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|    alt.fan.mst3k    |    Mystery Science Theatre 3000    |    377 messages    |
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|    Message 371 of 377    |
|    Joseph Nebus to All    |
|    MiSTed: The Tale of Jimmy Rabbit, Chapte    |
|    25 Dec 25 22:10:54    |
      XPost: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc, alt.tv.mst3k       From: nebusj-@-rpi-.edu              >       >       >       >       > [Illustration: 18 A Dance Without Music]               CROW: The saddest tune on 'Meet The Beatles'.              >       > Chapter 18       >       > A Dance Without Music               TOM: _But_ you do get your choice of onion rings or mozzarella sticks, so ...              >       >       > As soon as Tommy Fox began to dance with the strange       > lady (she was really Fatty Raccoon, you know),               JOEL: Are you sure? Narrator, I don't think that's been proven.              > he saw very       > quickly that she was not a good dancer at all.               CROW: All these animals dance like they have two left feet!              > She kept       > stepping on Tommy's feet, and tripping him.               TOM: Wait a minute, I don't *have* feet!              > And Tommy kept       > wishing that the music would begin, so he could stop dancing.               CROW: Did Jimmy ensorcel them? Can they just not stop?              > You remember that Jimmy Rabbit had said that this was to be a       > dance _without_ music, and that everybody had to be       > blindfolded, too.               JOEL: [ Full of wonder ] Hey! I *do* remember!        TOM: Pieces are all coming together.              >       > At first, Tommy Fox and his partner kept bumping into       > other dancers.               CROW: Then their sonar-like hearing kicked in and they moved with grace and       ease.              > That was natural enough, too, because how       > could anyone see, with a pocket-handkerchief tied over his       > eyes?               JOEL: Well, get your eyes out of your pockets and there's no problem.              >       > After a while Tommy noticed that they bumped into       > fewer and fewer people, until at last they never ran into any       > others at all.               CROW: Is this a metaphor for growing old? I hate metaphors for growing old.        They make me feel ...        TOM: Old?        CROW: Like I'm in English class.              > But he never stopped to wonder at that. He was       > only glad that it was so.               JOEL: Frith ordered the rabbits to be clever and full of tricks, and the       foxes to just go along with stuff and see where it leads.        CROW: He can't see where it leads, he's blindfolded!              >       > Being blindfolded, he had not seen what was going on.               CROW: Told you!              > But Jimmy Rabbit was very busy. He kept going up to all the       > rabbit dancers, and whispering to them,               TOM: [ As a rabbit ] 'Why do I even want to push your wheelbarrow?'              > and telling them to       > take their pocket-handkerchiefs off their eyes and run away,               JOEL: Well, that just seems rude.              > because Tommy Fox and Fatty Raccoon had come to the Rabbits'       > Ball, without being invited.               CROW: Shouldn't this be something for the bouncers to handle instead?              > So two by two the dancers stole       > off, until there were only three of the merrymakers left.               TOM: Dancers can only leave the ball in pairs, so now the last three are       stuck.              > Two       > of those were Tommy Fox and Fatty Raccoon, who were still       > dancing, still blindfolded, and each still thinking that the       > other was a rabbit.               JOEL: Wait, Tommy Fox and Fatty Raccoon didn't come to the ball together?        CROW: Are there *any* rabbits at the Rabbits' Ball?              > The third was Jimmy Rabbit himself.               CROW: OK, so that's *one*.              > But       > he was not dancing. He was peeping out from behind a tree,               TOM: Rabbits: tree-climbers of North America.              > and wondering what was going to happen.               JOEL: Is it shenanigans? I bet it's shenanigans.              >       > And all the time Tommy Fox was wishing the music       > would begin.               CROW: [ As Chico Marx ] I can't think of the beginning of this song!        TOM: [ As Groucho ] I can't think of anything else.              > Of course, he didn't know that Jimmy Rabbit had       > sent the fiddlers away.               CROW: Old King Cole was calling for them anyway.              >       > Now, the longer they danced, the oftener the fat lady       > stepped on Tommy's feet.               TOM: They are *so* far from the beat.              > And he grew so angry that he finally       > said:               JOEL: [ As Tommy ] Ow!              >       > "Do be careful where you step!"               CROW: I'm sorry, Ollie!              >       > That remark did not please Fatty Raccoon.               TOM: Look, you don't get to be one of the top raccoons in Pleasant Valley by       looking where you step.              >       > "Don't tell _me_ how to dance!" he said. "You're a       > great, clumsy creature!"               JOEL: You have to see it to know what separates a mediocre clumsy creature       from a great one.              >       > "I'm not!" Tommy retorted. "I'm the best dancer at       > the Ball. But _you_ can't dance any better than a raccoon!"               CROW: Are raccoons noted for not being good dancers?        JOEL: I've never seen one breaking well enough to save a community rec center.              >       > That was enough for Fatty. He tore the handkerchief       > off his eyes.               TOM: No! What if your eyes sneeze?              > And Tommy Fox was just as quick. He saw that he       > had made an unwise speech.               JOEL: Not unwisdom!              > And he snatched the bandage from       > his own face.               CROW: Surely his new rabbit face has healed by *now*!              >       > "You've played a trick on me!" Tommy Fox cried, when       > he saw that all the other dancers--and the fiddlers, too--had       > gone.               TOM: [ As Tommy ] The fortune-teller! Just like he predicted!        JOEL: [ As Fatty ] You have to stop saying that about *everything* that       happens to you!              >       > "You've played one on me!" Fatty Raccoon shouted. And       > he pulled the mask off Tommy Fox's face.               TOM: I'm gonna say it. This is _not_ a good adaptation of Jane Austen.              >       > And again Tommy Fox was just as quick. He reached out       > and twitched away Fatty Raccoon's mask.               JOEL: Fatty reached back and Picarto'd away Tommy Fox's gloves.        TOM: Tommy reaches back one more time and Tubi'd away Fatty's boxing gloves.              >       > For one second they stared at each other. And then       > they jumped at each other.               CROW: Have at you!        JOEL: Seriously, did Fatty and Tommy just hit on the 'let's crash the       Rabbits' Ball' independently?              >       > Jimmy Rabbit didn't wait to see anything more.               TOM: The chapter's been going on a while and he's tuckered out.              > He       > felt that it would be much safer somewhere else. And besides,       > the Rabbits' Ball had come to an end.               CROW: After twelve minutes of silent dancing.              >       > That was the last time that Fatty Raccoon and Tommy       > Fox ever went to a party to which they were not invited.               JOEL: C'mon, what are the odds this would ever happen to them a second time?        TOM: Joel, this *was* the second time.              > Jimmy Rabbit had taught them a lesson.                     [continued in next message]              --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05        * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)    |
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