isn't that bad, and since your my friend, you'll get a
> lot of perks throughout your new home.
TOM: Booze, babes, all-night Quake marathons, your own
personal nuclear warhead, the occasional painful genetic
restructuring...
> Trust me. Now just go stand up on stage, unless you want
> to help me find the other mutants."
CROW: [Andrew] Awww, c'mon Rory! Don't be such a
boring old poop! Betraying your own species is fun!
> "I'll help you, Andrew," Rory said. I gave him my hand,
> and I helped him up.
TOM: [Andrew] Now give me back my hand, you schmuck.
> "Who's next, Exodus?" I asked.
MIKE: [Exodus] You, sir. How about a hot oil massage?
CROW: Urgh. You didn't HAVE to do there, did you...?
> "A girl named Sarah Hylund," said Exodus. "I believe
> she is in Rory's grade."
CROW: Woo! That Andrew really knows how to pick up the
chicks! Show up with a pack of Magneto's Acolytes and
forcibly kidnap 'em!
TOM: Come to think of it, how else COULD a seventh-grader
pick up chicks?
> "Now folks. Let's not do the same thing we did when I
> came to find Rory.
TOM: [Andrew] This time, shoot to kill.
> If you do, I might have to kill you.
CROW: Oh, RIGHT. The worst Andrew could possibly do to
Exodus is soil his shinguards.
> And anyway, Rory goes to this school, and he knows a lot of
> you. I also went to this school, but that doesn't matter.
MIKE: Hey, he said it, not us.
TOM: This is far too easy.
CROW: Psst! Mike! Kill me!
> So, will Sarah Hylund please stand up."
CROW: How hard can it be? There's no way they can pull that
stupid "standing up and claiming to be Rory" thing when it
comes to Little Miss Hylund here.
TOM: Oh?
CROW: Sure. Because...There Can Be Only One!
TOM & MIKE: D'OH!
> "No need for that, Andrew," said a female voice from
> behind me.
MIKE: So THAT'S Rory's mutant power! Wow! Rory's HOT!
[All cut loose with kissy noises and wolf whistles]
> "If Rory's going to wherever you came from, so am I." I
> turned around to see a beautiful young woman standing
> beside Rory.
MIKE: Oh. Never mind. I should have known: no teenaged
boy is going to give himself a mutant power which depletes his
testosterone.
TOM: I didn't think there WERE "beautiful young women" in
eighth grade.
CROW: Well, according to certain newsgroups...what? What?
What are you both staring at?
> "Rory, is that Sarah?" I asked.
CROW: [Rory] No, but who cares? I'll take her! Woo!
> "Yeah, this is her," he replied.
> "You know she had a thing for you?"
> "Not until now. Who's next, Exodus?"
TOM: [flatly] Oh. Oh. The dramatic flowering of tender
young love. I am overwhelmed. Fan me before I swoon from
the sheer passionate intensity of this revelation. Mike--
MIKE: No I will NOT kill you. Would you two stop asking
already?
> "A ninth grader who we only know as Flair."
> "Flair!?!" I said. "Is that her real name, or did the
> computer screw up again?
MIKE: Nope, just her parents.
> What kind of a name is Flair?!" The answer I got was a
punch in the face.
[All cheer wildly]
> The punch broke my concentration, my eyes lost their
> strange green flash, and my face became visible to the crowd.
CROW: Who for some reason were suddenly a lot less
intimidated and began to throw bottles at the Acolytes.
> "All right, girly. Now your gonna get it."
MIKE: Amazing! Never a dull moment! Sexism AND brutal
assault with a deadly misused-homonym in the same line--!
> A plasma ball formed in my hand. I turned around. I took
> aim. I got kicked. I fell down.
[All cheer in MORE wildly and shout out various bits of
encouragement like "I LIKE Flair!" "Go Flair!" and "Render
him sterile, Flair!"]
> "No one, I mean no one calls me girly," said the voice of
> Flair. I leapt up from the ground, and took her down.
ALL: Boo!!!!!!
CROW: [lewdly] Lemme just demonstrate my trademark
Greco-Roman full-torso-schwing hold...
TOM: Oh Crow, no.
> When she hit the ground, my armor emitted a knock out gas.
MIKE: [waving his hand] Oh YUCK!!! Whew! That does it:
no more Mexican Fiesta Night up on Avalon!
> "Delgado, take her up on stage, but be careful not to
> hurt her," I said.
TOM: [Andrew] I'm figuring I can probably defeat her while
she's unconscious, but just to be on the safe side I'm going to
wait until we have her thoroughly drugged and wrapped in
adamantium chains before I try it.
MIKE: Naaah. Even unconscious, Flair could kick his butt.
CROW: Oooo, I know. [lovesick sigh]
Continued directly in the next post...tomorrow!