XPost: rec.arts.tv.mst3k.misc, alt.tv.mst3k   
   From: nebusj@rpi.edu   
      
   [ OPENING SEQUENCE ]   
      
   [ 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. ]   
      
   [ SOL DESK.  JOEL, TOM and CROW are at the desk, deep in discussion. ]   
      
    CROW: I'd say he would grow up with eating habits memorized, but not   
           internalized.  He'd eat healthily but not understand why.   
     TOM: The answer has to depend on whether the child can shapeshift.   
           That changes everything.   
    JOEL: [ Touching CROW and TOM's shoulders ] Oh, hey, we're on, everyone.   
           Hi there, and welcome to the Satellite of Love.  This afternoon   
           we're going to participate in a hideously evil experiment, and   
           before that we're discussing a 'Winnie the Witch' cartoon Hanna-   
           Barbera made in the 60s.   
     TOM: In this short, stork error delivers a baby to Winnie Witch, a   
           feeble simulacrum of Witch Hazel, and she adopts it.   
    CROW: But the baby's reluctant to drink milk, so she turns it into a   
           kitten.   
    JOEL: And we're debating the long-term developmental challenges this may   
           inflict on the baby.   
    CROW: Such as confusion over self-identity and body image.   
     TOM: And whether it'd ever learn to eat healthily.  If habits are   
           learned by storing memories in that big ol' chemical soup of the   
           human brain, then how are they wrecked by completely rewriting   
           the kid's biochemistry, from cat to kid and so on?   
    JOEL: So far we don't know.   
     TOM: I'd say it depends if the kid can shapeshift on his own.  If he   
           can, then when he's hungry for -- let's say -- Brussels sprouts,   
           he'll turn into a beaver or whatever eats them.  When he needs   
           meat, he'll become a basset hound or something.   
    CROW: When he needs plankton he'll turn into a whale.   
     TOM: Exactly, Crow, you get it.   
    JOEL: Uh, guys, humans don't eat plankton.   
     TOM: Just because you don't, don't assume nobody ever does, Joel.   
    JOEL: It's just not something we can eat.   
    CROW: Maybe that's the problem.  Did anyone ever transmogrify *you* when   
           you were growing up, Joel? [ JOEL shakes his head and starts to   
           answer ]  Aha!  That's it!   
     TOM: Yeah!  Your problem isn't that this kid is getting the benefits of   
           a proper polytheriomorphic childhood.   
   [ JOEL skeptically mouths the word "polytheriomorphic." ]   
    CROW: You're just jealous that you never got to be anything other than a   
           poor little human.   
     TOM: Aw, Joel, why didn't you share your pain with us?   
    CROW: We'd have understood.   
    JOEL: Guys, it's not like that.  Humans aren't supposed to --   
    CROW: No, no, don't talk.   
     TOM: We love you no matter what you weren't in your past.   
    CROW: We'll help you through this.   
     TOM: You can hold us, if you like.   
      
   [ JOEL sighs, gives up, and hugs TOM and CROW. ]   
      
    JOEL: You guys are true friends.  Thank you.   
   MAGIC VOICE: Commercial sign in five seconds.  Cambot and I are here for   
           you too, Joel.   
    JOEL: Thanks, Magic Voice.  I'm sure Gypsy is too.   
      
   [ COMMERCIAL SIGN flashes.  JOEL taps it. ]   
      
   GYPSY: [ Calling from offstage ] You said it!   
    JOEL: We'll be right back.   
      
   [ COMMERCIAL BREAK ]   
      
   [ SOL DESK.  Zoobooks are scattered over the table.  JOEL, TOM, and CROW   
           are examining different pamphlets. ]   
      
    CROW: How about the rock hyrax?   
    JOEL: And what's a rock hyrax?   
    CROW: We can give you a weeklong tryout with it, maybe try a bush or   
           tree hyrax if you're not fully satisfied ...   
     TOM: I'm holding out for you as a woylie.  It's a cute little kangaroo   
           that feeds on roots, tubers, seeds, and legumes.  See the picture?   
    JOEL: Yeah, nice.  And what's the hyrax, Crow?   
    CROW: I... uh... have no idea.  But if you became one, then we'd know,   
           right?   
     TOM: Yeah, unless he got caught in the mouse traps.   
      
   [ MADS sign flashes ]   
      
    JOEL: Hang on, Loopy the Lion and Hardee Har Har are calling.   
      
   [ DEEP 13.  DR. FORRESTER has what looks like a plunger mounted on a   
           water gun; TV'S FRANK is in the background, wearing a bullseye   
           target and holding a SCOOBY-DOO T-shirt.  DR. FORRESTER is by   
           a table with considerable clutter on it.]   
      
    DR.F: Touche, turtle.  Our invention this week is based on beating back   
           the horde of lame would-be comedians who make incredibly trivial   
           comments about 'Scooby-Doo.'  It's a high-powered gun designed   
           to stop them.  It tracks certain characteristics of people who've   
           figured out they can approach being amusing by talking about this   
           overexposed show -- rising levels of unjustified smugness, a   
           clumsily jocular air around them, Scooby Snack Powder... who   
           needs details?  TV's Frank will demonstrate.   
   FRANK: [ Sheepish ] Now?   
    DR.F: No, Frank, next week.   
   FRANK: Oh.   
    DR.F: [ Growls, lowers the gun, riffles through the stuff on the desk,   
           making a mess and loud noise. ] NOW!   
   FRANK: OK, like, you notice how it's always the creepy old guy wearing a   
           dumb mask?  And how these kids don't have jobs or school or   
           parents or anything?  And was Shaggy stoned or what?   
      
   [ As FRANK talks, DR. F raises the gun and aims.  As FRANK finishes   
           talking, DR. F fires the gun, sending the plunger flying to the   
           bullseye.  FRANK, "impaled," begins a prolongued death scene   
           as BUGS BUNNY might do. ]   
      
    DR.F: A sharp, thin needle at the end of the plunger makes your   
           displeasure really stick.  [ He begins cackling, and suddenly   
           stops. ]  Over to you, Hokey.   
      
   [ SOL DESK.  The brouchures are cleared away; JOEL, TOM, and CROW all have   
           hefty instruction manuals.  TOM and CROW's are opened. ]   
      
    JOEL: Anyone who lives long enough, be he Hal Jordan, Ken Connell, Ralph   
           Hinkley, or Joel Robinson, will eventually be host to benevolent   
           aliens who grant one a ring, tatoo, suit, or some other token of   
           almost unlimited power to use for the good of humanity.   
    CROW: But will you know how to use it?   
     TOM: Great power carries with it great responsibility, and you must be   
           prepared to use that power efficiently and for the good of all.   
    JOEL: [ Showing off his book ] Which is why we've created the   
           nigh-omnipotent token's user's manual!   
     TOM: Indexed, cross-referenced and with a web site for newly discovered   
           twists, this guide will help any new superhero do his or her best   
           possible good.   
    CROW: See, here, 'Earth threatened by gigantic comets'...simply power up   
           and move the comets out of the way.   
     TOM: Whereas under 'City threatened by nuclear missiles'... use your   
           powers to turn the missiles into giant sticks of butter.   
    JOEL: Have to move your entire legion of friends in a hurry?  Fire up your   
           token and expand your hands, then fly them all there!   
    CROW: Keep your excessively large hands out of your line of sight, or   
           flight will become erratic.   
     TOM: What do you think, sirs?   
      
      
   [ DEEP 13.  FRANK is gasping, continuing the act.  DR. FORRESTER is at   
           the camera, sneering.  DR. FORRESTER makes quote marks with   
           his hands where appropriate. ]   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)