XPost: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc, alt.tv.mst3k   
   From: nebusj-@-rpi-.edu   
      
   >   
   >   
   >       VII   
      
     TOM: Chapter Five, Part II.   
      
   >   
   >       PADDY MUSKRAT'S BLUNDER   
      
    CROW: [ As Emily Litella ] 'What's all this about Paddy Muskrat's bladder?'   
      
   >   
   >       Sometimes Grumpy Weasel found the hunting poor along   
   > the stretch of stone wall that he called his own   
      
    JOEL: Maybe Grumpy should take up gathering?   
      
   >                                                  ---though of   
   > course it really belonged to Farmer Green.   
      
     TOM: [ As Grumpy ] 'I own it by virtue of working the hunting grounds!  Read   
   your Locke!'   
     CROW: [ Pointlessly hostile ] *You* read *your* Locke.   
      
   >                                            And though he   
   > disliked to wander much in strange neighborhoods,   
      
    JOEL: ... he likes the way his existing drives the Nextdoor biddies crazy.   
      
   >                                                   once in a   
   > while he visited other parts of Pleasant Valley.   
      
    CROW: Sometimes he wanders all the way to Simply Passable Hill or Mediocre   
   Brook.  Once even to Disappointing Meadow.   
    JOEL: Mister Meadow Mouse likes it.   
      
   >   
   >       It was on such an excursion to the bank of the mill   
   > pond   
      
     TOM: o/` Down by the old mill pond ... o/`   
      
   >      that he caught sight, one day, of Paddy Muskrat   
      
    CROW: I want to call him Paddy O'Muskrat for some reason.   
      
   >                                                     ---or to   
   > be more exact, that Paddy Muskrat caught sight of him.   
      
    JOEL: You know a caught sight is the most dangerous of all.   
      
   >   
   >       Now it was seldom that anybody spoke to Grumpy   
   > Weasel.   
      
    CROW: And when they did it was about who has the deed to the garden wall.   
      
   >         On the contrary, most of the forest-folk dodged out   
   > of sight whenever they saw him, and said nothing.   
      
     TOM: Wait, nobody likes Grumpy Weasel, nobody likes Fatty Raccoon, does   
   Arthur Scott Bailey have any protagonists he *wants* to spend time with?   
      
   >                                                   So he   
   > wheeled like a flash and started to run when somebody called,   
   > "Hullo, stranger!"   
      
    CROW: He's being visited by the Barbara Lewis?   
      
   >   
   >       One quick backward glance at a small wet head in the   
   > water told Grumpy that he had nothing to fear.   
      
    JOEL: In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be here ...   
      
   >   
   >       "Hullo, yourself!" he retorted "And you'd better not   
   > call me 'stranger,' because I'm no stranger than you are."   
      
     TOM: Well, how strange are you?   
    CROW: Anyone who boasts about how strange they are is about as strange as   
   white broccoli pizza.   
      
   >   
   >       Well, Paddy Muskrat---for it was he who had spied   
   > Grumpy Weasel on the bank of the pond---   
      
    JOEL: No, not *that* Paddy Muskrat, the other one.   
      
   >                                         saw at once that   
   > whoever the slender and elegant person might be,   
      
     TOM: Nick Charles?!   
      
   >                                                  he had the   
   > worst of manners. Though Paddy had lived in the mill pond a   
   > long time, he had never met any one that looked exactly like   
   > the newcomer.   
      
    CROW: Isn't that how newcomers work?   
    JOEL: Not if you're clones.   
    CROW: Oh.   
      
   >               To be sure, there was Peter Mink, who was   
   > long-bodied and short-tempered,   
      
     TOM: [ As Peter Mink, from far off ] 'Hey!  Why pick on me?'   
      
   >                                 as the stranger appeared to   
   > be. But when Paddy inquired whether the visitor wasn't a   
   > distant connection of the Mink family (as indeed he was!),   
      
    CROW: [ As Emily Litella ] 'The *Pink* Family?'   
      
   > Grumpy Weasel said, "What! Do you mean to insult me by asking   
   > whether I'm related to such a ragged, ruffianly crowd?"   
      
     TOM: 'Ruffianly'?   
      
   >   
   >       Somehow Paddy Muskrat rather liked that answer,   
      
    JOEL: 'Ruffianly', yeah, we got us a stranger who says things like   
   'ruffianly'.   
      
   >                                                       for   
   > Peter Mink and all his family were fine swimmers and most   
   > unwelcome in the mill pond.   
      
     TOM: Just ... just because he doesn't like Peter Mink doesn't mean he can't   
   swim.   
      
   >   
   >       And perhaps---who knew?---   
      
    JOEL: It is a crazy, mixed-up world.   
      
   >                                 perhaps the spic-and-span   
   > chap on the bank,   
      
    CROW: Felix Otter!   
      
   >                   with the sleek coat and black-tipped tail,   
      
     TOM: Puttin' on the ritz!   
      
   > was one of the kind that didn't like to get his feet wet.   
      
    JOEL: That he was wearing his swimming trunks suggests otherwise, though.   
      
   >   
   >       Then Paddy Muskrat asked the stranger a silly   
   > question.   
      
     TOM: 'If you could trade tongues with someone, who would it be?'   
      
   >           He was not the wisest person, anyhow, in Pleasant   
   > Valley, as his wife often reminded him.   
      
    CROW: Oh you know women, always reminding you of the existence of wiser   
   muskrats in the valley.   
      
   >                                         "You're not a distant   
   > relation of Tommy Fox, are you?" he inquired.   
      
     TOM: Tommy Fox, the lowland tenrec?   
      
   >   
   >       Grumpy Weasel actually almost smiled.   
      
    JOEL: [ As Grumpy, hollering in pain ] 'AAAAUGH!'   
      
   >   
   >       "Now, how did you happen to guess that?" he asked.   
      
    CROW: [ As Grumpy ] 'Because, man, if that idea ust popped into your head   
   you're a sack of doorknobs!'   
      
   >   
   >       "Because you've got such a sharp nose," Paddy Muskrat   
   > replied.   
      
    JOEL: You know what they say, sharp nose, warm heart.   
      
   >          And he was quite pleased with himself, for he   
   > thought that he wasn't so stupid as some people thought.   
      
     TOM: Oh ... oh, honey, please, sit down before you hurt yourself.   
      
   >   
   >       "Any other reason?" Grumpy Weasel inquired, stepping   
   > to the edge of the overhanging bank.   
      
    CROW: Look out, Paddy, it's a trap!   
      
   >   
   >       "You don't like to get your feet wet," Paddy Muskrat   
   > said.   
      
     TOM: Objection, assumes personality traits not in evidence.   
      
   >       And feeling safe as anything, he swam nearer the spot   
   > where the stranger was crouching.   
      
    JOEL: Just think of being the phone company guy walking Paddy through moving   
   his SIM card.   
      
   >   
   >       Paddy saw, almost too late, that he had made a bad   
   > blunder.   
      
    CROW: Can't you even tell a cabbage from a lettuce?!   
      
   >          For without the slightest warning Grumpy Weasel   
   > leaped at him.   
      
    JOEL: Aaah!  Snuggle party!   
      
   >                And had not Paddy been a wonderful swimmer and   
   > able to dive like a flash,   
      
     TOM: What, *nekkid*?!   
      
   >                            he would never have dashed,   
   > panting, into his house a few moments later.   
   >   
   >       "What on earth is the matter?" his wife asked him.   
      
    CROW: [ As Paddy ] 'NOTHING!  Nothing, uh, nothing ... listen, we don't have   
   any holes on us, do we?'   
      
   >   
   >       "I've been having a swimming race with a stranger,"   
      
    JOEL: Seems more like a diving race to me?   
      
   > Paddy explained. "I don't know his name. But I do know that   
   > he'd just as soon get his feet wet as I would."   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)