XPost: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc, alt.tv.mst3k   
   From: nebusj-@-rpi-.edu   
      
   >   
   >   
   >       XVI   
      
    CROW: X versus I, the final confrontation!   
      
   >   
   >       GUARDING THE CORNCRIB   
      
     TOM: The ...   
    JOEL: This adventure's going to be a struggle.   
      
   >   
   >       Grumpy Weasel never seemed to have anything but bad   
   > luck whenever he went near the farmyard.   
      
    CROW: Hey, you know what's good luck?  A rabbit's foot --- oh.   
      
   >                                          Perhaps that was the   
   > reason why he kept going back there, for he was nothing if   
   > not determined.   
      
     TOM: I'm starting to think he looks for things to be grumpy about.   
      
   >                 Anyhow, he had found the hunting poor along   
   > his stone wall in the woods.   
      
    JOEL: Nobody hunts there anymore, it's too popular.   
      
   >                              And there was so much "game," as   
   > he called it,   
      
    CROW: Game, but not in so many words.   
    JOEL: It's some big game, like Huge Monopoly and Giant Uno and Nine Tall   
   Men's Morris.   
      
   >               about the farm buildings that he thought it was   
   > silly to leave it for such scamps as Peter Mink and Tommy Fox   
      
     TOM: Scampy Squirrel ...   
    CROW: Swindler Skunk ...   
    JOEL: Slick Stork ...   
      
   > and Fatty Raccoon.   
      
   [ ALL gasp! ]   
     TOM: Are we --- is this a legit crossover?   
      
   >   
   >       So he took to loitering near Farmer Green's corncrib.   
      
    CROW: Don't go too near, you'll have to change the corn-nappies.   
      
   > And he was not at all pleased to find Fatty Raccoon there one   
   > evening.   
      
    JOEL: Ladies!  And Gentlemen!  The hardest-eating raccoon in the business!    
   Two tons of ringtail in a four-ton bag, the one, the only, Fatty Raccoon!   
     TOM: [ As Fatty ] 'Who, little ol' me?'   
      
   >          He wouldn't have spoken to Fatty at all had not that   
   > plump young chap hurled a cutting remark directly at him:   
      
     TOM: Scissors slice incisor vorpal blade weasel.   
      
   > "There are no chickens in this building. This is a corncrib."   
      
    CROW: Thank you, Torgo.   
      
   >   
   >       "Don't you suppose I know that?" Grumpy retorted.   
      
    JOEL: I make no assumptions about what weasels know about what chickens know   
   about what corncribs can be used for.   
      
   > "I've come here to guard the corn from mice and squirrels."   
      
     TOM: And, uh, the space aliens who are stealing our cribs.   
      
   >   
   >       "There's no need of your doing that," Fatty Raccoon   
   > told him.   
      
    CROW: [ As Grumpy ] 'Oh, is there no need of my doing that?  What if I say   
   no, there isn't there no need of my doing that?  What then, varlet?'   
      
   >           "Have you never noticed those tin pans, upside   
   > down, on top of the posts on which the corncrib rests?   
      
     TOM: Tin Pan Alley was smaller than I thought!   
      
   >                                                        How   
   > could a mouse or a squirrel ever climb past one of those?"   
      
    CROW: Maybe something peppy in 3/4 time that'll sell in Brooklyn *and* Peoria?   
      
   >   
   >       "There are ways," Grumpy Weasel said wisely.   
      
     TOM: He's bluffing!  Get him!   
      
   >   
   >       "I doubt it," Fatty replied. "I don't believe the   
   > trick can be done."   
      
    JOEL: We've had to watch six thousand short films about how to have good   
   posture while dating a Chevy salesman on the phone and not one word about what   
   the heck a corncrib is or why you'd have tin pans on them.   
      
   >   
   >       Then, not to oblige Fatty, but to show him he was   
   > mistaken,   
      
     TOM: Anyone can do any amount of work as long as it's part of showing   
   someone else is wrong.   
      
   >           Grumpy climbed a tree near-by, dropped from one of   
   > its branches to the roof of the corncrib,   
      
    CROW: Oh but what squirrel could have mastered climbing a tree *and* jumping   
   from it to get food?   
      
   >                                           and quickly found a   
   > crack in the side of the building through which he slipped   
   > with no trouble at all.   
      
    JOEL: Um ... bye?   
      
   >   
   >       Suddenly there was a great scurrying and scrambling   
   > inside.   
      
    CROW: Eh, I've seen greater.   
      
   >         And soon Fatty Raccoon saw Frisky Squirrel   
      
     TOM: Snrrk!   
    JOEL: Wait, really?   
      
   >                                                    and   
   > several of his friends   
      
     TOM: Randy Chipmunk, Lusty Woodchuck, and Arthur the Anhedonic Pocket Gopher.   
      
   >                       ---not to mention three frightened   
   > mice---   
      
    JOEL: Good job not mentioning them!   
    CROW: Arthur Scott Bailey slapping his forehead, saying he swore he wasn't   
   going to do that again.   
      
   >        come tumbling out and tear off in every direction.   
      
     TOM: Including thorbwards.   
      
   >   
   >       Presently Grumpy Weasel stuck his head through a   
   > crack between two boards.   
      
    CROW: [ As the Wizard of Oz doorkeeper ] 'Who rang that bell?'   
      
   >   
   >       "Did you catch the robbers?" he called to Fatty   
   > Raccoon.   
      
     TOM: [ As Fatty ] 'What are you, a cop?'   
      
   >   
   >       "They were too spry for me," Fatty told him.   
      
    CROW: Also I don't eat named cast, I'm not a *monster*.   
      
   >                                                    He   
   > wouldn't have stopped one anyhow, for Grumpy Weasel.   
      
    JOEL: The screen energy of this pair, it's like Paul Newman and Robert   
   Redford together.   
      
   >   
   >       "Which way did they go, old Slow Poke?"   
      
     TOM: Old Slow Poke?  Nah, they went by the South Buttons Shunpike.   
      
   >                                               Grumpy cried   
   > as he jumped down in great haste.   
      
    CROW: Even gravity wants Grumpy Weasel to go.   
      
   >   
   >       "Everywhere!" Fatty told him.   
      
    JOEL: All at once?!   
      
   >   
   >       "Can't you be a little more exact?   
      
     TOM: [ As Fatty ] 'Everywhere but *here*.'   
    CROW: [ As Grumpy ] 'OK, that does help, though.'   
      
   >                                           You don't   
   > think---do you?---that I can run more than one way at a   
   > time?"   
      
    CROW: What if you saunter?  Maybe you can saunter in up to three directions   
   at once?   
      
   >   
   >       "Why don't you run round and round in a circle?"   
      
    JOEL: Like a record baby, right round, round, round.   
      
   > Fatty suggested. "In that way you might catch at least half   
   > those youngsters---and perhaps all of them."   
      
     TOM: Merry-go-weasel.   
    CROW: Grumpy-go-weasel.   
    JOEL: It's just nice to see a weasel getting out of the whole pop-goes-ing   
   box.   
      
   >   
   >       "That's the first real idea you ever had in your   
   > life!"   
      
    JOEL: Hey, he had that great 'cheese pie au gratin' plan.   
      
   >        Grumpy exclaimed---which was as near to thanking a   
   > person as he was ever known to come.   
      
    CROW: What if he has to thank a person a second time?   
      
   [ the end ... for this week ]   
      
      
   --   
                                                                   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)