This MSTing is a sequel to GIST Spams, which also featured a crossover between the Cartoon Planet crew and the good folks on the Satellite of Love. You don't need to have read GIST Spams to enjoy this, but I think it's pretty good, so why don't you? We'll wait. Done? Good. I'd like to dedicate this MSTing to Andy Merrill, voice of Brak and Lokar. Best of luck in New York; if there's any justice in the world, the entertainment industry will be showering you with riches any minute now. [Season 9 Opening] [Door Sequence] Satellite of Love bridge. Mike and the Bots appear to have just finished up a particularly rough session in the theater. MIKE: So that's the new Godzilla, huh? TOM: Yup. Japan's greatest monster, outfitted with Jay Leno's chin and Strom Thurman's wattle. CROW: Still, it could have been worse. At least it didn't star Casper Van Diem. [All shudder in horror] Suddenly, a very, very loud doorbell is heard. MIKE: What's that? GYPSY: [Off-screen] It's the doorbell! I had the Nanites install it so we'd know when strange aliens came calling. MIKE: How lovely. Cambot, give me Rocket Number 9. Let's see who it is. [Exterior shot. The Phantom Cruiser is hovering next to the Satellite of Love. Space Ghost is hovering outside, ringing a giant doorbell.] CROW: Hey, it's that guy! I remember that guy. But weren't we 500 years in the future last time we saw him? MIKE: I'm sure there's some explanation. Gypsy, let them in. GYPSY: Roger! [Airlock sounds. Space Ghost, Zorak, and Brak enter the bridge.] MIKE: So, what brings you fine folks here? GHOST: Greetings, citizen. Actually, we were wondering if you could do us a favor. TOM: Depends on the favor, really. GHOST: [Hesitantly] Well... we want to borrow your theater. MIKE: [Incredulous] Why would anyone -want- to go in there? ZORAK: It's like this. Apparently, it's Brak's... birthday. BRAK: [singing] Happy birthday, tooooooo meeeeeeee!!!!! GHOST: Exactly. And ever since we were trapped in your theater reading those insipid Gist things, well, it seems that Brak's... you see, Brak has decided... Brak thought it was fun. BRAK: I liked it! Talkin' back at the screen, makin' jokes, learning new words... GHOST: Exactly. He likes it. So for his birthday, he asked us to find you guys and see if we could fill in for you. ZORAK: And Space Cheese, being the goody-goody that he is, just couldn't say no to Brakums, could you. No. So now we're going to have to sit through some awful writing, just because you couldn't go out and find something shiny to distract Brak with on his birthday! BRAK: [singing] Happy birthday, tooooooo meeeeeeee!!!!! MIKE: Well, I don't really see a problem here. CROW: Nope! I've got some reading to catch up on. TOM: I've got some underwear to sort. You guys go on ahead. I'm sure Pearl will send something along soon. She always does. BRAK: Hooray! I get to go in the theater! I'm so... so happy. I'm getting verklempt. Talk about yourselves. I'll give you something to talk about. Space Spectre was neither Space, nor a Spectre. Discuss. ZORAK: Save it for the theater, sock-boy. GHOST: Anyway, thanks. I think. Maybe she'll go easy on us. [Brak bounds off to the theater, followed, considerably more sedately, by Zorak and Space Ghost.] MIKE: And just in the nick of time, too. We've got Castle Forrester on line one. [Castle Forrester. I'm not going to do scene changes for the back and forth conversation between the Satellite and the Castle. You all know the drill. Anyway, Pearl's talking, Observer's working on something in the background, and Bobo's nowhere to be seen. Go with yourself.] PEARL: Ah, Nelspace. Welcome to hell. And this time, hell's not going to come in a lovely and attractive handbasket, perfect for a quick, last-minute floral centerpiece when unexpected guests arrive. [Bobo enters from off-screen, carrying a paper pad and some pamphlets] BOBO: Oh, hi, space guys. Wanna buy a magazine subscription? It's for Scouts! BRAIN: [Looking up] Scouts? I thought it was for your church group? PEARL: And -I- thought it was for your ninth grade trip to Washington, DC, a lovely town, really, with lots of quaint little suburbs perfect for selling cheap, licensed K-Mart merchandise to. BOBO: Oh, it is, it is! And how are you enjoying your subscription to Martha Stewart's Living, Lawgiver? PEARL: It's perfect! With my busy schedule of global domination, I didn't think I'd have the time to be the consummate homemaker, too! Now get out of my way. I've got some drapes to sew, some fanfic to send to the satellite, and I'm feeling homicidal. [Holds out a clear, giant garbage bag full of wood chips] Potpourri? BOBO: Oh, that's lovely. Is that Glade? PEARL: GLADE! I hand-selected these spices and oils and woods myself! It took me three WEEKS! [clobbers Bobo with bag] Now, as for you, Nellcarterson, prepare for the worst pain of your natural life. Dr. Thinker's MSTing of Stephen Ratliff's 1999 ASC Awards Banquet, featuring the new Trek/MLM Crossover category! MIKE: Man, I sure am glad we won't be in the theater for that one... CROW: Yeah, Brak'll really get a kick out of this! PEARL: [checking instruments] What? How in the name of all that's unholy did you manage that. Brain guy! [no response] BRAIN GUY!!!!!! BRAIN: Oh, sorry, Pearl, I was just memorizing the cheat codes for Vigilante 8. PEARL: Get your head out of that videogame magazine and listen up. Put the Ultimate Evil back into cold storage. We've got ringers on our hands. I know! Send 'em that Dark Nega Launch Tales Duck Confitte Disney thing. Nothing like an evil version of a cartoon superhero to give that pesky Ghost mental spasms. [SOL] ALL: THEY'VE GOT FANFIC SIIIIGN! YIPPEE! [Door Sequence] BRAK: [Yelling] When's it gonna start! When's it gonna start! ZORAK: Take it easy, Brak. Have some popcorn. BRAK: You brought popcorn? I love popcorn! ZORAK: [sighs] Happy birthday, Brak. BRAK: [a la Cartman] It's my birthday, my ba-ba-ba-birthday... GHOST: Sssh. It's starting. ZORAK: Why are you shushing us? We're -supposed- to talk. That's the whole point of this otherwise pointless exercise. >NegaDuckTales, Part 1: ZORAK: Disney. Why did it have to be Disney. GHOST: I'd just like to take this opportunity to give a shout out to my homeys over at The Mouse. Goofy, represent. ZORAK: Don't ever do that again. BRAK: Um, I'm confused. ZORAK: Big surprise. BRAK: Is this a tale about Negaduck, or an evil version of DuckTales? GHOST: We'll find out soon enough. >EXPANDING NEGAVERSE ZORAK: With the new Mantis Master, from Zorak Industries, you too can cut vast amounts of blobular poundage from your expanding negaverse! Get your negaverse back into shape! >by Kim McFarland (AKA Negaduck9@aol.com) BRAK: All hail Kim! I don't know why I said that. I've got the strangest feeling of deja de. >It was a dark and stormy night. ZORAK: Oh, brother. GHOST: This is never a good sign. BRAK: Storms are scary. > Clouds hung low over the Negaverse St. Canard, GHOST: Well, that settles that. It's a Darkwing Duck story. ZORAK: How do you know so much about the Disney Afternoon, anyway? GHOST: Let's just say I had my afternoons to myself before the new show started. >mixing in with the smog. Little rain fell, BRAK: But the big rain just hung there in the air! > but the growling of the thunder more >than made up for the deficiency. ZORAK: So, thunder's an enabler, then? GHOST: It's Leo Buscaglia meteorology. BRAK: I met Leo Buscaglia once. He kept trying to hug me. I'm not really the hugging type. ZORAK: Fear of intimacy? BRAK: Nope. Fear of cooties. >Negaduck was in his element. ZORAK: Hydrogen. BRAK: [Simultaneously] Hydrogen. GHOST: Now -that's- scary. >He skulked through the back alleys in the center of the city, a pipe bomb >hidden within his cape. BRAK: Oh, and here I thought he was just happy to see us! > When he reached the police station he peered through a >window. The file room was empty. He opened the window and entered silently. >He appraised the room for a minute, searching for the most prominent location. ZORAK: Negaduck figured the room was worth at -least- ten thousand dollars. >He placed the pipe bomb on top of the file cabinet nearest the door and set the >timer. Then he slipped one of his business cards under the door and escaped >back out the window. ZORAK: First rule of villainy, never leave your name and address at the crime scene. BRAK: Isn't that how Space Ghost caught you the last time? ZORAK: Don't remind me. I thought I'd mail out my bills after stealing the prototype rocket bomb, and dropped my Visa bill, with return address stamped right on it. And now look where I am. Beloved by millions, yet still trapped in a prison pod. BRAK: Guess you kinda broke even, huh. >The next day he thumbed through the newspaper. His anticipation faded with each >page he scanned and found no mention of his crime. GHOST: However, he did learn that there was a sale on at Penney's. > Finally, he spotted it ... >buried in the middle of a column on the last page. ZORAK: Doric, Ionic, or Corinthian? GHOST: Rrrrich Corrrrrinthian Leatherrrr.... BRAK: The third Greek order, the Corinthian, was little used until the Romans adopted it. It was the latest, fully developed in the 4th cent. B.C., and also the most ornate. Then they put it in Oldsmobiles and had Freakazoid's enemy talk about it. ZORAK: Where do you get this stuff? BRAK: You know, bits here, pieces there... I read a lot. > His disappointment turned >into rage when he saw that not only had it not been deemed worthy of a >headline, his name had not even been mentioned! He did not care that the bomb >had been found and dismantled in time - although the havoc it would have caused >by ruining the police department files would have been amusing - but he had >planned for them to find his signature card and credit him with the attempt! ZORAK: Second rule of villainy. Never let your ego get in the way of your schemes. That was something I, personally, was very, very good at. BRAK: He's the best at what he does, and what he does ain't pretty. >"Flatheaded cops! GHOST: And all I have is a Phillips-head cop driver! > Probably so wired on coffee they didn't bother to look down!" >he growled as he tore the paper in two. BRAK: No, Negaduck, you're doing it ALL WRONG! You're supposed to make a "ffft" noise, and pretend to tear the paper. It's funnier that way. > How was he supposed to get any >publicity as a supervillain if they never credited his crimes?! After a few >fakes he would pull off the REAL one, and by then everyone would know who was >responsible! ZORAK: Bah. Sounds like someone's villainy stems from a basic insecurity and lack of self-esteem. True evil needs no audience, no recognition. GHOST: By the way, Zorak, I meant to tell you before we left. You got another couple bags of fan mail. ZORAK: Really? Um, I mean, HAH! Silly humans, thinking I seek their approval! >He would have to get more serious. No more squibs and easily overlooked >business cards. He would need something flashier this time, and he would show >up personally. GHOST: So, vinegar, baking soda, and a nice Armani suit, then? >With a crash of shattering glass, a canister flew in through the window of the >St. Canard police station. BRAK: It was filled with chocolate-covered pretzels, and the policemen had a lovely afternoon snack. The end. ZORAK: That's not how they do it. It's more like, "And the canister sprayed poison gas throughout the whole city and everyone died. The end." BRAK: I suppose, but poison gas doesn't make for a lovely afternoon snack. > It spewed forth a red smoke cloud. A figure dressed >in a yellow double breasted coat, black cape and red wide brimmed hat appeared >within it. As the smoke dissipated the figure shouted, BRAK: ALL HAIL BRAK!!!!! GHOST: Please. What are the odds that the author would be a fan of -yours-. > "I am the terror that >flaps in the night! I am the screeching fingernails on the chalkboard of >justice! I am NEGADUCK!" GHOST: Maybe I should get me one of those descriptive intro things. I am the guy... um, I am the Space Ghost who... flies in the day! I am the caraway seed stuck in the gums of villainy! I am Spaaaaaace Ghooooost! ZORAK: You are the LOSER that flaps his gums, day or night. GHOST: In the spirit of Brak's birthday, I won't blast you into your component mantis molecules for that, Zorak. BRAK: I appreciate that. Really, I do. >He stepped forward and glared at the policemen at their desks. "And what do I >have to do to get you schmucks' attention, burn down a doughnut shop?!?" BRAK: [singing] If you want to find, all the cops, they're hangin' out in the donut shop... GHOST: Mmmmm. Doughnuts. Those are pretty dense. >Several of the policemen exchanged glances. So THIS was the nutcase who was >planting business cards all over. One of them spoke up. "It's our Mugger of >the Month candidate!" He drew his gun. ZORAK: As our Mugger of the Month, you get a bullet in the leg. Congratulations. GHOST: Could be worse. If this were New York instead of St. Canard, they'd have to, you know, get out the plumbing supplies. BRAK: For once, I think I'm happy to not know what you're talking about. >"MUGGER!" Negaduck shrieked. Being ignored was one thing - GHOST: But being mugged in a police station just adds insult to injury. > being belittled to >his face was another! He was starting to reach behind himself when a bullet >missed him by a fraction of an inch. ZORAK: Try to scratch your hinder again and we'll take you down! >He was no coward, but he was not bulletproof either. He dove out the window and >landed in the seat of his motorcycle. He gunned it and roared away. Several >police cars took off in pursuit. GHOST: So he dove into the seat of his motorcycle, shot it, and did his lion impression, then the police decided to chase him in their flying cars? ZORAK: It still makes more sense than "The Fifth Element". >Negaduck drove through the streets with flagrant disregard for traffic laws. >The sirens stayed behind him. ZORAK: But the cop cars went the wrong way. BRAK: If they were sirens in the classical sense, there's no way Negaduck would be running away. Many a sailor has been dashed against the rocks by the harsh sea after following the haunting call of the siren. ZORAK: Every time you do that, Brak, it gets creepier and creepier. > Apparently the cops didn't mind speeding down >one-way streets the wrong way any more than he did. GHOST: That's 'cause they're trying to get on Fox's Wildest Police Chases IV, the camera-hogs. ZORAK: [sotto voce] Pot, meet kettle. >He dodged in and out of traffic, thoroughly enjoying himself. ZORAK: That's gotta be tough to do during a high-speed chase. GHOST: Ahem. [raises power bands threateningly] ZORAK: Oh, alright. I'll be "good". For now. > This would be >written up for sure! He remembered the grenade that he had planned to throw >inside the police station, and took it out and pulled the pin with his teeth. >It exploded behind him, silencing the sirens. BRAK: I had a grenade once. They told me to pull the pin out and throw it, so I did, and the pin didn't blow up! I did, though. That stung. I needed Bactine after. GHOST: That's it. No more Benny Hill reruns for you, mister. BRAK: But it's so funny! When he slaps that bald guy on the head, and it goes "wapwapwapwapwapwapwap"! Bwaaahahahaha! "Wap." Oh boy. >He drove into "the bad section of town", an area which the police had long ago >given up on trying to clean up. They now just stayed safely out of the way. He >felt right at home there. GHOST: That's awfully considerate of the police, providing an area for criminals to congregate and all. >He parked the motorcycle in the alley behind a decrepit apartment building and >dismounted. This place would make a decent hideout for the time being, he >thought. Now he just had to wait and see whether his front page write-up in >the St. Canard Times was above or below the crease. BRAK: Man, he's worse than Creature King. ZORAK: Tell me about it. Back in the old Council of Doom days, there was nothing worse than getting caught in the wrong room with Creature King. He'd always be brandishing some new clipping or local news video of his latest "exploit". BRAK: Yeah, he used to drive me nuts too. Whatever happened to him, anyway? ZORAK: Went straight. He sells insurance now. >He hid his motorcycle behind a dumpster and climbed up the fire escape. The >first two floors were boarded up; BRAK: I'm feelin' pretty boreded myself! Hah! Was that a good one? I thought that was a good one. ZORAK: I've heard worse, birthday boy. Not -much- worse, of course... > he went in the third floor exit. Inside, it >was clear that although the building had been abandoned for years, someone had >recently been inside. >He tried the doors. GHOST: They fit snugly, like a spandex suit just back from the cleaners. ZORAK: Congratulations. It's no longer Brak's beans and franks birthday cake that's making me nauseated. > One of them was locked. He found a key nearby which fit >the lock. GHOST: Obviously the fine people of St. Canard have a thing or two to learn about basic home security techniques. > He opened the door. Inside was a young girl in a pink dress. She >blinked sleepily, then stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. "Who are you?" ZORAK: What do you want? GHOST: [Kosh] Never ask that question! BRAK: OK, what would you like for lunch? GHOST: [Kosh] Lunch is a three-edged sword. BRAK: You want mustard on that sword? >His reply was cut off by a sudden noise from the hallway. BRAK: PPTTHHTHTHHPPTHHTPHTHH! ZORAK: [Sighs] You're many things, Brak, but you're no Dorothy Parker. BRAK: Nope! She kicked me off the Algonquin Round Table for making too many fart sounds. She thought she was soooooo great, her and her bran muffins. ZORAK: You mean bon mots? BRAK: No, I mean bran muffins. Why do you think I was making all the fart sounds? > A large, vicious- >looking duck shoved past him and slammed the door, then pulled out a bazooka >and aimed it at him. "Back off, punk!" GHOST: Ooooooh. Scaaaaary. Is the big duck gonna shoot me? >Negaduck looked him up and down appraisingly. He wore a denim jacket, jeans and >a t-shirt, all torn and dirty. His red hair was pulled back in a rubber band, >and he apparently hadn't made the acquaintance of a sharp razor in weeks. He >looked as if he could punch his way through a wall, and furthermore would be >dumb enough to try it. GHOST: Just remember, kids, it's not really dumb to do things you're actually capable of. ZORAK: That explains why the big brass never call on you when it's PSA time. > Typical street thug, Negaduck decided, easily bluffed. >"Who are you calling punk?!" He walked up to him and slapped the muzzle of the >bazooka aside. "And who are YOU?" ZORAK: ...calling punk?! And who are YOU? GHOST: ...calling punk?! And who are YOU? BRAK: Never, uh, tweedleedeedulee... ask me that question. When's three-edged lunch? ZORAK: Any debate as to Brak's possibly being a Vorlon just officially ended. >Momentarily caught off guard, he replied, "Launchpad McQuack. Now who are YOU?" GHOST: Is there anyone in this story who isn't abnormally hung up on mutual identification? >Negaduck swirled his cape. "I am known as Negaduck!" He paused dramatically. >Launchpad broke the silence that followed. "Never heard of ya." BRAK: I broke the silence once. My mom took it out of my allowance. >Negaduck gritted his teeth. What did a duck have to DO to get a little >notice?!" >Perhaps you've heard of the pipe bombings at the police headquarters?" ZORAK: [Negaduck] "Well, I'm them." >"YOU'RE the one who's been doing that?" Launchpad asked, amazed. Negaduck >nodded, eyes closed. When he opened his eyes again he found himself looking >down the barrel of the bazooka. "You JERK!" >Negaduck shoved the weapon aside again. "Watch where you point that thing!" GHOST: Be careful, it might have been dipped in raw chicken! BRAK: RELAX THE CHICKEN! >"Look, punk, those stupid little tricks just get 'em mad. Then they come after >ya. They're like any other gang - you don't get in their face, they don't get >in yours." >"Oh, and what makes you such a hotshot? Besides the scrap metal?" GHOST: Oh, no. It can't be. ZORAK: Scrap metal... Hotshot... BRAK: Um, if he starts, if he starts talking about finding these dimes in a pipe, I'm goin' home. Birthday or no birthday. >Launchpad took the bazooka down from his shoulder. "You heard of Flintheart >Glomgold?" ZORAK: No, but I've heard of Steeltrap Pigiron. GHOST: Or maybe Flimflam McSparky? BRAK: Meatface Jellomold! >"Yeah. He disappeared a few years back. So?" >Launchpad grinned and patted the weapon. "Nice guys finish last. I made sure." GHOST: [Shatnerian] Know... he's insinuating... something... must... figure out what... >"Yeah ... well ... so what's with the girl?" Negaduck jerked a thumb at the >door. ALL: WHO IS SHE?!?!?! >"Oh, that... well, I struck out on my own awhile ago. Got tired of being >McDuck's hired gun. Figured I'd take her as insurance, y'know, people will >pay to get their little girl back." ZORAK: Well, except for Natalie Imbruglio's parents. >"Oh. Whose kid is she, anyway?" >"Dunno. Grabbed her from the orphanage." He shrugged. >Negaduck jeered, "Lesson one. If you're gonna kidnap someone, pick someone who >has a family you can ransom 'em to!" BRAK: That's-a not Italian! ZORAK: No, this is a different kind of lesson. >"Well, shoot!" Launchpad said, exasperated. "I been holding her for NOTHING?" >"Right." Negaduck smirked. >"Guess I don't need her then." he said, hoisting the bazooka back onto his >shoulder. >"Wait! Hostages can be useful." ZORAK: Jan and Jace, for example. GHOST: Hey! >Launchpad appeared to think about it. Then he lowered the weapon again. "Yeah." >Negaduck could see that this duck was definitely lacking in the brains >department. ZORAK: Takes one to know one. > But at least he had good taste in weapons... "Got anything stronger >than this peashooter?" Negaduck asked, tapping the bazooka. >"Heck yeah! This is just the portable model." >"All right. I think we can strike a deal." Negaduck said with an evil grin. BRAK: I'll give you two hundred dollars for a toothbrush! GHOST: You're no Monty Hall, Brak. ZORAK: Speaking of Hall, why don't we haul ourselves outta here. I've... gotta go. GHOST: Didn't you... go... before we left? ZORAK: Don't bug me. I gotta go, is all. BRAK: I gotta go too. GHOST: Fine. Let's go. [Door Sequence] [SOL Bridge. L-R: Brak, SG, Zorak. Mike and the Bots are nowhere to be seen.] ZORAK: Got a problem? I'm listening. GHOST: The kids at school don't like me. BRAK: My girlfriend says I smell. GHOST: The teachers say I'm lazy. BRAK: Sometimes I wanna YELL! MIKE, BOTS: [Offscreen] Zorak, can you help me? ZORAK: Sure, kid, just tell ol' Zorak. Now what's your problem? GHOST: This mask is really itchy! BRAK: My underwear's too tight! GHOST: No one understands me! ZORAK: Yeah, right. BRAK: Now it's time for Zorak's Helpful Hints. GHOST: Zorak, here's a caller, with a question! BOBO: Oh, goodie! I got through! ZORAK: Cram it, monkeyboy. What's your question. BOBO: Hello, Zorak. Long time watcher, first time caller. I've always wanted to say that. Anyway, I'm starting to think my boss doesn't have any respect for me. ZORAK: So? She's your boss. She's not supposed to. BOBO: Well, I don't like it. What should I do? ZORAK: The world of workplace politics is a tricky one. Can you kill her? BOBO: I don't think so. ZORAK: Can you beat her senseless? BOBO: No, no, I don't think that's a good idea. ZORAK: Then do what I do. If your boss doesn't have any respect for you, don't have any respect for your boss! GHOST: Zorak, I think that's enough populist incitement for one day. ZORAK: Shut up, stupid. [to Bobo] See how it works? BOBO: [hesitantly] Well... maybe I'll give it a try. ZORAK: That's the spirit. PEARL: Bobo! You dim-witted, flea-ridden... get them back in the theater! BOBO: Shut up, stupid? PEARL: What was that? BOBO: I mean, yes, Lawgiver! ZORAK: They never learn. BRAK: WE'VE GOT STORY SIGN!!!!! [Door Sequence] >Back at the police station, things were settling down. Now they had a face and >a name to attach to the bomb threats they had been receiving. BRAK: It didn't really help their detective work, but it made the threats seem friendlier. Hey, Zorak, you know that flying bomb you had? ZORAK: Yes. BRAK: Well, I thought putting the emergency jetpacks in it was pretty dang friendly of you. ZORAK: Don't remind me. Stupid safety regulations. > Not that the >threats were of themselves unusual - St. Canard was a rough place to live - but >at least they could alert the force to be on the lookout for the fruitcake in >the stupid looking fedora. ZORAK: The next day, Dick Tracy, The Shadow, Sam Spade, and Elliot Ness were all brought in for questioning. GHOST: Hey, guys, you think I should get a fedora, like all those hip crimebusters? ZORAK; I -do- know an excellent haberdasher. BRAK: Haberdasher. There's a funny word. One who haberdashes! >Captain Jack Kazaleh ALL: GESUNDHEIT! BRAK: [laughing] I love that one. > called in his secretary and handed her a memo to type and >distribute, detailing Negaduck's appearance and actions. It would boost the >department's morale to get the gaudily dressed lowlife safely inside a cell. GHOST: I know nothing cheers me up like looking at my own captive, gaudily dressed lowlives! ZORAK: Oh, put a sock in it. And I'm not gaudy. BRAK: I thought Ben Kingsley was Gaudy. >Then he sighed and looked at the caseload on his desk. There was a huge pile >of files. Robberies, muggings, vandalism... GHOST: ...swirlies, Indian burns, a couple of petty hangings... BRAK: And a man I never met before suddenly gave me flowers! >Some of the cases were months old, >and unsolved due to lack of manpower. They just didn't have enough people for >this city! ZORAK: Neutron bombs'll do that. >He picked up an unfamiliar file. It was a kidnapping case. A girl had been >snatched from the orphanage six days ago, and a ransom note had come in. He >shook his head. Any smart kidnapper would take a kid with wealthy parents who >would be too frightened to go to the police, and instead just pay to get their >child back. ZORAK: Say what you like about this story, but it IS providing useful tips for anyone interested in going into the kidnapping biz. GHOST: Yeah, it sure is beating the "take something of value" point into the ground. Maybe if you'd read this years ago, you never would have grabbed Jan or Jace. ZORAK: Now -you're- doing it. > He puzzled through the scrawly writing of the ransom note. This >was unusual - the drop location was an address in the slum section. Usually >kidnappers picked some anonymous place like a locker at the train station. GHOST: So, they've got the kidnapper's address, but the case has gone unsolved for months? Brak, have you been moonlighting? BRAK: No, but I did kiss Cybill Shepard on the lips once. ZORAK: Oh, you did not! BRAK: I did too! Or maybe it was Bruce Willis. >Well, this criminal was obviously not too smart - as evidenced by his choice >of victims - and he might have been stupid enough to use his own address as >the drop point. It was a chance. ZORAK: The same kind of chance that helped Space Ghost bolster his own desperately flagging crime-fighting career. GHOST: CROW!!!!! ZORAK: What was -that- for? GHOST: I'm not sure, but it seemed strangely... appropriate somehow. >Later that night Negaduck gave up in frustration. He had been trying to work >out some plan to destroy the police station, but Launchpad couldn't seem to >understand why. Couldn't the idiot comprehend the long-range benefit of >getting them out of the way once and for all? BRAK: Seems to me that Negaduck has pretty high expectations for the idiots in his life. GHOST: [muttering] I know the feeling. ZORAK: Um, what was that? GHOST: Um, Hooked on a Feeling. Boy, wasn't that a great song. >All he seemed to see was that >there was no immediate profit in it. No wonder he was just a street thug! He >had no ambition! If it weren't for the weapons in his possession Negaduck >would have left long ago. ZORAK: [muttering] I know the feeling. GHOST: Um, what was that? ZORAK: Er, Hooked on a Feeling. I think that's a stupid song. >He stamped into the room connecting with the third floor fire exit. When he >entered he saw that the girl was staring out the window at the night skyline. >Great. The big fool had even forgotten to lock her in. >She startled when she heard him close the door behind himself. Then, seeing it >was not Launchpad, she relaxed a little. ZORAK: Gosalyn is obviously unaware of the concept "Better the devil you know". BRAK: Or, "better the deviled eggs you know, then the deviled ham you don't!" ZORAK: Does -everything- you say revolve around food, Brak? BRAK: Umm, it's more of a retrograde orbit, but, yeah. Pretty much. >"Kid. How long have you been here?" >"I've been here a week, I think, sir." she replied politely. GHOST: [singing] It's been, one week since I kidnapped you... BRAK: I love that song! Chick chick chickadee, chinese chicken, um, somethin' about the X-Files... hey, how come I never get to watch the X-Files? GHOST: Because it's too scary for you, Brak. ZORAK: And I suppose Duchovny getting to Tea Leoni before you had your chance has NOTHING to do with it. >"Uh huh. No parents or anything?" >"No..." she said sadly. "Ever since Mom and Dad, and then my grandfather, died >I've been at the orphanage. But it's not so bad." She put on a brave little >smile. BRAK: Aww. [sniff] Little girl lost. ZORAK: It's a hard knock life, all right. >Negaduck rolled his eyes. It was no wonder Launchpad kept her locked in that >room. She was so sweet his teeth were beginning to ache. He hoped that he >wouldn't need insulin after he pumped her for information. "What's your name, >kid?" ZORAK: ...he asked, having milked the sugary metaphor far beyond what it was worth... >"Gosalyn Waddlemeyer." BRAK: Oh, my, hostage has a first name, it's G-O-S-A-L-Y-N, oh, my hostage has a second name it's W-A-D-D-L-E-M-E-Y-E-R! >"Uh huh." The last name was familiar - where had he heard it before ... ? Then >he remembered. "When did they die?" >She looked at the ground sadly. "They died two years ago, sir." >He knelt down in front of her. "And what was your Grandpa's job?" he asked in >a syrupy tone of voice. It was a long shot, but... GHOST: ...it... just... might... work! ZORAK: You've been taking lessons from Shatner again, haven't you. BRAK: I AM BRAKIROK! >"He was a scientist." >"And what kind of science did he work with?" he asked hopefully. GHOST: The same kind she blinded me with. BRAK: Good heavens, Miss Sakamoto, you're beautiful! ZORAK: Philistines. >"He worked with chemicals and compounds, sir." >Negaduck held back a yelp of joy. When he had regained his composure he put on >his most sugary tone of voice. "Now, dear, don't be sad. We'll take care of you >now." ZORAK: Now that we're aware of your father's profession, we'll stop chaining you to the wall of the basement. >Gosalyn hugged him. "Thank you, sir." she said trustingly. >Negaduck flinched. Then he patted her head. "Now, do you remember where his >laboratory was?" BRAK: First door on the right, and don't forget to flush! GHOST: I think he means the place where scientists do their experiments, Brak. BRAK; You still shouldn't forget to flush. Especially after a big experiment. ZORAK: I am NOT having this conversation. >She shook her head. "I don't remember how we got there. I'm sorry." >He stifled a curse. Oh, well, maybe she would remember something that could >give him a clue later. "Now, dear, it's way past your bedtime. I'll tuck you >in." >She released him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She got into the bed. He >said, "Rest up. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow." ZORAK: It's actually 28 hours long. GHOST: When you're livin' large like me, every day's a big day. ZORAK: Big fat head day! GHOST: How's your big fat head day, kids? ZORAK: It's like Pavlov, only with twice the drool. >"Would you sing me a lullaby?" She looked up at him appealingly. ZORAK: Perhaps a little something from Marilyn Manson. >Through gritted teeth he said, "I don't know any. Why don't you sing yourself >one, dear?" >"I think I remember the one that Grandpa used to sing to me. Would you like to >hear it?" >NO, you little rug rat! "Of course, dear." >She closed her eyes and hummed a few notes, then sang softly: ALL: Hello, whoa oh, Vienna calling! ZORAK: I am spending -way- too much time around you two. > "Close your eyes, little girl blue, > Sleep well in the city of saints, > The lights that shine throughout the night > Will keep the darkness at bay. GHOST: Ah, the classic A-B-C-D rhyme scheme. BRAK: This better not be a dirty limerick. > Then come to me, little girl blue, > When you can solve this song's riddle > I'll see you high above the sea, > I'll meet you in the middle." GHOST: Riddle me this, Batman! ZORAK: You know, except for me, your "rogues gallery" was pretty lame, Space Ghost. Where are all the cool villains like Joker, the Riddler... BRAK: I was always partial to King Tut, myself. GHOST: Well, I had all those energy creatures... ZORAK: Ah, yes. The ones that stood there and roared a lot. GHOST: Hey, not everyone can be Jack Nicholson. BRAK: Except for, you know, Christian Slater. >As she sang the last fine her eyes closed and her voice faded. >Negaduck left the room and shut the door quietly. If the kid didn't go to >sleep now he could always rock her to sleep - with a real rock. ZORAK: My Magna-Beam! WASTED on a ROCK! GHOST: What is it with you and Hordak, anyway? ZORAK: We did summer stock together back in Chicago. > He found >himself humming the tune of the lullaby to himself. Then, in his mind, >something snapped into focus. >He burst back into the lounge and yelled, "Launchpad! Do you have a map of the >state?" BRAK: Must be the same state Springfield's in. ZORAK: Yeah. Animated. >"Yeah." He did not look up from cleaning the bazooka. "So?" >"Listen, Einstein, you have no idea who that girl is, do you?" >"Whaddaya mean?" GHOST: Mastery of dialect is vitally important for any cartoon star. I, myself, have spent years mastering my Cantonese accent. ZORAK: LIAR! The closest you've come to Cantonese was when you spilled lo mein all over your lap. GHOST: And the subsequent scream of pain as the hot oil seeped through spandex was very authentic, I'll have you know. >"Have you ever heard of Zaslovium?" >"No." >"Of course you wouldn't have. Well, it's a powerful explosive. So powerful it >was hushed up by the Government as soon as it was developed. The man who >invented it was assassinated two years ago, and nobody managed to find out >where his lab was before he bit it, so now nobody has the stuff." BRAK: Um, I've got some. ZORAK: You've got Zaslovium? YOU'VE got Zaslovium? I've been trying to get some for years! BRAK: Yeah. I've got a bunch. Every month or so, they send me some more. ZORAK: I'm going to eviscerate the mailroom guy. So, where is it? BRAK: I used it up. On sandwiches. It makes 'em spicy. GHOST: That explains why the chair budget's so high for a planet with only three people on it. >"So?" >"So the man who developed it was named Waddlemeyer! GHOST: Hence the name, Zaslovium! > And you've managed to >kidnap his granddaughter, who was practically raised in his lab. Now get me >the map!" >Grumbling, Launchpad obeyed. Negaduck spread it out and began singing parts of >the lullaby. "'Sleep well in the city of saints' - Saint Canard! ZORAK: Oh, yeah. I can see that. Not St. Louis, St. Paul, Santa Cruz, San Francisco... BRAK: What about Sanrio? I think Keroppi's cool. ZORAK: Really? I'm more of a Bad Badtz-Maru man, myself. GHOST: Hello Kitty. Only the original will do. > 'The lights >that shine throughout the night'... the main city, not the suburbs. 'Keep the >darkness at bay'..." He looked around the map, then stabbed a finger at >Audubon Bay. BRAK: Hey, Space Ghost, I've got a question. GHOST: Of course you do. What is it? BRAK: Well, if in this duck-land, or bird land, or whatever it is, everything's named after ducks and birds, how come everything on Earth isn't named after monkeys? GHOST: Oh, well, that's simple... BRAK: Good. I like simple. GHOST: But, um, the story's still going on. I'll tell you later. BRAK: That's what you said about the birds and the bees. >"That wasn't a lullaby, it was an address!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "And >his lab's right here in St. Canard, somewhere along Audubon Bay!" >"So when do we go find it?" Launchpad asked. >"We?" Negaduck shot him a haughty look. "I'll find it alone, thank you very >much." BRAK: He's a guy. I heard girls like to all go to the laboratory together. > "Oh yeah?" he growled. "How you gonna get there? Riding that flashy little >scooter? The cops'll nail you the minute you set foot outa this slum." >The motorcycle WAS pretty distinctive ... and chances were they'd have an APB >out on him. The one time he managed to get some notice, and it was going to >screw him up! "Well, you got a better idea?" ZORAK: Yeah. Stop indulging Brak on his birthday. BRAK: That's not very nice. >It was Launchpad's turn to look haughty. "Sure do." >He led Negaduck down the stairwell to the ground floor. When he opened the >door to the lobby Negaduck stopped and stared. There, in the middle of the >lobby floor, was an airship. GHOST: The Phantom Cruiser? ZORAK: Ah, yes. An airship. Infinitely more subtle and less flashy than a motorcycle. The police will never notice a mysterious, beweaponed AIRSHIP flying over the city. GHOST: Two words, Zorak. Flying. Bomb. BRAK: Man's got a point. ZORAK: Oh, be quiet, birthday boy. >Launchpad walked up to it and tapped its side. "They won't be expecting >something like THIS!" >It was like nothing Negaduck had ever seen. It was built in the shape of a >duck's head, and streamlined for quick maneuvering. The thing was vicious >looking! GHOST: A vicious-looking duck head? Maybe if you're a bread crumb, this thing'd be scary. BRAK: A duck bit my sister once. ZORAK: Don't you meen a m00se? BRAK: No, the m00se bit my brother, Sisto. ZORAK: [sigh] The people in charge of sacking the people in charge of writing these jokes have been sacked. > He would not admit it, but he was impressed. Launchpad continued, >"I'm a pilot too. I can fly as well as I can shoot." He was quite pleased >by Negaduck's expression. BRAK: Dull surprise! GHOST: [chuckling] That was pretty good, Brak. BRAK: I've been watching tapes. >"And this baby can shoot too." >"Well... don't you think you've overlooked something?" >"What?" ZORAK: Like how the baby's going to keep up with the flying duck head?! >Negaduck shouted, "This thing's inside a building! How're you going to get >it out?!" >Launchpad patted the bill of the plane. "You'll see." GHOST: Maybe if they let a little bit of air out of each of the tires, then took one lug nut from each wheel... >Captain Kazaleh ALL: GESUNDHEIT! > arrived with his backup at the address. It was a boarded-up >apartment building. It was not empty, though - he could see lights on inside. GHOST: Through the boards, I presume. ZORAK: The cops have X-Ray vision, and they still haven't caught anyone. >He sent his men to cover all exits, with instructions to have their weapons >drawn. One of his men reported that the same motorcycle that Negaduck had >escaped on was parked by the fire escape. BRAK: And boy, was it flashy! >When they were all in place he raised the loudspeaker. BRAK: PUT ME DOWN! GHOST: No, Brak. "loudspeaker", not "loud speaker". It's a portable electronic device that amplifies your voice. BRAK: Oh, boy! I know what I want for Christmas! ZORAK: [muttering] We're doomed. >"THIS IS THE POLICE. WE HAVE THE BUILDING SURROUNDED. YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO >COME OUT WITH THE CHILD." >Negaduck snarled several words that this APA's editor will not print. BRAK: Boy, the American Psychological Association's really tightened up their standards and practices since they published my paper. ZORAK: Coincidence? Read the book. > Then he >said, "Get your peashooter. Target practice time!" He ran to Gosalyn's room >and grabbed her out of the bed. She was not fully awake when he carried her >back into the lobby. GHOST: Let's just hope the author will be keeping us updated on Gosalyn's awakeness level for the remainder of the story. >Launchpad was sitting in the ship. Negaduck screamed, "I said get ready with >the bazooka!" ZORAK: I SAID, THE NEW WINCH IS MUCH QUIETER! >He shook his head. "Get in the ship!" he yelled back. >"You idiot! There's no way to fly out!" >"Yes there is! You coming?!" >Negaduck said several more unprintable words as he swung Gosalyn up, then >climbed in himself. ZORAK: Climbed in himself? I always suspected Negaduck had his head crammed thoroughly up his... GHOST: That'll be quite enough of that conceptual rambling. ZORAK: Spoilsport. > Launchpad closed the dome of the ship and started the >engines. >Negaduck cringed involuntarily as the ship roared forward, towards the solid >cinderblock wall. GHOST: If this were an actual Darkwing Duck cartoon, airing in syndication or on the Disney Channel, now would be an excellent chance to fade to black and try to sell the viewers Batman and Robin movie toys. >Captain Kazaleh BRAK: GESUNDHEIT! [looks around] ... well, I think it's still funny. > dove out of the way as the front of the building exploded >outward. He narrowly missed being hit by the debris. >He stared after the airship as it climbed into the night sky, and shook his >head in shock. GHOST: [Kazaleh (GESUNDHEIT!)] I can't believe he made it look like a giant duck head. That's just plain goofy. >This case was going to be more difficult than he had thought. >Inside the ship, Launchpad enjoyed Negaduck's expression of amazement. He >gloated, "I told ya. This baby's solid, like a battering ram." ZORAK: Well, except for the hollow parts that are holding us. It's really more semisolid, like a chocolate bunny. >Negaduck managed, "I don't believe this! Where'd you get it?" >"I made it. Got bored with the stuff they had me flyin', back when I worked for >McDuck, so I made my own." BRAK: I made it look like a duck's head. Do you think that was too much? ZORAK: A two-bit criminal who can't pull off a kidnapping, but manages to construct an airship. What is it with stupid villains and their occasional, creepy flashes of brilliance? BRAK: Don't ask me, I just work here. And you don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps! GHOST: You're a regular Dilbert, Brak. >"What else can it do?" >Launchpad pulled it into a nosedive over a small wooded area. Seconds before it >was to smash into the ground he grabbed another control while pulling up >sharply on the steering wheel. ZORAK: That's gotta be tough to do during a high-speed chase. GHOST: That's two. [raises power bands threateningly] ZORAK: Memo to self. No "She Bop" or "Turning Japanese" references for remainder of fanfic. > A burst of flame exploded from the trees as >they roared back into the sky. >"Like I said, it's got ammo." he grinned. ZORAK: You never said anything about its ammo! Who's in charge of continuity here? GHOST: Speaking of continuity, what color ARE you exactly, Zorak? BRAK: Zorak actually reflects a wider range of the electromagnetic spectrum than most other arthropods, resulting in his varied, multi-hued appearance to species with rod/cone styled optical apparatus. ZORAK: See what I mean? It's just creepy, is all. BRAK: I read that in a FAQ somewhere, I think. >The ship cruised for some time. Neither of them had a destination in mind. Then >Negaduck remembered the map stuck in his pocket. He unfolded it, looked it >over, and said, "Launchpad. Let's go back-" >Launchpad looked at him as if he were insane. "Go BACK? What for?" GHOST: Go back for the big savings at your local Ford dealership! ZORAK: Oh, cut it out, prima donna. You're never going to do lucrative commercial voiceover work. GHOST: A ghost can dream, can't he? BRAK: This is Brak, for Hormel Chili! It makes me puffy, but I eat it anyway. ZORAK: You've gotten him started again. How many times to I have to warn you about that? GHOST: I need another break. My hinder's getting sore. ZORAK: At least you have ample padding. [Door Sequence] BRAK: Aaay, bon giorno, ev'rybody! This is-a Brak-a and it's time for Learnin' to Make-a Fun-a Movies. Lesson-a one. ZORAK: If you were watching Starship Troopers, and Casper Van Diem appeared on screen, you would say, "Aryan Slabface!" GHOST: Aryan Slabface! ZORAK: And, were you forced to endure Event Horizon, you would say, "That's a stupid chair!" GHOST: That's a stupid chair! That's a stupid chair! Hey, lookit me, Brak! I'm makin' fun of movies! BRAK: I hate to shoot a butt like that! ZORAK: Yes, Space Ghost. And if YOU were up on the screen in there, Tom Servo would say "Space Ghost resembles a crimson-tailboned species of primate, only drastically increased in size, ignoring the square cube law." GHOST: Square-cube law? What's that mean? ZORAK: Space Ghost is a big baboon! GHOST: Oh, yeah? ZORAK: Yeah! GHOST: Yeah, well, if I just happened to see YOU up on that screen, y'know what I'd say? ZORAK: What? GHOST: I wouldn't say anything. I'd just zap you. ZORAK: Why you - aaaahhh! [Space Ghost zaps Zorak] ZORAK: (coughs) Uhhh... BRAK: Write what you know, that's what I always say. HEY! WE'VE GOT DUCK SIGN!!!!! [Door Sequence] >"Not back to the building, back to St. Canard. I wanna find that lab." He >pointed at the area he had circled. "Audubon Bay. That's where it'll be!" >"No problem-o." He pulled the plane around in a wide arc. ZORAK: This vehicle makes wide right turns. BRAK: Hey, that sounds familiar. Didn't I see that on the back of Space Ghost's tights last week? GHOST: That was YOU, Zorak? I didn't know you could embroider. ZORAK: I have many hidden talents. Muahahahaha! GHOST: I'm going to have to apologize to Lokar, I think. >The blip in the radar screen suddenly swung around in a semicircle. It was now >headed back in the direction from which it had come. GHOST: In addition, it had made a complete 180, and was returning from whence it came. BRAK: Why'd you put Blip in the radar screen, Space Ghost? >When Captain Kazaleh heard the report over the radio he shook his head in >disbelief. ZORAK: Carmen Electra and Dennis Rodman? You gotta be kidding me. > He had thought that it was fleeing the city; why were they turning >back? Never mind that - time for action, not for deliberation. And time to >pull out the heavy artillery. ZORAK: That's gotta be tough to do during a high-speed chase. GHOST: You were warned. [zaps Zorak] BRAK: Hey! Leave him alone. It's my birthday, remember? And why does Zorak keep talkin' about high speed chases? GHOST: Sorry, Brak. ZORAK: [coughing] I'll tell you later. >The St. Canard skyline came into view. As they approached Launchpad asked, "So >where we gonna search?" >"The bay..." He was thinking hard. Then he remembered that he had brought >Gosalyn with them. GHOST: So she could do his thinking for him! Brilliant! > He turned back to see her trying bravely to remain calm in >the back seat. "Gosalyn, dear, you remember the second verse of that lullaby >you sang? Could you sing it again?" ZORAK: Oh, yes. Please, tiny duck, regale us with the incredibly clue-ridden second verse of your father's alleged lullaby. Perhaps we can get Yanni to play a harp in the background. Wouldn't that be nice? Sheesh. >"Now?" she asked, surprised. >"NOW!" > "Then come to me, little girl blue, > When you can solve this song's riddle > I'll see you high above the sea, > I'll meet you in the middle." >She sang with a nervous quaver in her voice. GHOST: Even she knew it didn't scan. ZORAK: Fft. Fire your expensive team of songwriters, and see how far you get, Captain Minstrel. BRAK: I like Minstrel, with the little noodles in it. Wait. I'm thinkin' of Minestrone. > He listened closely, trying to >detect any further clues. When she finished he shook his head and looked back >at the windscreen. Nothing. "Just keep going." he grumbled to Launchpad. GHOST: What kind of mileage you think one of them flying duck heads gets, anyhow? >The city was plainly visible in the night because of the lights. The tower >building showed as a speckling of lit windows topped with a light to warn away >airplanes. ZORAK: Nothing worse than a giant duck head smashing into your tower. BRAK: Boy, I bet that's tough to do during a high speed chase... I don't get it. Did I do it right? GHOST: Close enough, Brak. > The smaller tower of the bay bridge also sported similar lights. >Staring at the bridge, Negaduck thought sourly that they would have to wait >until the morning to begin their search. Even the protective cover of night >and the city lights wouldn't help him this time. GHOST: I use the protective cover of night to keep dust and donut crumbs off of my keyboard. ZORAK: I use spray-on night. It forms a protective cover over my delicate leather and vinyl surfaces. BRAK: I'm... I'm scared of the dark, mostly. >The bridge tower was coming closer. And closer. And CLOSER. GHOST: Duck! ZORAK: Space Ghost, EVERYONE and EVERYTHING in this story is a duck. BRAK: Hey, Zorak... Duck Duck Goose or Duck Duck Gray Duck? ZORAK: Beefaroni, or Beefaghetti? GHOST: Fasten, zip or zip, fasten? ZORAK: I'm not having THIS conversation, either. >"LAUNCHPAD!" Negaduck yelled. At the last moment be turned the plane just >enough to avoid a collision. "You maniac! You trying to kill us all?!" >"Just waking you up." he replied, not wanting to admit that his attention >had been wandering. BRAK: HEY! ZORAK: HEY! GHOST: [nervous] Just because he uses it as an excuse, doesn't mean I do. I'm a good driver. >"Idiot. You ought to be named 'Psychopad'." ZORAK: Psychopad. Available now for Playstation and N64. BRAK: Do you think I look a little like Crash Bandicoot? I don't see it myself, but some guy in the lunchroom kept buggin' me to break open a crate for him. >Launchpad considered. "Psychopad... I like that." >"You would." He watched as the bridge tower faded in the distance. Soon it was >visible only as a spark of light. GHOST: Is this the part where we clap our hands so that Tinkerbell will live? >The rest of it clicked into place! >"Launchpad! Turn back! The bridge tower!" Negaduck shouted excitedly. >"Huh?" ZORAK: Launchpad, for once, you speak for us all. >"The bridge tower! 'I'll see you high above the sea, I'll meet you in the >middle!' The towers are above the water, in the middle of the bridge! BRAK: There's a wart on the frog on the log above the water in the middle of the bridge! >Back to the bridge!" GHOST: Starring Frankie Avalon and Annette Funichello! ZORAK: Starring Patrick Stewart, William Shatner, and Kate Mulgrew! BRAK: Starring Alyson Hannigan and Amanda Pays! ZORAK: What does -that- have to do with anything? BRAK: I just think they're pretty. >When they neared the tower Negaduck suddenly realized that there was no place >to land. "Crud. How're we going to get in there?" >"No problem-o. Leave that to me." Launchpad replied coolly. GHOST: Why is it every time he says "No problem-o", somehting's about to be destroyed? ZORAK: Nice of him to give us the warning, at least. >He aimed right for the tower. The ship's bill rammed through, punching a hole >into the inside and holding the ship in place after Launchpad shut the engines >off. He opened the dome. GHOST: Guess that ship has a pretty big... damage bill! Get it? It's a bill, because it's a giant duck's head! ZORAK: You truly are the king of lame night. GHOST: Hm? ZORAK: Late night. I said "late night". >They crawled through the hole. Negaduck looked around. As his eyes adjusted to >the dim light he saw that he had been right! This WAS Waddlemeyer's lab! >"Launchpad! We found it!" BRAK: Eureka! Doctor Livingston, it's you! Hey, doc! It hurts when I move my arm like this! So he gave me an aspirin. ZORAK: Hooray. They found the secret high-explosives lab by crashing into it. It's a good thing the author's on their side. >"Yeah." He could barely see. As Negaduck began searching Launchpad crawled >back into the airship. He turned on the floodlights and went back into the >tower. "Thought I'd shed a little light on the subject." BRAK: A little light! Hahahahahah! He's almost as funny as you are, Space Ghost. GHOST: Thanks, Brak... I think. >They looked through the lab. Negaduck had a pretty good idea of what he was >searching for would look like. ZORAK: Hopefully, what he would be finding out would be looking pretty good like his idea around what he wanted. > Launchpad, browsing around, tried to appear as >if he had as much purpose. The harsh lighting from the ship turned the lab into >a stark jumble of light and shadow, complicating their search. GHOST: I guess you can shed too much light on a subject, after all. [Crow wanders in at the left] >After a few minutes Launchpad asked, "What did Waddlemeyer used to wear?" CROW: Launchpad: phone-necrophiliac. ZORAK: What are you doing here, Goldenrod? CROW: Just thought I'd let you guys know we've got cake and ice cream for after the movie. BRAK: Oh boy! [Crow leaves] >"I dunno. Who cares." Negaduck replied, annoyed at the distraction. ZORAK: I know how he feels. >"Did he wear a brown jacket and blue pants?" >"I DON'T KNOW! WHO CARES!" ALL: THIRD BASE! >"Think I know why they never found him." Launchpad was looking at an area of >the floor that Negaduck could not see. He bent down and picked something out >of a shirt pocket. ZORAK: Hm. Duck skeleton. Maybe I should make another batch of soup. GHOST: Zorak, that's cruel! BRAK: I remember that soup. It came out pretty good, Zorak. Did you use saffron? ZORAK: Nah, too expensive. I substituted Mrs. Dash. GHOST: Zorak, that's cruel! ZORAK: The salt substitute, you idiot. Not Mrs. Dash herself! >Negaduck had found what he was looking for. It came in the form of a >spiral-bound notebook and two full vials of fluid. The book identified the >contents of the vials as chemicals which, when mixed, would form Zaslovium. BRAK: What was Laslo... Zalmium... Vaseline... what was that stuff supposed to do again? GHOST: I can't remember. It's the point of the whole story, though. ZORAK: [sighs] It's an explosive. It blows stuff up reeeeeeal good. When certain people aren't confusing it with horseradish, that is. >He grabbed the book and the vials, then as an afterthought took a box of empty >vials with rubber stoppers as well. GHOST: On the way out, he also grabbed some pencils, a few paper clips, and a tape dispenser for his desk. >Then the lights suddenly grew brighter. He looked up through the tower windows >to see helicopter-mounted searchlights glaring down on them. In his eagerness >he hadn't paid attention to the steadily increasing whirring sound of the >helicopters' propellers! BRAK: One-ADAM-12, see the duck head, see the duck head sticking out of the bridge. > Launchpad dove under a lab table out of reflex. >Negaduck shouted, "You can't hide in here! Let's go!" >"They'll shoot us down out there!" Launchpad shouted over the roaring of the >helicopters. >"No they won't! I told you hostages come in handy!" ZORAK: That's our Gosalyn. Two feet, two inches of cute, feathered plot contrivance. >They scrambled back into the airship and broke it free from the tower. "Fly >over the city!" Negaduck ordered as he flipped through the notebook. "Can you >get the channel the police radio is on?" GHOST: Not without buying the Added Value Package. BRAK: Which Mr. Cheapskate Space Ghost refuses to do, by the way, so not only can we not watch our own show, but I have to go on the Internet and ask for tapes of the Powerpuff Girls. ZORAK: You're on the Internet, Brak? BRAK: Sssh. Don't tell anyone. I mostly lurk. >"Yep." He tapped a button. >It was already set to the proper frequency. Imagine that, Negaduck thought. He >found what he was looking for in the book, and poured a few drops of each >liquid into an empty vial. ZORAK: This is no time to be disinfecting your contact lenses. > He sealed it with a stopper and swirled it carefully >to mix the chemicals without setting them off. BRAK: Then, he sealed it with a kiss. >"Okay - I gotta drop this-" GHOST: Couldn't you have gone BEFORE we left? >Launchpad pulled a lever and the dome flipped up. Taken by surprise, Negaduck >squinted into the wind. "Moron! You trying to throw us out?" >"The dome'd catch you." Launchpad jerked a thumb at it. GHOST: Not if it's a Bill Buckner brand dome. >"Take us low!" Negaduck ducked down below the control panel, where the wind >was not so bad. When the dive leveled out he threw the vial out and cried, >"Close it!" >Launchpad did. Negaduck waited, his eyes on the spot where he had dropped the >vial. After ten seconds he flipped frantically through the notebook again. >"There should be a crater down there!" BRAK: No, the Crater Maker is down, down, up, R2. ZORAK: That didn't help you much during the Ghost Planet Vigilante 8 tournament, Brak. BRAK: I kept driving into the walls. I think my controller's broke. Say, has Lokar taken down his trophy yet? He beat you pretty good in the finals. ZORAK: Stupid disco ball... >"Oh." Launchpad was not paying attention. >Negaduck looked up, infuriated. Launchpad was looking through a wallet. >Negaduck was about to commit an act of violence against the pilot when the >hull pinged as if spattered with gravel. GHOST: Did it pang just like Spat and Grovel? ZORAK: Maybe it hung up its shovel in the grotto. BRAK: Maybe they're being shot at. >"They're shooting at us!" Negaduck yelped. BRAK: Hey, I was right! ZORAK: Savor the moment. > He looked out the windscreen and >saw that a fleet of military helicopters closing in. "Does this thing have a >loudspeaker?" GHOST: It's got at least three loudmouths by my last count. Will that do? >"I know, the hull can take it. And it doesn't. You wanna talk to the fuzz?" >"YES!" >"Talk on the radio." He pointed to CB microphone that was crudely attached to >the radio. Negaduck snatched it and pushed the switch. "This is Negaduck! >Back off! Touch us and we ace the kid in here!" BRAK: They're gonna turn her into a member of KISS? ZORAK: Maybe they'll just card her. >There was general confusion on the channel for a minute. Then a clear voice cut >through. "Is this the flying bogey?" BRAK: Hey, guys, wanna see a flying bogey? GHOST: NO! ZORAK: NO! BRAK: Just askin'. >"Right. We're a tank with wings. We can take anything your weapons can dish >out in this thing-" he said, bluffing shamelessly, "but tick us off and we >might dump out our hostage." GHOST: First it's a flying duck head, now it's a tank with wings, what is this, a Transformer? BRAK: [sings] More than meets the eye! Oddathings wage a something to destroy, the something forces of the Desomethingcons. ZORAK: Brakwave, eject. >There was a brief silence on the line. Then the same voice replied, "You have >no hostage. Land at once or you will be shot down." >They weren't buying the bluff! He turned and beckoned to Gosalyn. "Come here." BRAK: Wait. If they have a hostage, how is it a bluff? GHOST: Brak, has the story made a lot of sense so far? BRAK: Well, no. GHOST: Then why should it start now? >Trembling, she obeyed. He sat her on his lap. "Open the dome." BRAK: It's sunny, and we wanna play baseball. >Negaduck spoke into the radio again. "Take a look. It would be tragic if this >sweet little girl were to meet with an accident, now wouldn't it?" He held her >up, then heard a whirring noise behind himself that was steadily increasing in >volume and turned to see one of the helicopters approaching them from the back. ZORAK: It's Airwolf. Or Blue Thunder. GHOST: Or maybe Automan. But last I heard, they'd reposessed his helicopter. >He abruptly pitched her over the edge. BRAK: See, I thought they were playin' baseball. It been bery bery good to me! >She cried out as she realized she was failing. Her scream cut off abruptly as >the airship swooped down and caught her on its bill seconds before she hit the >pavement. Before she could slide off Negaduck pulled her back in. Into the >microphone he said, "Just keep it up, and it's street pizza for dinner!" ZORAK: Cartoon physics. Gotta love 'em. Only thing kept me alive this long. >He put the speaker down, satisfied. Gosalyn huddled in his lap, shaking >violently. Negaduck patted her head and said, "Don't worry, kid. You'll be >safe as long as the police keep their distance." GHOST: Or someone gets a hankering for street pizza. >Gosalyn wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his chest. >Negaduck winced. He forced himself to put his arms around her. Better soothe >the kid or she'll have hysterics and get REALLY annoying, he thought. ZORAK: Some villain. Always managing to find these excuses to display compassion. How conveeeeeenient. > "Fly us >over a residential area and keep us there." he commanded. Even if their little >demonstration did not have the desired effect, at least the police would think >twice before shooting them down where the debris would likely kill innocent >people. GHOST: But these are the Negaverse police, so, would they really care all that much? ZORAK: I don't think it works like Bizarro World. BRAK: I took my vacation on Bizarro World once. I went to Bizarro Disneyland. They gave me money, I didn't have to wait in line, the shops sold products from other companies, and I had a great time! >Launchpad guided the ship over a suburb and set it to circle on automatic >pilot. The helicopters followed at a distance. When Gosalyn had calmed down >he sent her to the back seat again and started flipping rapidly through the >notebook. ZORAK: The plot resolution's got to be in here -somewhere-. > After a minute Launchpad said, "Aw, crud, the geezer didn't have >nothin' on him! Just a buncha junk." >"Will you stop-" Then he caught sight of some papers in the wallet where the >money was usually placed. He snatched them up and examined them. GHOST: Of course! Zaslovium isn't an explosive after all! I'ts a fat-free dessert! >A grin spread across his face. He listened calmly to the threats pouring in >through the radio as he mixed several more vials of Zaslovium. BRAK: Those cops are gonna LOVE the way this tastes. > Then he picked >up the microphone. "This is Negaduck. I'm ready to surrender, just don't shoot >me down. I'll land in front of the police headquarters." ZORAK: Zaslovium for everyone! Boys and girls! Moms and Dads! Everyone loves the rich, chocolatey taste of Zaslovium! >Launchpad looked at him in shock. "WHAT?! After all that!?" >Negaduck's smile took on a predatory look. "Just watch and see." GHOST: Hm. He still sounds evil. Maybe there's actually some fat in Zaslovium! You fiend! ZORAK: Crushing a superhero's dreams like that... wish I'd thought of it. >The airship approached the station at low altitude. Captain Kazaleh raced it in >his car, hoping to be there when it arrived. He had coordinated this attack, >and he wanted to be there to toss Negaduck into jail personally. ZORAK: Yes, the long, carefully built-up rivalry between Negaduck and Kazaleh Gesundheit will finally be paying off. >As it reached the station he saw it hover briefly. The dome opened slightly >and a figure inside dropped something. Then a ball of flame erupted where the >police headquarters used to be. BRAK: I didn't do it! GHOST: I think the police cafeteria was serving Supremo Burritos again. >He had finally carried through on his threats to destroy the station. Kazaleh >thought moodily that at least Negaduck had been caught in the explosion too. ZORAK: A little extra carnage always warms ol' K.G.'s heart. >Then he saw the speck speeding out of the ball of flame into the sky. GHOST: A... duck-shaped speck, perhaps? BRAK: I thought Speck was Captain Kirk's friend. >"YES!" Negaduck yelled joyously. He picked up the speaker and barked his final >message to the forces of Law and Order in St. Canard. BRAK: ALL HAIL BRAK!!!!! ZORAK: Cut that out. GHOST: How about... "We Apologize For The Inconvenience" >"LOSERS!" ZORAK: I hear ya, Negaduck. >He laughed maniacally as he looked at the receding flames. BRAK: All of the flames are, in some way, going to be receding... to die... ZORAK: That's all we need. M. Brakky. >Launchpad looked at him with undisguised admiration. "You actually DID it!" GHOST: Darn you all to hell! You darn dirty apes! >Negaduck grinned evilly. "Yep." >"Why wouldn't it work the first time?" ZORAK: The story was a dozen paragraphs too short, I reckon. >"It was on that paper in his wallet that to set it off you need to run an >electrical current through it. Guess Waddlemeyer didn't want anyone raiding >the lab and using the Zaslovium, so he decided to keep the trigger a secret. BRAK: A secret... on papers... GHOST: ...in his lab... ZORAK: ...right near the Zaslovium. Some brilliant scientist. >So I aimed for the power lines." Negaduck said smugly. ZORAK: Luckily, the vials were a special, conducting glass. BRAK: You mean Philip? >He continued after a suitably dramatic pause. "Now, I think it's time to play >with our new toy." BRAK: They call it a Furby. It babbles incessantly at you, and learns things slowly. ZORAK: Where -did- the fine people of Tiger get that idea? >Launchpad looked at him, puzzled. "Huh?" >"Don't worry about it." He was mixing up more of the chemical in the vials. >"Just fly over to City Hall." GHOST: But you can't fight City Hall! ZORAK: No, but you can blow it to smithereens! >He smirked as it came into view. Once he had paralyzed St. Canard by >eliminating the government, military installations, and power sources, it >would be just ready for him to take over. ZORAK: Think, man! Then, all you've got is a chaotic, rancid hole with no infrastructure! Why would you want to take that over! Do something clever, like... like... BRAK: Like a flying bomb? ZORAK: Just drop it. Just drop the flying bomb. >Whoever has the biggest toys wins. GHOST: What kind of moral is that for your story? The bad guys kill hundreds, get away, and win? That's not a very good attitude to have towards evil. I think I need to find this, this "Kim McFarland" and give her a stern talking to. If that's her real name. ZORAK: I'm sure she's just quakin' in her boots, lying awake nights wondering when she might be struck down by the sheer force of your dressing down. GHOST: Don't think I can't recognize sarcasm after I've heard it for a few years, bug. Can we go yet? BRAK: No! There's still the credits and the disclaimer! They're the best part. >***** BRAK: I see stars. GHOST: [muttering] You'll see 'em again soon. >All characters copyright (c) Disney, except Captain Jack Kazaleh, who is >copyright (c) Kim McFarland. ZORAK: She came up with the character after discovering she was allergic to ducks and policemen. > Permission is given to copy this story, provided >no changes are made to the story or the credits, and that it is not sold. >Enjoy! GHOST: Um... no changes? Not even a couple? ZORAK: Busted! You're goin' down, buddy! GHOST: Maybe I won't visit Kim after all. Anyway, this was Brak's idea. >I have plenty more stories, in the Darkwing Duck and NegaDuckTales series - >if you are interested, drop me a line at Negaduck9@aol.com! BRAK: More duck stories? Hooray! When's my next birthday, Space Ghost? GHOST: 2014. BRAK: I'll be countin' the days. Well, the first dozen or so. Then I'll probably lose track. ZORAK: Come on. Let's go get some cake. [Door Sequence] [The SOL bridge is decked out with streamers, balloons, and the like. A big banner across the back wall proclaims, "Happy Birthday, Brak!" All stand around eating cake and drinking root beer.] MIKE: So, Brak, was it everything you dreamed it would be? BRAK: Pretty much, I guess. It wasn't as bad as the other story, but there was a lot more of it, so it kind of balanced out. GHOST: I don't know how you guys do it, day in, day out, hundreds of bad movies and TV shows and stories and spams and rants and such. CROW: Well, you kind of get used to it after a while. TOM: Plus, we don't actually have a choice in the matter. Hey, you're a superhero, right? Aren't you supposed to right wrongs and fight injustices? How 'bout you give us a hand? CROW: Yeah, he's right! You're morally obligated to save our hinders. GHOST: Well, I would, and all, but... MIKE: There's always a but, isn't there. ZORAK: And it's usually planted in front of the TV. GHOST: Quiet, bug. Anyway, as I was saying, I would help you, but, well, years will go by, and, frankly, Brak's impossible to shop for. ZORAK: What do you get the cat that knows nothing? GHOST: And I want to keep my options open. BRAK: [muffled by cake] Fank Oo, Bafe Gofe. TOM: What a gyp. CROW: Some superhero. GYPSY: He's our guest! We should be nice to him. MIKE: Gypsy's right, guys... GYPSY: Even if he's a big fraud. ZORAK: [cackles evilly] I like you guys, even if you're not evil. [Mads light flashes] MIKE: And speaking of evil... [hits button] [In Castle Forrester, stacks and piles of magazines are everywhere. Pearl, Bobo and Observer are nowhere to be seen, although their voices can be heard.] BOBO: I'm gonna win the boom box for sure! PEARL: Who ordered 100 subscriptions to "Highlights for Kids?" BRAIN: Oh, that was me. I can't get enough of Goofus and Gallant. [A crash is heard] Pearl, your Playgirls fell over again. PEARL: I'm never going to get the powder room wallpapered at this rate. I'll be right over as soon as I finish shoring up the Cat Fancy. Wait a sec. We don't even -have- a cat. [Pearl breaks through to camera] PEARL: Have you guys been ordering magazines from Bobo? MIKE: Not us. Well, not some of us. CROW: Busted. GHOST: Oh, that was us. Guess they got the wrong shipping address. If you could just forward all the copies of Cat Fancy, Space Pirate Weekly, Discover, Men's Health... did you order any, Zorak? ZORAK: Just the Wall Street Journal. For the next decade. And I put it on your account, Pearl. Hope you don't mind. From one evil villain to another? PEARL: That's the last time I go easy on you three. Count the days, Space Cheese, Soreass and Bark, because I will have my revenge. And as for you, Nelspawn, you'll get yours too. I'm sure I've got Ratliff's "Seventh Fleet" buried around here somewhere. Bobo! Look under that pile of Starlogs! BOBO: OK, Lawgiver! [A rumbling noise is heard, and an avalanche of paper buries Pearl] [Fade to Black] PEARL: Some days you get the goat, and some days, the goat gets you. CREDITS: MSTing by Bryan Lambert Original story by Kim McFarland, used by request and with permission, so Tad can rest easy on that count. Mystery Science Theater 3000 and all related characters, ideas, and thingies are, of course, the exclusive trademark and property of Best Brains Inc, and are used herein strictly for fun, not for profit. Give them your money, not me. The above also applies to Space Ghost/Zorak/Brak/Lokar/Creature King, etc and Cartoon Network/Ghost Planet Industries/Hanna Barbera/Turner/Time-Warner respectively. Reading this on my web site, The Messy Canvas? Then you can find many more MSTings by many talented authors on Web Site #9, at http://pinky.wtower.com/mst3k/mistings.shtml. Reading this at Web Site #9? Then visit The Messy Canvas, my web site, with fake news, MSTings, random bits of comedy, and the always growing Moron Shrine, at http://www1.minn.net/~bryncthy. Reading this somewhere else? I'm damned surprised. Let me know where you saw it. Special thanks to Kim McFarland, whose "Brak's Scriptbook" site provided the foundation for the two middle host segments. Feedback should be sent to bryncthy@minn.net, and feel free to use Web Site #9's rating system. And remember, if you enjoyed reading this just half as much as I enjoyed writing this, then I enjoyed it twice as much as you. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ >It was like nothing Negaduck had ever seen. It was built in the shape of a >duck's head, and streamlined for quick maneuvering. The thing was vicious >looking!