MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 By "Grand Poobah" (author of story unknown) |Satellite of Love| (TOM and CROW are standing there. Crow is hastily dressing Tom up like an alien from the "Aliens" movie series.) TOM: Now you're sure this will work? CROW: Of course it will, Tom. Just wait for Mike to show up to introduce the show, and when he sees you, just make a hissing noise! It'll be great! He'll wet his trousers and hide under the bed. TOM: Okay okay... hurry with the makeup, Crow! He's coming! (CROW quickly dresses TOM up, then ducks off camera and MIKE enters.) MIKE: Hi everyone, my name is Mike Nelson, and welcome to the Satellite of... (he casually glances over at TOM, who hisses on cue. Mike's eyes widen in fear.) Oh no! Gypsy, Tom, Crow, aliens have taken over the ship! (MIKE runs off camera. CROW comes out from his hiding spot, and he and Tom share a good laugh.) TOM: Ha ha, did you see meat-boy run? CROW: Yeah! His eyes were as big as dinner plates! TOM: Wait a minute... it looks like he's coming back... CROW: And he appears to be wearing some kind of apparatus... MIKE: (runs on, wielding a flame-thrower.) Get out of the way, Crow! CROW: Oh no! (dives out of the way, as Mike incinerates Tom with the flamethrower.) TOM: (screaming in agony) WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! CROW: (frantically trying to talk Mike down) Mike! Put down the flamethrower! It's only Tom! MIKE: (screaming as he lays on the liquid fire) Aaaaaaaaaaagh! TOM: Oh for the love of God! Stop him! CROW: Mike! (rears back and gives Mike a little slap, which brings Mike out of his trance... he continues to fry Tom, however.) MIKE: What? CROW: That's Tom, dressed up in an Alien costume! MIKE: Oh, I know. CROW: (confused)... oh, okay. MIKE: (goes back to his screaming) Aaaaaaaaaagh! |CASTLE FORRESTER| (PEARL, BOBO, and OBSERVER are lined up and watching this transpire. They are sharing a tub of buttered popcorn, and each have a soda.) PEARL: Wow, if they keep this up, I might just forego the experiment today! OBSERVER: Yes, this is much more entertaining than watching them squirm in the theater. BOBO: But Lawgiver... if Mike bakes the little gum-ball machine robot, you'll have one less captive to torture. PEARL: (considering it) He's a stinky fellow, but he has a point. Brain Guy! OBSERVER: (disappointed) Oh, very well. (concentrates) |SOL| (Suddenly, the flamethrower disappears. Mike and Crow look around, confused, while a black and charred, still smoking Tom stands there, coughing.) TOM: P... please... get me... some antiseptic... maybe a burn ointment... . |CASTLE FORRESTER| PEARL: Don't worry, Tom. The pain has just begun. Today's experiment is a moneky island fan-fic called 'The Elaine Marley Fanclub'. I was warned that this one was so horrible that it had to be tested on lab-rats before being viewed by anyone. And guess who my little lab-rats are. Brain Guy! Send the story! |SOL| (TOM is wrapped in a full body cast. MIKE leans over and starts to pick at him, but his hand is swatted away by CROW.) CROW: Mike! He'll never heal if you don't stop picking at him! (FAN-FIC SIGN!!!!) MIKE: Aaaaaaagh! Fan-Fic sign! (they run off into the theater.) (1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10) THE ELAINE MARLEY FANCLUB Early dawn, Melee Island: TOM: Just off the coast of Ass-Kick Cove. Tony Allason grunted, took another step, and hefted his backpack. CROW: You know, I heard if you can do all that at the same time, you have great coordination. MIKE: Kind of like patting your head and rubbing your stomach? CROW: Yeah. This section was a little steep. Of course, he knew that, had known it for a long time now. TOM: So why'd you tell us? Did you think we wanted to know? You had to watch your step on this part of the path. It was even more loosely defined than all that had come before: unstable, crumbling rocks underfoot could send you sprawling. And it was a long fall on either side. MIKE: Of course, the mats on either side sort of reduced the feeling of danger. The wind whipped at his legs; the horizon all around him was tangerine-edged blue. Then, finally, the rocks in front of him leveled off, forming a small rocky platform. CROW: Yo Adrian! MIKE: Wrong kind of rocky, Crow. As he always did, Tony stopped and paused for breath. TOM: He always did that? Then, again as he always did, he moved to the right and looked down. There. The Governor's Mansion. *Elaine's* Mansion. MIKE: He's done his research, hasn't he? Tony smiled. There were other pirates here. Parts of the rocky platform were worn smooth from many years of being sat on. CROW: Oh... so, by many years, he actually meant 300 BILLION YEARS?!! A few odds and ends were scattered across the platform - hooks, peglegs, cracked china mugs. TOM: Discarded pizza boxes, outdated copies of "Newsweek", an empty bag of "Ruffles"... There was even a small plaque, carved on wood and set in a block of stone near the lip of the platform. It said: THE ELAINE MARLEY FANCLUB MIKE: Yeah, I've been to one of their conventions before. Everyone dresses up like Klingons or Vulcans and keep making that "Live long and prosper" gesture. TOM: That's a "Star Trek" convention, Mike. Every one of the pirates waiting here held a telescope or a pair of binoculars. This was the shrine of the Elaine watchers. CROW: The Elaine Watchers- a group of religious extremists famous for looking at pirate-women through binoculars... It was a little strange that one woman could attract so much attention: after all, there *were* other women on the island, TOM: Sure, they were all horrid man-beasts, but they were still there... ... as imbalanced as the male/female ratio was. And indeed, Elaine's beauty and charisma only partly accounted for the attention. MIKE: And we all know how interested pirates are in women who speak their minds... What really made the difference was her hair. TOM: So, she walks around the house naked a lot, huh? MIKE: Tom! This is a family show! That fiery red, wavy, bountiful, flowing-down-to-the-shoulders-and-then-some head of hair. You could see it from a mile away. CROW: I guess she saves a lot of money on bike-reflectors. To the Melee Island pirates, it called to mind red skies at night, and flaming beacons on the shore. It stirred thoughts of passion, romance, and wistful nostalgia. TOM: And dirty, dirty sex. MIKE: Tom! Do you need to go to your room again? Elaine's hair roused their hearts. TOM: Heh heh... and their- MIKE: Alright, that's enough. Most Melee Island pirates made the pilgrimage up here to gaze down on Elaine's mansion sometime in their life. TOM: They're all a bunch of peeping-me's! It was almost a coming-of-age ritual. There were only five pirates waiting here now. There weren't many hard-core Elaine watchers, Tony reflected, but they were *dedicated*. CROW: Psh! Elaine-watching is such a spectators sport! Heck, Old Lemmy here had been coming up for ten years, and he'd been blind the last two. Tony found his usual spot, set down his backpack, and pulled out a pair of binoculars. "Anything happened yet?" he asked. MIKE: (James the Fierce) Yeah, she walked from her bedroom to the kitchen. We watched it a few times on instant replay. James the Fierce, currently squinting through an oily brass telescope, shook his head. He was a tall, bearded man with huge tattooed biceps. "Nah, nothing yet. Guybrush is up." He took a swig of grog from his thermos. There were general groans at the mention of Guybrush's name. "We'll be lucky to get five minutes in," said Oscar. ALL: In what? Some of the older regulars often complained that you couldn't see as much of Elaine as you used to. CROW: Ever since she became Muslim and had to wear a tent over her head all the time... And indeed security had been tightened around the mansion: first of all with the killer poodles, and then somewhat more successfully with the trained dobermans. MIKE: Surprisingly enough, it's hard to get a good "killer poodle" security system anymore. The best they can do is flying attack badgers. It used to be that you could even get into Elaine's mansion. Scott of the Bahamas had a pillowslip he said came from Elaine's bedroom. Old Lemmy kept a toothbrush from her bathroom. CROW: This is what people did before the internet. Not that Tony wanted any of these strange mementos. He just wanted a lock of her hair. TOM: (Tony) Sheesh! Going through a girls drawers, taking her toothbrush, that's just sick. But sneaking in and chopping off a chunk of her hair while she's asleep... that's healthy and natural, right? That blazing red, burnished vermilion hair. He'd painted his house with the closest approximation he could find, but it just wasn't the same. When he closed his eyes it flashed before him in the dark. He caught a flash of red down below. "She's up!" cried Tony. "Kitchen!" There was a flurry of activity around him. "Awright!" said somebody. Tony put his binoculars to his eyes and focused on the kitchen window. Time to see what was happening in the Mansion... ALL: Bum bum BUMMMMMMM! Guybrush was just finishing the paper when Elaine entered the kitchen. "Morning Guybrush," she said, kissing him on the forehead. MIKE: So- Guybrush and Elaine have a Brady-Bunch relationship. "What are we having for breakfast?" CROW: (Guybrush) The neighbors. Guybrush looked down at his own half-eaten portion. "Scrambled eggs, fried fish and toast. I don't think the cook knows how to do anything else." "It's always done me," said Elaine, TOM: Whoa! Whoa! Where were the censors on that one?! ... chewing down a mouthful of egg. "Healthy stuff. Pass the paper." Guybrush handed it over. The Melee Chronicle, since 1612. Every issue had an illustration of Elaine on the front cover. She used to appear on page three as well, but that was one thing Guybrush had put a stop to. "See the story about those refugees from Cuirass Island?" he said. Two days ago, Skar Island had sacked and pillaged the smaller adjoining island of Cuirass. MIKE: No one on Cuirass Island seemed to notice. It was the third such attack in six months. Yesterday, a group of twenty refugees had arrived in Melee Harbor in a leaking, dilapidated wreck. Stan bought it from them not soon after, but otherwise they were completely penniless. CROW: But on the up side, they know all the words to the old "There once was a man from Nantucket" limerick. "Yeah, there was a deputation here last night about that," said Elaine. "They wanted to know where we could house them. Frankly, there really isn't anywhere. We're still trying to find shelter for that group from Lime Island. So I put them in the jail for the night." TOM: (Butler) Lady Elaine, we have some visitors. CROW: (Elaine) Throw them in the dungeon. "The jail?!" said Guybrush. "Hey, it's better than most of the accommodation in this town," said Elaine. "Warm. Well illuminated. Sturdy. Lots of food." MIKE: And a friendly staff that's always ready to serve. "And lots of rats," added Guybrush. "That's what I meant," said Elaine. Seeing Guybrush's expression, she quickly added, "Joke, okay?" Guybrush stifled a laugh. "Okay. But we've got to help them somehow." "I know we do," said Elaine. "If we show support for the refugees the rest of the Caribbean will unite with us against Skar. But we just don't have the money right now." TOM: (Elaine) I'm spending it all on me-things! Light suddenly glinted in Guybrush's eye. He looked up out of the window and saw flashes of light on the peak above. Guybrush ground his teeth. Those weirdoes again. It didn't matter how long he'd been here, he still couldn't get used to being constantly the center of attention. How Elaine coped with it, he had no idea. He stood up and crossed to the window. He was bringing the curtains closed when Elaine said, "Hang on, what are you doing? Leave those open! You know I like a nice view in the morning." Guybrush looked at her, sighed, and pulled the curtains open again. "It's those guys," he said, coming back to the table. "On the mountain." Elaine giggled. "You mean the Fanclub? They're harmless. Ignore them." CROW: You know, she has a point. All they do is break into the house when no one's around and root through all of Elaine's personal items. Nothing to worry about there. Guybrush struggled with himself. How to say what he truly felt? TOM: Like this- NNNNNNNGGAAAH! "It's... not that," he said. "I mean, I married you and I'm the luckiest guy in the world, I know that. MIKE: (Guybrush) But can't we sleep in the same bed at least one night of the week? But sometimes I'm walking down the street with you and every guy I see is staring at you like you're water in a desert, and then I don't feel so lucky. Do you understand?" CROW: We do! Can we go? Elaine looked at him. "You're not jealous, are you?" she teased. "Not really, it's just... I wish you weren't so damn attractive!" Elaine rocked back with laughter, making the table shake. "Oh dear," she said, wiping her eyes. "From a husband, that's gotta be a first." The next few minutes passed in silence. Elaine read the paper, still chuckling. Guybrush, on the other hand, was seething. There were sixteen islands in the Caribbean with a substantial population. TOM: Substantial meaning "more than seven". Skar controlled four. Elaine, via the Tri-Island pact, controlled three - admittedly, the three largest. Nine islands were ostensibly neutral. Currently they favored the Tri-Island pact, but if Elaine was shown to be unsympathetic to refugees, that could quickly change. And this constant scrutiny! The fact that he wasn't the object of it didn't lessen his anger any. How dare they spy on her! Elaine was *his* wife. Surely they could have some privacy. If only she wasn't so damn attractive... And then, like a gift from the gods, came the answer. MIKE: Plastic surgery? *What if Elaine Marley shaved her head?* Guybrush knew of the almost iconic stature of Elaine's hair amongst the general populace - you only had to read a few issues of The Melee Chronicle to work that out. CROW: Articles like "How Elaine is wearing her hair the season" and "Win the Battle of the Bangs- with Elaine's easy 10-step plan!" kind of gave it away. If she cut off her hair, then she'd cease to be the mythical Helen of Melee whose hair launched a thousand ships, and instead be just another woman on Melee who also happened to be Governor. They might even get some peace around here. *This could really work.* TOM: That's what Napoleon said. Guybrush cleared his throat. "Uh, Elaine... just to change the subject completely... I had an idea on how we could raise some money." CROW: (Guybrush) You're not against prostitution, right? "Sure, let's hear it." "You shave your head," said Guybrush. Elaine looked at him, puzzled. "What?" "Do it in public. Charge admission. Every pirate on Melee is going to want to be there - well, every male pirate, at least, and if we set the price right we could make a killing!" MIKE: (Guybrush) Let's see... eleven eighty-five, eleven ninety, ... twelve dollars! Flat line!!!! Elaine smiled at him, a little uncertainly. "You really think people will pay to see me get my head shaved?" "Pay? They'll be scalping tickets outside! ...uh, pardon the pun." TOM: I'm not pardoning that pun. "You know, that's not a bad idea," said Elaine thoughtfully. "It'd certainly be interesting." "It sure would," said Guybrush, smiling. (10...9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1) |SOL| (TOM and CROW are sitting there, talking.) TOM: I'm telling you, Crow, we'd make a killing! Do you know how much money we'd make? And just think of what would come afterwards! CROW: Yeah... movie rights... T-shirts... action figures... (MIKE enters.) TOM: Oh, hi Mike. MIKE: Tom, Crow... what are you two cooking up this time? CROW: Mike! I'm shocked! How could you possibly think that we'd ever plan a maniacal scheme to cut off your hair and sell videotapes of it on eBAY? MIKE: Yeah, I guess you're... wait a minute. What? TOM: Oh, come on, Mike! It's a great idea! You know how the Satellite has been low on funds recently! This could boost revenue 50%! MIKE: You really think people would pay that much to see my head get shaved? CROW: Please, Mike, they'll practically be breaking down our doors for an advance copy. And if it's a huge success, the sequel practically writes itself. TOM: Or better yet- "Mike's Head Gets Shaved: The Director's Cut"... no pun intended, of course. MIKE: (heaving a sigh) Okay, if you guys think it'll help... CROW: Excellent, Nelson! Now, sit down. (MIKE sits down as TOM produces an old razor.) MIKE: You two... know what you're doing, right? TOM: Please, Mike, I graduated from the Wichita Indian School of Hairdressing... you're in good hands. MIKE: Oh, all right... wait a minute! Didn't the Wichitas scalp people? CROW: (readying a video-camera) Try to relax, Mike. Find a happy place. (MIKE closes his eyes as TOM raises the blade. He shears off a strip of MIKE's hair. Then another. And finally, MIKE's head is totally shaved.) TOM: There, done. MIKE: (feeling his head) Well... not so bad, I guess... did you get it all on tape, Crow? CROW: Yep! Right here... oh no. Heh, silly me! I forgot to put a tape in. MIKE: You WHAT?! CROW: Wow! Boy, is my face red! MIKE: YOU MEAN I SHAVED MY HEAD FOR NOTHING?!! TOM: Technically, Mike, I shaved your head. (Fan-Fic Sign starts up.) MIKE: We'll talk about this later... (1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10) The posters went up that afternoon. "THE SPECTACLE OF A LIFETIME!!" they announced in very big type. "ELAINE MARLEY SHAVES HER HEAD! ONCE ONLY!" TOM: Yes, I can imagine an encore performance would be difficult. In slightly smaller type, "Admission 30 pieces of eight." They caused an immediate stir. Pirates crowded around the posters, gabbling excitedly to each other. "Wonder what she looks like under all that hair!" said one. "She's probably bald!" replied another. CROW: (unsure) Um, Mike? We were supposed to laugh there, right? MIKE: I think so. CROW: Oh. Heh... heh heh... it's just not coming, Mike! My sense of humor is broken! MIKE: I think it's working just fine. Heated discussions began, as some of the older pirates began mentioning the names Samson and Delilah. The more self-important pirates wondered how this might affect the Tri-Island pact's image. TOM: (Tri-Island pact Spokesperson) Bald people are so not cool! None, however, were as distraught as Tony. When he first saw the posters, it was like somebody had stuck an ice pick through his chest. The hair... she was going to cut the hair?!? CROW: Well, it was either that or cut off a finger. *What???* The first thing he did was pick up a copy of The Melee Chronicle. Freshly printed only an hour ago, it was twice as long as usual, MIKE: That's right. Four whole pages. and stuffed full of Elaine pictures. There were a couple of speculative pictures of Elaine without her hair - Tony could hardly bear to glance at them. Next, he went to the Scumm Bar to pick up a ticket. TOM: Then he went to Pestilence Peak and put it back down. There was a sizeable queue inside. "Selling like hotcakes," said the publican, eagerly snatching Tony's money. Clutching his ticket, Tony walked hurriedly home. He went to his bedroom, stared at the rouge wallpaper, wept and thought. MIKE: About giving generously to the United Way. Two days later, the fateful day finally dawned. Every exit from the Melee Town Square was blocked off by guards in ticket booths. In the square itself, row after row of wooden bleachers had been set up, ringing the square almost completely. CROW: And I hear they have a great half-time show planned. The pirates arrived early. By nine o'clock, the bleachers were packed with bleary-eyed pirates, unused to consciousness at this particular hour. And though it was now standing-room only, the pirates continued to pour in. TOM: From that big water-pitcher in the sky... Not only Melee Island pirates: the public head shaving had drawn Elaine-admirers from all corners of the Caribbean. It seemed like everyone was in town today. MIKE: Except for everyone who's names began with the letters D through W. Now, right at the centre of the square, there remained just the tiniest circle of cobblestones, and a narrow aisle connecting it to the nearest exit. At ten o'clock, two trumpets bugled. Immediately, a hush fell over the pirates. CROW: And I'm just sure those pirates didn't help it get back up! TOM: They're so rude. Every head in the square turned to the head of the open aisle. The booth was gone; the guards were gone. Standing there instead were Elaine Marley and Guybrush Threepwood. An enormous roar went up. Elaine and Guybrush slowly walked down the aisle, side by side, Elaine smiling, Guybrush looking at the masses of fierce pirates pressing in on all sides and smiling a little more nervously. The pirates were jumping up and down and shaking their fits and hitting each other and throwing things in the air. But something, a respectful worship of the Governor so intense it was like a force field, kept them in place. CROW: It was probably just the fly-paper Guybrush put down earlier. Guybrush swallowed. MIKE: You know, that's service you just don't get from other authors. TOM: (Author of Story) Guybrush breathed. CROW: (Author of Story) Guybrush flared his nostrils. This was perhaps not the perfect venue to mess around with Elaine's totemic status. Once the hair was off, who knew how this crowd might behave. TOM: (Random Pirate) Look! Last hair is gone! CROW: (Other Random Pirate) Now Fanclub SMASH! They mightn't get out of here alive, he reflected gloomily. He and Elaine had now come quite a way into the town square, and the crowd could see the parade behind them. First came two guards, carrying a heavy barbershop chair. Behind them were the three members of the Barbershop Quartet TOM: There are four members in a barbershop quartet. That's why it's called a "quartet". MIKE: I think it was a joke. CROW: Oh... do you mean a good joke or a Monkey Island joke? MIKE: A Monkey Island joke, I'm afraid. ... joking and laughing and generally having a fine old time. Lastly, and this figure was so short few people actually saw him, came a man holding a sack and a broom. ALL: (singing) Oompa loompa doompity dah... . Guybrush and Elaine stopped in the centre of the circle. Behind them, the guards set down the chair with a rather audible 'clunk'. The crowd once more grew silent. TOM: Silent requires lots of moisture and sunlight to grow. MIKE: And it tastes great in soup! Edward Van Helgen came forward. "Greetings, esteemed Melee Island pirates, Tri-Island visitors, and distinguished guests. CROW: (Edward) Oh... and you too, Bernie. You are privileged to be here today at this most singular of events, as Elaine Marley sheds her hair!" Elaine stepped forward and bowed to the crowd, who went wild. She turned, bowing and bobbing again, playing up to them, enjoying the moment. Then she stood, walked to the barber chair and sat down. TOM: (slow, lethargic) Oh. This... is... too... intense. As Haggis McMutton took a pair of scissors and stood behind the chair, the crowd immediately quietened down to an expectant hush. Haggis snipped once, and a great clump of bright red hair fell to the cobblestones. The public shaving had begun. MIKE: But they're not shaving it. They're snipping it. CROW: You don't suppose the author is would waste time describing the haircut, would they? Haggis worked with quiet professionalism, his beefy arms smooth and steady. MIKE: They would. The small man with the broom darted around his feet, sweeping the hair into his sack as it fell. Edward Van Helgen and Cutthroat Bill, looking a most unusual duo, stood to one side and sang piratey tunes. TOM: Like "My Heart Will Go On". Guybrush stood on his own, looking around and smiling uneasily. The crowd, on the other hand, were almost completely still - at first. They sat, or stood, and stared as Elaine's hair slowly began to disappear. Already her face was changed somewhat, without the red halo of hair that usually framed it. CROW: She was turning into Rick Moranis! Her chin was more rounded, her ears more visible. CROW: Nevermind. Robin Williams. Some of the pirates got the strangest idea that Elaine was turning into an entirely different person. The noise level began to build. MIKE: Build what? Mutterings turned to shouts and exclamations. The crowd cheered; or cried. It cheered and cried. There was flurried motion at the back. Haggis made one final cut and set down the scissors, momentarily leaving Elaine's head fully in view. What the pirates saw shocked them: TOM: Nude pictures of Joan London. MIKE: Ghaaaa! Yuck! a crew-cut, flame-headed female pirate fierce and unyielding. But before the image had time to sink in, Haggis was lathering her head with shaving cream. He took the razor and began on phase two. If anything, the tension continued to rise. Before, they'd at least been able to see each strand of hair as it fell to ground. Now, with Haggis working behind a barrier of cream, absolutely anything could be happening. CROW: She could be growing mushrooms. TOM: He could be misplacing his car keys! CROW: She could be blaming all her problems on the Germans! TOM: He could inadvertently be triggering an inner-stellar war with the Mole People from Planet X! MIKE: I think that one's a bit of a stretch. As if to compensate for the lack of visual activity, the pirates grew yet louder CROW: Yet-louder also takes a lot of moisture, but less sunlight than silent. MIKE: Okay, I think that jokes run it's course. ... shouting semi-articulate sentences to Elaine (some of them marriage proposals, which irked Guybrush somewhat) and bellowing in each other's ears. A few fights were breaking out. CROW: They should cleanse their skin more often. Haggis was unaffected by all this. He scraped away the last of the cream, took a wet cloth, and rubbed her head clean. TOM: Squeak squeak squeak! With a flourish, he whipped the cloth off and stood back. "Done!" he shouted. Every pirate in the square stopped and stared. To say Elaine looked unusual would have been an understatement. These were pirates that had never bought a Sinead O'Conner CD, never been to see G.I. Jane. CROW: They had Sinead O'Conner CD's back then? And GI Jane? MIKE: No... another Monkey Island joke. CROW: Oh. Some of them rarely saw women full stop. There was nothing to which this bald-headed figure now before them could be compared. A dreadful silence fell. TOM: I swear, those silences have no damn balance! Elaine Marley stood. The pirates seemed to take this as a cue of some kind, and shouted. There were cheers, boos, wolf-whistles and drunken hollerings. MIKE: (Drunken Pirate) Ssssay there, baby... that'sssss a purty little... . haaaaircut... En masse, it sounded like "AAARGH!!" Elaine slowly turned, showing her gleaming head from all angles. The pirates went into a frenzy. Flying objects filled the air. One of the bleachers cracked, sending excited pirates tumbling into the standing masses in front of them. There were screams and shouts and insane laughter. This was more than enough for Guybrush. "Time to go!" he shouted into Elaine's ear, taking her firmly by the elbow. The Barbershop Quartet... CROW: Of only three people... ... quick on the uptake, began marching swiftly back up the aisle, clearing a path for Elaine with fists and some menacingly waved barber tools. They ran through the open exit, which was immediately blocked by eight glaring guards. Behind them was a scene of utter chaos. Two more bleachers had disintegrated, leaving behind broken wood and the moans of the newly injured. Pirates surged into the center circle. One enormous tattoo-covered pirate was crying uncontrollably, one hand clutching what might have been a lock of hair, or bloodstained straw. TOM: Bloodstained straw. Eventually, though, the pirates began to calm down. Someone shouted that they were headed to the bar to get drunk, and this sounded like a good idea to everyone else, so they all (barring the injured) ran like a mob of idiots down to the pier and poured into the Scumm Bar. All of them, that is, except for Tony Allason. CROW: No.. Tony did something far more sinister... He'd had a somewhat different perspective on the whole event. While everyone else had been watching Elaine with eagle eyes, once the hair began to fall Tony had lost interest. He'd been watching the small guy with the broom instead. MIKE: And I instantly need therapy. He watched as he swept the cobblestones. He saw each hair as it was bundled into the sack. He saw it bulge as the contents expanded. He could hardly breathe for imagining all the hair inside. And when Elaine and the rest of the party ran for it, Tony knew immediately what he had to do. TOM: He had to buy a French sofa. As the other pirates poured down the street toward the Scumm Bar, Tony ran the opposite way. There was an alleyway on the far wall, just next to the Rubber-Chicken-With-A-Pulley-In-The-Middle shop CROW: I hear there's a lot of demand for rubber-chickens with pulleys inside of them on Melee Island. ... and little dead-end alleyway nobody used. Tony darted inside. Here the walls were strewn with rusting iron pipes, disused railings and balconies for rooms that no longer existed. Tony grabbed the nearest iron pipe MIKE: (A Stoner) And began to toke up! Wa-hoooo! and began to climb. It was tough, almost suicidal work. Twice iron pipes broke in his grasp and Tony had to wildly grab for something to stop an almost fatal fall. TOM: Even though he was less than 10 feet high. Anyone else would have given up long ago, but Tony was seized by an almost irresistible impulse: *get that hair.* CROW: ..a nice fruit basket. (10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1) |SOL| (MIKE is standing there, his head wrapped in a turban, drumming his fingers. TOM and CROW enter.) TOM: Oh hi, Mike! MIKE: Go away. CROW: Now Mike, I know you're probably a little angry with us because we duped you into shaving your head... TOM: ... but you have to look at the good in this situation! MIKE: Good? What possible good can come from this situation?! CROW: We get to call you Chrome Dome for the next couple of weeks! (TOM and CROW burst out laughing, and the vein in MIKE's head starts pulsing.) TOM: All jokes aside, I'm sure it doesn't look that bad, Mike. MIKE: Really? CROW: Why, of course! Baldness is in fashion in this day and age. MIKE: Yeah, I guess so... TOM: So why don't you take off that turban and be proud of your scalp! MIKE: (inspired) Yeah! You're right! I'm not going to hide it anymore! (pulls off the turban) (TOM and CROW merely stare at his bald head for a few moments, then burst out laughing.) MIKE: (angry) Oh great, and now Pearl's calling. |CASTLE FORRESTER| (OBSERVER is there.) OBSERVER: Tom, Crow... what is Patrick Stewart doing on board the satellite? |SOL| TOM: (still laughing) No, it's... heh heh... it's MIKE! |CASTLE FORRESTER| OBSERVER: Why, so it is! (PEARL walks in.) PEARL: So, my little Nel-Bell, how's the experiment go-oh my god! What in God's name did you do to your head?! |SOL| MIKE: Okay, okay, laugh it up, everyone... |CASTLE FORRESTER| (OBSERVER and PEARL are laughing just as hard as TOM and CROW) PEARL: He looks like polished door knob! OBSERVER: Don't look directly at him- the glare might blind you! |SOL| (Everyone around him is laughing hysterically. The cam-bot zooms in on Mike's face.) MIKE: This sucks. (FAN-FIC sign) ALL: Aaaagh! Fan-Fic sign!!! (1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10) Two minutes later, he reached the rooftops. Here the roofs were tiled, gently tilted. He ran across the rooftops, headed for where he'd last seen Elaine. He reached the spot, and looked down. Nothing. TOM: Well, I mean, the ground and stuff was there... He craned his head along the street. There was a group of people at the far end... were they... yes! CROW: Wait... no! Hang on a minute... yes! No! Yes! AAAAAGH! One of them was bald. Strange how hard Elaine was to recognize without her hair. Tony began to give chase. MIKE: But they already had enough, so they gave it back. Running full tilt, jumping wide gaps without the slightest hesitation, paying not the slightest attention to the long falls on either side: it was just like the pathway to the Elaine Marley Fanclub. Soon he was almost directly above them. At which point something strange happened. TOM: The penguins went awry. The short man carrying the sack - the broom had been discarded at some stage - was bringing up the rear of the group. Now, he suddenly darted down a side road. The Barbershop Quartet, Elaine and Guybrush were headed toward the Mansion; the short guy looked to be making his way toward the docks. Tony hesitated at the corner. Should he follow Elaine, or... It was no choice really. Follow the sack. TOM: I'd much rather follow the story of all the drunkards at the bar than either of the two options they just gave me. MIKE: Wouldn't we all, Tom. Wouldn't we all. Tailing him discreetly from above, Tony saw the short man run out onto the nearly deserted docks. Not far away, he could hear the drunken yells coming from the Scumm Bar. The short man ran along the pier, past pirate ships squashed in together like sardines, then suddenly ran up the gangplank and disappeared onto a ship. Tony looked at the ship. No bigger or smaller than the other ships, it had almost no distinguishing markings, save for a scarlet sail on the mizzenmast. CROW: Oh, and it also had "Captain Blue-Beard was here" spray-painted on the side. What it did have, most unusually for a pirate ship, was armored guards. Two of them, swords in hand, stopped the man at a doorway. Tony crouched and listened, but couldn't hear what they were saying. The guards stood back and motioned the man inside. Tony waited, staring at the ship for several minutes. There was no more activity. Now why had this man taken Elaine's hair? MIKE: That's a pretty redundant question, considering Tony's already pursued him about four miles just to get a lock of it. Who needed armoured guards on a pirate ship? CROW: The Pope? And when was he, Tony, going to get his hands on that sack? These were all big questions. CROW: Please tell me that was just more Monkey Island humor, Mike. MIKE: I'm afraid not, Crow. The author seriously thought those were big questions. One thing was for sure - he couldn't do anything on his own. Tony started looking around for a way down to the ground. It was time to enlist the help of the Fanclub. MIKE: With the brotherhood that the Fanclub shares, it's a shock to see there hasn't been at least two "Made For TV" movies on this story. The sound of two people breathing heavily. TOM: ... was not enough to drown out this awful, awful story. "Look, you can stop touching my head now." "But it feels so weird!" CROW: This conversation brought to you be the Awkward Teen Years of America. MIKE: Crow!!! The front door of Melee Island's mansion opened, and Elaine and Guybrush staggered inside, Guybrush still reaching up to touch Elaine's fuzzy bald scalp. "Boy," said Guybrush, "that hill sure takes it out of you." TOM: (Elaine) What hill? "Especially when you're running most of the way." Behind them, the Barbershop Quartet entered the mansion. Elaine straightened up and kissed them all on the cheek. "Thanks very much for coming at such short notice," she said. CROW: (Elaine) But now you're scaring me. Get out. "I think it worked out very well in the end." "Anything for a friend," said Cutthroat Bill. MIKE: Cutthroat Bill is not the best name for a barber. "Anyway, I had the cook whip something up," said Elaine. TOM: How? They just walked in. CROW: Plot hole!!! "So we should be able to have lunch in half an hour or so." A thought struck her. "And who was that short guy you got to do the sweeping up? I suppose he can join us." Silence. MIKE: After this story, silence is like a 10 week vacation to Disney World with the Swedish Bikini team as your room-mates. "Say, where *is* that guy?" said Guybrush. "Wasn't he following you guys?" CROW: (Cutthroat Bill) Uh... I got hungry on the way up. The Barbershop Quartet looked at each other. "We haven't seen him since we left the square," said Haggis. "Maybe he was detained in the crowd," mused Edward Van Helgen. "We don't actually know him," said Cutthroat Bill. "The guy approached us on the docks, asked if we were doing the snip job on the Governor, and offered to help. We were happy because it freed up one of us to do the singing." TOM: (sarcastically) And we all know having a Barbershop Quartet with just two people is simply ridiculous... "Look," said Elaine, "I don't want to sound unreasonable or anything, CROW: (Elaine) ... but I want all of you to beat each other up for my entertainment. ... but that hair is sort of important. MIKE: (Elaine) With that hair, I could rule the world! Could you, Haggis and Edward try and find this guy for me?" "Sure thing, Governor!" said Bill. "And one more thing: don't tell anybody about this," said Elaine. TOM: If she was trying to keep the fact that she shaved her head a secret, she went about it the wrong way. "Not a soul," said Haggis. The three barbers immediately turned and pelted away. "It's not really worth getting worked up over, Elaine, is it?" said Guybrush. "After all it's just a sack of hair." "Just a sack of hair?!" said Elaine. "Look, we may have come out ahead on the whole admission thing, but that hair's where the real money lies. We could make hundreds of pieces of eight for just one lock!" CROW: Well, somebody sure is big-headed. Guybrush shook his head. And to think he'd thought he had a more cunning business mind than Elaine's. "You'd actually sell your hair?" he said. TOM: Yeah! Even we're not that low! CROW: I don't know, Tom... we might be able to make a bundle selling Meat Boy's hair... MIKE: Don't even think about it. "Sure. Why not? I can guarantee you *he* will be. Which means time is of the essence." CROW: For the love of Pete- it's a sack of hair, not the Holy Grail! Guybrush sighed. "I get it. Back to Melee township, right?" "Right." Tony Allason found James the Fierce outside his house, sitting in a chair and smiling for all the world to see. "Tony!" he shouted as he saw Tony. "Guess what I've got!" He sprang up and thrust something into Tony's face. "A lock of Elaine's hair!" "Huh?" Tony took the lock from James's hand and looked at it. "Some shifty guy in a trenchcoat was selling them on the corner of the street. Real cheap prices, too." "James - this isn't real," said Tony. "It's just ordinary hair that's been painted red. The paint isn't even dry yet!" He showed James the thin lines of red paint on his hand. MIKE: (Tony) No, wait... it's just my tapeworm acting up again. "Oh," said James the Fierce, crestfallen. "And he said it was genuine, too." "Never mind that," said Tony. "I've got something very important-" At this point a pirate came running up the street. "Hey!" he shouted at them. "Haven't you heard? Some short guy's gone and stolen Elaine's hair. And there's only one short guy around these parts. Everyone's off to teach him a lesson!" TOM: Wow, they're going to lynch Danny De-Vito. He ran off. James the Fierce would have run off after him, but Tony grabbed his arm. "James," he said urgently. "Listen. I saw the short guy steal the sack of hair. I know where he is. But I'm going to need your help, and everyone else's in the Fanclub." James the Fierce went crosseyed CROW: (hopeful) ... and fell over dead? ... a sure sign he was thinking something over. "Wait here," he said, then dashed inside. Moments later he dashed out again, carrying a four-foot-tall painted wooden carving of Elaine. Tony was taken aback. "Wow," he said. "you never told me you had anything like this." "I only use it for emergencies," said James the Fierce, setting the carving down on the street. TOM: (screaming mother) Oh no! My babies are caught in that fire! MIKE: (James the Fierce) Don't worry, ma'am! I've got my statuette of the mayor! CROW: (random woman) My hero! "Now all we have to do is wait." Sure enough, barely twenty seconds later Scott of the Bahamas had turned up to gawk at the statue. Old Lemmy followed shortly after. Soon all five Fanclub members were there, gawking soundlessly at the carving. MIKE: Wasn't Old Lemmy blind? Tony was the first to snap out of it. "Guys!" he said. And he told them the story of how he'd trailed the short guy to the docks, and about the heavily guarded ship he'd boarded. The other Fanclub members listened, first with rapt attention, then with growing outrage. "Bleedin' bastards!" Scott of the Bahamas said. TOM: "I agree!" cried Ernie of Istanbul. "So it's up to us now," said Tony. "We might not be the fiercest pirates - sorry, James the Fierce excepted - but we're sure as hell dedicated. And if Elaine can't count on us, who can she count on?" CROW: An old piece of toast? TOM: Hey, it'd probably be even better to count on that. "Yeah!" shouted the Fanclub. "So I want all of you to head home, load up on weaponry, and meet me at the docks in ten minutes. Let's go get that hair!" "Yeah!" TOM: (worried) Well, there goes. MIKE: What? TOM: My fragile grip on sanity. I've lost it. MIKE: Lost it? TOM: As soon as they started prattling on about how they're going to load up on weapons to liberate some old hair... it's gone, Mike. My sanity is all gone. MIKE: No! We've got to stay strong! Stay with me! CROW: I'm inclined to agree with him, Mike. Let's just face it- this story has broken us. MIKE: No! I'm not going to give in! I'm going to fight! TOM: No point, Mike. It's just a matter of time. You'll be sitting there, secure in your delusions of grandeur, when all of a sudden the story will start talking about how Elaine's hair is the secret to happiness. Then you'll be broken, too, Mike. You'll be broken too. It wasn't a very long walk from the Mansion down to the township, and Guybrush was trying unsuccessfully to use the time to get a conversation going with Elaine. MIKE: (Guybrush) So, uh... CROW: (Elaine) Shut up, loser. "The way I see it," he continued, "merchandising bits of yourself off is only going to encourage these guys. It's not healthy! You're not just a figurehead to these pirates. You're an individual. You've got your own life to lead. Stop trying to give these pirates the impression that you're an integral part of their lives: sooner or later they'll start believing it. And then things could get ugly." He paused, giving Elaine a chance to respond. She didn't. TOM: Good. CROW: She'd only say something stupid anyway. "So maybe this theft is a blessing in disguise. Maybe it's an omen. Perhaps we should just head back home and forget about it!" MIKE: That's the first good idea I've heard all day. Still nothing from Elaine. Guybrush gave up. "So, where are we going?" he asked. "I thought we might pay Wally a visit," said Elaine. "Why... ahh." They were now in the township itself, and it was completely deserted. Or at least this section was. Yet, not too far off, they could hear the drunken yells and violent noises of a large angry mob. "That sounds like it's coming from the square," said Guybrush. They rounded a few corners, and sure enough, a large violent group of pirates had gathered. Certainly they seemed irate about something - they were hurling themselves at each other, hitting the walls with iron bars, and snarling and cursing. TOM: News of the cancellation of MST 3K hits Melee Island. The object of their ire appeared to be the Rubber-Chicken-With-A-Pulley-In-The-Middle shop. Unfortunately for the pirates, their attacks were having little effect. The Rubber-Chicken-With-A-Pulley-In-The-Middle shop had only one narrow door (which was securely bolted), no windows, and no other apparent means of entry. The frustrated pirates were making a dent on just about everything else in the vicinity, but the RCWAPITM shop remained unharmed. Guybrush and Elaine, standing on the edge of the square, watched with alarm. "They must be after Wally," said Guybrush. "We've got to stop them!" CROW: (Guybrush) Uh... why? "'Not a soul!'" Elaine said sarcastically. "When I see Haggis again..." She walked toward the mob. When the first pirates turned and saw her, she shouted. "STOP!" MIKE: The pirates, in unison, turned and shouted "NO!" Her clear, unmistakable voice cut through the noise. Silence fell as the pirates turned toward her. Some of them looked sheepish. "You've been misinformed," said Elaine. "The thief who stole my hair isn't short. He's medium-sized, overweight, bald, has a pegleg, a scar across his chest and a recurring facial tic. TOM: Rush Limbaugh stole the hair?! So go get him." The pirates stayed where they were, staring doubtfully at Elaine. Elaine got cross. "Well, go on! What are you waiting for?" The first pirates started to move, still turning back every now and then to look at Elaine's bald head. The other followed. As they got further they began to pick up the pace, and by the time they were out of the square they were running, excited and hollering. Guybrush joined Elaine's side. "That description you gave them sounded a lot like Bald Meels." "Yeah, well, it was about time I did something about him," said Elaine. "I don't like the way they hung around there. Like they didn't respect my authority quite so much. You know, Guybrush, maybe getting my head shaved wasn't such a good idea after all." "I'm starting to think the same thing," said Guybrush. They stood in front of the RCWAPITM shop door. Like before, it was locked, but unlike the pirates, Guybrush and Elaine knew the key was hidden inside a hollow brick. They retrieved the key and opened the door. Inside, the store was dark and cool. Rubber chickens hung from the ceiling. The air smelled of oil. CROW: I'm glad they included this in the story- I always love it when I get a chance to see the magic of the Rubber-Chicken-With-A-Pulley-In-The-Middle Company. There was another door at the back, also closed. They crossed the room and opened it. Inside, working in the intense yellow light of a wax candelabra, was Wally. Hunched over his workbench, making intricate markings on a parchment, he was the very picture of uninterrupted concentration. "Wally!" said Guybrush sharply. Wally blinked, and looked up. "Mr and Mrs Threepwood!" he said. MIKE: (Wally) It's pay back time! "Nice to see you guys." "Didn't you hear the noise?" asked Guybrush. "Noise?" said Wally. "What noise?" "The insane mob outside trying to demolish your store!" "No," said Wally. "Why, has something been going on today?" Guybrush nodded at Elaine. "Only the biggest hair-cutting event in history. Elaine had her head shaved. Haven't you noticed yet?" Wally looked at Elaine. "Oh, yeah. Looks weird." As ever, Wally was unflappable. "So, what is it you two guys need help with?" "Well, someone stole my hair," said Elaine. TOM: The most ridiculous plot in the history of literature. "He was fairly short-" Wally immediately bristled with indignation. "Oh, I see. You see some short guy and immediately you think, 'Wally'. Every week it's the same old story. Sheriff comes along, says some bozo saw a 'short guy' running from the scene of the crime, asks me where I was that night etcetera. I do have a private life, you know. That kind of thing should be my business-" "Wally," said Elaine, "we know it wasn't you." That stopped him. "Oh," he said. "We also know that you can help us find him." CROW: (Wally) Oh I see, you're saying all short people have a telepathic bond! Every week, it's the same old story... MIKE: Okay, okay, we get it. "Ah. Vertically Challenged Pirates, you mean?" "Yes." Vertically Challenged Pirates was a society Wally had formed soon after moving to Melee Island. Membership was very simple - if you were under five foot four, you were in. They met every Wednesday night in the RCWAPITM shop and exchanged stories. The meetings were a cross between a self-help group and a social gathering. Aside from Wally and the other members, only Guybrush and Elaine knew of the existence of VCP. CROW: (in disbelief) The... Vertically Challe-... (shakes his head in disgust) Mike, I'm going to go outside for a few minutes. MIKE: It's Fan-Fic sign, Crow. There's no air out there. CROW: I KNOW! MIKE: Sit down, Crow. "I don't really like giving out information on VCP members to the general public," said Wally. "But for a crime this serious, I guess I can overlook procedure for once." Was that sarcasm? Elaine decided to ignore it. "Well, the guy we're interested in had messy black hair, sideburns, fairly chubby arms, and stubby legs. He looked sort of child-like." TOM: What kind of child has side-burns? "Oh, I know who you mean," said Wally. "Cassius Amon. He was one of my first members." "Where's he live?" asked Guybrush. "Oh, he's not on Melee Island anymore," said Wally. "He moved out a few months ago." "Where to?" asked Elaine. "Skar Island," said Wally. ALL: Bum bum BUMMMMMMM! The Melee Island docks presented an eerie picture at the moment. One the one hand, the pier was packed. Ship after ship was docked side by side, with barely any room between them. CROW: |Ships| Hey! Quit crowding! You're in my bubble! All sorts of boxes, goods and other equipment were stacked up on the pier. On the other hand, there was nobody about. All the pirates were either still getting drunk in the Scumm Bar, or off in pursuit of Bald Meels (current location unknown). The sails flapped listlessly in the wind; seagulls circled above; otherwise, there was no movement. MIKE: Well, there was also a parade going on, but other than that... It was an environment in which the Elaine Marley Fanclub stood out rather sorely. They stood at one end of the pier, a ragged group defiantly clutching their telescopes, binoculars and eyeglasses. "Which ship is it?" asked Oscar. CROW: |singing| My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-... MIKE: Alright, alright. "There," said Tony. "With the scarlet sails." "Right!" said Scott of the Bahamas. "Okay mates, time for some spry reconnaisance." TOM: "I agree!" said Carl of the Caribbean. They all ducked behind various crates, and brought their telescopes, et al, to bear on the scarlet ship. "Keep a lookout for guards," said James the Fierce. "We wanna know how many we're up against." It soon became clear there were four armed and armored guards. One of them marched around the top deck, while the other three could be seen below, glimpsed through various portholes and windows. Even as they watched, the solitary guard on top went below, leaving the ship seemingly empty. There were also two figures in the Captain's room. A short black-haired guy ("That him?" asked Oscar. "Yeah," said Tony) and a big bald guy wearing a studded leather jacket. "Anyone know who that is?" asked Tony. MIKE: Martin Van Buren? TOM: Janice Joplin? CROW: Alan Greenspan? "Looks like the Carl Rubcek, Governor of Skar Island-" "Oi!" Scott of the Bahamas shouted. "It's Elaine!" Everyone instantly turned to pick her up. Yes, there was Elaine, with Guybrush beside her. They seemed to be heading toward the ship with the scarlet sail. "They're talking to each other!" said Tony. "Can anyone hear what they're saying?" CROW: They're saying "Oh dear Lord, get us out of this horrible story." Old Lemmy spoke up. "All right, guess it's time for me to use my super-hearing senses greatly magnified by my inability to see." He paused. "You gits." He got out his ear horn and inclined it in the direction of the couple. "But it doesn't make any sense," Guybrush was saying. "Why steal hair? What possible benefit could Carl get out of it?" ALL: EXACTLY!!!! "I can think of some," said Elaine grimly. "Maybe he'll sell the stuff himself. Make a huge profit. MIKE: Well, somebody's certainly got a big head. It might even entice some pirates to leave the Tri-Island area. Or maybe he just wants to humiliate me in public." "Yeah, but..." That ship was getting alarmingly close. "Shouldn't we at least get a few guards? I mean, this could get dangerous.,," "There's no time. For all we know they might be sailing now. If you want my opinion, the ship won't even have anyone on it. They can't know we've tracked them down. The crew are probably in the Scumm Bar now, laughing all about how they outwitted the Governor of Melee Island. I'd like to see their faces when they get back." "What if the hair isn't on the ship?" TOM: Then this story will drag out for another twenty pages... oh God, let the hair be on the ship. "It will be," said Elaine. "Where else is Cassius going to put it? He doesn't live here anymore." They'd made it to the ship. Elaine started up the gangplank; Guybrush swallowed, looked around, and followed her up. The deck was deserted. "See?" said Elaine. "Nobody here." They spent a minute searching the deck, but found nothing. "Must be down in the hold," said Elaine. CROW: Come now! Having searched for a minute hardly puts you in the position to make that kind of assumption, Elaine. She climbed down the stairs. Guybrush had just jumped down beside her when a two armoured guards appeared on either side out of the gloom. Each held a sword in one hand. MIKE: |slowly, sounding bored and lethargic| Oh... no... it's... some... guards... "Oh, crap," moaned Guybrush. In the Captain's room, lit by glowing sunlight from the edges of the drapes, Cassius and Carl were playing chess. TOM: They were going to play "Don't Wake Daddy", but some pieces were missing. The sack of hair was beside them on the table, open to the air. Every minute or so Carl would take a look inside it. CROW: I don't blame him. Hair is a tricky little devil... can't turn your back on it for a second. At first Cassius had thought he was merely checking up on his acquisition; but now, he was starting to wonder. MIKE: ... just what the Hell he was doing in a piece of crap story like this one. "Check," said Carl suddenly, moving his bishop forward. "Your mind elsewhere, Cassius?" "I was just thinking," said Cassius, "about my pay." TOM: Say, that reminds me, Mike... have you ever received any kind of monetary compensation for the years of suffering on board this Satellite? MIKE: Come to think of it, I haven't. CROW: Well, Tom and I got to thinking- we ought to call a lawyer and see that Pearl gives us what we rightfully deserve. Anyone forced to sit through things like this definitely should get fabulous cash prizes. TOM: Or at least a fruit basket. CROW: But we've received neither! I'm almost certain that violates a Union rule or something! TOM: We don't even get a good dental plan! We deserve Workman's Compensation! MIKE: Um... this isn't exactly a job we have here, guys. We're captives. Union rules don't apply here. TOM: ... CROW: ... TOM: We should petition to change that. CROW: Right! I'll draft a copy by tonight so you can look over it, and we can get a bunch of signatures on it! MIKE: I don't think you're quite getting the point... we'll talk about it later. "Ah." Carl laughed. "Rest assured, you'll get every gold piece once we make it back to Skar. Oh, and what will happen once we do!" He swigged the bottle of grog beside the board. "Good," said Cassius. "I was just thinking it seemed like a lot to pay for a bit of hair. Maybe you just wanted to attract my services then give me the cold shoulder." "You ever hear of Helen of Troy?" asked Carl suddenly. "What?" "They said she had a face that could launch a thousand ships," said Carl. "Elaine, you see, is the modern equivalent. Except it's not her face. It's her hair. This stuff" - he plunged one hand into the sack - "is magical." "But... it's just hair, isn't it?" said Cassius slowly. He watched Carl slowly move one hand inside the sack, heard the slither of Carl's fingers through the hair. This was getting disturbing. "That's precisely where you're wrong, Cassius," said Carl. "I've done my research. Five years ago I first saw her hair: and I haven't seen it on anyone else since. I've checked up all the women on Skar, all the women on all the other islands we've conquered. Nothing remotely similar. Do you know, it's even impossible to come up with a paint dye the same color! Now how is that possible, I ask?" MIKE: |Cassius| Actually no, I didn't ask... He pulled his hand from the sack, and it was clutching a clump of red hair. He shoved it in Cassius's face. "This stuff," said Carl, "makes you do things. Controls your actions. Makes you burn, rape, pillage. It'd make you walk off a cliff, if its owner told you to do so. It haunts your dreams. It's the color that stays when you shut your eyes." TOM: Mike, do we own any guns? MIKE: No, why? TOM: Because I'm going to SHOOT MYSELF IN THE HEAD! CROW: He's losing it, Mike... I think Tom needs a time out. TOM: HA HA HA! I'LL BLOW MY LITTLE GUMBALL MACHINE HEAD OFF! THEN THIS STORY WON'T BE ABLE TO GET ME ANYMORE! I'LL SHOW IT! HA HA HA HA! CROW: Mike, we really need to get him out of here! MIKE: Tom! Calm down! It's almost over! I promise! CROW: Sorry Mike, I don't think you can get through. This is even worse than that "Invasion of the Neptune Men" movie we had last week. TOM: (solemnly) I remember those days... watching "Invasion of the Neptune Men", silently suffering... MIKE: But Tom, that movie made you alphabetize your underwear collection while singing polka! TOM: But it was better than this... this story about "magic hair"... it's just too much... (sobbing) I just can't take it anymore! MIKE: Be strong, my friend. We'll get through this. Cassius stared at Carl's hand. A lump bulged in his throat. "Er... yeah," he said. Carl laughed, and threw the hair back into the sack. "But we've got it now. So it'll work for us. Right?" "Sure thing," agreed Cassius hurriedly. He looked around nervously for another exit. As he'd thought, there was only the one door. Even as he glanced at it, the door flew open. Two of Carl's guards stood there, keeping a firm hold on the struggling bodies of Guybrush and Elaine. Elaine's eyes narrowed as she saw Carl. "Carl Rubcek. Only you'd be insane enough to try something like this. CROW: |Elaine| Well... that guy who thinks he's Napolean... he might be crazy enough to try this... When the rest of the Tri-Island dignitaries hear of this-" Carl cut her off. His smile was wider than seemed physically possible. "Really, Elaine, I don't know what you think you're doing. Cause *I've* got the hair. Your words are useless against me now." MIKE: The person who wrote this story needs to seek help. Badly. He nodded to the guards. "Kill them both." TOM: And us too, please! The Fanclub had seen it all. "They've got Elaine!" shouted Tony. "We've got to do something!" said James the Fierce, following the action through his binoculars. "Right!" "They're being shoved up onto deck!" shouted Oscar, watching with horrified eyes. "So let's stop watching and do something about it!" said Tony, peering through his telescope. It felt like it was glued to his face. Stop gawking and do something! But he couldn't make his muscles move. "Gotcha, mate!" "They're being taken into the Captain's room!" shouted James the Fierce. "They're inside!" "Come on, you guys, get going!" said Tony. "I can't!" yelled Oscar helplessly. "I can't stop watching!" Tony tried to put down the telescope. It was impossible. Right at that moment, he caught a glimpse of Elaine through the porthole. In particular her shaved head. And he remembered what they'd came here for in the first place. CROW: To build the first Mormon Pirate Church that Skar Island ever had. He jerked the telescope from his face. He jumped up, knocked James the Fierce's binoculars away, swatted Oscar's telescope to the ground, and snatched Scott of the Bahamas's retracting telescope. Soon the Fanclub members were on their feet; muttering darkly, but no longer looking at Elaine. "Okay," said Tony. "There's no time to lose. Everyone get out your sword and let's storm that ship!" (10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1) (TOM and CROW are reading a piece of paper. Mike walks in, wearing a beanie over his bald head.) TOM: Oh hey, Chrome Dome, wanna' read our petition? MIKE: Petition? CROW: You remember- to force Pearl to give us some benefits. After all, we've provided the Forresters with amusement for over 10 years... I think we've earned ourselves some rewards. MIKE: I don't think she's going to go for this... TOM: Oh don't be such a worry-wart. Here, read this. (MIKE picks up the paper) MIKE: Alright... (reading) "We, the undersigned residents of the Satellite of Love, do hereby demand the following benefits as compensation for an increasingly strenuous workload." Well, let's see... the Right to Make Armpit Noises... the Right to Collect String... TOM: Don't forget the subtext to that one- the right to collect yarn. MIKE: A full Insurance plan with HMO coverage... Dental Plan... looks pretty good. CROW: See, Mike? We told you it'd all be fine. (light starts flashing) TOM: Oh look, Pearl's calling. We can give her our petition now. MIKE: I'm telling you, she isn't going to go for this... TOM: I think you should let us worry about that, Mike... why don't you go polish your scalp? (MIKE shakes his head and wanders off) |CASTLE FORRESTER| PEARL: You robots wanted to talk to me about something? |SOL| TOM: Why yes, Pearl... we feel that, due to the years of entertainment we have provided you, that it is only fair that you should, in turn, grant us the small favors we have requested on this petition here. Brain Guy, if you would? |CASTLE FORRESTER| OBSERVER: Pearl? (PEARL nods) Very well. (concentrates. The petition appears in Pearl's hands.) PEARL: (reads it, then looks up, an eyebrow raised) Let me get this straight... you think you deserve... benefits? |SOL| CROW: Um... yes. |CASTLE FORRESTER| PEARL: I'll give you a benefit- since today's fan-fic seems to be affecting you so strongly... how about I make you sit through it AGAIN!!! |SOL| TOM and CROW: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! TOM: We were being foolish, Pearl! CROW: Please! Have mercy! |CASTLE FORRESTER| PEARL: I'm glad you've changed your mind... now don't let it happen again! And get back into that theater! You've still got a few pages left! (1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10) There was an embarrassed shuffling of feet. "Well, come on, get out your swords! You do have swords, right?" TOM: (one of the pirates) I have a fish! Nobody wanted to speak. "Ummm..." said someone. "James! You've got a sword, don't you?" "I pawned it for that statue you saw," said James the Fierce. "Most of us guys, we've sold off just about everything for Elaine memorabilia. Have *you* got a sword?" MIKE: A question that's been sweeping the nation... who has a sword? TOM: It's a better question than "Who has Elaine's hair". Now it was Tony's turn to be sheepish. CROW: |James the Fierce| No fair! It's my turn to be sheepish! "Uh... I sorta figured you guys would have some." "Right!" said James the Fierce. "So we've got no weapons except for a few telescopes and binoculars. Is that it?" TOM: (random pirate again) I said I have a fish! "Well, they might cause some damage if we swing them fast enough," said Tony. "Besides, we've got an advantage over them..." MIKE: (Tony) All of our middle names are "the"! He suddenly looked along the ground, ran off, and came back with two tin cans and a length of string. Working quickly, he made two pinpricks in the cans, threaded the string through the tiny holes, and knotted them securely. TOM: So the pirates have third grader technology. "What on earth are you doing?" said James the Fierce. Tony gave one can to Oscar, and the other to Old Lemmy. "Simple. Oscar stays here and keeps an eye on the ship. He can tell us where all the guards are, so we can avoid them and get them from behind!" The other Fanclub members were taken aback. "Tony, mate, that's a great idea," said Scott of the Bahamas. "Let's go rescue Elaine... and that hair!" shouted Tony. He, James the Fierce, Scott of the Bahamas and Old Lemmy immediately ran at a fair clip toward the ship. They clattered up the gangplank and onto the deck. As before, there was nobody in sight. CROW: The ship should get some of those British guards that wear the big fuzzy hats. MIKE: You said the same thing about our sauna. CROW: Hey, can I help it if I want to feel secure while in the sauna? Old Lemmy was relaying information from Oscar. "Those two guards are still in the Captain's room, and the other two are below deck." They moved forward, listening intently to Oscar's instructions. James the Fierce was the first one to head below deck, followed immediately by Tony. The passage they were in branched twice, once in front, once behind. Old Lemmy whispered to them from above deck. "One's coming along the passage in front of you." James and Tony immediately threw themselves against the wall, MIKE: That must've hurt. grasping their telescopes tightly. They could hear the heavy footsteps of the guard. The guard appeared. Before he had time to turn his head, James had swung his telescope at his face, while Tony dropped down and grabbed the guard's legs. The telescope connected with an intricate smashing sound, immediately knocking the guard out cold, TOM: Is there such a thing as "out hot"? CROW: Yeah, it's what happens when Liv Tyler faints. while Tony made sure he didn't fall over and make a huge clatter on the floor. They gently rested his body against one wall, out of sight of the other passages. James took the guard's sword, mournfully letting his broken telescope fall to the floor. "So much for that telescope," he said. "You'll get another," said Tony. MIKE: (sarcastically) Well, I certainly feel better knowing that... One more to go. Scott of the Bahamas had joined them. "Where's the other guard?" Tony whispered up to Old Lemmy. Pause. "He's coming up the same passage," Old Lemmy relayed. This time, it was Scott of the Bahamas who destroyed his telescope (and the guard's face). CROW: Why didn't they just use the sword? MIKE: Crow! Do you want this to turn into the "Grignr" story? They rested the second guard's body next to the first. With both James and Scott now armed, they were a much more formidable invasion force. TOM: Not really... they don't have anymore telescopes to smash. They ran back up the stairs. The Captain's room was built under the poop deck. All the windows facing them were draped over, fortunately. The only door in was shut. Tony's whole body shook. Partly fear - and partly the knowledge that behind that door was a sackful of Elaine's hair. Could they really be this close to their goal? CROW: (TV announcer) The answer right after this commercial break! He rushed forward. As soon as Carl said 'both', Guybrush felt the grip on his arm loosen. He immediately ran forward, out of reach of the startled guards, past Cassius still rising in his seat, grabbed the sack of hair, and jumped to a window. "Nobody move!" he said. "Or I'll throw the hair right into the sea!" MIKE: (lethargic) Oh... no... not... that... "Really?" said Carl. "I'll be most interested to see how you throw a sack of hair through solid glass." TOM: Oooh, game, set, and match! Carl wins! Guybrush glanced at the window. It was shut, the latch closed, and no obvious means of opening. He scrabbled at the latch, trying to move it. Nothing worked. Cassius started laughing. The guards, more than happy to take up the cue, also started laughing. Everyone in the room had their eyes on Guybrush. So when Tony burst open the door and ran into the room, nobody was in a position to react. The guards were still turning as he jumped and smacked one on the head with his telescope. CROW: I thought they didn't have any. MIKE: And even if they did, they have swords. Why did they bother getting swords? TOM: Mike, I've stopped trying to figure this story out. You would be wise to do the same. It's hopeless... logic simply does not apply in this story. As the first guard reeled, James the Fierce ran in beside Tony and knocked the sword from the second guard's hand. MIKE: Let me guess... with a telescope? Elaine, now freed, turned and jumped at Carl. He ducked back, right into the path of Old Lemmy, CROW: (Old Lemmy) Hey guys, I've got a tray full of sandwiches in case you're hungr- oof! who'd somehow wandered in behind everyone. Scott of the Bahamas jumped forward and tackled Cassius. Soon, the Fanclub had carried the day. The two guards were stripped of their swords and armour and, together with Carl and Cassius, were tied up in one corner. TOM: So they needed a bunch of perverts with no social lives to save the day. Elaine looked at the sack of hair. "Well, well. I never dreamed this stuff could cause so much drama. Doesn't it look all strange cut up like that! I'm starting to think you might be right, Guybrush." MIKE: (Elaine) Attaching bicycle parts to small animals really is fun. She looked at the Fanclub (Oscar had run in once battle had begun). TOM: Well, thank heavens you cleared that up. "So you're the Fanclub, are you?" she said, smiling as if the world had just played a very good joke on her. "I guess we owe you our lives." CROW: (Fanclub) That's right, and we aim to collect! Kill 'em, boys! MIKE: Wishful thinking, Crow. Wishful thinking. The Fanclub stared and stammered. Accustomed to viewing Elaine through a lens, they were completely unmanned by her solid presence. "I... guess," said Tony. Cassius nudged Carl in the ribs. "Look at em going beet red," he whispered. "Told you the hair wasn't that important." TOM: (Cassius) It's the breasts that are worth something! "Shut up." "And I suppose I owe you a reward," continued Elaine. "So what'll it be?" CROW: This story is in serious danger of become a "Penthouse Forum" letter. Tony looked at the other Fanclub members: they looked back at him. "Well, speaking for myself, there's only one thing I want," he said. Later that day, Guybrush and Elaine were back at the Mansion. After they'd stripped his ship, they'd finally allowed Carl and Cassius to set sail for Skar Island. Which they immediately did, tail between their legs. Posters were put up announcing that the hair thief had been recovered; unfortunately, the hair itself had been lost in the struggle. One by one, the pirates returned to Melee township. Normality reasserted itself. After they'd finished their dinner, Elaine counted the take from that morning's public shaving. "Twenty five thousand gold pieces," she said proudly. "More than enough to house those refugees from Cuirass." "Looks like everything turned out for the best," said Guybrush. He thought of Elaine's hair, dumped carelessly in a garbage bin, and smiled. He looked at Elaine, got up, walked over, and ran his hand over her head. TOM: Noogies!!! Elaine sighed. "Look, will you *stop doing that*!" "It just feels so weird!" In the days that followed, there were rather fewer Elaine pictures plastered up around town. The Melee Chronicle no longer ran Elaine illustrations on every front page. MIKE: For some sick reason, it was now running pictures of Old Lemmy in his underwear... . A thriving trade in fake Elaine hair sprang up, but died out after a few days. The body of Bald Meels was never found. CROW: ... so? In his bedroom, Tony Allason got ready to settle down for what should be a long, satisfying night's sleep. He wasn't going to climb the mountain tomorrow. For one thing, he'd finally met the Governor. After he'd named his reward, they'd spent the next few minutes chatting. He'd gotten more enjoyment out of those few minutes than a whole lifetime of spying from afar. Sure, he'd miss the rest of the guys, but there was so much more he could be doing with his life. TOM: So many other people he could be stalking... For another thing, he didn't need to see Elaine's bright face in the morning. She'd be with him every night. MIKE: I guess his request was that she come over and tuck him in every night. Tony uncurled his fist, revealing the thick lock of Elaine's hair he held tightly in his palm. A paltry reward by some people's standards, but not his. CROW: (Tony, excited) Now I can put this next to my lock of William Shatner's hair and that piece of Rod Stewart's brain! Tony climbed into bed. Now, where should he put the hair...? He tried putting it on the sheet beside him. Somehow, that didn't seem right. Tony picked it up, and placed it under the pillow. There. That was better. TOM: Now his mother would come over and see what a broken, obsessed man her son had become. Almost immediately, Tony fell asleep. MIKE: If all he wanted was a cure for insomnia, he should have just read this story. THE END CROW: The two most beautiful words in the English language... (10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1) |SOL| (MIKE, TOM, and CROW are breathless, soaked with sweat. They are all leaning against walls or whatever is nearby, panting for breath.) TOM: We... did it... CROW: We survived... we... made it through. |CASTLE FORRESTER| PEARL: (disappointed) It didn't break you! Rrrrrrrrr... . You got lucky this time, Nelson. But wait until next week.. I've got something that'll really make you squirm... |SOL| MIKE: Trust me Pearl... nothing could ever be as bad as that. |CASTLE FORRESTER| PEARL: Oh no, eh? Think you know everything, eh? Well then... I guess this won't bother you! (She holds up a reel. It's the movie "Jurassic Park III".) |SOL| (MIKE's eyes go wide.) ALL: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! -Credits Roll- (This MSTing was not intended to be offensive to the author of this story. If, at times, I went over the line, then I must apologize. I just thought it was really funny. Again, sorry.) -GRAND POOBAH (silentbob103@hotmail.com)