MSTed: Better the Devil You Know (8/8)
T-Bone
CROW: Coming up next: another totally unslanted opinion from yet
another editor of The Daily Feed.
>Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
TOM: This week's special: Ratlipf mispellings ARRRrrr too fore won.
>From: paul.h...@shbbs.demon.co.uk (Paul Hubbard)
KATE: For the evil you have done, prepare to meet Kali in Hell!
CROW: That's a little strong, isn't it?
KATE: Hey, _you've_ read this fanfic ...
>Subject: Better The Devil You Know 7
TOM: Willie Mabon?
KATE: Christian Laettner?
CROW: Grant Hill?
>X-Mail-Agent: GIGO unreg at shbbs vsn 0.99 pl1
TOM: Billy King?
KATE: Mark Alarie?
CROW: Danny Ferry?
>Organization: Silicon Heaven BBS (2200-0630 UTC) (44-1626-834331) V32B
TOM: Quinn Snyder?
KATE: Bobby Hurley?
CROW: Tommy Amaker?
>Date: Wed, 10 Aug 1994 23:41:06 +0000
TOM: Uh, Art Heyman.
KATE: Cherokee Parks.
CROW: Jim Spanarkel.
>Message-ID: <b48_940...@shbbs.demon.co.uk>
TOM: Thomas Hill.
KATE: Johnny Dawkins.
CROW: Alaa Abdelnaby?
>Sender: use...@demon.co.uk
TOM: Chris Collins?
KATE: Mike Krzyzewski?
CROW: Vic Bubas!
>Lines: 61
>
TOM: Hee hee!
CROW and TOM: Bubas! Bubas! Bubas! Bubas!
KATE: Al-RIGHT!
>From: ph...@shbbs.demon.co.uk (Paul Hubbard)
CROW: Gee, Kate, lighten up...
TOM: Yeah, he's just a former coach at Duke...
>
>Better the Devil you know.
KATE: Hey, did the header just lap itself?
>by P.D Hubbard.
CROW: How can I make a bunch of money on a pseudo-religious
organization? (page 36).
>
>Epilogue.
TOM: Now lady trees can get rid of unsightly hair in the root area.
CROW: Epilogue: New from Norelco.
TOM: If you can grow it, we can cut it.
CROW: Epilogue: Official Shaver of Loreena Bobbit.
>
>
KATE: The Daily Feed.
>The Enterprise was currently
TOM: Hey, quit mixing your tenses!
>on route for Starbase 312 for urgent
>repairs.
CROW: Somebody played that awful Foreigner song and now the crew needs
lobotomies to get it out of their heads.
>The damage was severe but nothing that a spacedock
>couldn't cure.
KATE: Or lots of liquor.
>Most of the last day had been spent on the planet
TOM: There was this little boutique that just was to DIE for!
>cataloguing the Human remains found in the pits.
CROW: Ensign Dahmer made quick work of it.
>And it was a
>heartbreaking job for the teams involved.
KATE (weeping): Why couldn't Wesley have been killed? *sniff*
>The finding of the
>remains of a little girl, cuddling a small dog
TOM: I guess Anastasia DID scream in vain.
>brought tears to
>the eyes of the women of the Enterprise.
CROW: The men, of course, were all hardened bastards...
>
>Fourteen crew, including Ensign Cortez, had been lost on this
>mission alone.
KATE: Milk cartons were being distributed throughout the sector.
>Fourteen people who would never be going back to
>their loved ones.
TOM: Fifteen, actually; Riker has never known love.
>For Picard, this was the worst part about
>being the commanding officer.
CROW: Apparently this story took place before Ratliff's Kids Crew.
>For days afterwards, he had spent
>his time in the holodeck,
KATE: Ignoring his duties, being a slacker.
>riding Bessie,
TOM: Saaaaayyyy....
>trying to put the horror
>out of his mind.
CROW: The pain was unbearable; he'll never see The Brothers Grunt again
for as long as he lives.
>
>Picard was spending the morning with his horse,
KATE: Of course
>getting some
>exercise
TOM: He was bench-pressing a clydesdale?
>when the entrance to the holodeck split the tree's apart
>and Beverley Crusher walked in.
CROW (falsetto): Can we play The Lumberjack and the Naughty Woodnymph
again? *giggle*
>She spotted him and walked over.
KATE: Don't step in manuna.
>
>"Still trying to bury the thoughts?" she started.
TOM: Oh, mention burial; THAT helps.
>
>"This has got to have been one of the worst missions I have ever
>commanded.
CROW: This script was even worse than _Encounter at Farpoint_.
>All those lives lost because of my actions, or
>inactions".
KATE: Call me Captain Kevorkian.
>
>"But life goes on
TOM: Long after the thrill of livin' is gone.
>Jean Luc.
ALL (singing): Oh yeah, I say life goes on.
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone.
>Remember,
CROW: A little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane.
>if it was'nt you in
>command, on this mission,
KATE: We'd ALL be alive now.
>it would have been some other unlucky
>soul who may not have been able to pull the mission off.
TOM: Not to mention my leather nightie.
>We done
>alright out of this
CROW: "We done alright"? Did Jeff Foxworthy co-author this?
>just by pulling through".
KATE: Well, there really isn't a riff I can use on that.
CROW: Not during family hour.
>
>"I guess your right.
TOM: No, my left!
>Best to live with it as best as you can".
CROW: But in this case, I'll make an exception.
[Crow makes a shooting sound effect]
>He paused for a few seconds then continued.
KATE: As opposed to pausing for a few seconds then pausing some more.
>"Now then Doctor,
>can I interest you in a quite horse ride for a hour or two?".
TOM: And as long as you have your spurs on, ...
>
>"Why do you think I came down here?".
CROW: Two-for-one shooters?
>
>"Computer. Run program Dancer one.
KATE: I want Sally Rand out here right now!
>Standard saddle".
TOM: Unfortunately, their holodeck uses pentium chips, so the saddle
came out as stirrup pants.
>
>A computer generated horse appeared at the paddock.
CROW (deep voice): I am Mister Eeeed!
>
>"Doctor, she's all yours...".
KATE: But one warning: she likes to sit on bananas.
>
>And with that, they rode off.
TOM: Another 14 dead; our work here is done.
>
>
>
>
>The end?
KATE: It is as far as I'm concerned!
TOM: Let's go.
[Kate picks up Tom; they leave.]
>
TOM: Cherokee Parks?
KATE: Gene Banks?
CROW: Jeff Mullins?
>
>~~~ Blue Wave/RA v2.12 [NR]
>--
>| Standard disclaimer: The views of this user are strictly his own.
[Door sequence]
[Gypsy, Crow, Chad, and Tom are at the Sat-o-Love counter. Tom, Chad,
and Crow wear Hawaiian shirts; Gypsy, a strapless bikini top. Gypsy
and Tom are wearing grass skirts. Each wears a lei, and Gypsy has one
in her mouth. The other three bots are saying goodbye, faux-hugging
and doing that phony Hollywood kiss on the cheek. Kate comes in,
dressed in a loud Hawaiian shirt over her jumpsuit and a goofy straw
hat. She carries a small duffel bag, apparently with spare clothes.
Gypsy places the lei over Kate's neck as she hugs all the bots.]
GYPSY: Goodbye, Kate!
CROW: Thanks for everything!
TOM: We'll miss you.
KATE: Chad, are you ready?
CHAD: I have everything stowed into my backpack.
KATE: Good. Well, ...
CHAD: You know, backpacks were invented by Thomas Jefferson, so he
could carry around smutty lithographs of his female slaves.
KATE: Thank you, Chad.
TOM: Kate, you and Chad have been enjoyed. So before you leave, we
wanted to give a you a little gift. It's under the counter.
[Kate reaches under the counter, pulling out an old Nike shoebox. She
opens it, and pulls out a letter.]
KATE (a bit sarcastically): Gee, I didn't expect this.
CROW: Read it! Read it!
GYPSY: We chose this one specifically for you.
KATE (looking at envelope): Hey, it's from la!
[She opens the envelope, pulls out the letter, and begins to read.]
KATE: "Dear Kate: Dahlink! How goes it, girlfriend? We had a lot of fun
at the CON, but we all sure missed you. Of course, we're all JEALOUS
of you getting to riff away on the Sat-O-Luuuuuv." I feel so dirty
when she says that. "I had a lot of fun. I got to spend some time
with Mike, and I have the pictures to prove it. In fact, Fotomat
says that from now on they will develop all my pictures for free."
Huh. "Unfortunately, some people got mad when I tried to sneak Mike
back home. Don't worry about your car or dogs. I changed flights,
drove your car back to Georgia, and I am holding down the fort till
you get back. Tasha and Miso say 'Hi, mommy.' They're good girls,
even if they aren't KITTIES! Anyway, I'm looking forward to seeing
you soon. Luv ya, hon. xoxoxo, la."
TOM: Huh.
KATE: Well, as much as I'll miss you guys, I really miss Tasha and
Misie. Hm, that's odd; I'll have to ask what happened with her and
Mike. [Lights begin to flash.] Woop, Fry and Laurie are calling.
[Kate hits the button; view switches down to Deep 13. The doorbell
rings. Frank goes to the vault door and opens it.]
FRANK (British accent): Ah, good evening, madam. Mr. Wooster will be
here momentarily. [Steps inside, calls out:] Excuse me, Mr. Wooster,
but your lady friend is here for this evening's pleasantries.
DR F (entering, wearing his tux): Frank, what is with this Wodehouse
schtick? And why have you kept her waiting outside? Let her in.
FRANK: Very good, sir.
[Frank walks to the door, and motions for her to come in.]
DR F (turning to camera): Well, Kim, I'm so glad we had this time
together. If Mike ever leaves, I'll keep you in mind.
[SOL]
KATE: No thanks! But if I come up here again, I gotta have my dogs with
me.
[Deep 13]
DR F: Wrong! [Dr F's date enters, but the lighting is dim and we can't
make out who it is.] I call the shots at this popstand. One of my
rules is NO DOGS!
[Dr F's date steps into the light; she is Cincinnati Reds owner Marge
Schott. She is dressed in a polyester pants suit, smoking three
cigarettes simultaneously, and has the stuffed corpse of the original
Schottsie dragging on a leash behind her.]
MARGE: Oh, Honey, dogs are so wonderful. *hack cough*
DR F (getting all squishy): Oh, of course.
MARGE: You know, I don't think much of that guy you got. I know some
out of work baseball players who are broke and would love to play
Steppin Fetchit for minimum wage. *hack spit*
[Dr F looks all gooey at Marge.]
[SOL]
KATE: Hey, how come SHE can bring her bitch with her but mine have to
stay at home?
CROW: Schottsie ALWAYS brings Marge with her.
[Deep 13]
DR F: Of course. Well, the pod is ready for Mike. As soon as it
arrives, you can get in and come back. Frank!
[Frank pops up right behind Dr F.]
FRANK: You called, Mr. Wooster?
DR F: That's it! You're fired, Frank! You can pack up your bags and
leave after your shift!
FRANK (dropping accent): What? But ...
DR F: Make sure Kate gets back safely. The last thing I need is another
lawsuit.
FRANK (stunned): But ...
DR F: And make sure you drop off all your keys with the mole people.
FRANK: But ...
MARGE: Don't forget the security.
DR F: Right, I'll have security check your boxes before you leave.
FRANK: But ...
MARGE: That's tellin' him, honey.
DR F: Shall we go? [Offers his arm to Marge.]
MARGE (taking his arm): Yes, I just love the burgers at Perkins.
DR F (calling back as he and Marge leave): And make sure Mike doesn't
try to sneak someone up to the satellite with him! He's skinny and
sly enough to do that.
[Dr F and Marge leave. Frank just stands there for a few minutes,
stunned. He sees the stuffed Schottsie, and kicks it.]
FRANK: So; that's what it comes down to. Fine, I'll show you. (Picks up
a phone.) Hello, Sarah? Get me Mike in the pod launch bay.
[SOL]
MAGIC VOICE: The pod is now arriving.
[Kate picks up Chad.]
KATE: Well, that's our flight. We'll see ya 'round!
TOM: Can we go with you?
KATE: No, hon. This is where you belong, and Mike will need you here.
Besides, between Chad and me, there won't be a lot of room. I'm not
a petite person. I might be able to squeeze all of you in with me,
but it wouldn't be at all comfortable. Well, goodbye!
[Kate leaves, waving.]
GYPSY: Bye, Kate!
CROW: So long, Chad!
TOM: Write if you get work! *sigh* Well, ...
CROW: I wonder what this Mike guy looks like.
GYPSY: I think he had light-colored hair.
TOM: Well, whoever he is ...
[Mike, looking frazzled and mussed beyond all belief, staggers into
view.]
MIKE: Hi guys!
BOTS: MIKE!
TOM: Where have you been?
GYPSY: Are you okay? You look awful!
CROW: I told you he was white.
MIKE: Oh, I'm okay. It's just that those pods really aren't that big.
If you're travelling solo it's no problem, but two is a bit of a
tight squeeze, especially with the reserve air tanks.
TOM: Two? What do you mean two?
MIKE: Well, as his last act of revenge, Frank let me bring someone with
me; a very close, personal friend.
CROW: Bridget?
MIKE: No, she's mad after what happened at the CON. Apparently she's
run off to California to look for a guy named "Ingals" or
something. No, this is a very special friend I met at the CON.
GYPSY: Well, screw the mind games, Nelson, who is it?
[From behind the counter pops up a very *ahem* healthy young woman in a
skimpy nightie.]
CYBERMUFFIN: Hi guys!
BOTS: WAIGH!!!
[The bots faint.]
MIKE (surveying the damage): Hm.
CYBERMUFFIN: Well.
MIKE: I had planned to do some things with the bots, but I guess that
will have to wait. So, Cyber, anything you want to do?
CYBERMUFFIN (grinning at Mike and repetitively raising her eyebrows):
Push the button, Mike. *purr*
\ | /
\|/
---O---
/|\
/ | \
VOICE of MIKE: MMMmmmmmmmm. Count slow.
MSTed by Richard Burton (T-Bone; bur...@lobster.gsfc.nasa.gov) and
by Kate Wrightson (kwri...@moe.coe.uga.edu)
Disclaimer: MST3K and related situations/characters/settings/scenarios
are the property of Best Brains; they had nothing to do with our
writing this. This MSTing was done for the sole purpose of
entertainment and is not meant to be a personal attack on the original
author(s) in any way. We intended no flames on any organizations,
characters, products, people, or ideas which were referenced in this
MSTing. This MSTing reflects my and Kate's own personal viewpoints, and
not always both of ours, and does not necessarly reflect the views of
the University of Georgia, NASA, Goddard Space Flight Center, or my
employer, Hughes STX.