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Aug 23, 1995, 3:00:00 AM8/23/95
[Continued from Part 7]

> Grignr clameed his right hand over Carthena's mouth and with a slight
>struggle pulled her

Crow: --upper right molar and all of her incisors.

>over to the shadows at the right hand wall of the path,
>while at the same time thrusting this torch

Tom: --into a pile of oily rags.

>beneath an overhanging stone to
>smother its flickering rays. "Be silent;

Mike [falsetto]: But I wasn't saying anyth--
Tom [Grignr]: I said be silent!

>I can hear footfalls approaching
>through the tunnel;" growled Grignr in a hushed tone.
> "All that you hear are the horses corraled at the far end of the
>tunnel. That is a further sign that we are

Crow [falsetto]: --doomed! We're doomed! Waaah!

>nearing our goal." She stated!

Mike: Damn did she state!

> "All that you hear is less than I hear! I heard footsteps coming
>towards us.

Tom [Grignr]: And I heard the CIA beaming satellite transmissions into my

>Silence yourself

Crow: Hey, it's an episode of "All in the Family"!
Mike: Actually, it's-- oh, close enough.

>that we may find out whom we are being
>brought into contact with.

Tom: After all, it is 2010: The Year We Are Brought Into Contact.

>I doubt that any would have thought as yet of
>searching this passage for us. The advantage of surprize will be upon our
>side." Grignr warned.

Crow: He warned her that something good was going to happen?
Mike: I'm warning you, if you open that box you'll find the keys to your
new Ferrari!

> Carthena cast her eyes downward and ceased any further pursuit towards
>conversation, an irritating habit

Tom: She did exactly what he wanted and he finds it irritating?
Mike: There's just no pleasing some people.

>in which she had gained an amazing
>proficiency. Two figures came into the pairs view, from around a turn in
>the tunnel. They were clothed in rich luxuriant silks and rambling o on

Crow: Much like Jim Theis.

>in conversation while ignorant of their crouching foes waiting in an ambush
> "...That barbarian dog

Tom: What is it that these people have against dogs? I mean, sure,
poodles and chihuahuas are kind of annoying, but still--

>is cringing beneath the weight of the lash at
>this moment sire. He shall cause no more disturbance."
> "Aye, and so it is with any who dare to cross the path of Sargon's
>chosen one." said the 2nd man.

Mike: Meanwhile, the Third Man was busy making a fortune off watered-down

> "But the peasants are showing signs of growing unrest. They complain
>that they cannot feet their families while burdened with your taxes."

Crow: And they can't tax their families while burdened with your feet.

> "I shall teach those sluts

Tom: --calculus, and then Edward James Olmos'll play me in the movie.
Crow: Sluts? Where?

>the meaning of humility! Order an
>immediate increase upon their taxes. They dare to question my sovereign
>authority, Ha-a, they shall soon learn what true oppression can be. I will
>... "

Mike: This little skit could become reality if you, the voter, make the
wrong decision on Election Day. Remember: friends don't let friends
vote for Bob Dornan.

> A shodowed bulk leapt from behind a jutting promontory as it brought
>down a double edged axe with the spped of a striking thought.

Crow: Which, again, this being Grignr, means that it took about forty-five

>One of the
>nobles sagged lifeless to the ground, skull split to the teeth.
> Grignr gasped as he observed the bisected face set in its leering
>death agonies. It was Agafnd!

Tom [sighing]: Okay, now was Agafnd the prince, or the advisor, or the
prince's longtime companion, or what?

>The dead mans comrade having recovered from
>his shock drew a jewel encrusted dagger from beneath the folds of his

Crow: G-string?


Mike: That's a relief. At least =someone= around here is dressed.

>and lunged toward the barbarians back. Grignr spun at the sound from
>behind and smashed down his crimsoned axe once more. His antagonist lunged
>howling to a stream of stagnent green water, grasping a spouting stump that
>had once been a wrist.

Crow: It's just a flesh wound.
Tom [antagonist]: Hey, anyone around here got any Medi-Quik?

>Grignr raised his axe over his head and prepaired
>to finish the incomplete job,

Mike: He had to or it'd revert to an "F" after six weeks.

>but was detered half way through his lunge by
>a frenzied screech from behind.

Crow: It was Alanis Morissette!

> Carthena leapt to the head of the writhing figure, plunging a
>smoldering torch into the agonized face. The howls increased in their
>horrid intensity, stifled by the sizzling of roasting flesh,

Tom: Human -- the other white meat.

>then died down
>until the man was reduced to a blubbering mass of squirming, insensate

Crow: It was as if he'd been forced to sit through a "The Brothers Grunt"

> Grignr advance to Carthena's side wincing slightly from the putrid
>aroma of

Tom: --Grignr.

>charred flesh that rose in a puff of thick white smog throughout
>the chamber. Carthena reeled slightly, staring dasedly downward at her
>gruesome handywork.

Mike: Have you ever considered taking some industrial arts classes? They
can help you match up those corners better and teach you how to apply a
more even coat of wood stain.

>"I had to do it ... it was Agaphim ... I had to, "
>she exclaimed!

Crow: It's the dramatic revelation at the climax of the story!
Tom: Now who was Agaphim again?

> "Sargon should be more carful of his right hand men." Added Grignr, a
>smug grin upon his lips.

Tom: Where else would it be?

>"But to hell with Sargon for now, the stench is
>becoming bothersome to me."

Mike [falsetto]: Maybe you should try a different deodorant?

>With that Grignr grasped Carthena

Crow: This guy's all hands!

>around the
>waist leading her around the bend in the cave and into the open.

Mike: Then over the river and through the woods.

> A ball of feral red

Crow: You mean the sun?
Mike: Let's not jump to conclusions.

>was rising through the mists of the eastern horizon,

Tom: Why... yes, the sun =does= rise in the east! Jim must've done some
painstaking research to get all these little details right.

>disipating the slinking shadows of the night. A coral stood
>before the pair, enclosing two grazing mares.

Mike: Oddly, the mares didn't seem to notice that they were underwater and
trapped in a reef.

>Grignr reached into a
>weighted down leather pouch dangling at his side and drew forth

Crow: Eww! Cut! Cut! We don't need the consummation scene!
Mike: Crow, the consummation scene happened five seconds after the characters
Crow: Oh, yeah. Well, once was bad enough.

>scintillant red emerald

Bots: That's three! That's three!
Tom: Once is happenstance...
Crow: And twice is coincidence...
Tom: But when it happens three times...
Crow: The situation is clear: Jim Theis really does think emeralds are red!

>he had obtained from the bloated idol. Raising it
>toward the sun he said, "We shall do well with bauble, eh!"

Mike [falsetto]: Uh, yes, Grignr. We shall do very well with bauble!
Tom: I'm put in the mind of a Boris Badinoff here.
Crow: Wait... didn't he say a while back that his culture hated baubles?

> Carthena gaped at the gem gasping in a terrified manner "The eye of
>Argon, Oh! Kalla!"

Tom: Now who was Kalla?
Mike: I don't think Kalla's been in the story before.
Tom: Great. A few sentences from the end, and Jim's bringing in new
Crow: I don't even remember any of the old ones.

>At this the gem gave off a blinding glow, then dribbled

Crow: --between a pair of defenders and took it to the hoop for two!

>through Grignr's fingers in a slimy red ooze.

Mike [Grignr]: I should've known it wasn't a real emerald! There was
always something about that emerald that just didn't seem right to me.

>Grignr stepped back, pushing

Tom: --drugs.
Crow: C'mon, you'll like it. The first one's free!

>Carthena behind him. The droplets of slime slowly converged
>into a pulsating jelly-like mass.

Crow: Inside were little pieces of delicious pineapple!

>A single opening transfixed the blob,
>forminf into a leechlike maw.
> Then the hideous transgressor of nature flowed towards Grignr, a trail
>of greenish slime

Bots: GREENISH slime?
Tom: That's it! That's the answer! He's color-blind! To Jim Theis, red
and green are the same!
Mike: He must've done time at the House of Stairs.

>lingering behind it. The single gap puckered repeatedly

Crow [falsetto]: Come on, kiss your Aunt Ethel!

>emitting a ghastly sucking sound.

Tom [Perot]: --as American jobs leave for Mexico!

> Grignr spread his legs

Crow: Isn't Cartagena supposed to be the one to do that?
Mike: It's Carthena, and you're the one who didn't want another consummation

>into a battle stance, steeling his quivering thews

Tom: My thews'd be quivering too, if I knew what thews were.

>for a battle royal with a thing he knew not how to fight. Carthena
>wound her arms about her protectors neck, mumbling, "Kill it! Kill!"

Crow [Grignr]: Yes! Grignr want to kill! Grignr like kill! But Grignr
not know how to kill!

>While her entire body trembled.

Mike: Except for her left elbow.

> The thing was almost upon Grignr when he buried his axe

Crow [Grignr]: Mebbe it'll make an axe tree and I'll have enough weaponry
to beat this thing!

>into the
>gristly maw. It passed through the blob and clanged upon the ground.
>Grignr drew his axe back with a film of yellow-green slime clinging to the

Crow: Was it "The Castle of Fu Manchu"?
Tom: No. That film was far worse than yellow-green slime.

>The thing was seemingly unaffected. Then it started to slooze up

Mike: Don't you just hate it when your underwear starts to slooze up on you?

>his leg. The hairs upon his nape stoode on end from the slimey feel of the
>things buly, bulk.

Tom: Okay, we're getting downright Joycean here.

>The Nautous sucking sound became louder, and

Mike: --Ross Perot jumped up and down yelling, "I told you so!" while
Mexican entrepreneurs went on to dominate the world market.

>Grignr felt the blood being drawn from his body.

Tom [falsetto]: Are you 17? Are you 110 pounds? Okay, then, have a seat
right here and the nurse'll be with you in a moment.

>With each hiss of hideous pucker

Mike: But I don't want to kiss Aunt Ethel!

>the thing increased in size.

Crow: I'm still not so sure this isn't really a consummation scene. Sort
of the literary equivalent of the train going through the tunnel...?
Tom: You call this literary?

> Grignr shook his foot about madly

Mike: He did the Hokey Pokey and he turned himself around. That's what it's
all about!

>in an attempt to dislodge the blob,
>but it clung like a leech, still feeding upon his rapidly draining life

Crow: You mean blood?
Mike: Let's not jump to-- aw, heck with it. Yes. He means blood.

>He grasped with his hands trying to rip it off, but only found his
>hands entangled in a sickly glue- like substance.

Tom: So that's what happened to his horse!

>The slimey thing
>continued its puckering ; now having grown the size of Grignr's leg from
>its vampiric feast.

Crow: I don't believe I'm saying this, but this is almost... interesting!

> Grignr began to reel

Mike: In a twelve-pounder, but it was too strong and got away.

>and stagger under the blob, his chalk white face
>and faltering muscles attesting to the gigantic loss of blood. Carthena
>slipped from Grignr in a death-like faint,

Tom: Then Romeo showed up and stabbed himself.

>a morrow chilling scream upon her red rubish

Bots: Emeraldish!

>lips. In final desperation Grignr grasped the smoldering
>torch upon the ground and plunged it into the reeking maw of the travestry.
>A shudder passed through the thing.

Bots: Yeah! Go Grignr!
Mike: Even I'm starting to get into it!

>Grignr felt the blackness closing upon
>his eyes, but held on with the last ebb of his rapidly waning vitality.

All: Come on, Grignr! Go! Go!

>could feel its grip lessoning as a hideous gurgling sound erupted from the
>writhing maw.

All: ALL RIGHT, GRIGNR! You can do it, buddy!

>The jelly like mass began to bubble like a vat of boiling
>tar as quavers passed up and down its entire form.

All: Yes? AND???


Crow: It's over... all that time I wanted it to be over... page after page
when I would've chewed my own leg off to end the story... and he can't even
tack on a lousy concluding sentence? Jim Dickweed Theis can't finish with
Tom: Guess not. C'mon, guys, time to go.
Mike: You coming, Crow?
Crow: No. I no longer have any will to live.


Tom: Hey, Mike, I just noticed -- THE EYE OF ARGON is exactly 11,111 words
and exactly 1000 paragraphs long.
Mike: Why would you bother to count them?
Tom: Well, it's better than actually reading it.
Mike: You got me there. Think Crow's going to come out any time soon?
Tom: Who?
Mike: Never mind. Whaddaya think, sir?

[Deep 13]

Dr.F.: So the gold one kicked the bucket after all, eh? No longer perusing
his longevity, I take it? I knew it! The tarot cards set him up, and THE
EYE OF ARGON pushed him over the edge! Scored all over you, Nelson! Score!
Perkins [reading]: "...which dominates large portions of the Norgoli-- the
Norgol-- the Nor-- the--" BWAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!
Dr.F.: That's, what, six words? And now it's my turn again. Today's just
my day! Now, if you would... push the button, Jack.
Perkins: But... but... the Norgoli-- the Norgo-- the-- BWAH-HAH-HAH-HAH--

\ | /
\ | /
---O--- Fwshhhh!
/ | \
/ | \

MST3K and all its characters, etc., are Copyright 199x Best Brains. I'm
not a Best Brain. This MiSTing is in no way endorsed by Best Brains. It
may be distributed freely as long as it's in its entirety and this notice
is intact.

MiSTed by Adam Cadre, a.ca...@genie.com (or maybe a.ca...@genie.geis.com,
I'm not entirely sure), 7867-7869 SUN-T 20-22 August 1995. Any comments,
questions, remarks, laments or retorts are more than welcome.

>Gaping from its single obling socket was scintillating,
>many fauceted scarlet emerald, a brilliant gem seeming to possess a life
>all of its own. A priceless gleaming stone, capable of domineering the
>wealth of conquering empires...the eye of Argon.

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