The 72 Hours Saga.

JOEL: Greetings, people of Earth. I'm Joel Robinson, and I come
in peace. I'm speaking to you from high earth orbit, on
the Satellite of Love, where my robots, Tom Servo --

CROW: Hi there! [ Begins giggling. ]

JOEL: [ Not missing a beat ] And Crow T. Robot --

TOM: Howdee doo! [ Also snickers. ]

[ JOEL shrugs, and points at CROW and TOM in turn. ]

JOEL: That's Crow. That's Tom. They're just having fun. We here
are forced by our mad scientist captors to watch the worst
movies ever made. I speak to you now in order to share
valuable culinary information with you.

TOM: Culinary information, Joel?

JOEL: Yes. Are you aware that the common microwave oven can be used
for more than making popcorn, heating frozen dinners, melting
butter and thawing pieces of meat?

CROW: [ Stage surprise ] Why, no, I've never heard of such a thing.

TOM: [ Stage surprise ] Are you suggesting the microwave oven might be
harnessed as a force for cooking?

JOEL: I am, and I shall prove it by using this microwave oven to
prepare a convenient breakfast recipe made with a pat of butter
and one to three eggs.

TOM: First, melt a pat of butter in the bottom of a microwave-safe
bowl, and swirl it around to cover the bottom.

[ JOEL slices a bit of butter into a bowl, and pantomimes swirling
it around. ]

CROW: Then, crack open your choice of one to three eggs, and cover
the bowl with a plate.

[ JOEL adds three eggs to the bowl. ]

JOEL: Be sure you leave a bit uncovered. Then you'll put it in
your microwave --

[ The microwave dings; JOEL takes some oven mitts and takes an identical
bowl and plate out. He puts the bowl and plate they had been
using into the microwave. ]

JOEL: And cook for one minute for one egg, a minute forty-five for
two eggs, or two minutes thirty seconds for three eggs.

TOM: Your result, a rubbery yet strangely edible egg dish!

CROW: And what do we call this recipe, Joel?

JOEL: [ Taking the plate off the bowl. ] Exploded Eggs.

TOM: Interesting... why is it called Exploded Eggs?

[ JOEL sticks the fork into an egg yolk; a cloud of smoke and an
explosion sound effect roll up. When the smoke clears JOEL
is burned; CROW and TOM are broken from the explosion. ]

JOEL: That's why it's called Exploded Eggs.

MAGIC VOICE: Commercial sign in five... four... three... two... one...
Commercial sign now.

JOEL: We'll be right back.

[ JOEL taps commercial sign. ]

[ COMMERCIALS ]



[ SOL. Desk. CROW, JOEL, and TOM are just fine; each has an exploded
eggs bowl in front of them. The microwave and all kitchen
clutter are cleared away. ]

JOEL: To clean up, soak your dishes in warm soapy water for two or
three days, and then throw them out.

CROW: For transcripts of this recipe, send three dollars to
Journal Graphics.

TOM: Cooking times assume a six hundred watt microwave oven.
Individual cooking times may vary.

[ JOEL puts his fork into the whites, and picks the eggs in a single
chunk out of the bowl, letting them dangle. ]

[ MADS sign flashes. ]

JOEL: Riff Raff and Tap Tap are calling.

[ JOEL taps mads sign. ]


[ DEEP 13. DR. FORRESTER, leaning over, is on screen. ]

DR. F: Hello, Polly. Our invention this week calls upon the classic
comic strip "Peanuts," source of such fine ideas as the
kite-eating tree, the Great Pumpkin, and the security blanket.
The last is what interests us today; one square yard of outing
flannel in the right hands brings the bearer a lasting sense
of warmth and relaxed security.

[ A beat, as DR. FORRESTER walks to the side, bringing TV's FRANK --
wearing feety pajamas, holding a large blue blanket and crying
-- into view. ]

DR. F: Mine are not the right hands. Instead, I've applied a series

of fabric soakings, stitching techniques, reversed polarities,
and other concepts it would take a seamstress to explain and
reversed the effect, creating -- the Insecurity Blanket!

[ FRANK tries to talk, but keeps crying into the blanket. ]

DR. F: And the best part, it creates an anxiety about being separate
from the blanket, so even if you get rid of it, you'll be
just as miserable!

[ DR. FORRESTER whips the blanket out of TV's FRANK's hands and throws
it off camera. TV's FRANK blinks for a moment, and then falls
to his knees, crying. ]

DR. F: Up to you guys.


[ SOL. CROW, JOEL, and TOM are at the desk; in front of them is a

slightly complex setup: There's a circular track with a toy car
set on it, tied to a crank so that turning the crank makes the
car drive around the loop. Next to the track is a model ticket
booth, concession stand, and Chroma-Key "movie screen." ]

JOEL: That's meaner than usual, Doctor Forrester. Our invention
this week is based on the old drive-in movie theater.

TOM: The Drive-In Movie Theater. Created in postwar Camden,
New Jersey, this uniquely American invention allowed
generations of teenagers to enjoy rotten movies while
inhaling gas fumes.

CROW: But their popularity has waned in recent decades as people find
they no longer have the time to go to one.

JOEL: So we're doing our bit to save this piece of Americana by
developing the Drive-Through Movie Theater. This is a scale
model, of course, but if Cambot will help us with a movie
effect we can show you how it works.

[ CAMBOT puts on the chroma-key screen any sort of moving picture; it's
too small to really make out anyway. JOEL begins cranking the
dial, and the car moves around. ]

TOM: [ As the car passes the ticket booth. ] Here, the family pays
based on the number of people in the car.

CROW: Not counting the guys hidden in the trunk, of course.

TOM: [ As the car passes the concession stand. ] Of course. Now
they slide past the concession stand.

JOEL: And up to the movie.

CROW: [ In a "little" voice ] "Ooh, my! Look! It's stuff!"

TOM: [ Similar "little" voice ] "Wow, moving pictures! Neato!"

[ JOEL continues cranking, moving the car around the loop and away
from the screen. ]

JOEL: And that's that. If they want to see more of the movie, they
can go through again, or they can go to the mall or the movie
theater or just go home.

TOM: No muss, no fuss --

CROW: Don't even have to bother parking.

JOEL: What do you think, sirs?


[ DEEP 13. DR. FORRESTER is standing on a chair, holding the blanket
above his head with one hand while fending off TV's FRANK's
slapping with the other. ]

DR. F: Here's what I think, Joel: Your head is about to explode.
You may dimly remember "Jaded Views," a horrible yet bad
Sonic the Hedgehog story by Thaddeus Boyd and Stephen Tramer.
Well, I'm giving you Stephen Tramer's sequel, "The Seventy-Two
Hours Saga." It's really three little stories, "The End of
Innocence," "Limited Warface," and "Black Light," but don't
worry, you won't be able to find any sort of narrative in it.

[ DR. FORRESTER tries to nudge TV's FRANK off with his foot, but
TV's FRANK just clings to his leg. ]

DR. F: And if that wasn't enough, "I Regret To Inform You" that you're
getting a dose of extreme pain in a pair of Star Trek shorts.
First, Richard Story gives you the Starlog summary, and the
first few minutes of a script for, his idea of a Star Fleet

Academy series. Be warned: It's what they call in the trades
a "spec script," which won't make it go down any easier.

[ TV's FRANK cries a little louder and DR. FORRESTER tries to pull
away, unsuccessfully. ]

DR. F: If you make it through that, we have Stephen Ratliff's
depressing yet joyless "I Regret To Inform You," in which we
report the early tragic death of somebody we never heard of
before. Before the day is out you're going to be begging me
to cut off your oxygen.

[ TV's FRANK pulls a little tighter, DR. FORRESTER tries to kick him
away, and DR. FORRESTER ends up tumbling off the chair,
towards the camera. ]


[ SOL. CROW, JOEL, and TOM are dancing around the Drive-Through
Movie Theater. ]

ALL: Let's drive out to the lobby! Let's drive out to the lobby!
Let's drive out to the lobby!

[ MOVIE SIGN. General alarm. ]

ALL: And have a movie sign!


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


[ ALL file in. ]

JOEL: OK, we have a big assignment today, guys, so I want you both
on your best behavior.

TOM, CROW: Yes, Joel.
CROW: Hey, what short are we getting first?

JOEL: I hope we get the script first. We don't get many of those.

CROW: OK...

CROW: [ Testy ] What *about* it?

CROW: *Thank* you.

JOEL: Writers Guild guidelines say you should use enough white space
in your script to kill off the last remaining bit of rainforest.

TOM: Isn't that the self-destruct code?

CROW: We can only hope.

JOEL: Oh, I like his Busy Town books.

CROW: It's going to take more than that to make me believe
there's a story here.

JOEL: Music by Ferrante and Teicher.

TOM: So we hear.

TOM: I know Lisa Bonet dropped out after the first season.

CROW: Right, but Kadeen Hardison stayed on...

JOEL: Sinbad was involved in some way.

CROW: Admiral Bruce Henna Rinse.

JOEL: Unless his agent sprung him this week.

TOM: I hear he was a last minute replacement.

CROW: Yeah, they wanted Pa and Ma Wheeler originally.

JOEL: [ Singing ] Tres bien, ensemble... I want you, I want you,
I neeeeed you...

CROW: Anna Walker, Anna Twoer, A Walk, Two, Three, Go!

JOEL: I've just been handed a bulletin. Cadet Blake Roberts is not
in this fanfic; Blake Roberts belongs in an unproduced episode

of "Max Headroom: 20 Minutes Into The Future." We apologize
for the inconvenience.

CROW: Cadet Katarous was accepted because Star Fleet Command needed
more people whose names almost rhyme with "guitars."

JOEL: Chika-chika-Ti-Kon!

TOM: He's actually Cadet Hyperbolic Koz, but Kozh is easier to say.

CROW: My Favorite Building Maintenance Grade G-7 Civil Servant.

JOEL: Performed by Frank Welker.

JOEL: Performed by Frank Welker.

JOEL: Performed by Frank Welker pretending to be Rob Paulsen.

TOM: Ah, Star Trek's Furniture aisle.

CROW: Uh-uh. Deadmeat.

CROW: Vaguely familiar deadmeat.

CROW: *New* deadmeat.

JOEL: Hey, Richard forgot to list Lowly Worm.

TOM: Anytime, guys...

JOEL: As indicated above.

CROW: That's our title, and we're sticking with it.

TOM: I don't want to without a deep, caring relationship first.

CROW: That about covers everything.

JOEL: Congress Street Bridge.

TOM: And the Shuttle Bay Bridge.

CROW: You guys are going to have to help me follow this,
I never saw Battle Fortress I.

JOEL: It's right above there, like, two lines up.

CROW: Oh.

JOEL: Sports Field, with Casey McCall and Dan Rydell.

CROW: In the *future*, students will waste time by checking email!

TOM: The only chemical element commemorating Jim Nabors.

CROW: Please bus your own tables. Cadets will not be allowed
back in the dining hall after being sucked into the
spacetime anomaly of the week.

TOM: Female -- or just *girly*?

JOEL: Cadet Quarters Old. Cadet Quarters in the pail, nine days old.

CROW: That's where they keep their precious supplies of protoculture.

TOM: Now it's just starting to sound silly.

JOEL: O, A New World, that has some people on it.

CROW: Pro-NUN-see-AY-shun GUYDE.

ALL: Hen-ah-see! Hen-ah-sah! Hen-ah-see!
Hen-ah-sah-ah-hah-ah-hah-hah-hah

CROW: The sun'll come out, ka-TAR-us...

JOEL: T-I-A-N! SHUN SHUN SHUN SHUN! T-I-A-N! SHUN SHUN SHUN SHUN!

TOM: Tay... CON... Me! Take On Me!

JOEL: It would've been ko-ZEE, but Richard Story has a southern accent.

TOM: [ Like a foghorn ] BEEEEE-ANNNNNN!

JOEL: Does that sound all right? It doesn't sound weird now?

CROW: Everybody with us so far?

JOEL: Blossom's commander and the leader, Bubbles is the joy and
the laughter, and Buttercup is the toughest fighter.

CROW: So that's what's become of Yahoo Serious.

TOM: Hippie!

JOEL: After lunch he has a 'catsup and mustard' beard.

ALL: At first.

CROW: And host of this week's Saturday Night Live.

JOEL: Yeah, but did you hear about his dog?

TOM: The Sixth Fleet, tragically, was destroyed one day when the
Admiral had to go to the bathroom and he left Riker in charge
for ten minutes.

JOEL: Beckybeins?

TOM: She's as Irish as you can get and not be magically delicious.

CROW: Actually, the black eye is just 'cause she's a big fan of
Ranger Rick.

TOM: So Star Fleet offers professorships for tactics, military
history, hyperspatial engineering, and playing the triangle.

JOEL: Star Fleet Mit Out Sound?

TOM: She will wear clothing for today's performance.

CROW: Awwww...

TOM: Unless it's below freezing out, and then she goes nude!

JOEL: But she only does that to hide the fact that she has no skin.

TOM: The Jeep Cherokee tribe.

CROW: She's practicing to play a messenger boy in a Shakespeare play.

TOM: Only missing her left arm.

CROW: The Cool Clique.

JOEL: Good friends with Thunder and Mainframe, and helped Mainframe
cover up when he was dating the evil Zartan's sister Zarana.

TOM: For Nightline.

JOEL: As opposed to Atlanta, Michigan.

CROW: But he's really just this guy, y'know?

TOM: Except as a result of purchasing Cracker Jack boxes.

JOEL: If he's going to be a ship's surgeon, shouldn't his specialty
program be Operations?

TOM: OK, enough of the humans. Bring on the aliens who're going
to teach us all a little something by struggling to
understand humanity for *this* premise.

JOEL: There's your generic written science fiction alien.

CROW: She's good friends with Valerie and Melody, and can play lead
guitar in case Josie has to miss a performance.

JOEL: 'Cause she's so much like a cat.

TOM: This way, we can just use M'Ress's old personality and don't
have to think up a new one.

JOEL: M'Ress: The other, less developed, Uhura.

CROW: So she can be the token psychic nitwit telling us the aliens
who blew up decks 20 through 38 are feeling hostile.

JOEL: Neutered, though, and wears purple SoftPaws.

CROW: She only plays it on the easy levels.

TOM: And all-around new guy.

CROW, TOM: MAKE UP!
[ JOEL pulls a big pillow out and baps TOM and CROW in turn. ]

TOM: Then, once Paramount acknowledges the existence and fans of the
Star Trek cartoon, visit Satan, who'll be glad to give you a
fresh slushie scooped right out of the River Styx.
[ JOEL tosses the pillow off past TOM. ]

JOEL: [ As Lambsy Sheep ] Say, haven't I seen you somewhere before?

CROW: [ As Mildew Wolf ] It's possible.

JOEL: [ As Lambsy Sheep ] Are you a hatrack from Hackensack?

CROW: [ As Mildew Wolf ] No.

JOEL: [ As Lambsy Sheep ] Or a Glockenspiel from Glockamara?

CROW: [ As Mildew Wolf ] You're getting warm.

JOEL: [ As Lambsy Sheep ] Uh-uh. I know who it is...

JOEL: [ As Lambsy Sheep ] It's the wooluff! It's the wooluff! Help!

CROW: [ As Mildew Wolf ] Aw, knock it off.

TOM: Wow, slightly different forehead bumpiness. But I'm sure
Star Trek's squad of makeup specialists will be able
to handle it.

JOEL: By a tragic mistake they cast somebody Adriatic looking.

TOM: But weirdly it only starts below his ears.

CROW: The Holy Grail of the Trekkies.

JOEL: So he dreams of someday being master of requisition form
PSW slash 550E, chapter 7103 paragraph 23 stroke 447.

TOM: Aim for the stars, my lad.

CROW: This is good. This way the series will be able to take the
bold stance of telling us slavery is naughty.

TOM: Which will come in handy in his new assignment
as company clerk of the 4077th MASH.

JOEL: [ Standing up, banging on the screen ] Hey, c'mon, could we
get a little service here?

CROW: At least bring us water!

TOM: A plate of bread already?

CROW: We're already in reruns.

TOM: Nah, I liked the old title better.

JOEL: If you don't stop teasing I'll turn this car around...

TOM: Fade ouuuut... and.. cut! Perfect! Print it!

CROW: Attack of the Republican Bees.

TOM: Oh, we *always* do that, honey. Why don't we try something else?

JOEL: Her five year mission: To count the number of angels dancing
on it.

TOM: It's trying to make a getaway!

CROW: Maybe *you* realize it. To me, it's the same old Enterprise.

TOM: Unless they blew it up yet again.
[ JOEL starts humming the 'Also Sprach Zarathustra,' the 2001
theme. ] Buuuuuuuh.... baaaaaaahh... baaaaaahhhhhh.....

JOEL: [ Continuing ] Bah Buuuuummmm!

TOM: Hope the Enterprise has motion sickness pills.

JOEL: [ Continuing ] Da da duuuuunnnnn!

CROW: And the closing titles come up: 'THE END'.

JOEL: [ Continuing ] Duh dun dah dunnnnnn!

TOM: They're approaching the outlet mall complex of
King-of-Prussia, Pennsylvania.

JOEL: [ Continuing ] Dun dah daaaaaaaannnn!

CROW: Four bedrooms, two and a half baths, little shed out back for
the lawn mower...

JOEL: [ Continuing ] Dun dah dah deeeeeeee!

TOM: You won't get away from the script that easily!

JOEL: [ Finishing ] Dun! Daaah! Deeeeeeeeeeeeee!

CROW: Then throw the first away.

JOEL: You know, a watched starship never drops out of warp.

TOM: Aaaaah!

CROW: Turn! Turn! Turn away! Turn away!

JOEL: They're doomed!

CROW: Short series.

ALL: Whew!

JOEL: We recognize it by the bald spot in its ozone layer.

CROW: It's so forbidding, we're not even allowed to see it.

JOEL: Wait a second -- according to the tech manual, that's not
the outside corridor. That's the outhouse!

TOM: Is it ever!

JOEL: Singular sensation! Every spec script that's half-baked!

CROW: So don't go getting any bright ideas now.

TOM: Sometimes you just don't *want* to go to the staff
Christmas party.

JOEL: [ As Groucho ] ... a book is man's best friend.

CROW: [ As off-duty crewman ] Isn't it silly, that one of the military
control nexuses for the solar system is ready for doomsday while
we're killing time playing Jupiter gin, planet poker and
five-card satellite?

JOEL: Remember, in an emergency situation, it's important everybody
have insufficient light to see their hands in front of their
faces.

TOM: And that the computers all be on the Star Trek After Dark
screensaver.

CROW: This danged discipline will the the ruin of Star Fleet.

TOM: I'll get you next time, Gadget... *Next* *Time*.

CROW: See, if this was on Smellevision this scene might be transmitted
by scent instead of optically.

JOEL: Standard -- with a zesty twist.

TOM: Don't you hate it when you drive over the rumble strips?

CROW: Is that the one where Tom and Jerry of the future are posted?

JOEL: The only way to get from the Ready Room to Brooklyn.

TOM: Hi, I'm Captain Picard!
[ JOEL starts singing some game show music; CROW and TOM pick it up
when he has to speak. ]

CROW: Hi, I'm Commander Data!

JOEL: And I'm Admiral Hennessy, and we're --

ALL: Starfleet Officers!

TOM: I'm Anna Walker!

CROW: Hi, I'm Blake Roberts!

JOEL: And I'm Cadet Katarous, and we're --

ALL: First-year cadets!

TOM: [ Announcer's voice ] And now we're ready to play
"Hot (Ssssssssss!) Potato!" Here's your host, Bill Cullen!
[ They stop the theme music. ]

CROW: Man, this is *so* not the Next Generation we're watching here.

JOEL: Or they're just glad to see us.

ALL: [ Jumping back ] Aaaah!

CROW: Hey, he's not acting, he *did* eat the canary!

JOEL: And how!

TOM: Wow, he's just a highly sophisticated artificial life-form given
the best training in the galaxy and with decades of experience,
yet already he's able to do the obvious.

CROW: Oooh, it's the annoying Data we came to resent in the movies.

TOM: Data can hear people adjusting their shirts?

JOEL: At least they got him to stop commenting when people
adjusted their underwear.

CROW: [ Clucking ] Puc-puc-puc-puc-Picard!

TOM: On second thought, let's not go to standard orbit.

JOEL: [ As Frank Burns ] It's nice to be nice... to the nice.

CROW: Joel, why are the lines of dialogue so short?

JOEL: That's cause it's in the format for a TV script, honey, and
studio executives can't read more than about eight words in
a row.

CROW: Oh.

TOM: [ As Data ] Were you making faces at me again?

JOEL: I think it'd be better called Merle.

TOM: I just blew it, man. I gotta be drunk or something.

JOEL: Giving the Globetrotters the edge they needed to beat us.

CROW: Furthermore, we ran out of salted peanuts just past Wolf 359.

JOEL: Plus the in-flight movie was "Star Trek: Insurrection."

JOEL: And I mean that sincerely.

TOM: If that was just a - 30 - we could go.

CROW: Don't know where, don't know when, but it continued.

JOEL: Hold on, I gotta look up my line.

ALL: Hit him! Hit him!

JOEL: Oh, I think this is subtle foreshadowing that the lead characters
are going to shift from Picard and Data to Admiral Hanna Barbera
and Cadet Guitars.

CROW: I think it's subtle foreshadowing that in even in a fanfic they
couldn't afford more than about five minutes of Patrick Stewart
and Brent Spiner.

JOEL: I have no favorite character in "Dilbert."

CROW: I just drone on and on until one day I fall apart.

JOEL: I think Data's being written so if Brent Spiner won't play
the part, Charles Nelson Reilley can step in.

CROW: [ As Walker ] And so, Leno asks the guy, "What's the capital
of the United States" and he says, "Uh, I used to know this --
Arkansas?"

TOM: [ As Katarous ] I saw that one! And the next guy said
it was Toronto!

JOEL: [ As Roberts ] Right, and the next guy, he asked what country's
north of the U.S., and the guy said Maine!

CROW: [ As Walker ] I like yellow.

TOM: [ As Picard ] There's only one man who can solve this case.
Call on... The Hunter!

CROW: But please wait until you're someplace *private*, I mean,
*sheesh*!

JOEL: [ As Picard ] Now, are you all quite through with your
raucous cavorting?

CROW: I hear this is a two-part episode. The big cliffhanger is
Picard finds out one of the cadets brought gum.

TOM: [ As Roberts ] We're not with her.

JOEL: [ As Katarous ] She's not even really in Star Fleet. She's just
very, very lonely.

JOEL: You missed it. You should've been there.

CROW: [ As Walker, panicked ] I wasn't saying you're bald!

CROW: [ As above ] And not that your head's shiny enough to be a
menace to navigation!

CROW: [ As above ] So, see, Captain Bal -- I mean, Chrome -- I
mean -- I don't mean -- uh, how are you bald -- *doing,*
how are you *doing*, sir?

JOEL: His "stupid joke" sequencers were still analyzing it.

TOM: Uhoh, does this mean he's going to make a bunch of lame gags
about being a machine all episode as part of "understanding
the human equation"?

CROW: But you're in a lot of trouble, missy.

TOM: He's going to transfer her to Lou Grant's office.

TOM: OK, now, I spy with my little eye... something starting with
the letter "e".

CROW: OOh, ooh. I know. I see the Empty Void of Outer Space?

TOM: You're right, yes!

JOEL: Like *that's* gonna happen.

TOM: Now, drop to the floor, gimme 500, and then scrub all the
bathrooms with your toothbrush, missy.

JOEL: And not less than a little stupidity.

TOM: Anna Walker, Tennessee Ranger.

JOEL: I HAVE pictures of the entire Admiralty!

CROW: It's rare that you see somebody chewing their leg off
to get back into a trap.

TOM: He can feel that side tingling.

CROW: He'll meet her in the alley after her shift is done.

TOM: And I've been workin' like a dog.

JOEL: See, these wide stretches of text are there in case they get
narration from Speed Racer.

TOM: Captain! If you don't win, you could end up losing the race!

CROW: With five precincts reporting, we're still not close
to being done.

JOEL: Blubbering.

TOM: "I've softened 'em up for ya, kid, now go nuts."

CROW: [ As Picard ] You're in Troi's seat. Why aren't you wearing
something more degrading?

JOEL: [ Tapping chest ] Is this thing on? Is this thing on?
[ Makes a feedback Wheeee-OOOOOO-wheeeeee noise ] Sorry.

TOM: [ Thoughtfully ] On "The Man From U.N.C.L.E.", what did
"U.N.C.L.E." stand for again? United Nations Command...
no, wait... Union of Natural... that's not it... I'll have
to get a report about that.

CROW: Get yer red-hot, fresh, Cadets! Get 'em while they're buttered!

JOEL: But then one of them discovers the trail of cookies and they
all walk out the air lock.

TOM: [ As Hennessy ] United Network Command... for Law Enforcement?
That can't be right... is it? Wait...

JOEL: I consider ourselves the luckiest men off the face of the earth.

TOM: Since none of you are trained, it's amazing you haven't
blown yourselves up already.

CROW: Are you *proud* of yourselves, misters?

TOM: Hallelujah!

JOEL: That's what we get for putting you in the laundry with the socks.

CROW: Others will join leftist groups and spend your Star Fleet careers
protesting the fascist hegemony by getting tear gassed.

TOM: This is the scene where it all comes together.

JOEL: Everybody look carefully. I bet this is where Hitchcock's
cameo is.

TOM: I think I missed him.

CROW: We can look it up on the net, later.

JOEL: Of course, we can't *predict* to whom the ultimate misfortune
will fall, but if Boothby's minions come around offering
"insurance," I'd recommend buying it.

CROW: The rest of you will have to develop such horrendous personality
flaws that you're transfered to a starship to be in complete
charge of one research mission in a region of space dangerously
close to a very hostile and barely known alien race.

TOM: And only one commander in twenty will become insane or a
traitor and only one in five of those will become so obviously
dangerous they're promoted to Star Fleet Admiral.

TOM: [ As Picard ] I can't believe I almost failed "Holding
Interminable Conferences With Everybody On The Ship."

JOEL: One-Adam-Scene-12, One-Adam-Scene-12.

CROW: Get this -- get it off!

JOEL: Not this episode, anyway.

TOM: And a few strategically placed bribes, looking at this bunch.

CROW: The measuring up is the hard part. Ever since the great CCNY
Tape Measure scandal of '53, the admiralty's cracked down.

JOEL: Are the writers blatantly on your side?

TOM: And you just start giggling mysteriously at the simulator's
Cardassian Gul...

CROW: And you walk in late to it and suddenly find you're naked and
it's a subject you never heard of before...

JOEL: Mmmmmmmmmmmyeah, could be.

TOM: I haven't been saying that. Have you been saying that?

CROW: I thought about saying it, but I didn't.

JOEL: Oh, I know what it is. I said it once.

TOM: Why did you say that?

JOEL: It was the late eighties. Star Trek came on right after
G.I. Joe.

CROW: [ As Hennessy/Bob Newhart ] Now, uh, before we dock ...
I have been pretty lax about discipline, and golly, nobody
enjoys a joke more than I do, but I would like the executive
officer returned.

CROW: [ As Hennessy/Bob Newhart ] Now, we've looked in the torpedo
tubes, we've looked in your bags and, uh ...

CROW: [ As Hennessy/Bob Newhart ] I mean, it's been over two weeks,
men, and ...

CROW: [ As Hennessy/Bob Newhart ] We're just lucky it wasn't the
navigation officer or, or someone real important like that.

CROW: I think they're waiting for groundhog day.

TOM: "I like the me channel."

JOEL: How much gender do hands typically have?

TOM: Is he preheating the oven?

CROW: He's supersizing the Enterprise.

TOM: Will our Mystery Voice enter and sign in please?

JOEL: [ As Daffy Duck ] I'll get rid of *him* and make it *look*
like an accident!

ALL: [ Singing 'Those Endearing Young Charms,' with last notes high ]
Dah da dum, de dum dum, dah de dum da dee dee--

ALL: [ Trying last notes again, too low ] Dum da--

ALL: [ One more attempt, notes too high ] Dee da--

ALL: [ Starting from scratch, getting it right ]
Dah da dum, de dum dum, dah de dum dum da dum--

ALL: [ Finishing off. ] Dum, da dum, da dum.

CROW: The bridge ate too big a meal, it's got to widen the angle
so it can fall asleep on the couch.

JOEL: That must've been some party we had last night... wait, the
party was four days ago... ... *Whoa*.

TOM: If they'd just eat their spinach they wouldn't have this
problem with fights to the finich.

JOEL: Again.

TOM: I bet the ejection system for the warp core's broken again too.

CROW: I bet the Borg just showed up too.

CROW: Again.

TOM: And I bet somebody just broke out of the security cell.

JOEL: Yup. And the holodeck's gone crazy and made intelligent life
once more.

TOM: Seen it.

CROW: And the transporters are malfunctioning.

JOEL: Ten Forward's broken out in fights.

TOM: There's a scout troup short a child.

JOEL: Gowron's doin' Idlewild...

CROW: If that's right then I don't think they really have time for
the opening credits.

JOEL: Is enough.

TOM: I think the next one's coming up, guys.

JOEL: Yeah, those are definitely blank lines from a different story.

TOM: Nothing!

JOEL: So I'm just going to hide from you.

CROW: Know this name. Remember this face.

JOEL: The story's set in Tang?

TOM: This story not suitable for those collecting Pogs.

CROW: Only to be coded for North America and New Anglers.

TOM: That means they're going to have to settle it by a kick-off.

CROW: Some are rah. Some are just undecided.

JOEL: Marrissa had never seen a woman before, and was sorely afraid.

TOM: [ As a woman ] "But my only child's a daughter."

CROW: [ As Marrissa ] "That's the other thing I had to tell you."

JOEL: Technically. Though his Captain was only being sarcastic...
didn't really want him crawling into the antimatter chamber.

TOM: Her psychiatrist told her to get absolute quiet, but the
couple in the next room wouldn't stop laughing and playing
the trumpet.

CROW: But Star Fleet needed her to represent them in the
Intergalactic "Sorry" contests, and she wouldn't let them down.

JOEL: She thought it was silly dress uniforms were always doused in
itching powder, but she didn't want to say anything.

TOM: Because she was the only starship in the quadrant.

CROW: And silly enough hat.

TOM: There wasn't enough action in it.

CROW: Star Fleet only has one admiral?

TOM: They were desperately understaffed at this point.

JOEL: Grief counseling, psychology, crisis management, they wouldn't
help train a person to tell folks a loved one has died.

CROW: "Maybe I should turn off the mariachi music."

JOEL: [ As Marrissa ] "Whoops, I went to the Duke boys' place."

TOM: She reflected on what tough questions the door asked.

CROW: "Hi, handsome."

JOEL: You know, if you follow the line of a Lieutenant's pips,
they point to the North Star.

TOM: But not narrow.

CROW: If her decorations weren't perfect, it wouldn't count,
and the guy would have to be brought back to life.

JOEL: It's important you convey the image that the loved one's death
was a trivial matter you find as emotionally involving as
reading the gas meter.

CROW: And flashy neon elbows of her dress arms...

TOM: But she's saving up solar energy for later use as
Bird-Man's new girlfriend.

JOEL: Must've been a slipup at the setting department.

CROW: Somewhere in a romantic fanfic a couple's trying to have their
first fantastic date and getting thundered and rained on and
slipping in the mud and all that.

TOM: That could be kind of fun.

CROW: Or at least night.

JOEL: Unless they drop off the cash.

CROW: Sleeting, turning to snow overnight.

JOEL: A new car!

TOM: Hey! Get off the dog! Can't you read?

CROW: [ As the woman ] "That's *my* dress uniform!"

TOM: [ As Marrissa ] "This is so embarassing, I didn't think
we'd wear the same thing."

JOEL: Charlie was close. We could smell him.

CROW: Mrs. Shag None?

TOM: "I can't hide from that name anymore."

JOEL: "We'd like you to come downtown and answer a few questions,
please."

CROW: You have not won the Star Fleet Publishers Sweepstakes.

JOEL: Anupum Chagnon? The heck?

TOM: [ Singing "Animal Crackers" ] Anupum Chagnon in my soup!

JOEL: And since he wasn't a main character we aren't going to bother
finding an impossible way to beam him back from nonexistence
or something like that.

CROW: It was kind of like gravity, only there was this little twist
to the side, and it giggled a lot for some reason.

JOEL: But don't worry, because of the spacetime anomaly they fell into,
they won't actually die until a thousand years of burning,
stinging pain has passed.

TOM: Bad time for her legs to give out.

CROW: Through a gradual process of continental drift and slow
sedimentation.

JOEL: [ As Marrissa ] "Wait a second... *Shelly* Sugaroon?"

TOM: [ As Mrs. Chagnon ] "No, I'm Rebecca. Shelly lives on
the other North Yost Road."

JOEL: [ As Marrissa ] "Oh, I feel so silly now... sorry."

TOM: [ As Mrs. Chagnon ] "Don't be, it happens all the time."

TOM: Never before had her collection of knock-knock jokes seemed
so inadequate.

JOEL: She'd been Mrs. Shoognan. It was her turn.

TOM: Commander Riker knew four years ago that Imapuppy Shaggadoon
was going to die? He should've said something.

CROW: Four years before she was born.

JOEL: For one thing, it was later on.

CROW: They can ground you.

JOEL: What with their fast living and loose lifestyle.

TOM: They're not children, they're just Talky Tina dolls.

CROW: She wanted to have a complete set.

JOEL: No, that's not a handkerchief, that's sandpaper!

TOM: He sneezed and burped at the same time and kept his eyes closed
so his head exploded.

JOEL: She'd set up the booby traps weeks ago.

TOM: By a nutty guy trying to talk about Radio Shack and the
Federal Reserve almost to the final bus station.

CROW: It was a pretty sketchy premise.

TOM: Did you try retracing your steps until you find it?

JOEL: Against the vicious Captain Blah.

TOM: It took most of the ride for her to learn that?

CROW: "They lost the whole colony? What kind of yutzes run this
Star Fleet? What is this, 17th century Virginia?"

JOEL: You know, that touch-sensitive fainting button was a bad thing
for her.

TOM: "Uh... we don't actually know that he died blubbering and
begging for mercy, we were just assuming it."

CROW: "Let me check my bag here... wait... no, nothing."

JOEL: Feelings?

CROW: She's hoping she can blend into the background and Mrs. Shruggle
will move on to larger prey.

TOM: "Uh... whose line is it?"

JOEL: Fortunately, she'd had sponges installed behind her tear ducts.

TOM: It's just her little effort to become a kabuki actor.

CROW: She's going to sell herself on eBay and use the money to retire!

JOEL: Bill Bailey?

TOM: What you've said is wonderful enough.

CROW: "Nah, they'll hear it on MSNBC."

TOM: Your son was the only guy on the ship.

JOEL: But did she mean it?

CROW: "If I had a marsupial pouch, I could tuck her
inside me for warmth."

TOM: So it was written.

JOEL: They need to hire some temps or something. Flesh out the
staff some.

TOM: Everybody else had notes from their teachers.

CROW: She would have to get further training in being a youthful
angel of death from other tragic incidences of starship
destruction.

TOM: She had to miniaturize herself to fit.

JOEL: Ensign Shaggy Dog didn't have a father.

CROW: Even back then she couldn't take the strain.

TOM: Making bunny ears.

JOEL: He's collecting his mom, now.

CROW: His color doesn't look off, does it? I got him secondhand.

TOM: 'Cause that way he lasted longer.

CROW: Sob-ijevo?

JOEL: Saraje-sob.

TOM: Pull up! You're too low! Give it another go-round!

JOEL: "We thought his posting as 'Chief Target' was a misprint
at best, but he insisted it was normal for a first assignment."

CROW: For internal strife and suffering.

JOEL: And that means you have superpowers!

JOEL: And the second class of his postage.

TOM: He was pretty rock stupid, honestly.

CROW: Mrs. Shampoo always popped her eyes out for more relaxed seeing.

JOEL: Ironically, in the picture he was wearing his "My life's
not going to be snuffed out at a young age defending some
unimportant planet in another quadrant from vaguely defined
aliens!" T-shirt.

TOM: Most of them involved prodigious amounts of candy eating.

CROW: "He was very young as an infant of his age, you know."

TOM: After that the team would catch him and make him sit back
in the stands.

JOEL: He wasn't nearly cool enough.

TOM: AnnaNuperin could barely say his name right.

CROW: The coach really wanted to put him on the other team,
but there were rules...

JOEL: Showing off his half-human, half-bubble gum heritage.

TOM: They went wild for him both times.

CROW: He'd just gobble her all up and there were no leftovers.

JOEL: "Did you hear about that popular kid?"

CROW: "Yeah, he's so keen nobody will give him a second date!"

TOM: I bet he got in trouble for losing the first eighty of them.

CROW: Where that ghost who's scaring Scooby and Tim Conway can see it.

JOEL: Belonging to his little sister.

TOM: But there were only two runners in the Academy Marathon.

CROW: "Second Grade Field Days Participant" ... "Third Grade Field Days
Participant" ... "Dorm Lounge Rat" ... huh.

JOEL: Instantly Marrissa realized Aberdeen Sharparoon was a time
traveller who jumped throughout the centuries in his nefarious
plans and used this year as a comfortable home base.

TOM: Maybe he shouldn't have hired Peppermint Patty to tutor him?

CROW: I never had high hopes for my son.

TOM: Like when Anubnub paid those Binar kids to fix up his
high school transcript.

JOEL: Oh, no, that was somebody else. Who am I thinking of?

TOM: She would've stayed longer, but Mrs. Shubnub was about
to charge rent.

JOEL: The Bates Hotel.

CROW: Mike Dukakis is gonna get blamed for this too.

TOM: Oh, no, the sun is falling down!

JOEL: "Hey, you hills! If you had any ambition you'd be mountains!
Now snap to it!"

CROW: In a silly attempt to trip people.

JOEL: Wait, no, that's just Peter Pan's shadow, sneaking away.

TOM: Well, pretending to listen, and really thinking about Gumby
fan fiction.

CROW: [ As Mrs. Chagnon ] "Here's his medal for only falling down
twice during a half-hour drill."

JOEL: [ As Mrs. Chagnon ] "He foreclosed on his old treehouse out back,
here's the deed to it."

TOM: [ As Mrs. Chagnon ] "There was this time we were going out
to eat at Burger King, and we went in separate cars and
we went crazy because neither of us could find the other.
Turns out he meant the Burger King on Route 7, and we
thought he meant the one on Wolf Road!"

JOEL: That mind-meld where he forced his spirit into her body
helped some too.

TOM: But she persevered in spite of the hardship, and had a
wonderful time.

JOEL: They need to brighten up their decor. "Inescapable depressing
responsibilities" is not a cheery theme for a resort.

CROW: Before the sun went out forever.

TOM: The sun's playing "peekaboo" with the continent.

JOEL: In case you didn't know.

CROW: Or colorized her vacation, anyway.

JOEL: That's not a cloud! That's the invading flying saucer!

TOM: To tell Mrs. Champagne her son died again.

CROW: That was the only way to catch them not working.

TOM: Walking to hotels through metaphors.

JOEL: "If I just hang around the popular characters, they'll never
get killed permanently and I won't have to do this again!"

TOM: That's a Morse code M.

JOEL: The Stephen Ratliff of fanfic writers.

CROW: Crosswinds.net... Isn't that a Mercedes Lackey/William
Gibson novel?

TOM: An all-purpose productivity suite for the Commodore VIC-20,
the Apple II+ and the Atari 800.

JOEL: Stephen Ratliff works! So give him a try!

TOM: And a handful of partial weirdos.

JOEL: She's going subcutaneous on us all!

CROW: They deserved it.

TOM: I have been to the same, and it's pretty much like it is here!

JOEL: Of Qward.

CROW: I prefer the Canadian "Smarties" chapter 7.

TOM: Let's blow this popsicle stand.

JOEL: [ Picking up TOM. ] About time.

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


[ SOL. Desk. JOEL is sitting by the table, resting his head in
his hands and nibbling at his thumb. Cambot is close on
JOEL. ]

JOEL: Captain's log, star date 55577.3. There is new life in our
little office today, as a pair of spunky yet young cadets
take their first field assignments and, they hope, finally
earn their commissions.

[ CAMBOT pulls out, to reveal CROW and TOM SERVO. ]

TOM: You wanted to splee us, sir?

CROW: See!

TOM: See! See us! Captain O'Brian!

JOEL: Please. [ Whipping to look at CAMBOT, who zooms in. ] Call me
Eel. I'm the dashing yet tormented office commander providing
a sense of moral balance and dispensing cynical yet heartfelt
bits of wisdom. You're too new yet for me to tell you about
my amazing superpowers, though. [ As CAMBOT pulls out. ] As
your commanding officer I'll be in command of you unless you're
able to earn your comissions and repay the damages you did
to the school cafeteria.

CROW: Thank you, sir. Eel. Sir. I'm Cadet Timothy "Sparky" Wibberly.
[ Whipping to look at CAMBOT, who zooms in. ] I'm a brash young
cadet whose self-confidence has lead repeatedly to my downfall
in academic and athetic competitions. Despite that, I feel
driven to prove myself, taking on tasks beyond my ability.
[ As CAMBOT zooms out. ] My friends come to dread the worst of
the messes I get myself in, but they appreciate my general good
nature and glib self-confidence the rest of the time. I met my
pal VE here because we're dressing up as women so we can get

an apartment.

TOM: And I, Tocopheryl Acetate, [ TOM whips around to face CAMBOT, who
zooms in ] or 'VE' as I oddly request to be called, am new to
this society. I'm the first member of a Beta Quadrant race to
make it through the academy, and though I do my best I find it
hard to understand the feelings and loyalties of you humanoid
races. [ CAMBOT begins pulling out. ] I requested this
assignment, that I may best learn how you endure the worst that
can happen. I came to the Alpha Quadrant in search of the
men who killed my father, and find for political reasons
I'd best work out of the Canadian consulate in Chicago for

a time.

JOEL: Then I welcome you to this office, one of seventeen located on or
in orbit of Earth, but assigned to deal with the hardest cases
-- notification of families of those lost to the service to
causes exotic or inexplicable or beyond all understanding.
[ CAMBOT zooms in. ] Commander Malitol, the fighting young
commander who can talk to the young, will be here shortly with
your first assignments. [ CAMBOT zooms back out. ] You know, she
came to this office originally with her fiancee, who stepped out
to get something from his ex-wife, only to have her fiance return

to his ex-wife, leaving Malitol stranded here, where she decided
to begin a new life.

CROW: Sir -- if I may? [ JOEL nods. ] An endless stream of telling
people their loved ones have been killed in the line of duty.
It seems depressing. How do you survive it?

JOEL: If I find out, I'll let you know.

[ GYPSY enters. ]

GYPSY: Hello. I'm Commander Malitol. [ CAMBOT zooms in. ] The
fighting young commander who can talk to the young. I'll
be taking you under my wing, but don't mistake that for
friendship. [ CAMBOT zooms out. ] That you have to earn.

TOM: Wouldn't have it any other way, sir.

GYPSY: Very good. You've earned it.

CROW: Ooh! I wouldn't have it any other way either.

GYPSY: Don't try to butter me up. I don't trust you.

CROW: But... but... you're the fighting young commander who can talk
to the young. I'm young.

[ TOM snickers, nervously, and stops when GYPSY looks at him. ]

GYPSY: You aren't suffering through one of the worst tragedies that
can strike a person. You're just getting acclimated to your
new posting. You'll see my empathy when you need it and not
before.

CROW: But I have all manner of personal tragedy in my past I haven't
told you about yet.

GYPSY: Clearly nothing you can't live with, which is more than I can
say for your first assignment. Get on down to Margaret Street.
Find the parents of Lieutenant Leonard Farnsworth. In a tragic
accident in quadrant 875-020-079, his transporter beam crossed
the transmission signal of Mike Teevee.

TOM: But that would lead to all manner of destructive interference!

JOEL: Horrible. Their signals merged in the reception buffer, but
when the safeties reversed the transport sequence, that just
amplified the problem.

GYPSY: Although the last good transporter pattern was used to create a
version of himself on the holodeck, he found this lifestyle
hopelessly limiting and as of fourteen hours ago was, with his
Captain's permission, turned off. Put a good spin on it. Buy
some flowers. Maybe chocolate. Maybe a new slinkie. I don't
know if he left a farewell message. Find it if he did.

[ CROW, TOM look at one another. ]

JOEL: You waiting for invitations, Misters?

CROW, TOM: No, sir! On our way, sir! Going there, sir! We're out
of here... [ They leave. ]

[ COMMERCIAL SIGN flashes. ]

GYPSY: Think they'll get the hang of it?

JOEL: For all our sakes, I can only hope so. We'll be right back.

[ JOEL taps COMMERCIAL SIGN. ]

[ COMMERCIAL BREAK. ]


[ THEATER. ALL file in. ]

JOEL: I'd watch that show, anyway.

TOM: Oh, the bittersweet story of how the Clinton impeachment caused
America to lose her innocence.

JOEL: I bet it's the bittersweet story of how the Iran-Contra affair
caused America to lose her innocence.

CROW: Nah, it's the bittersweet story of how the Watergate scandal
caused America to lose her innocence.

JOEL: Oh, no, it's all about how the Kennedy assassination caused America
to lose her innocence. In a bittersweet way.

CROW: I bet it's the bittersweet story of how the Quiz Show Scandal caused
America to lose her innocence.

TOM: I'm hoping it's the bittersweet story of how the Korean War caused
America to lose her innocence.

TOM: No, you know, it's the bittersweet story of how dropping the
atom bomb caused America to lose her innocence.

JOEL: It's the bittersweet story of how the Great Depression caused
America to lose her innocence.

CROW: Nah. It's the story of how Leopold and Loeb represented the
end of America's innocence.

JOEL: I bet it's the story of how storytellers figured out America
didn't have all that much innocence to lose.

CROW: OK, I'm starting to lose hope for this story.

TOM: [ As in introducing "That Girl" ] Edited by.... THAD BOYD!

JOEL: There's the sort of omen we want to see.

TOM: Nobody warning of mature content has ever had mature content.

CROW: Milwaukee 2, in ten innings.

JOEL: We probably won't be able to follow the plot if we haven't seen
Profanity one through seven.

TOM: The weird thing is the "F" word he means is "frond."

CROW: Taking the geologic view of "soon."

TOM: Those passengers who are elderly, have children, or have elderly
children may now begin pre-verting.

JOEL: With an opening like that, you know it's going to be wacky.

TOM: Malcontents.

CROW: In all of human history, there've been, what, three important
editor's forewards?

TOM: I'm hoping we can get a brisk episode of "Law & Order"
out of this.

CROW: I don't know about you guys, but to me this story is just
flying by.

JOEL: And I think we've all learned a little something important
from it.

CROW: Extry! Extry! Read all about it!
Pinball wizard in a miracle cure!

TOM: And we know you did.

JOEL: Generic Fanfic Titles. When you need a title for your fanfic
but don't want to make one up.

CROW: So is that the Sonic universe where Sonic and company are
fighting desperately for freedom against the worldwide
war machine of the evil Doctor Robotnik, or is that the
Sonic universe where Sonic and company are trying to beat
the goofy Doctor Robotnik in a pie-eating contest down at
the Mobius Mall-O-Plex?

JOEL: Like I wish I was warned,

CROW: Or you'll turn into a bat.

TOM: And it is agreement with every minor aside ever thrown into
the cartoon that determines the merit of a story.

CROW: I bet that's an episode that featured Sonic's pal Tails.

JOEL: Pssht! The fool.

CROW: It's amazing they even let people like that breathe, isn't it?

TOM: To think somebody who'd do that might ever be allowed to drive.

CROW: Or at last.

TOM: Last but not least.

JOEL: Except I thought it'd be fun if Sonic and Tweety Bird
switched places.

TOM: If it was about basketball and was set in Seattle it might be
called a Super-Sonics story, though.

JOEL: And there'll be a prize in it if you're the first person
to spot that line.

CROW: Oh. So it's a fanfic.

JOEL: Dismiss it for its many other flaws.

TOM: How often do you really have to warn people they're
about to read a very good story?

CROW: But mostly finally.

JOEL: But, really, who hasn't read them by now?

TOM: Out loud, if need be.

JOEL: Wait, it's too late, we're already reading this.

TOM: I could swear we've seen this part before.

JOEL: I'll take a two-pack of writs a certiorari...

TOM: [ As garbed drive-through speaker ] Two pack certi.

JOEL: And, uh, gimme a helping of mens rea -- supersize that, too...

TOM: [ As garbed speaker ] Super mens rea, anything else?

JOEL: Yeah, a large helping of voir dire. That's all.

TOM: [ As garbled speaker ] Dire large, that's $4.81, please
drive around.

TOM: Internally.

JOEL: You have to put your name at the top and send it to six
friends to make money.

TOM: Without the consent of the Commissioner of Major League Baseball.

TOM: How many times you think he's given permission?

JOEL: Don't even make bunny ears behind its back when we're taking
its picture.
[ CROW walks in slowly, from the other side of the theater. ]
JOEL: Hey, long time, no see, buddy.

CROW: Yeah, I figured I better find out the stuff from those other
stories they told us about.

TOM: What'd you find?

CROW: Remember the "Jaded Views" experiment? With Maxl and Jade and
Tracker fused into this one body, and they got accidentally
freed again and now Jade hated them and Maxl was crazy until
he sneezed and sent Jade into another dimension?

JOEL: [ As CROW gets to TOM's and his seat ] I remember.

CROW: And we did that little "The Prequel Menace" giving our best guess
how they got joined together, and it was this silly thing about
screwing around just after gym class in middle school?

TOM: All too well.

CROW: Turns out we were right.

JOEL: This is why we never do satire, guys, the world will top it.

TOM: We leave this space for everybody who wants to make a reference
to Doctor Richard Kimble now.

CROW: Who would have guessed?

JOEL: So, wait, is he going to be the comedy relief?

CROW: Brent Roberts, with sports.

TOM: Thad Boyd blames her on Steven Tramer, and Stephen Tramer
insists Thad Boyd created Jade.

CROW: Quick, pick the name that isn't made up.

JOEL: Capcom games. The official games of Mission Control.

CROW: Wow, Bookshire Draftwood *and* Packbell. Stephen and Thad
must've paid for the *deluxe* generic Sonic fanfic package.

JOEL: Ever feel like we're just going in circles?

TOM: Next Sunday, in fact.

JOEL: They can't stay hidden once they take a crunch of Cap'N Crunch.

CROW: No, no, it's "B to B." You'll never make any money on the
Internet if you can't get that right.

TOM: Or any other way, either.

JOEL: And good work, Karl Malden's nose.

TOM: It was under ten minutes. The pizza's not free.

CROW: Don't let the door hit you on the way --

JOEL: WHAM!

TOM: OW!

CROW: Never mind!

JOEL: [ As Crotswurth, after chuckling ] "He doesn't know a thing."

CROW: [ As Karl, after chuckling ] "He doesn't know a thing."

TOM: Imaginary friends.

JOEL: Which are so *way* different from the Chaos Emeralds
it's not funny.

TOM: Good times, great friends, and a thorough understanding of
Kirchoff's laws.

JOEL: [ As Karl ] I like to rub.

TOM: [ As Crotswurth ] I like when you rub.

JOEL: Get the Life Jades, container of milk, stick of butter.
Get the Life Jades, container of milk, stick of butter.

CROW: If you're not back before midnight you'll turn into a pumpkin.

CROW: [ As Crotsworth ] What do you mean?

JOEL: I wouldn't, but... well, it's the introduction to the
opposite sketches.

TOM: Well, me in one piece and the hoverbike in one other,
separate piece.

CROW: She's considered magical and downright goofy.

JOEL: Oh, but you forgot about the Daylight Saving Time.

TOM: [ Quick reply ] Ramjet.

CROW: Aaaaand he hits a pine tree.
[ JOEL makes a crash noise. ]

TOM: Aaaaand he crashes into a Dutch elm.
[ JOEL makes a crash noise. ]

CROW: Aaaaand he runs into an oak.
[ JOEL makes a crash noise. ]

TOM: Aaaaand he hits a rubber tree.

JOEL: Boing-oing-oing-oing-oing-oing-oing!

TOM: Heeey... he didn't fire a bullet, the "target" was a long-play
record!

JOEL: Looks like the target picked the wrong week to start drinking
lighter fluid.

JOEL: It's 110 percent mental, though.

TOM: Just gotta have good arms.

CROW: And the first 90 percent's preparation. The other 90 percent's
practice.

JOEL: "I won't stop editing until I've savaged the language."

TOM: As long as the editor's amused, what's it matter if everybody
else is annoyed?

JOEL: Who handed back a hat and pulled two bunnies out of it.

CROW: The generic random training scene, ladies and gentlemen.

JOEL: The milk.

JOEL: The edge of the milk.

TOM: [ As Maxl ] Hey, where'd you go?

JOEL: And crying.

CROW: And get your Kobayashi Maru time up to at least twenty minutes.

JOEL: Easily all the way back to Mrs. Furey's sixth period
English class.

TOM: They drew the line at sharing their Underroos.

JOEL: And then drowned in the Columbia River.

ALL: Oh, my!

CROW: And, uh, vice-versa.

TOM: Given that Maxl and Tracker, last we saw them, spent their free
time trying to repeatedly run headfirst into a tree, I'm going
to have to side with Jade on this one.

CROW: But sometime after this scene.

JOEL: Mostly we were just grossed out.

TOM: Five dollars if he's got a spoon in his purse. Fifteen dollars
if it's sterling silver. Ten dollars for anyone who has
a toothbrush.

CROW: But who hasn't gotten a chance to join the Knothole
Freedom Fighters?

TOM: Well, *look* at them.

CROW: But we didn't really want to go into in depth,

JOEL: Like his ability to get beaten up before homeroom.

CROW: You know he's screwed up when he has too many annoying
personality flaws to join Sonic and the crew.

TOM: And *that* was the whole Knothole Village Rush Hour.

CROW: He's not a very good traffic engineer.

JOEL: [ As Tracker ] Maybe if I keep staring, it'll throw me some food.

TOM: And what that guy had on his head?

CROW: [ As Maxl ] Tom Slick didn't lap us, did he?

TOM: You know, like we never discussed him doing before.

JOEL: Like the guy who's been watching us, or somebody.

TOM: Maybe he just had a flight to catch at Robotropolis
International Airport.

CROW: Or he could've been taking in the Mobius World Series at the
Robotropolis Yards Ball Park.

JOEL: He could've been heading to the Grand Palace de Robotropolis
for the shopping and fine dining, too.

CROW: Could've been over the border. In Mexico, even.

JOEL: Then we'll go outside, drop that stuff, and go back inside
and get some stuff we can't possibly use.

TOM: Oh, and an electric toothbrush, because you're sure to have
lunch there.

CROW: Where he discovered the professor had made a telephone
out of coconuts.

JOEL: And they were both followed by the Warner Brothers and their
sister Dot.

CROW: You three stay out of here!

TOM: Accidentally pressing the button that released the Freedom
Fighters and started the self-destruct system on Robotnik's
newest scheme to blow up Knothole Village and take over
the world.

CROW: And he's not even startled, Yipe is just the name of his newest
goofy hench-robot.

JOEL: Hey, don't make us wash your mouth out with Mobian soap, now.

CROW: Aw, great, Q's in this.

TOM: Not to be confused with the Chaos Emeralds.

JOEL: Car keys, loose change, nail clipper, Life Jades,
garage remote...

CROW: Hard-hitting rocks sitting on table action!

JOEL: And the Polaroid developed...

TOM: That happens every time I turn off a light in my room too.

JOEL: Come, Sasha! I'm finally freeeeeeeee!

CROW: And you! Get in my way! Now the both of you, swap positions!
Hah! I love being drunk with power!

TOM: This is pretty much the same role Packbell plays in all
these stories.

JOEL: Packbell's tongue became a VCR.

CROW: I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess, he misses.

JOEL: Hi, floor! I never noticed before but you're kind of cute!

CROW: It's called a tornado.

JOEL: She sure picked the wrong day to start wearing her
Mobile Home outfit.

TOM: We've replaced the Packbell normally served here with this
other guy. Let's see who notices the difference.

CROW: George Steinbrenner For The Defense!

JOEL: This story's so good we don't care there's no way to tell
when one scene stops and another one starts.

TOM: And he immediately gets slapped.

CROW: I'm here to make sure the story never shows its audience
any respect!

TOM: Or do you just want to get yourself rust-preventative coating?

JOEL: Is he taking art lessons too?

TOM: Flannel is very popular.

JOEL: Here's a shovel, try to push the bleep over to the side.

TOM: And your gun's neat too.

JOEL: Have it back by Sunday, don't leave me with less than
half a tank full!

CROW: This is precisely as wacky as any episode of "Bonkers."

TOM: So *this* is what's become of Sanford Wallace.

JOEL: I've got to sell him something ... I know! Hey, mister!
You need a *house* to go with this doorknob!

TOM: I will buy anything you want, but I won't buy that.

CROW: You suppose that's in U.S. dollars, or British pounds, or Mobian
credits or... what?

TOM: Have fun storming the castle!

JOEL: Suddenly a pirate ship appeared over the horizon.

TOM: I think his Gizmonics Institute logo has taken over there.

CROW: You know, Bob spelled backwards is Bob.

TOM: "Is there *anybody* who knows what the plot is or how
to advance it? Anybody?"

CROW: But I do remember that time we met three weeks after my death!

JOEL: This is a no-bleeping zone anyway.

TOM: He's a man on a motorcycle on a mission.

CROW: I don't think this is the real Bob Newhart!

JOEL: Stephen Tramer and Thad Boyd really have captured the
subtleties of a New Yorker's speech patterns.

CROW: That's what you call it when you get bossed around by
a nun's clothes... see... 'cause it's the force of *habit*.

TOM: OK, now can you talk like Kramer from Seinfeld?

CROW: You *never* talk like that to me anymore! You don't care
about my needs!

JOEL: And now you'll need all your strength for your upcoming battle
with Crimson and Vermillion!

TOM: That's no Robotnik! That's the Death Star!

CROW: Sure, we hurt now, but someday, thirty years from now, Thad Boyd
is going to apply for a job, and the routine screening will dig
*this* editing job off the Internet, and he'll have to explain
it to a boss he's really trying hard to impress.

TOM: Yeah, but thirty more years of the Internet and that'll *be*
the right way to spell "how's about."

JOEL: Oh, I bet this folds out into George Jetson's car.

TOM: And these sharp wits are our heroes for today.

CROW: Heck, you're just driving through thick forest patrolled by evil
SwatBots ready to shoot anything that isn't camouflaged and
highly mobile! Why not get a toy wind-up car?

JOEL: I call the back-back seat!

CROW: No way! I want the back-back seat!

TOM: Gimme! It's my turn!

JOEL: We can't all ride in the back-back seat!

TOM: Why not?

CROW: All our legs'll get little spotty dot patterns all over them.

TOM: It's worth it! We all get the back-back seat!

CROW: So far, are we rooting for anybody?

JOEL: I wonder if they settled any during shipping.

CROW: This chapter is going to be fun and games until somebody
loses an eye.

TOM: He made a mistake, he rammed the Uzi and drew the hovercycle!

JOEL: [ As Robotnik ] "Who *is* it?"

TOM: [ Gruff voice, screaming ] "It's the plumber! I've come
to fix the sink!"

TOM: Considering his limitations.

CROW: And smashed his skull into an oak tree.

JOEL: This is a very well-scripted explosion.

CROW: He insulted the door until it had no self-esteem left.

TOM: Packbell left the door open for the milkman.

CROW: Bonk!

JOEL: You'd think he would've seen it.

JOEL: Herbie's only five minutes old, but in this wet air he's already
rusted out.

TOM: Must be a Miami driver.

CROW: Maybe the shooting bullets thing wasn't such a good idea.

JOEL: [ As Crotswurth ] OH NO! This is the wrong Russell Sage hall!
I'm gonna be late for the exam!

TOM: Finally, some meaningful discussion about our zoning policies!

CROW: Inside, he found Sir Galahad and...

JOEL: Hey, how'd they set up this little meeting if she was trapped
in some alternate dimension by Maxl's sneezing?

TOM: Maybe they just had it planned, like, years in advance and
got really lucky?

CROW: [ Sighing ] Maybe we could get Steve Martin to cook Thad Boyd's
brain? Just a little?

TOM: You'll love your new Hover-Badger!

ALL: Hover-Badger.

JOEL: This is some weird kind of Sam and Diane thing they have going.

TOM: So how does the Death Egg figure into this?

JOEL: "Mommy! Daddy! They're being mean to me! Mommy!"

TOM: You finally did it! You blew it all up!

CROW: Packbell is introduced to the concept of walking.

TOM: I reiterate to emphasize how urgent I find the need to move.

JOEL: If he doesn't stop that he's going to have a heap
of squished badger.

CROW: But it bounced off them with a comical squeaking noise.

JOEL: Nemer Volkswagon, ten giant steps east of the Northway, exit six.

TOM: Ooh, they have a cloak of invisibility.

CROW: Now if we could get them under the Cone of Silence.

JOEL: You know, I hope that teleporter doesn't make their molecules
scramble together.

TOM: Those of you playing along at home may want to make a
cabbie joke here.

JOEL: You have to be driving pretty recklessly to crash into your
own car.

CROW: Thus explaining why Dick Tracy won't be coming to the rescue.

TOM: And worse still, he's wearing my new dress!

JOEL: No sense wasting time looking for clues or anything.

CROW: I just remembered -- I can't drive automatic!

TOM: He has just enough time to win the race down Volcano Mountain,
if he gets the help of Racer X.

CROW: "Why don't those flying toasters ever have to rest?"

TOM: And now our celebrity panel will try do determine... what's
my line?

JOEL: [ As Jade ] I tried to tell a cabbage from a lettuce.

CROW: But if you haven't seen The Carol Channing Show, I'm not going
to bother telling you.

TOM: So that we can show the audience how fearsome a team this is,
that they're able to crack into a computer system whose
password, after six years, is *still* 'changeme'.

CROW: So I guess he won't teach.

JOEL: He blamed them for everything.

TOM: [ As Maxl ] Huh-huh, not if we see you first.

JOEL: Depardieu?

TOM: Prince?

JOEL: Michael Jackson?

CROW: Richard Pryor?

JOEL: Michael J. Fox?

CROW: Patrick Stewart?

TOM: Huh?

CROW: Didn't know that about him, did you?

TOM: See, this story is so wacky fun because the characters don't
really respond to the stuff one another says.

JOEL: This is exactly what my dad used to threaten to do if my sister
and I didn't stop punching.

TOM: 'Cause he accidentally fell into an episode of "Darkwing Duck."

CROW: You know. Before they get all overrun and touristy.

TOM: [ As Maxl ] Wait. How do I do stuff, again?

JOEL: I think it'd be more fun to meet Armin Shimmerman and
Robert Beltran live at this week's Creation Star Trek
Convention of Wild Delights.

TOM: But I would've had to look to make sure.

CROW: I just feel very strongly that things are going to be longer
and harder this time, is all.

JOEL: More help than Herbie? How much do you *want* from him?

TOM: Jade still has the Introduction to Earth Sciences book I have
to return to Mrs. Dutton in fourth period.

JOEL: I think we're back trying to hack into Robotnik's computer.

CROW: Yeah. I'm gonna guess it's "RobotnikRules."

TOM: I'm gonna guess "SonicSucks."

CROW: Why is it in all these stories computers are incredibly dumb
DOS-wannabees or mind-reading supercomputers with free will
and chipper personalities?

JOEL: They're running the new Plot OS.

TOM: OK, so maybe the password is "RobotnikIsSuper."

CROW: "SonicsABigLoser."

TOM: "IHateKnothole."

CROW: "EvilWarlordsAre#1."

CROW: "HedgehogsAreUglyAndTheirMothersDressThemFunny."

TOM: Joel? What's your guess?

JOEL: "AllOfTheAbove."

CROW: Hey! Nice trick.

TOM: How'd you know?

JOEL: You just have to talk the computer's language.

CROW: Start that Solitaire game. I want to play.

TOM: She-Hulk... Thundercat Cheetara... romance... with pictures...

JOEL: These and other four-letter words tonight, on "60 Minutes II."

CROW: Rita the cat... Romana squirrel... Rags the Tiger...

TOM: NOW COME UP HERE AND LET ME SLAP YOU SOME.

JOEL: They should've looked up the Life Jade's prefix codes.

TOM: What are they doing, having basic security precautions
on critically important objects?

CROW: They've got blankets *and* teddy bears now.

TOM: We're gonna have to drive around all day looking
for someplace to eat.

JOEL: Is that really a job you have to hurry?

CROW: Yeah, I mean, so what if you're a couple days late in it?
It's not like a delay would be the end of the world.

TOM: That he wasn't actually in this fanfic; he belonged to a shorter
one, across town.

CROW: Those level six accessees get *all* the cool stuff.

JOEL: "You ever notice 'chew' is a funny word?"

TOM: And leave behind the fresh scent of pine.

CROW: Oh, I bet we're headed for some wacky comedy about how
hackers live on junk food and caffeinated soda.

JOEL: You *will* take my commemorative state quarter honoring
South Carolina, "The Palmetto State"!

TOM: That's your generic fanfic gun.

CROW: None of us remembers how to open doors.

JOEL: Except when you were on break.

TOM: See, it's touches of personality like that that make the story
so good.

JOEL: OK, lady, I love you, bye-bye.

JOEL: This is a lot of action considering nothing's going on.

TOM: He beats the tag and... safe!

ALL: Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick Road...

JOEL: You know, you think Teleportation Rings are all over the place,
but when you really *need* one they're just gone.

CROW: The town of Nucla, Colorado once organized a Prarie Dog Hunt
in the hopes that it would bring tourists and revitalize
their economy.

TOM: That'd be Captain Kirk in any fight scene.

JOEL: Isn't that what The Incredible Hulk wears on laundry day?

TOM: A decent bagel in this town?

CROW: I bet he found a hole in the plot.

JOEL: [ Flatly ] "I really mean ouch!"

TOM: And flossed.

JOEL: And tried not to regret what he didn't have.

TOM: Lost City of Atlantis?

JOEL: Fonzie of the Future was nowhere to be seen.

CROW: That's pretty much all the personality Tracker has.

TOM: Could it be our true love?

JOEL: It does have an "I Burned Bluebrook With Julian To Get The
Life Jades" bumper sticker.

CROW: That what he gets for filling the gas tank with a can of Coke
and a packet of Pop Rocks.

TOM: He's sending a Morse code 'K'.

JOEL: Or maybe it was elves.

CROW: Aah! He somehow crossed Movie Brooklyn with Bunnie Rabbot's
accent!

JOEL: Hovercycles usually fix themselves if you just leave them alone.

TOM: "I think it's broke."

CROW: If we can just scrape the barnacles off of it.

JOEL: Live on Broadway to sold-out crowds!

TOM: Don't be ridiculous.

CROW: What, besides a voice, would say words?

JOEL: All mine! I'm rich! I'm fabulously wealthy!

TOM: And a pocket from his locket.

CROW: A flagon from his wagon?

JOEL: [ As Maxl ] "Don't hit me!"

CROW: [ As X ] "No, I'm just filling in for a me to be named later."

JOEL: Isn't that the new game show premiering just after "Blockbusters"
on most of these CBS stations?

TOM: Do you know where I could find you?

CROW: How's it hanging? What's the good word? You getting enough
oxygen? How's the weather up there? Is Kiss in town? Take
a penny, leave a penny.

JOEL: We're on an important mission to sneak into Robotropolis,
get caught, have Sonic rescue us, and escape again.

TOM: I got this itch right where I can't reach it.

CROW: And she's bigger than ever.

JOEL: I probably shouldn't have teased her My Little Pony collection.
Or dropped that cake pan on her head when she was five.

TOM: The least successful casino in Atlantic City.

JOEL: Watch out for snakes!

TOM: Are you gonna pull a quarter out of my ear?

JOEL: [ As Karl ] I'm fickle.

CROW: He ran to the very edge of the world, and fell off.

TOM: Unless somebody else tries.

JOEL: But that's, uh... like, five hundred and four dog hours.

CROW: Is that all life on Mobius or all life in the whole universe?

JOEL: And does that cover alternate universes?

TOM: Is it going to take out cute little robots too?

JOEL: And Uncle Karl made Tracker pull his finger and then
he passed out on the living room couch.

TOM: A needle pulling thread. That's pretty serious, son.

CROW, JOEL: And she's bigger than ever.

TOM: Unless you want me to move your couch again. I won't do that.

CROW: He said, "Hi, I'm Uncle Karl?"

JOEL: Hold on, let me check my notes.

CROW: I need you to hug me already!

TOM: And that's a Morse code "D".

JOEL: Jim.

CROW: He's the last of the Jedi knights.

TOM: No, there's another.

CROW: And I know you are.

JOEL: Who'd have guessed the doorway had such strong feelings
about the story?

TOM: A whole bunch of typing and a smidgen of writing.

JOEL: I mean 71 hours, 59 minutes, 55 sec... 52 second... 45 second...
uh, just a little under 72 hours.

CROW: He's been doing pirouettes this whole story.

JOEL: Tonight the part of Maxl will be played by a lazy Susan.

TOM: The direction from which the voice had *come*, please.

JOEL: And I think that's a fire code violation, too.

CROW: This fanfic is losing all its credit on technical problems.

TOM: I hung a left at the annoying guy, turned right at the annoying
girl, and here I am.

CROW: Have no idea.

TOM: But he's not wearing a shirt.

JOEL: Failure to yield. 75 dollars and three points on your license.

CROW: The yellow hat?

TOM: If it's doubly knit, should't there be like four arms in it?

CROW: You lost me on that one, Tom.

TOM: I'm just saying, you know, knit twice and all that.

JOEL: You're standing alone here.

CROW: [ As Maxl ] When did you get here?

JOEL: And Bob... is boring.

TOM: What if we look at Bob from space? Bob upside-down? Over water?
Under water? Bob as a sandwich?

CROW: We couldn't afford a new salesman, so getting a used one
was about as good.

JOEL: [ As BoB ] Um... is this thing on?

CROW: You see, Yugos are so very funny your audience will laugh
if you just mention them.

TOM: I hope the thrilling 'Bob tries to sell X a Yugo' scene is in
the prequel to this.

JOEL: It's the costume SuperChicken always wore!

JOEL: Hah! Ridiculing the Yugo still hasn't lost its comic edge!

TOM: We've got exactly the level of wackiness you usually see in
"Captain Ribman."

CROW: It's gonna take time, a whole lot of precious time.

TOM: Hoo, boy. We better brace ourselves, guys, we're in for a gale
of cliche and nonsense.

JOEL: That's pretty much the generic science fiction explanation
for everything.

TOM: Other methods involve the author forgetting what year
he said it was.

JOEL: No, wait, it's Vulcan I'm thinking of. Never mind me.

CROW: "Hi, I'm Albert Einstein."

TOM: It's just too freespirited.

JOEL: And you only spend time with your relatives when you have to.

TOM: The key evidence being the extensive footnotes Einstein left
on all his original manuscripts reading, "Ha ha ha ha ha ha,
suckers!"

ALL: You have two objects travelling in opposite directions at
light-speed, and you use one as a reference point to measure
the other's speed.

TOM: [ As Maxl ] But doesn't the necessary contraction of the
Riemannian tensors alter the spacetime coordinates of the
objects moving apart -- thus also altering the measured
velocities of both objects -- thereby keeping the relative
speed within the limits of modern relativity theories?

CROW: [ As X, aside ] "And we're trusting this guy with anything
more precious than a cake mix?"

JOEL: I just mention it to show off how little science I know.

TOM: You know, where you keep right except to pass.

CROW: Plus the rest stops in higher dimensions are cleaned better.

JOEL: Hey, this story's a crossover with Sonic the Hedgehog ...
who knew?

TOM: He will not be missed.

JOEL: Just his name, his position, where he comes from, what his
motivations are, who his family is, what his childhood was
like, what sort of food he won't eat, his favorite brand
of soda, what size bowling shoe he wears, and that he likes
using the Internet to find pictures of Sam the Sheepdog
in bikinis.

CROW: And that's all the personality Bob can afford on his
salesman's salary.

TOM: How can you avoid speaking of stuff? Sooner or later you have
to mention *something*.

JOEL: It's my bill.

TOM: Oooh, a Z-scale railroad in a briefcase, I love that.

JOEL: We've now hit the precise level of wackiness "Space Jam" had.

CROW: [ As Mandark ] "I can read your thoughts and I *am* smarter
than you! Ha ha-ha! Ha ha-ha-ha!"