Author's notes, from Kielle: Well...here it is.  The one, the only, the follow-up to my startlingly-popular multiple-online-award-winning "X-MST3K."  Good lord I'm nervous.  I hope this stacks up to your expectations, seeing as some of you have been lusting for this for over two YEARS.  <gulp>  I hope you like it.  Feedback is coveted desperately; please ask to archive, I'll say yes of course and even provide you with a spiffy HTMLed copy.

 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: See the end of this, please.

 DISCLAIMER: The MST3K cast & crew belong to the Best Brains; Marvel's characters belong to Marvel; Andrew's characters and original text belong to Andrew; and anything else mentioned in here that I did not invent out of thin air belong to their respective owners.  No harm is intended and no profit is being made unless you can cash giggles in at the bank.

 WARNING: There IS a little bit of bad language in this story, more than the Best Brains would use...but it's only in one tiny spot, and Andrew started it!  Honest!

 One last thing: I have also been asked by many readers of the LAST installment to tell you NOT to read this while you're eating or drinking -- especially if over a keyboard at the time.  Consider yourself warned.  ;)  Fasten your seatbelts.  Here we goooo...

 .-=K=-.
(and Doc Nuke)

[Scene: the bridge of the SOL.  Fog billows across the control panel.  From the fog emerges Crow's beak.  The voice of Tom Servo is heard in the background, humming a hauntingly familiar tune...]

 TOM: Doo doo, doo, do-da-doo doo.
CROW: Every generation has a legend...
TOM: Da-doo, da-doo-do-do-do-dee-da-doo...
CROW: Every journey has a first step...
TOM: Da-doo, DA-DO DA-DO DA-DOO-DOO, do-do-do-dee-dee-doo...
CROW: Every saga has a beginning...
TOM: Do da-doo.  [Makes breathing sounds] *Co-chee* *Co-chee*!
TOM & CROW: DA-DUH-DA-DA!  DA!!  DA-DUH-DA DUHHH DUHHH!!!!

 [The 'bots now begin running around wildly and running into each other.]

 CROW: You speak of the one that will bring balance to The Force.  You believe it is this boy?
TOM: He can see things before they happen!

 [Gypsy pops up behind the control counter.]

 GYPSY: He can help you...
TOM: The Force is unusually strong with him.
GYPSY: He was meant to help you!
CROW: [aside] Not bad, Gypsy...
GYPSY: Thank you.
TOM: Ah-hem!  ANAKIN!
CROW: Oh, yeah!

 [Crow holds up a plastic sword.]

 CROW: Vommmm, buzz!  Take that, Rob Roy!
TOM: Tell them to take-off!
CROW: Are you sure?
TOM: Well, no, but...
CROW: Ah...okay.  [Sweetly]  Will I ever see you again?
GYPSY: What does your heart tell you?
CROW: Well...
TOM: Huh...
GYPSY: Mike, it's your line!

 [Cambot pans over to Mike who is wearing white face make-up, large moose-antlers, and a kimono.]

 MIKE: Guys, look this is fun and all, but I don't know if really want to do this part.
CROW: Sheesh, Mike!
TOM: Nelson, usually I put up with your human frailties, but for the love of Lucas, say those lines before I open up a can of Wookiee on you!
MIKE: Okay, sorry Servo, boy.  [Looks at a script]  Are you sure about this?  Trusting our fate to a boy we hardly know?
TOM: Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi.
CROW: Ooh, the smooth "Trainspotting" Kenobi, and not the wrinkly "Liverspotting" one!
TOM: Crow!
CROW: Sorry.  [Holds up a green sock.]  There is much fear in you!
TOM: The boy is dangerous.  They all sense it, why can't you?
CROW: Fear is the path of the Dark Side!
TOM: DUH-DUH-DUH!
CROW: Fear leads to anger.  Anger leads to hate...
TOM: DUH-DUM-DUH!!
CROW: Hate leads to suffering!
MIKE: And more sequels.

 [Crow and Tom loudly scream out the last few chords of music while subsequently racing about bashing each other with plastic swords.  Tom's dome falls off and Crow loses an eye.]

 CROW: And now the second trailer!
TOM: Yeah, dibs on Princess Giant-Headgear and Mike can be Jar-Jar Binks!

 [Commercial sign flashes.]

 MIKE: Umm, we've got Commercial Sign.  We'll be right back.

 [Yet another commercial for Farscape, First Wave, and The Burning Zone.  By the time you read this, however, all three have in all likelihood been cancelled.  Hmm.]

 [SOL Bridge again.  Mike is center.  Tom and Crow have their heads buried in various magazines with Episode 1 on the cover.]

 MIKE: Hello, everyone, welcome to the Satellite of Love.  As you can tell, Crow and Tom are a little bit excited about the new Star Wars movie.
CROW: [reading] All this hype is great!  It's like we've seen the movie already.
TOM: [reading] I could exist on spoilers and behind-the-scenes news alone.
CROW: [reading] Did you see this?  Jabba the Hutt will be in Episode One, but instead of a big rubber puppet with Little People inside, he will be full of digital Little People.
TOM: [reading] Oh yeah, I saw that on Access Hollywood.  According to Vanity Fair, Episode One will finally explain why Boba Fett is so popular despite having only twenty minutes total screen time and less than five lines.
CROW: [reading] Well, in National Geographic's Episode One issue they have an amusing piece about how the entire cast kept finding Mark Hamill loitering around, and they had to keep chasing him off the lot and telling him that his character wasn't even born yet, and Hamill could only reply that he had nowhere else to go.
TOM: [reading] That's almost a cute as the American Medical Journal's Episode One article about how all of the white battle droids pulled a prank by climbing on a bus and pretending they were going to the airport.  Later they all showed up again wearing "Revenge Of The Battle Droids" T-shirts.  Classic!
MIKE: So, isn't "Phantom Menace" kinda dopey sounding?  Like a guy in a tux and a little white half-mask is chasing you around.

 [Crow and Tom slowly lower their magazines and stare at Mike intensely.  He looks around for a place to escape, but is interrupted by the flashing red light.]

 MIKE: Excuse me, guys, but Pearl is calling.

 [Castle Forrester.  The castle interior is littered with odd displays of models and hanging props.  A table with autographed pictures sits near the entrance.  Several people in T-shirts and sweats are milling around.]

 PEARL: Hello, Nel-bone and Robots.  Welcome to CON-FAB-ULON!

 [SOL]

 MIKE: What?

 [Castle Forrester]

 PEARL: I realized that there are big bucks to be made off of science fiction conventions.  These poor idiots will slam down fifty big ones a day just to look at some crap that "allegedly" came from one of their precious little Roddenberry-sanctioned bundles of fluff.  With that kind of easy cash, world domination can't be far behind.  Brain Guy is showing some of the first victims around the merchandise room.

 [The Observer is near the table full of autographs.]

 OBSERVER: Get your fabulous full-color Star Trek autographs from this table.  Choose from three fan favorites: Garret Wang, Wil Wheaton and Robin Curtis.
CON-GOER 1: [Peter Rudrud] Don't you have any Leonard Nimoy?
OBSERVER: Who?
CON-GOER 2: [Beez] You know, Spock?
OBSERVER: I've never met the gentleman.

 [The Observer moves to a hanging rack of pants that get larger and larger.]

 OBSERVER: Here we have a collection of trousers from Star Trek's James "Scotty" Doohan.  They are in chronological and sizealogical order from '66 to the present.

 [The Observer moves to a table featuring a bottle of blue spray-cleaner with a picture of Samuel L. Jackson on it.]

 OBSERVER: This is a rare preview item from Star Wars Episode 1.  This is some Mace Windex.

 [He courteously pauses for the chorus of groans then moves to a table with videotapes stacked high on it.]

 OBSERVER: Available only here at Con-Fab-Ulon, we present complete episodes of great sci-fi shows that no one wanted.  Included are Space Precinct, Space Rangers, Space: Above And Beyond, and Babylon 5: Crusade.  Please give these shows a home.

 [The Observer moves to a large cage where Bobo is imprisoned.  The con-goers gawk and point.]

 CON-GOER 2: My gosh, is he real?
BOBO: Of course I'm real, what did you expect?
OBSERVER: Here we have a simian not unlike those seen in Fox's "Planet Of The Apes" movies.
BOBO: I come from a future world where apes evolve from man.  It can really happen!
CON-GOER 1: Do you know Charlton Heston?
BOBO: I know he likes guns!

 [SOL]

 MIKE: Wow, that's something, Mrs. Forrester.  How can we help?
CROW: I know!  I know!  [as Jonathan Harris]  We can tell the dear folks about our days Lost In Space!
TOM: Danger!  Danger!

 [Castle Forrester]

 PEARL: Actually, I was thinking that you three should just do, you know, that thing it is you do.  Like all great sci-fi cons, we intend to have a special screening.

 [SOL]

CROW & TOM: Episode One???

 [Castle Forrester]

 PEARL: No, but close.  It's Episode Two actually.  Brain Guy.
OBSERVER: Yes, Madame.  Mike, your special Con-Fab-Ulon screening today is the second part of something you should find, oh, let's just say hauntingly familiar.
PEARL: Once this monster rots these suckers' mind, they'll buy anything...even this slightly used Shatner girdle!  HA HA HA!!!

 [SOL]

 ALL: We've got Movie Sign!!!!!!

 [The usual chaos breaks loose as Mike and the bots are forced towards the Theater Of Pain...]

 [Bridge...1...2...3...4...5...6...theater]

 > Well, welcome to my second story.  It's much better then the first.

 TOM: [settling into his seat next to Mike] Because THIS time I knew how to use the space bar!

 > You may want to read the Secret Files of Weapon X before you read this.

 CROW: Uh...huh?  I don't like the look of this...
TOM: I have to agree with Crow.  This rings some ugly bells.
MIKE: Now let's not jump to conclusions.  It could just be a old Wolverine story.
CROW: Oh like THAT helps.

 > It gives a character Bio and history of most of my characters, so it's helpful.  Well, I hope you enjoy this.  I'ts not finished yet, so check back for updates!

 CROW: I am officially getting scared here...

 > [email protected]

 MIKE: That address...that address IS strangely familiar...
TOM: (in dawning realization) She wouldn't be so cruel!  She WOULDN'T--!

 > -Andrew "FaBoO" Vincent

 ALL: NOOOOOOOOOoooooOOoooOOOOOOO!!!
CROW: [almost hysterical] No no no no no no...I was just kidding when I said all that stuff about "X II," I swear!  I've been a good 'bot!  PLEASE make it go away!  WAAAAH!!!  I wan' my m-m-mommy...
TOM: Mike, you promised you'd kill me if we had to go through this!  You promised!
MIKE: I did not!
TOM: WELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE!!!

 [Tom starts banging his head against the back of his seat.  Crow is sobbing.  Mike is nibbling on his fingernails and struggling to stay calm.  Unexpectedly, he leaps to his feet and, much to the 'bots' amazement, starts pacing furiously in front of the screen, punching one fist into his other palm, trying to sound tough and McArthur-ish.  Of course, he pretty much still sounds like Mike (ie."nice"), but he's trying.  Give him that.]

 MIKE: I say that we've put up with this for too long!  Are we men or mice?  Never mind, don't answer that.    I say we show her what we're made of!  I say we show her some backbone!
TOM: Just think what she'll DO to that backbone, Mike.  The term "calcium windchimes" comes to mind.
CROW: [snickering] Yeah, whatcha gonna do, Mike?  Show her some *guts*?
MIKE: I can't believe you guys are afraid of her.
CROW: Nah.  We're not the ones who need oxygen.
TOM: Saaaay, just how DOES she still maintain control over the Satellite of Love, anyway?  Deep Thirteen hasn't existed for hundreds of years.
MIKE: That's right...hmm...hmmmmm...  [snap of the fingers]  Say!  Maybe she's bluffing?
CROW: She sure wasn't bluffing that time she went on a camping trip and shut down our power for the night.
TOM: Crow, Crow, Crow, you know better than to confuse him with logic.
MIKE: Uh -- right.  [does a suspicious doubletake at Tom as if to assure himself that he's not being made fun of]  That's not...uhhh...damn.  Where was I?
CROW: About to cower meekly under the oppressive fist of Forrester, as always?
MIKE: Look, hey, I...well, maybe...oh cut it out, now I've totally lost my train of thought.
TOM: Hush, child.  Fanfic starting.

 > PROLOGUE

 ALL: [general pitiful whimpering]
MIKE: We can do this...we can do this...but if it turns out that we can't, I get dibs on the cyanide Kool-Aid.

 >        Earth is a beautiful planet.  The oceans look pure blue, and the clouds create patterns that can only be seen from the sky, and that's where I am.

 CROW: Woo-hoo!  I'm so high you could bounce the Disney Channel off of me!

 > I'm not exactly in the sky.

 TOM: I could be on the ground, or underwater.  Some days I have trouble telling the difference.

 > I'm in a space station that the world doesn't even know exists.  I am in Avalon, a sanctuary for mutants.  It protects them from the hatred that the world has toward them.

 CROW: Except for the occasional random nuclear warhead, but hey! what's a few accidents between neighbors?

 >        Avalon is also a hacker's dream.  It is all computers.  It seems that there is a computer down every hall and in every room.

 MIKE: We regularly sacrifice virgins to the Glory of Microsoft.
TOM: [deep voice] Yo!  Andrew!  Stop kicking and get your toga-clad butt up on that altar!  Sheesh.  Some people just can't handle a little sacrificing...

 > After spending a week there, I had been into almost every government file, including the rare "Project Blue Book".  There was nothing I didn't know.

 CROW: So how many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, wise guy?

 >        "Sire," said Colossus.  Oh yeah.  Did I mention that they worshiped me here?

 [stunned silence]
MIKE: Did he just say...
CROW: ...what I THINK he said?
TOM: Ayep.
[More stunned silence.  Then...]
ALL: KILL HIM!  KILL HIM!  KILL HIM!!!!!!!

 [All three leap up and charge out of the theater, intent upon drawing blood.  A few moments later they file back in, looking generally sheepish.]

 MIKE: [walking into range] ...had his address from the first one so I really thought we had a chance of stopping him before he breeds...pity we can't get down to Earth huh?
TOM: Yeah...wasn't it nice when we were all thrown 500 years into the future and could savor the fact that all fanfic writers had been wiped out along with the rest of the human race?
CROW: Yeah, but the fact that Butterfingers Nelson here had blown up the entire Earth meant that we couldn't go do the Monkey on their graves.
MIKE: Stop rubbing that in, wouldja?

 > "Exodus is ready to take the recovery team down to Earth.  Will you be coming with us?"

 TOM: [Andrew] No way.  I'm going to stay up here and pick you off from orbit.  Have fun, target-boy!

 >        "Yes," I said.  "Tell Exodus that I will be ready in a matter of minutes."

 MIKE: [Andrew, campy] Hey, what do you think he'd like better, the blue chiffon or this snazzy little black number I picked up the last time we carpetbombed Paris?

 >        "Yes Sire," said Colossus.  As he walked down the hall, a memory came to me.

 TOM: Somebody take a look into this kid's ear -- I think that poor memory died of malnutrition in there.

 > A memory of a family.  Not my own family, but of a different one.

 CROW: Yeah, I know what he means -- sometimes I get vivid Cosby flashbacks too...

 > A family of many people, none of which were brothers and sisters, just all grouped together trying to survive.

 [All start intensely humming the Battlestar Galactica theme]

 > The memory started to fade. I tried to hold on to it, but it seemed impossible.  It left my mind.

 MIKE: Short trip.

 > I started to walk down the hall again.  <SFISCH>

 TOM: Ah, so they're using doors from the Star Trek: Next Generation set!

 > The air in front of me turned yellow.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Oh, THERE you are, Discharge!
BOTH BOTS: Ewww!

 >        "My Lord, we await your arrival in the teleportation room," said Exodus.  "Today we go to the school where you were once educated."

 CROW: [deadpan] Oh, the sarcasm.  Oh, the irony.  Alas and alack.  Mike?  KILL ME!!!

 >        "Yes, I remember," I said.  That was one of the few memories that I still had.

 TOM: Along the one about not smiling at gorillas.  Maybe someday that one will come in useful.

 > I remember school, and a friendship.  A friendship that was so strong that nothing could break it.

 MIKE: Except the prospect of starring in his own fanfic, which of course he took like a shot.
TOM: [Andrew] Rory who?  Sorry, no time to chat, I'm too busy pretending that the X-Men like me.

 >        "My Lord, it would be quicker if I teleported us both to the terminal."

 CROW: [Exodus] Of course, we COULD end up as a fine paste on the terminal floor, but at least the story'd be shorter.

 >        "Fine, Exodus.  Teleport away."

 TOM: Please!

 > <SFISCH>

 ALL: [jump in their seats as if startled] AAAH!

 > X, Part II
> The New Age of Mutants

 MIKE: [sigh] On any other day, we'd just have to start singing "The Age Of Apocalypse" at this
point, but right now we're too depressed.
TOM: You said it, brutha.

 > The Mutant Legacy

 ALL: Oh, shut up.

 > CHAPTER 1

 TOM: [deep and dramatic] Arrakis. Dune. Desert planet...

 >        "Welcome to a new school year," says Mr. Clark.

 CROW: [a la Mr. Mackey] Mmm-kay?

 > "We hope that this year will be the greatest year that Sewickley Academy has had yet.

 MIKE: [Mr. Clark] Now that we've finally gotten rid of Vincent...

 > With our new seventh graders, and our new ninth graders,

 CROW: We won't discuss that little incident involving a school bus carrying the entire eighth-grade class and its "accidental" plunge into an active volcanic crater...
TOM: What, they took a field trip to Los Angeles?
CROW: [rimshot]
MIKE: [greatly pained] No Tommy Lee Jones jokes.  Don't start.  Please.  I'll get screaming "Two-Face" flashbacks and you'll have to defibrillate me again.

 > this year holds quite a bit of potential.

 TOM: Quite unlike the entire ninth grade, mind you...

 > And now here's Mr. Zaluski."

 MIKE: [Mr. Clark] And just in case your parents ask about Mr. Zaluski's sudden reinstatement, I am happy to announce the medication worked, the charges have been dropped, and he no longer has to wear a muzzle around the girls' volleyball team.

 > There is a moment of polite applause from the crowd of students,

 CROW: Except for those two tenth-graders snogging away in the back of the auditorium.  You know who you are!

 > for none of them are very excited to be back in school.

 TOM: That, and the fact that most of them are stoned out of their minds.

 > Suddenly, the stage emits a great yellow light from behind the brown curtains.  A hush falls over the students.

 MIKE: No, those are ceiling tiles.

 >        "BUT BEFORE WE GET ON WITH THE ASSEMBLY, WE HAVE SOMETHING A LITTLE DIFFERENT FOR YOU!!!,"

 CROW: AAAAH!  CAPS LOCK!  JERK!!!

 > booms a loud voice over the stereo system.  The curtains flew open.

 TOM: Ground Control, we have verb-tense shift -- repeat, we HAVE verb-tense shift...

 > Exodus stood on center stage.  Behind him was the gigantic figure of Delgado.

 MIKE: Ah.  So are we supposed to stuff money into their tights or what?

 > Other Acolytes stood around Exodus.  It was truly a sight to behold.

 TOM: Well, yes, but so's [breaking into song] the biggest ball of twine in Minnesooo-ta!

 > "We come here today not to harm you, but to save four of you from certain death.

 CROW: The rest of you losers are going on "Singled Out" whether you like it or not.  Don't make me have to break out the cattle prod.

 > But before we begin, let me introduce you all to our savior, SHADOW!"  A burst of smoke.  A shadow-like figure.  An awed silence.  A shout.

 ALL: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--!
MIKE, Hey, pretty good, guys.  That didn't sound a thing like our scream in the preview at the end of "X."
CROW: [modestly] We've been practicing.

 >        "Who are you, and what do you want," shouted Mr. Clark.

 CROW: Geez, I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition.
TOM: NOOObody inquests the Spanish Exqui--  Oh drat.  I'll come in again.
CROW: Uh, sorry, no you won't.  That joke's already as dead as a Constantine girl.

 >        "Nothing that has to do with you," I said.  "Exodus, read the names."

 CROW: Roderick?
MIKE: Welease Wodewick!

 >        "Will the following people please come up onto the stage.

 CROW: Ryan?
MIKE: Welease Wyan!

 > If you are to frightened, we will send someone to help you," said Exodus.  "Rory White."

 CROW: Rory White?
MIKE: Weleeeeease Wowy White!
TOM: Erm, guys?  I think we're now well over today's quota of Monty Python jokes.
CROW: There can NEVER be too many Monty Python jokes.

 > I walked into the crowd, looking for him.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Rory?  Rory!  Here boy!  Heeeere boy!  [whistles, then mutters] ...swear I'm
gonna have him neutered...

 > Again, I was reminded of our friendship that we had once had.

 TOM: Some friendship.  He can't even remember what Rory looks like -- and on top of that, Rory's hiding from him!

 > Someone stood up.
>        "I'm Rory White," said that someone.  Another person stood up.

 CROW: Uh, heh heh, hi, I'm NOT Rory White, I just had a leg cramp.  Sorry.

 >        "No, I'm Rory White."  Soon, there were ten people standing up, claiming to be Rory White.

 TOM: Several others stood up and claimed to be Spartacus, but they were ignored.

 > I looked them over.  I saw a familiar face in the crowd.  As I rushed towards him, he started to punch and kick at me.

 CROW: God, who wouldn't?

 > I immediately remembered the times when we had attacked each other for fun.

 MIKE: Uhhh...what?  Guys?  Does this make ANY sense to either of you?
TOM: Nope.
CROW: Not a word.
MIKE: Oh good, for a moment there I thought I was going mad.  [He shakes his head and sinks lower in his seat, muttering "...the first time I had never had before..."]

 > We didn't hurt each other, but I could clearly remember his fighting style.

 TOM: Unfortunately, it involved saliva and his trademarked "coup-de-wedgie."

 > He always was more aggressive, and defense was no where in his vocabulary.

 CROW: Along with the rest of the "D"s and pretty much everything beyond the letter "J."

 > I grabbed his leg on its way down from a kick that had missed me by mere inches.

 TOM: Ah!  I understand his style now: "Scream-And-Leap"...only less effective.

 > I lifted his leg up, and painlessly took him to the ground.

 MIKE: There is something distinctly WRONG with this.  Don't ask me to describe it -- just take my word for it.  WRONG!  WRONG!  WRONG!!!

 >        "Rory, stop this," I whispered to him.  "It's me, Andrew."

 CROW: [Rory] And that's supposed to be reassuring?  You're dragging me into one of your stupid fanfics, aren't you?  Excuse me while I hang myself with my own tongue...

 > When I said that, my power to make myself invisible in shadows stopped, and my eyes lost their green flash.  My face was clearly visible now.

 TOM: And then Rory REALLY started fighting like a crazed schnauzer!

 >        "Andrew?" Rory asked.

 CROW: [Andrew] No, I'm Dana Delaney.  Of COURSE I'm Andrew!

 >        "Yep, it's me.  Now don't worry.

 MIKE: I'd make the obvious pun here, but I hear that Bobby McFerrin's lawyers are kept perky on a strict diet of human flesh...

 > Avalon isn't that bad, and since your my friend, you'll get a lot of perks throughout your new home.

 TOM: Booze, babes, all-night Quake marathons, your own personal nuclear warhead, the occasional painful genetic restructuring...

 > Trust me.  Now just go stand up on stage, unless you want to help me find the other mutants."

 CROW: [Andrew] Awww, c'mon Rory!  Don't be such a boring old poop!  Betraying your own species is fun!

 >        "I'll help you, Andrew," Rory said.  I gave him my hand, and I helped him up.

 TOM: [Andrew] Now give me back my hand, you schmuck.

 >        "Who's next, Exodus?" I asked.

 MIKE: [Exodus] You, sir.  How about a hot oil massage?
CROW: Urgh.  You didn't HAVE to do there, did you...?

 >        "A girl named Sarah Hylund," said Exodus.  "I believe she is in Rory's grade."

 CROW: Woo!  That Andrew really knows how to pick up the chicks!  Show up with a pack of Magneto's Acolytes and forcibly kidnap 'em!
TOM: Come to think of it, how else COULD a seventh-grader pick up chicks?

 >        "Now folks.  Let's not do the same thing we did when I came to find Rory.

 TOM: [Andrew] This time, shoot to kill.

 > If you do, I might have to kill you.

 CROW: Oh, RIGHT.  The worst Andrew could possibly do to Exodus is soil his shinguards.

 > And anyway, Rory goes to this school, and he knows a lot of you.  I also went to this school, but that doesn't matter.

 MIKE: Hey, he said it, not us.
TOM: This is far too easy.
CROW: Psst!  Mike! Kill me!

 > So, will Sarah Hylund please stand up."

 CROW: How hard can it be?  There's no way they can pull that stupid "standing up and claiming to be Rory" thing when it comes to Little Miss Hylund here.
TOM: Oh?
CROW: Sure.  Because...There Can Be Only One!
TOM & MIKE: D'OH!

 >        "No need for that, Andrew," said a female voice from behind me.

 MIKE: So THAT'S Rory's mutant power!  Wow!  Rory's HOT!
[All cut loose with kissy noises and wolf whistles]

 > "If Rory's going to wherever you came from, so am I."  I turned around to see a beautiful young woman standing beside Rory.

 MIKE: Oh.  Never mind.  I should have known: no teenaged boy is going to give himself a mutant power which depletes his testosterone.
TOM: I didn't think there WERE "beautiful young women" in eighth grade.
CROW: Well, according to certain newsgroups...what?  What?  What are you both staring at?

 >        "Rory, is that Sarah?"  I asked.

 CROW: [Rory] No, but who cares?  I'll take her!  Woo!

 >        "Yeah, this is her," he replied.
>        "You know she had a thing for you?"
>        "Not until now.  Who's next, Exodus?"

 TOM: [flatly] Oh.  Oh.  The dramatic flowering of tender young love.  I am overwhelmed.  Fan me before I swoon from the sheer passionate intensity of this revelation.  Mike--
MIKE: No I will NOT kill you.  Would you two stop asking already?

 >        "A ninth grader who we only know as Flair."
>        "Flair!?!" I said.  "Is that her real name, or did the computer screw up again?

 MIKE: Nope, just her parents.

 > What kind of a name is Flair?!"  The answer I got was a punch in the face.

 [All cheer wildly]

 > The punch broke my concentration, my eyes lost their strange green flash, and my face became visible to the crowd.

 CROW: Who for some reason were suddenly a lot less intimidated and began to throw bottles at the Acolytes.

 > "All right, girly.  Now your gonna get it."

 MIKE: Amazing!  Never a dull moment!  Sexism AND brutal assault with a deadly misused-homonym in the same line--!

 > A plasma ball formed in my hand.  I turned around.  I took aim.  I got kicked.  I fell down.

 [All cheer in MORE wildly and shout out various bits of encouragement like "I LIKE Flair!" "Go Flair!" and "Render him sterile, Flair!"]

 >        "No one, I mean no one calls me girly," said the voice of Flair.  I leapt up from the ground, and took her down.

 ALL: Boo!!!!!!
CROW: [lewdly] Lemme just demonstrate my trademark Greco-Roman full-torso-schwing hold...
TOM: Oh Crow, no.

 > When she hit the ground, my armor emitted a knock out gas.

 MIKE: [waving his hand] Oh YUCK!!!  Whew!  That does it: no more Mexican Fiesta Night up on Avalon!

 >        "Delgado, take her up on stage, but be careful not to hurt her," I said.

 TOM: [Andrew] I'm figuring I can probably defeat her while she's unconscious, but just to be on the safe side I'm going to wait until we have her thoroughly drugged and wrapped in adamantium chains before I try it.
MIKE: Naaah. Even unconscious, Flair could kick his butt.
CROW: Oooo, I know.  [lovesick sigh]

 > I turned around to see a seventh grader that looked very much like a football player.

 TOM: What, six feet wide at the shoulders and missing most of his teeth?

 >        "Andrew, if your takin' them, then your takin' me."

 MIKE: [Andrew, campily] My, my, they're just comin' out of the woodwork today!  Well, big boy, let me see if I can fit you into my schedule tonight...do you mind overlapping with Rory?
CROW: Mike, if I didn't know better, I'd say that was a MAJOR double entendre.
MIKE: Could be.
CROW: Do I get to snap YOUR beak shut?
MIKE: Oh, sure!  When you get functioning arms, anyway.
CROW: Soooo, in other words, never?
MIKE: Right.
CROW: I hate you.

 > I remembered him from one of my memories of my former life.  He was better to have as a friend than as an enemy.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Not like I'd know, of course, having no friends whatsoever.

 >        "Who's next, Exodus?"  I asked.
>        "Dane Commons."
>        "Well Dane, I guess you can come," I told him.

 TOM: I get it!  "Commons"..."come"!  I get the pun!  Ha ha ha!
MIKE: Er, that was just an accident.  I'm pretty sure Vincent did NOT plan that one.
TOM: Uh.  Oh.  Um.  Why do you have to ruin even the tiniest scrap of pleasure for me, Nelson?

 > "Well, thank you all so very much for your cooperation.  Oh yeah.  If you haven't figured out who I am, I am Andrew Vincent, a would be

 MIKE: ...writer...

 > ninth grader.  So long Sewickley Academy."

 CROW: [campily] He-LLLLOOOOO Vegas!

 >        "Freeze!  This is the police.  Don't move, and nobody gets hurt."

 MIKE:  Hey, look, it's the Stereotype Cops!  I wondered what had happened to them!
TOM: Me too.  I mean, they were by far the most natural, believable part of the first "X."

 >        "Hey Rory, lets see if you can convince this flatscan not to bother us," I said to Rory.

 CROW: [Rory] Ooo!  I could whack him with my Biology textbook!
MIKE: [Andrew] I've changed my mind.  I want a new best friend.

 >        "But Andrew, I don't have any mutant powers," Rory whispered.

 TOM: [Andrew] Yes you do.  Remember that thing you used to do with rubber bands and chocolate pudding and my sister's cat--?  On second thought, let's NOT go there.

 >        "Think stun, close your right eye, and then open it.  Just make sure your looking at the officer," I said.

 MIKE: [suddenly breaks down sobbing] I can't do this...I can't make it...go on without me, fellas...
TOM: Oooooh no you don't, Nelson.  You're along for the ride.  Remember, if you pass out, we'll put this thing on auto-loop and lock you in the theater for a week.
MIKE: You fiend!  You wouldn't--!  Say...you couldn't.
CROW: No, but Mrs. F would if we gave her the idea.

 > As I watched the officer, I could see sweat dripping down his neck.  Next, he slumped to the ground, thanks to Rory's new found mutant powers.

 TOM: [Andrew] Oh, GOOD one, Rory, just spin his brain 360 degrees inside his skull why don't you?

 > "Again, thanks to your cooperation, and so long Sewickley."  I felt my body begin to break down. <SFISCH>

 ALL: [jump in mock fright] AAAH!
CROW: Hey, this is kinda fun.

 >        "Andrew?  No, it couldn't have been,"  whispered a nameless face in the crowd.

 MIKE: [nameless face] I mean, Andrew was this comic-book-reading twerp with delusions of...oh wait.  Yeah, I guess that WAS Andrew.

 > CHAPTER 2

 TOM: The Quickening.

 >        "Welcome back, my lord," said Colossus.

 MIKE: [Colossus] Oh...and you too, Vincent.

 >        "Thank you, Colossus.  These are three good friends of mine.

 CROW: [Andrew] And they're willing to sign papers stating that they haven't been within a continent of Kitty Pryde's nubile young body, so you really don't have to treat them to that charming "Comrade Jealouski" greeting that you've been perfecting, okay?

 > Rory White, Sarah Hylund, and Dane Commons," I replied.

 MIKE: [deep voice] Remember their names, because they WILL be the first against the wall when the revolution comes.

 > "Please give them each a room that is close to mine, and help them design their new costumes.

TOM: Oh sure, like I can really see Colossus as a fashion consultant.
CROW: [in a bad Russian accent] This year, comrades, the "look" is chrome and spandex...then again, chrome and spandex is the look EVERY year, da?

 > I will be along momentarily."

 TOM: [Colossus] Lick me, sir.

 >        "Yes, my lord," responded Colossus.  "Come this way."  As they left, I turned to Exodus.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Then I changed my mind and turned to 2 Samuel 11:2-5, because it's got all those juicy naughty bits about David and Bathsheba.

 >        "Exodus," I said.  "I've been meaning to talk to you.  Oh, hold on one second."  I turned to Degado.

 CROW: Uh...any relation to DELgado?
TOM: I call no spelling flames.
MIKE: Partially because you can't think of a good rip on the misspelling of "invincible" in the next sentence, I bet.
TOM: No, I--  HEY!

 > He looked invinsible, but I knew that he had his Achilles heel.

 MIKE: In a jar on his bookshelf...it was pretty, like, gross 'n' stuff.

 > "Take ...Flair... to her holding cell."

 MIKE: [a la the foppish alien commander in "Plan Nine From Outer Space," complete with languid gestures] Bring...the big one...to me.

 >        "Yes my lord," said Delgado.  He hefted Flair over his

 ALL: AHEM!!!

 > shoulder

 ALL: Oh.  Okay.

 > like Hercules holding the Earth for Atlas.  Earth, what a beautiful place with beautiful literature.

 CROW: Obligatory reference to what Andrew learned in eighth-grade English today...?
MIKE: Check.
TOM: Boy, Flair's gonna be pissed when she finds out what he said about her weight.
CROW: Yeah, but maybe she'll kick his sorry ass again.
TOM: Good point.

 > I turned back to Exodus.
>        "I believe that your rules are too strict here," I said to him.  "This meditation thing has gotten out of hand.

 MIKE: [crotchety old man] You destructive young punks today, with all of that macho meditating crap...why, there oughta be a LAW!

 > And forcing everyone to do what you want them to?  That's insane!

 TOM: [Andrew] That's MY job, you boob!  Now get down on your knees and polish my metal spats with your ponytail.

 > I always thought that Avalon would be a place of fun.  A place where mutants could take advantage of the fact that they were better than the flatscans."

 CROW: A place with a wild mutant orgy every Tuesday and Thursday evening, right after the bowling meet.
MIKE: I'm not sure if I like being called a "flatscan," guys...hmmm.  Hmmmmmm.  Hm.  C'mon, let's take a break.  I wonder...
CROW: Uh oh.  I'm sensing a lecture coming on.
MIKE: Naaah.  More of a challenge.

 [Theater...6...5...4...3...2...1...bridge]

 [The guys are standing around the bridge.  There's an awkward silence which, one feels, has been dragging on for some time.  Both bots seem to be pacing and pondering something in a fidgety way; Mike is loitering over by the irised-open HexField Viewscreen staring out at the stars, utterly serene (one might go so far to say "completely vacant").  Finally...]

 CROW: [hesitantly] Honky?
MIKE: Huh?  Hmmm...no, nothing.
TOM: [even more hesitantly] Cheesehead...?
MIKE: Nope.
CROW: Oh!  I know!  Hooman!
MIKE: Uh-uh.
CROW: [desperate] Skintube?  Ugly bag of mostly water?
MIKE: Negatory, good buddy.  Not even a blip.
TOM: Crow, give up, it's not working.  You just can't do it.  You just can't insult Johnny Whitebread here.
CROW: B-but...you don't understand!  If we give up...

 [Lights begin to flash]

 CROW: ...the sketch ends!
ALL: MOVIE SIGN ALREADY?!?
TOM: Well, that was a waste of good air-time.

 [Bridge...1...2...3...4...5...6...theater]

 >        "My lord, I am just doing what I believe is right," retorted Exodus.

 MIKE: [sitting back down and imitating Andrew] Yes, but was it really necessary to hunt down every Summers in the New York phonebook?

 > "I just want the Acolytes to hold a high respect for you and Lord Magneto and I thought-"

 TOM: [Exodus] --that painting a big purple M on your scrawny chest would help...I mean hell, it worked for the old boss...

 >        "No.  You didn't think.  You acted rashly.

 CROW: You can buy a nice topical ointment for that, you know.

 > Power had turned you against our kind," I said.  "There is another famous man who did that.

 TOM: But enough about Hulk Hogan.

 > If Magneto were in any shape to talk, he would tell you.

 TOM: [Andrew] But seeing as I've broken his jaw for the third time this week...clumsy me, huh?...

 > Magneto hated that man.  He cost his family his life.  Do you know who that man is?

 MIKE: [brightly] No, but if you hum a few bars...
[both bots groan]

 > Hitler. Adolf Hitler."  There was a long an awkward silence.

 [In the ensuing moment of silence, Crow starts whistling "Springtime For Hitler."  Mike thumps him.]

 >        "My Lord," said Exodus.  He seemed to be in deep shock.  No one had ever decided to stand up to him, but I had.  "I'm sorry my Lord."

 MIKE: [Kryten] I shall commit suicide immediately, sir.

 >        "I want things to be a little looser around here.

 CROW: Why?  They already HAVE a "little loser" around there.
TOM: Eh...that's stretching the pun a bit, Crow.

 > From this day forth, there will only be mandatory meditation for one hour on Sundays.

 MIKE: Oh yeah, good idea; that should free up more time for those obligatory "grovelling abjectly at Lord Vincent's feet" sessions.

 >        "I believe that that is a wonderful idea my lord,"  Exodus replied in a rasping voice.

 TOM: ...the sheer monstrosity of the lie he had just uttered stabbing at his throat like a thousand shards of glass...

 > I could tell that he was trying to hold back his displeasure.

 CROW: Probably lunch AND breakfast, too.

 > "I will announce it to the Acolytes during dinner."

 MIKE: [Exodus a la Basil Fawlty] Oh thank you SO bloody much.

 >        "Paris,  I think that you need a vacation too."

 CROW: Andrew should know better than to think that he can convince that workaholic Exodus to take a day off.
MIKE: [sensing a bad pun but obligingly being the straight man] Oh?
CROW: Sure!  After all--
TOM: [snidely] He'll always have Paris.
CROW! HEY!  MIIIIiiiiiiIIIIke, he stole my punchline!

 >        "Thank you, my Lord."

 CROW: C'mon, Exodus!  Take a swing at him!  You KNOW you want to!  He's right THERE, for cryin' out loud!  GO FOR IT!!!
MIKE: Yeah, but y'see, Andrew's the writer.  Exodus knows that if he doesn't play along, he might wind up in a tutu or something.
CROW: Naaaah, that'd be in one of Abyss's stories.
MIKE: Oh, right, I--  Huh?

 >        "Sure thing, Paris.  Anytime."  <SFISCH>

 MIKE: Come on, everyone, join in!  On the count of three: one, two...
ALL & AUDIENCE: AAAH!!!

 > Exodus disappeared, and the air where he had been had turned into flame, and only a black shadow remained, and even a while after that, it was nothing.

 CROW: Does this guy do a great impression of a Hiroshima victim or what?

 [Both Mike and Tom turn to stare at him.  It takes him a moment to notice it, but when he does...]

 CROW: Oh.  Ooops.  Hey, sorry guys, but you know that I sometimes get random power surges in my Political Correctness chip...
MIKE: Look, I'm not a prude or anything, but I think it's about time that we dealt with that.
TOM: Oh good.  I'll get the hacksaw.
CROW: What?  Hey, no, hold on a sec--!

 [Mike picks up Tom, snags Crow in a headlock, and heads out of the theater.]

 6...5...4...3...2...1...SOL

 [Castle Forrester.  A bunch of chairs full of Con-Fab-Ulon attendees are facing us as if they are watching the special "screening." Pearl begins addressing them on an overly loud P.A. set-up.]

 PEARL: Calm down, people, calm down.  [Crowd is silent.]  CALM DOWN!  [Crowd jumps a little, but remains quiet.]  We'll return to our special screening in a moment, but first here is Brain Guy with some fabulous items from our Con-Fab-Ulon auction.
OBSERVER: Thank you, Pearl.  [He is holding a pile of bound scripts.]  Now up for bidding are these rare "one-of-a-kind" scripts that were rejected by major studios.  [He holds up each script, one at a time.]  Here is "Doctor Huh?", "Babylons 1-4," and an episode of "Scooby Doo" where the gang of the Mystery Machine goes into the woods of Maryland looking for a ghost, only to never be heard from again until this special cartoon is recovered some years later.  What do we have for these items?

 [No one raises a bid until Pearl finishes staring at one of the con attendees, who finally raises his hand.]

 [Back up on the SOL, Mike is looking in on the proceedings.  He has Crow jammed beak-first into a vise and is brandishing a rusty handsaw, but he seems to have forgotten what he planned to do with it.  Luckily for Crow.  Tom, however, looks disappointed.]

 MIKE: So, how are things going, Pearl?

 [Castle Forrester.  Bobo is now amongst the crowd at the auction, grabbing people's hands and pulling them up sharply for bids.  Behind the crowd, a young normal looking guy walks in, looks around the Con-Fab-Ulon displays, and then sidles up behind Pearl.]

 PEARL: Not good.  I can't get these bozos to bid on this auction crap.
GUY: [staring over Pearl's shoulder] So that's your guy in space, huh?
PEARL: [annoyed] Yes.
GUY: Where's his little robot friends that make with all the jokes?
PEARL: [looking at him] Do you mind?!?!  [The Guy backs off a little.]  Anyway, Mike, I need you guys to give me some of your stuff to sell.

 [SOL.  Crow has gotten loose and is hovering in the background muttering with Tom.  Both sidle out.]

 MIKE: Our stuff?  Why?  Who'd want our stuff?

 [Castle Forrester.  In the background, Bobo has the Con-Goer2 (Beez) by her ankles and is shaking money from her pockets.]

 PEARL: Well, lots of people would.  You're sciencey and fictiony and have robots and stuff.  Hell, you're in space, you boob!
GUY: [Has moved close behind Pearl's shoulder again] I'd buy something of his.
PEARL: You see, this guy would buy something of yours.  [She realizes the Guy has come closer again and quickly turns to give him a dirty look]

 [SOL.]

 MIKE: Um, well...

 [Crow and Tom return.  Crow is holding a giant red sucker with hair all over it.  Tom is carrying a sweat sock.]

 TOM: Don't worry, Mike, we've got some stuff right here.
CROW: Yeah, I've got this old sucker that turned yucky when NummyMuffin CooCool Butter got hair all over it.
TOM: And I've got a sweat sock that was used on the set of TV's "Buck Rogers."  It was worn either by Gil Gerard or Felix Silla, the little guy in the Twiki costume.
MIKE: [looks at the horrible sock] I didn't know there was a guy in that costume.  I always thought that was a real robot.
CROW: Mike, don't be stupid, there aren't any real robots on television.

 [Crow, Mike and Tom look back and forth between each other for a moment.]

 [Castle Forrester.]

 PEARL: This is the best you can do?  A sock?  I want something of yours!
GUY: Me too.

 [SOL.  Mike is standing in a hole and only the top of his head can be seen over the desk.  Tom can be heard grunting as if he was straining with something heavy off-screen.]

 MIKE: Well, I tore up this piece of the floor where I like to stand.  [Holds up nonchalant piece of wood with footprints stenciled onto it.]  I didn't realize it was covering a hole in the deck.

 [There is a tearing sound then Tom comes into view again.]

 TOM: Here we go.  [He holds up an odd-shaped plastic thing.]
CROW: What's that?
TOM: I dunno, just something I pulled off the wall over there.
MIKE: Hey, you can do that?
TOM: Yep, just popped right off like it was hot glued there or something.

 [Castle Forrester.]

 GUY: Hey, nifty, how much for that piece of wood you were standing on?
PEARL: [Turns on the guy and grabs him by the throat] Look, nosey, who are you and what do you want?
GUY: I'm Andrew Vincent -- really!.  I came for your convention.
PEARL: The Andrew Vincent?
ANDREW: Yeah, I heard you were going to be showing that story of mine to your little robots and I thought I'd come down to see what it was all about.
PEARL: [Quickly, an evil grin appears on her face.] Bobo, Brain Guy, this is Andrew, make him comfy!

 [Bobo and the Observer show up on either side of Andrew and grab him by the shoulders.  They lead him off making "Grrr" noises at him.]

 ANDREW: Oh, hey, thank you kindly!
PEARL: [laughs maniacally] Oh, you are evil, Pearl -- twelve pounds of evil in a ten-pound bag.  HA HA HA HA!!!

 [SOL.]

 CROW: Wow, the real Andrew Vincent.  Who'd have guessed?
TOM: I'm still wondering why Pearl wants this stuff.  I mean, who would want to buy our old junk?
MIKE: Yeah, that's about as plausible as the ship plummeting to Earth and the three of us getting a garden-level apartment in Wisconsin together.

 [At this they all three stare at each other for another long moment of silence.]

 CROW: [as Homer Simpson] Mmmmm...foreshadowing.

 [Lights start flashing.]

 ALL: Movie Sign!  Augh!!!!

 [Bridge...1...2...3...4...5...6...theater]

 > "Computer, teleport me to the location of Flair."
>        "Yes, my lord," replied the computer.

 CROW: [computer] Obsequious-answer circuit...smoking...can't...hold on much longer...

 >        I snuck towards the holding cell of Flair.  All around me was the high tech secutiry systems of Avalon.

 TOM: [one security system] Hey!  Check it out, in the jail block!  Isn't that Vincent?
CROW: [another security system] Oh, just ignore him.  He thinks he's sneaking.  It's so pathetic, I just don't have the heart to sic the dogs on him.

 > No one dared to enter this place without proper security clearance, which was something that I didn't have.

 MIKE: Oh sure, he's Lord Of All He Surveys EXCEPT For The Jail Block.

 > I walked right up to the first szecurity camera,

 TOM: Hmmm.  East European design, I see.  So this whole station should be plummeting Earthwards within the week, huh?

 > grasped it, and threw it to the ground.  I jumped past the motion sensors,

 ALL: Hi-keeba!

 > for I was the only one who knew where they're blind spots were.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Because I was the one who stuck wads of gum on the lenses.  Take THAT, Authority!  ...No, wait, I AM Authority up here.  Rats.

 >        "Wh...who is it?"  asked Flair.
>        "It's me, Andrew."
>        "Get lost."

 CROW: [happy sigh] Forget Estelle, Mike, I'm in love all over again.  Flair, baby--!

 >        "No, wait.  I'm here to tell you

TOM: ...about specialty breads!

 > that we're breakin' out of here. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come."

 [Crow cheerfully opens his mouth to fire off an innuendo which would bump this story's rating from G to at least PG-13.  Mike lunges over just in time to snap his beak shut.]

 >        "You?  Breaking out of here?  Why?  They worship you here."

 MIKE: Yeah, he already told us that on the first page. And I STILL feel dirty.

 >        "So what.  You don't like it here, and neither do the others, so I just wanted to help."

 TOM: [steamingly intense] Never mind the fact that HE DRAGGED THEM THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE...

 >        "Why would you want to help me, after I punched you in the face?"

 CROW: [Andrew] Oh, naw, no prob -- that kind of thing turns me on.  Hit me again!

 >        "Why are you even listening to me after I brought you here, or called you 'girly'?"
>        "Well.....I...."

 MIKE: ..."Have a thing for uberpowered megalomaniacal fourteen-year-olds"?
TOM: ..."Am on the wrong page of the script"?
CROW: ..."Am only doing this until I can get a decent part in a REAL fanfic series"?
TOM: ..."Was a heavily-bearded male lumberjack until about three months ago"?
MIKE: ..."Plan to play along until I can get my hands around your spinal cord"?
ALL: You decide.

 >        "No time to stutter, are you with us?"

 CROW: [Flair] Y-ye-y-y-ye--
MIKE: [Andrew] Hah!  Too late!  Out the airlock with you!

 >        "Yes, I am."
>        "Then stand back."  As Flair stepped into the corner,

 TOM: [Flair] Ahem!  Do you mind?  Can't a girl have a little privacy?

 > I formed a plasma ball in my hand.  I pulled my arm back, and let go.

 MIKE: The plasma ball thus fell straight down and blew a hole in the deck plating, sucking them both out into the unforgiving void to die agonizing deaths.

 > When the smoke cleared, there where no bars.

 CROW: And no Flair.
TOM: [Andrew] Ooops.

 > "Come with me.  We break out of here in one week.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Here's a spoon.  Start digging.

 > If you just act like you aren't mad any more, we won't get any questions.  Do you mind?"

 CROW: [Flair] Er...I have to pretend that I LIKE you?  For a WEEK?  What do YOU think, Einstein?  I'd rather be Delgado's ponygirl.  Put me back in my cell, please.

 >        "No," said Flair.  "And thanks Andrew."

 MIKE: [Flair] Oh, no, wait, that's a stage direction...ewww, I most certainly will NOT!

 > CHAPTER 3

 TOM: The Final Conflict.

 >        Knock knock.

 ALL: [boredly] Who's there?
CROW: Hero.
MIKE & TOM: Hero who?

 > "Hey, Rory, can I come in?" I asked.

 [general groan]
CROW: Well, I tried, okay?

 > I was standing outside of his room.  After designing it himself, I wanted to see what it was like.

 MIKE: Wall-to-wall Astroturf!
CROW: Edible everything!
TOM: A jacuzzi filled with water from Spring-Of-Drowned-Penthouse-Model!

 > The door opened.
>        "Hey Andrew," said Rory.  "Come on in."

 CROW: [Andrew] Not until you take off the makeup and put on some pants, man.

 > His room had a deep blue carpet on the floor.  The walls were painted ice blue, and they had posters hung on them.

 TOM: [Andrew] Good lord, there must be like a hundred pictures of the Backstreet Boys in here.  Rory, are you thinking about killing yourself again?

 > They were posters of familiar faces.  Faces of people that I knew.  They weren't photos, they were drawings.

 MIKE: Oh, niiiice work Rory!  Stick figures with breasts!  Have you ever thought of submitting your work to Image?

 > "You like?"
>        "Who...who are these people?" I asked.

 CROW: Well, that's Slutty Spice, and that's Skanky Spice, and that's Transgendered Spice...

 > I saw a picture of a mansion.  I knew that place.

 TOM: [Andrew] 1313 Mockingbird Lane...?  That's it!  I remember who I am!  I'm Eddie Munster!

 >        "Come on, Andrew.  They're the X-Men.

 MIKE: [Rory] And you're not.
CROW: [Andrew] Am so!
MIKE: [Rory] Are not are not are not!
CROW: [Andrew] I'm telling!  MOOOOOM!!!

 > And that reminds me.  I've been wanting to ask you something."

 CROW: Heart-breakingly romantic soap-opera music crescendoes in the background as Rory gazes into Andrew's liquid eyes and...
TOM: Can it, Goldenrod.

 > I put my hand up so that he would stop talking.

 TOM: Hey!  Good idea!  Think that'll work?
MIKE: Lessee--
[Mike firmly raises his hand palm-first towards the screen]

 > I had heard of the X-Men.

 [All sigh -- Mike lets his arm fall back into his lap]
TOM: Well, it was worth a shot.

 > My mind told me that I knew these people.

 TOM: But heck, why should I listen to a total stranger?
CROW: We used that one last time, Servo.
TOM: It still applies.

 > "What's wrong."  I didn't answer.  I just ran my fingers across the posters.

 MIKE: The one of Rogue...over and over...oh yessss...
CROW: Now cut that out!  What is it with you two stealing MY punchlines today?

 > "Anyway, I want to ask you, why didn't you follow your dream?

 TOM: [announcer voice] Yes, tonight only in a limited engagement aboard the spacestation Avalon, it's "The Fanboy Of La Mancha"!  [bursting into dramatic song]  I am I, Andrew Vincent...
CROW: [warbling along in harmony a la Sancho] I'm Rory, yes Iiii'm Rory...

 > As a kid, you said that if you ever got mutant powers, you would join the X-Men."

 MIKE: [Andrew] No, I said that I would join the Harlem Globetrotters.  Get it straight!

 >        'join the X-Men......

 ALL: Eat at Joe's...

 > join the X-Men......

 ALL: Eat at Joe's...

 > join the X-Men'

 ALL: Eat at Joe's...

 > Those words ran through my head.  Memories flooded into my mind.

 CROW: [Andrew] Ouchie ouchie ouch!  Mommy, make it stop!

 > Memories of playing football with an extra-ordinary group of people.  Memories of a land of dinosaurs, and a man named Sinister.

 TOM: Used-car salesman Bob Sinister, that is.  Funny how many people get the two of them mixed up.

 > Memories of dying.  Memories of being born.

 CROW: In that order?  No wonder he's screwed up.

 > Memories of hearing about the great battles between Magneto and his Acolytes.

 TOM: [announcer voice] Magneto and the Acolytes!  Live on stage, this week ONLY!  Call Ticketmaster for details!
MIKE: Any relation to Jem and the Holograms?
CROW: Similar fashion sense, perhaps.

 > The theme from the twilight zone played through my head, and I hit the floor.

 TOM: [Andrew] Then I kicked a wall and savaged the hell out of a sofa, just because.

 > * * * * *

 TOM & CROW: NO TRIBBLE JOKES!!!
MIKE:  [innocent bewilderment]  What?  What did I do?

 >        Light flooded into my eyes.  Four shadowy figures were in my scope of vision.

 TOM: [Death] EXCUSE ME, SON, CAN YOU TELL US HOW TO GET TO THE APOCALYPSE?

 > I knew that they were friends, and that I had brought them to my enemies home.  Home.  It was time that I went home.  With my friends. To the X-Men.  BOOOOM!!!

 MIKE: Disjointed.  Dialogue.  Finally pushed the reader too far.  Head exploded.  OW!!!

 > An explosion rocked Avalon.  "Guys," I said, then Flair shot me a look that could have turned Medusa to stone,

 CROW: [Andrew] Oh all right: "Guys AND bitch."
MIKE & TOM: AHEM!!!!!!

 > "and girls. We've gotta get out of here.

 TOM: [Dr. Scott] Before zis...decadence...szaps...our wills...

 > I think that the mutant that Exodus and Colossus found out in space just woke up.

 CROW: [Andrew] Now remember, you lot, you don't need realistic mutant powers to take a bullet for me.  Oh, Rory, stop cowering and get moving, you big wussy-boy.  AHEAD of me.  Thaaaaat's a good little sycophant....

 > There's an escape pod down the hall."
>        BOOOOM!!!

 MIKE: [Andrew] Oh.  Uh, no, never mind.

 >        "Where's Sarah?" shouted Rory.  The computer gave him his answer.

 CROW: [computer] Up yours, sir.  I've been wanting to say that for months.

 >        "She is in sector 4-B," said the computer.

 MIKE: [exaggeratedly whiny Luke] But Haaaaan, they're gonna EX-ecute her!

 >        "I'm not leaving without her," shouted Rory.

 CROW: [Rory] Or at least her arm...

 > Does fate deal you strange twists or what?

 MIKE: Huh.  Yeah, I keep getting "right tentacle orange" on the spinner.
TOM: [muttering] I wish fate would deal him a blow to the head.

 > Not only did I end up picking up two hot-headed mutants, but they just had to have a thing for each other, didn't they.

 TOM: [flatly] Oh, that wild, wacky Rory.  Simply refuses to leave a helpless teenaged girl to die in the vacuum of space.  What a card.

 >        BOOOOM!!!
>        "Fine.  You go after her.  Take this communicator with you," I said.

 MIKE: [Andrew] And keep it out of your mouth this time!  One emergency tracheotomy a month is enough!

 > Rory ran off down the main corridor.  I heard the sound of shattering glass.

 CROW: Ooo!  Rory just did his "kamikaze pigeon" impression RIGHT through the nearest observation portal.

 > "NOOOOOOO!!"  As I watched the window, I saw Flair slowly being dragged to a cold and airless death.

 TOM: I sat back with some popcorn and watched the show.

 > I leapt towards her. Her arm stretched towards my hand.  The cold possessed me.  I grasped at her hand.  I missed.

 CROW: I did manage to grab something else, though.
MIKE: [Butthead] Uhhh...huhuhuh...did I just score?

 > A blur of silver flashed in front of me.  Flair stood up, and started to walk towards me.

 TOM: Excuse me, is that a Bugle Boy space suit you're wearing?

 > I grasped her hand, this time I didn't let go.

 MIKE: [in his best Wonder Years voice] It was at that moment I felt closest to Flair.  There would be other exploding asteroids and mysterious silver flashes, but this one was special to us, and would remain in our memories forever...

 > The silver blur passed in front of my face again.

 TOM: [Andrew] Tinkerbell, beat it!  I'm trying to score here!

 > "Flair, are you all right?" I asked.  It was clear that there was affection in my voice.

 CROW: Or maybe it was just the bulge in my--
MIKE: Okay, that's enough.
[Mike hastily jams a shoe into Crow's beak -- much robotic gagging occurs under the next line]

 >        "No time for that now, lover boy," shouted Dane.  "I'm the one that saved her life.

 TOM: And to the victor go the spoils, eh?  Nudge nudge wink wink.

 [Crow finally manages to hack out the shoe]

 CROW: Now that was just plain uncalled for.  Phhhew, Nelson -- ever heard of Odor-Eaters?
MIKE: You don't have a sense of smell.
CROW: No, but I CAN corrode.

 > Now let's get the hell out of here."

 TOM: Good call, Dane!  We've been saying the same thing for hours!

 >        "Thanks for saving my life, Dane," said Flair.  "Now lets go."

 MIKE: We've got bad characterization, mysterious silver blurs, powers out the wazoo, it's 2,000 miles to the ground and we're wearing spandex.  Hit it.

 > I was jealous!.  I can't believe it!  Me?  Jealous?

 TOM: [Andrew] Humble?  Balanced?  Sane?  These thoughts ran through my head as I ripped out Dane's spleen...

 > I guess so.  I guess that I really liked Flair.  But why was I jealous of Dane?

 CROW: [Andrew, snuffling] I-I thought Dane L-LOVED me--!

 > Just because he impressed Flair?  Who knows?  Who cares, at the moment.  BOOOOM!!!

 ALL: ALL RIGHT!  ENOUGH ALREADY!

 >        "The ceiling is caving in," I shouted.

 TOM: No, that's the readers' suspension of disbelief!  RUN!!!

 > "And we have to get to the escape pod."  I saw Rory rushing down the hall, carrying Sarah in his arms.

 MIKE: [Rory] Oh pllleeeeeease can I keep it?  I promise to clean its cage every day...

 >        "She's unconscious.  Lets go," shouted Rory.

 CROW: [Rory] She's lots more fun this way!

 > Once in the pod, I took over the controls.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Remember, I'M the god.

 > We were all jolted back into our seats as we launched out of Avalon.

 ALL: [a la the Dukes Of Hazzard] WHEEEEE-HAH!!!

 > I saw Dane slump down in his seat, unconscious. That 7g force will do that to you.

 TOM: About 3 G's after it KILLS you, anyway...

 > Rory passed out next.  I was after him.

 MIKE: Sounds like a good idea to me.
CROW: I've been trying do that for the past ten minutes, myself.

 > To Be Continued...

 MIKE: What, did Andrew's "BOOOOM" budget run out?
CROW: No boom today.  Boom tomorrow.  There's always a boom tomorrow.

 > Andrew "FaBoO" Vincent
> [email protected]

 TOM: Ah, the public peril presented by a teenaged boy with a free school account and spare time on his hands...a poignant reminder as to what was GOOD about child labor.

 > Well, here's some more of X2, the Mutant Legacy.  I'm still writing more, but you have to wait awhile.  I've got school.

 CROW: Say!  For once, the American educational system has come through!  Huzzah!

 > Well, if you've got and comments(Example: Great Story!!  I Love it!!),

 TOM: I hate to break this to him, but not even the real-life Rory is gonna tell him that.

 > problems (Example: Man, you suck!!  I used the same story line!!),

 MIKE: Ummm...I'd rather bleed into my keyboard.

 > or suggestions (I think that you should kill someone),

 TOM: Yeah, yourself.
MIKE: [scolding] Tom!
TOM: Sorry, sorry, it just kinda snuck out...Crow's really rubbing off on me, I guess.  [tiny voice]  But, uh, Mike?
MIKE: Yeah?
TOM: [wail of anguish] THE FANFIC!  IT HURTS--!
MIKE: [puts and arm around Servo to steady him]  I know, Tom.  I know.  Hang in there.
CROW: [warningly]  If you two are considering a group hug, I am outta here.

 > E-Mail me. [email protected]
> -Andrew "FaBoO" Vincent

 TOM: [singing] United States Panama Mexico Canada...
CROW: Wrong Warner.

 > CHAPTER 6

 TOM: Whoa!  Whoa!  WHOA!  Wait a minute!  Back up!  What happened to chapters four and five?
MIKE: [looking back through the story] Saaay, you're right.  I guess they just weren't archived.
TOM: [fervently] Halleluia!  There IS a God!  I have SEEN the LIGHT!  I shall never doubt again!

 >        "We've been waiting here forever," said Rory.  "I've aged at least one hundred years."

 TOM: [Rory, crotchety] Dangnabbit!

 >        "Rory, we've been waiting here for five minutes," said Flair. "You're not going to die if we wait for ten more minutes.

 CROW: [Rory] We only have ten minutes worth of air total, you gum-popping bimbo.

 > Where did Andrew say he was going, Sarah?"

 MIKE: [Sarah] To the little fanboys' room, I think.

 >        "He didn't say.  All he said was to wait here for him."

TOM: [Andrew] No, no!  I said stay here, and make sure he doesn't leave!
MIKE: [Rory] He doesn't come back soon, I suggest we send up Flair...oh wait, we've been sending up Flair for the entire fanfic.

 >        The air is cool, which is unusual for the Grand Cayman island.

 MIKE: It's usually sub-arctic, you know.

 > The soft sound of waves is relaxing, and the sky is lit by a full moon,

TOM: For the love'a God, Discharge, put your pants back on!
MIKE: Didn't we already do the Obligatory Discharge Riff?
CROW: Sure, but this one's to mark the fact that despite all the hype in the original X, poor ol' Discharge has apparently been left completely out of X2.
MIKE: Ah.  [beat]  This is a bad thing?

 > and all of the stars are visible.

 CROW: [Minnewegian accent] Ooooh, it's getting too scientific for me here.

 > I was told to wait here for some one.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Oh, wait, 12 PM?  I thought I was supposed to meet him at 12 *AM*...!

 > I had been standing in the same spot for five minutes now, and I have seen nothing yet.

 TOM: As that someone had, prudently, gone as far away from that spot as was humanly possible...
CROW: [Andrew] Then I remember: I'm wearing a blindfold.

 > As I watched the stars, I saw three of them, moving slowly towards me.

 MIKE: [Andrew] It vaguely occurred to me to move out of the way...

 > Two of the lights were red, and one was yellow.

 CROW: [Andrew] And I thought, WOW!  Where's that camcorder?  I'm gonna be on ALIEN AUTOPSY!

 > My eyes flashed green, and I disappeared to the naked eye.

 MIKE: Unfortunately, three mid-sized sedans and a Winnebago thought the green flash was the "go" signal.

 > As the light grew closer, I could see the faint outline of an airplane.  I formed a plasma ball in my hand

 MIKE: Unfortunately, I forgot to take my hand out of my pants-pocket first, and...
CROW: MIKE!  [pause]  Well, THAT was different.

 > and prepared for battle.

 TOM: [Andrew] *I'M* the only hero in the story!  MEMEMEMEMEMEME!

 > The plane landed, and I saw a figure emerge from the plane.

 MIKE: Right, now... [thumbs through an imaginary handbook] ...it's time for the Obligatory Ally Battle, right?

 > The person was covered by darkness.

 MIKE: [Andrew] And I got really mad.  I'M Shadow, dammitall!
CROW: Hey, finally a realistic description--  What?  Oh, I thought it said "dorkness."  Never mind.
TOM: [haughtily] You know, continuously bagging on the author is the sign of a weak mind.
CROW: Mind?  What mind?  Mine leaked out through my ears back around chapter two.

 > A slight gust of wind made me lose my concentration, and I became visible for a few seconds.

 TOM: [snort] Oh, yeah, GREAT power there.  "Oh look!  EEEK!  AIR!  Ooops!"

 > The figure saw me, and started over towards me.

 TOM: [dramatically] His eyes met mine...the world stopped...our lips met...
MIKE & CROW: AHEM!

 > I launched the plasma ball towards the figure.

 MIKE: Gee, just imagine how he greets his ENEMIES.

 > There was a blinding explosion, and when the smoke cleared, there was nothing there.

 CROW: At least whoever it was died laughing.  Plasma balls, indeed!

 > 'Man.  I didn't think that I had enough fire power to disintegrate the guy,' I thought.

 TOM: [Andrew] I was just planning to cripple him a little, maybe disembowel him a bit...oh, whatever.

 > Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

 MIKE: Excuse me, do you have any Grey Poupon?

 > I turned around, and saw the familiar face of Gambit.

 CROW: What?!  That does it, I'm killing myself.  Don't try to stop me.
MIKE: No, wait, didn't this guy boot Andrew's tuckus around the block in the first one?
CROW: Oh.  Yeah.  Right.  Okay, I guess I can live a little longer.  [beat]  Say, weren't you guys going to stop me from killing myself?
TOM: Buddy, we're on the verge of chugging that ol' poisoned Kool-Aid ourselves.

 >        "What are you tryin' to do, kill da rescuers?" asked Gambit.

 CROW: Naaaah, if that were the case I'd just buy a cat and set out some inhumane mousetraps.
[Tom & Mike both make low "ooo, that's evil" sounds]

 >        "Well...I...um," I stuttered.  "I didn't know it was you, okay.

 TOM: [Andrew] If I'd known it was you, I would have wet my spandex and run away.  As it stands right now, running away isn't really an option, so...got any paper towels?

 > You could have at least brought a flashlight with you so that I could see you."

 MIKE: The Great and Mighty Shadow has no night vision whatsoever, you see.
TOM: Uh...huh.

 >        "Fine.  Here are four airplane tickets, and four passports," said Gambit.

 CROW: [Gambit] Bon voyage-ee!  Have fun in Croatia!

 >        "Why don't you just fly us out of here in the Blackbird?" I asked.

 MIKE: [Gambit] There jus' ain't enough room for you AND my ego.  Sorry.

 >        "Nah.  That's too easy.

 ALL: [groan in pain]
TOM: Why us?  WHY US?!  Why do you hate us so?!?

 > I'll see you later."
>        "Later Gambit," I said as he walked away.  The warmth from the jet engines was a pleasant surprise.  It stole away the cool air.

 MIKE: No, wait, Gambit already did that.

 > I grasped the tickets in my left hand, and started to go through the passports as I walked back towards the airport.

 TOM: [Andrew] Hmm.  Who the blazes are Mr. Hilter, Heinrich Bimmler, Ron Vibbentrop, and Norman McGoering?

 > The first passport had my name and statistics in it.  'They must have gotten that from Cerebro,' I thought.

 CROW: Shyeah, or from the tag his mom put on his underoos.

 > I opened the next passport.  It was made out for Rory.  'How did they know his name?'

 MIKE: [Andrew] I mean, sheesh, he's a nobody!  I can see how they'd know MY name, seeing as everyone does of course.  Did I mention that they worship me as a god up-- [Crow kicks him in the shin] --ow!

 > As I read on, it also had the correct birth date and legal status.

 TOM: Wanted: Dead Or Dead.

 > I flipped through the other passports.  Each passport was made out perfectly to each person.

 MIKE: Dane's a midget Communist goat-herder from Jamaica?  Wow!  I didn't know that!

 > The only problem was it didn't have Flair's real name in her passport.

 TOM: [dripping with sarcasm] Oh, good luck explaining THAT to Customs.  I can just see it now -- "Hi, we're [breaking into the tune of "Horse With No Name"] Rory White, Andrew Vincent, and the Girl With No Name..."
CROW: Maybe they can pass her off as "the artist formerly known as Flair."

 > 'How did they know who was on my team, or what they were like?' I thought.

 MIKE: Could it possibly be that you're as predictable as a two-headed coin?

 > 'This is impossible.  No, wait, they have three or four telepaths, so they must have been going around in my head.'

 CROW: And around and around and around...
TOM: Pity those telepaths, guys.  Pity them.

 > That fact didn't make me feel any better, but I didn't have any more time to think,

 MIKE: It's a little late for that anyway, wouldn't you agree?

 > because I had arrived at the airport.  "Hey all," I said.  Flair, Rory, and Sarah did not look pleased.  "Uh oh, what'd I do?" I asked.

 CROW: [Sarah] You came back alive.

 >        "Oh, nothing much," said Rory.  "You just made us wait here for about 45 minutes."
>        "What you were doing had better be good, Andrew," said Sarah.

 MIKE: Sure was.  Her name was Mindi -- rrrrowr.
CROW: Nelson!  Not fair!

 >        "Well, it was.  I got us each a passport, and tickets to New York," I said.  "That good enough?"

 TOM: [Rory] No.  Where's our damn pizza?

 >        Flair grabbed the tickets out of my hand.  After examining them for about three seconds, she exclaimed,

 MIKE: [Flair] Gee, I wish I'd learned how to read!

 > "Yes!!!  They're first class tickets!!" she threw her arms around me.  "I love this guy!"

 CROW: [brokenly] Oh...Flair...how could you...?
TOM: Say, imagine what she'd do for tickets to "Phantom."
CROW: SHUT UP!  JUST SHUT UP!

 > Sarah grabbed the tickets.

 MIKE: [falsetto] Ha-ha!  Lilith Fair, here I...HEY!
CROW: Oooo, Sarah baby, you can grab MY tickets anytime!

 >        "We'd better hurry," she said.  "The plane leaves in fifteen minutes."

 TOM: This plane is leaving in fifteen minutes.  Be on it.  [beat]  Wait, wait, rewind, that didn't come out right at ALL.

 >        "I knew that waiting here wasn't pointless," said Rory.  "I had all the patience in the world.

 MIKE: Rory has learned the First Rule of Fanfic Survival: Suck Up To The Author's Avatar Like There's No Tomorrow.

 > I told these two that Andrew was doing something good, but they just couldn't wait-"

 TOM: [Flair] Bladders the size of kumquats, I swear...

 >        "Oh sure, Rory," said Sarah.  "Who was it that wanted to go back to the hotel after five minutes, huh?"

 CROW: Rory--!  You sly dog you!

 >        "Well, I...um..well," said Rory.

 MIKE: [Rory] But guuuuuys, we're missing the eight o'clock showing of "Starlight Express"!

 >        "It doesn't matter guys," I said.  "I got the passports and the tickets, so let's get to the plane.  They might be boarding us now, since we're first class."

 CROW: Only in your wildest dreams, Vincent.

 >        "I love this guy!" said Flair.

 MIKE: Hey!  Didn't she just say the *exact same line* a few paragraphs before?
TOM: Yeah!  Somebody kick Flair, she's stuck!

 [Crow can't stand it any more.  He starts bawling.]

 MIKE: Crow, c'mon, she's not real...Crow?  [sigh]
CROW: [in great hiccuping sobs] But...Mike...she...she was so perfect...oh my sweet Shadow-trashing angel...how could she, Mike?  How COULD she?
TOM: She can't help it, buddy -- remember, she's a mere character, dancing to the tune of a twisted adolescent mind.  Let it go.

 > The sea breeze had started up again, and a shiver went down my spine, like I had left unfinished business on the island.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Now what could...oh my GOD!  I left the baby in the oven!

 > I ignored the feeling.  We started towards the doors of the airport, and prepared to board our plane home.

 TOM: Hey, why not?  He's already "board" the readers.

 > * * * * *
>        "Right this way sir," said the flight attendant.  Once outside, we walked towards the plane.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Val-U-Jet?  I think LeBeau's trying to tell me something.

 > The breeze seemed to be less retrained now, and more free than it had been when I met Gambit.

 TOM: [Andrew, campy] Nothing would ever be the same again.  I was in love, and I wanted to let the whole gosh darn world know!

 > I couldn't see my friends, but I felt their presence around me.

 CROW: HEY!  Watch the hands, Rory!

 > There were men with flashlights, guiding us through the darkness towards the plane.  As we boarded, we sat down in the cushioned leather seats.

 TOM: Wow, I've never seen an airline seat with some many protective straps and belts...um, they're a little tight, could you loosen...hey, whoa, isn't that a syringe...?

 > I sat down in the window seats, and Flair sat down beside me.

 CROW: [almost foaming at the mouth] Harlot!  Jezebel!  Traitoress!
TOM: [alarmed] Hey hey now, Crow, calm down...

 > Rory sat down on the aisle seat, and Sarah sat at the other window seat.

 MIKE: Rory changed his mind and climbed into the overhead compartment and started to take off his clothing with his teeth.

 >        "Andrew, I owe you big for this," said Rory.
>        "Is there anything I can get you?" asked the stewardess.

 TOM: [Rory] A noose would be nice, but a straight-razor will do.

 >        "No, we're fine, thanks," said Sarah.  I looked around my seat, and saw a video screen.  It seemed as though there was a screen per seat.

 CROW: So many things to break, so little time...

 >        "Hey guys, check out the video screens!" I said.  They all reached down, and pulled them out of their arm rests.

 [Tom makes a ripping sound]
MIKE: [gasp!]  It's nothing but UPN!  Shoot us!  Shoot us now!

 >        "Yes, those screens show free movies," said a stewardess.

 CROW: [as the stewardess, brightly]  There's one catch -- we only show movies starring dead Saturday Night Live alumni.

 > She had obviously over heard what we were saying.

 TOM: [stewardess] If I catch you brats trying to catch snippets of the Spice Channel when my back is turned, I'm going to turn this plane right around, you hear?

 >        "Thanks," I murmured.  I felt the jet start to move.  "Well, say goodbye to the Cayman Islands."

 ALL: [dutifully] Goodbye to the Cayman Islands.
MIKE: [stretches and yawns mightily] Well!  That was certainly thrilling.  And speaking of thrilling, let's go see what Pearl's up to, shall we?
CROW: [sarcastically] Real smooth segue there, Nelson.
MIKE: It's either that or start screaming in the key of C sharp.
TOM: The man has a point.  Out!

 [Theater...6...5...4...3...2...1...bridge]

 [SOL bridge.  Tom is sitting alone on the desk reading a copy of the "Star Wars Episode One Visual Dictionary."]

 TOM: Hmm, so R2-D2 can scoot around on little booster jets.  Wonder where they got that idea?  [He shifts back and forth on his hoverskirt]
CROW: [entering] Tom, Tom, check it out, I took some of the money that Pearl gave us for that Digger Smolken album and bought some "Episode 1" action figures!
TOM: Whoa!  Who'd you get, that awesome kick-ass Darth Maul figure?
CROW: No, he's pulling down $100 on the black market.  They didn't have him on eToys.
TOM: Oh, then maybe one of those bitchin' Destroyer Droids?  [Makes guns sounds] Bew!  B-chew!
CROW: [Sets down two figures and a COMMTech reader] No, some the cool figures are really hard to find.  All I could get was Darth Sidious, Chancellor Valorum, and one of those things that makes them talk.
TOM: Darth Sidious, eh?  Does he do anything?
CROW: He stands there with his hands folded and looks menacing.
TOM: He's a Sith Lord, right?  Doesn't he have a lightsaber or something?
CROW: Nope, he just stands there.  Chancellor Valorum has a stick.
TOM: Does it shoot anything?
CROW: No, I think it's ceremonial.
TOM: Huh, so he's just another old guy then.
CROW: Pretty much.

 [The camera closes in on the two figures standing quietly.  Crow and Tom maneuver around behind them and duck down looking at them at eye level.]

 TOM: Hey, make them talk with the thing.
CROW: Okay.  [He puts Darth Sidious on the COMMTech reader]
SIDIOUS FIGURE: [the voice is grating and electronic] Wipe them out, all of them.
TOM: He sounds like Darth Speak 'n' Spell.

 [Mike enters carrying a large bowl of Extreme Rice that he's eating.]

 MIKE: Hey, cool, General Zod!  [Picks up the Chancellor Valorum figure]  "Why do you say this to me, when you know I will KILL you for it!"

 [Crow and Tom just stare at him for a moment while he laughs nervously.  Suddenly, the SOL shakes violently.]

 MIKE: Cambot, give me Rocket Number 9!

 [Exterior shot of the SOL.  A spherical ship resembling a small Death Star with tail fins has pulled up alongside the SOL.  Back on the bridge, the HexField Viewscreen opens to reveal the shadowy robed figure of Darth Sidious (played by Paul Chaplin).]

 MIKE, CROW & TOM: Darth Sidious!
SIDIOUS: You don't have to be so formal, you can call me Sid if you want.
MIKE: What about "Palpatine"?

 [Sidious raises his hands and there is a flash of light and the sound of electricity.  Mike yells, throws rice everywhere, and falls behind the desk.]

 SIDIOUS: I sensed a disturbance in the Force, as if marketing had failed and you didn't enjoy my action figure.
TOM: Well, he doesn't have a lot of "action" does he?
CROW: Yeah.
SIDIOUS: It accurately recreates my role in the movie.  I am the "Phantom Menace," quietly scheming in the background.
TOM: But you're a Sith Lord, you should be able to do something exciting.
SIDIOUS: Well, it's only the first movie.  I'll be more "involved" in Episode II and Episode III.

 [Mike has pulled himself up from the floor.  He is comically "burned."]

 MIKE: That's when you start becoming the Emperor, right?

 [Sidious raises his arms again; Mike gets defiant.]

 MIKE: Your power is weak, old man!

 [Sidious blasts Mike again.]

 MIKE: If you strike me down, I shall only grow stronger.

 [A second quick zap from Sidious.  This time Mike falls in such a way that his smoking sneakers can still be seen above the desk.]

 TOM: So, Sid, what's the deal with the voice chips?
SIDIOUS: Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design, but I really had nothing to do with the voicechips.
CROW: Hey, we don't blame you.  Being a Sith Lord and all, it must be hard to schedule things like voice-overs for toys.
SIDIOUS: Yeah, but the hours are good, and you get a lot of time for evil planning.
TOM: I bet.

 [Mike has pulled himself off the floor again.  This time he seems oblivious to their visitor's presence.]

 MIKE: Hey, did you guys see that episode of "Farscape" where the little Muppet guy pees napalm?

 [Sidious, Crow and Tom all stare at him for a second.]

 MIKE: What?
CROW: You don't get it, do you, Mike?
SIDIOUS: Now, young Nelson, you will die!

 [Sidious starts zapping the crap out of Mike.  He falls across the desk, writhing in pain.]

 MIKE: Pearl, help me, aarrgghh!!!!

 [Castle Forrester.  Pearl and Brain Guy are gathered around a hole in the floor surrounded by orange lights.  Dry ice smoke pours from it.  Bobo is holding the limp body of Andrew Vincent near the mouth of the hole and a little pig-man is speaking with Pearl.]

 PIG-GUY: [Patrick Brantseg] Grunt, gork, snerk!
PEARL: Well, he's no good to me dead!
OBSERVER: I'm sorry, Mike, but Pearl is trying to work out a deal to carbon freeze Andrew Vincent.  She can't fight your battles for you.
BOBO: Having trouble beating up an old man, Mike?  Ook!

 [SOL.  No more Force lightning as the HexField closes.  Crow and Tom wander back to Mike who is spread out over his desk, his jumpsuit burned and smoking.]

 TOM: There, Mike, Crow and I gave Sidious some crossword puzzles and closed the HexField.  Feel better?
MIKE: [weakly] Help me take this jumpsuit off...
CROW: Ewww!

 [Commercial Sign lights flash.  Fade out to Logo Ball as the sound of jumpsuit-grafted-to-flesh ripping away from flesh is heard.]

 [Commercial: That hideous banshee from the Old Navy ads coyly proclaims that She Is Sci-Fi.  Your TV set promptly explodes.  You may only continue reading this MSTing if you have a second cable-equipped TV or are willing to break into your neighbors' place to use theirs.]

 [Fade back into the SOL theater as the boys reclaim their respective seats.  Mike is smoking slightly.]

 >        "I can't believe that we crashed here only yesterday, and now all four of us are the best of friends," said Sarah.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Really?
TOM: [Sarah] Well, no, just the three of us actually.  We just needed you for the plane tickets.

 >        "Thanks, Andrew," said Flair.
>        "For what?" I asked.

 CROW: [Flair] For not trying to jam your tongue down my throat, though I have this funny feeling that'll come later.

 > Rory and Sarah were talking to each other, and they seemed to be having a good time.  I tried to recall what I had done.

 MIKE: Lessee: crashed a high school assembly, kidnapped four students, publically consorted with Gambit...this will NOT look good on his record.

 >        "Back on Avalon," said Flair.  "You saved my life.  If it weren't for you, I would still be stuck in the prison cell, and by now, in the ocean."

 TOM: Uh -- he-LLO, lady?  Who had you put IN that cell in the first place?  Crow, forget about her; she really isn't worthy of you.  She's got all the brains of a radiator cap.

 >        "Your welcome," I said.  I was remembering my days with the Acolytes.

 MIKE: And promptly forgetting them, like he has everyone else in this story at one time or another...

 > They had been a dark time in my life, but then there was a savior who offered me a chance of salvation.

 CROW: Awww, he found Cthulhu.  Isn't that nice?

 > I met a girl.  A girl that I appreciated, and liked instantly from the first time we met.

 [muffled laughter all around]
TOM: What, when she whupped your butt?
MIKE: Ah, superhero love...
CROW: [sulkily] I don't want to talk about it.

 > This salvation, this light, was Flair.  I had saved her because she reminded me of a free spirit.

 CROW: Not that she WAS one, just that she REMINDED me of one.

 > She reminded me of what I would have liked to be.

 MIKE: A girl!

 > "Flair, do you know why I saved you?" I asked.

 CROW: To collect the whole set?

 >        "Well, I...no, Andrew, I don't," said Flair.

 TOM: [Andrew] Let's just say that it has something to do with hormonal desperation and a view of the opposite sex gleaned solely from the bustangstular pages of comic books.
MIKE & CROW: "Bustangstular"?
TOM: Why yes!  It's a word the comic world sorely needs, and *I* thought of it first.  I'll make a mint on the royalties.

 > I looked into her deep blue eyes, and felt lost.

 CROW: Well, it IS rather reminiscent of the Carlsbad Caverns in there.
TOM: That's the spirit, Crow!  I knew you could do it...just put the little tart right out of your mind...

 > I had to tell her the truth.  I ran my fingers through her blond hair.

 MIKE: She punched me in the teeth and then systematically broke every bone in my hand.
CROW: Yeah!  Woo!  That's my gal!
MIKE: Crow, I was kidding.
TOM: Pathetic.  Just pathetic...

 >        "Flair, I saved you because-"
>        "Shh," said Flair.

 TOM: Good thing she cut him off before he got to the part about how hot she looks in spandex.

 > She sat there, and stared into my eyes.  I moved my head forward.  She pulled away, suddenly.

 CROW: Tonight on National Geographic: the bizarre mating dance of the Common Spotted American Teenager.

 > "I...I'm sorry, its just that I-"

 MIKE: [Flair, falsetto] --don't date outside my species.

 >        "No, its my fault.  We've only known each other for three days," I said.  "I like you...a lot," I said.

 TOM: [Andrew, a la Buster Bunny] Duuuuuh...flow-ers?

 > I was embarrassed too, but I thought that since she and I had almost kissed,

 CROW: --and I, Crow T. Robot, almost committed seppaku--

 > it wouldn't be that hard to admit. I was wrong.  It was still hard to admit.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Wait a minute -- what am I talking about?  I'm never wrong!  Whew!  Almost had a SERIOUS ego crisis for a moment there.

 > I had stuttered the words out, and most of it was murmured.  "I've...I've liked you since I first met you."

 MIKE: Ahem!  If I remember properly, he called her "girly" and she kicked him in the head!  That's NOT usually the way true love begins!  The occasional sleazy blind date, yeah, but...

 > Flair turned towards me now, not so embarrassed.

 TOM: [Flair] I'm sorry, did you just stutter and murmur something?

 > "That's why I rescued you from the prison cell.  That's why I was so upset when Dane saved your life back on Avalon,

 MIKE: [brightly] I had big plans for your corpse!

 > and-" Flair cut me off.

 TOM: NOT ONE WORD, CROW!!!
CROW: Awww, man -- I can dream, can't I?

 >        "Dane!!  We forgot Dane!!," shouted Flair.

 ALL: Who?

 > She tried to stand up, but her seat belt kept her from doing that.

 MIKE: See, Crow?  She's not your type -- she can't even figure out the catch on a seatbelt.  You can get over her.
CROW: [sniff]  Yeah...yeah, I guess I can...but...for a brief, shining moment...oh Mike...
MIKE: I know.  There, there.  [pats Crow consolingly]

 >        "Shit!!" I said.

 [All gasp]
CROW: [instantly recovered from his trauma] Mike, you won't let US say things like that!
MIKE: Er...well...oh boy.  Will you take "Because I said so" for an answer...?
CROW: Hardly.  Cool!  I think this occasion calls for me to say the word "shit" over and over until my voicebox gives out!  Ready?

 [Crow takes a deep breath.  Mike promptly stuffs his OTHER sock into the bot's beak.  Much choking and many thankfully muffled obscenities ensue.]

 > I tried to calm Flair down.  "It's okay.  He's probably fine.  All we have to do is get off of the plane, and go find him."

 TOM: [Andrew] I mean, how big can the Pacific Ocean be, anyway?
MIKE: They're over the Caribbean, Tom.
TOM: Oh sure, like Vincent passed Geometry.
MIKE: Geography.
TOM: Exactly.

 > I looked out of the window.  We were already in the sky.

 MIKE: A plane in the sky--?  Yow!  I didn't expect THAT plot twist!

 > There was no way that we could get the pilot to turn around the plane.

 CROW: Wow!  There's something Andrew CAN'T do!
MIKE: Urk!  Sock breath!  Face away from us when you riff!

 > I slumped down into my seat.  "Some leader I turned out to be.  I left my own teammate in the ocean." I said.

 MIKE: Yeah, THAT'S going to look real good on his record at the next Superhero Charity Dinner.
CROW: [Andrew] Could I get by on an "ooops" and a hasty cover-up, or should I just become a hermit now before the mocking laughter begins?  ...And just WHOSE fault is it that I have sock breath, Nelson?
TOM: The lacrosse-mask-that-speaks-like-a-man has a point...
MIKE: You have no nose.
TOM: For which I am eternally grateful.

 > I was depressed.  Its not often that you can go from being breathless to being depressed in about two seconds.

 MIKE: Actually, most teenagers can do it in under one and a half seconds.  Less if they're Goths.

 >        "Andrew, its okay," said Flair.  She was trying to comfort me.  It wasn't working.

 CROW: Maybe if she comforted him a little lower...
TOM: CROW!!!
MIKE: Ah well.  At least he's feeling better.

 > Just then, our video screens lit up.  It was the face of Sinister.  He was smiling a wicked and twisted smile.

 MIKE: [dopey voice] And it was a sinister smile, too.  Hyuck.

 >        "You!" I shouted.  I tried to leap out of my seat, but the seat belt flung me down into the seat.

 TOM: What IS it with these people and seatbelts?  It doesn't take a rocket scientist!

 > The face laughed.

 CROW: But his mouth remained perfectly still.  It was muy weird, man.

 >        "Who are you?" asked Flair.
>        "Andrew Andrew Andrew," said Mr. Sinister.

 MIKE: What what what, Sinny Sinny Sinny?

 > "You haven't told all of your friends about our little tangle in the Savage land, have you."

 CROW: Ooops!  You can forget dating Flair NOW, Vincent -- you've been outed!
TOM: CROW!

 >        "That's none of your business.  What do you want, anyway?" I asked.

 TOM: [Sinister] Oh, you know: peace, fame, love, world domination, decent coffee -- the usual stuff.

 >        "Andrew, what's he talking about?" Flair asked.

 CROW: [Flair] Sorry, I can't quite make it out -- I have wax in my head.

 >        "Don't worry, I'll tell you later.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Just do me a favor and ignore anything he says about a riding crop and a can of squeeze-cheese, okay?

 > Now what do you want, Sinister?" I asked.

 TOM: [Sinister] Apocalypse's polished skull in a wicker basket would be nice for starters.  You never do remember my birthday, you know.

 >        "Oh, its just that I happen to know where your friend Dane Commons is.  Do you want to know?

 CROW: Bobbing about somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean, I should think.

 > Well, to bad!  You were very impolite that last time that we met, and I don't think that I should tell you what has happened to Dane." said Mr. Sinister.

 MIKE: [Sinister] So nanny nanny boo boo to you!

 > His smile had turned into a smirk.

 CROW: But was it a SINISTER smirk?
TOM: Nathaniel Essex -- accept no cheap imitations.

 > His eyes flashed red, and he disappeared off of the screen.

 MIKE: Whoops!  Down he goes!  Yep, that'll happen when one of your spike heels snaps.

 >        "Come back here, you...you," I shouted.

 CROW: [Andrew] Ooo!  I'll give you SUCH a pinch!

 > Flair had her hands on my shoulders, and she was forcing me to stay in my seat.

 TOM: [Sarah] Andrew, she's only allowed to give you one package of peanuts.  Deal with it.

 >        "Andrew, calm down.  Everyone in first class is staring at you. Shh.  Just calm down," said Flair.

 CROW: [Andrew] But I need attention!  LOOKIT MEEE, EVERYONE!!!

 > Her voice was soothing, and it slowed down my breathing.  I was still frustrated though.

 MIKE: Get used to it, kid.

 >        "Can I help you sir?" asked a flight attendant.

 MIKE: [flight attendant] Man, they don't pay me enough to put up with all the spandex goons.  At least nobody's ripped the roof off the plane THIS flight.
TOM: Peanuts?  Hot towel?  Epidural?

 > She seemed to back away as I responded, hoping that I wouldn't need help.

 TOM: [Andrew] Funny -- the therapist my mom sent me to did that too.

 >        "No...no thank you.  I'm sorry.  I just got out of control a little.  I'll be fine.  Thanks," I said.

 CROW: [Andrew] I was mortified.  Flair hadn't even TOUCHED me yet.

 > I was calming down now, and Rory and Sarah were looking at me as though I was insane.

 TOM: [dryly] Rory and Sarah are finally catching on, apparently.

 > "Maybe you'd better go explain to them what happened, Flair.  I need to lie down for a while."

 MIKE: [Andrew] The aisle looks comfy, and getting run over by the drink cart should be great for that knot in my back...

 >        "Yeah, Andrew.  You lie down.  Your under a lot of stress.  Just relax.  I'll be back in a while," said Flair.

 TOM: Back away sloooooowly...don't make eye contact...

 > She moved over with Sarah and Rory.  I was being treated like an old man.

 MIKE: But then he reminded them that he ALWAYS drooled and babbled about past glories, and everything went back to normal.
CROW: [Andrew] I didn't care for the fibre drink, but the catheter was kinda convenient...

 > I was fine.  Yeah, right.  I looked over.  Rory was sitting beside me.

 MIKE: [Andrew]  AAAGH!  My heart!  Don't DO that, man!

 >        "Tough day?" he asked.  He seemed to be serious.  Usually, he is always goofing off, or trying to make a joke.

 CROW: The key word here is "trying," folks.

 >        "I guess that you could say that," I said.  "I just can't believe that I let Sinister get Dane.  I can't believe that I forgot him!"

 ALL: WE can!

 >        "It isn't all your fault.  I mean, none of us noticed that he wasn't there."

 TOM: So how's that any different than normal?  Dane, indeed.  I've seen more interesting rings around the bathtub.

 >        "Yeah, but you're not the leader.

 MIKE: [Rory] Ex...cuse me?

 > I'm responsible for everyone, and now, because of me, we may have Dane as an enemy, instead of an ally.

 MIKE: [Rory] No, wait, back up, what was that about YOU being the LEADER?  Of all the nerve!  If I could undo this seatbelt I'd show you, man!  I WOULD!

 > And you know how dangerous he can be, even as a friend." I said.

 [All snort in disbelief]
CROW: Oh sure, I always pick MY friends on the basis of how dangerous they are.
TOM: Dear trusting Andrew probably tries to be chummy with wasps' nests, too.

 > I was amazingly calm.
>        "Andrew, don't worry.  Dane has to have some common sense,

 MIKE: Uh...no, not really...

 > somewhere in his thick skull," said Rory.

 TOM: Well, somewhere under that thick metal plate that broadcasts bootleg transmissions from Tijuana, anyway.

 > "He'll know what to do.  Trust me.  You'd better trust me, because I sure don't."  He smiled.

 MIKE: [Andrew] I finally succumbed to temptation and slapped him!

 >        I chuckled, "Thanks.  I guess your right.  He'll be fine.  I just need to relax.  Sorry about the outburst.

 CROW: So...Andrew is Discharge?
MIKE & TOM: Shush!

 > I think I'll sit here for the rest of the flight, that okay?" asked Rory.

 MIKE: [Rory] Yeah, that's the ticket: I'll just sit riiiight back here, clutching my flotation device to my chest with my thumb in my mouth, rocking back and forth and praying that this is all a horrible nightmare...
TOM: Say Mike, wasn't that what YOU were doing after "The Mole People"?
MIKE: Certainly not--!  ....  Well, maybe a little.

 >        "Yeah, it's okay," I said.  I was back to doing what I did best, but hated the most, making a fool of myself.

 CROW: I can't fault THAT logic.

 > "Hey Rory, do you think that Sarah could fly all of us down to land?"

 MIKE: She could, but why WOULD she?

 >        "She can fly?" asked Rory.  "Why didn't you tell me?"

 CROW: [Andrew] Hey, no biggie.  I also didn't tell you that Sarah's a militant lesbian.
MIKE: [Rory] D'OH!

 >        "Didn't you know?  She can fly, and if the computer file was right, she can fly at least mach 2," I said.

 TOM: Anyone she was carrying at the time would of course be fanboy pate, but that's not a problem really.

 > Rory's jaw dropped, and his eyes became white dishes in the middle of his face.

 CROW: Yeah, mine would too if my jaw fell off.

 >        "WHY DIDN'"T YOU TELL ME!?!" screamed Rory.

 MIKE: Well, it's kinda hard to bring up in a casual conversation.  "Hey, Rory, how about them Tigers?  Did you finish your algebra homework?  By the way, your girlfriend can fly at mach two.  Wanna hang out after sixth period?"

 >        "I know that Beast has used this line one too many times, but the answer remains.

 TOM: [Andrew] "I'm not blue, you're delusional!"  No, wait, wrong line...

 > Because you never asked!" I said.  Rory groaned, but it brought a smile to his face.

 CROW: Naw, that's just gas.

 > "Did you know that you can fly for about 50 feet?  It's not really flying, its more like a super jump."

 MIKE: Well, really, anyone can do that from an airplane.  It's more a matter of how well you cope with having your femurs driven into the ground like lawn darts when you land.

 >        "Did you just say that I can fly?" asked Rory.  "Did you say I can fly?

 MIKE: [Squit from "Animaniacs"] Uh, yeah, Pesto, I said you can fly.
CROW: [Pesto from ditto] Ah right, THAT does it!

 [A short mock scuffle ensues, and Crow winds up on the receiving end of a vicious noogie]

 > If you did, I'll have to kill you if you say you didn't tell me because I didn't ask."

 MIKE: [dizzily] Uh...guys...that last line has me all queasy...I think I'm gonna be sick...
CROW: Not on me you aren't!  Tom, quick, DO something!
TOM: Okay, Mike, calm down, breathe, repeat after me: "It was the first time..."
MIKE: [woozily] "It was the first time..."
TOM: "...that I had never had..."
MIKE: "That I had never--"  Ooouulp!

 [Mike lunges forward and loses it loudly]

 CROW: [leaning forward to watch] Hey, cool!  I never noticed that we had barf bags installed under our seats.
TOM: Yeah, well, after "The Legacy Concert" it seemed like a good idea.

 [Mike sits back up just in time for:]

 >        "Um, I didn't' tell you because...um...because I....oh, I got it!!! I didn't tell you because, get this, because I didn't feel like it!!!!

 MIKE: Oh NO--

 [He ducks back out of sight, retching again]

 TOM: You all right there?  I'd really like to help you out, but the compiler of my English-Vincent Vincent-English dictionary had the electronic equivalent of a brain hemorrhage midway through the "B" section...
MIKE: [false bravado] Oh yeah.  I'm fine.  On with the story.
CROW: Times like this, I'm GLAD I don't have a stomach.

 > Ha!!! I've out done the Beast this time!!! I am the best." I said.  Again he groaned.

 CROW: Uh oh.  I think Andrew's attempt at humor is dislodging Rory's gallstones.

 >        "Andrew, you're giving your comedy career a run for the money," said Rory.  We both laughed.

 TOM: Hell, if Chris Rock can make it...

 > "Remember when we used to pretend that we were X-Men.

 MIKE: [Andrew] What?  When did we stop?

 > You had that stupid fake cajun accent, and I........"

 CROW: [Andrew] Oh yeah!  NOW I remember!  That adorable little nimbo outfit you made out of Mom's scarves, right down to the buttfloss...
TOM: [Rory] Shut up.  Never mind.  Forget all about it.

 > The time changed.
>        "Get down, Andrew!"Shouted Rory.

 CROW: Yeah, Andrew!  Get funky with your bad self!  Woo!

 > He moved his hand to the side of his head.  I dove to the floor.
>        "Hey, watch it Cyke!!  You hit me, and

MIKE: [Andrew] ...I'm telling Mom!

 > I'd be a goner.  Now step aside, and let me 'ave a shot at it, mon ami," I said.  I moved my arm in a 180 degree sweep.

 TOM: Out of all the characters they could have played, they pretended to be Cyclops and Gambit?  And no one took them to a psychiatrist?!?

 >        "It's gonna blow!!!" shouted Rory.  "Get everyone out, NOW!!!"  I ran towards the stairs.  I heard an explosion.

 CROW: Gee, I wish MY parents had let me use real nitro when WE used to play superheroes...
TOM: We don't HAVE parents.  And Mike DOES let us use live explosives when we play superheroes.
CROW: Oh right.  Never mind.

 > I rushed down the stairs, just to see Rory lying motionless on the floor.

 MIKE: [Andrew] I poked his exposed intestines with the toe of my shoe to see if he was faking it again.

 >        "You okay Cyke?" I asked in my cajun accent.  "Cyclops?  Hey, Rory, you okay?"

 TOM: [Andrew] Because if you're dead I'd really rather prefer it if you DIDN'T answer.

 >        "Idiot!!  You ruined it.

 MIKE: [Andrew] Oh, all right, next time I'm stay in character: I'll let you die and hide the body and tell Rogue that you left the team for a stripper.

 > I thought that this game, we were going to make it so that we didn't use our real names." said Rory.

 CROW: Captain Gallbladder and the Amazing RANDO!

 > He was annoyed, but not mad.  We started to laugh.

 TOM: Urgh!  This constant neurotic laughter is getting to me, guys...make it stop...

 >        Reality.

 ALL: Huh?  Where?

 > "Yeah, that was awesome," I said.
>        "What'd you mean, 'was awesome'?" asked Rory.

 CROW: [Rory] Oh god, you aren't having flashbacks AGAIN, are you?  I warned you against sniffing dandelions, but nooOOOoooo...

 > "We're real X-Men now.  We don't need to pretend."

 MIKE: [wretchedly] Then WHY did you WRITE this?!
TOM: And since when are they X-Men?  Andrew deserted and Rory...well, is Rory.

 > I nodded.  Life had changed, for the better.

 CROW: [Andrew] I'm going to miss the constant worship, but I figure hey, this is my story -- I should be back in the midst of adoring tongue-baths by the end of the week.
TOM & MIKE: CROW!

 >        "Attention passengers.  We will be landing in New York in ten minutes.

 TOM: A LOT faster if the fourth engine gives out like the other three--  Uh, heh heh, just a little pilot humor there, folks.

 > Please place you seats and tray tables

 CROW: --and Flair--

 > in their upright and locked positions.

 MIKE: And please observe the "No Screaming" signs.

 > We ask that from here out you refrain from using electronical devices.

 CROW: Mystique!  Leave Forge alone!

 > Thank you for flying USAir."
>        "Rory, go tell Sarah that she can fly, and we're out of here.

 MIKE: 'Cause we owe the phone company six months on our bill, and I just mugged the pizza dude!
TOM: Someone want to tell me why they just can't wait five minutes to land, like everyone else?
CROW: Don't try to make sense of it, Tom.  We have entered...the Fanboy Zone.

 > We don't have any bags,

 MIKE: [Andrew] ...except for Sarah and Flair -- ow!  What was that for?

 > so it's off to the emergency exit." I said.  I had a plan.

 TOM: [Blackadder] But was it a cunning plan...?

 > Gambit told me to get a cab.  I thought that we had might as well fly.

 MIKE: Or plummet.
CROW: Oh please oh please oh please...

 > I saw Sarah and Flair stand up.  Rory nodded to me, and we started towards the back of the plane.  "Rory, You get to carry me.

 CROW: [flat sarcasm] Oh, boy, I bet Rory just wet his pants with excitement.

 > Sarah, you'll carry Flair.

 TOM: [Andrew] This isn't a lemon, you two, so don't even THINK about starting anything that Howard Stern would approve of!

 > Rory will get me to the ground as soon as he can, because he can't fly for very long.

 CROW: [suggestively] I'll bet that's not the only thing he can't do for very l--  All right, all right, I'll shut up right there.  You can put down the wrench now, Nelson.

 > Sarah, you need to hold Flair up, so she can hold the door closed, and keep anyone from falling.

 MIKE: Uh, I thought that was the whole idea here...?

 > Any questions?"  There was silence.

 TOM: Oh good.  I don't feel so bad now.  Even his friends don't understand a word he just said.

 > "Alright then.  Let's do it."  Flair stepped over to the door, and opened it with ease.

 CROW: Hmm!  After the Great Seatbelt Fiasco, I'm rather impressed.

 > "See you at the bottom," I yelled.  An alarm sounded.  Rory grabbed hold of me, and jumped.

 TOM: In an astonishing display of bravery, Rory goes kamikaze and tries to take Vincent with him...

 > I saw Sarah grab Flair, and they closed the door.
>        "Hey Andrew," Shouted Rory.  "How do I fly?"

 MIKE: Flap really hard and forget to hit the ground, you idiot!

 >        "Oh shit!!!" I yelled.

 CROW: Mike--
MIKE: No.  Just...no.
CROW: But--
MIKE: Crow, I'm out of socks.  You don't want to KNOW what I'll be forced to use to shut you up this time.  Capiche?
CROW: Roger-roger.

 > "I don't know!!  We're gonna die!!!"

 TOM: I am NOT falling for this "certain death" schtick any more.  Wake me up after the miraculous rescue.
[Tom lists to the left and starts snoring loudly]

 > Rory and I both opened our mouths to scream. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGG!!!!!!"

 MIKE: Oh, I knew that guy in high school!  He was always getting called first during rollcall...

 > The ground was closing in fast.  It was a forested area.

 CROW: Augh!  It's back to the teleport scene in the beginning of the first X!  The fanfic has lapped itself!  We're trapped!  It was nice knowing you, lads...

 > Lots of trees, and no roads that I could see.  At least I'll die with nature.

 ALL: Huh?!
CROW: ARGH!  MAKE IT STOOOOOOOOP!!!

 > I looked up at Flair, only to see her pointing and shouting at us.

 MIKE: [Andrew] She was saying something about...good God, my fly--!

 > I didn't know what she was saying, so I braced myself for impact.
>        "Go limp, sugah,"

 [Crow and Mike both start coughing and making vaguely suggestive noises.  Tom snores even louder.]

 > said a sweet southern accented girl.  I felt Rory and me being lifted into the air, and then being lowered slowly towards the ground.

 MIKE: [nudging Tom] Servo?  You can wake up now.
TOM: ...hrrrrmmm...M!  Uh!  I'm awake, I'm awake.  Let me guess: rescue?
MIKE: Yep.
TOM: X-Men?
MIKE: Yep.
TOM: Hmmm.  Which of the "flyers" would Andrew and his gonads want to be rescued by...?  Don't tell me, I can get this.  Angel and Iceman are male, Jean's married, Storm's too good for him...Rogue, right?
MIKE: Bingo.
TOM: I wish I was still asleep.
CROW: Sorry, buddy.  We ALL wish we could sleep through this.

 >        "Did you plan this Andrew,

 TOM: Strangely, that's the first thing the doctors said to Vincent's parents, too.

 > or was this all a coincidence?" asked Rory.

 MIKE: [Andrew] No, you upstaging bonehead, this has all been a clever plan to bring about your horrible demise.  Now I'm just gonna have to gut you in your sleep.

 >        "Do you mean jumping out over the Xavier Estate, or planning on hitting the ground at full force, because I didn't plan on either of them." I said.

 CROW: Gee, sounds like a Summers plan to me.
TOM: Are you intimating...?
CROW: Oh yeah, sure.  I mean, everyone's a Summers, right?
TOM: Oh yes, I forgot.  So does that mean...

 [Both bots turn slowly to stare at Mike.  Mike notices a few seconds later.]

 MIKE: What?  WHAT?!
CROW: To the gene lab with you, Nelson!  On the double?
MIKE: What gene lab?  We don't have a--
CROW: Move it, Angst-Boy!
MIKE: You've finally snapped, haven't you?

 [Crow starts biting his arm.  Tom butts him urgently from the other side.  Mike finally relents, raising his hands over his head in mock surrender as he stands up.]

 MIKE: All right!  All right!  But no trying to cut open my head or dissect me, okay?
CROW: Ohhh, Mike...you take all the fun out of everything.
TOM: Aha!  Proof that he IS a Summers!

 [Crow chomps Mike on the derriere.  He leaps forward with a yelp, and all three exit the theater.]

 [Theater...1...2...3...4...5...6...bridge]

 [SOL Bridge.  Mike is strapped into some sort of X-shaped torture device.  Wires and gizmos are poking at him from every side.  He is NOT wearing any pants, just a shirt and some boxers.  Crow enters at right.  He is wearing a large black feathered cape and has a red jewel in the middle of his forehead.  Tom enters at left wearing a large black-and-pink-feathered cape, a sparkly sequin jewel on his dome, a little perfectly trimmed goatee, and his giant bulgy muscle arms.]

 MIKE: Okay, so what are you guys supposed to be, and where are my pants?
CROW: We are Messieurs Sinisters.
TOM: You know, the genetic manipulatin' granddaddy of every well-known whiny leader of the X-Men.
CROW: I'm "Classic Sinister" resplendent in my black cape and head-mounted reset button.
TOM: And I'm "Alternative-Lifestyle Tim-Curryish Sinister" like the 12" Toy Biz action figure.  Trust me, if I had legs, they'd be opaque right now.
MIKE: And what are you doing to me?
TOM: As you know, Messieurs Sinisters' main goal in life is the genetic manipulation of the entire Summers clan.
CROW: And we want to see how well you fit the bill of a Summers.
TOM: You know, the family aka "sprawling genetic disease" that seems to be intent upon single-handedly populating all possible space AND time zones through the Marvel Universe?
MIKE: Uh, okayyy...
CROW: Right.  Okay, here we go: do you tend to get bossy and pushy towards others, but act like a Boy Scout around your telepathic mentor?
MIKE: Telepathic?  Who, Brain Guy?
TOM: Have you ever "accidentally" maimed or killed with a red kinetic energy beam that bursts forth from your eyes?
MIKE: I blew up a few planets here and there, but never with eyebeams.
CROW: Have you ever lost your wife, only to remarry her clone and then give birth to seven or eight future children who would constantly travel back in time seeking vengeance, peace, money, etc.?
MIKE: I'm not even married.
TOM: Ah!  As Sinisters we have foreseen that problem -- no Summers is complete without large-breasted redheaded wife/clone!

 [Gypsy enters wearing a spandex outfit with unnaturally large, perky missile-breasts.  She has a Peg Bundyish red wig over her head.]

 GYPSY: Hi honey!  I'm off to sleep with your long lost brother and give birth to our 32nd future child.  Future child #16 is coming over for dinner and future child #7 is bringing a virus back from the future that will kill all of our kind.

 [Gypsy exits.]

 MIKE: Okay, hon.
CROW: Have you ever plummeted from a plane holding on to the brother that you would eventually lose while your parents died in a fiery crash?
MIKE: No, my parents are living in Wisconsin, and most of the flying I've ever done has been up here with you two.
TOM: He's tough.  It's time for the final Summers test.
CROW: Yes.  [He tosses some pants onto the desk]
TOM: This'll prove he's a Summers.  [Douses the pants with kerosene and lights them on fire]
MIKE: [sees burning pants] Hey, my pants!  My jeans!
CROW & TOM: [Gyrating in front of burning pants like Hendrix at Woodstock] Summers!  Summers!
MIKE: My jeans!  Jeans!  JEAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!

 [Commercial Sign flashes and we fade to the Logo Ball as Mike continues yelling.]

 [Bridge...1...2...3...4...5...6...theater]

 [The guys slouch back into the theater.  Mike is, once again, smoking slightly.  He yelps and flinches as he sits down.]

 MIKE: OW!  Sorry, hot rivet.  On second thought, I'm not sorry.  The next time you want to set fire to my belongings, you guys, fill out the request form first!
TOM: Say!  There's a request form to torment you...?
MIKE: Pearl runs this place.  What do YOU think?

 > The ground slowly advanced towards us.

 CROW: Look out!  It's Spragg The Living Hill!
TOM: Stand fast, men!  Don't shoot until you see the whites of its...er...NEVER MIND, JUST SHOOT IT!!!

 >        "Its a good thing that we saw y'all on radar, or you'd be flat as

MIKE: Jubilee.
[All snicker despite themselves]

 > a flap jack," said Rogue.
>        "Yeah, good thing," said Rory.

 TOM: [Rory] I like flapjacks.  They're a lot like waffles.  Mmm...waffles...

 > He was still a little scared.  I could tell by the tremble in his voice.

 CROW: And the fresh stain on his shorts.
MIKE: Crow--
CROW: Grass stain!  It's a grass stain, from where he hit the ground!  I swear!

 >        "Rory, I'd like you to meet Rogue," I said.  I was home again.

 CROW: [Andrew] Ah yes, nestled between Rogue's round creamy--
MIKE: Last warning, Birdboy.

 >        "N-n-nice to meet you.  Thanks for the save."  Rogue set us down on the ground,

 TOM: --head-first, several times--

 > where we were joined by Flair and Sarah.

 [Tom makes a whistling sound effect indicating the approach of plummeting bodies followed by a really gross squishy impact]
MIKE: I thought he said Sarah could fly?
CROW: Ouch.  THAT'S gonna require a jumbo-sized bandaid.

 >        "Great fall you guys," said Sarah.

 MIKE: [Sarah, airheaded] See you next trip!  Tee hee!  Uh, did I finally get that joke right, guys?  Guys...?

 > "It's a good thing that she was here to save you.  Now, who is she?"

 TOM: [Rory] Oh, uh, um, she's my, er, sister!  Really!

 >        "This is Rogue,  a certified member of the X-Men," I said.

 MIKE: And that over there is Scott Summers, a certifiable member of the X-Men.
TOM: No, Xavier's the certifiable one for letting Andrew and company within a hundred miles of the mansion, let alone recruiting him in the first place.
CROW: Hey, it's not his fault.  They have a fanboy quota to fill, remember.
TOM: Oh yeah...you're right.  So who's on the roster for next week?
CROW: Uh, lemme check--  [he ducks down and there's a rustling of paper]  Okay, here we go: depending on availability, it's either Jaymz Grey or Dazzler Amelia Delerac.
[All shudder]

 > "Now, you think that Xavier is ready to accept yet another group of new mutants, or is he sendin' us off to Massachusetts?"

 TOM: Try Genosha.  Shaved and gift-wrapped.

 >        "Well, Xavier don't know you're comin' yet, but don't worry.  He won't mind a bit."

 MIKE: [as a completely exaggerated Rogue] Why sugah, thaya's plenty'a room unduh the flo'bo'ds foah more bodies.

 > To Be Continued....
> Andrew "FaBoO" Vincent
> [email protected]

 MIKE: That's it?
CROW: It's...over?
TOM: We're free?
ALL: WE'RE FREEEEEEEE!
MIKE: Wahooooo!  Run while you can!  Don't look back or you'll turn into salt...!

 [All, of course, flee from the theater as if the hounds of hell themselves were hot on their heels and/or hoverskirts.]

 [Theater...6...5...4...3...2...1...bridge]

 [SOL bridge.  Crow is playing with his Darth Sidious figure, making it fly around with its arms outstretched.]

 TOM: So that was X2.  Wow, it really can't go any lower, huh?
MIKE: I suppose not.  I guess Andrew Vincent wrote the "X" stories when he was pretty young, and just kind of forgot about them being on the 'net.
TOM: That's sort of like "forgetting" about nude photos of yourself on the 'net.
CROW: Hey, you notice that when you put the arms out on the figure, it looks like a demented old crow?
MIKE: Shh!  Do you want him to come back?  [Looks around nervously]

 GYPSY: [swaying into frame] Mmmpph!  Hmmf crrm ffrrr urr.

 [All three stare at her.  She stares back briefly, then with a mighty "PAH!" coughs up a wadded ball of paper onto the counter.]

 GYPSY: I said, "This came for you."  Bye.

 [She sways out again.  After several exchanged glances, Mike picks up the ball of paper and smooths it out, more or less.]

 MIKE: Hey!  It's a letter!  Wow, we haven't gotten one of these in ages!  Let's see... [Crow nudges Mike] ...what?  Oh right.  Cambot, put this up on stillstore, would you?  Thanks.

 [A freezeframe of a crumpled but neatly typed e-mail printout appears onscreen for a few moments.]

 MIKE: This letter's from Matthew Ian Bishop of Moody University...I think...and...hey guys, it's about the original X!
TOM: [monotone] This is a plot twist I did not expect.
CROW: [ditto] Me neither.
MIKE: Oh cut it out, you two.  Matthew writes to say, "'Tis I, but a humble reader of your and your husband's excellent MiSTing of a young lad's attempt at a fanfic..."
CROW: [whistles shrilly] Penalty!  Ten yards!  Kissing up to the author!
MIKE: [doggedly continuing] "As I read went through X-MST3K for the first time, I noticed something that put the entire story in a different light.  It's well... it's this..."  Okay, this is too weird, I'm not going to quote myself and I am NOT going to read back any of "X."  Cambot!  Yo!  Put this up!

 [The letter appears onscreen again, this time much larger and clearer so you can make out the following passages...]

 > And when I find you, I will tear off your skin, dip you in weak acid, pour salt
> on your nerves, and then I will start to torture you," cried Mr. Sinister.
MIKE: Ladies and gentlemen: the ONLY good line in this ENTIRE story!
{both bots oooh and ahhhh}

The moment I read that line, it triggered a cross-reference in the hard-drive of my brain, and a book I'd read back in middle school leapt to the surface. A novelization of the video game "Castlevania II: Simon's Quest," written by F.X. Nine, for some young-adult series done by a mail-order book club.  Simon Belmont, vampire hunter and video game character extraordinaire describes Dracula to an inexperienced real-worlder who's tagging along with him: "...he will flay the skin off of your bones, rub salt into your raw nerves, dip you in acid, and then....he will begin to torture you."  Sad, ain't it? That's the only good line, and it's already been done. 'Course, it's probably _just_ as pathetic that I remembered all this. *sighs*

 [Stillstore disappears and we can see the guys again.  Mike is folding up the letter, putting it into his pocket, and nodding thoughtfully.]

 CROW: Hey, Matt said it, not me.
MIKE: Still, it does make sense now...it could be a coincidence, but...well, I guess only the writer knows for sure...
TOM: Y'know, I'd be really curious to know what Andrew Vincent thinks of these stories now.
MIKE: Let's ask him.  Hey Pearl, is Andrew still around?

 [Castle Forrester.  Pearl is sitting in a comfy armchair reading Vogue.]

 PEARL: I'm sorry, Mike, but you can't technically "speak" with Andrew right now.  You see, he explained to me that he wrote "X" and "X2" when he was a young lad, and that he was a little embarrassed by them, but he's really a nice guy and doesn't mind people seeing them now.  Why, he was so sweet and understanding that I wanted to have him join our team, permanently.
OBSERVER: [Walks by counting money] Good fleecing for the Con-Fab-Ulon -- we managed to acquire $100 alone for some of Bobo's ticks.
BOBO: Hey lawgiver, do you want me to move that Andrew guy for you?
PEARL: No, Bobo, I like Mr. Vincent right where he is.

 [She laughs maniacally as we see Andrew's pained form frozen into a carbonite slab a la Han Solo and propped up next to the fireplace.  Fade out.]

Annnnd...roll the acknowledgments!

 * To the denizens on #fictalk on Friday 8/7/98 (Alan Sauer, Dex, Fritomuncher, Haesslich, Maggie the Cat, Mockery, Sciatica, Suzie Campos, and Tapestry) who helped me to brainstorm out a few lines that were giving me grief -- I used as many of your suggestions as I could pack in.

 * To the attendees of Subrealicon '99: Dandelion, David Amaya, JB McDragon, Mice, Nony (en absentia ;), Kerri Gruver, Laersyn, Pebblin, Rogue, Sparks, and Trisha Sebastian -- this one's for the recordbooks!

 * To Abyss, for beta-reading BOTH of these monsters (ouch!); to Matthew Blackwell, for keeping a finger on the pulse of the MST3K community for me when I was too busy to check for myself; and to Foenix, who happened to actually KNOW Rafe Judkins, who was just a wee bit surprised to find out about the whole Discharge thing...

 * To Rafe Judkins, of course, charming fella that he is (really, no sarcasm intended!), who just happened to still know THE Andrew Vincent...and who thus promptly let him know about this whole thing...

 * And last but not least, ULTRA-special thanks to Andrew Vincent himself, who was not only a terribly good sport when he found out about the original tale but gave me the go-ahead on this one without even insisting upon seeing it first.  The only thing he asked was that I change a few of the names to protect the innocent who were written in without their knowledge.  If some of the names look odd, that's why from here on in only Andrew himself and the Judkins brothers (as per gracious permission from Rafe himself) will retain the names you may remember from the original X-MST3K.  However, the new names are close enough for government work, as my mom alwys said.  You'll work it out.

 If you liked this MSTie and would like to see more, please come to http://www.subreality.com/camelot.htm for "Legion #17," "Psycho Christmas," the original "X-MST3K" (woo!), and probably more.  Until next time...

 .-=K=-.
(and Doc Nuke)
 

STINGER:
> Oh yeah.  Did I mention that they worshiped me here?