"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE,
                               BOYS...''
              
THE BEATLES ON THE SATELLITE OF LOVE?
                                   a misting from the walrus was crow!

Hi, I'm Joel Robinson and welcome to the Satellite of Love. As you know,this is the first anniversary of the second annual Beatles convention here. It oughta be pretty cool, the bots are dressing up like the Fab Four...oh, here they come,let's watch...
CROW: Hey,Joel-man, far out! Are you a fellow Daydream Tripper?
SERVO: "Man, he's takin' that Last Train to Penny Lane!"
JOEL:"What are you guys *TALKING* about?"
SERVO:"Feel his bad vibes, Davey!"
CROW:"He's giving off zero karma, Peter! Right, Gypsy Ringo?"
GYPSY: "I'M A BELIEVER!!"
JOEL: "Wait a minute,I think you guys have mixed up the Beatles with that other loveable, but less popular and innovative group, the Monkees!"
CROW:
"But we watched that commercial you gave us!"
JOEL: "Oh NO! that Pizza Hut commercial with the Monkees and Ringo! I've got some 'splaining to do!"
         
COMMERCIAL SIGN IN 5 SECONDS...
JOEL:
"We'd better go before they try to meld "She Loves You" and "Head". We'll be right back."
SERVO: "Here we come,It's been a hard day's night, we get the grooviest looks..."
                    
COMMERCIAL SIGN NOW

DR. FORRESTER: "Hello goodbye, Sgt. Pooper! Today's experiment is going to be a little different!"
JOEL:"You mean we're gonna watch an Adam Sandler movie?"
DR. FORRESTER: "No, even *I* wouldn't go that far. With the help of T.V.'s Frank--uh,wave, Frank--we're going to send you wing-nuts on a magical MISERY tour!"
SERVO: "We're making a home movie and airing it in a holiday, only to have it roundly panned by critics?"
DR.FORRESTER: (looks confused) "NO! With the help of the new Super-Umbillicon,I'm sending you cornjobs back to the fu-cha!"
FRANK: "Uh, Steve?"
DR. FORRESTER: (far away look...) "...to the past, I mean! Why, if this experiment is a success, maybe i'll finally be able to afford that head-stone for Larry...poor spider...anyway, Frank,flip the switch!"
FRANK: "The switch is flipped! Uh, Dr. Forrester? How are we gonna know if it worked? I mean, they're out in space and all..."
DR. FORRESTER: "Have patience,booby!"
CROW: "I don't FEEL different!"
JOEL: "Yeah,how are we supposed to know...."
GYPSY: "Somethings coming thru on the Hexfield viewscreen!"
      
(HEXFIELD OPENS, REVEALING THE BEATLES)
JOEL: "Hey you guys, it's the fab four!"
CROW: "You mean Clinton,Lewinsky, Jones and Flowers?"
JOEL: "No, It's The Beatles!"
BEATLES: "Hello,cobbers!"
JOEL: "Hey guys, we're havin a Beatles convention up here!"
JOHN: "Good on yer."
GEORGE:"Got any jam butties on the buffet?"
SERVO:"Wow! Hey, John, let me ask you: what *WAS* "I Am the Walrus" about anyway?"
JOHN:"Why, it was about Crow, of course"
JOEL: "Hey, wait a minute...you look like the Beatles circa 1964, so how would you know about a song not written until 1967?"
JOHN: "Nothing is real, Joel"
PAUL:
"Yeah, you know, it's just a show, you should really just relax"
RINGO:"Well, sorry fellers, but we have to be going now. Mr. Epstein's booked us in Mexico"
GEORGE: "Yeah, bullfighters and such, you see."
JOEL: "Well, nice of you to stop by!"
BEATLES: "Bye! Goodnight! Very clean satellite, wasn't it?"
CROW:
"Well, I guess they had to Get Back!"
JOEL:
"Yeah."
CROW:
"Maybe they needed some Help! I suppose they took a Ticket to Ride! They sure didn't take the last train...wait a minute..."
JOEL: "
Never mind, the meter maids are calling"
DR. FORRESTER: "I had *HOPED* meeting Hermans Hermits Would break your spirits but Frank sent the way back machine the wrong way! Well, now you'll ALL pay!! Todays torture is a piece of 50's propaganda called "The Girl Can't Help It"!
JOEL: "Hey, isn't that where Jayne Mansfields boobs make everything explode?"
CROW: (quietly) "Exploding boobies?"
DR. FORRESTER: "*FRANK!!!* That's the last time I let you pick the experiment!
FRANK: (pantsed) OWWEEE OWWEE!!
DR. FORRESTER: "I hope you blue *WEENIES* have learned something! Until next time, ol' flat-top!"
                      
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Copyright 2000, David W. Reynolds
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