[JOEL and the BOTS enter and take their seats.] >Chapter Twenty-two : "I Have Met The Enemy And I Am Her." TOM: Profound or just plain silly? You decide! > >There aren't many trees near most airports, CROW: All landscapers are shot on sight. > but under one of the rare >ones were two mouse sized graves. Widget was staring at them, trying to >understand what she was feeling. JOEL: This strange feeling called "happiness" was forming again.... > She had never resented her mother; TOM: Much. >sometimes she even imagined that her mother would have kept her father >from abandoning her. It was dark, TOM: In the Nowakverse. > and the graves were a little hard to >see, but CROW: The infrared scope on her grenade launcher lit them up nicely. > they were there, they were together, and while logically >Widget knew they were only old holes, she couldn't escape the sense her >mother was happy to be with her father. CROW: [SARAH] We're dead! We're dead! We're not trapped in this imperfection of the universe called "life"! Whoo-hoo, party! > >"Mom, Dad," Gadget said. "You'll be happy to know Widget didn't die. >She's here, and I think ... there's a lot to like about her." TOM: If you overlook her homicidal tendencies. > >"Uh..." Widget swallowed nervously. "Hi. Gadget, can I be alone?" JOEL: [WIDGET] I'd like to plant this thermonuclear device in privacy. > >"Sure," her sister said. "Dad and I used to live in that B-25 fuselage >over there. CROW: [GADGET] It was really uncomfortable until they stopped using it. > If you come in, be careful of the deadfall traps." JOEL: Deadfall traps? TOM: They're canonical. JOEL: You're kidding. > >She turned and walked through the grass, towards the old bomber that >had been her home when she was young. TOM: And is now the home for the famous "Super Carrier" series, located at: http://r-style.sci-nnov.ru/~shredder/ ! JOEL: Dot R-U. That's Russia, isn't it? TOM: Yup! Kinda ironic, if you think about it. CROW: This public service announcement was made to appease the educational quota imposed on entertainment nowadays. > >"Uh, well, Mom, Dad," Widget started. JOEL: [WIDGET] I'm sorry I didn't get to kill you myself. > "I uh, kind of thought that you >abandoned me when I was a baby. You see, I'm... TOM: Psychotic. > not much of a judge of >character, JOEL: [WIDGET] Look at the crew I hired. > and I - well, maybe I took some things people told me when I >was younger too seriously. JOEL: She finally knows there's no such thing as the Easter Bunny. CROW: Wha-what are you saying, Joel? JOEL: Uh.... > I didn't think you liked me much. JOEL: [WIDGET] The feeling's mutual. > That >anyone could like me much. But there's someone now who loves me. JOEL: [WIDGET] I'm not sure if he still will after detox, though. > And I think >it's real, this time. He's, uh, an old war buddy of yours. JOEL: [WIDGET] He tried to kill you, as well, so we have lots in common. > >"Also, I've met my sister, and well... well, she's a little loopy, but >I don't there's anything wrong with her a few months of therapy >wouldn't cure. JOEL: [WIDGET] Unlike me, who is a hopeless case. TOM: So now she's listening to Dale's "expert" professional opinion of Gadget? CROW: Yeah, he told her while he was reading "Kablammo Man" again. > So, I'm beginning to think that maybe, uh, I'm the one with the >problem. CROW: With "many" problems would be more accurate. > >"So I guess, I'm sorry I thought that of you. TOM: Yeah, it's not their fault that they're in the Nowakverse, after all. > >"You don't know me, JOEL: Thank God. > so maybe we have a lot to catch up on. I know Dad >was really into airplanes, and Gadget's the same way," CROW: At least as far as spectacular crashes go. > Widget smiled. >"I like the ocean. JOEL: [WIDGET] There's so much room in there for the bodies I need to get rid of. > I've always lived near it, and ever since I was a >little girl, it sounded like a friend to me. Even when there was a >storm, it never frightened me. I felt like it was showing how powerful >it was, how much you had to respect it." She sat down on the grass and >resumed in a more natural tone. TOM: Her normal grinding tones, then. How sweet. > "Sometimes I think that the ocean didn't drown me >when Monty had his accident, because it knew how much I love it..." CROW: Or because it wanted revenge on the land-dwellers. > >=== > >"But where's Gadget?" Dale asked, worried. TOM: Hiding behind the scene divider. > >Chip leveled the harpoon gun, loaded with a net dart, at the wetsuit - >clad figure sitting at the grave, talking too softly for them to hear. CROW: Chip, stop mumbling. >"Let's ask her." TOM: With a harpoon gun aimed at her?! What's Chip been doing, taking lessons on interpersonal relationships from Widget? > >Dale put his hand firmly on the harpoon gun, JOEL: [DALE] It's my turn to make a surprise attack on an unsuspecting victim! > pushing it down. "No," he >said, shaking his head. TOM: Oh go organize your toys, Mr. Smarty-Pants. JOEL: Tired of the cocky intelligence Dale was suddenly showing, Chip turned the gun on the pompous brat and fired. > >Chapter Twenty-three : Trials and Tribulations > >Widget's trial quickly became a snarl of treaties and jurisdictions, TOM: Which wasn't really all that exciting, so why bother showing it? JOEL: Just be glad Nowak is not a lawyer. >with the precedents of the Count of Monte Christo, Captains Nemo and >Harlock invoked to give her Byronic Hero status. CROW: Why? To prove she's deranged? > When a petition from >the dolphins and other cetaceans arrived (written with one of those >pens that works underwater) JOEL: Yep, we just had to be aware of that fact. Yesiree, the whole plot hangs on it. > and the builders of Minuscule dropped their suit >in gratitude for the lucrative movie rights they now had, JOEL: Since when did Mice make movies? TOM: The-- JOEL: Nowak Principle, I know, I know. CROW: Coming soon, "Minuscule"! TOM: Eh, it'll be a chick flick. You know it. > Widget was >given two years of probation during which she had to abstain from >committing acts of vengeance without the permission of her parole >officer. CROW: Once she kills him off, she'll be in the clear. TOM: After large amounts of property damage, public endangerment, and at least five counts of attempted murder, that's all the punishment deemed necessary? JOEL: I see the Nowakverse's justice system was modeled after our own. > >Gadget's construction of a torpedo did not pass entirely unnoticed. TOM: Seeing as how she couldn't let it go to waste, and used it on that incoming passenger liner. CROW: Hey, if it worked for Widget.... > The >Small Animals Council for Outlawing Private Ownership of Military >Equipment (SACOPOME) attempted to make this an issue, but were faced >with TOM: Overwhelming printing costs and lack of viable articles. > stiff opposition from the Small Animals Torpedo Association >("Torpedoes don't sink ships, water sinks ships!") CROW: Not here. "Nowak sinks ships!" would be correct. > and even their >attempt to have Gadget prosecuted for not paying the import duty on a >Russian machine gun bullet TOM: Argh! He can't be serious! JOEL: Easy, Tom, I think he's making a joke. CROW: Why am I not in the mood for laughing? > faltered when it was discovered there >weren't twelve animals in the city who would agree to jailing a Rescue Ranger. CROW: They all wanted her dead. > >Chapter Twenty-four : Two Ways to End a Story TOM: What, this is a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book, now? > >Wedding bells rang in joyous celebration, JOEL: A happy ending? TOM: What th-- CROW: My guess is that Nowak's Prozac finally kicked in. > and all the lives touched by >Geegaw Hackwrench CROW: Similar to having your face touched by a thrown brick. > came to town to witness the union of his daughter to >the man with whom she had shared her work so long. CROW: If you know what I mean.... TOM: Ah, one of *those* weddings! > It was, perhaps, the >first time a bride wore a long sleeved black gown. JOEL: Complete with shoulder holster. > >Widget stepped slowly down the aisle, her arm in Monterey's. CROW: [WIDGET] Er, Monty, I need my arm back for the wedding, please? TOM: No, it must be her right arm. JOEL: Either that, or she plunged her mechanical limb through Monterey's. CROW: Hey, with Depresso-Lad writing this, it wouldn't be surprising. > Monty wore >his old Rodent Air Force dress uniform JOEL: Wasn't he in the Navy? TOM: I don't care anymore. I just don't care anymore. My compassion has been drained, leaving only this barren husk of a 'bot. > - retailored -- and his hair was >slicked back, CROW: Using the natural grease from his unwashed scalp. > as he prepared to give his old friend's daughter away. TOM: For two bits. > >"Hey, Gadget," whispered Dale. "Don't you think this bit is a little, >well, sexist?" JOEL: Dale's against the traditional marriage ceremony? > Dale wore a tuxedo with an orange and green color scheme >which could be used for traffic cones, except Dale's induced nausea. CROW: Dale was getting sick? TOM: His body still isn't used to the increased intelligence. > >"Probably," Gadget admitted. For once she was wearing a dress of her >own free will that wasn't a disguise. CROW: [GADGET] Gee, it's so nice we were able to swing this before she starts to show, I guess they'll have to say it's premature or something, and - golly! Is that mike on?! > She had even left her goggles at >home, since the colors clashed. CROW: How, since the dress hasn't been prescribed a color yet? > "Still, Monty needs the closure." JOEL: Not to mention the exercise. TOM: A Velcro closure or a zip closure? > >Chip, in tuxedo and without a fedora, swallowed repeatedly to cover his >nervousness. JOEL: [CHIP] I can't believe we lost the tape for the wedding march. Good thing nobody notices I replaced it. I just hope nobody realizes it's from "Nightmare on Elm Street". > >The groom wore his old Kriegsmausine dress uniform, CROW: His uniform was a dress? JOEL: Er, no. > his medals >exchanged for new ones which weren't as embarrassing to show in public. JOEL: No "I killed hundreds of people during the war and all I got for it was this lousy medal"? Shame. TOM: In the sixties, West Germany struck a run of Iron Crosses without swastikas so veterans could wear their medals in public legally - JOEL: I DON'T CARE! > >Gadget looked over the attendees. TOM: Heavily sedated. > The presence of her father's old >(mostly bachelor) friends and the entire crew of a submarine had tipped >the demographics of the event to nearly 2.3 males per female. JOEL: Not to mention 20 drunken deadbeats per responsible person. CROW: I just want to know where the .3 comes in. TOM: Maybe a relative of Anne Boleyn is there. > Gadget >generally preferred to be a wallflower, CROW: Sipping at a Miracle-Gro cocktail. > but tripping the light >fantastic seemed unavoidable this time. JOEL: Everyone was packing heat, after all, so it didn't make sense to turn anyone down. > She would be on the floor every dance, if >it helped make her sister's wedding a success. TOM: How nice of her to lay down on the floor, so everyone can walk over her. CROW: It *is* Widget's wedding, remember. > >"The reception should be interesting," she muttered to Foxglove. JOEL: [GADGET] Think they'll find that bomb beforehand? > >"Yeah..." the bat sighed happily. CROW: [FOXGLOVE] Wait, what reception? > >=== > >Fat Cat was waiting outside the church. TOM: [FAT CAT] I cannot bear to walk upon consecrated soil. > >Chip knew he should have been worried, but he CROW: Was too loaded to care. > couldn't talk himself >into more than wary concern. It felt wrong. Fat Cat had no particular >reason to wreak havoc on the wedding, JOEL: It didn't stop him during _Consummation_. CROW: He had a reason. That story was actually in tune with the series. TOM: And why can't we read that one instead?! > and in any event, it was too public, too >obvious for him. He held a large bouquet of roses in his hands. TOM: And a dead family member in his teeth. > Chip >considered swinging into action, but Widget and Jürgen took over like >the efficient team they were; CROW: Bickering and quibbling over minute details. > Widget in command, Jürgen implementing >and supporting. JOEL: [WIDGET] Heel, Jürgen. Good boy. CROW: [JÜRGEN] Yes dear. TOM: Ah yes. To honor, love, cherish, and *obey*. > >"Fat Cat," Widget nodded politely. TOM: Unsure what his name was, she addressed him by his description. > >"Dear lady," he nodded. CROW: Off to sleep. JOEL: I know I do at most weddings. > He nodded at Jürgen. "Congratulations, sir." TOM: [FAT CAT] I hope you're insured. > >"Thank you," Jürgen replied. CROW: [JÜRGEN] But we're still not paying for the damages at the casino. > >"May I ask if you will be keeping your maiden name?" Fat Cat asked >politely. JOEL: [WIDGET] Why? You want to buy it? > He blinked. "Say, is Jürgen your first or last name?" he >queried. > >"Both," Jürgen replied. "My father CROW: Had a sick sense of humor. > stuttered and was too shy to admit >it." TOM: Or too stupid. > >"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have a middle name you could use?" > >"Yes, but it's Jürgen." > >"I was planning on keeping 'Hackwrench,'" Widget replied. "I haven't >had it long and I'm not tired of it yet." JOEL: [WIDGET] And if I do tire of it, I'll just shoot it into space. > >"Besides," Jürgen pointed out, "it doesn't have that umlaut. I've never >been fond of my umlaut." CROW: His amulet? TOM: Those two dots over - CROW: I KNOW! I'm just trying to wring some entertainment value from this muck! > >Fat Cat shook his head. "It's a shame you're TOM: [FAT CAT] Still alive. May I remedy that for you? > Byronic. We could have >accomplished a great deal together." CROW: [FAT CAT] I hear Vegas is hiring dealers. > >"Yes," Widget readily agreed. "It's a shame you're irredeemably evil." JOEL: [WIDGET] And that I used up my weekly quota of e's in that sentence. > >"I prefer to think of it as tenacity." He offered the roses. "If I >may?" > >"Thank you," Widget nodded. > >The roses flattened her onto the pavement. CROW: Huh? Roses are *that* heavy? JOEL: They're probably laced with lead poisoning. > The thorns might have >seriously injured her, if her wedding dress had not been made of >Kevlar. TOM: A black, Kevlar, long-sleeved gown for a bride. She's begging for someone to drive by and gun down her husband. CROW: Considering Widget, she's probably expecting that hitman any minute now. >Of course, any cat knows that thorns are the idea behind roses. TOM: Any dumb cat, maybe. > Still, >in dropping the flowers, the feline crimelord had made a mistake both >honest and somewhat flattering. JOEL: And so, a potentially deadly accident is seen to really be a happy event. TOM: Only in the Nowakverse. > >=== > >Quickly resuscitated, Widget flipped her bridal bouquet experimentally >in her hand, CROW: Secretly making sure the explosives were armed. > wound up, and fired it at her sister with the terrifying >accuracy of a laser guided bomb. CROW: See? > It was even money if Gadget would >catch it or be impaled by it, when Foxglove swooped down from the >rafters and scored an interception worthy of a Patriot missile battery. TOM: For those who could care less about military devices and their performance, it means that Foxglove caught the bouquet really well. > If you want >to catch something in mid air, be a bat. TOM: Or a bird. CROW: Or a flying squirrel. TOM: Or a praying mantis. CROW: Or a taller creature. TOM: Or a-- JOEL: Guys, I think you've made your point. > >A spirited discussion ensued with Foxglove carrying the day by pointing >out that "nobody said I couldn't," setting a precedent taken advantage >of by Mr. Fenton TOM: Who transformed into a bat. > as the garter was tossed. The climax of the tradition >was a bit disappointing, as the membrane stretched between Foxglove's >legs made it impossible to go far past her ankle, but everyone made the >best of it. CROW: By surgically removing said membrane. > >Widget and Jürgen stepped out into the center of the room for their >dance to what would thereafter be their song: JOEL: The theme from "Sesame Street". > Bach's Toccata and Fugue >in D Minor. > >"Gadget's agreed to overlook TOM: All of the attempts to kill her, kill her friends, and tarnish her family name. CROW: She's a bit "loopy", remember? > converting the layout of Albacore," Jürgen >whispered into his wife's ear. TOM: [JÜRGEN] She'll be alone in the bowels of the sub tonight. JOEL: [WIDGET] Excellent. Everything proceeds as planned. > >"I know," Widget agreed. "She's rearranging things so we can share one >big cabin." JOEL: [WIDGET] She said something about how the new design "should" hold up under the water pressure, so there's nothing to fear, right? > >Jürgen cleared his throat. "Maybe we should tidy up the meditation >chamber before she starts work?" he suggested. > >Widget blinked. "Omigosh." JOEL: [WIDGET] I never said that word in my life. > >When the dancing began, Chip had more or less made up his mind to sit >it out TOM: Aw... the "chips" are down for the poor guy. Hah! CROW: Help me. > - his chances were reasonably low, and the submariners probably >deserved first shot. JOEL: Uh... let's just let that one go by, hmm? TOM: Fair enough. CROW: [sigh] If you insist. > Gadget cleared her throat, blinked at him, and >grinned. CROW: [GADGET] You know your fly's unzipped? JOEL: Hey... that reminds me of someone... someone that we haven't seen in a while. TOM: Yeah, I know what you mean. Oh well, I'm sure if it was important, Nowak would have mentioned it by now. JOEL: Yeah, it's not like he doesn't care for any member of the Rangers. > >"I can't give you every dance," she started apologetically. CROW: [GADGET] Heck, I don't even want to. > "But I'd >like to give you the first." > >Suddenly worried, Chip looked for Tammy. JOEL: Yeah, after being asked to dance by my dream girl, the first thing I do is look for another girl. > She was being swept off her >feet by Mr. Calvert, and her teenaged ego was presumably safe for the >time being, TOM: Unfortunately. > despite her crush on Chip. Monty was moving out onto the >floor with Tammy's little sister, Bink. CROW: Oh. He found an intellectual equal, then. > Foxglove was towing Dale out, >using his necktie as a choke collar. CROW: You sure they aren't married? JOEL: Not in this fanfic, anyway. > Andy the Mole had found a partner, >and would presumably do his best despite the cast on his foot. At least >he'd have a chance to talk with someone who wasn't aware he had been >calling a superior officer "Mommy." TOM: I can think of worse things to call a superior officer. Especially when they're still in earshot. > >Chip bowed with a grin and gave her his arm. TOM: Hey, now he's got something in common with Widget! > Soon Chip and Gadget were >moving to the music CROW: Hoping to break the CD player before the DJ noticed. > - Veteran of 1000 Psychic Wars by Devo TOM: This is one wacked out wedding. CROW: What did you expect? They're all still reeling from the effects of Prozac. > - and >smiling at one another. Chip rested his cheek against hers, and closed >his eyes for a moment although he was leading, smiling and breathing in >the gentle aroma of machine oil and super glue he had come to treasure. TOM: And the run-on sentences he had learned to tolerate. > >Well, heck, he thought. The last time was only a dream. CROW: But this time it's a nightmare! AAAAAAAAAA! JOEL: Whoa, Crow! Wake up, wake up! It's over, we can go now! CROW: Oh, thank God, Joel. Come on, I need to get a glass of water to wash this down. [Door sequence run in reverse.] [SoL] [The main bridge is seen, but everything is in black and white. The contrast is dull, so things tend to blur together in only a few shades of gray. JOEL and the BOTS seem to lack any real enthusiasm.] TOM: Oh, Joel... I just don't feel anything anymore. I mean, I've felt anger, sorrow, hate, and fear after going through these various experiments, but now I just feel... numb. CROW: Yeah, it's like everything passionate within us has been sucked out and been replaced with leaden, colorless copies. Things are the same on the surface, but no life is here. JOEL: We have been through the bowels of Ultimate Depression, my friends. That's what the problem is. This fanfic drained away everything vibrant and nourishing from our minds. Look, even Cambot was affected. CROW: So how can we counter it? TOM: Why should we bother? I mean, this life is nothing more than an ongoing gauntlet of despair and hopelessness, until the cold void of death wipes us all out. JOEL: No guys, come on! We have to rally against this! This isn't the Nowakverse! It's close, but it's not the same thing! We have each other! TOM: [rallying] Yeah...yeah! We do! The Mads shan't break us this easily. We need to figure out how to restore the color to our lives before they call. CROW: But how? How can we defeat the encroaching darkness threatening to consume our souls? JOEL: Wait! I know! This is going to be tough guys, but we can beat back the approaching sadness from this fanfic by twisting it into something fun and jovial. Then, it'll be too ashamed to even be seen around us! TOM: It just might work! But Joel, how? How? JOEL: Just follow my lead, guys. Cambot, hit it! [Music starts in the background. JOEL straightens up as TOM and CROW flank him on both sides and begin singing to the tune of "Conjunction Junction".] BOTS: Depression session, what's the lesson? JOEL: Takin' down dreams and hopes and goodness BOTS: Depression session, why this lesson? JOEL: Because some depression is good to deflate your importance BOTS: Depression session, what's our lesson? JOEL: I got Pain, Angst, 'n' Strife They'll hurt you like a knife Pain! That's a mental trait, like "Life does suck" Angst! That's emotional, like "Life sure sucks" And then there's Strife! Bleak Strife When you don't have a choice about how life sucks Pain, Angst, and Strife makes you want to end your life! BOTS: Depression session, what's the lesson? JOEL: Splittin' up two sisters and making 'em then fight Punch and jab, block and counter, slice and mark BOTS: Hey that's dark! JOEL: Pretty but deadly, roastin' and toastin' Gougin' an eye, screamin' "You will die!" They're smart but hateful, and they sigh, "I cry, cry, cry, cry!" BOTS: Depression session, what's the lesson? JOEL: Showin' the world is bleak When you see something like this hell: Gadget wants to murder Or worse hell: Gadget attempts murder BOTS: On her sister JOEL: No love and hope No peace and help Never mind, we couldn't have that We're sad enough now BOTS: Depression session, what's the lesson? JOEL: Puncturin' beliefs and ideals of goodness, by Leaving helpless children in the river at birth Sinking innocent ships and threatening kittens for mirth Let's go look up our relatives and torture them to death You should always thank others by stopping their breath BOTS: Depression session, what's the lesson? JOEL: Hooking up grief and sadness and despair in complex plotlines like: In the mornings when I cry myself awake, I hate to see others happy in their life and so I tell them, all I wanted was a good life and home, but no -- instead I have no arm and my dad threw me in the bay, although I know that I have no proof. BOTS: Depression session, what's the lesson? JOEL: Hookin' up bits of sad regression. BOTS: Depression session, what's our lesson? JOEL: I like tyin' up folks in their own entrails. BOTS: Depression session, who's the lesson? JOEL: I'm gonna write about Gadget weepin' and wailin' BOTS: Depression session, what's the lesson? JOEL: I'm going to write about Gadget tryin' and failin'. [As they sing the last verse, the screen flickers for a moment, then snaps back to normal, in color. JOEL nods with a smile and pats the BOTS on the back, who are now cheering.] TOM: All right, Joel! We did it! JOEL: Of course we did, you guys. Why? Because we are a team, and we all work together. It's what humanity is all about. CROW: I thought it was all about winning the lottery.... [Red light flashes, JOEL hits it.] JOEL: What do you think, sirs? [GIZMONICS] [FRANK and DR. FORRESTER are going over printouts and frowning. Stacks of paper surround them, and printers can be heard in the background.] FORRESTER: Oh, Joel, listen we really don't have time to talk. That new hire of ours hasn't been working out too well. FRANK: Hey, Dr. F., isn't this a lot of information concerning changing a light bulb? [reading from his printout] Be sure that globe of lumen generation has been deactivated, and is allowed time to properly slow its molecules down. Use the formula devised to calculate the rate of heat loss in a stationary environment, taking into account all variables concerning wind velocity and direction, proximity to secondary heat sources, and the current stability of the Chinese economy on beverages made from the product of tea plantations. If-- FORRESTER: [annoyed] That's enough, Frank! I know how complicated things have gotten down here since we took him on. [SoL] JOEL: Jeepers, you mean you two and Mr. Nowak aren't as compatible as you thought? [GIZMONICS] FORRESTER: Compatible? Oil and water is more compatible! You know he set up all the computer systems to play the funeral march on start-up? FRANK: Not too mention the shutdown message; "It is now safe to release your computer from the tortured existence of life". FORRESTER: I mean, we're evil, but this guy is downright anti-hope. The alert sounds have been switched to death knells. FRANK: And that screensaver of the Little Mermaid getting caught in a tuna net? That's too depressing for even us. FORRESTER: [on the verge of crying] The Little Mermaid, Joel -- he has her struggling to no avail as those unscrupulous, greedy, murderous tuna fisherman are hauling her up! It's just not natural! [SoL] JOEL: So, where is he now? [GIZMONICS] FORRESTER: Oh, we sent him out to get some pizza. We needed time to recover from his incessant speculation on the end of the universe. FRANK: Are we really going to collide with Andromeda in five billion years? [The door opens in the background, and JOHN enters, carrying a pizza box. "Torgo's pizza" is clearly seen on the top as he approaches.] FRANK: Well, it took you long enough, not that we're complaining, really. JOHN: Don't blame me, the service at the nearest place was incredibly slow. FORRESTER: Wait a minute... [looks at pizza box] Oh, great! You had to pick Torgo's! FRANK: [looking ill] Torgo's?! JOHN: Why? [looks at them confusedly] What's wrong with Torgo's? FORRESTER: Well they're-- [he stops, looks thoughtful, then smiles a bit too sweetly] They're just a little slow, that's all, but a favorite of ours, right Frank? FRANK: [looking unsure] Uh, yeah, sure thing, Doctor F. FORRESTER: Look, John, you've been doing such a *swell* job down here, why don't you help yourself to the pizza, hmmm? Frank and I really aren't as hungry as we thought, what with all this work to do. JOHN: [pleased] Really? As much as I want? FORRESTER: I insist! JOHN: Gee, thanks guys, maybe I'll have to rethink my stance on how horrible the world is. [He opens the box and grabs a slice. FORRESTER grins evilly at FRANK, who looks ill as he turns away, and presses the button right before JOHN takes a huge bite from the pizza.] --- FWOOSH! --- [End credits] 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 (when you can find him), Fat Cat, Foxglove, Tammy, Bink, and Geegaw (the dead character) are owned by Disney. _Under the Bridge_ and all original characters are [c] copyrighted by John Nowak. 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 post is not, in any way, shape, or form, a personal attack on John Nowak. His stories are really very enjoyable, if a tad on the dark side. Oh, and the Grand Hall at Ellis Island is a good ways up from the ground, but Joel and the Bots weren't aware of that. This MiSTing is [c] copyright 1998 by John Nowak and Matt Plotecher. > But now he knew it for what it was he saw it, unmistakably if indistinctly, a > long, slender shadow of slightly darker water fluttering in the waves.