A section of granite neatly separated itself from the wall of Deep Thirteen. It slid upwards, revealing a darkened television screen with a control console underneath. Frank stared blankly. "You're having *us* watch movies now?" "No, I'm not having us watch movies now." Dr. Forrester rolled his eyes. "You've been working for me a long time now, Frank. I think it's only fair that you should meet the man in charge." "I thought *you* were the man in charge." The mad scientist merely laughed as he tapped a few buttons on the console. The screen came to life, and a shadowy figure could barely be seen. "Ah, Forrester." The voice was electronically muffled, yet it still struck Frank as somehow familiar. "I trust you've come up with something special for our little space rats this week?" "Oh, yes, sir." Forrester cackled. "Yes indeed." "Well, then, by all means proceed with the pain," the figure said with a chuckle, his green laboratory coat barely visible in the darkness. "Don't let me distract you." "I think you need to turn up the brightness," Frank observed, reaching out to touch the controls. "Frank!" Forrester smacked his assistant's hand. "Leave that alone!" ----- FFIRC MST: -In Character Xel+Filia- The original 'fic belongs to the Guy Under the Bridge, who gave his permission that we would be able to use it. Slayers is the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi and all the distributors of their work. Mystery Science Theater 3000 is property of Best Brains and copyright 2001. All other references/lyrics are property of the original artists. ----- "Hey, sirs," Joel Robinson said. "Time for the invention exchange?" "Well, of course it's..." Forrester's head jerked around to where his assistant was adjusting knobs on the control panel. "FRANK!" "Hey, I got it working!" The viewscreen image now fully lit, everyone immediately recognized the figure. "What in the...." "Hey!" Crow T. Robot popped up beside Joel. "It's Doctor Forrester!" "Very observant of you, my little space monkeys," the Forrester on the sceen quipped. "Why don't you explain it to them, Forrester?" "Of course, sir." He turned to face Joel. "This, my little Joel-chan, happens to be my invention for this week. As everyone knows, an evil organization needs to have a mysterious head who calls the shots from behind the scenes. But what self-respecting mad scientist would take orders from someone else? Well, now that problem is solved. I can be my own boss." A twisted smile came across his face. "What do you think, Sailor Joel?" "I think you've been watching 'Robot Monster,'" Joel replied. "Why have you not killed the hu-man?" Tom Servo intoned from below. "Anyhow, sirs, and sir, here's Tom Servo to explain this week's invention. Tom?" "Thank you, Joel. Our offering this week is not so much an invention as it is a new scientific theory. For years, geologists and geographers alike have been confounded by the motion of continental plates. What we've done is to advance a new hypothesis that we hope will explain this phenomenon. My colleague Crow will elucidate." "Huh? Oh yeah." Crow cleared his throat. "We have prepared a video simulation." His spindly arms swiveled a monitor into view. On the screen crouched a bulky, square-jawed man in a skin-tight blue suit. His immensely muscular arms stretched over his head, holding overhead a slab of rock that extended as far as could be seen. The thin antenna-like appendages on his forehead twittered as he pushed, grunting furiously. "Heave! HEAVE!" Crow looked up. "We call this discovery: Plate Tick-tonics." Forrester shrugged. "Well, then, Joel, your fanfic this week is the first-ever offering from that infamous critic known as the Guy Under the Bridge." He tipped a glance toward the viewscreen. "Shall I send him the fic, sir?" "By all means, Forrester," the screen image said. "Read it and weep, Joelerini-weenie." -- >In Character Xel+Filia Tom: Ooh, how informative. I bet he named his kid "Female Carbon-Based Entity". >"Remove the dragon." Joel: I want this Puff disposed of once and for all. Tom: The Bruce Lee sequel. >The order had just come into his mind, along with the will that > became his own; such was the nature of his being. Crow: It said that he would get his granduncle's spooky mansion-- if he could stay in it for a freak-filled night! Tom: Oh, and could you whip up a BLT with fries as well! Crow: Order up! >The Juu-oh's will was no different from his own when his master >commanded a thing done. Tom: They were of two minds when it came to scrubbing toilets though. Joel: Juu-Oh's, the breakfast food for Mazoku on the move! Tom: So you're brainwashed then, right, Xellos? Crow: Why no...I wouldn't say that...Kill the girl, kill the girl... >He need not even reply, his compliance was mandated by every strand >that composed his soul. Joel: So what does make up soul? Crow: the Wash tag says 30% cotton, 70% Rayon... Tom: Xellos always obeys his master. In case you, the reader, have not gleaned this point from the fic as of yet, I'll say it three more times for you. Crow: Under redundancy, see redundancy. >But he also had a mind of his own, and he was busy with Lina's >group at the moment. Joel: Lina's group needed a bitchin' bass, and Xellos wasn't about to give up the gig... Tom: Now, Lina... do you have any threes? Crow: Go fish... Do you have any eights? Tom: That is a secret. >So he delegated. Joel: Delegation! The goofy game for dopey Mazoku! Crow: Toe, I want you to take over my vital functions for a bit while my brain takes a nap. >"Yelstia," he uttered in summons, and the Mazoku appeared before >him the next instant. Joel: Man, this Friend of the Court gig is the greatest! Crow: Jesus! Don't DO that! Give me a little warning, flash of smoke, burst of light or something before you appear! Tom: Yeltsin? I thought he was out of office these days. Crow: No, it's Yeltsin's more drunk and less pretty sister.... >"Your Excellency Juushinkan," said a vaguely female form covered >with tattered grey robes and hair that resembled seaweed. Crow: Yelstia's been through the permanent press cycle a time too many... Joel: I called you while you were bathing again, didn't I. Tom: Looks like someone needs a herbal experience... >"What is your will?" she, or rather it, asked him in a spectral >voice. Tom: It's...Pat the Mazoku! Joel: It's a document that tells who I leave my worldly possessions to when I die.. but that isn't important right now. >"Remember that Gold Dragon you saw a while ago?" Crow: Well, forget it! Tom: No. I was too busy taking my bath to look at dragons. >"The one called 'Filia' by the humans, Your Excellency?" Crow: No, her brother Filibuster. Tom: No, the lucky one named Falcore. Joel: Gold dragon meat will really Filia up! >"The very one," he confirmed, sighing. "Kill her, would you please? Tom: While you're at it, could you be a love and make me some waffles? The good kind, not Eggos. Joel: I'm not very good at entertaining her...she keeps throwing shoes at me. Maybe you should serenade her yourself. Joel: Little does Yeltsia know that she is nowhere near powerful enought to take Filia out...That'll teach her to take my Corn Pops... MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! >And make sure you dispose of the body." Joel: Where the HELL am I going to find a Hefty bag THAT size?!? Tom: So shall we dump her in the thames? Crow: No, she looks like an eater... >He didn't bother mentioning the two beastmen, their deaths of >course would go without saying. Tom: Heck, they're so unremarkable that Aaron Copland wouldn't even bother writing a fanfare for them. Joel: Odd's on the author forgetting the name of the characters? Crow: One to one, I'd say... >"And do not play with her, just kill her immediately and return. Crow: Aww... but nobody ever lets me play any Mazoku games! Tom: Man, Filia just got a Dreamcast! >Understand?" he asked, suddenly letting impatience show in his >tone. Joel Just kill it. You hear me, I said kill it! KILL IT RIGHT NOW!!! UNDERSTAND!?! Tom: Oh, yes, understand perfectly. Joel: Where are you going? Tom: I'm coming with you! >"Perfectly, Your Excellency," she responded solemnly, and departed >into the astral realm. Crow: She and Nephrite had a nooner. Tom: About time you came back. We've been holding up the card game for you! >Yelstia was not his creation, but there just weren't any Mazoku who >wouldn't obey his every whim, Tom: Xelloss had to raise 'em stupid. Joel: Did I just see a double-negative? Crow: To be more exact, I counted three so far. >as he carried the will of the Greater Beast itself. Crow: Kathy Lee Gifford? Joel: Lot of wills being made in this fic. I bet the lawyers in the Slayerverse do good business. Tom: Greater Beast....I don't think I've heard it called that before... >After a short time Yelstia returned. "It is done as you willed, >Your Excellency. Tom: It might be nice to have shown that scene, but this fic is on a limited budget. Joel: I hid her behind a chain-link fence. No one will find her now! Crow: Yes, I used my hackmaster +12 to easily slay the dragon, her followers, and that nasty telemarketer harrasing you lately... >I had no difficulty; I struck the dragon down from the astral side >and disposed of the body where it is sure never to be found." Joel: A theater showing a rerelease of 'The Animal'? Tom: And one bit that Xellos asked to be delivered to his room... Crow: No, the dragon's naughty bits go to Goku. Apparently he collects those. >"Yes, yes, very good. Now begone," he dismissed with a wagle of >fingers. Joel: Wow, that cheesy supervillian dialouge is fun... I'll have to use more of it! >Personally, he felt that they could have got more use out of Filia, >and her death was a waste. Tom: After all she did have huge... tracts of land! Joel: Xellos was in love with that dragon, but it was only Filial love. Crow: But the Filial love of an incestuous man! >But his wishes didn't mean anything against those of his master. Joel: Yes, but you see - this was my dream, my wish. And I'm taking them back. Taking them all back. Tom: So Xelloss is left to.. [singing] Dream, the impossible dream!! Crow: The role of Xellos today is being played by Mazoku-bot 6000... All the charm and wit of a Mazoku, with the stylish charm of a 1960's robot... >"Xelloss! What're doing over there?!" demanded the small sorceress, >who glared at him with suspicion. Joel: You mean she was around during all this? And didn't see anything? Tom: Yeah! Crow: It'd be nice if we had some idea of the *setting...* Joel: There wasn't any buget left for the sets, Crow. >"That's a secret!" he called back happily from a distance away. Crow: No, no no! You're suppoed to have him say, "Sore wa himitsu desu"! You'll get your fanboy license revoked for sure, now. Tom: No. That is a suspicion. Joel: It's my secret place and you can't go there! >"Yeah, whatever. If you're going to hang aorund, be useful or get >lost!" Joel: And how many dragons have YOU disposed of today, huh? Huh? Tom: Now dance. Dance... DANCE! Xellos! Lord of the Dance! >He intened to keep it a secret. He smiled. Crow: You're speaking out loud again, Xellos. Joel: Well, shi... Tom: They never got Caramilk out of me, and they won't get this! Joel: So, what'd we think of this, guys? Crow: Short and shit. Tom: I think I've read more exciting technical manuals. Crow: Porn without plot without porn. Tom: I think this should be counted as an 'Air-fic' -- a 'fic that has absolutely no substance. Joel: Okay, okay... that's enough! Let's head back to the bridge. -- Alarms blared on the Satellite of Love. "There's a ship coming into range!" Joel Robinson scrambled to his feet. "Cambot, give me rocket number nine!" The ship was dark and metallic, almost invisible against the blackness of space. Its shape was something akin to a World War I bi-plane; long wing-like structures, flat on top and curved below, ran from end to end, centering over a cockpit-like module below. Rails ran across the long edges of the wings, as if designed to let someone walk across from one side to the other. "Something's coming in on the hex-field viewscreen!" Joel shouted. The leaves of the screen slid apart, revealing an image of what was obviously the ship's flight deck. Lights flashed and indicators pulsed on electronic control panels attended by empty chairs. "Huh? Hey, you guys, check it out. This ship's control room's got nobody in it!" Crow and Tom stepped up to the screen. "Think it's one o' them unmanned space launches?" Crow asked. A voice called from below. "Down here!" The hex-field view panned rapidly down, through several layers of flooring, coming to a stop in a dimly-lit room, where a figure could be vaguely seen. "Wow, Joel, I never knew Cambot could do that. Does he have some sort of x-ray attachment now?" "Quiet, Crow. Uh, hi, mister--" "Funny how just about all of our visitors from space look pretty much alike, isn't it, Joel. They all look like the person who's going to be replacing you in a few seasons--" "Tom, break the fourth wall again and you've got a time-out coming, know what I'm saying?" Joel turned back towards the viewscreen. "Hello, mister Guy Under the Bridge?" "Um, no, actually," the figure replied. "I'm just some average guy who happened to be passing along. I caught your MST of this Bridge person's fanfic, by the way. Funny stuff. Lots of laughs!" "Thanks," Joel said. "Oh, by the way, I happened to be talking with the author of this fanfic, and he, um, mentioned to me that he's working on a longer story. Maybe that one will show the death of the dragon in all sorts of detail." "Uh huh," Crow said skeptically. Tom hovered over to the screen. "Say, since you've talked with the author and all, tell us, what do you think he would say if he ever saw our MSTing of his story?" "What would the author say? Well, not that I'd know, of course, but just to take a wild guess, maybe it might be something like... 'Shut up!'" The figure's face contorted into a snarl. "'It's a touching story of Xelloss, his wills, and the brutal death of Filia! Everyone is a friggin' critic!" His normal pleasant expression returned. "Something to that effect." Joel cleared his throat. "So, listen, mister... mister Guy Who Isn't Under the Bridge... I don't suppose you'd be able to give us a ride down to Earth?" "Oh, sure I would. No problem at all." Joel's eyes lit up. "Really?" Tom and Crow cheered. "Just as soon as that longer fic is finished." "Oh," Joel and the 'bots sighed. "It's been nice talking with you, but I've gotta run." The figure smiled and waved. "Byebye for now." "Bye!" Joel watched the leaves of the hex-field screen slide shut, then stepped forward as a button on the table began blinking. "I guess that's the end of the experiment," he said, slapping the button. "What'd you think, sirs?" "You-- you can't do this!" Dr. Forrester struggled vainly against the robot drones that held his arms and legs. "I'm afraid you've failed, doctor." The Forrester on the viewscreen laughed. "Joel's mind is still unbroken. You've failed, and I just don't tolerate failure in my organization." "No! Stop!" he cried. "Frank! Frank, you've got to help me! How can you turn against me after all we've done together?" "You've gotta be kidding," Frank said. "Do you know what it's like to work for a boss like you? Always getting hit, being genetically re-engineered, having my organs replaced, all for a miserable five-fifty an hour? Finally, I don't have to put up with it any longer! No more will TV's Frank have to suffer abuse from Doctor Clayton Forrester! From now on, I'm working for... for...." His expression deflated as he stared at the image on the screen. "Frank," the Forrester on the screen said quietly. "Push the button." The world shrank to a point, then faded out. == People responsible for this mess... err, MST. Riffers: Fido, Gary, Lerche, Megane 6.7, Richard, Roper, RST, Ryo, SpaceElf, Unseen, Zoogz Editors: Fido, Gary, Lerche, Richard, Ryo, Zoogz Host Segments by: Gary Other projects by roughly the same group of people can be found at: {http://www.nabiki.com/mst/ffirc} Or, join us on irc.nabiki.com (port #6667) to talk all about fics at #fanfic!