A NOTE TO ANYONE OUT THERE WHO DOES NOT LIKE MSTINGS: If you
have any moral qualms about this kind of thing...relax. For
the record, this one is completely aboveboard. I have
requested and received MSTing permission from the writer,
who is himself a prolific MSTer and knows exactly what he's
in for. Bwahahah.
recognizable characters and setting are the property of either Best Brains Inc. or Marvel Inc. and are, obviously, used without permission. However, no harm is intended and no profit
is being made, and I'm really not worth suing anyway. Besides, if I was in jail, both companies would lose one of their staunchest fans. Please ask if ya wanna archive it --
feedback is coveted at [email protected] or, if that bounces for some odd reason, at [email protected].
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, it's the first full-length MSTie I've
finished since the debut of X-MST3K -- and it's NOT X2-MST3K! Sorry guys. It's coming. I promise. In the meantime, here's a little something from a good sport by the name of
Quamp. Enjoy...
For Quintas, Harlequin, and Lynxie, Just Because.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Scene: The bridge of the Satellite Of Love. Klaxons are blaring, lights are strobing, and basically all hell is breaking loose. Into the midst of this chaos barge Our Heroes: two wildly
careening robots with non-functional arms and one bleary-eyed human male whose fairly functional arms are currently tangled up over his head in his attempts to wrestle a real shirt on over his nightshirt. Tom (the little red barrel with a
bubblegum machine for a head) is bouncing off of various walls gibbering incoherently. Crow (the lanky golden thing with a beak) is screaming something slightly more intelligible: ]
CROW: IT'S THE APOCALYYYYYPSE! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIEEEE!
MIKE: [emerging from his shirt as he finally yanks it down over his head] --mffl grrblr not the Apocalypse. There are
absolutely, positively supposed to be Horsemen, and I don't see any, so come ON, you two, get a grip! It's just Pearl.
[Mike makes an ineffective grab at Crow, misses, and instead falls headlong on top of Tom as he whizzes by. Crow dramatically
rolls his eyes up into his "head" and faints. Various crashing
sounds ensue behind the console.]
[Cut to Castle Forrester, close-up of Pearl Forrester's familiarly over-made-up face. The Mad Scientess is scowling into the camera, and as she leans back away from it you can see her
thumb is pressed firmly against a comically large flashing red button labelled "PANIC." She releases it.]
[Cut back to the bridge of the SOL. An eerie, absolute silence has abruptly fallen. Smoke wafts past. A beat passes. Another.
Then three dishevelled heads cautiously poke up over the console like something out of a Three Stooges movie.]
[Castle Forrester. Pearl is wearing that grim little smile that means either horrible death for Our Boys or a flea-dip for Bobo, depending on what day of the week it happens to be.]
PEARL: So. I see I got your attention.
[SOL. No answer except whimpers from about console level.]
[Castle Forrester. Pearl smiles even more sweetly then whips a packet of papers up from behind her back and fiercely brandishes them at the camera.]
PEARL: What do you have to say about THIS, hmmmm?!
[SOL. Mike slowly rises to his feet, bots clinging to his legs and whining like puppies.]
MIKE: Ah -- the Brain-Guy hacked into NIMH and used up all the
good paper to print out sexy neurological reports again?
[Castle Forrester. Pearl snarls, slams the papers down on the table, and looms in close again.]
PEARL: Wrong, Nelson! I work hard on my experiments! Very hard! I do everything for YOU, do you know that? Everything! And how
do you treasonous lab-rats repay me? [She sounds on the verge of dramatic tears now] You leak my brilliant concept to amateurs! AMATEURS! On...the... [she spit the word out like filth] INTERNET!!!
[SOL. Mike looks completely blank.]
MIKE: Mrs. F, I have NO idea what you're talking about.
[Castle Forrester. Pearl is abruptly calm again, a transcendant calm which can only bode ill for the boyz.]
PEARL: Oh, I don't suppose I mind so much...I mean, voluntary part-time penny-ante imitations of my genius are surely no
reflection upon my own obsessively concentrated greatness. And I suppose I should thank the little thieving netweasels for...this.
[Her eyes light up with glee as she plucks out a particular sheaf of paper and reverently holds it up to the light like the
Holy Grail. In fact, for a moment you can almost hear the choir and see the golden shaft of sunlight... Then she snaps her blue-eye-shadowed gaze back to Mike & Co., and her expression is the exact opposite of holy. Uh oh.]
PEARL: [in honeyed tones] In particular, I believe I should thank this fine young fellow who fancies himself worthy of
following in my footsteps. This...Quamp fellow. Did you know
that on his, oh, what do the kids call it nowadays, ah yes, his "web" "site," he has been mimicking my experiments, MY
glorious evil? [She pauses thoughtfully] Self, note, look into hiring Quamp as an intern over the summer. Can always use more
lackeys... [She shakes herself slightly, refocusing] But enough about these paltry attempts to pilfer MY spotlight. The TRUE evil lay only a click away...in THIS! Brain-Guy!
[In a swish of blue robe, the pale, hooded form of the Observer appears as if out of thin air at her side, his brain pan carried as always in both hands. He is wearing a Qui-Gonn Jinn tee-shirt over his usual threads. Pearl does not notice, or care.]
PEARL: Brain-Guy...what would you say if I were to tell you that I do not want you to send the kids a bad movie this week?
OBSERVER: [thoughtfully, as if answering a pop-quiz question] I...would...say...that you're not the real Pearl and that I would be forced to put a stake through your heart before you had the chance to spawn. With all due respect.
PEARL: Oh of course. Well, as it turns out, I don't want to send them a bad movie.
OBSERVER: [blandly] Ah.
PEARL: No, I want you to send them... [dramatic pause] ...THIS FANFIC!
OBSERVER: Fan-what?
PEARL: Oh, just send it to them. I don't care how you do it. I have Internet copycats to firebomb. [She plops the papers on top
of the Observer's brain and stalks off shouting "BOBO! MAN THE CATAPULT!" Unnoticed, the Observer winces at the careless
impact on his much-abused cerebellum.]
OBSERVER: [muttering] Well, as a wise man once said, "There go the piano lessons..."
[SOL Bridge. The bots have recovered by now, though Crow's Lacrosse-mitt head is a little askew.]
CROW: Aw, come on, you don't HAVE to send it up, do you? We'll give you a cookie.
[Castle Forrester]
OBSERVER: [perks up] Really? With chocolate chips?
[SOL Bridge]
TOM: Oh sure, lots of chocolate chips! Nothing but chocolate chips!
MIKE: Heck, we won't even bother to use dough in the first place!
[Castle Forrester]
OBSERVER: Hmmm...
[...breathless hopeful silence from the SOL Bridge...]
OBSERVER: ....mmmmmno. A pity I hate chocolate.
[SOL Bridge. The usual pre-movie chaos breaks out and the camera swerves towards the doors leading to the theater...]
MIKE: AUUUUGH! We've got...fanfic sign...?
[SOL bridge...6...5...4...3...2...1...theater]
[Mike & both bots reluctantly take up their accustomed places in the Theater O'Pain. There is a moment of bemused muttering and
grumbling as a typed page starts to scroll by instead of a film (a comment of "All credits, no movie -- what level of hell
IS this?!" is heard), but, being the old pros they are, Our Heroes soon settle into the familiar routine: Riffing To Retain Sanity.]
> Gen X/Group X
MIKE: Oh poo, it's just the cheap store-brand version of Generation X.
> "Psycho Christmas"
CROW: Remade frame by painstaking frame, right down to the famous "Blitzen in the showerstall" scene!
> (Front cover. We see the members of Generation X and Group X decorating a large Christmas tree.)
MIKE: Awww...isn't that adorable? Husk's skin-bits make great tinsel!
> Cap (N): Holidays with the X!
TOM: Malcolm?
CROW: I guess "Dreaming Of A White Christmas" is out, then...
> (Inside front cover. We see the usual blurbs for Lotus, Walking Eagle, Starshot,
> Bakerman, Mirror, and Quicksand.
TOM: [motioning at each name in turn] Nobody, nobody, nothing, oughta be ROYALLY ashamed of his name, nothing, and nobody.
MIKE: ...Bakerman...?
> Below that, we see the blurbs for Banshee, Jubilee, Synch, Skin, Gaia, Zero G, and
> Penance.
TOM: Annnnd also starring... [again bobbing his bubble at each name in turn] has-been, official Mary Sue, token, token, waste of ink, waste of paper, and Larry Hama hit-and-run victim.
> Page 1, panel 1. A quosent hut in the arctic.
MIKE: A what?
TOM: I think he meant "quonset."
CROW: I think he meant "Look at me, I once saw a Discovery-channel special about Eskimos!"
TOM: Ahem -- Inuits.
CROW & MIKE: Gesundheit!
> We see the place in longshot.
CROW: Where exactly? Why, in Longshot's spleen!
> Caption notation: E- Evil St. Nick.)
MIKE: Oh, so Pitch is the good-guy in this one?
> Cap (N1): A hut in the arctic.
TOM: [haughtily] Oh, so now it's not GOOD enough to be a "quosent."
> Cap (N2): Here we have an unassuming building.
MIKE: Ahem! Unassuming building, will you please stand up? Thank you. *BOOOOM!*
> Cap (N3): But looks can be very deceiving....
> (Panel 2. Go inside to see a man wearing a Santa Claus outfit, with a cold, inhuman
> look in his eyes.)
CROW: For example, this is actually Marvel Executive Editor Bob Harras.
> Cap (E1): They thought they could keep me down.
MIKE: [conversationally] But I get up again, doanchaknow.
TOM: Ah, the sweet strains of Chumbawamba...not unlike being doused with Guiness then slammed over the head repeatedly with a grimy washboard.
> Cap (E2): They thought I could be locked away in some hellhole forever.
CROW: [hoarsely, a la Apocalypse Now] Fresno. I can't believe I'm still in Fresno.
> Cap (E3): They were wrong.
> Cap (E4): Well, wait until they get a load of Evil St. Nick!
MIKE: Uh, Nickie baby? Yeah, this is your agent...Jack
Nicholson's lawyers are here to see you...yup, they brought the cage full of rats and the cheese grater...
> (Panel 3. Evil St. Nick pushes some buttons.)
TOM: Ooops! Oh well, no one's going to miss Djibouti.
> Cap (E): Now we'll see who will be full of good cheer this holiday season!
MIKE: If I have to ram it into 'em like stuffing into a Thanksgiving turkey!
CROW: Oh now that's just wrong.
> (Panel 4. Generation X headquarters, Snow Valley, Mass. We see a pleasant snow scene.
TOM: We see a small Asian-American girl in a yellow raincoat
being dangled by her ankles from an upper-story window while some other kids her age take aim with the garden hose.
> The members of Generation X are out there, dressed in winter gear.)
> Gaia: Interesting... what did you call this stuff again?
CROW: "Winter gear," you dyejob ditz.
> Synch: It's snow, Gaia.
MIKE: And look, Gaia! This is AIR!
> (Page 2, panel 1. Gaia holds up a handful of snow.)
CROW: [Gaia, falsetto] Big whoop -- it's cold, it's wet, and it
smells like Angelo's been writing his name in it. NOW can we go inside and watch "Titanic" again?
> Gaia: Interesting... on my home planet, the precipitation was always rain. It never got
> cold enough to do this there.
MIKE: [Gaia, falsetto] Not like I'd know, having been chained to
an altar at the heart of the multiverse all this time and all.
TOM: Funny how her muscles haven't atrophied.
CROW: Funny how her brain has.
> Skin: It never snowed in the barrios of East L.A. either, Gaia.
CROW: Oh, I'm sure there was plenty of (ahem) SNOW in Skin's neighborhood.
MIKE: [Skin] Hey guys! Have I mentioned in the last ten minutes
that I'm from the BARRIO? I just need to make that completely clear. It's really important. Yup. That's me. From the BARRIO. Yep.
> (Panel 3. Suddenly a snowball hits Jubilee from behind.)
> SFX: WHIFT!
ALL: Strike three! You're OUT!
> (Panel 4. Jubilee, angered, turns around.)
TOM: And around and around and around and around and... She IS easily amused, isn't she?
> Jubilee: All right, who like threw that?
CROW: [Jubilee, falsetto] And oh yeah, I'm, like, from, like, California. Like fershure, like.
> (Panel 5. Jubilee fires her energy plasmoids at everyone.)
MIKE: [Paige] MAH EYE! MAH EVAH-LOVIN' KENTUCKIAN EYE!!! AUGH! Oh GOD, the PAIN...the PAAAAIN....
> Jubilee: Tell me!!
> Zero G: Woah, chill out Jubes. It was an accident.
TOM: [Jubilee] Really? And just who the hell are you, anyway?
> SFX: Pip! Ping!
MIKE: Hmmm, looks like Everett is lagged--
TOM: Time out! I call no IRC OR ICQ jokes. People with lives won't get them.
CROW: Yeah, fanboy.
TOM: HEY!
> (Panel 6. Jubilee gets angry.)
CROW: And turns into Lou Ferigno!
> Jubilee: So it was you, Tracy!? I never did trust you!
TOM: [Jubilee] Bitch!
MIKE: [Tracy] Skank!
TOM: [Jubilee] Hama-bim!
MIKE: [Tracy] Claremont-cookie!
ALL: WOO! UNDERAGE CATFIGHT!
> (Page 3, panel 1. Synch stands in the way of Jubilee and Zero G.)
CROW: Oh, so Tracy is Zero-G?
TOM: Her head IS filled with helium. It explains a lot.
> Synch: Woah, Jubes, calm down now.
> Jubilee: Out of my way, Ev!
MIKE: [Jubilee] And stop misspelling "whoa" like Tracy does! I always knew you liked her best!
> (Panel 2. Jubilee hits Synch in the face with her energy plasmoids.)
ALL: Medic!
> Jubilee: You've always hated me ever since you met me!
CROW: Uh, Jubes, look, I don't know how to tell you this, but,
well, that goes for every single member of GenX. When they told you that administering a swirly every hour on the hour is a
sign of affection...they were lying.
> SFX: Pip! Ping! Pip!
TOM: Jubilee pauses in mid-screech for a quick round of Pong!
> (Panel 3. Synch pulls away, hurt and holding his face.)
MIKE: And trying to put it back on...
> Psi balloon (Pointing to Chamber): That's enough, Jubilation Lee.
> Jubilee (Turns): Stay out of this, Jono!
CROW: Yeah! Since when is he her mother?
TOM: No, because then he would have said "Jubilation Rebecca Sarah Dingle-Dangle-Dongle Jingleheimer Lee."
> (Panel 4. Suddenly Synch makes a diving tackle on Jubilee.)
> SFX: POW!!!
CROW: WHAM!
MIKE: SPLAT!
CROW: AOOOOGAH!
TOM: Robin! My utility belt! Hurry!
> Synch: Try and hurt me, will you!?
MIKE: Oh sure, he says that to the only girl on the team who
can't punch him into orbit or fillet him into Steak-Ums. What a man.
> (Panel 5. Chamber tries to restrain Synch while Gaia tries to restrain Jubilee.)
TOM: However, Gaia gets confused and manages to restrain a tree instead. Hilarity ensues!
> Gaia: What is wrong with you two? You're supposed to be friends!
CROW: Aw, that's just how X-folks express affection, doanchaknow. Broken bones are VERY romantic in the spandex crowd.
> (Page 4, panel 1. Suddenly Skin joins the fray as Gaia and Chamber are thrown off
> of Jubilee and Synch, respectively.)
MIKE: HEY! Okay, 'fess up -- who brought the baby oil?!
> Gaia: UHN!
> Psi balloon (pointing to Chamber): Blimey!
TOM: No, real fake cockneys say "COR blimey." It's right there in the Bad Accent Manual.
> Skin: I'll show you real fighting, gringos!
CROW: Oh yeah, Skin? How about you show us a real Californian Hispanic one of these days?
[All make an "ooooo, low blow" sound]
> (Panel 2. Gaia psi-blasts all except Chamber. The others grab their heads.)
MIKE: Chamber grabs Gaia's head.
> All but Gaia and Chamber: UHN!
TOM: WOW! In unison, yet!
CROW: The kids in GenX are pros at getting their butts kicked, remember.
> (Panel 3. Gaia collapses into Chamber's arms.)
TOM: No, no, no, that's JenX's job.
MIKE & CROW: FANFIC FANBOY!
> Psi balloon (Pointing to Chamber): Scarpers!
TOM: What the...?!
MIKE: Oh, Chamber's not actually speaking. That's a rogue psi balloon. Careful, they bite.
> (Panel 4. Group X headquarters, Fort Worth. We see Lotus, Walking Eagle, Starshot,
> Bakerman, and Mirror dressing the place up for Christmas.)
CROW: Wow, now that you mention it, leather and chains DO look kinda good with pine needles and tinsel...
MIKE: Hey guys? I just realized what a pathetic name "Walking Eagle" is.
TOM: It took you that long?
MIKE: Well, sorry, but it took me some time to properly digest the horror that is "Bakerman."
CROW: Ah yeah. We can sympathize, ol' pal.
> Cap (N1): Meanwhile, in Fort Worth,
> Cap (N2): They are unaware of what is transpiring outside.
TOM: They haven't yet figured out how to use a window. It's sad, really.
> Mirror: Almost finished, y'all.
CROW: [flatly] Lemme guess, this one's Southern.
MIKE: Yep, and that's just about ALL of the characterization he's going to get.
> Lotus: Take your time, Quinton. You know, it's been a good while since we got to have
> a nice, quiet day together.
TOM: [Lotus] Say, I know! Let's go kick the hell out of Bakerman!
> (Page 5, panel 1. Bakerman climbs up a ladder to put up a string of lights along the ceiling.)
> Bakerman (1): It's gonna be the best Christmas I've ever had.
CROW: [squeaky voice] God bless us, every one!
> Bakerman (2): For starters, I don't have to spend it with my family...
MIKE: [Bakerman] I dunno, call me a party-pooper, but I'm just not into the whole traditional "stuff a Yule log into Grandpa" thing.
> (Panel 2. Starshot gets a slightly puzzled look on her face.)
CROW: WOW! For a moment, just a moment mind you, a THOUGHT almost crossed her mind!
> Starshot: Well, now that ye've mentioned it, I Donna think I've ever heard ye talk about them.
MIKE: Irish?
TOM: Maybe Scottish. Check the Bad Accents Manual.
MIKE: Right. Okay, let's see... [pages rustle] Huh. Says here
"All British-Isles accents are basically interchangeable because American audiences can't tell the difference. See also
'Cockney,' 'Liverpuddlian,' 'Australian,' and 'Afrikaans.'" [closes the book] Well. That explains a lot.
TOM: It sure does.
CROW: Who's Donna?
> Bakerman: Well, there's a very good reason, Sara.
CROW: [Bakerman] I ate them all.
> (Panel 3. Bakerman ties the lights to a hook on the ceiling.)
MIKE: [Bakerman] Okay, now let's see, the rabbit runs around the tree thirteen times...no thanks, guys, I'll kick my own chair away when I'm good and ready.
> Bakerman: They make me look normal.
> Lotus: You, Mr. Nose ring and tattoo on your chest normal?
TOM: [Bakerman] Sure! Dad's into decorative amputation and Mom has a lava lamp grafted to her skull.
> (Panel 4. Bakerman faces Lotus.)
MIKE: Yes folks, it's the mystical magical wonders of...BLOCKING!
> Bakerman: Oh yea... for example, I've got a former uncle who is now in a hospital for
> the criminally insane. He was a cokehead and shot a bank teller to buy drugs.
> Taking him off cocaine made him homicidal.
TOM: Dear Abby: But aside from all that -- should I tell my fiancee about the cousin who works for Microsoft?
> Lotus: I'm sorry I asked.
CROW: Note to Lotus: Playing the author's pawn in order to torturously drag out a scrap of useless characterization for no good reason isn't worth the bribe money, babe.
MIKE: Uh...Lotus IS a "babe," right?
TOM: Gender is apparantly of no consequence in this story.
> (Panel 5. Bakerman slips, and falls to the ground.)
TOM: As opposed to the ceiling, or a convenient wall...
CROW: Okay, that riff was just plain sad. Take it back or I'm telling Mom.
> SFX: WHONK! Starshot: Chris!
MIKE: [Starshot] Jeepers! It's a good thing that passing goose broke your fall!
> (Panel 6. Bakerman stands, kicking the ladder.)
TOM: No, you idiot, the bucket! The BUCKET!
> Bakerman: %&*$ ladder!
CROW: Hey! No fair! This guy's stealing OUR lines!
> SFX: Kick!
MIKE: You realize I'm now picturing a foley guy right of stage saying "Kick!" into a microphone.
> Lotus: Chris, aren't you overreacting?
> (Page 6, panel 1. Bakerman catches himself.)
TOM: Unfortunately, with his forehead.
> Bakerman: You're right, I am overreacting... but I felt like something primal in me was
> being brought to the forefront.
CROW: [Bakerman] Oh dear. I think I'm in heat.
> (Panel 2. Bakerman grabs his head, and collapses.)
> Bakerman: UHN!!!
MIKE: He's been training with GenX, I see.
CROW: Huh. I'd think that would at least warrant an "argh"...maybe an "ugh," or perhaps an "owie"...
TOM: Reading Quamp's writing is kinda like watching a very small magnetic poetry kit in action.
> Starshot (rushing to him): CHRIS!!!
CROW: All right! His name is Chris! We get the point!
> (Panel 3. Starshot picks up Bakerman.)
MIKE: Promptly pulling her groin and crashing to the ground with a heartrending cry of purest agony...
ALL: "UNH!!!"
> Lotus: Let's get him to the infirmary.
CROW: Naah, I say we dump him on the neighbors' lawn and run!
> (Panel 4. We see Bakerman lying on a bed as Sonnos stands over him, scanning him.)
MIKE: It's SO disturbing the way he insists on doing it naked...
> Sonnos: There's some outside source influencing his mind.
> Lotus: What? Starshot: So why isn't it affecting the rest of us?
TOM: Because Bakerman was assigned the team braincell for the day, remember?
> (Panel 5. Sonnos faces the computer.)
MIKE: [Sonnos] CHRIS!!! Oops, sorry, it's kinda contagious.
> Sonnos: Computer, scan for abnormal emissions or chemicals in the air.
TOM: All clear, sir. No sign of Discharge.
MIKE: And there's one for the fans.
> Computer: Toast - orange you glad you saw me? - Germanium - Throwout... shutting
> down to correct internal problem.
CROW: Uh oh! Looks like it's time to...
ALL: REINSTALL WINDOWS!
> (Panel 6. Lotus faces the others.)
TOM: [Lotus] CHRIS!!! Yeah, Sonnos, I see what you mean about that "contagious" thing..
> Lotus: Looks like we're on our own here. Suit up, everyone. I have a feeling we're going
> to need special equipment.
CROW: To fix the computer...?
MIKE: No, that would screw up the contrived crossover.
> (Page 7, panel 1. Generation X headquarters, Snow Valley. We see Jubilee, Skin,
> and Synch lying on separate beds in the infirmary, holding their heads in pain.
MIKE: [Gaia, falsetto] Jono, you can let go of my head now.
> The three of them are strapped down from the armpits down. Gaia, Chamber, and
> Banshee stand over them.)
TOM: [Banshee] Right, let's get down to work shall we? Nurse Starsmore, hand me the funnel and a greased weasel.
> Cap (N): And back in Snow Valley...
ALL: DUH!
> Gaia: I do not understand it, Mr. Cassidy. They just suddenly went crazy.
TOM: Uh oh...I sense a Prince song coming on...
CROW: Fight it, man! FIGHT IT!
> Banshee: Ye did the right thing bringing them here, lassie.
MIKE: [Banshee] What? They fell down a well? Good girl!
> I'll contact Moira and see if she can help.
TOM: Wow! That'd be a first!
> (Panel 2. Banshee faces a computer screen.)
CROW: CHR--
MIKE: NO! Joke over! No more!
CROW: Well sheesh, you started it.
> Banshee: Computer, contact Moira MacTaggert's research base on Muir Island.
TOM: [sonorously] All hands brace for incoming accent. I repeat, all hands brace for incoming accent!
> (Panel 3. The screen shows the logo for Moira's research base.)
CROW: She has a logo...?
MIKE: More of a naughty .jpg of Professor Xavier, actually. [contemplates the mental image for a moment] Well, THAT'S going to require therapy.
> Computer voice: Thank you for calling the Muir Island research facility. All of our staff
> is busy now, so if you would like to hold, we will be with you shortly.
TOM: Press "1" to get whined at about Rahne's latest religious crisis. Press "2" to hear something in unintelligible Moira-
Scottish. Press "3" to hear Kitty's latest rant: "Why Pete Was A Wanker, Thank God For Raab." Press "4" to play a rousing game of "Where's Kylun?"...
> (Panel 4. Banshee slams his fist into the console, severing the link.)
> Banshee: Bloody technology!!
CROW: [Banshee, WAY exaggerated] Top'a th'mornin' t'ye -- Aye'm Irish. Aye'll remoind ye once'a puiragr'ph soo ye donna fuirget.
Faith & begorrah!
> (Panel 5. Gaia's eyes go wide in terror.)
MIKE: [Gaia] Oh my GOD--! HE'S IRISH!
> Gaia: Mr. Cassidy, please calm down.
MIKE: [Gaia] You're getting more Irish by the second!
> Banshee (turns): Calm down!? Who do ye think ye are, talking t'me like that!?
MIKE: [Gaia] AUGH! He touched me! I'm gonna get shamrocks!
> (Panel 6. Gaia psi blasts Banshee, making him grab his head.)
CROW: Funny, seeing as she zapped him smack in the package...
> Psi balloon (Pointing to Chamber): Well, this was productive.
TOM: [Chamber] Oi've got better things to do. Like Paige.
> Banshee:
CROW: All right, guys, all together now--
> UHN!
> (Page 8, panel 1. Enter Penance.)
MIKE: Oh no you don't! Not in this or ANY fanfic!
TOM: Ahem...
MIKE: Ah sorry, I thought those were stage directions.
> Gaia: Not you too, Penny.
MIKE: She's Irish too?
TOM: Okay, that's enough.
> Psi balloon (pointing to Chamber): This is a rotten time for Emma ta go off with
> Mr. Montoya.
TOM: Well, the lingerie is there for a reason and the school doesn't pay for itself.
CROW: Mr. WHO?
> (Panel 2. Penance gestures to a locked cabinet.)
> Gaia: What is it, Penny?
ALL: [in droning unison] A locked cabinet.
> (Panel 3. Penance slashes the lock, tearing it to shreds.)
> SFX: SLASH!!
TOM: [Banshee] WHAT?!? That's sick! Calm down, girl, just relax and tell us...is it DarkRiver again?
MIKE & CROW: FAAAAANFIC FAAAAANBOY!
> Gaia: Let's see what's inside.
TOM: [Gaia] Because I was just too dumb to figure out how to open it myself in the first place. Tee hee.
CROW: Hey Mike, do people really talk like that? I mean, describe everything they're about to do?
MIKE: Mike turned to Crow. "How about I tell you 'no'?" he said. "No."
CROW: Crow decided that Mike was an idiot. "I'm going to ignore the puny human's puny jokes and stare at more of this fanfic," he said.
MIKE: "The pu-- Mike is reaching over to grab Crow by the grill."
CROW: "Crow is going to bite off the puny human's puny fingers and spit them at the screen."
TOM: "Oh, so THERE'S my chainsaw, I think I shall use it on both of you," Tom threatened.
CROW: "I think I should shut up," Crow noted.
MIKE: "I think I will too," Mike agreed.
> (Panel 4. Chamber opens the cabinet up to see about 7-8 psi-headbands.)
CROW: [Church Lady] Well isn't that conveeeeenient.
> Psi balloon (pointing to Chamber): Psionic attack prevention headgear. It's worth a shot, luv.
TOM: [Banshee] Call me "luv" again and it's concussion-time, Flame-Boy.
> (Panel 5. Chamber puts one of the headbands over Synch's head. Gaia does the same to Jubilee.)
MIKE: Getting it niiiice and snug...just ignore that cracking sound...
> Gaia: I hope you're right about this, Penny...
CROW: Actually, Penny just wanted to play with the shiny lock.
> (Panel 6. Chamber puts a headband on Banshee as Gaia puts one on Skin.)
MIKE: [Gaia] Wheeee! This is just like playing dress-up with my dollies! Except my dollies aren't all gross and stretchy!
> Gaia: Now, we wait.
TOM: FOR WHAT?!?!?!?!?! Jubilee has a PMS attack the size of Rhode Island and they automatically assume that someone's going
to attack them...and worse yet, THEY PUT ON HEADBANDS AND WAIT AROUND IN THE MEDLAB FOR IT TO COME TO THEM?!?
CROW: Tom--
TOM: Don't "Tom" me. I know bald illogic when I see it. Quamp's
in for a good long therapeutic butt-kicking if I ever get off of this station. Therapeutic for ME, anyway.
> (Page 9, panel 1. Group X infirmary. We see Bakerman wake up, and sit up. Missing
> is Mirror.)
CROW: Narrating is Yoda, yes.
> Bakerman: Ooh... that hurt.
> Lotus: Chris... what happened?
MIKE: [Bakerman] Man, I didn't know roofies worked on guys too...
> (Panel 2. Bakerman faces Lotus.)
TOM: I'm getting the definite impression that these characters have no necks.
> Bakerman: I... I don't know, Lecita.
CROW: WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP! Characterization off the port bow!
TOM: It's only her first name.
CROW: I have a feeling that it's more than most of these poor sods are going to get in this story!
MIKE: Well, except for...
ALL: [shouting in unison] CHRIS!!!
> I felt a little angry then the next thing I know I'm here.
TOM: Ah yes, "missing time" -- a phenomenon reported by abductees, Internet addicts, and complete raging morons.
> Sonnos: We've got Quinton trying to fix the computer now.
MIKE: [Bakerman] Huh! I'd wondered where my bubblegum and the last pack of dental floss had vanished to.
CROW: Man, Psylocke could make an entire costume out of that.
> (Panel 3. Enter Mirror.)
CROW: [Mirror, brightly] Yup! Bunging a hammer right through the monitor always works wonders-- What? What are you all staring at?
> Mirror: Y'all, I've got the thing fixed... and you won't believe what's happening.
MIKE: [Mirror] There really IS a spaceship behind Halley's Comet, and they're pissed!
> (Panel 4. Briefing room. Group X enters to see the screen filled with a riot in the middle
> of Fort Worth.)
TOM: Heh! Those wacky Texans. What did Oprah badmouth THIS time -- gigantic belt buckles?
> Mirror: Whatever it was that affected Chris is affecting the world... everywhere, people
> are turning violent and taking up arms.
CROW: And in some extremely looney cases, legs!
> Lotus: That is a problem... we could end up in some global nuclear catastrophe.
MIKE: No, it's okay, I saw WHOPPER out rioting in the streets too.
TOM: Obligatory obscure 80's reference?
CROW: Check.
MIKE: Quota of "obligatory" jokes well exceeded?
CROW: Check-a-roonie!
> We've got to find the source of this pronto.
TOM: I don't know, what does the source of a pronto look like?
> (Page 10, panel 1. The computer responds.)
MIKE: Huh. So THAT'S how you spell "Bite Me" in binary.
> Computer: Source of abnormal transmissions detected.
> Lotus: Computer, display location of this source.
CROW: [Lotus] I knew it! It's the WB! Again!
> (Panel 2. The screen shows a map of Canada, with a dot over an island near Baffin Island.)
TOM: That's where satellites have tracked a radio collar attached to one of the five people who actually LIVE in Canada.
> Lotus: Quosent island? Never heard of it.
MIKE: [Lotus] Duhhh...for that matter, what's "Canada"?
> Bakerman: Whatever is there, we have to stop it.
MIKE: Oh all ye French-Canadians, tremble before the Day of Reckoning!
CROW: Doesn't Canada HAVE a superhero team?
MIKE: Nope.
TOM: What about Alpha Flight?
MIKE: Exactly.
TOM: Obligatory riff on Alpha Flight?
CROW: Check!
MIKE: Time for the obligatory popcorn & potty break?
BOTH BOTS: Check!
[Mike scoops up Tom and heads out with him, Crow in close pursuit.]
[theater...1...2...3...4...5...6...SOL]
[On the bridge of the Satellite Of Love, all is quiet. Tom and
Crow are playing a peaceful game of poker, sheafs of cards magically attached to their nonfunctional hands. (Being a puppet show, it's rude to use the word "glue.") The viewer waits for
chaos to erupt; none does. Gypsy sways calmly through at one point, merely humming to herself. Then Mike wanders in with a bowl of popcorn and a can of parmesan cheese.]
MIKE: Right, guys, back to the theater.
[Both bots eye him.]
CROW: Well?
MIKE: Well what?
TOM: Aren't you going to...you know...
MIKE: Uh, no, I don't.
CROW: C'mon, Mike! SOMEONE'S gotta do something wacky before we go back in there, and, frankly, we're all wacked out. [pauses to consider what he just said] You know what I mean.
MIKE: Ohhh no. I'm not doing anything wacky while I'm carrying
popcorn. I WANT this popcorn. I DON'T want to be picking it out of the deckplates for the next week. Look, I'm sorry, I'll
be wacky later if you want, but now is just not a good wack time for me, okay?
CROW: Party-pooper
MIKE: Let's go, you two.
[He heads for the doors just as the lights begin to flash. The
'bots follow meekly as the camera zooms into the corridor; however, right before the scene cuts fully to the doors
sequence, Tom hollers "GET HIS KNEES, MEN!" and a flurry of popcorn flies into the air.]
[SOL...6...5...4...3...2...1...theater]
[The trio shuffle back into their accustomed seats. Mike is grumbling, and even in silhouette one can see fluffy buttery
little puffs of Reddenbockery goodness tumbling from his hair, his collar, etc.]
MIKE: I'll get you guys for this...
TOM: Shhh! It's starting up again!
CROW: Man, we have GOT to teach Cambot to let it run while we're on break. I wonder how one bribes a cambot?
TOM: Say! Maybe he likes popcorn!
MIKE: Oh do shut up.
> (Panel 3. Generation X headquarters. The team is up and awake now.)
TOM: Except Tracy, who, judging by her perpetual vacant stare, hasn't technically been awake since 1987.
> Cap (N): And later...
> Jubilee: Ooh... that was totally skanky...
ALL: Ewwww!
CROW: Shower, girlfriend! SHOWER!
TOM: [muttering as if taking notes to self] Okay, Quamp, buttkicking AND a lecture on proper use of slang...
> Banshee: Look alive, lassie... we've got t'stop whatever is causing this.
MIKE: [Banshee] Hey, look, guys! I'll STILL Irish!
> (Panel 4. Gaia faces the computer.)
CROW: They sure do a lot of "facing the computer" in this story, don't they?
TOM: Hey, it's better than facing the plotholes.
> Gaia: We've had the computer working on where the source of these emissions is ... and
> it says that they are coming from a source near Baffin Island.
MIKE: Oh, it's just Canada...never mind.
TOM: Full quota of Canada jokes exceeded?
CROW: Check!
> Banshee: Then that's where we're going, lass.
TOM: I have a bad feeling that William Shatner is mixed up in this somewhere.
> (Panel 5. They go out.)
> Banshee: Hopefully, we can be back in time f'r Christmas.
MIKE: [Banshee] I'd sure hate for all that coal to go to waste. Arrrr begorrah.
> (Page 11, panel 1. Go back to Evil St. Nick. We see him smiling as he sees people fighting
> and hurting each other.)
TOM: But enough about his Jerry Springer addiction.
> Evil St. Nick: Soon... Christmas will be nothing but a memory... then, the world will be mine!!
CROW: Please, someone, explain to me how making people cranky = ending Christmas = taking over the world?
MIKE: Someday when you're older, honey.
CROW: Awww, man--!
> (Panel 2. Group X plane. We see them entering the plane.)
TOM: We see neatly wrapped packages of fresh hamburger exiting on a little ramp on the other side of the plane.
> Lotus: Be careful, everyone... we are definitely going into a trap.
MIKE: [Lotus] Trap good! Me smart! Oog!
> (Panel 3. Generation X headquarters. We see Banshee and the others revive, and be set free.)
TOM: But...but they...they just LEFT...half a page ago...and they weren't unconscious OR restrained...the horror...the horror...I'll get you for this, Quamp, I'll...get...youuuu...arrRRrrrgggRRRRghhhhhhhh...
[Tom starts to vibrate and spew thick black smoke -- prepared this time, Mike drapes a wet towel over the little bot and pats him consolingly as he weeps in abject misery]
> Cap (N): Meanwhile...
> Gaia: Welcome back, everyone.
> Jubilee: Like, what happened?
ALL: THAT'S WHAT WE'D LIKE TO KNOW!
TOM: If this turns into a one-scene version of Groundhog Day, I'm going to slam my head in a theater chair until I'm out of my
misery. Is that okay with you guys?
MIKE: Oh sure.
CROW: Me next.
> (Panel 4. Gaia is serious.)
CROW: Yep. She's serious. She's REALLY serious. Did we mention that she's serious? We simply cannot stress this fact enough. SHE'S REALLY REALLY SUPER-DUPER SERIOUS--!
> Gaia: We've traced the trouble to some weird psychic emission coming from northern Canada.
TOM: GASP! You mean it's--?
MIKE: Yes! Up in the sky! It's WEIRD-PSYCHIC-EMISSION-CANADIAN-MAN!
> We're going to need the team to stop it.
MIKE: Not THIS team, of course...
> Banshee: Aye, lass... everyone, suit up.
CROW: Moon prism power, make up!
TOM: Venus star power, make up!
MIKE: Jupiter crystal power, make up!
BOTH BOTS: Cheater--!
> (Page 12, panel 1. We see the Group X plane heading to Evil St. Nick's place.)
TOM: [deep booming voice] Meanwhile, at the Hall Of Justice...
CROW & MIKE: Huh?
TOM: Eh, I've always wanted to say that.
> Cap (N): And back with Group X...
MIKE: [conspiratory stage-whisper] We've secretly replaced the readers' real superheroes with Brand X Not-So-Superheroes. Let's see if they notice!
> (Panel 2. Go inside to see Group X in their uniforms, getting ready for the fight.)
TOM: Noooo, I'd rather not. I'll just stay outside for this scene, okay...?
> Lotus: Any analysis on the person responsible?
MIKE: Not completely sure yet, but the phrase "ho ho effin' ho" keeps popping up.
> Mirror: None, Lecita. the bunker he's in reflects all wavelengths that we throw at it.
CROW: [Lotus] Have you tried looking out the window at it, honey?
MIKE: [Mirror] Uh...duuuh...I had eggs for breakfast?
CROW: [Lotus] No.
> (Panel 3. The plane lands.)
> Lotus: Let's get ready, gang.
TOM: Scooby snacks for everyone!
> (Panel 4. We see Banshee flying an airplane over Canada.)
MIKE: And on your left is...a moose!
BOTH BOTS: Ooooo.
> Banshee: Get in yuir arctic gear, lads... this place is mighty cold.
TOM: Remember, though: to superheroes, "put on your arctic gear" means "throw a kicky little jacket over your pocket-and-belt-laden leotard."
CROW: Yep! With any luck, we'll be seeing a Monetsicle before nightfall!
> Jubilee: I just hope this dweeb behind it doesn't put up a big fight.
MIKE: [Jubilee] 'Cuz, like, I totally don't like doing this superhero stuff when it's, like, hard work 'n' stuff.
TOM: Look, kid, you're fighting an evil Santa Claus. How hard can it be? *Doofy Martians* can kick the REAL Santa Claus' butt!
> (Panel 5. The Gen X plane lands.)
> Banshee: We're here, lads.
CROW: I see Banshee hasn't told anyone yet that he's changing his name to "Stating-The-Obvious Man."
TOM: Being "Stating-The-Obvious Man," you'd think he'd have done so already.
> (Page 13, panel 1. Go over to see Group X in arctic coats walking to the hut. There is
> a snowstorm raging around them.)
TOM: [boredly] Insert obligatory hemorrhoid joke here.
> Mirror: Teleporters are useless in this snowstorm.
MIKE: Hey, no problem then -- if we get snowbound, we'll eat the teleporters first. Who here is a teleporter? Oh come on, speak up...
> Lotus: Well, everything's going to be useless unless we stop this person!
TOM: WH-WHAT PERSON?!?!?!?!? How do they know who's on that island? It could be an entire army for all they know! AUGH!!!
MIKE: Tom--
TOM: I know, I know: Count to ten. THEN target Quamp from orbit.
> (Panel 2. Walking Eagle tears the door off its hinges.)
TOM: Eagle, you moron, that was the PLANE'S door...
> Sonnos: We're going in.
CROW: [sarcastically] Oh THANK you, Captain Eo.
> (Panel 3. About 15 large (6-foot) toy soldiers meet them.)
MIKE: Oh dear. I think we've just crossed over into the mind of Jess Willey.
> Evil St. Nick: Soldiers, Forward!
> Lotus: Adolf?
TOM: Wonderful. Lotus is having another one of her "I was Goebbels in my past life" flashbacks. Someone whack her with a
board, please.
> (Panel 4. The soldiers fire their weapons.)
> Evil St. Nick: The wave will end... once Christmas has!!
CROW: [dopey surfer voice] It's Big Wednesday, man! The wave will NEVER end! WOOOO!
> Starshot: Ye fiend! Christmas is one of the most celebrated holidays in the world!
MIKE: [Starshot] You...you....you big bully! Why don't you go pick on Kwanzaa or something?
CROW: Yeah! It's not like it's a real holiday anyway!
TOM: CROW!
> (Panel 5. We see Lotus shift into her spirit form.)
CROW: Oh, yeah, THAT'S useful. Egon, get the trap.
> Lotus: You were always the psycho, Adolf, wanting to support causes that you knew
> wouldn't win.
TOM: Like bringing back "Invasion America"?
CROW: Yeah! Or saving "Mys--"
[Mike grabs his beak]
MIKE: Leave the nice fourth wall alone, honey.
> Evil St. Nick: ADOLF IS DEAD!!! THERE IS ONLY EVIL ST. NICK!!
MIKE: [ESN] In fact, I am decaying AS WE SPEAK! BWAHAHAHAHA!!! Yes, that IS my finger -- give it back, you little hussy.
> (Page 14, panel 1. The Generation X people enter from the other side, to be greeted by
> a hail of bullets. Penance steps to the forefront, and the bullets bounce off her.
TOM: [narrating ponderously] The resulting ricochets plug each
and every member of Group X smack between the eyes. GenX then becomes too absorbed in trying to figure out why Penance is
pointing at trees and random clods of snow to do anything about the bad guy. Christmas is easily destroyed by Evil St.
Nick and the entire world goes back to non-commercially celebrating the winter solstice. In other words, it's a happy
ending! Yay!
> Banshee puts up a sonic shield around the others.)
MIKE: All hail Banshee's amazing Cannonball impression!
> Jubilee: Ohmigawd! This is like totally skanky!
TOM: AUGH! Shut up shut up shut UP!
CROW: Hey, it's not the character's fault that the author has no idea what "skanky" means.
TOM: I AM yelling at the author! Quamp? Shut up shut up SHUT UP!!!
> (Panel 2. Lotus gets closer to Evil St. Nick.)
CROW: Downright snuggly, even. Sheesh! No control, that girl. None at all!
> Evil St. Nick: Stay away from me! I'll kill you!!
> Lotus: While I am in this form, you cannot kill me. Relax, Adolf...
MIKE: [dramatically] Lotus. Is. Eva Braun!
> (Panel 3. Lotus puts a hand into Evil St. Nick's head.)
TOM: [dramatically] And these are his BRAINS!
MIKE & CROW: [obediently] Ewwww.
> Lotus: All will be well.
> Evil St. Nick: AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!
CROW: Not "UHN"...? Man. I feel kinda cheated.
> (Panel 4. Evil St. Nick falls, out cold. Lotus turns solid.)
> Lotus: Now, let's turn this machine off here.
MIKE: [Lotus] Hey Bakerman, get over here and flash your back-hair at it. That sure turned ME off.
> (Panel 5. Lotus pushes a button, and the machine goes off.)
TOM: [Lotus] Tee hee! I'm glad that was the right button! Heeeey, what does this red one do?
> Lotus: Wonderful, we've managed to do it just before Christmas Eve...
CROW: Just in time for Jack Skellington to muff it up all over again...!
> (Page 15, panel 1. We see the soldiers deactivate, and stop firing.)
> Bakerman: Whew! I'm glad this is over.
TOM: [hopefully] Is it over? Is it really?
MIKE: Uhhh...no.
TOM: WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> (Panel 2. Generation X break a door down, and enter.)
CROW: NOOOO-body expects the Spanish Generation! Our three chief powers are angst, acne, pointless extra characters, bad hair --
four, FOUR things -- bugger. We'll come in again.
> Jubilee: Alright you dweeb I'm gonna - Esteban!?
MIKE: Gloria?!
TOM: Chief?
CROW: I am SO not saying "McCloud" this time, guys.
> Sonnos: Jubilaci�n?
MIKE: [Banshee] Ye two know each other?
CROW: [Sonnos] Nope.
TOM: [Jubilee, squeaky] Lucky guess.
> (Panel 3. Sonnos and Jubilee embrace.)
CROW: I sure hope that's the Hug Of Death. I am SO not in the mood for a romantic interlude here...
> Sonnos: Ah, mi amor... I have missed you so much.
MIKE: [Jubilee, a la Gomez Addams] Ooo! Sonnos, you spoke French!
CROW: Uh, Mike, he's speaking Italian or Spanish or something.
MIKE: Like the mallchick there can tell the diff?
CROW: Ohhh. Like, right.
> Jubilee: Mmm... This is like the best present I could have gotten.
TOM: A tongue?
> (Panel 4. Mirror approaches Penance.)
TOM: [Mirror] Penance?
MIKE: [Penance] Mirror?
TOM: [Mirror] Mi amor!
MIKE: [Penance] Sweetums!
TOM: [Mirror] Steakiemuffin!!
MIKE: [Penance] Take me! Right here! Right now!
TOM: [Mirror] Gaah! Not without life insurance!
> Cap (M1): That's her!
CROW: [Mirror] That's the woman who Ate My Balls (TM)!
> Cap (M2): That's the woman that the holographic message said I was to fall in love with!
MIKE: [Mirror] I do anything that strange hologrammatical women ask me to do. Then again, I also obey my Rice Krispies.
> Mirror: Hi there... my name is Quinton,
CROW: Hoover?
MIKE & TOM: MAAAAGIC FAAAANBOY!
> and you are.... ?
TOM: Nicole?
CROW: Claudia?
MIKE: Batman?
> Penance: Yvette.
ALL: Damn!
> *Cap (N): *Remember here that Penance speaks with the help of a voice module fastened
> to her neck.
TOM: [flat and mechanical like Ned from South Park] Mmmyou-mean-she-talks-like-this.
CROW: [same voice] Mmmyes-sexy-isn't-it.
> (Panel 5. The two stare into each other's eyes, and sparks fly.)
CROW: Y'know, if your eyes strike sparks, odds are you're standing too close.
> Mirror: Yvette... that's such a beautiful name.
> Penance: Flatterer.
MIKE: [Mirror] Duuuuh...that's a pretty name too!
> (Panel 6. Lotus faces Banshee.)
CROW: Well, it's a refreshing change from "facing the computer."
TOM: No necks at all, I'm tellin' ya. Not one functioning neck in the lot.
> Lotus: Well, looks like they're enjoying themselves.
MIKE: [Banshee] Good god, not again! Stand aside, I've got the hose...
> Banshee: Aye. We really weren't planning on this.
CROW: Yeah, he was planning to breed her to a *pedigreed* stud.
> Just who was this? (Panel 7. They continue to talk.)
MIKE: [ditzy falsetto] Wow! What a coincidence! I collect used thumbtacks too! It's a match made in heaven!
> Lotus (1): His real name is Milton Sheldonstein, but when I first met him, he went by
> the name of Adolf Rommel.
TOM: I don't blame him. It's certainly less embarrassing than "Milton Sheldonstein."
> When I first met him, he was a goose-stepping nazi, complete with uniform and salute.
MIKE: You should have SEEN his "Full Formal Double Rimmer"! The man was Olympic-caliber!
> He resisted all treatment whatsoever, thinking that "The evil Jews were out to poison his mind."
> Lotus (2): Never you mind that I'm not Jewish.
CROW: [Lotus, squeaky falsetto] I am, however, evil.
> (Page 16, panel 1. Lotus smiles.)
MIKE: [Lotus, slyly] So, now that we're alone...saaaay, well whaddya know, I just happen to have a spare copy of the Watchtower...
TOM: Run, Banshee! RUN!!!
> Lotus: Well, now that things have happened, I think we should let them be together for
> Christmas, right?
CROW: [Lotus, same squeaky falsetto] Virginity is bad! Tee hee!
> Banshee: Aye... ye'd need a crowbar and superhuman strength t'get Jubilee away from
> Sonnos now.
TOM: Or at least a fire extinguisher and a croquet mallet.
> (Panel 2. Group X secondary base, on Jester Island, Texas. We see the Group X plane landing.)
MIKE: Cyclops smiley!
TOM: Where?
[Mike points to the end of the last line]
TOM: [hesitantly] I guess...if you squint at it...
CROW: I thought [-) was a Cyclops smiley?
MIKE: Hey, how do you do--
BOTH BOTS IN UNISON: It's a [Mike chimes in too] 'bot thing.
MIKE: Riiiight. Got it. Sheesh.
> Cap (N1): It's a base that they use for special occasions.
ALL: PAAAAR-TEEEEEEEE!!!
> Cap (N2): When your primary base gets blown up a lot like the X-bases do,
> Cap (N3): It helps to have a backup.
MIKE: [pompous announcer voice] That's why Cable has American Express!
> Cap (N4): Right now, they're going there to spend some time before, during, and after Christmas.
TOM: Wow! Once again the author's brilliant exposition makes the next scene blindingly clear! Thank you for the spoilers, Quamp! We don't even have to read the rest of the story now! C'mon, you guys, I'm audi, adios, see ya, gone--ow! Mike, leggo -- OW!
> (Panel 3. The teams teleports into the place, seeing the place has been cleaned up and
> decorated for Christmas.)
TOM: By who? Elves?
MIKE: Elves in spandex, perhaps.
CROW: I wouldn't be surprised.
> Lotus: We're home, everyone.
> Jubilee: God, this is so much better than that totally cold arctic place.
MIKE: This is the point where BOTH teams snap, fold her up, and stuff her butt-first into the freezer.
> (Panel 4. Later. We see Generation X celebrating with Group X in the living area.
> Everyone is dressed nicely for the occasion.)
CROW: [campy] Thongs! Sequined thongs for EVERYONE!
> Cap (N1): Later.
TOM: [snort] Not "later" enough for MY taste.
> Cap (N2): They've traded their uniforms for something more celebratory.
CROW: [even campier] Feather boas and whipped cream too? Ooo!
MIKE: Crow, buddy? You're frightening us.
> (Panel 5. We see Sonnos holding some mistletoe over Jubilee's head.)
TOM: [Sonnos] And THIS is how Loki killed Baldur...watch closely now...
> Sonnos: Look above you, mi amor.
> Jubilee (smiles): Well, I'm under the mistletoe, hm?
MIKE: I warn you, my tongue is classified as a deadly weapon on three continents.
CROW: Hey, was that supposed to be Sonnos or Jubilee?
MIKE: Use your imagination.
CROW: That's exactly it -- I don't WANT to.
> (Panel 6. Sonnos and Jubilee embrace, and kiss.)
> Lotus: Well, nice to see you two are still together.
TOM: [Jubilee] Mmmm-mmm-mmmph. Mmm...MMPH! MMMPH!!!!!!!
CROW: [Lotus] Heh. Must be the super-glue.
> (Page 17, panel 1. Sonnos and Jubilee part.)
MIKE: Allowing a few thousand Hebrew slaves to scuttle to safety...
> Sonnos: Amiga, do you mind, two's company; three is a crowd.
CROW: [lewdly] That's not what you said last-- [Mike thumps him on the beak] --oof!
MIKE: Mind you, Crow, that was just for being predictable.
> Lotus: Well, we've got the big toast coming up.
TOM: Yes, it's a good thing that the firepit is Jubilee-sized.
> (Panel 2. Go over to see Mirror getting close to Penance.)
CROW: Again, we'd rather not!
> Mirror: It's wonderful to be with you, Yvette...
MIKE: [Mirror, smarmily] Saaaay, I'll bet your father was a thief and your legs are really tired. [pause] Drat. Hold on, let me try this again.
> (Panel 3. Banshee clinks his glass. )
> Banshee: Lads, lassies, gather around... it's time t' make the toast.
TOM: We're going to swipe Chamber's bandages and throw bread at him until some sticks.
> SFX: Ping!
CROW: Bit of a delay there, eh?
TOM: [suspiciously] Was that an IRC joke?
CROW: What? Why, Tom, your suspicion wounds me. I am the soul of innocence.
TOM: Robots don't HAVE souls.
CROW: You don't want to know where I got this one, then.
> (Panel 4. Everyone gathers around Banshee.)
MIKE: He's the pinata.
> Banshee: It's not often we get to relax from the rigors that our lives demand of us.
CROW: [Banshee, lewdly] So I'm going to expect...favors...from now on.
> I know each one of us has been hated, hurt, and otherwise put down by a world that
> doesn't like us.
TOM: [Banshee] But enough about how *I* feel about you little snots...
> But frankly, there is one thing about life that makes it worth living... that is, friends
> and teammates like ye.
CROW: [Banshee] Yes, knowing that I might yet live to see you ripped to bite-sized pieces in battle is the only thing that keeps me going. Begorrah faith arrr.
> I couldna ask f'r a finer lot than ye.
MIKE: [Banshee] Oh no, wait! I forgot about X-Force. You're all fired.
> Lotus: I have to agree, Sean. Everyone here is willing to do what it takes to make the
> world safe for everyone....
CROW: [Lotus, chirpy falsetto] I'm starting by getting my tubes tied!
> despite all our differences, despite coming from almost different worlds, we can unite
> and work for the right thing.
MIKE: And that is...?
TOM: Gravy! Really GOOD gravy!
> (Page 18, full panel page. We see everyone raising his or her glasses to the viewer.)
TOM: Oh god no. NO. They're not about to--
> ALL: Merry Christmas to one and all!
TOM: They did! They DID! Augh! Killllll--!
MIKE: And the fourth wall shudders in sudden pain...
CROW: John Byrne you are NOT, Quamp.
MIKE: Say, this is like that really old Doctor Who Christmas episode...
TOM: Yeah, except the special effects in this REALLY suck.
Dr. Who Christmas episode??? Where is this? I can't find it...
> (Page 19, panel 1. Later. We see the Generation X ladies looking over Mirror.)
MIKE: Monet's changing her name to "Vanity Smurf."
CROW: Well, it IS what's on her birth certificate, after all.
> Zero G: Say, who's the new hunk?
TOM: Well, judging by the multiple lacerations, I'd say he's Penance's boy-toy.
CROW: A hunk of WHAT, I'd like to know!
> M: Well, it's obvious what his intentions are.
MIKE: Actually, considering the complete lack of characterization in this story...no.
> (Panel 2. Zero G faces M.)
ALL: CHRIS!!!
> Zero G: It is?
> M: Il est �vident qu'il me veuille.
MIKE: Oh yeah, Miss High-School Francais? Well, It's obvious to US that you're a bitch.
BOTH BOTS: [shocked] MIKE!
MIKE: Um. Sorry, guys, but she reminds me so much of this girl I knew back in--
CROW: No!
TOM: Never mind!
> Well, I'll admit he's nice, but not my type.
TOM: Intensely rich, preferably impotent, and very, very dead.
> (Panel 3. Mirror approaches the Gen X ladies.)
> Zero G: Here he comes...
TOM: [singing] Walkin' down the street...
> (Panel 4. M strikes a fashion model pose as Mirror passes her by.)
CROW: [Mirror] Sorry, I'm not into ice sculptures.
> M (not amused): Ah-hem.
MIKE: [Mirror] No, I'm not into underaged twins either.
> Mirror: Oh, sorry about that. Excuse me, please.
TOM: [Mirror] Did you know that a little light goes on in the back of your mouth every time you open it?
> (Panel 5. M gets angry as Mirror goes toward Penance.)
CROW: [Mirror] Man! Fine! Women can't keep their hands off of me, I swear... I'll feel you up in the kitchen later, okay babe?
> M: C'est un idiot!
MIKE: "That's an idiot?"...?
TOM: Incoming Franglais at 0800, boys! Get DOWN--!
> (Panel 6. M gets in front of Mirror.)
CROW: And freezes, narcissically transfixed the sight of her own reflection.
> M: Vous �tes stupide!
TOM: Vous? How many people is she bitching at now?
MIKE: Well, much as I hate to defend this particular weenie of an author, "vous" IS technically the formal singular form--
TOM: I don't care! It's just plain stupid to refer to one person as several!
CROW: Oh come ON, buddy -- it's French! Those people think that *furniture* has gender. Let it go.
TOM: [sniff!] Ohhhh, okay. [beat] Say, since when do you two "Clerks" wannabes know any French?
MIKE: If we told you--
CROW: --we'd have to recycle you.
> (Panel 7. M slaps Mirror.)
> SFX: SLAP!!
CROW: Oh! She SLAPPED him! Ahahah! I get it now! Good thing for those SFX, I would NEVER have figured it out!
> (Panel 8. M nurses her hand as stars of pain come from it.)
TOM: Yes, it's the St. Croix family's TRUE dirty secret: Claudia's a 'toon.
> Mirror: Look, you're nice, Monet...
MIKE: That boy lies better than Gambit tellin' Rogue that those couldn't possibly be alimony checks that he sends out every third Friday.
> but you're not my type.
> M: Sacre Bleu! This really hurts!
[At this pinnacle of badly mangled Pepe-Le-Peu-style "French," Tom bursts out crying helplessly again]
TOM: "Sacre dieu"..."sacre DIEU"...Mike, make him stop...please...
> (Page 20, panel 1. Later. We see Mirror and Penance standing on the beach, by
> themselves. She wears a one-piece swimsuit; he wears a pair of swimtrunks.)
CROW: On his HEAD!
> Mirror: It's true, Yvette. My mutant power reflects the attack back on the attacker.
> Your razor sharp, diamond hard skin won't cut me.
TOM: "Razor sharp, diamond hard skin"...? You know, you can buy lotion for that...
MIKE: I hear Joan Rivers does.
> (Panel 2. Mirror holds hands with Penance.)
CROW: By his logic, consequently tearing HER hand to ribbons. Nice guy.
> Mirror: See? You and I were meant for each other.
TOM: Huh...judging by THAT logic, he's also meant for Omega Red.
> Penance: It's much more complicated than that, Quinton.
MIKE: [Penance] It involves words of more than one syllable, for starters...am I losing you already?
> (Panel 3. Penance turns away.)
ALL: To face the computer!
> Penance: I'm not just one person - I'm two people trapped in one body. My names are
> Nicole and Claudette St. Croix.
MIKE: [Penance] And neither of 'em likes boys, if you catch my drift.
> (Panel 4. Mirror puts an arm around Penance.)
CROW: [Penance] Uh, Mirror honey, I don't think you heard me right. Let me try again. I'm actually two CHILDREN named Nicole and Clau...eep! Hey, stop that, you'll give us cooties! I'll tell! BANSHEEEEE!
> Mirror: Yvette, I'm the only chance you have for love. I know you've been following the
> divine path as have I.
[Crow suddenly lets out a bloodcurdling shriek of anguish. Both Mike and Tom jump about three feet into the air]
CROW: Uh! Heh. Sorry, guys. I'm tougher than Tom, sure, but, well, this story just finally burned out MY "what the %&#*ing HELL?!?" chip.
TOM: I hear ya, buddy. I hear ya.
MIKE: I can't. I think you punctured my eardrum.
> Penance: What could you know about divineness?
TOM: Not as much as he knows about child molestation, apparently. Ewwww.
> (Panel 5. Mirror kisses Penance.)
MIKE: As he "reflects" her power, his mouth promptly fills with her blood...
CROW: Ick! Stop that!
> Mirror: Love is the most divine act we can do.
MIKE: Well, that and make a really GOOD toasted B.L.T. With avocado, even. Mmmm.
> (Panel 6. Penance embraces Mirror as they continue to kiss.)
TOM: [Penance, falsetto] Is your hand being under my shirt part of this whole "divine" thing?
> Cap (N1): And love strikes again.
CROW: Ow! Quick! Somebody, anybody, suck out the poison!
> Cap (N2): Whether it will last or not,
> Cap (N3): Only time will tell.
TOM: [pitifully] Can time tell me why I'm currently bleeding from the eyes?
> --End--
ALL: Please!
> And a happy holiday season to all of you from me, Quamp. No matter what religion you
> celebrate, enjoy every day of your life.
TOM: Oh sure, we will, now that we know that we'll NEVER HAVE TO READ THIS STORY EVER AGAIN.
CROW: Actually, I think it's part of a series...
MIKE: [quietly, a la Sallah in "Raiders Of The Lost Ark"] Rrrun.
BOTH BOTS: Huh?
MIKE: RUN!!!
All three make a mad tangled lunging stumbling thrashing break for the theater exit. Cue doors...]
[theater...1...2...3...4...5...6...SOL]
[The bridge of the Satellite Of Love. Our Heroes are standing pensively behind the console, apparently deep in thought. After a long pause...]
CROW: So.
TOM: So.
MIKE: Uh huh.
[More pause. More thought.]
CROW: So...that was a "GenX" fanfic, huh?
TOM: Yup.
MIKE: Uh huh.
Even more pause. Even deeper thought.]
CROW: At least "Hobgoblins" was in color.
TOM: Mmm-hmm.
MIKE: Oh ayuh.
[Pause pause pause. Thought thought thought.]
CROW: Miiike?
MIKE: Yes, Crow?
CROW: Why are you in a sailor suit?
MIKE: Why the surprise? I've worn it before.
CROW: Mike...the sailor suit you wore before didn't have a mini-skirt and a moon sceptre.
MIKE: Oh -- that. Well, there's a perfectly rational reason...
TOM: You've snapped?
MIKE: Why yes, that was the reason I was trying to remember. Oh look, Pearl's calling.
TOM: Like anyone else ever calls?
MIKE: Hush, Artemis.
[Mike daintily taps the flashing call button with said sceptre, and the scene shifts to Castle Forrester.]
PEARL: Why, Nelson! What a charming...uh... [brightly] EH-nyway...as you may or may not know up there, I declared war on
those Internet imposters, but I've decided after much thought and heavy losses--
[SOL]
ALL: Losses?!?
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: [makes a dismissing motion with one hand] Oh, just Bobo,
he was carried off to be sacrificed to some pagan god named
Eee-Bay or something, it's not important. As I was saying, I've decided that a war is a serious drain on my precious time,
which is better applied towards taking over the world, of course.
[SOL]
CROW: [helpfully] And torturing us?
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Right, and torturing you. Soooo I think I'll be a
magnanimous future Empress Of All Earth by not destroying their puny little "web" just yet. [thoughtful beat] Besides, they
might yet prove useful. Have you ever heard of the name..."Ratliff"?
[SOL]
[Mike goes white. Crow's jaw drops. Tom starts shuddering.]
MIKE: B-b-but Dr. F already--
TOM Now hang on, YOU already--
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Oh please -- my late unlamented son's bumbling attempts were about as far from true science as a ham sandwich. And
honestly, I can't keep track of all the schlock I feed you. Yes, I think I CAN come up with something...useful. [She chuckles a low dangerous "bwahahahah," smiling demonically into the camera. Then her expression snaps abruptly back to "absent-
minded yet saintly scientist" mode; she even starts tapping a pen against her chin as she examines a clipboard.] In the
meantime, though, no more fanfics. I'll need to recalibrate my instruments to allow for the lack of visuals; my readings were absolutely MILES off. Most distressing. In fact, I don't
think I can use ANY of the data from "Psycho Christmas."
[SOL]
TOM: [overly cheery] Oh my, what a shame, what a terrible pity! I guess we'll just be moseying along now -- wouldn't want to
distract you from those all-important readings, heavens no, eheheheh! [stage whisper aside] MOVE it, guys, before she comes up with something wo--
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: And just where the Sam Hill do you three Stooges think you're going?
[SOL]
MIKE: [freezing in mid-sneak-off] Errr uhhh...somewhere else?
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Oh no you don't. I'm not putting this clipboard down until I get some useable data! Back into the theater, all of you!
[SOL]
CROW: [whining] But you said no more fanfics--!
[Castle Forrester]
PEARL: Did I say I was sending you a fanfic? I don't THINK so.
Y'see, I figure about it'll take about three hours for me to complete my calculations, and I have juuuust the thing to keep
you lot out of trouble. Brace yourselves for three mind-numbing
hours of cream o' donkey soup, "good seed," and
Kevin "Outacted By His Own Children" Costner! Brain Guy?
OBSERVER [offscreen]: Yes ma'am?
PEARL: Send up..."THE POSTMAN"! And make sure you lop out the
good part about Tom Petty first -- there shall be no relief this time! Science shall triumph over sanity! BWAAHAHAH!
[Lights flash, klaxons wail, and once again screams of anguish ring out from a certain dog-bone-shaped satellite in
geosynchronous orbit...]
FINIS
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This has been a Subreal Production. No mutants or animals were harmed during the making of this MSTing; however, my goldfish
had to wait longer than usual for feedings and are thus no
longer speaking to me. I finally met Andrew "X" Vincent and he rocks. Keep circulating the tapes.
> M: Sacre Bleu! This really hurts!
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