[The theme song begins for "Ranger Science Theater 3000". It starts with a long shot of the city park, trucking in on the Ranger HQ.] VOICE OF CASSANDRA: In a not too distant city Inside a big oak tree There was a mouse named Gadget Just as sweet as can be [Scene cuts to Gadget (a mouse) and Foxglove (a bat) reading over some "Psychology Yesterday" magazines and apparently talking.] She and Foxglove decided to see What if Chip, Dale, Zipper, and Monty Were quarantined and then subjected to Numerous mental stress events Until their brains turned to goo? [Scene changes to the first episode, where the conversation pit and television are being walled up and Zipper (a fly) given the camera, while Monterey Jack (a large mouse), Dale (a chipmunk), and Chip (another chipmunk) are locked inside.] MONTY: Wait... a... sec! [Scene cuts back to the Workshop, with printers in the background churning out huge amounts of stories.] FOXGLOVE: We'll send them whacked-out readings GADGET: The worst we can find (la la la) [Scene changes to the T.V. Chamber, where Chip, Monterey, and Dale are cringing at a e-mail spam message about consolidating loans.] They'll all be dears and read them all while we monitor their minds (la la la) [Scene cuts back to the outside of the tree at night with the glare of the television in the window, as time-lapse photography shows the tree going through all four seasons.] VOICE OF CASSANDRA: Now keep in mind the boys are too nice To turn Gadget and Foxy down (la la la) So they'll just have to tough it out Through every verb and noun [Scene switches to a large sign made from black tape on the wall in the back of the living room.] Ranger Roll Call! [Each time a Ranger is mentioned, the scene cuts to a shot of them.] Zipper (Bzzt zzztz zz? -- [subtitled] I'm in this?) Monty (How much longer?) Chip (What was I thinking?) Daaaaaaale! (Is it time for "Ricki Lake" yet?) [Scene cuts back to Monty and the 'munks at the table, playing cards.] If you're wondering why they don't just leave Or other logic facts (la la la) [Scene switches again to show them ducking inside the passage to the T.V. Chamber passage as the LiteBrite bulbs are blinking.] Then keep in mind that this is just a spoof So just kick back and relax [Scene cuts to the Ranger emblem over the front door (now nailed shut).] for some Ranger Science Theater 3000 *Twang!* [The slow zoom out from the T.V. Chamber through the passage begins. Door #1 is attached to a mousetrap and snaps back into place. Door #2 slides to a close on a couple of Rollerblade wheels. Door #3 is a CD which rolls into place. Door #4 Velcros shut, lifted into place by some Lego pillars rising from the floor. Door #5 hinges shut, a tinker toy gate. Door #6 is a large shutter for a camera, snapping shut. The last thing to close is the small air lock door, sealing off the passage.] [Living Room] [Dale is seen sitting at the table, apparently drawing something on a spare sheet of paper. Monty and Chip enter from the side.] MONTY: Heya, bucko. CHIP: [looking at the paper] What's this? DALE: [finishing up his sketch] It's basically what I see as our entire problem right now. You see, we're stuck right now going through these crummy fanfics because...? [makes prompting motions] [Chip glances at Monterey, who nods.] CHIP: Because we told Gadget we would? DALE: Besides that! [Chip and Monterey look confused, then shrug.] DALE: It's because of this tree! [he holds up a crude rendering of the large oak tree they live. Arrows and pointers cris-cross the paper, making no sense whatsoever.] You see? MONTY: Er... no. CHIP: How is the tree a problem? DALE: Geez, and you guys call *me* slow. Okay, look, see, we're trapped in here, and thus have to go through the fanfics, right? Well, if we were out of this tree, we wouldn't have to read it anymore! CHIP: [hesitantly] Uh, gee. I can't refute your logic, Dale. Except that we promised Gadget and Foxglove we'd go through with this. MONTY: Well, sorta. Still, Dale's got a valid point. I guess. DALE: [smiling] Yeah, I guess you could say that this tree is really at the "root" of all our problems, eh? MONTY: [chuckling] Too right, mate. But no worries. Its "bark" is worse than its bite. [Dale and Monty laugh. Chip is not amused.] DALE: Uh-oh, these puns are starting to "branch" out. [More laughter. Chip sighs and puts his head in his hands.] MONTY: Think we should "truncate" 'em? DALE: Nah, it's not right to just "prune" these. [They laugh harder, while Chip turns and starts offscreen.] CHIP: I need to run to the kitchen for a minute. [He walks offscreen.] MONTY: Poor bloke. He "leaves" right when we're at our prime. DALE: Yeah, the "sap". [Apparently starved for jokes, they continue laughing as the bulb blinks off to the side. Wiping away a tear, Monty taps it.] [Workshop] GADGET: [smiling] Golly, they sure seem happy, don't they? FOXGLOVE: Yeah, I guess they're finally adjusting to life on the "limb". [Living Room] DALE: [still laughing] Oh, good one Foxy! CHIP: [offscreen] Oh guys...? [Monterey and Dale turn to look.] [Workshop] [Gadget and Foxglove, looking into the camera, wince.] GADGET: Gee, I guess Chip hasn't quite adjusted yet. FOXGLOVE: Yeah... I wonder if he needs another supply of Prozac? [Living Room] [Chip stands between Monterey and Dale as they grumpily wipe the remains of some Chocolate Creme pie off themselves.] CHIP: [beaming] Not necessary, Foxglove. I feel much better now. [Workshop] FOXGLOVE: Ah, well. Uhm, good! GADGET: Anyway, guys, on to the Inventomercial. This week I decided to aid in the battle against inappropriate material on television these days, the kind that relies on foul language and so-called "adult" situations. It also works, naturally, on the Internet. [Foxglove dashes offscreen, returning with a small, electronic device. A small ship is painted on the front. She attaches it snugly to a cable feed running through the workshop. As Gadget continues, Foxglove models by the device as if on "The Price is Right".] GADGET: So I built this handy little device to sail the airwaves and ether. It can sense naughty things off the bow, and block them accordingly. Note it does not block the entire show or piece or whatever, just the little things that would make a innocent person's ears burn. We've attached it to the cable feed that supplies us with our television and Internet. I call it the "Sensor-Ship". Let's see it in action. [She picks up a remote and clicks it at the screen. The screen flickers and switches to a music video of some rap group.] RAPPER: An' I'm goin' on twos my 'hood an' [CITNOGT] all day! DALE: [V.O.] What's that stand for? GADGET: [V.O.] Censored In The Name Of Good Taste. Let's take the material up a notch. [SFX: Click!] [The screen flickers again, this time landing on "Jerry Springer".] CANDI: And then that [CITNOGT] had the nerve to tell me that I [CITNOGT] , even though the [CITNOGT] knows I'd never even *touch* her [CITNOGT] potholders! GADGET: [V.O.] And now for the ultimate test... [SFX: Click!] [Screen switches to an episode of "South Park".] CARTMAN: You lousy [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] ! I [CITNOGT] would [CITNOGT] you and your [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] mother if [CITNOGT][CITNOGT] I [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] had the [CITNOGT] chance! [SFX: Click!] [Workshop] [Gadget has a proud smile on her face, and Foxglove nods in agreement.] FOXGLOVE: Well, guys? You're up. [Living Room] [Monterey and Dale have both cleaned off by now. Dale stands between Monterey and Chip, trying to look knowledgeable. It's not working.] CHIP: [embarrassed] Uhm. Right. Well, Monterey and I, on the basis that we never thought about it until today, have decided to let Dale handle the invention this week. Again. [He looks worried.] DALE: [grinning] Okay, well, my idea for an invention is based off of my favorite form of research. MONTY: [sighing] Comic books? DALE: Graphic novels! Geez, anyway, in them, haveya ever noticed that all the female superheros are built like a brick acorn jar? It seems kinda discriminatory that the only females allowed to be kickin' superpowered heros need to have perfect bodies. I mean, that's the kind of stuff that should go on at that one restaurant -- what's it called? "Honkers" or something? Anyway, I didn't think it was fair to the rest of the female population that they'd have to give up their powers if they weren't knockouts. CHIP: [looking better] Oh, I see. So, you've developed something to assure equal opportunity in the female superhero workplace? DALE: Even better! [he pulls out a pill] Thanks to the Junior Wizzo Chemistry Set I got last Christmas, I developed this special pill that automatically makes any "homely" superpowered female who takes it to suddenly develop into another supermodel! [Pause.] MONTY: I gotta admit, mate. It's attackin' the problem from a different angle. CHIP: How many do you have? DALE: Just one. I figure there's probably only one person who'll need it. CHIP: Who? DALE: Olive Oyl. [Workshop] GADGET: Well boys, you're getting better. Sort of. Anyway, time for the next phase of your quarantine. It's a piece of Space Ghost fanfiction entitled, "When a Mantis Loves a Woman". We haven't actually read it ourselves, though. No time this week. FOXGLOVE: But we figured, hey, what the heck? It's Space Ghost, so how bad could it be? [They both give blithely unaware smiles as Foxglove reaches offstage to start up the fanfic.] GADGET: We need to go out for groceries, so we'll be back after the story is over, but all of your reactions will be logged, so don't worry. Oh, and we also included a another piece of junk e-mail, just because... well... because we had it, I guess. [Living Room] [Everyone sighs.] MONTY: You're all heart, luv. [under his breath] I have faith soon your reasoning will be as developed. [Buzzers and lights go nuts.] ALL: Ack! It's hurtin' time! [6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1] [Monterey and the 'munks take their seats. Chip is on the left, Monty in the middle, then Dale.] >To: woa7@qnet.com.br >From: woa7@qnet.com.br (mailhost) CHIP: What time is it? DALE: Uhm... seven at qnet. MONTY: So this bloke's name is "Woa"? >Subject: Members: New Low Pricing Plan! >Date: DALE: A type of fruit. Also see; Prince. > Wed, 23 Sep 1998 19:30:06 +0200 > >JUST RELEASED... CHIP: Yes? > > > CHIP: Really? Well that's-- >30,000,000 Email Addresses! Plus 12 Bonuses... [Pause.] CHIP: We waited five minutes for *that*? > > > >Including FREE Stealth 3.0 Bulk EMail Software($399.00 value) > > > MONTY: And also includin' pauses big enough for a semi to pass through. CHIP: This does not look good. >These addresses are less than 21 days old. CHIP: They match the maturity level of "Woa", then. How nice. > > > >EARN INSANE PROFITS WITH THE RIGHT FORMULA DALE: Nimnul is teaching the marketing course? > > > CHIP: If this is supposed to be a dramatic pause, it's not working! >If you have a product, service, or message that you would like to get out > >to Thousands, Hundreds of Thousands, or even Millions DALE: [Stewardess] Thousands, this is Millions, your co-pilot, and that's Hundreds of Thousands, your navigator. My name is Googol. MONTY: If Sesame Street ran an airline.... > of people, you > >have several options. Traditional methods include print advertising, direct > >mail, radio, and MONTY: Mob shakedowns. > television advertising. They are all effective, but they all > >have two catches: They're EXPENSIVE and TIME CONSUMING. Not > >only that, CHIP: They require some modicum of thought to produce. > you only get ONE SHOT at making your message heard, by > >the right people. > > > CHIP: Do you really need to take a deep breath before typing each paragraph? >The INTERNET, the "Global Communications Frontier" has changed > >this dramatically, including making countless individuals wealthy. DALE: ["Woa"] Not that you'll be one of them, though. > >"Electronic Marketing," as it's commonly referred to, DALE: Or "Spam". MONTY: Or "Crud". CHIP: Or "Proof you don't need a brain stem to operate a computer". > has effectively > >leveled the playing fields of all types businesses. MONTY: The crackdown on employee football and soccer games begins. CHIP: ["Woa"] Are you getting all of this? > > > CHIP: ["Woa"] Well?! >Internet Marketing Group has been in the online marketing business > >for over 5 years. DALE: ["Woa"] I'm five years old. > We can help make your goals come true. We have > >helped many individuals succeed in MONTY: Bein' scorned for life. > marketing their product > >effectively. It's very simple to do. In fact soon you will have the > CHIP: Catholic Church praying for lightning strikes on your modem. >problem of what to do with all the cash you will make from sending > >out bulk email. DALE: I'd worry more about the torch-wielding mobs heading for your house. > > > >Here is just one of many true success stories we have seen... > MONTY: Wait for it.... > > MONTY: Wait for it.... >We did a mailing of 1 « million emails for one of our customers. [Everyone gives wild cheering.] > He > >was selling a home workers manual for $29.95. His results are very > >typical and scary. CHIP: So many death threats poured in he was forced to flee town in the middle of the night. > He took in over 700 orders! MONTY: For his head. > 700 x $29.95 = $20,000. > CHIP: Actually, $20,965. After taxes, fines, capital costs, and court fees, though, it was only about fifteen bucks. >This gentleman was so amazed, that after being skeptical, it had > >really happened to him, he made it, he found a niche. DALE: Actually, a rut. > That niche > >was email! He went on to buy our full list and will be set for life in less > >than six months time. CHIP: You mean "sentenced for life". > All this from selling a simple manual via e.mail. CHIP: I thought it was "email" a minute ago? MONTY: Downloadin' next paragraph. Approximate waitin' time: 2 weeks. > > > >That was just one of the many success stories we hear everyday. > >It may all sound to good to be true. Well, DALE: It is. > we can tell you this. It really > >does work. Why else are so many individuals doing it? MONTY: Why did so many people believe that aliens were invadin' when "War of the Worlds" was first broadcast? CHIP: Why did so many civilians go on a picnic lunch at the first battle of Bull Run? DALE: Why did so many people love "Titanic"? > They are not > >just wasting their time. CHIP: They are also making complete nuisances of themselves. > They are all making mega bucks. > > > DALE: Speaking of which, might as well take a "mega break" until "Woa" remembers the next line. >Don't even hesitate on this one or you will miss out on the most > >effective way to market anywhere..PERIOD! CHIP: You don't have to spell out the last period in an ellipsis. > > >HERE'S THE BOTTOM LINE AND WHAT WE CAN DO FOR YOU! > > > DALE: Uh... nothing? CHIP: [sighing] They don't even have the intelligence to hide the fact.... >Here is what you get when you order today! > > > DALE: Three greater-than signs? Oh boy! >>> 30 Million Email Addresses... MONTY: [echoing voice] From the year 5000! > 1 per line in simple text format on a CD. DALE: CDEDBD lines? > >Multiple files of 250,000 or greater (no codes needed to open files). CHIP: Or working brain cells. > >You will receive email addresses of the following domains... AOL, MONTY: Well, I know a fair amount of Internet blokes will chalk it up to slime vs. slime, so that's comfortin' to know. > >PRODIGY, COMPUSERVE, DELPHI, GENIE, JUNO, PIPELINE, > >INTERAMP, MSN, DALE: Mighty Stupid Network? > MCI, CHIP: Many Cables Inoperable? > and 5 MILLION OTHER MIXED EMAIL > >ADDRESSES (.com, .net). DALE: So is that like a mixed bag? CHIP: No, more like you'll be soon "holding the bag". > All names listed above are seperated > >in files by domain name for your convenience. > > > MONTY: ["Woa"] I'll pause so you can write this all down. >PLUS THESE BONUS SPECIALS... > CHIP: Free, unlimited use of capital letters! > > >>> 2 Free Bulk Email Programs...Pegasus and Eudora. You will be able > >to load our names DALE: But none of the others. Just us, 'cause we're *special*! > into these 2 Distribution List Software's (which will > >create Distribution Lists Saving you hours of work) for immediate, > >around the clock MONTY: Annoyance. > launching! You can whip out DALE: [western drawl] Jus' let me whip this out. > as many distribution > >lists as you like, and depending on the speed of your modem and > >the length of your message, CHIP: And the extent of your brain damage. > you will be able to send out around > >10,000 to 30,000 messages per hour for free. > CHIP: It's really not that useful when they're all going to the same address, though. > >>>"Stealth Mass Mailer" Bulk Email. This is the most popular bulk > >emailer in the world. This is the full working verion of the program. CHIP: ["Woa"] As soon as I figure out what "verion" means, I'm sure you'll be impressed. > >This product sends over 250,000 per hour.(Value $399.00) DALE: 250,000 of what per hour? MONTY: Values of up to $399.00? CHIP: So it's an Internet coupon book? > >>>Setup instructions and tips for Stealth Mass Mailer. MONTY: [reading tips] Plug... in... computer... > >>>Free check by fax software! ($299.00 Value) DALE: They send you a check via fax? Is that legal? MONTY: You think these blighters care? > >>>Where to get a FREE web page. > > > CHIP: I really hate to think what "Woa"'s business presentations are like. MONTY: Attendees are advised to bring campin' gear. >>> Super Note Pad... This software will help manage your large text > >files for you. DALE: And organize your flood of well-deserved flames. > > > CHIP: ["Woa"] Wait -- my notecards are missing... hang on, I know they're here somewhere... uhm, uh -- ah! They were holding my place in Watching Paint Dry Weekly. >>> Winzip Self Extractor... This program will be needed when > >de-compressing a compressed file. It will come in handy when > >dealing with files of zip format. > > > DALE: Man -- "Woa" makes that old guy from "Cave Dwellers" look like the spokesman for Micro Machines. >>> Over 5,000 Places To Advertise For Free! > MONTY: Your roommate's bathroom, the sewer of Main and 5th, the underside of a car.... > > >>> "Profits 2500 Series"... 7 manuals that will teach you how to market > >on the Internet and what offers work and which ones to stay clear of. CHIP: Which, naturally, will all be obsolete after you finally finish all 7 of the manuals. > >Also we will show you where to find web designers for free and much, > >much more. DALE: They show you where to find web designers that cost much, much more than free? MONTY: Doesn't sound too impressive. > > > CHIP: Oh come on! It's *not* that hard to have your cue cards ready *before* you start writing! >YOU GET EVERYTHING FOR ONLY $199.00 > MONTY: Except a life. > > >>>>SPECIAL BONUS... If you order within 24 hours you can deduct > >$40.00 from the listed price. Limited time only! > > > DALE: ["Woa"] Okay, limited time's up. >We have previously sold the seven manuals alone for over $400. CHIP: Each?! MONTY: That's a mite expensive for toilet paper. > Now > >you can have the complete package for the low price of only $159.00 CHIP: Well, you'll be scraping the bottom of the barrel, anyway. > > > >Don't even hesitate on this one.. DALE: ["Woa"] Act... quickly... like... us. > Reserve yours today! > > > >All lists are completely free of any Duplicates. We also on a continual > >basis, add New Names and Remove Undeliverables DALE: Remove undesirables? > and Remove > >Requests. > > > CHIP: ["Woa"] We also... teach you how... to speak quick... ly. >The result is the Cleanest Email Addresses Available Anywhere > DALE: Washed daily in new Tide! >to use over and over again, for a FRACTION of the cost that other > >companies charge. Typical rates for acquiring email lists are from > >1 cent to as high as 3 cents per email address - that's > >"INFORMATION HIGHWAY" ROBBERY!. CHIP: You can get sent to jail for doing this, yeah. > > > > How do I protect my e.mail address? MONTY: Have you tried ADT online? > > > >1st of all, send your e.mail with the Stealth Mass Mailer. This program will > >protect your email CHIP: Now it's "email".... > address while sending your e.mail CHIP: And now "e.mail".... > at speeds of up to > DALE: Eight miles per hour! >250,000 messages per hour (28.8 connection). > > > >2nd, collect your inquiries and remove requests via AutoResponders . Using > >AutoResponders, you don't even have to read the flames. CHIP: You'll get burned karmically. > Just move them to > >your remove list and forget about them! MONTY: Don't you have to read them first to know if they're flames? > > > >Start earning mega money and get started now! DALE: So, you should earn the money, then order this thing? CHIP: Sure. You won't get anything using this piece of junk. MONTY: Not countin' flames. > > > >To order our email CHIP: And once more to "email"! What the heck? > package, simply print out the EZ Order form > >below and call us anytime. MONTY: I'm inclined to call you somethin' else.... > > > >We accept Visa ,Mastercard,American Express, Personal Check MONTY: Haven't heard of that last credit card. > >or Money Order. > >---------------------------------------- > >EZ Order Form CHIP: Good, since those filling it out will no doubt have trouble remembering their name. > > > >Call our 24 Hour Order Line at: 1-561-697-0657 (orders only) DALE: I'd like to order a hit on "Woa" please. > > >We will deduct an additional $2.00 for all phone orders. MONTY: So they sell phones, too? > > > >_____Yes! I would like to order your 30,000,000 email addresses DALE: Isn't that a lot of mailboxes for one person to have? > >Plus all the bonuses for only $199.00 > > > >_____I am ordering within 24 Hours! CHIP: Ordering "Woa"'s death, maybe. > Please deduct $40.00 from > >the price making the total only $159.00 > > > CHIP: [annoyed] There are fewer pauses in a grade school play than in this thing! >*Please select one of the following for shipping. MONTY: ["Woa"] Slingshot or catapult? > > > >____I would like to receive CHIP: A brain. > my package EXPRESS(1-2 days). I'm including > DALE: The head of Bill Gates as an offering. >$12 for shipping. > > > >____I would like to receive MONTY: A backbone. > my package PROIRITY (3-4 days). I'm including DALE: My free will. > >$4 for shipping. > > > >____Please add $10.00 for all orders from outside the U.S. CHIP: If you're capable of simple arithmetic. > > > >DATE_____________________________________________________ CHIP: Gadget. DALE: Foxglove. MONTY: Desiree. [Chip and Dale glance at him.] MONTY: Hey, any gal that looks good in a turtleneck is worth considerin'. > > > >NAME____________________________________________________ CHIP: I'm Batman. DALE: My name is Indigo Mantoya. MONTY: G'day mate. I'm Crocodile Dundee! > > > >ADDRESS_________________________________________________ CHIP: Gettysburg, The. DALE: 537 Avian Way. MONTY: Uh, uhm -- aw, shoot! Pass. > > > >CITY, STATE, ZIP__________________________________________ CHIP: Columbus, Ohio -- 45% compressed. DALE: Milwaukee, Wisconsin -- 55% compressed. MONTY: Los Angeles, California -- 1% compressed. > > > >PHONE NUMBER_________________________________________ CHIP: 1-800-HELP-ME DALE: 1-800-KILL-ME MONTY: 1-800-HELP-BY-KILLIN'-ME DALE: How do you dial an apostrophe? MONTY: Er.... > > > >EMAIL ADDRESS__________________________________________ CHIP: Jimmy_Hoffa@Bates-Motel.com DALE: Elvis@Bermuda-Triangle.net MONTY: Neural-Activity@woa7@qnet.com.br > > > >TYPE OF CREDIT CARD: CHIP: My father's. DALE: My company's. MONTY: Michael Eisner's. [Chip and Dale give a low whistle.] > >______VISA _____MASTERCARD____AMERICAN EXPRESS CHIP: Have all condemned this product and will not pay. > > > >CREDIT CARD# __________________________________________ DALE: [singing] eight-six-seven-five-three-oh-niiiineee! > > > >EXPIRATION DATE________________________________________ DALE: [sadly] That's when she's really getting tired of your bad jokes. CHIP: That's "exasperated", Dale. > > > >NAME ON CARD__________________________________________ DALE: Of course your name is on the credit card. Kinda a stupid observation. > > > >AMOUNT $___________________ MONTY: That's how much you'll make if you actually try this crud. > > > >SIGNATURE:x________________________ CHIP: Well, that "x" takes care of most of the people who would sign up for this. > > > >DATE:x__________________ DALE: Man, this thing's had more dates than Monty! MONTY: What?! > >---------------------------------------------------- CHIP: Great. Now "Woa" is trying to give us an emergency broadcasting tone. > >Best of Luck!! MONTY: Drop dead. > > > >We apologize if this e.mail was sent to you in error. CHIP: ["Woa"] The e-mail/email, we sent, however, is your own problem. > > > >To be permanently removed from all mailing lists simply MONTY: Torch your computer. > >go to DALE: Jail. Do not pass go. > http://www.remove-list.com > > > >Thank You! CHIP: Yeah, whatever -- just go! > > > DALE: Uhm, has he left? CHIP: I don't... know. > > > > DALE: Wait! I think I see him! He's hovering over there. Looks like he's in thought. MONTY: Swell. Hunker down, mates, this could take a while. > > > > > [Everyone waits patiently. Chip pulls out a book and starts reading, Dale takes some string and works on a cat's cradle, while Monterey pulls out some needlepoint.] > > > > > > > [Monterey looks up, then nudges the chipmunks.] MONTY: Finally! He's headed back mates. CHIP: Hmm? Oh, well, at least I finished a few more chapters. [They put their various things away and try to look interested. They fail.] >Thank You! [Pause.] ALL: What?! CHIP: That was *it*? DALE: Geez, his brain works even less than mine! [Pause] Wait.... > >#u! MONTY: Same to you, you blighter! > > > > CHIP: This had better not be a precursor to another paragraph... DALE: No, it looks clear. [The screen flickers as the main story is loaded up.] MONTY: And now our feature presentation. CHIP: Featuring some intelligence for a change, I hope. >Warning - this story is for mature audiences only. CHIP: Well, that blocks Dale. DALE: Hey! > Well, >people old enough to read dirty stories, anyway. MONTY: It's hard to read stories that are caked in dirt, though, no matter what age you are. > 'Cause this >is one of them. CHIP: You have an aversion to using soap? > >***** > > When a Mantis Loves a Woman DALE: Hey! This could star Olive Oyl! I'm glad I made that pill.... MONTY: As which one, though? CHIP: With her figure, either. > By KYM > > > "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Zorak growled. > The Phanton Cruiser MONTY: The "Phanton" Cruiser? CHIP: Only the second line and we hit a spelling bump. Not good. > streaked through space just above the >speed of light. Or just below it. Whatever. DALE: It was doing Mach 0.00000000001! > It still wasn't >fast enough for Zorak. He was in a *hurry*. DALE: That sale at Sears would be over in an hour! > "C'MON!" he snarled. > He clutched the steering control in one bony-looking hand, >and with one clawlike foot had the pedal rammed quite firmly to >the metal. ALL: [singing] Go Speed Mantis, go Speed Mantis, go Speed Mantis go! > He stared out the spaceship's windshield, MONTY: Easily amused. > ignoring >the small space-living piranha mites that occasionally smeared CHIP: Graffiti on the overpasses. DALE: Hey, it's a valid form of literature! >themselves across his field of vision before being scoured off >by interstellar dust. He didn't look at the navigational >instruments. MONTY: Xylophones made of maps frightened him. > He knew where he was going. During mating >season, any mantis who wasn't a drone knew exactly where to go, DALE: [singing] And we're headin' on down to the love shack! CHIP: Er... but drones are males, like in bee and ant colonies, so wouldn't that make Zorak a drone, and thus have no clue where he's going? MONTY: Considerin' it's Zorak, it's not surprisin'. >the same way a compass knew how to point north. DALE: So if you have a magnet near a mantis, it gets lost, too? > > A sonic boom tore through the sky. Thousands of mantis >heads turned to look at the flaming meteor streaking out of the >sky at a low angle. CHIP: Suddenly, it's "Deep Impact". MONTY: Or "Armageddon". DALE: Or "Pod People". > Thousands more did not bother; they were >too busy at the moment. DALE: "Oprah" was on. > The meteor slowed, CHIP: Signaled, and turned left. > and the plasma flames peeled back to >reveal a singed yellow spaceship. DALE: "Peeled"? "Yellow"? So it's a space lemon? > It touched down, then >skidded across the landscape, leaving a burning furrow of earth >fused into rock behind itself. It finally came to a stop >against a rocky outcrop. MONTY: Oh big deal. We did *that* with the Space Plane! > If it hadn't been for the ship's artificial gravity field, >Zorak would have had one vicious case of whiplash. CHIP: As it was, he only suffered from a severed head. > He punched >the canopy release, DALE: Which punched back. > and ignored the waves of heat that came >rushing in. When he grasped the side of the ship to jump out, >he screamed. Heat intense enough to melt rock could penetrate >a pair of thin gloves quite quickly. CHIP: Maybe Zorak would feel better if he took his hand off the side, then. > He was not going to let that stop him. MONTY: Why worry? He has another hand. > He had talked >Space Ghost into giving him the keys to the Phantom Cruiser, CHIP: Any time now, Zorak.... >and he had crossed interstellar space in a ship he had only a >vague notion of how to drive. DALE: [sizzling sounds] > He'd jump through hoops of fire >during mating season - and, come to think of it, that wasn't MONTY: An unusual request durin' the season. >far from the task at hand. CHIP: Speaking of which, seeing as how his hand has now been burned to a crisp, he didn't feel any more pain! > He crouched down on long, thin, sticklike limbs, CHIP: Not his own, of course. > then >bounded over the side, clearing the hot metal. He landed >unskillfully in sandy dirt, which tasted like, well, sandy >dirt. MONTY: Zorak guessed it was from a vintage season. Maybe 1974. > He spat as he got back to his feet and brushed his vest >and exoskeleton clean. DALE: He'd gas the Cruiser up later at a "Shell" station. Hah! CHIP: You're off to an early start.... > He was home! > > He was home. MONTY: There was an echo. > The problem was, he'd been away from home so long - over >thirty years - that he hardly knew what to do with himself, let >alone anyone else. DALE: Doesn't everyone have this problem returning to the old homestead for family reunions? > He'd been captured by Space Ghost before >his first mating season, and thus had spent every single one, >every seven years, in jail. MONTY: It was a handy excuse. > He had lost a lot of roommates >that way. DALE: Not as many as from his obsession with Hanson, though. > And he had no real experience under his belt, so to >speak. > "Ah, [CITNOGT] DALE: [surprised] Whoops. CHIP: Looks like Gadget forgot to turn off the Sensor Ship. >it," he muttered. The city he had landed must >have a bar or something. DALE: He doesn't know how to fly the Phantom Cruiser and now he's landing whole cities?! MONTY: Must work for Delta. > He hustled into town. CHIP: He was home. > Ah, civilization. MONTY: Or somethin' that would pass for it if you were bombed out of your skull. > The scent of other mantises, now CHIP: Sauteed in a white wine sauce. >flavored by mating pheromones. DALE: Grape, cinnamon, and chicken. > He saw no drones about, but DALE: He saw others droning on. >then they always hid out during mating season. Unsexed >mantises didn't participate in mating season, they just MONTY: Declared marshal law. > waited >until the madness was over with, and came out to DALE: Spread the pheromone scent around to start it all up again. They're kooky that way. > see who had >been devoured and who hadn't. Come to think of it, he didn't >see any bits of exoskeleton or partly-devoured bodies about. CHIP: The janitorial staff was on the ball this year. >Good, it was still early in the season. DALE: I wonder if Zorak needs to renew his license this season? > The pheromone scent drew him to one establishment. MONTY: A spice shop? > A bar, >of course. He entered. DALE: Hot, scene-setting action! > The place was dark, and surprisingly >uncrowded. A few mantises glared at him with hunters' eyes, CHIP: Others used their own. >then looked away, dismissing him. The drone tending bar kept a >hand on a stun pistol, MONTY: The other was on his hip flask. > in case anyone started a duel over a >female - or a couple of females started fighting just for the [CITNOGT] DALE: There it goes again. CHIP: Relax. A few words blocked out isn't going to hurt us. >of it - or a newly paired couple decided not to bother >with finding a room. MONTY: Doors are hard to figure out. > Things got crazy during mating season. DALE: [clown voice] It's that wacky time of year again! > Zorak's heart, for once, was not set on violence. MONTY: It was set on cruise control. > There >were a few females here. One, a small olive colored mantis, CHIP: What's the color of a small olive? DALE: Uhm, an olive-color that's small? CHIP: Nevermind. >was only a few feet away from him, and she seemed to be waiting >for him to say something. MONTY: Bein' a well-trained female, she only spoke when spoken to. > He hesitated for a second, then DALE: Did his impression of a rabid St. Bernard. MONTY: It went over well at parties. >said, "If I said you had a beautiful exoskeleton, would you DALE: [Zorak] Beat me senseless? >hold it against me?" > She laughed in his face. CHIP: He was home. > " [CITNOGT] >," he observed to himself as she turned away to hunt >for a glibber mate. MONTY: You know, I may have to stop callin' everyone "mate" after this yarn. > That had to be the all-time stupidest >pick-up lines in the entire universe! DALE: Hey, she seemed to enjoy it; she laughed. > He'd been around Space >Ghost too long; lameness was catching. CHIP: He was animated by Hanna-Barbara; lameness was inherit. > He looked around. Another mantis was entering. All of >the mantises in the bar turned to look. DALE: You think it's the one from "The Deadly Mantis"? CHIP: She said "entering", not "pulverizing". > She was pale green. MONTY: So give her some Pepto-Bismol. > Her forearms were equipped with DALE: Twin rocket launchers! CHIP: Dual air bags! MONTY: Bottles of Cheez-Wiz! >wicked spines. DALE: Whose spines? CHIP: Ewww.... MONTY: Her last boyfriend was the Predator. > She had stylish black hair, and wore a tight >top, short skirt, and high-heeled go-go boots. CHIP: Yeah, you don't want that flat, featureless shell of an exoskeleton to be exposed in public. MONTY: Since when do mantises have hair? CHIP: Since when do mice have hair? MONTY: Question withdrawn, yer honor. > She was what >was known in technical terms as a knockout. MONTY: You know, when you're talkin' 'bout female mantises, "waxin' the bikini area" takes on a new meanin'. > She looked about. Her eyes met Zorak's. She ambled over >to the bar as he stared at her like a deer caught in the glare >of an oncoming truck's headlights. She paused, waiting for him >to say something. DALE: Boy! All the females on this planet are well-trained, aren't they? CHIP: Do they bark on command and sit when you tell them to, as well, KYM? > He seemed to have his hands full with >remembering how to breathe. She blinked seductively at him. DALE: [female mantis] I have eyelids. > More out of reflex than anything else, he blinked back. MONTY: [Zorak] Me too. > She blinked twice. DALE: [female mantis] I *really* have eyelids. > He blinked twice. MONTY: [Zorak] Me *really* too. > She blinked three times. CHIP: Romance second only to dime paperbacks. > His brain finally catching up with what was happening, he DALE: Lent her his Clear Eyes eyedrops. >blinked four times. > The bartender watched as the pair in front of him began >blinking like mad. If he had been a romantic, this would have MONTY: Put him to sleep. >been touching. But, being a drone, he didn't give a flip, so >long as they left the place without making a mess. CHIP: Mantises are so hard to housebreak these days. > Zorak asked, "Do you like walks in the rain?" > "Oh, yes!" she agreed. > "And Elizabeth Barrett Browning's sonnets from the >Portuguese?" Zorak continued, more confidently. DALE: Wasn't this a lost verse from "Piña Colada"? > She replied, "How did you know?" > "I know *things* about you," DALE: [Mike Nelson] Oh no! Not *things*! > he replied with something >approximating suaveness. MONTY: But closer to dweebness. > "You're the most exciting mantis I've ever met," she >informed him. CHIP: What was that earlier about lame pick-up lines? > "I want to spend the rest of my life with you!" Zorak >declared. > "And so you shall!" she answered. CHIP: Recite stiff dialogue like this? > The bartender watched as she led him out the door of the >bar. He shook his head. CHIP: The brain within rattled nosily. DALE: The message in his eyes read, "Cannot tell now. Ask again later." > The rest of his life indeed. That's >probably be all of a half hour. > > She brought him to her nest, one of a thousand others in a >hivelike building. CHIP: The building contractors used pest strips for carpeting, so it's hard to leave before the lease is up. > Zorak had, after a few attempts, given up >on making small talk. He was no good at it, DALE: [Zorak] Hey, you got one of those Craftsmatic adjustable perching sticks... neat. > and it wasn't >necessary anyway. His mind was a blur. MONTY: The focal length of the lens was too short. > In the back of his >mind he knew what his fate would be, but the who-gives-a- [CITNOGT] >mating instinct was too strong. > "Do you have a collar?" she asked him, CHIP: I'd be more worried if he's had his shots. > smiling as she >undid the fastens of her belt and slipped off her wing covers. DALE: Oh, she's just *winging* it here! > "A collar?" he replied stupidly. > "A mating collar. To protect your neck." She stroked his >thin neck with one hand, startling him. MONTY: [Zorak] I have a neck?! Oh my God! Does mother know? > "You must have found >some way to survive all these years. You're no first-time >kid." CHIP: [female mantis] Unless you were in jail the whole time. > "I sure am not!" he said, fighting back embarrassment. > She did not seem to notice how flustered he was. She DALE: Was watching "Password" on television. >continued removing her clothes unhurriedly, making a simple >disrobing into a striptease. With every step she revealed more >hard, shiny, smooth, green exoskeleton. CHIP: This is supposed to be arousing? DALE: Maybe for that doctor that thought a wasp was more arousing than a Woo-Woo Girl. MONTY: I bet Zorak gets excited whenever someone unwraps a new metal trash can. > She stopped before she >removed her skirt. Grinning at him, she said, "Do you need >help?" CHIP: Mental help. > "Uh, no!" he exclaimed. He had been practically >hypnotized. Lust and nervousness and reached an equilibrium, MONTY: Much like the one of boredom and disgust felt by the readers. >which she proceeded to upset by reaching over to the fastens of >his vest. He beat her to it, ripping the tabs DALE: Off of mattresses everywhere. MONTY: The vile lawbreaker! > at the sides >which held his vest to his wing coverings. Clumsily he pulled >it over his head. CHIP: [Zorak] I've been wearing the same thing since 1967. Don't mind the smell. > He then began tugging on his lower garment, DALE: [puzzled] He was wearing leg warmers? >which in the past few minutes had become rather uncomfortable. >She waited patiently, grinning in amusement. DALE: "Make Me Laugh" was on now. > When he had succeeded in freeing himself she wrapped her >long arms around him, CHIP: Then tied it up with ribbons and tape, and placed it under the tree with the rest of the Christmas gifts. > scratching her forearm spines along his >sides and wings. She clamped her mandibles around his beak. MONTY: Snappin' it like a day-old breadstick. >He did not try to break free; DALE: God, this had better not be a "TK" story! Those are just *too* weird! > he was too busy trying to aim >himself. DALE: So when did he climb into a cannon? CHIP: His wings don't work that well, I guess. Needs a push. MONTY: Wimp. > The skirt was distracting him. CHIP: More like the *script* was distracting him. > She reached down with >one hand and slipped [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] CHIP: Whoa. DALE: That was weird. MONTY: I wonder why it blocked that much? > He groaned. DALE: It's just plain bad when even the characters groan about the story they're in. > She raised one leg and wrapped it around his >back to give him a better angle. CHIP: [female mantis] See? Now to figure out the hypotenuse.... > She tried to spread her >wings, but his hands were on her wing shell. DALE: Thou "shell" not spread thy wings-- [Chip reaches over and bops Dale several times.] DALE: OWowowowow! Okay! Geez, grouch. > She pried them >loose, then spread her wings MONTY: On the toast for high tea. > and started beating them MONTY: For not havin' supper ready. > in the >air, setting up a CHIP: Frequency which would allow her to pirate satellite TV. > vibration through her body. Her exoskeleton >buzzed against his. CHIP: Gas-powered exoskeletons? > The sensation was indescribable. CHIP: "Nauseating" works pretty well. > The firm grip of her >body [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] > intensified the vibration to the point CHIP: That it shook the building apart, collapsing it in on them. >that it sent waves throughout his entire body. He could feel >every thrust from his antennae to his toes. DALE: [utterly confused] Why was his antennae thrusting to his toes? CHIP: [starting to worry] At this moment, I think ignorance is bliss. > Her forearm spines >scraped against his sides. DALE: That's rude. She didn't even take off her jewelry from her old boyfriend! > Her leg held him tightly to >herself, so he could only draw back an inch for [CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >which all things considered was for the best. MONTY: [disturbed] My thoughts exactly. > He jerked his head back, trying to pull his beak free from >her grip. She fought to keep her place, but he managed to jerk CHIP: The bookmark away and slam the novel shut! MONTY: Oh, cruel.... >away. She tried to catch his beak again, but he held his head >high, DALE: [singing] Lift your head up high, and blow your brains out! CHIP: At least with Zorak there's not much to make a mess. > just out of her grasp. So she fastened her mandibles >around his thin, vulnerable throat. MONTY: So he works hard to expose his neck so she can tear it out easier? CHIP: Natural genetic-pool cleansing in action. > He stiffened, eyes wide, heart pounding, close to panic. DALE: He had forgotten to study for that big Geography test today! >She began to clamp down on his neck. All of his muscles >tightened. He closed his eyes and let out a strangled cry as [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] CHIP: My, yet another busy line. MONTY: Makes you wonder a mite, eh? DALE: [shaking head, afraid] I don't wanna. > When he regained control of his body, he jerked backward, >away from her, his wings spread and his head thrust forward, MONTY: Imitating' an irate mosquito. >prepared for battle. Surprisingly, she did not mirror his >stance. CHIP: She inverted it? > She stood there calmly, with that amused grin on her >beak. MONTY: It must be pasted on. CHIP: Well, it's the only expression she's shown thus far. > Zorak knew how to fight, but not how to back down. DALE: [Tor Johnson] Tor no back down. > Why >wasn't she cooperating?! She said, "No need for that, I've >already eaten." > The meaning sank into Zorak's head. CHIP: *That's* why she wanted to stop by McDonald's on the way over! > She could easily have >bitten through his neck. That was what she was supposed to do! >Or at least give it a good try! MONTY: By gum! > She watched fear and confusion flicker across his face. >She said, "I'm not interested in killing you. If I was, I >would have already done it. You're not my first this season." DALE: He's not the first mantis she's killed this season? CHIP: Doesn't do a very good job, does she? > So that was it. She'd eaten her previous mate. Lucky for >him. But why was she still on the market, then? MONTY: Her expiration date was still two weeks away. > Did he really give a [CITNOGT] > Then he realized something that he hadn't noticed before. CHIP: There was no point to this story other than gratuitous bedroom scenes! >Her clothes had camouflaged her, and by the time she had them >off he was too blinded by CHIP: Stupidity? > lust CHIP: Same thing. > to realize it. But now that he >could take a good look at her - those narrow hips, that too- >slender frame - "You're DALE: [Zorak] Kate Moss! > a DRONE!" he sputtered. > "Yes." DALE: She's male?!? > He shrieked in outrage and leapt at her, forearms raised >to bare the spikes, his serrated beak wide open and aimed for >her head. MONTY: [Zorak] How *dare* you agree with me! > She fell back on her back, CHIP: Rather than falling back on her front? Oh, dramatic! > and drew a leg up >quickly. DALE: How does doing a rapid sketch help? > When he leapt onto her she kicked him back across the >room. MONTY: [wistfully] Now these are more like the dates I had. [Dale starts to ask a question, only to have Chip clamp his hand over Dale's mouth.] CHIP: Don't ask. > He smacked into the opposite wall. As he recovered his >balance she slapped a pocket in her skirt. MONTY: [female mantis] Fresh! > He came at her >again, intent on murder. DALE: Sounds like he's "shell" shocked. Heh! [Chip grumbles something, while Monterey just shrugs.] > He was on top of her, snapping at her >neck, when the rush of pheromone perfume from the sack in her >skirt pocket hit him. MONTY: Like a pound of Limburger. DALE: [Zorak] Phew! What'd you have for lunch; beans and broccoli? > He continued wrestling with her, but he was no longer >intent on her neck. CHIP: [Zorak] I'd need a nutcracker to get any sensation through her exoskeleton. > His attention was focused much lower down. CHIP: [Zorak] Is this tile floor from Home Depot? I like the caulking. >When she saw that he was trying to get into position, she [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] > welcoming him. He entered her MONTY: Checked in, signed the registry, and watched some television. > with a quick >thrust. She raised her hips, pressing up against him. He had CHIP: No clue what was going on, which is something we'd like to stick to. >forgotten the attack; his eyes were closed, and he wore that >familiar, slightly stupid expression she had seen so many >times. CHIP: Every time she went to a Star Trek convention. DALE: Hey! > She slipped her thin fingers up under his wings, >stroking the sensitive, thinly armored surface of his back. CHIP: Being as there are no nerve endings in the exoskeleton, however, it would have been more sensual if she had used a jackhammer. > He kept slipping MONTY: On her greasy floor, threatenin' to sue. > free in his enthusiasm. He was able to >get back in place easily enough, though. DALE: [Zorak] Welp, time for me to fly, so back into the cannon. > She arched her neck >over his shoulder and rubbed her lower mandible against his >wing coverings as he MONTY: Basted 'em lightly over the stove for five minutes. [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >If he was baring his >neck to her, he was too far gone to worry about, so she could >let down her guard and enjoy the moment. DALE: Uhm... nah, I'm not even going to bother and try to figure that line out. > Every nerve in her >body was screaming pleasure CHIP: [nerves] Pleasure! Pleasure! We want pleasure, not this disgusting feeling of degradation you keep forcing on us! > as [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >shaking her, his hard exoskeleton clacking against hers. CHIP: Exoskeletons hard enough to clack, yet soft enough to be sensitive to the touch. > His >grunts blended with her soft cries as his body mixed with hers. MONTY: Take one male mantis, one female drone, one cup antacid, and assorted cries for help and grunts of nausea. Mix well. [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] DALE: Yikes! CHIP: Okay. I'm officially disturbed beyond my initial estimate. > When she pulled >her head back to study him, he wore a dazed expression. She >smiled and continued stroking under his wing covers. > His wits returned more slowly this time. CHIP: They were never there to begin with. > He didn't say >anything. Drone or not, he did not feel like fighting her. DALE: [Zorak] Can't we all just get along? > He >didn't feel like doing anything. If she wanted to kill him, he >would be easy prey now. DALE: I have a hunch "easy" is term she's quite familiar with. CHIP: Dale, I thought I told you to quit talking to that crow. [Dale shrugs.] > After a few minutes she withdrew her hands from under his >wings. MONTY: Pullin' his spine out to add to her collection-- > "Get up," she said softly. > He obeyed, raising himself to his hands and knees, then >standing a trifle unsteadily. She got up and left the room, MONTY: Throwin' up in the bathroom. >then returned with a thin-necked bottle, its opening just small >enough to fit into a pair of mandibles. She took a drink, then >handed it to him, saying, "That always makes me thirsty." CHIP: Drinking makes her thirsty? > "Yeah." He took it and sipped a fluid that tasted >pleasantly of MONTY: Turtle Wax. > hemoglobin. When she took it by the word burst >out of him, CHIP: [Zorak] Erythrocytometer. Whew, glad to get that off my chest. > "Why?" DALE: [singing] M, C A! > "Why does a drone join in mating season?" she replied >after taking another drink. DALE: [Zorak] Oh, fine, I'll bite; why does a drone join in mating season? > "Yeah." > She handed the bottle back to him. "For drones sex is an >acquired taste, DALE: Sorta like "lemons". > but some of us do acquire it," she said with a >smile. CHIP: [female mantis/slut] Some of us acquire stocks and bonds. > "Females, anyway. But we don't have instincts as >strong as full females, MONTY: [female mantis/slut] Or even half females. > so we have to learn. DALE: [female mantis/slut] One day we hope to get it right. > And we don't have >quite as strong an urge to devour our mates. Especially if we >eat beforehand." MONTY: Shouldn't you wait at least 20 minutes after eatin' before matin'? > Zorak mutely took another drink, wishing that the beverage DALE: Wasn't frozen solid. Hard to drink when it's like that. >were something of high alcohol content instead. She continued, >"You know how silly it looks to drones, that you males DALE: [female mantis/slut] Argue over whether to watch football or golf? >willingly die just for sex? Some of us do something about >that." MONTY: [female mantis/slut] We just kill you all off for no reason. > "So you lure unsuspecting-" CHIP: Dorks. > She cut him off. "Exactly. Would you rather be *dead*?" >she asked, looking him steadily in the eyes. MONTY: [female mantis/slut] I can arrange that. > He looked away. He'd rather be dead than admit to mating >with a drone. There were words for people who did that, CHIP: But none for insects, so he was in the clear. >repulsive words for a repulsive act. Drone-lover was a >favorite childhood taunt, one which could stigmatize a mantis. CHIP: How, you may ask? Who cares! > She had a pretty good idea of what he was thinking. MONTY: [female mantis/slut] Everythin's doughnuts to you men, isn't it? > She'd >been through this exact scene many times now; it was >practically a script. CHIP: Well, that explains the lack of emotion she's showing. > "Besides," she said lightly, "No matter >what *I* am, you have to admit that it *is* fun." She stroked >long fingers down her abdomen suggestively. CHIP: She's suggesting what? That she's segmented? DALE: Maybe she's trying to play a tune over her shell, like a washboard. > But her hips were too narrow, [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >Any mantis who hadn't been offplanet for the last thirty years >would have known what she was as soon as he touched her. DALE: So she's only mated with guys who have been off planet for thirty years? Boy, there's a lot more of those than I thought. > A >perverted drone. "Well..." he said gruffly, "I'd better get >going-" MONTY: [Zorak] I have to throw up, myself. > "And find a *real* female?" she said, blocking him with >one long, thin arm. DALE: Whoa! This thing has just taken a turn for the weird! > "And get devoured? I don't like to waste >my time." CHIP: So quit playing Quake. > She grinned wickedly at him as she reached into a >pocket in her purse. CHIP: [female mantis/slut] Have I shown you pictures of my trip to the Tar Pits? > She brought out a small plastic sac that >had been ruptured. DALE: Her rubber bands for her braces? > A few drops of pheromone perfume still >clung to the inside. CHIP: I bet the perfume smells like Behold. MONTY: [Zorak] Furniture polish... oh baby.... > She moistened her fingers, then drew them >across her body, releasing the scent. He came quickly to >attention. She smiled a predatory grin. CHIP: As an insect, how does she grin without teeth? > "I'm going to *suck >you dry*." CHIP: Oh, they must've gotten married, and now she's divorcing him. MONTY: Well, somethin' sucks about this, anyway. > Zorak's protest died before it reached his beak. She set >the bottle aside. With one hand on his chest, she pushed him >gently over to the couch. [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >guide him [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >her weight [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >revealed [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >her mercy. [Smoke begins to seep out of the screen.] DALE: [worried] What's happening? CHIP: [concerned] I don't know, but it doesn't look good. [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >her wings [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] >back, [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] MONTY: It's overloadin'! CHIP: Take cover! [They all dive over the back of the couch, taking cover below the screen.] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [Smoke billows forth while the sounds of electric circuits frying reach a crescendo.] DALE: [V.O.] Oh man, here we go! [A huge explosion takes place, electrical sparks and smoke filling the screen. It blocks out everything, while loud crashes and thuds can be heard sporadically in the background. After a few moments, the smoke clears up.] CHIP: [from under his seat] Is everyone okay? MONTY: [likewise] Yeah, yeah, I think so. DALE: [ditto] Oh man, that was close. [The T.V. is still functioning, actually, and the story continues to progress, with an occasional spark flying from the side every now and then.] > He opened his eyes to see her looking down at him. She >touched the end of her beak to his, then got up. He sat up. >His mind felt numbed. She brought the bottle back. Quietly >they passed it back and forth, each taking a sip before handing >it to the other. [They trio shakily climb back into their seats.] DALE: Do you think the Sensor Ship survived? CHIP: Since the story pushed it to its limits, let's hope so. I don't think we'd survive with proper safety precautions. > He looks docile, she thought. His knife's been dulled. >Not long ago he would have killed her if he could; now he >didn't seem to care one way or the other. MONTY: Good God, the Apathetic Four must be nearby! > That's just about >right. DALE: Ack! KYM admits it! > As he was drinking she discreetly squeezed a pheromone >perfume sac in another pocket of her skirt. He noticed it, all >right. CHIP: This one gave him the uncontrollable urge to wash her dishes. > She reached over and touched his neck with her >fingertips, then drew her hand down his body. MONTY: Now she's a tattoo artist? > He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and >reached over tentatively slipped his fingertips under her wing. DALE: [Zorak] I think I dropped some change back here. > After a minute she said, "I've wrung you dry." MONTY: [female mantis/slut] Might as well kill you. > "Yeah," he said, not sounding entirely pleased about it. DALE: [Zorak] I really don't like being killed. Brings me down. CHIP: Yeah; six feet to be precise. > "Three times is two more than most get," she commented >lightly. MONTY: [female mantis/slut] And Five is two more than three. Ain't I smart? > He got up. Irrationally, he felt embarrassed. "I'd >better get going." CHIP: [Zorak] I *really* have to throw up now. > "All right," she answered. She stood. He gathered his >garments and put them on. MONTY: Rivetin', non-stop action! > She helped him align his wing >coverings, but did not put her own clothes on. CHIP: Why bother? There's nothing there to show. MONTY: Maybe she's plannin' on shinin' up herself after he leaves. Get the scuff marks out. > Before leaving, he turned back and asked, "Who are you?" CHIP: [Zorak] Now that we've already exchanged our DNA. > "Zingor." > "Zingor," he repeated softly to himself. CHIP: [whispering] Rosebud.... > He did not realize that she had never asked what his name >was. DALE: Like she cared. > > The Phantom Cruiser was still slumped in the rut it had >dug for itself. MONTY: [Phantom Cruiser] I drink too much because I'm depressed. I'm depressed because I drink too much. > It had cooled down, so it was no longer hot to >the touch. "You and me both, pal." Zorak muttered as he >climbed onto the wing, and then into the cockpit. DALE: [canopy opening] Now, you're not going to punch me again, right? > After closing the canopy he studied the controls. MONTY: [Zorak] Hmm. Yep. They're still here. > There >had to be a reverse gear somewhere on this stupid thing. > After some fiddling, the ship CHIP: Danced an Irish jig. > lifted off vertically, >scraping the [CITNOGT] >out of the nose in the process. DALE: [impressed] Hey, it still works! MONTY: Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. > That was >just fine by Zorak. He didn't much care if he messed up Space >Ghost's - MONTY: Wax finish? CHIP: Paint job? DALE: Marvin the Martian bumper sticker? > Oh, crud. There'd be questions to answer when he got >back. CHIP: Mostly concerning what he smuggled back in the trunk. > Humans were nosey about things like that. DALE: Yeah, they all just have to hear about the mating rituals of giant bugs. > He'd have to >make up something. Any lie would be better than admitting what >had really happened. DALE: [Zorak] I mated. MONTY: [Space Ghost] EWWWWWW! > The ship rose into the sky and disappeared from view. > >***** DALE: Is that the exhaust? > >This story is copyright by KYM. All characters are copyright >by Cartoon Network and/or Hanna-Barbara. CHIP: The plot isn't copyrighted by anyone, as there is none to copyright. > This story was based >on "Urges", an episode of "Space Ghost Coast to Coast" which >was co-written by Joel Hodges. DALE: The name's familiar, but I just can't place it.... > This story is not meant to >insult the characters; it was written in the spirit of MONTY: Pervertedness? >goofiness, and hopefully I haven't MiST my mark. ;) [Pause.] DALE: You... you don't suppose....? CHIP: No... no, I don't think so. I hope not, at least. > Oh, >and a tip o' the hat to Mike "The Transcriptinator" Shawaluk, >for saving me the trouble of hauling out my videotape for a >certain scene. MONTY: So, should we blame him? DALE: Nah, I think KYM was going to write this up no matter what. Maybe this an expression of her attempts to deal with a symbolic experience. MONTY: Uh, no. Let's just get outta here. DALE: Yeah, I don't think I'll be able to drink lemonade again for a long while. CHIP: Why? DALE: Uhm... dunno, really. [They leave the T.V. Chamber.] [1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5 ... 6] [Living Room] CHIP: Well, that was a bizarre encounter. DALE: I dunno. I think it was kinda gross in a way. I mean, KYM was writing about insects who were getting real close. Who knows what was going on behind the Sensor Ship? [he looks nervous] MONTY: Look, mat-- er, bucko. Just be glad the Sensor Ship *was* on. I'd rather not dwell on the possibilities anymore. CHIP: He's right, Dale. I'll send a note to the gals and let them know that they really should read through everything they send us. I mean, otherwise, your already weakened state of mind will be in serious jeopardy. DALE: Hey, watch it, buddy, or your *physical* state of health will be in serious jeopardy! [The red bulb begins to blink.] MONTY: [happy to interrupt] Oh, look! The gals are callin'! Whew.... [Workshop] [Gadget and Foxglove are busy unpacking groceries.] FOXGLOVE: Oh, heya guys. Hey listen, we just got back, but we wanted to know what happened to the Sensor Ship. GADGET: Yeah, it was all burned out when we came in. Smoke coming out all over the place... any idea as to what caused it? [Living Room] CHIP: Heh heh... yes. Yes, absolutely. [Workshop] GADGET: Oh, golly, good. Give me a report, will you? [she turns to Foxglove] Would you switch on the television, Foxglove? I want to see "Talking To Your Tools" while we unpack here. FOXGLOVE: Sure thing! [She heads offscreen, a *click* is heard as the television is turned on, which happens to still be on "South Park".] CARTMAN: [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT][CITNOGT] [This time the explosion is sudden and takes out the entire workshop, apparently, as the screen goes to black.] GADGET: [V.O.] ...Oopsie. FOXGLOVE: [V.O.; cheerfully] It's a good thing I can use echolocation to find the button.... -- FWOOSH! -- [Even though it's hard to tell the difference....] Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and [c] copyright 199X by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. Chip, Dale, Monterey Jack, Gadget, Zipper, and Foxglove are owned by Disney. The original story is [c] by KYM. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. or anyone else is intended or should be inferred. This is not, in any way, shape, or form, a personal attack on KYM, even though mantis lemonade is a tad too sour for my tastes. Thanks to Jen White for "finding" this one for me, and John Nowak for proofreading it. Send any comments and questions to MattBat@ix.netcom.com This MiSTing is [c] copyright 1998 by Matt Plotecher. Insert gratuitous joke about the story "sucking lemons" here. > "I know *things* about you," he replied with something >approximating suaveness.