XPost: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc, alt.tv.mst3k   
   From: nebusj-@-rpi-.edu   
      
   [ SEASON TEN opening. ]   
      
   [ 1... 2...  3... 4... 5... 6... ]   
      
   [ SATELLITE OF LOVE.  TOM is reading a newspaper and chuckling as MIKE and   
   CROW enter.	]   
      
   TOM:   Hee heee!   
   MIKE:  What's up there, Thomas?   
   CROW:  He finally noticed they print the 'Jumble' answers upside-down.   
   TOM:   I'm now a happy subscriber to the Ironic Comics page.   
      
   [ MIKE takes the paper from TOM's hands.  CROW peeks at a corner, letting the   
   paper flap over his beak. ]   
      
   TOM:   'Beetle Bailey' as Wagnerian opera!  Fred Basset portrayed by a very   
   long duck!  'The Lockhorns' with neither lock nor horn!   
   MIKE:  Hey, I like this Clip-Art 'Cathy'.  She married Irving Berlin.   
   CROW:  Wait, this is just 'Henry'.  What's ironic about that?   
   TOM:   What's *not* ironic about 'Henry'?   
      
   [ MADS sign flashes. ]   
      
   MIKE:  Ahp.  Agatha Crumm is calling.   
      
      
   [ CASTLE FORRESTER.  PEARL, PROFESSOR BOBO, and the OBSERVER are at a table. ]   
      
   OBSERVER: I love 'For Better Or For Worse, And It Turns Out, Worse.' [ To   
   PEARL's withering indifference. ]  It puts at the end of every strip Anthony   
   whining how 'I have no home!'   
   PEARL:    OK, Mark Trail.  We've tried everything to break your spirits.    
   We've tried bad movies.   
   BOBO:	  We've tried telephones!   
   PEARL:	  We've tried fan fiction.   
   OBSERVER: We've tried advertisements!   
   PEARL:	  We've tried the most Ruby-Spearsish Hanna-Barbera Christmas specials!   
   BOBO:	  I love that one with Goober and Gumdrop!   
   OBSERVER: Now let's try ... young-reader animal fantasy!   
   PEARL:	  Your experiment for today is the first five chapters of Arthur Scott   
   Bailey's 1915 piece of ouvre _The Tale of Fatty Coon_.   
   BOBO:	  See if you learn something special from all this adorable animal   
   fantasy!   
      
      
   [ SATELLITE OF LOVE.  MOVIE SIGN and general chaos. ]   
      
   MIKE:	    Oh, no!  Animal fantasy!   
   TOM, CROW:  AAAAGH!   
      
      
   [ 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1.. ]   
      
   [ THEATER.  ALL file in. ]   
      
   > SLEEPY-TIME TALES   
      
   TOM:	      So ... uh ... good night?   
      
   > THE TALE OF FATTY COON   
      
   CROW: From Buster Keaton through learning there *is* such a thing as bad   
   publicity.   
      
   > BY ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY   
      
   TOM: o/` Arthur was born just a plain simple man o/`   
      
   > ILLUSTRATED BY HARRY L. SMITH   
   > NEW YORK   
      
   MIKE: Illustrated by Harry L Smith and the New York dancers!   
      
   >   
   > 1915   
      
   >	I   
   >   
   >	FATTY COON AT HOME   
      
   TOM: 	Just sitting around the home ...   
      
   >   
   >	Fatty Coon was so fat and round   
      
   CROW: 	Oh come *on*.   
   MIKE: 	Man, 1915 and they're ahead of our lead joke.   
      
   >                                       that he looked like a ball of   
   > fur, with a plumelike tail for a handle.  But if you looked at him   
   > closely you would have seen a pair of very bright eyes watching you.   
      
   CROW: 	  From the tail?   
   TOM: 	  Raccoons can see very well through their handles.   
      
   >   
   >	Fatty loved to eat.   
      
   CROW:	And that's all the personality he'll need!   
   MIKE:	Pretty much all the personality I have.   
      
   >                           Yes---he loved eating better than anything   
   > else in the world. That was what made him so fat.   
      
   TOM:   'I'm getting ready to hibernate for winter!'   
   CROW:  'It's May.'   
   TOM:   'I don't want to get caught by surprise.'   
      
   >                                                   And that, too, was   
   > what led him into many adventures.   
      
   CROW:  Like the adventure of Waffle House At 3 am.   
   MIKE:  Taking his life and his maple syrup into his own paws.   
      
   >   
   >	Close by a swamp, which lay down in the valley, between Blue   
   > Mountain and Swift River,   
      
   TOM:	   Burger King on the right and if you come to the old middle school   
   you've gone too far.   
      
   >                           Fatty Coon lived with his mother and his   
   > brother and his two sisters.   
      
   CROW:	  And his mayonnaise.   
      
   >                              Among them all there was what grown   
   > people call "a strong family resemblance," which is the same thing as   
   > saying that they all looked very much alike.   
      
   TOM:	 What, because all raccoons look the same to you?   
      
   >                                              The tail of each one of   
   > them---mother and children too---had six black rings around it. Each of   
   > them had a dark brown patch of fur across the face, like a mask.   
      
   MIKE:  _Clonus: The Ranger Rick Project_.   
      
   > And---what do you think?---each of them, even Fatty and his brother and   
   > his sisters, had a stiff, white moustache!   
      
   CROW: This is getting near body shaming, Mister Arthur Scott Bailey.   
      
   >   
   >	Of course, though they all looked so much alike, you would   
   > have known which was Mrs. Coon, for she was so much bigger than her   
   > children.   
      
   TOM:	And she had that ISO 9000 consulting job for Lockheed.   
      
   >           And you would have known which was Fatty---he was so much   
   > rounder than his brother and his sisters.   
      
   CROW:	  And he had a bear claw in his mouth.   
   MIKE:	  The pastry?   
   CROW:	  We'll see.   
      
   >   
   >	Mrs. Coon's home was in the hollow branch of an old tree.   
      
   TOM:	They were the first wave of gentrification moving in.   
   MIKE:	Classic cycle.  Starving artists, hipsters, raccoons, rents go up.   
      
   >                                                                  It   
   > was a giant of a tree---a poplar close by a brook which ran into the   
   > swamp---and the branch which was Mrs. Coon's home was as big as most   
   > tree-trunks are.   
      
   MIKE:	      Look, it's a tree, all right?  I'm Arthur Scott Bailey, I got   
   bigger fish to fry than specifying poplar trees.   
      
   >   
   >	Blackie was Fatty's brother---for the mask on his face was just   
   > a little darker than the others'.   
      
   TOM:	   *Blackie* Coon?   
   MIKE:	   Oh dear Lord.   
      
   >                                    Fluffy was one of Fatty's sisters,   
   > because her fur was just a little fluffier than the other children's.   
      
   TOM:	  *Fluffy* Coon?   
   CROW:	  When Andrew WK visits Anthrocon?   
      
   > And Cutey was the other sister's name, because she was so quaint.   
      
   TOM:  I feel like I need to apologize and I don't even know who to.   
      
   >   
   >	Now, Fatty Coon was forever looking around for something to   
   > eat.   
      
   MIKE:	'Here's a thing!' (Gulp)   
   TOM:	'That's a vase!'   
   MIKE:	Needs honey mustard.'   
      
   >      He was never satisfied with what his mother brought home for him.   
      
   CROW:  'Crawdads and berries *again*?'   
   MIKE:  'No, this is berries and Crawdads.'   
      
   > No matter how big a dinner Mrs. Coon set before her family, as soon as   
   > he had finished eating his share Fatty would wipe his white moustache   
   > carefully---for all the world like some old gentleman---and hurry off in   
   > search of something more.   
      
   MIKE:	 'Fatty, that's a rock.'   
   CROW:	 'That's a rock with ranch dressing.'   
      
   >   
   >	Sometimes he went to the edge of the brook and tried to catch   
   > fish by hooking them out of the water with his sharp claws.   
      
   TOM:   'Best case scenario, I catch a snack.  Worst case, I touch a goldfish.    
   Either way, a win!'   
      
   >                                                             Sometimes   
   > he went over to the swamp and hunted for duck among the tall reeds.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)