Mystery Science Theater 3000 and the characters of Mike Nelson, Tom Servo, Crow T. Robot and Gypsy are property of Best Brains, Inc. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit is being made.
JUST A NORMAL DAY ON THE SATELLITE OF LOVE
By James Anatidae
It's a pleasant day aboard the Satellite of Love. What say we look in our heroes, shall we?
***
Our story begins on a Saturday. The week's experiment wasn't until tomorrow, so the crew could relax. Tom and Crow were both in one of their rare quiet periods, as both were totally engrossed in a game of checkers. Mike was reading his copy of the latest John Grissom legal thriller, an open bottle of Old Milwaukee beside him. Gypsy's off busying herself with some basic maintenance on the Satellite, 5 billion-mile oil change and the like. The only sound was the quiet hum of dog bone shaped spacecraft's machinery. All was well.
"Ah ha! King me!" Tom yelled with great glee, shattering the silence.
"Oh poopie!" replied Crow in obvious annoyance. He then seemed to suddenly brighten. "Fine move Mr. Servo. I congratulate you on your fine playing today."
"Why thank you, Crow. I've never known you to be such a good…LOSER! Ha ha! Loser! Put that checker on there pronto, Baby!"
Crow ignored the insults and continued being very pleasant. "Why of course, Tom, my superior in every way. I'll just…TOM! Someone's stealing your underwear collection!"
"What!?! Where?" Tom whirled around in surprise and confusion.
"Oh never mind. It must have just been my imagination. I already made my move. King me."
"Gee whiz, Crow, your playing has improved. A moment ago it seemed like I was winning and now…wait a minute! I'm red, not black! Crow, you spun the board around when I wasn't looking!"
"Oh come now!" Crow said, acting shocked "Don't try to use some paranoid excuse to cover up your poor playing skills."
At this moment, Mike spoke up. "Actually, Crow, you did move the board. I saw the whole thing. You even looked right at me when you did it, remember?"
"Well, if all you in here are tattle-taleing louses and lying playmates, I'll just leave then!" Crow stomped out in a huff.
Tom was a bit confused by this. "Hold it. That last line didn't really make sense."
"How often does Crow say something that does?" Said Mike with a shrug.
"You're right there, my friend. So now that Crow has gone to sulk, what do I do to amuse myself?"
"I could do my Fonzie impression."
"Uh, Mike, the last time you did that, we had to blow you into atoms with that cannon."
"Oh yeah. We could pretend we're in shop class again."
"My arms don't work."
"Oh yeah. We could go to Disneyland."
"Uh, Mike, honey, we'd have to be back on Earth, which we aren't, plus we'd need large amounts of cash, which we don't have."
"Oh yeah. We could…"
***
Half-an-hour later…
***
"Mike, that would defy two of Newton's laws of motion."
"Oh yeah. We could always…"
"MIKE, IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, SHUT UP!!!!! I'm just going to watch some mindless daytime TV, okay?!?
Just stop making these stupid suggestions!"
"Just trying to help!" Mike called after the quickly retreating form of Servo. Shrugging, he returned to his book. He'd barely read more than a sentence before he was interrupted again by Magic Voice.
"Mike?"
Looking up, he replied. "Yes, Magic Voice?"
"Just wanted to let you know that sensors have picked up an unknown spacecraft in a direct intersect course with the satellite."
"Okay."
***
Now Mike has an extremely low alcohol tolerance, and even through he's only consumed half of his bottle of beer, it'll take a few moments for his brain to catch up with Magic Voice's words. We'll give him a couple more seconds.
Waaaaaaaaaaait for it...
***
"WHAT!?!"
***
Took a bit longer than I expected, but his mind finally kicked in.
***
Mike rushed into action, starting off by stepping on his undone shoelace and falling flat on his face. After checking to make sure his nose wasn't broken, he called out.
"Cambot, give me rocket number nine!"
Cambot quickly complied and opened up the Hexfield Viewscreen (Patent Pending). It clearly showed a small white spacecraft with blue markings heading for the satellite.
"At the it's current speed, it will reach us in minutes." Informed Magic Voice.
Mike rushed into action again, somehow managing to trip over the same shoelace again. Then he called out. "Magic Voice! Activate the panic alarm!"
Immediately a screeching alarm sounded throughout the ship. The 'bots were in the control room in seconds, screaming their heads off and running around wildly, parts flying off.
"Ahhhhhhhhh! Panic! Ahhhhhhhhh!"
"Guys calm down! We need to stay focused!"
Crow and Tom managed to calm down. "So, Mike, buddy boy, what's up?" asked Tom nonchalantly.
"An unknown spacecraft is heading straight for us."
"Ahhhhhhhhh! Panic! Ahhhhhhhhh!"
"Guys!"
"Face it Nelson! A huge slimy alien creature is about to eat our brains!" cried Tom.
"Spacecraft has docked with the satellite." Calmly announced Magic Voice.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" They all screamed.
The doors to the control opened and in walked in...
***
Oh God, I can't look! What could it be?
***
...a mailman.
As the 'bots cowered under the desk, he looked down at his clipboard. "Are you Michael Nielson?"
"Nelson, yeah. What do you want?"
Tom popped out from underneath. "You're going to suck out our brains, aren't you?" He cried out.
The man gave Tom an odd look and turned back to Mike.
"U.S. Postal service. We've been looking for you for awhile, Neilson. I've got five years worth of your back mail with me."
"Wow, gee, thanks. I guess there must be a lot."
"Actually, there's just a phone that was due on March 24th, 1993 and this," he said, heaving a huge sack onto the desktop, "Sack of junk mail."
"Oh."
"Next time be sure to fill out a change of address form, alright? Sign here." He held out the clipboard and Mike signed on the bottom line.
"Listen, could you give us a ride back to Earth?" Mike asked, capping his pen.
"Sorry pal, U.S. Postal Code Rule #2378/B, paragraph sixteen. 'No unauthorized passengers in government-owned vehicles.' You'll have to get another ride. See ya." The postman walked off, back to his spacecraft.
After watching him go, Mike grabbed a handful of letters from the sack and went off to his room, looking through them.
"Hey you guys, I might have won a million dollars!" he said, moments before tripping over that same darn shoelace again.
"Sad really." Tom observed.
***
Really just a normal day on the SOL. You should be there when it gets hectic. :)
The End (For Now)
Copyright 2001 by James Anatidae