Episode M07- Oil Overdose
Turn Down Lights Where Applicable
In the not too distant future,
In Earth's atmosphere,
Mike Nelson and his robot pals,
Are watching something that they fear.
Pearl, who has lost her past henchmen,
Who were hiding away inside their castle den,
She watches Mike as he goes through with it,
And, though she feels really happy, she feels bad a little bit!
"I'll send him awful sitcoms,
The worst of the best, (La-la-la!)
He'll have to sit and watch them all,
And he'll then watch all the rest! (La-la-la!)"
Now keep in mind Mike can't control
Where the sitcoms begin or end, (La-la-la!)
He'll try to keep his sanity
With the help of his robot friends!
ROBOT ROLL CALL!
CAMBOT! (Copy that!)
GYPSY! (You bet!)
TOM SERVO! (My arms don't work!)
CROOOOOW! (Being gold rules!)
If your wondering how these shows got wrote,
And about the laughter tracks (La-la-la!)
Just repeat to yourself 'It's just bad writing,
I should really just relax
For Mystery Science Theater 3000!'
(Gizmonics doors close, Cambot pans out to reveal Crow and Servo giggling to themselves on the bridge of the SOL. Servo is holding a small, seemingly fake, mobile phone. They are giggling like little school-boys. Mike walks on from the right)
MIKE: Oh, hi everyone, welcome to the Satellite Of Love! Right now, our situation is that we're trapped in some sort of time-rift-hole thing. It's a long story so-
CROW: Hey, Mike!
MIKE: Um...yeah?
TOM: We were wondering if you'd like to try out our new mobile phone! It's fun!
(Crow and Servo giggle)
MIKE: Okay...(takes the phone off Servo)...who do you want me to call?
CROW: Oh, just call anyone! It doesn't matter!
(Crow and Servo try to control their laughter)
MIKE: Well, okay then! You know, I've always wanted to call up one of those pyschic hotlines! Like the ones on TV...people always seem so satisfied by those guys! Besides, I've been having a little trouble with that magic 8-ball that you guys gave me a while back, so it's been kinda hard for me to make any real decisions about life-
CROW: Would you just dial the damn number!?!?
MIKE: Huh? Number? (Looks at the phone) Oh, yeah!
(Mike presses one of the numbers on the phone, and the phone makes a small, squeaky noise. The phone appears to be made out of soft rubber or something)
TOM: Hahahahaha!!! Hee-hee-hee!!!!
CROW: Man, we got you there, Mike!! Hahahaha!!!
(Both Crow and Servo roll around on the desk, laughing their heads off)
MIKE: Uh....guys, this is a toy for dogs. This is something you give your pet to chew on.
CROW: (Still laughing) No way, Mike...heheheh....it's a joke telephone!
TOM: (Also in hysterics) And we got one over on you, Mike! Hahahaha!
MIKE: No, you did not! This is a dog chew-toy! This is not meant to be used as a practical joke device of any kind!
TOM: Whatever, Mike, we still pulled the wool over your eyes!
MIKE: No way! Come on!
(Commercial Sign light flashes)
MIKE: Oh, rats, we got Commercial Sign...we'll be right back...
(Commercial Sign)
(Fade back to the Bridge of the Satellite. Crow and Servo are attempting to pull the same joke on Gypsy)
GYPSY: So, you guys want me to call someone up on the phone?
CROW: Yeah!
GYPSY: Anybody at all?
TOM: Anybody whatsoever, Gyps! We don't care about the cost, money is not an object, as far as we two 'bots are concerned!
GYPSY: Well, I haven't got any arms...how do I dial?
CROW: Uh, we'll just have to get someone whose arms work to do it for you...
(Andrew walks by)
TOM: Oh, hey, Andy baby! Could you do us a favor and dial a number on this phone for Gypsy?
ANDREW: (Takes the phone) Sure, who do you want calling, Gyps?
GYPSY: Richard Basehart!
ANDREW: Okay...(pushes a few buttons on the phone, it makes the same squeaky noise as before)
(Crow and Servo crack up, yet again)
GYPSY: Uh....(Begins shaking)...guys, something's-
TOM: We got you! Got you both good!
CROW: *hyuck-hyuck-hyuck*!
ANDREW: Woah, hang on a minute you guys! Something's the matter with Gypsy!
(Gypsy is shaking like a leaf. Crow and Servo stop laughing)
CROW: Hey, Gypsy, it was just a joke! We're sorry...
(A large bulge appears in the tubing leading from Gypsy's head. It seems that she has something stuck in her serpent-like body, and it's trying to climb out of it)
TOM: Hey, uh, Gypsy...you seem to have something caught in your-
(As the bulge reaches Gypsy's head, Gypsy opens her mouth and out comes Enoch, the leader of the Demon Dogs)
TOM: Aaaaaahhh!!! Get it away from me!
ENOCH: Ah! Who has summoned me from my resting place inside the big purple one?
CROW: Summoned you? I didn't summon you...did you, Andrew?
ANDREW: I don't remember doing any summoning today...
ENOCH: One of you must have summoned me! I distinctly heard the call of the Chew-Phone! It is a sacred and very well kept secret among our people! Now, who was it?
ANDREW: Well...I squeezed the chew-phone-
ENOCH: You? You possess the ancient relic?
ANDREW: (Holds up the toy phone) You mean this?
ENOCH: (Bows down in praise) Ah! You are the chosen one! You must come with me to our world and sit upon the Bone-Throne for all Demon-Dogs to behold the sacred Chew-Toy!
ANDREW: Well, I really don't have time for that, you see. I'm stuck up in space watching these bad movies and stuff. Maybe later, okay?
ENOCH: No! You must come with me now! My whole race's belief system depends on it!
ANDREW: Well, it's not really my chew-phone...these two robots gave it to me.
ENOCH: Then...they are the chosen ones!
CROW: Us?
TOM: Nuh-uh! No way!
CROW: Besides, we don't *own* the chew-phone...we ordered it from K-Mart last week. They were really fast in shipping it up here, considering we're in a time-rift.
ENOCH: Then, I must find this...K-Mart...and take it back to my home world to be worshipped!
(Enoch jumps out of the air-lock, arfing and woofing)
CROW: Well, that'll happen.
(Red Communication light flashes)
ANDREW: Oh, I'll get that! (Presses button)
(Cut to inside the Widowmaker. Pearl and Mrs. Hat are still driving along inside the time-rift. Mrs. Hat has taken the wheel, and Pearl is sitting next to her, one arm operating Mrs. Hat, the other dipping into a family-size pack of cheez-its)
PEARL: Ah, there you are, Andy-Pandy! I won't dwell on this one, even if your dearest grandaddy isn't there yet.
MRS. HAT: Tell them about today's experiment!
PEARL: Yeah, I was just getting to that! Okay, fellas, listen up. Your sitcom this week is a stunningly confusing British show called "The Young Ones". It stars Rick Mayall, Adrian Edmonson, and a whole other hoarde of annoying Brits that'll turn your stomach inside-out!
MRS. HAT: Plus, we've got a disturbing South Park short for you!
(The Widowmaker suddenly jerks up and down, and there's a small yelping sound)
PEARL: Hey, sounds like we hit something!
MRS. HAT: Check it out, Demon Dog road-kill!
PEARL: Mrs. Hat, did you ever even get a driver's license?
MRS. HAT: Well, I was only created a few weeks ago!
PEARL: No excuse. Just send them the experiment, 'kay?
MRS. HAT: You bet!
(Cut to SOL. Mike walks onto the Bridge and looks around)
MIKE: So, did I miss anything?
(Movie Sign)
ANDREW: Daah! We got Sitcom Sign, we'll tell ya later!
(Mike grabs Servo and they all run into the Theater, except Gypsy)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Mike, Andrew, and the 'bots walk into the Theater)
MIKE: A South Park short??
TOM: Uh-huh...
MIKE: Geez, it's almost as if Pearl enjoyed sending us crap like this!
Do any of you own that cool Game Star Craft by Blizzard?
CROW: Is this gonna be multiple choice? I'm good at those!
What would happen if the boys played it?
ANDREW: Which boys?
TOM: I think it just means boys in particular.
MIKE: Master Harold and the Boys, what would happen if *they* played Star Craft?
CROW: Now, if the Boyz In The Hood played Star Craft, that would be fun!
Oh yea,
ANDREW: (Town Crier) Oh yay, oh yay!
most of the Jokes would be understood by a person whos played Starcraft.
TOM: Well, now you've just gone and shortened down your target audience to a microscopic proportion!
South Craft
MIKE: South Craft, Design, and Technology. Lessons begin at three.
[Kyles House, the others arrive]
CROW: So, everyone in the world apart from Kyle arrive? Man, he has a big house!
Stan: Whats up?
Kyle: I've found another cool game.
ANDREW: Another one? Man, you should start a collection!
Eric: Now what, more Creatures?
MIKE: Arooga! Arooga! Warning, the following fanfic was written by a computer nerd!
Kyle: No! This game called Star Craft.
TOM: As previously mentioned.
You can be 2 kinds of Aliens or humans
CROW: Two kinds of humans?
and you can tell them to do stuff like build and kill people!
MIKE: Maybe we could use it to kill Adam Sandler.
Stan: Cool!
ANDREW: (Stan) Even though it's a boring, over-used, repetitive premise, it's still cool!
[They start watching Kyle play]
TOM: What fun they must have watching other people revel in their wealth.
[Later]
Stan: That was cool!
CROW: If I had a dime for everytime that guy said "Cool"...
ANDREW: You'd have three dimes.
Kyle: Hey why don't you guys buy it,
MIKE: (Eric) Because we don't like it.
we could call each other and play head-to-head.
CROW: (Stan) I thought it was called Star Craft?
TOM: (Kyle) D'oh!
Eric: yea, but only 3 people could play, since Kenny can't afford it.
ANDREW: If Cartman was Robin Hood, he'd rob from the rich and laugh at the poor.
Kenny: (SHut up cartman)
MIKE: Wow, Kenny's hood causes him to mis-place his capital letters!
[The boys bought Star Craft
TOM: Um, major plot hole right there. You might wanna have it looked at.
and are playing eachother]
Stan: I think Terran kick ass
CROW: Is that one of the jokes that we can only get if we play Star Craft?
ANDREW: Who knows? More to the point, who cares?
Kyle: Zerg can burrow and get those big guys.
MIKE: Ha, that's a little general isn't it? "Those big guys".
Stan: I bet Cartman hates Protoss because they look like visitors.
TOM: Cartman hates visitors because that means he has to feed somebody else rather than himself.
Eric: THAT WAS JUST A DREAM!!!
Kyle: NO cartman, that was real.
CROW: Geez, they sat down by that joke and milked it dry, and now they won't leave it alone!
[The phone rings, Kyle gets it]
Kyle: It's for you, Stan.
ANDREW: Wait, how do they know Stan's at Kyle's house?
TOM: It's called plot-bending, get used to it.
Stan: hello?
Wendy: Hi Stan.
[Stan Pukes]
MIKE: A classic example of writer's block is to continue using the same joke over and over again.
Kyle: Watch it Stan, thats my new phone.
MIKE: A classic example of writer's block is to continue using the same joke over and over again.
CROW: Didn't you just say that, Mike?
MIKE: Yeah...I have no idea what happened.
Stan: Uh, whats up.
Wendy: I got this new game called Star Craft.
TOM: (Stan) New? Star Craft isn't new! It's at least two days old by now!
Stan: US TOO!
ANDREW: Stan's been possessed by the Evil One again...
Kyle: What?
Stan: Wendy's got Star Craft.
CROW: So, shall we just go over the plot *one more time*? I didn't quite catch it the first fourteen times.
Eric: Thats not a game for that Tree-hugger.
MIKE: Manon Cadoret?
TOM: D'oh.
Stan: Shutup Cartman!
Kyle: Y'know, you could ask her to be on a team with you against me and Cartman.
ANDREW: So, we're totally ignoring Kenny right now?
TOM: They're just building him up for his big role at the end where he dies.
Stan: Hey Wendy...[Talks for a while, he has to explain it]
CROW: Well, thankyou for sparing us the details.
MIKE: This isn't so bad. It's childish in it's simplicity. No stupid, unbelievable plot, no really offensive remarks.
TOM: Don't worry, those'll be along real soon.
MIKE: *whimper*
Stan: She said ok.
ANDREW: (Stan) She also said "Thanks for sending my phone-bill through the roof".
Kyle: Cool.
[Later, Wendy and Stan are at Stan's]
MIKE: Are ya feelin' lonely and blue?
TOM: Got nothin' else to do?
CROW: Longin' for something' nice and new?
ANDREW: Come to Stan's, we care about you!
Stan: ...And Thats how that works
TOM: (Stan) And this is how this works, and that, and these!
Wendy: aha..
CROW: She stopped listening about two hours ago.
Stan: Now watch this
ANDREW: (Stan) I'm gonna show you how those work!
[Stan starts klicking on a Zerg Hydralisk, annoying him.
MIKE: (Wendy) Is this in aid of anything? Is it productive?
ANDREW: (Stan) Nah, I'm just doing what we've been doing to audiences all over the globe for two years.
MIKE: (Wendy) What's that?
ANDREW: (Stan) Pissing it off!
The Zerg notices Wendy]
Zerg: QUEEN....
TOM: (British) Oy! Leave the bloody queen out of this!
CROW: (British) Yeah, leave the old girl out of a ruddy fanfic like this!
Stan: Whoa, never said that before.
MIKE: (Stan) Normally it just says "Leave me alone, you annoying brat! I don't wanna be in your stoopid show!".
[Stans screen breaks,
ANDREW: Jaws 3D!
the zerg steals Wendy]
TOM: A Wendy was stolen in down-town South Park today...were you there?
Wendy: WHAT THE?!
Stan: WENDY!!
CROW: (Stan) Use full sentences!
[The Zerg starts spiting at Stan]
MIKE: (Zerg) I'm filled with spite for you, Stan Marsh...
Stan: ACK!!
ANDREW: (Martian) Ack-ack-ack!
{Commercial}
MIKE: (Commercial) Yes, you can buy Star-Craft for only 60 dollars! We are not responsible for any child disappearances that may occur.
[Next morning]
Stan: GUYS!!!
TOM: It took him a whole day to get to them and tell them?
CROW: Stan's a slow walker.
ANDREW: That happens when you're made out of cardboard.
Kyle: What?
Stan: Wendy and I were playing Star craft,
CROW: That's right, fanfic, go over the plot one more time...
and somehow the Zerg thing that spits came out and stole Wendy!
MIKE: When Zergs Spit...today on Fox...
Kyle: What?!
Stan: I tried playing a game, to get her back, but they whooped my ass.
TOM: Whoop-whoop-whoop!
Kyle: Funky!
MIKE: (James Brown) Huh! Funk it! Get on up! Jump back, kiss myself!
Eric: Maybe they like Wendy.
[Stan stares at Cartman]
CROW: (Stan) My cardboard hair is furious!
Eric: AY!! WHAY AIN't YOU PISSED?
ANDREW: Little miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and "whay".
Kyle: Why would they want Wendy?
Stan: I dunno. Hey! lets ask John.
MIKE: Oh, well, I can see the- WHO?!?
CROW: I think this is what's called "Putting yourself in your own crappy fanfic"!
Kyle: Why?
Stan: I dunno, he might know.
ANDREW: (Stan) Plus it gives the writer a chance to put himself in the plot.
[John's Place]
Stan: JOHN!
TOM: Shane! Come back, Shane!
John: What.
Stan: Have you played Star Craft?
John: Oh sure.
CROW: (John) Who *hasn't* played Starcraft?
(Andrew and Mike raise their hands)
Why?
Stan: We were playing, and some how, the Zerg Stole Wendy.
TOM: "The Zerg Stole Wendy", a classic tale of love not meant to be, this Fall on NBC.
John: What do you mean?
Stan: They broke the screen, and stole Wendy.
ANDREW: Has this fanfic lapped itself yet?
John: Really?
MIKE: (Stan) No, I just made it all up...dopes...
Kyle: we were thinking, why would they want Wendy?
CROW: Oh, they *want* her!
TOM: In the worst way!
Stan: Before they took Wendy, one of the spitters said "Queen"
ANDREW: (Freddie Mercury) Oh mamma-mia, mamma-mia!
TOM: Mamma-mia, let me go!
John: Queen?
CROW: Andrew?
MIKE: William?
TOM: Charles?
ANDREW: Fergie?
TOM: Chief?
CROW: McCloud!
[John thinks, then looks surprized]
ANDREW: Surprize! Happy Birthday to you...
John: OH MY GOD!!
TOM: (John) They killed-...oh, wait...too early...
[Later]
Stan: THEY WOULD WHAT?
CROW: Yah! Quit yelling! I'm watching!
John: the Zerg once stole some girl, and infested her. She became their new Queen.
MIKE: That's exactly how the British Royalty system's gonna end up.
Kyle: did she get saved?
John: No, i think she died.
ANDREW: And yet, for some reason, people still buy Star Craft. Go figure.
Stan: DAMNIT!
[The Zerg Hive]
TOM: Bzzzzzzzzzzz-
MIKE: No, Servo, a *Zerg* hive.
TOM: Oh, darn.
Wendy: Where am I?
[Wendy is stuck in a cuccoon]
CROW: Ah, the first cuccoon of Spring-time!
ANDREW: *cuckoo*! Oh, sorry, I mean, *cuccoon*!
Wendy: WHOA!
MIKE: (Wendy) I must've been *really* drunk!
Zerg Overmind: My child, soon you will be born and a part of us.
TOM: (Wendy) Um, which part? It's not gonna be a naughty part, is it?
Wendy: Who the hell are you?
MIKE: (Overmind) I'm the Hell me.
OverMind: Your father,
ANDREW: (Wendy) No, that's not true...that's impossible!!!
CROW: (Overmind) Search your feelings, you know it to be true.
you will soon be a part of us, and be my queen.
TOM: (Wendy) Well, my first rule as Queen is that everyone has to wear pink frilly aprons, and say "Anchovies!" before every meal.
Wendy: Wheres Stan.
Overmind: Stan?
MIKE: (Overmind) Stan the man?
MY DAUGTER SPEAKS OF THE TERRAN RULER!
ANDREW: Your dog turd?
CROW: D'oh.
[Some Zerg growl]
overmind: He will die, my daughter, and you and I will rule.
CROW: (Overmind) Huh-huh, we rule.
Wendy: DON'T KILL STAN.
Overmind: You will obey.
TOM: (Wendy) But you didn't tell me to do anything!
Wendy: TRUST ME. YOU DON'T WANNA F**K WITH WENDY TESTABURGER.
MIKE: (Overmind) You're right there. I was thinking we might get seperate beds for when we're king and queen, that okay with you?
Overmind: You will learn Child.
ANDREW: So, let's recap. Wendy's part of the Zerg, but she's also their child, and their queen? This is so confusing!
[Stans room, Johns on the computer]
CROW: (Stan) So, when are you gonna get down from there?
TOM: (John) I like it up here!
John: Ok. If we get the Protoss to help us get Wendy and get to the Hive, we will surely stop them before she's infested.
TOM: Heh, this guy talks like Adam West.
Stan: Hurry!
[Later]
MIKE: Four days later.
Zealot: So, my friends, you seek help to stop the Zerg?
ANDREW: (Stan) Uh, no, we just want my girl back. You gonna help us or what?
I fully aid you
Eric: uhh...
CROW: (Eric) It's my line, right?
Zealot: You look really fimilar.
TOM: Femme-ilar? Well, actually, he is kinda femme-ish.
Kyle: RUN CARTMAN!
MIKE: (Kyle) The thing that's not real is gonna kill you, even though it's simply a group of pixels on a screen and can't really cause any physical pain, or any physical reaction at all, to anything on the other side of the screen!
Zealot: Fear not,
TOM: (Sings) Said he, for mighty dread consumed their troubled minds...
my son. I will help
John: Kick ass!
Kyle: Wait. your Cartman's father?
ANDREW: (Eric) No, that's not true....that's imp-
TOM: Uh, we already did that, Andy.
ANDREW: Well, I like it!
Zealot: No my son, i...
Stan: YOUR KYLES DAD TOO?
John: No, forget it.
MIKE: (John) It wasn't funny in the first place, so just stop it.
[Zerg Hive]
Zealot: Ok, it's just around there.
TOM: (Zealot) You take a left, then a right, then straight ahead, you can't miss it.
Stan: Killer!
MIKE: (Zealot) Why yes I am, how did you guess?
Thanks dude.
Zealot: Dude? Hmmmm...
CROW: (Zealot) What was I thinking, helping them...
[Zealot walks away]
ANDREW: (Zealot) Finally, I'm out of this fanfic!
John: Ok lets go.
TOM: So, when did John get superiority in this thing?
MIKE: Beats me.
[A Zergling walks up]
ANDREW: (Zergling) Hi, you guys got change for a fifty?
All: AHHHH!!!
ANDREW: (Zergling) Um, is that a no?
{Commercial}
All: AHHHH!!!
CROW: (Stan) We got Commercial Sign!
John: SUCK THIS!
[John wacks the Zerg with a near-by stick]
ANDREW: And the drama is thwarted.
John: OK, i'll go undercover.
TOM: He's a detective?
CROW: Yeah. He's John, P.I.
stay here
ANDREW: (Stan) Hey, wait, why are we listening to him? This is our show!
MIKE: (Kyle) But it's *his* fanfic.
ANDREW: (Stan) D'oh.
[John rips open the Zerglings body and gets inside]
TOM: How charming.
CROW: (Stan) Well, now I'm glad we're not going with him!
[Hive, john arrives]
John (in Zerg Talk): I'm new, so tell me whats up.
ANDREW: Oh, he's good.
CROW: He's a real cardboard Clouseau.
Zerg: We have taken a child,
MIKE: (Zerg) We're gonna slice it up and send little bits of her back to her rightful owners. Wanna help?
soon she'll be the Overminds queen.
John (zerg talk): Where is the queen to-come and the overmind.
TOM: (Zerg) Heh, queen-to-come, I'll have to remember that one for the big party afterward, that's a good one...
[Zerg points]
Zerg: there.
[John goes inside, meets the overmind]
CROW: "Johnny meets the Overmind", a story of two totally different minds clashing to forward one purpose! This Fall, on ABC.
Overmind: hello my child.
John (zerg talk): hello, wheres the Queen.
MIKE: (Overmind) I'm not gonna tell you that the Queen is inside that coccoon right over there with the- D'OH!
TOM: *waa-waa-waa-waaaaa*!
Overmind: The queen may be unseen.
ANDREW: (Overmind) In other words, the Queen might not be seen. Or, to put it another way-
MIKE: (John) I get the idea!!
John: Oh?
[John gets out and starts kicking ass,
MIKE: A classic example of writer's block is also to just give up and take the easy route out.
the boys come in and join]
CROW: (John) Didn't I tell you guys to wait where you were?
TOM: (Kyle) We got bored!
[The egg hatches,
MIKE: Didn't it used to be a coccoon?
wendy looks messed up]
ANDREW: Bad hair day for Wendy.
Stan: Wendy?
Wendy: join us Stan.
ANDREW: Join us, won't you?
Stan: IM TOO LATE.
MIKE: Well, better late than never, Stan!
TOM: (Stan) Shuttup.
[THE PROTOSS BREAK IN]
CROW: Did they have to break in? They could've just knocked.
Zealot: My son,
TOM: Is everybody related to each other in this fanfic?!?
i told my war Buddys about this, we wanna help. COME ON DUDES!
ANDREW: And so another civilisation is crushed.
MIKE: By the Zerg?
ANDREW: No, by this crappy fanfic.
[They fight as well, and uninfest Wendy]
CROW: (Protoss) Well, that was easy! I didn't know un-infesting was so fun!
TOM: (Protoss) Yeah, it gives you a nice, warm feeling!
Stan: C'mon Wendy
[Stan Picks up Wendy]
MIKE: (Wendy) That's very kind of you, Stan, but I can walk...Stan?
[An ultralisk walks up to kenny]
Kenny: Huh?
ANDREW: There's the wind-up...
[Kenny gets ripped up by The ultralisk]
ANDREW: ...and the kill!
Kyle: OH MY GOD, THEY KILLED KENNY!, YOU BASTARD!
ALL: D'oh!
CROW: Could we not just have one South Park episode where Kenny doesn't die?
ANDREW: Actually, Crow, there is-
CROW: Shuttup!
[Next morning]
Stan: It's good to have things back to normal.
TOM: (Stan) Well, Kenny died...but otherwise, things are looking peachy!
[Wendy arrives]
Wendy: i wanted to thank you for saving my life.
MIKE: (Wendy) With *these*!
CROW: D'oh! Mike!
TOM: We gotta go, guys...
MIKE: Oh, alright...(Picks up Servo, they all get up to leave)
Stan: well, I know a way
ANDREW: (Stan) Well, we could go play Star Craft!
[They almost kiss, Kyle comes]
ALL: EWWWWWW!!!!!!!!
CROW: That is a little more information than we needed!!!
ANDREW: I will never look at another eight-year old again!
Kyle: Hey guys! I GOTTA NEW GAME!
[Holds up Quake 2]
MIKE: This fanfic is just a commercial for these games...
All ('cept Kyle): COOL!
John: oh S**t.
TOM: Wait, so, John says "Cool!" along with the others, yet he didn't like it in the end?
MIKE: Nevermind, let's just go...
end theme: Those who play Quake 2 would know, that song for the begining of Quake 2.
(Mike, Andrew, and the 'bots leave the Theater)(Gizmonics doors close, Cambot pans out to reveal Crow and Servo standing near Mike, who is encased in a coccoon just like the one from the fanfic)
MIKE: Oh, welcome back to the Satellite everybody. Tom and Crow got so inspired by today's short that they decided it would be a fun idea to put me in this thing. It's kinda like when you're at the beach and some annoying little kid covers you in sand, but you can't tell him not to because that's just not polite. Stupid toddlers...you know, it should me made illegal for those little guys to go on the beach without trunks! Man, I mean, it's not as if they're any different from us grown-ups! Geez, the amount of time I had to cover my eyes just so that I didn't catch a glimpse of-
CROW: Uh, Mike?
MIKE: Huh?
TOM: You're meant to be keeping still so the metamorphosis takes effect.
MIKE: Oh, I'm terribly sorry...I got a little carried away with explaining the-
CROW: Just shuttup while we turn you into a bug!!!
MIKE: A bug?!? You said you'd make me more of a man!
(There's an awkward pause)
MIKE: Uh...not that I'm unhappy with the way Mother Nature made me! I'm as fit as a fiddle, as flawed as any other human being!
CROW: We decided that it'd be much more fun to turn you into a ant, Mike. Sorry, but it's just the way our little robot minds work!
TOM: Plus, it means we get more chances to mock you!
MIKE: Oh, geez! You guys!
(Crow and Servo giggle)
MIKE: What did you make this thing out of, anyway?
TOM: Oh, nothing really. A few paperclips, a washing-up liquid bottle, a couple of rolling pins, gasoline, a beaver-
(Gypsy comes on and knocks into the coccoon, which quickly falls apart)
GYPSY: Oh, sorry!
CROW: Man, I knew we shoulda used glue to hold it together, and not cheese!
TOM: Hey, don't blame the cheese! It's your shoddy worksmanship that ruined it!
(Mike stands up, he has two antennae on his forehead)
MIKE: Now this is not funny, you guys!
CROW: Oh, I beg to differ Mike! It's hilarious!!!
(Crow and Servo start laughing)
GYPSY: What happened, Mike?
MIKE: Well, ya see-
(Commercial Sign)
MIKE: Grr...stupid Commercial Sign! I'll tell you later.
(Commericals)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Mike, Andrew, and the 'bots enter)
ANDREW: Hey Mike, are those antennae, or are you just happy to see me?
MIKE: Oh, shuttup!
[OPENING SCENE:
TOM: I'm opening the scene now!
The four boys are walking up to a two-level house,
CROW: Aren't they supposed to be called storeys?
MIKE: Yeah, but the writers wanted their to be no story in this episode whatsoever.
very similar to their old one,
ANDREW: It probably is their old one! Darn budget cuts...
the house that was demolished.
MIKE: The plot thickens.
CROW: Huh?
MIKE: I mean the plot is thick.
Neil is carrying a suitcase and a guitar, Vyvyan has a duffel bag and skeleton,
TOM: Only the British could turn something like moving into a new home to a non-stop comedy romp!
Rick has several bags,
CROW: If I were a hormone-driven teenager, I'd be tempted to say "Hey, he's carrying his bags!"...but I'm not, so I won't.
and Mike has his suitcase.]
ANDREW: (Mike) My very own suitcase, what more could I ask for?
Rick: Oh, bloody heck!
TOM: Heheh...British people...you can't beat 'em!
CROW: Well, you can. At most things.
TOM: Yeah, but at comedy, they rule supreme!
CROW: You feeling okay, Tom? The British Empire has yet to produce a long-lasting comedy series that withstands the course of time, ya feeb.
Is this the new house?
Neil: Well, I think it's very beautiful, Rick.
MIKE: I think he's been spending too much time around houses.
Mike: Oh, it just means a change from the old one.
ANDREW: That didn't really contribute to either argument.
Vyvyan: Yeah, just some new leaves on the ground.
CROW: Leaves...yeah, you buy a house for the leaves...
Rick: Well, I think it looks like a giant lavatory.
TOM: Yeah, it's about to be filled with some great big turds.
Neil: Come on, it's not bad. [Opens the gate,
TOM: *Crrreeeeeeaaaaaakk*
climbs the stairs to the front door]
ANDREW: (Neil) Um, are you guys gonna follow?
MIKE: Man, who put all those stairs in front of the door?
Look, it's got a letter box.
CROW: The Letter-box edition of The Letter Box! See all the bits you never saw before, including the part with the letters!
That's going to be really useful.
Rick: For what?
TOM: (Neil) For letters and stuff!
Neil: For looking at them when people knock.
ANDREW: I think a re-assessment of that sentence is in order.
Vyvyan: We had a front door at the last house.
MIKE: Poor Vyvyan, always living in the past...quit living in the past!
Rick: Yes, Vyvyan, but it was nailed to the ceiling in the living room!
CROW: That way, people can get from the living room to the attic with much more convenience.
Mike: Rick, it had to be done.
Vyvyan: Yeah! I had to! I was drunk!
MIKE: So the blame is totally lifted off Vyvyan.
Mike: Just give me the key. [Rick removes a key on a string around his neck, hands it to Mike]
TOM: I think he's being a little too protective of that key.
ANDREW: Well, you never know when the next front-door key mugger is gonna come around the corner.
Watch this very closely.
TOM: (Magician) What you're about to see is an illusion, an act of prestitigitation...
[Mike opens the door with the key] You see, I used to be a cat burglar.
CROW: Uh-oh, I sense an obvious pun coming up...
Neil: Oh, really?
Mike: Yeah! I got a Swiss bank account with 2000 bloody cats in it! Come on.
CROW: And there it is ladies and gents!
[Leads them in]
MIKE: Lead on, Mike-Duff.
Neil: All right.
[Next to the door is a large Sunflower and a statue of "The Thinker"]
ANDREW: Geez, they must have a really big entrance hall...
Thinker: More bloody students?!
Sunflower: Oh, shut up. And get some clothes on!
MIKE: Now, I can understand the Thinker talking, but the sunflower boggles me...
CROW: Sunflowers tend to do that to people, Mike.
[Rick and Vyvyan run upstairs.
TOM: (Rick) Prance-prance-prance-prance-prance.
Neil kicks a knee-high pile of envelopes in the front hall.]
Neil: Wow! Look at all these letters!
ANDREW: (Neil) I could make a letter castle and we could play pirates! Woo-hoo!
I thought Mr. Balowski said the last lot only moved out yesterday.
Mike: They did, but they were illiterate.
MIKE: Which clearly indicates that they were uncapable of tidying things away.
Neil: But they were philosophy students.
Mike: So?
Neil: [pause] Oh.
CROW: (Neil) I just realises the obvious joke that I had set up without my knowledge. What a stupid person I am. Ha-ha-ha.
[Rick is attempting to keep Vyvyan out of his room]
TOM: Ah, he's playing hard to get!
ANDREW: He's very shy, he doesn't like doing things on the first date...
Rick: Vyvyan, this is my bedroom!
Vyvyan: Oh yeah?
CROW: A brilliant come-back by Mr. Edmonson there.
Rick: Yes, I was here first!
Vyvyan: [pushes his way in] You got any witnesses?!
MIKE: (Rick) Uh, the gun-man on the grassy null saw me...
Rick: Look, I don't need witnesses!
ANDREW: (Rick) I need toilet-paper, and lots of it!
Just get off my property!
TOM: Look familiar Mike? Pathetic British actors trying to keep you away, but then they're forced to call security because you won't stop badgering them?
Vyvyan: No.
ANDREW: Well at least he calmed down a whole deal.
Rick: [pinches Vyvyan's arm, trying to hurt him] Get out!
CROW: I'll harm you!!!
[Vyvyan, not flinching from Rick's pinch, punches Rick and knocks him down.
MIKE: Slapstick, the humor that never ages....much....
Rick throws a pipe at Vyvyan,
ANDREW: (Vyvyan) Hey, that's meant to be used for drainage purposes only! Quit playing dirty!
but misses and it flies out the window.]
TOM: And knocks out a little-old-lady who just happened to be walking by outside.
Vyvyan: [dumping out his clothes bag] Look, it must be my bedroom. All my clothes are here.
CROW: He has a bag specifically for clothes?
MIKE: (Vyvyan) Just wait till I get my book bag, and my bag bag!
Rick: [throws Vyvyan's clothes out the window]
ANDREW: Which are stolen by a passer by.
TOM: (British) Thanks mate!
No, they're not, Vyvyan.
CROW: (Rick) Your clothes are outside, which means your bedroom is the outside world!
[Vyvyan strikes a match, sets fire to the bed] All right then, have the bedroom.
MIKE: They specifically asked for a no-smoking room, too.
Vyvyan: I don't want it. It's not mine.
TOM: (Goofy) D'oh-ho, here we go again, wa-hoo!
Rick: Yes, it is!
Vyvyan: No, it isn't.
CROW: (Mitchell) BUZZ OFF KID!!!
Rick: You said it was yours just now!
Vyvyan: [pause]
ANDREW: (Vyvyan) Checking, duh....
So did you!
Rick: No, I didn't!
Vyvyan: Did!
CROW: Wake me when this is over, Mike...*yawn*...
TOM: Me too...
(Crow and Servo both fall asleep)
Rick: Didn't!
Vyvyan: Did!
ANDREW: Uh, yeah Mike, wake me too, will ya?
(Andrew slips into dreamworld)
Rick: Didn't!!
Vyvyan: DID!!
Rick: DIDN'T
CROW: (Wakes up) Dah!
DIDN'T
TOM: (Wakes up) Dah!
DIDN'T
ANDREW: (Wakes up) Huh?
DIDN'T!!!
MIKE: The British Debating Society will be right back...
Vyvyan & Rick: [together, run out the door to the stairwell, calling]
TOM: (British) When I'm calling you-ooo-oooo....
Neil, your bedroom's on fire!
CROW: (Neil) I'd better call 911....oh, wait, no, it's 999 here, isn't it.
Neil: [comes out of a bedroom across the hall]
ANDREW: (Makes a noise like an audience applauding)
MIKE: It's Neil! Whooo!
CROW: I love him! He's my favorite character!
TOM: Heheh, Neil...is there anything he won't do....
But this is my bedroom.
[Looks in the argued-over room]
Oh, no.
CROW: (Neil) My room has somehow turned into the Gates Of Hell...
[Goes into the burning room,
ANDREW: And burns to death, the end.
as Vyvyan enters the room Neil left.]
Rick: [chases Vyvyan] This is my bedroom!
MIKE: So, let's just start this scene all over again.
Vyvyan: It's mine!
TOM: She's my sister, she's my daughter, she's my sister-
[Mike opens the door to his room]
Mike: [to camera] Caption?
CROW: Um, is he openly demanding a riff? I can't think of one...
[The screen caption reads "MIKE GOES INTO HIS NEW BEDROOM"]
Thank you.
TOM: Now, if you're done bemusing the crap out of the audience, could we please continue with the plot?
[Walks in, puts his suitcase on the bed.
MIKE: His suit suitcase, as opposed to his clothes bag.
Opens the suitcase and takes out an inflatable female sex doll.
ANDREW: Yowza!
TOM: Hey, I found one of those in Crow's bedroom once.
CROW: Huh?
TOM: Only it was much smaller, and it was a paddling pool...
Takes out some lingerie and scatters it around the room,
ANDREW: Maybe someone should tell him that mice don't eat lingerie...
hanging a bra on the doorknob. Takes out a Tape player, and plays a Tape of a female voice in the throes of passion.]
CROW: Look familiar Mike?
MIKE: Shaddap...
Tape: Oh, Mike! Please! Don't stop!
TOM: (Tape) Keep on painting my house! Yes!
Oh! Oh!! Oh, no!!
ANDREW: Suddenly she's in denial...
Yes!! Yes!!!
ANDREW: Wow, she got over that phase of her life quickly.
[Mike starts whistling "That'll Be the Day".
TOM: That'll be the day, when this show makes sense.
He looks over the corner and sees Buddy Holly hanging upside down by a parachute, covered in spider webs.]
MIKE: You're watching bad-taste theatre.
Buddy: Thank you.
CROW: For....?
Mike: [stares, amazed] You're Buddy Holly!!
ANDREW: (Mike) Get out of my house, ya big fruit cake!
Buddy: That's right!
MIKE: (Buddy) You get a cookie!
You know something, I just love your English beetles.
TOM: Obvious pun on runway 4, you are clear for take off.
Mind you, after 20 years of the suckers,
ANDREW: Leeches?
I ain't got much choice!
CROW: Wow, he really talks like an American, don't he.
Mike: I thought you were dead!
Buddy: Lots of folks did,
ANDREW: Actually, Buddy, lots of folks *hoped* you were dead.
but it ain't harmed my career any. [laughs]
Mike: No. [pause] You got any new material? [grabs Tape recorder]
CROW: (Buddy) Why yes, I just bought this fine satin cloth yesterday.
Buddy: Well, it just so happens I've been writing a song up here. It's a song concerning my diet. It's called "Kinky Daddy Longlegs".
TOM: Isn't that the alternate title to Casablanca?
You wanna hear it?
Mike: Oh, yeah!
Buddy: Right now?
MIKE: (Mike) No, let's wait for half an hour while we drag out the plot and then beat it down in one fell swoop, then we'll hear your song!
Mike: Well, there's no point in hanging around.
CROW: Get it? Hanging around? Ah, forget it...
Buddy: [starts playing guitar and singing]
(Andrew and Mike cover their ears)
ANDREW: Well, he does *sound* dead.
Saturday night
Hanging round for a bite
CROW: He's a vampire?
Find a real cutie with the dust mite blues
Hangnail, high tail, fairy tale, very well
Finding anything that I can chew
TOM: (Mike) Is this song gonna rhyme at all today, Buddy?
Mike: [punching numbers into a calculator]
MIKE: Could you punch Buddy instead?
Records and Tapes. Videos. Overseas sales.
ANDREW: These are all things which have no significance to a show like The Young Ones.
Cable TV. 60 percent McCartney, 40 percent me. It's got to be 25 million at least.
CROW: 25 million pennies.
Buddy: Coo coo daddy longlegs
Rough it up, rough it up, oh oh oh oh
TOM: Yes, when Buddy Holly gets writer's block, he simply repeats the word "Oh" over and over again.
Rain fly pie with a mosquito side salad
23 years on a meat-free diet
Beetles, crickets, gonna get you sick
MIKE: As will this song, and this show.
It's here's a little sucker and you ought to try it
Coo coo, daddy longlegs
Hope it makes more money than "Peggy Sue"-ue
Ha ha ha ha ooooh
ANDREW: In an increasing lack of laughter from the audience, Mr. Holly was forced at gun-point to laugh for them.
[Buddy's parachute lets loose and he crashes down, his head breaking through the floor.
CROW: See, that's why you shouldn't make your floor out of paper mache.
Mike sighs, puts down the calculator, goes over to Buddy]
ANDREW: (Mike) Now where'm I gonna find a lame, forgotten song writer?
Mike: Well, I'll probably get a few quid on the guitar.
TOM: Yeah, just forget totally that you've got the dead body of Buddy Holly, sure.
[The screen tumbles and fades out.]
MIKE: Looks like somebody forgot to fasten the joints on the screen again.
[SCENE: Neil is putting a pot of water on the stove in the kitchen.]
CROW: (Neil) I think I'll have a cup of boiling water, that'll quench my thirst.
Neil: Lucky the guys told me my bedroom was on fire. I might have gone to sleep and burned to death.
ANDREW: Yeah, and then there'd be no lame stereotype to brighten up the show.
Not that I ever sleep much anyway, cause I have to spend most of my time in the kitchen, having a really bad time.
TOM: Well, now, that's odd! When I'm in the kitchen I'm normally having the time of my life...I guess this guy should get out more, see the world, maybe then he'll appreciate the true nature of the kitchen.
CROW: Either that or maybe you just enjoy kitchens too much, Servo.
[Waves his arms]
MIKE: (Neil) Touch-down!
Hello, kitchen. Hello, hello, my name's Neil, but don't bother remembering, cause I'll probably soon be dead anyway.
ALL: Yay!
[Opens cupboard,
CROW: Ah, don't open that door, McGee!
and a stack of pots and pans comes crashing down at his feet]
ANDREW: (Pots) Forgive us! Have mercy!
Great.
[Reaches up, removes a teapot]
The only thing left in the cupboard was a teapot.
TOM: Thanks for pointing it out to the blind people who're watching, Neil.
And that's filthy. Thanks, Mr. Balowski! Thanks for giving us the oldest, dirtiest teapot in the world!
CROW: You know, if it's the oldest teapot in the world, won't it be worth something?
MIKE: I think he was over-emphasising, Crow.
CROW: Well, he should tell us when he's gonna do that.
[Starts rubbing it with his sleeve.
ANDREW: I'm gonna steer well clear of that one.
Smoke comes out and a genie appears.]
TOM: That happened to me once, when I was rubbing Mike's bong-
MIKE: Hold it right there, Servo.
Oh, wow! Just look at this mess. You know, I wish, just once, just once this wouldn't happen to me.
MIKE: And Neil Innes was never again picked up for a television appearence.
[The genie points his finger, and the pots fly back up into the cupboard.]
CROW: The Genie has the power to reverse the film.
Oh, yeah. Very Zen.
Vyvyan: [walks in] Hi, Neil. [looks at the kitchen] Is this some sort of sick joke?
ANDREW: Well, it *is* The Young Ones.
Why isn't supper ready? You haven't done a bloody thing, have you, Neil?!
Neil: Well, I'm sorry, Vyvyan, but considering none of you helped me unpack or do anything at all,
TOM: You need help to do anything at all? Geez, you must be one lazy guy!
and considering I'm not feeling very well today, actually, no, it's not ready! I don't have six pairs of hands, you know.
CROW: Well, try working at a toxic waste dump, that might help.
I wish I had, but I haven't!
[In a puff of smoke, Neil has arms covering his torso.]
Oh, wow! I have!
ANDREW: (Neil) Now I can multi-task while washing up!
TOM: Wow, imagine the possibilites of having six arms...I mean, you could....uh....
CROW: Yeah, you could...um....
[The genie goes back in the pot.]
MIKE: But the Genie just got off pot! That's a bad habit...
Yes! Yeah, yeah, of course! Yeah, yeah!
CROW: I couldn't agree more.
I've got six pairs of hands, Vyv! It's amazing!
Vyvyan: [looking in the cupboard, not seeing Neil's transformation] Neil, where's that emergency set of spaghetti hoops we brought?
TOM: Ah, those are for when you run out of rope and you need to lasso a horse with spaghetti instead.
Neil: [runs upstairs] Rick, Rick, you're going to freak, man!
ANDREW: (Neil) Our ratings actually went up a notch!
Vyvyan: You haven't made the tea, Neil! Neil?! Brilliant. Brilliant. I suppose I even have to make my own bloody tea!
MIKE: Make your tea, by all means, but don't make it bloody. It's disturbing.
Neil: [on stair landing] Rick, come and look. Rick? Come and take a look at this, Rick! You're going to freak!
CROW: So, the directing philosophy of this show is "Keep repeating your lines, hopefully we'll get through this together".
[Vyvyan pours hot water in the teapot. The genie screams in pain,
TOM: (Genie) I regret nothing!
and Neil's arms disappear without him noticing.]
I've got six pairs of hands! I'm Vishnu!
ANDREW: It's lucky he's *not* Vishnu, cause if he was we'd be in a whole lotta trouble...
Rick: [sees the now-normal Neil] Dear oh dear, you'd do anything to try and impress me, wouldn't you, Neil?
MIKE: (Rick) You want my body, and you'll do anything to get it.
[Goes downstairs, leaving Neil to figure where his arms went] Vyvyan?! [Sees Vyvyan by the pot]
CROW: Vyvyan's really got to cut down.
There you are, Vyvyan. You think I could have a word with you?
Vyvyan: No.
TOM: Impolite equals funny.
Rick: Just a little piece of information, really. Why did you throw the toilet out the window?
ANDREW: Everything seems to go out of the window! The pipe went out of the window, the clothes went out of the window! I'm pretty sure that the script went out of the window...
Vyvyan: To lower the rent.
Rick: Oh, yes, of course. How stupid of me.
MIKE: (Rick) I actually asked to be in this show, how stupid of me.
Just one other thing. What are you talking about?
CROW: He's as confused as us, at least that's good to know...
Vyvyan: Well, now we can go to the Rent Tribunal. You don't have to pay as much for a house with an outside lavie.
TOM: Ah, the British, always thinking of a way to make a word shorter. Aren't they short enough, you stupid people??
Rick: Really? Well, I don't believe you! I think you did it on purpose because you know I have a runny bottom!
MIKE: Rick is a man who is not afraid to express his problems with diarrhoea.
Vyvyan: Look, is Neil going to make the supper or not?
Rick: Well, I think you'd better ask him that, haven't you? I'm a bit more interested in my bottom at the moment!
ANDREW: Speaking of bottom, the ratings for this show-
CROW: Okay, guys, I'm making a rule. No more ratings jokes today, okay?
ANDREW: Okay...geez...
Vyvyan: [goes to the staircase] Neil, let's not beat around the bush.
TOM: You've been doing enough beating your bush today, mister!
Are you going to make supper, or am I going to kick your teeth in?!
[Mike is carrying a large bag, with feet coming out of the top.
CROW: Ah, he has a foot bag!
Neil is following him downstairs]
Neil: Where are you going with that sack, Mike?
ANDREW: Isn't that a little personal? I mean, a guy's sac is his own business!
Mike: Nowhere.
Neil: Is that a bag of dirty washing?
MIKE: That'd make a change, a British person actually *cleaning* his washing.
Mike: No.
Neil: I thought we were supposed to take everyone's washing when we go to the laundrette!
TOM: Laundrette, the femme version of the laundry.
What about the People's Charter we drew up?
CROW: (John Cleese) We are the Judean People's Charter!
[Opens a small book] Right, laundry.
ANDREW: (Neil) Left, muffins.
[Reads aloud] None of the guys, right, no matter what, like,
MIKE: Ah, he's speaking in stereotype language.
not even if they've been eaten by wild dogs...
CROW: How come it's always wild dogs? Why not wild rhinos, or wild amoebae?
Vyvyan: Hey, that's my clause!
ANDREW: (Vyvyan) Leggo of my clause, you perv!
Neil: ...shall go to the laundrette without first collecting all the other guys dirty gear.
TOM: Perhaps the writers should have realised that this dialogue was neither contributing nor continuing with the plot.
MIKE: Speaking of the plot...where did it go?
ANDREW: There's a plot?
Mike: Yeah? Clause 83.
CROW: Ah, the Santa Clause!
MIKE: Crow, you know how I feel about riffs that reference Tim Allen!
CROW: Oh, sorry Mike...
Neil: [reads on] Except for Mike. Oh. [closes book] Right. Sorry.
ANDREW: (Neil) Once again, I failed to realise the seemingly obvious and completely pointless trap you were setting me. D'oh.
Mike: That's all right.
TOM: (Sings) It's okay, you win, I'm in love with you...
Anyway, I'm not going to the laundrette.
MIKE: So that whole conversation wasn't necessary??? ARRRGGGH!!!
I'm going to the cellar. I've got a stiff.
ANDREW: (Mike) I used too much starch.
Know what I mean? [starts off for the cellar]
CROW: The whimsical masturbation scene!
TOM: Yay!
Rick: [pause, uncomfortable with the double entendre]
MIKE: That's the only French word that the writers know...
Oh, well, that's fair enough, I suppose. [waits until Mike is gone] He gets worse by the minute!
TOM: As does the script.
Neil: Well, at least he's not doing the washing.
ANDREW: Well, the sheets'll be whiter than white, if you know what I mean...
Vyvyan: All right, Neil. I'm going to give you three seconds to make supper, starting now!
CROW: Ah, it's an episode of "Ready, Steady, Cook!".
[Neil runs into the kitchen, grabbing pots and cooking utensils] One! Two!
TOM: He forgot to say "Elephant".
Neil: What do you fancy, Vyv?
Vyvyan: Three!
MIKE: (Neil) Three what?
Where's my supper?! [looks in a pot]
Neil: Well, it's not quite finished, actually.
ANDREW: (Neil) It's still in it's non-existant state...you'll have to wait a few minutes.
[Vyvyan breaks a plate over Neil's head. Neil falls, sprawling on the floor.]
TOM: Ah, brain haemorrhages are just so rib-breakingly amusing...
Rick: Oh, that's right, Neil, yeah!
CROW: (Rick) That's right, uh-huh, oh yeah!
Lounge around! Have a good time, while we starve to death! Beatnik!
MIKE: But Nick didn't do anything!
Vyvyan: And you've broken my favorite plate!
TOM: Wait, didn't they only just move into this house? Then how can he have chosen a favorite plate?
Rick: Well, I suppose we'll just have to cook our own supper.
[Lights a match to ignite the stove, only the stove explodes.]
[Two men with stubbly beards
CROW: So, just stubble...not beards.
and rags for clothes are lying on a raft in the middle of the ocean.
MIKE: In a desperate attempt to save the plot, the writers completely change it.
At the sound of the explosion, one jumps to a sitting position.]
TOM: (Man) Fluffer-nutter!
Man #1: What was that?!
Man #2: What?
Man #1: [pauses, laughs, lies down] Nothing.
ANDREW: This is exactly what someone said after seeing the first episode of the Young Ones.
My mind's beginning to play tricks on me. I thought we were lying on a raft just now.
CROW: (Man #1) Then I thought we were starring on an unsuccesful TV show, man am I out of it!
Man #2: You should take it easy, you know. You must be working too hard.
MIKE: (Man #2) Yeah, you've been taking tramping too seriously!
[The ocean disappears,
TOM: England had that hose-pipe ban on for a good reason, it seems.
and the two men are lying on a mattress in a dingy room, lit by a single light bulb.]
ANDREW: Buckingham Palace really lost it's appeal...
Bloody hot, isn't it?
Man #1: It is.
MIKE: (Man #2) Oh, is it?
Man #2: I should get a lower wattage bulb.
CROW: Hey, any of you guys know who invented the Watt?
ANDREW: Watt.
CROW: I said, any of you guys know who invented the Watt?
ANDREW: Crow, stop it.
CROW: Okay...
Man #1: [sits up quickly] Help!
MIKE: (Man #1) We need ratings, and lots of them!
We're sinking! We're sinking!
TOM: He's talking about their popularity...
Man #2: Relax. We're not sinking, we're not sinking.
ANDREW: (Man #2) Our ratings have always been this low!
I'll get some fresh air in here.
MIKE: Oh yeah, that fixes hallucinations.
[Opens a door to show them floating on the ocean. He breathes deeply.]
TOM: Oh, I get it, it's Robert Maxwell's house.
Ah, that's better. [Closes the door, pauses.] Uh...
CROW: (Man #2) Did you leave the sprinkler on outside?
Man #1: What's the matter?
Man #2: Nothing! Nothing. [pause] Can you swim at all?
Man #1: What?
ANDREW: The British are masters at saying "What? Huh?".
Man #2: I was just wondering.
Man #1: Wondering?
TOM: So, basically this guy's lines consist of taking the last word that the other guy said and converting it in the form of a question.
Man #2: Yes, I was wondering if you might swim to the chemist and get me something for my hallucinations.
CROW: Hey, Brits don't hallucinate, they're too stuck up!
Man #1: Have you had one too?!
MIKE: (Man #1) Man, I feel so left out!
Man #2: Either that, or the whole town is flooded. [Sits down]
Man #1: You're right.
TOM: (Man #1) We should get a place together.
We've been working too hard. I haven't had a holiday for over a year now.
CROW: I wonder how much Tramping pays.
Man #2: What about this?!
Man #1: What? This?! A holiday?! Two weeks in a cellar under a light bulb?
ANDREW: Oh, they're having a lovers tiff! Isn't it sweet...
Man #2: It was all I could get.
Man #1: All you could get?! Do me a favor.
MIKE: (Man #1) Bite me.
Man #2: What?
Man #1: [begging]
TOM: (Man #1) Give me a Scooby-Snack!
Check and see if that really was an hallucination out there!
[Man #2 opens the door, and Mike walks in with the bag.]
CROW: (Mike) Lucky I brought my Hallucinogen bag with me...
Man #2: How did you get here?
Mike: You'll have to ask my parents. They wouldn't tell me.
ANDREW: Oh, can we refrain from the childish humor and simply get on with the plot, please???
Would you mind looking after my buddy?
[Hands Man #2 the bag, looks at the camera.]
MIKE: (Mike) You people still there???
All right, so it was a bad joke. But then, death isn't funny.
TOM: Looks like the writers just gave in at that point...
[Rick, Neil, and Vyvyan are sitting in the living room. Rick and Neil have empty plates in front of them,
CROW: Oh no, this is turning into a scene from Hook!!!
MIKE: Nooo!!!!
while Vyvyan is still trying to eat.]
ANDREW: But his body is devoid of saliva-enzymes, and it's a literal impossibility.
Vyvyan: This is revolting!
Rick: It's amazing what you can come up with with just flour and water.
Vyvyan: Yeah. Glue.
TOM: So, bread is simply glue that's been allowed to rise? Man, people'll go crazy when they hear what they've been eating...
[Holds his fork, the plate stuck to it. He drops the fork/plate.]
MIKE: Random acts of violence to a fork/plate!
[All three boys stare at the telly,
CROW: You know, surveys show that nine out of ten British people...aren't anything like these guys.
just a little white dot on the screen and a low pitched hum.]
ANDREW: (Rick) I'm so glad we got the new dot channel.
Rick: What is that little white dot?
TOM: The emergency broadcast dot.
Neil: It's a little white dot.
Rick: Oh, very clever.
CROW: So, not an ounce of sarcasm or emotion in his voice?
Neil: It must be a really old telly.
Rick: What, hippie?
MIKE: This is sort of an English version of South Park, isn't it?
ANDREW: Huh?
MIKE: Four main characters, insulting, boring, repetive, confusing.
ANDREW: Oh yeah...only this came first, so basically South Park is inferior.
Neil: Look, there's a sign in that little white dot.
CROW: (Neil) It says "Washington, 5 miles".
It means something really heavy.
ANDREW: Approximately 500 kilograms.
It means, there's no more telly. Time to go to bed.
MIKE: (Tor Johnson) Time for go to bed!
[stands] I'm going upstairs now to finish painting my astrological star chart, all right? [leaves]
Rick: [pause, calls to Neil] Do you really think that anyone has ever been the slightest bit interested in anything you say or do ever, Neil?!
TOM: After the bedroom incident, things have just never been the same between them...*sigh*...
MIKE: The....bedroom incident?
TOM: Yeah, you know, when it was on fire?
MIKE: Oh, right!
[sighs] God, fascist.
ANDREW: (God) No, I'm not!
[stands] Are you going to bed, Vyvyan?
CROW: Woah! That's a proposal if I've ever heard one!
Vyvyan: No. I'm going to watch the dot for a bit longer.
MIKE: (Vyvyan) It pushes my buttons, huh-huh.
Rick: Wish we had a video.
TOM: (Rick) Because then we could...watch the video....
Then I could Tape it and watch it in the morning. Oh, well. Nighty night.
[leaves]
TV Announcer: And don't forget to unplug your set.
ANDREW: (Announcer) And stop watching The Young Ones.
Vyvyan: Why?
TV Announcer: Because it'll blow up, you silly boy.
CROW: Say, he's the kinky TV Announcer!
Vyvyan: Great! [watches anxiously for a minute] It's never going to blow up. [Grabs an axe]
MIKE: (Vyvyan) Heeeere's Vyvy!
I think I'll play "Murder in the Dark". [Turns off the light, crashes into the kitchen table]
TOM: So, their TV's in the kitchen? Man, this house is more complicated than the plot...
CROW: Plot? What plot?
[Mike hits a golf ball in the upstairs hallway.
ANDREW: (Mike) Wow, it's lucky that golf ball was there, otherwise we'd have to struggle for a joke for a few minutes.
It flies out the window and into the toilet, just between Neil's legs.]
MIKE: What, is there windows everywhere? Why does everything fly through a window???
Mike: I could have made a fortune if I'd turned pro,
CROW: (Mike) But unfortunately I'm violently anti-golf.
but to me, it's the sport that matters. [Calls to Neil] Can you throw my ball back, OK?
Neil: Oh, OK.
TOM: (Neil) You might wanna wipe the poop off it.
[Rick runs in, catches the thrown object. It lands with a disgusting "splat".]
ANDREW: Is it possible to make a "splat" sound and have it not be disgusting?
Rick: How's that? [Sees it's not the ball that has been thrown,
MIKE: But don't worry, we're not gonna tell the audience anything, they don't deserve it.
wipes his hands, goes in the bathroom. He comes out angrily.]
TOM: Wait, wasn't Neil just in the bathroom?
CROW: No, that was the living room. The toilet's in the living room, the TV's in the kitchen, the bed's in the bathroom, and the food's in the bedroom.
Who's been using my toothpaste?!
TOM: (Bear) And who's been sleeping in *my* bed?
Mike: Vyvyan was typing out an essay. He used it as Tippex.
ANDREW: So, they only moved in a few hours ago and they've already designated each belonging to each of them, and then managed to get on with their regular lives? Man, they're fast.
Rick: Bastard! [Goes back in the bathroom, returns]
MIKE: (Rick) So, is that the end of the scene?..oh, sh*t!
What're you doing standing outside my bedroom then, Mike?!
Mike: There's only the floor to sit on, Rick.
CROW: You know, something tells me this guy is gonna eventually be the minority character as the series goes by.
Rick: Oh, ha ha, very funny.
MIKE: Wow, the writers have turned on each other...
I suppose you think it's very clever to laugh with three million people on the dole!
TOM: (Mike) Um, I didn't laugh, you did.
Mike: Yeah.
Rick: Well, could you just get out of the way, please? I want to get into my bedroom.
CROW: I thought I told you that you'd done enough beating the bush for today, mister!
Mike: Well, you're not exactly dressed for it.
Rick: What?
Mike: Well, all right. All right. I won't stand on convention, he never stood on me.
ANDREW: (Mike) Unless you count that one time when he sorta stuck his boot in my face, but I'm sure that was purely accidental.
That'll be a fiver. For the room, not the game.
MIKE: For England, James>
TOM: Bite me, Seen Been.
Rick: Five pounds to get in my own bedroom?! Hah! What have you done, turned it into a roller disco?
Mike: Uncanny!
CROW: Well, can 'e?
ANDREW: Crow, never do that again.
[Rick opens the door to find several people dancing around on roller skates as music blares and colored lights flash.]
MIKE: Waah! Movie Sign!!!
CROW: Relax, Mike, it's just the sitcom...not real...
Rick: Look, would you all mind just going, please?! I hate to be a party pooper, but I'd like to get undressed.
TOM: He shouldn't have become a stripper if he was gonna be so self-conciuos about it.
[One of the Dancers is a large black man. He pokes Rick in the chest.]
ANDREW: (Dancer) Tag, you're it, no tag backs.
TOM: Oh, we gotta go, guys.
MIKE: Alright...(Mike picks Servo up, they all stand up and begin to walk out)
Dancer: Look, man. Either strut your stuff, or bug off!
CROW: This show makes me feel like barfing, wanna barf the night away.
Rick: All right! This is it! Everybody listen to me!
MIKE: Ah, he's gonna do one of his world-famous morale boosting speeches for the boys in the Crimean War.
[A bouncer,
TOM: For a bouncer, he isn't very bouncy-looking.
dressed in a tuxedo, comes over, picks Rick up with one hand, and carries him out.]
ANDREW: The bouncer speaks for us all!
(Mike, Andrew, and the 'bots exit the Theater)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Gizmonics doors close, Cambot pans out to reveal that the main bridge is empty except for the desk. Mike leans over from the right hand side and looks at Cambot)
MIKE: Caption?
(At the bottom of the screen, a caption suddenly appears that reads "MIKE GOES ONTO THE BRIDGE")
MIKE: Thankyou.
(Crow walks onto the bridge from the left, carrying a small box)
MIKE: Oh, hi Crow! What's in the box?
CROW: Box? What box? I don't see any box! What's this sudden obsession with boxes, Mike?
MIKE: Um, I was just referring to the box you've got in your hand, Crow.
CROW: (Looks down at the box) Oh, this? This is nothing, pay no heed to it.
MIKE: Can I see?
CROW: No.
MIKE: ....why not?
CROW: Because.
MIKE: Look, Crow, just give me the box!
CROW: No way, you femme!
(Mike grabs the box, Crow struggles to keep a hold of it, but eventually Mike snatches it out of Crow's claws. Mike opens the box)
MIKE: There's nothing in here!
CROW: Hmm?
MIKE: The box! There's nothing in the box! You bring my hopes all the way up like that, make me expect something vastly exciting and/or interesting, and then it turns out to be totally empty?
CROW: Yup. That's pretty much it. It's kinda like today's sitcom, don't you think?
MIKE: Well, that was a long way to go to make a lame point like that!
CROW: Hey, come on! You were-
(Servo hovers up from under the desk holding a box)
TOM: Hi guys.
MIKE: (Sees the box) Oh, no, not again, you're not gonna get me twice!
TOM: Huh?
MIKE: I don't care how you think your stupid empty box resembles today's experiment, I don't care how intelligent or subtle it is, I don't even care how funny it is, I'm not having any part in this dumb joke any longer!
(Mike storms out)
TOM: What's eating him?
CROW: Beats me....hey, speaking of eating, didya get the cake?
TOM: Sure did! (Opens the box, a large, lavishly decorated cake is inside. It looks delicious)
CROW: Oooh! Lemme have a slice!
TOM: Think we should give some to Mike?
CROW: Hey, you saw how he reacted to it, forget him!
TOM: Oookay!
(Movie Sign)
CROW: Aww, crap, we got Sitcom Sign!!!
(Servo and Crow run into the Theater)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Andrew and Mike are already in the Theater, Crow and Servo enter)
CROW: Hi Mike. Not a cake man, huh?
MIKE: What?
CROW: Nothing.
Rick: Watch it!
ANDREW: (Rick) You'll get bouncer all over me!
Bouncer: [tips Rick over, drops him repeatedly on his head]
TOM: Proving once again that concussion isn't possible on TV.
Sorry, Guv'nor. Tit for tat,
MIKE: Woah! Did he just say that?
CROW: Say what?
MIKE: Um...nothing, I must be imagining things.
I love London Town. It was at Violet's funeral.
CROW: Two completely non-related sentences, you asked for them, we brought them to you!
But listen, Guv'nor. This little pervert was bothering a gentleman and the young ladies while they were shaking their booties to the ground.
ANDREW: "Shaking their booties", it isn't really an English phrase, is it?
Know what I mean?
Mike: Gentle as you can, Sully.
TOM: (Bouncer) Okay, Mculder!
I don't want the others getting upset.
Rick: Mike, you bastard!
CROW: He's talking to you, Mike.
MIKE: Heyyy!
Neil: [coming upstairs, calls down] ...and next time, throw that paper out as well, Vvvyan!
MIKE: (Neil) But keep the sports section!
Rick: Neil, help!
Neil: No, I can't, Rick. Because now is the time for me to finish painting my astrological chart. [goes in his room]
ANDREW: I'm glad the whole room-incident has been sorted out, now.
Mike: That'll do.
TOM: (Rick) Could you hit me one more time, I can't remember my father...
[the Bouncer stops dropping Rick, sets him on the floor]
Sorry, Rick. But if I was to make any exceptions,
CROW: If he did that, he'd be exceptional.
who would respect me then? Would you?
Rick: Yes, well, I'm going to call the pigs, actually.
MIKE: (Rick) And they're gonna roll in the mud at you!
Let's see what the pigs have to say!
TOM: Oink oink, most likely.
Mike: Oh, wise up, Rick. Look, this world is like a burnt steak.
ANDREW: So basically, the writers threw a whole load of completely pointless and barely amusing jokes together, smacked in some hardly recognisable plot, and hoped for the best.
Small, tough, and the chips are always stacked against you.
MIKE: That comparison would also work for a chicken, if you think about it.
TOM: But I doubt you'd want to compare the world to poultry, would you Mike?
Rick: You're always so pleased with yourself, aren't you, Mike?!
CROW: Getting this Mike?
Always think you're so bloody clever!: Yeah, Mike! (Pokes Mike with his beak)
MIKE: Ow!
Mike: Yeah. I've arranged for you to share Neil's bedroom.
TOM: So, is it me, or has time suddenly lost all meaning in this show?
Rick: What?! I'm not sharing a bedroom with that rubber johnny!
ANDREW: His name's Neil, actually.
[Opens Neil's door and bumps the ladder.
MIKE: Ladder? Perhaps you should've told us there was a ladder before-
TOM: Don't even bother, Mike.
Neil falls off the ladder,
ANDREW: (Norman Wisdom) Mr. Grimsdale!
where he was painting the chart on the wall.]
CROW: Something tells me the chart is gonna have some significance later on.
All right, Neil, shut up! Before you say anything, I've just tossed
ALL: Ewww!
a coin
ALL: Ohhh...
for who gets the bed, and you lost!
[Takes off his pants]
ALL: Ewww!
It's completely fair,
TOM: Really? Doesn't look fair from where I'm sitting, mister!
and if you don't believe me, ask Mike, so shut up!
Neil: Oh, uh, OK, Rick.
MIKE: Careful, the writers almost over-used their comma budget.
Rick: What?
Neil: What?
Rick: What'd you just say?
Neil: What?
CROW: (Mitchell) Buzz off kid!!!
Rick: You just called me a bastard, didn't you?! You better not, Neil!
[Throws off his jacket]
ANDREW: (Hums "The Stripper")
Cause let me tell you. Me, Mike, and Vyvyan
MIKE: (Rick) And that one other guy...
are getting pretty sick of you.
[Sits on Neil's bed which has a lump under the sheets]
TOM: Didn't we already do the turd joke?
Why are the sheets all sticky?!
CROW: Maybe someone spilled the plot...that might explain the lack of it.
Neil: Oh, it's probably just the red paint.
[Rick pulls back the sheets to reveal a deer head.
ANDREW: Somehow I doubt this will ever be as popular as The Godfather.
Rick screams. Mike comes in.]
Mike: OK, it may seem a little heavy-handed for one pound 50,
MIKE: What's he talking about?
TOM: He's talking? All I can hear is "blah-blah-blah" and occasionally this extremely canned laughter...
but when I lend somebody money, I expect to get it back. You know what I mean?
Vyvyan: [runs in] Mike, I've struck oil! We're going to be rich! I found oil in the cellar!
MIKE: -The Hell?
CROW: So, no plot for twenty minutes, then all of a sudden all Hell breaks loose. Thankyou, England!
Rick: Vyvyan, for heaven's sake...
Mike: Easy, easy, easy.
ANDREW: Difficult.
Spill the beans, and I don't mean in the tub.
TOM: Ah, the tub for which we had no knowledge of?
Vyvyan: It's very simple. I was playing "Murder in the Dark" in the cellar,
MIKE: Um, wasn't he doing it in the kitchen?
CROW: No, that was the cellar. The TV is in the cellar, and the-
MIKE: Okay, Crow, I get it.
and I was getting really bored. So I thought, I know, I'll crack the floor with my head.
TOM: Hey, that sounds like a good idea! It'll relieve the tension!
(Servo cracks his globe-like head on the floor, he sits back on his seat. His dome head has a split down the middle)
TOM: Duh huh, fun!
And when I did, this huge spill of oil came out!
ANDREW: (Vyvyan) Or maybe it was blood. It's kinda hard to tell.
Mike: Now, listen, this could be very big, I mean family-size.
CROW: Is this meant to be "smooth" talking? I've never really understood "smooth" talking.
Tonight, we sleep on it.
Vyvyan: What, all four on one spurt?
Mike: Son of a gun, we're going to be rich!
MIKE: (Vyvyan) Hey, I asked you a question!
House meeting, tomorrow morning, nine o'clock,
TOM: (Vyvyan) AM or PM?
in the Broom cupboard. And, Neil?
CROW: (Mike) Lick me.
I want that one pound 50 by Wednesday, or another moose dies.
ANDREW: Wait, didn't you kill a deer?
[Vyvyan and Mike leave. The screen tumbles
MIKE: That's what happens when you put Gary in charge of screen fixture...
and fades out.]
[SCENE: The screen is filled with a message
CROW: "Paul is a dead man, miss him, miss him"!
like in silent movies. It reads "Tomorrow Morning, 9 O'Clock, in the Broom Cupboard. An Everyday Story of Life Below Stairs."
ANDREW: All that festering mucus that's been hanging under the stairs has mutated and become alive!
A Sponge, Broom, and Spray Can are lying on a shelf.]
Sponge: Ah, dear me, ma'am.
CROW: Wow, utensils talk just like normal English people.
Our whole job is to serve the young gentlemen and look out for them the best we can.
MIKE: Which is kinda hard when you don't actually have eyes.
But, I'm sure young master Neil do treat us very rough sometimes.
Broom: And so he should, young Lucy. For we love it.
TOM: Uh-oh, we're getting into an awkward area here...
The complete negation of our personality, the mind-numbing servility, the 18-hour work day.
ANDREW: (Broom) And don't forget the fact that this scene is totally pointless.
And we expect no reward but a staircase over our heads.
CROW: What heads?
Spray Can: Oh, dear, yes, Lucy. We love it. The personal abuse is our lot, and the further back you go, the better it gets.
MIKE: Maybe we should just end the scene right now before it gets really weird...
[Footsteps sound]
Broom: Oh, no! The young lads
TOM: No, no, that's young "ones"!
are coming down to beat us. Everyone on your best behavior, or you'll have me to answer to.
ANDREW: Yikes, this scene is oozing with undertones.
[Rick and Neil come in the small Broom cupboard. Rick sighs, checks his watch]
MIKE: (Rick) Ah, good, it's still there.
Rick: Does seem strange that Mike should call a house meeting in here. I mean, I've never been in here before.
CROW: You know what puzzles me? It's called a broom cupboard, but it's not specifically used for brooms. Now, what's that all about?
Neil: that's because this is where we keep the cleaning stuff, Rick.
Rick: No, it's not, Neil! It's because we only moved in here yesterday.
TOM: And yet, they've all acted like they've been living here for the past eight years...
Neil: Actually, I'm surprised that anyone except me knows this place even exists.
MIKE: Yeah, the others don't believe in broom cupboards, it's against their religion.
Cause to you lot, I have as much importance as a, as a, uh....
ANDREW: Not very important thing.
Rick: Hippie.
CROW: (Sings) I got the hippie-hippie-shakes!
Neil: ...hippie. It happens to be me that does all the cleaning around here.
MIKE: Not that you've had much chance to make a mess, seeing as you only moved in yesterday.
Rick: Moan moan moan. Boring.
TOM: (Rick) The script.
Just because you do a little bit of housework.
Neil: What? A little bit?! All right.
ANDREW: Wow, he gave in real easy...
[knocks on the wall]
MIKE: Careful, you'll make the set fall over.
House meeting, OK?
Rick: This is a house meeting, Neil.
CROW: Oh, I didn't quite catch that, is there a house meeting going on somewhere?
Neil: That's what I'm saying. Is it? Well, where's Mike and Vyvyan then?
Rick: They're late. We're only here on time because you kept me up all night, pacing around up and down and ringing bells.
TOM: (Neil) Hey, check me, I'm givin' out wings!
Neil: Listen, man. Sleep gives you cancer. Everyone knows that.
ANDREW: (Neil) 'cept all the sane people, of course...
Rick: Listen, Neil. Do you know the difference between you and some number two's?! [pause] Nothing!
MIKE: Owch...didn't see that one coming...
[Neil sniffs
TOM: (Neil) Hey, you're right!
and tears well up in his eyes]
CROW: Well, that'll happen. Heh, get it? "Well"....
Stop crying, Neil.
Neil: I'm not crying, Rick.
ANDREW: (Neil) It's my built-in sprinkler system. What do you think?
I got some dust in my sinuses.
Rick: Well, that'll teach you to stop skiving on the cleaning then, won't it?
TOM: "Skiving", it's how Bela Lugosi pronounces "Sky-wing"!
Neil: Oh, no.
Rick: What?
Neil: I'm going to sneeze, Rick.
Rick: Neil, no!
MIKE: So, one of the major plot-points involves sneezing? Wow, how long did it take them to come up with that?
Neil: I am. I am. I always do.
CROW: (Neil) Every episode, I always sneeze! Do the writers get some sick pleasure out of it?
Rick: No!!
[Neil sneezes, and the door blows off in a big messy explosion.
TOM: Well, that....didn't make any sense.
Rick and Neil stagger out.]
Neil: Sorry about that. It always happens.
ANDREW: (Neil) And on our first date, too!
[Vyvyan comes downstairs, wearing a crash helmet and carrying a cricket bat.]
MIKE: I hardly think cricket is really dangerous enough to require the use of a crash-helmet...the worst that could happen is a bird could fall on your head...
Vyvyan: Here they are, El Presidente!
CROW: (Vyvyan) Shall I hit them on El Head with El Bat?
[Pushes Rick and Neil into the living room, throws them down.]
Starting an insurgence!
TOM: (Rick) But it was an outsurgence! Honest!
I'll teach you to try and assassinate the President!
ANDREW: (Rick) But we already know how...
[Mike comes in, wearing a black leather trenchcoat and hat, chewing on a big cigar.
CROW: A British Humphrey Bogart?
MIKE: No, just a deranged British character gone wrong.
Vyvyan salutes.]
El Presidente!
TOM: (Vyvyan) Oh, no, wait, I mean...El Salute!
Rick: What the ruddy heck is going on?
Vyvyan: Shut your face, traitor! [Hits Rick in the crotch with the bat]
CROW: Now, that just isn't cricket...oh, wait, maybe it is.
Rick: Hah! Missed both my legs! [grimaces]
ANDREW: When a Brit grimaces, the whole world groans with him.
Vyvyan: Shut up! [Hits Rick in the head]
Neil: [picks a piece of gum off the floor] Who's been sticking gum on the floor?
MIKE: What a great punch-line! Only the shame-less British mind could have come up with such fresh, off-the-cuff humor.
[puts it in his mouth]
Mike: Silence.
TOM: Is golden.
Vyvyan: Silence!
TOM: Is golden.
Mike: Gentlemen,
ANDREW: (Mike) Lick me.
good morning.
Vyvyan: Good morning.
ALL: Good morning.
Mike: I'm glad you could all make it, cause if you hadn't, you wouldn't be here.
CROW: (Mike) And then you'd miss out on my strip show!
Vyvyan: Wouldn't be here.
Mike: Now, what were you two doing in the Broom cupboard?
TOM: Well, that's a little private...
Vyvyan: Good question.
Neil: Uh...oh, yeah, we were having a house meeting, yeah.
MIKE: (Neil) And not sex, definetly not sex!
Mike: Impossible.
Vyvyan: Impossible! [Hits Neil with the bat]
ANDREW: (Michael Palin) Thwow him to the fwoor! Tweat him wuffly!
Mike: Because Colonel Vyvyan and myself held a house meeting a quarter of an hour ago upstairs.
CROW: They had the meeting a quarter of an hour ago and they already have ranks?
And, I'm afraid to say, under the new regulations,
TOM: (Mike) Not that there were any old ones.
non-attendance at house meetings is punishable by death.
MIKE: (Mike) Or cup-cakes.
Vyvyan: Ha ha ha. Death.
Mike: I would like to overlook this,
ANDREW: (Mike) But I don't want to.
but unfortunately, you two seem reponsible for certain other criminal activity.
Vyvyan: Ha ha!
CROW: The Brit contributes.
TOM: They're all Brits!
CROW: Well, he has a more British air about him...I mean, his teeth are in worse shape than the others'...
Mike: Namely, loitering with intent...
MIKE: (Rick) Loitering in a tent? I never did!
Vyvyan: Good one.
Mike: ...conspiring in the Broom cupboard...
Vyvyan: Brilliant.
Mike: ...and damaging police equipment. [Vyvyan shows Neil the chip in his cricket bat]
ANDREW: Hey, a chip off the old block.
TOM: Never do that again, Andrew.
However, I, El Presidente...
Vyvyan: [salutes] Viva El Presidente!
MIKE: (Mike) Mental note, never say "El Presidente" again.
Mike: ...I am prepared to give free amnesty
CROW: (Neil) What if we already have amnesty? Do we just throw it in the junk-drawer with the rest of it?
if you behave like good citizens and dig up all the oil.
Rick: You fascist junta! [Vyvyan smacks him again]
Mike: Look, you do want to be incredibly rich, don't you?
TOM: They should've thought of that before they decided to make this show.
Neil: Uh....
Rick: Yes! But why can't you go down to the cellar and dig as well?
ANDREW: (Mike) Because I'll get all dirty, and stuff!
Mike: Oh, that is fab, Rick! That is fab!
MIKE: (Mike) Sweety, darling.
Vyvyan: Fab!
Mike: So when I shuffle off to see the Saudis,
CROW: You *never* shuffle to see the Saudis, you'll look like a penguin to them.
what do I say? Hello, King Fahd. I've got some oil for you.
TOM: Maybe it's just a lake of liquorice under the house...did they ever consider that?
In fact, I've got a sample of it all over the front of my shirt!
CROW: You *never* wear a shirt when you go see the Saudis! It's too hot in the desert for a shirt...
You wouldn't happen to have a tin of Swarfega lying around the palace, your Royal Mightiness?!
ANDREW: Well, you could always just change shirts before you go.
Wise up, Rick. He'd chop my hands off.
MIKE: (Mike) And then how'm I going to hold my cigar?
Neil: Shhhh! Don't say that about the Arabs, Mike. You'll get us all into terrible trouble.
TOM: Uh, you've already insulted all humanity, why stop there?
[In a thought bubble above Neil's head, two Arabs are talking.]
ANDREW: (Neil) I wish I could get these voices out of my head....always commanding me...and forever I must obey...
Arab #1: Your magnificence! The British Foreign Secretary has arrived to apologize for recent press criticism, in which they alleged mandatory cruelty.
CROW: Well, this is current and topical. Arabs being on bad-terms with the British.
Arab #2: I will see him now.
ANDREW: (Arab #1) That's good, seeing as he's here *now*!
Arab #1: Which bit of him would you like to see first?
TOM: (Arab #2) The meaty part. It has a certain taste that just makes me quiver....aaaaahhh..
[The screen tumbles and fades out.]
MIKE: Looks like they over-oiled the screen again.
[SCENE: In the cellar, Neil is hard at work with a pick-axe, while Rick is just poking at the floor, hardly moving at all. Vyvyan is standing over them.]
CROW: (Vyvyan) I'm huge!
Vyvyan: Get on with it, Rick, you big poof!
ANDREW: I think that's the 34th group that they've insulted. Let's see...Arabs, gays, humanity...soon they'll be exceeding South Park limits!
[Kicks Rick aside and jumps in the hole, starting to pound with his head.
TOM: Hey, kids, here's a good way to get concussion! Now, why don't you try?
Vyvyan and Neil alternate for a bit, then Vyvyan's head gets stuck in the hole,
MIKE: That makes a change. A Brit with his head in the sand. Something you don't see every day.
and Neil drives down with the pick-axe.]
Neil: Oh, sorry, Vyv.
Vyvyan: [stands, with the axe stuck through his head]
CROW: (Vyvyan) Duh, sorry for what?
That's OK, Neil. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
TOM: Yeah, somebody was bound to get offended and try and kill him sooner or later.
[Collapses]
Rick: [leans over] You all right, Vyvyan? Vyvyan?! [pause] Great! This is it! I've been waiting two hours for this. It's a revolution!
ANDREW: Actually it's a concussion, there's a difference.
Neil: What do you mean, revolution?
MIKE: (Neil) I'm not very good with words.
Rick: Blood runs! Flags wave! Come on, everybody, throw down your tools and knock down the barricade.
CROW: So far, all that has happened in this show is a bunch of Brits have gotten together and messed with the audience's mind. Well, there's British humor for you.
Come on, run into the Winter Palace.
ANDREW: (Nerd) But I'm still on level 4!
Run into the Winter Palace and stand on tables, waving bits of paper at each other!
TOM: A typical British reaction, wave paper at the problem.
Yes! Yes!!
MIKE: (Rick) Oh, wait, no!
Hello, are you the Czar?!
[jumps up and down, excited]
CROW: (Rick) Woo-hoo! Wa-ha! I'm in a bad British actor in a lame sitcom that doesn't make any sense, I'm so happy!
Yes, I am, actually. [points a finger] Bam bam! Tough luck, fascist!!
ANDREW: But I wholly support your movement- agggh!
[Neil takes out a tissue and starts waving it around]
MIKE: (Neil) Oh, I'm all a flutter with excitment!
That's what happens to people who aren't working class! Yes, Neil. Listen. I've got everything ready.
TOM: Basically, even the writers don't know what's going on right now.
In ten minutes time there's going to be a massive rock and roll benefit in the drawing room.
MIKE: (Rick) I know because I read the script!
And right at the climax,
CROW: There's gonna be a lot of groaning noises coming from the bedroom.
MIKE: Oh, Crow!!
CROW: Yes, they'll probably sound a lot like that, Mike.
the oppressed working classes of this house, that's you, mainly...
Neil: Right.
Rick: ...will rise up and seize control of the state!
ANDREW: (Rick) Well, the house anyway...
Brilliant! Revolution!
Neil: Revolution.
TOM: Isn't that where the clothes go round in the dryer?
MIKE: No, Tom, that's a whole other thing.
Rick: Watch out, Norman Tebbit!
CROW: (Rick) I doubt this show'll be broadcast to anywhere other than Britain, so let's just speak a whole load of British stuff! Yeah!
[The screen tumbles and fades out. It fades back in to find Rick and Vyvyan sprawled in the basement.]
ANDREW: (Rick) Was it good for you?
Rick: God! I wish they wouldn't keep doing that!
Neil: It's the passage of time, Rick.
MIKE: (Neil) Just try not to think of it, it comes naturally after a while.
[Vyvyan stands up, throws up, falls down]
[SCENE: Mike comes into the living room, Buddy Holly's guitar flung over his shoulder, to find a band is already set up there.]
TOM: (Mike) Wait, I ordered pizza.
Mike: Who're you? I'm coming in here to watch Postman Pat.
Alexei: [the band leader]
CROW: Oh, God, not this guy...
MIKE: Did you know this guy improvises all his dialogue?
CROW: That'd explain the high annoyance levels I'm currently feeling.
This is the band Radical Posture,
ANDREW: (Alexei) It was gonna be called "Buffalo Shot" but we changed it.
and my name is Alexei Yuri Gagarin Siege of Stalingrad Glorious Five-Year Plan Sputnik Pravda Moscow Dynamo Back Four Balowski.
TOM: Let's see...who haven't they insulted yet...hmmm...
Me Dad was a bit of a Communist, know what I mean?
MIKE: A British Communist, now that makes....no sense whatsoever.
Mike: You know you're the spitting image of our landlord, Jerzei?
Alexei: Yeah, he's my uncle, actually, you know.
CROW: It's at this point at which test audiences all invited the show to "Bite them".
Mike: It's incredible! You're as alike as two Peas.
ANDREW: Which gives us a perfect oppurtunity to insult peas.
[Two Peas are lying on a plate]
TOM: (Pea) You liar! You're lying!
Pea #1: I hate that expression. It's so patronizing.
Pea #2: Yes, it's just the sort of vegetablist comment you'd expect from an oppressive dictator.
MIKE: Either that or the show just bites big time. Take your pick.
Rick: [walks in, sees the band but not Mike] Well, this is it! The massive rock and roll benefit for the oppressed workers of the hou...
CROW: I didn't think Houdini oppressed his workers that much.
[turns to see Mike] Hi, Mike! What're you doing here?
Mike: Never mind what I'm doing here, who are they?
Rick: [feigns surprise] Blimey!
ANDREW: Cue stereotypical-phrase alarm
Search me. Perhaps they're friends of somebody's, just popped in to play a, I don't know, play a rehearsal or something.
TOM: Oh, stop ad-libbing!
Would you like to go upstairs and lie down in your room?
MIKE: (Mike) Hey, I'm not that kind of man!
Mike: I think I'd better. [leaves]
Rick: Great! Hi, Sputnik! [Waves to Alexei] Or should I call you "comrade"?
CROW: (Alexei) No, call me Sputnik, seeing as it's my name.
You know the plan, don't you? Right, at the Peak of the gig, you incite the masses to rise, and we burn the Reichstag!
ANDREW: (Rick) If that doesn't work, we'll just cry and wet them!
Well, we burn Mike's room, anyway. And then, hey, presto, revolution!
Alexei: Stuff the revolution.
TOM: (Alexei) And smother it in gravy.
Where's my 200 quid?
Rick: [pulls a chain of tickets out of his pocket]
MIKE: (Rick) What you're about to see is an illusion...
Oh, I'd better go sell some tickets, haven't I?
[Neil comes in, sits down on the floor. Rick stands at the door, laughs, but no one is there.]
Tickets!!
CROW: (Rick) They're everywhere! Giant, mutated tickets! They're gonna kill us all!
Anybody! Probably stuck in a queue or something. [laughs, comes back] Uh, Neil, did you actually pay to get in?
Neil: No, I'm the oppressed workers of the house, Rick.
ANDREW: (Neil) Plus I got my hand stamped, so I can come back whenever I want.
Rick: Yes, but this is a benefit gig, you know. And the tickets are 200 pounds each.
Neil: 200 pounds?
TOM: That's 200 pounds of whale-meat, so it's even worse than he thinks.
That's nearly a term's grant, man!
Rick: Look, Neil, this benefit is for you! This is in aid of you, to help you! And you won't even pay for it. God, how self-centered can you get!
MIKE: Ask a gob-stopper.
Come on, 200 pounds.
Neil: I've only got 50p. [Hands Rick money]
Rick: [gives Neil a ticket] That'll have to do.
CROW: Mike, why don't we get a ticket service for the Theater? It'd make us a lot of money.
MIKE: Uh...I'll have to think about it.
Neil: Well, he'd better be good, this Norman Tebbit.
ANDREW: Norman Tebbit, live in concert, un-plugged. Wait, who's Norman Tebbit?
Alexei: [turns mike on]
MIKE: Hey! You did not! I'm not in the slightest bit aroused!
Whoooo, yeah! It's really great to be here at this benefit, actually. Whoooo, yeah! I'm feeling kinda whoooo, yeah!
TOM: Don't forget the appropriate facial grimaces.
[pauses, looks at Neil]
CROW: (Alexei) Who's this nob?
Whoooo, yeah!
ANDREW: Wow, he's a master of at the art of improvisation.
This is really funky, it's kinda like one big empty room, yeah!
MIKE: We wish.
TOM: Do we have to watch this, Mike?
MIKE: Afraid so.
We're going to do a number now that was a song in the charts recently about racial harmony.
CROW: (Alexei) Oh, no, sorry, it's about sex. Primal sex. Untamed-
MIKE: Enough, Crow.
About black and white people living together side by side
ANDREW: That'd make it pretty hard to move. Plus it's get pretty smelly after a while.
in perfect racial harmony together on pianos! It might be a bit stupid, like, you know what I mean, but I know pianos aren't gonna solve nothing, you know what I mean?
MIKE: No, but carry on with your little act, you annoying man.
There's one thing that unites us,
TOM: Oh, you mean sugar-free gum?
one thing that we all have in common, what is it? What is that one thing?
CROW: B.O.? Skin? The ability to control flatulence?
ANDREW: You don't have any of those, Crow.
CROW: No wonder I can't stop farting...
[The band starts playing, the lights dim,
TOM: Wait, that's too low, we can't see anything-...actually, that's fine, stay that way.
and Alexei starts singing and dancing wildly.]
It's not class or ideology,
Color, creed, or roots
ANDREW: This means you, Courtney Cox.
The only thing that unites us
Is Dr. Marten's boots
TOM: They're not Dr. Marten's, they're mine, and don't you forget it.
Dr. Marten's boots of the world
So that everybody can be free
MIKE: (Alexei) Oops, my song already lost all sense, well, that's a rap.
They're classless, matchless, ageless and waterproof
And retail for only 19 pounds and 99p
CROW: (Alexei) That scanned, right?
What should everyone be wearing?
TOM: (Alexei) Panty-hose!
Those boots with the air-flow soles
And your boots will have a meeting
MIKE: (Alexei) And discuss what the best way to take over the world is.
And your boots will take control
CROW: (Alexei) Of your mind, and force you to kick innocent old ladies!
Thanks to Dr. Marten everyone will have warm feet
ANDREW: You could say that about all boots.
Thanks to Dr. Marten they'll be dancing in the street
MIKE: He can't be a very good doctor if he spends his time making boots.
TOM: Yeah, he should be busy making a miracle cure for those annoying itches that people get in certain unspeakable areas!
No. Don't You Want Me.
MIKE: Well, you're right there.
OK, Boots. Do your stuff!
Dr. Marten's, Dr. Marten's, Dr. Marten's boots
Dr. Marten's, Dr. Marten's, Dr. Marten's boots
Dr. Marten's, Dr. Marten's, Dr. Marten's boots!
ANDREW: (Alexei) And, it just goes on like that...so...you get the picture!
Rick: Boring! Don't you even know who's the enemy? What happened to the revolution?! God, you'd think "Devil Woman" had never been written!
CROW: Yeah, and you'd think "Devil Doll" had never been filmed!
TOM: We gotta go guys.
MIKE: Okay. (Picks up Servo, they all get up and start to leave)
Mike: [walks in] What're you two doing here?
ANDREW: (Mike) Get into your tutus, you're on in five minutes!
You should be down in the cellar digging for oil! I hope you realize that all this loafing around has cost us one day of being incredibly rich!
TOM: (Rick) And I'm hungry! Waaahh!
Rick: [checks his watch] What?! Goodness, is that the time?
MIKE: No, that's your watch.
Vyvyan: [still trying to get up, in the cellar]
CROW: He just can't get it up, can he...
By the way, it was a complete lie about the oil.
ANDREW: So, basically this was just a British version of Robot Monster?
TOM: Looks that way...
CROW: Is this the end of the film, Mike?
MIKE: Oh, hush, Crow!
(Mike, Andrew, and the 'bots leave the Theater)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Gizmonics doors close, Cambot pans out to reveal Servo installing a turnstile into the doors. Mike is watching him work)
MIKE: So, Servo, when will you be finished putting in this new ticket system?
TOM: Oh, not long now. About five days, tops.
MIKE: I see....and how will this benefit us again?
TOM: It'll put money in our pocket Mike.
MIKE: Ah, good, because-
TOM: Well, actually, when I say "our" pocket, I mean "my" pocket. You see, only humans can use the turnstile. Robots needn't pay to go in, seeing as they're pretty much devoid of any human capabilites, and monetary units are a human factor and all.
MIKE: But-
TOM: So, it'll pretty much be you and Andrew paying to enter the Theater. Oh, and it's not going to be cheap either. You're gonna have to pay at least..ohhh...five hundred dollars per trip into the Theater.
MIKE: (Shocked) Five hundred-?
TOM: Yup! I mean, what better way to get money than to charge a huge amount, eh Nelson?
MIKE: That's it, Servo. I want you to stop installing this crazy system right now!
TOM: Well, sure, but it'll cost you.
MIKE: What? But it didn't cost anything to put it there in the first place!
TOM: Well, Mike, I was expecting to make some profit out of this! If you just employ my services for no good reason, I need some acknowledgment for my efforts.
MIKE: Right, that does it!
(Mike grabs the turnstile and yanks it out of it's place, and throws it out of the airlock)
TOM: I am shocked and appalled, Mike.
MIKE: Yeah, well, bite me.
TOM: Psah!
(Red communication light flashes)
MIKE: Oh, great, Rod and Emu are calling...(Pushes red button)
(Cut to Widowmaker. The Widowmaker has just left the time-rift, and has exited into the black void of space once more)
PEARL: Well, Nelson, I have to say that this universe is no less boring than the last one...same old white stars, same old boring planets...hey, wait a minute!
(The camera pans out to show Earth. It seems that Earth isn't any different than how they left it before, except for one minor detail. It's a cartoon)
PEARL: -The Hell?
MRS. HAT: It looks like we crossed over some kinda weird dimension barrier thingy when we left the time-rift!
PEARL: Yeah, I was gonna say that. It kinda looks like we're in a cartoon universe!
MRS. HAT: Hey, maybe we'll get to be interviewed by Space Ghost?
PEARL: Oh, can it, mutton head! It seems, Nelson, that we're gonna have to do some more investigating into this...but that'll have to wait till next week when you've left the time-rift and are ready to join us. Until next time, chunk-head! Push the button, Mrs. Hat!
MRS. HAT: ...all I wanted was a teeny skit with Zorak, is that too much to ask...
(Mrs. Hat reaches under the Widowmaker's dashboard)
P@H!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
BR>
I'd like to thank Joel Hodgson for creating MST3K, Mike Nelson for carrying on his tradition, Best Brains for being the one truly perfect band of people on the planet, and anyone who reads the whole episode through, as I know how annoying it is and I feel your pain.
BR>
--Locdog07