XPost: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc, alt.tv.mst3k   
   From: nebusj-@-rpi-.edu   
      
   [ SATELLITE OF LOVE.  TOM zips in, wearing a nightshirt, cap, and an eye mask   
   over his transparent dome.  CAMBOT is close on TOM. ]   
      
     TOM: I'll change, I'll change, I'm not the raccoon I was!  [ Looking to the   
   opposite corner of the screen ]  You there!   
      
   [ CAMBOT pulls back, revealing GYPSY in front of the desk, at the corner of   
   the screen ]   
      
   GYPSY: Me?   
     TOM: What day is it?   
   GYPSY: What day? ... Why it's Thursday.   
     TOM: Thursday!  Then I haven't missed it!  The spirits must have done   
   everything in one night!   
   GYPSY: Uh-huh.   
     TOM: Well, of course they can, they're spirits --- Tell me, Farmer Green's   
   house, does he still have those turkeys there?   
   GYPSY: The ones as big as me?  They're still there.   
     TOM: Quick, run there and tell them I'm not going to eat them!  Do it in   
   less than five minutes and I'll give you half a crown!   
   GYPSY: Uh-huh.   
      
   [ GYPSY leaves the frame; CAMBOT pans back in on TOM ]   
      
     TOM: [ Sing-song, dancing about ] Oh, I don't know anything, I never did   
   know anything, I don't know anything ... I need to ... I need to stand on my   
   head!   
      
   [ TOM wiggles a bit and, of course, does not ]   
      
     TOM: I *don't* need to stand on my head!  ... Oh, oh, to work, now.  To   
   setting things right.   
      
   [ TOM zips off-camera, and reappears with a decent coat and a hat on.  As he   
   crosses the desk, the off-camera voice of CROW becomes audible.  He's singing   
   'Barbara Allen'.  TOM comes up to MIKE, who's holding a feather duster and   
   wearing a ruffled collar    
   to evoke a maid.  TOM looks wistfully out of frame, in CROW's direction.  MIKE   
   gently takes TOM's hat, smiles the tiniest bit and nods, and steps out of   
   frame.  CAMBOT pulls back to reveal CROW, wearing rabbit ears, and pink eyes.    
   CROW is singing and    
   whooping it up in front of an imaginary party. ]   
      
    CROW: [ Singing ] For love of Barbara Al --- [ Abruptly stopping ]  Uncle   
   Fatty!   
     TOM: Jimmy ... is it too late to accept your invitation to dinner?   
    CROW: Too late?  Too late!  I'm delighted, Uncle Fatty.  [ Talking to the air   
   ] Brother, look who it is!   
     TOM: Can you forgive a pigheaded old fool?  For clinging to my soreness   
   about the barber shop thing?  For not visiting you recovering from your pink   
   eye?   
    CROW: Of course, dear Uncle!  Oh, bless you, you've made me and my brother [   
   waving his arm out to nothing ] boundlessly happy!   
     TOM: Yes, Jimmy.  You ... [ looking to the camera, shaking his head ] ...   
   and your 'brother'.  [ He looks down a moment ]   
    CROW: Jasper, a polka!   
      
    [ Music; CAMBOT focuses in on TOM as the light dims and he moves back to the   
   original side of the desk.  After a short while, the lights come on again.    
   MIKE, holding a pitchfork, enters from the opposite side of the screen. ]   
      
     TOM: [ Surly ] Farmer Green!  You're late!  What do you mean coming in this   
   time of day?  Mmm?!   
    MIKE: [ Baffled ] I'm ... sorry?   
     TOM: Well, we won't beat around the bush.  I'm not going to stand for this   
   sort of thing any longer; I have *no alternative* but to raise your corn. ...   
      
   [ MIKE shows no sign of understanding any of this ]   
      
     TOM: Oh, I haven't taken leave of my senses, Green.  I've come to them.    
   I've seen what my gluttony, my selfishness, my pettiness has done.  I --- I   
   want to try to help you and that boy Johnnie of yours.  No one should grow up   
   without benefit of    
   raccoon.   
    MIKE: [ Jabbing TOM with the pitchfork ]  Shoo!  Shoo, raccoon!  Go on!  Get   
   out of here!   
     TOM: No!  Wait!  I've learned the errors of my --- Ow!  Ow!  Stop!  I know   
   what ---   
      
   [ MIKE jabs a bit more ]   
      
     TOM: These spirits showed me how my refusal to connect ---   
    MIKE: Git on home!   
      
   [ MIKE connects with the pitchfork again; TOM moves away, eventually going   
   off-screen ]   
      
     TOM: Stop it!  We could make viral videos together!   
    MIKE: Crazy old forest animals.  Don't know what gets into ...   
     TOM: [ Simultaneously ] I HOPE YOU GET EATEN BY A FLIVVER!   
    CROW: [ Leaning into camera ] God ... bless us?  Everyone?   
      
      
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                            ---O---   
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           Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters, its setup, and whatever   
   else I'm overlooking are the property of someone who isn't me.  Satellite of   
   Love, LLC, I guess.  Arthur Scott Bailey's _The Tale of Fatty Raccoon_ is in   
   the public domain and    
   so *does* belong to me, and to you, and to anyone else who wants to create   
   something new that brings joy to the world.  So now you go out and bring some   
   world-joy with all this.  No pressure.  But start ... *now*.   
      
   > 	"Ho, ho! That's a good one! That's a good joke!" The tramp   
   > raccoon laughed heartily.   
   --   
                                                                   Joseph Nebus   
    Math Blog: https://nebusresearch.wordpress.com   
   Humor Blog: https://nebushumor.wordpress.com   
   --------------------------------------------------------+---------------------   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)