[NOTE: If you haven't seen the video to Nine Inch Nails' "closer," run to your nearest MTV outlet. Watch it and take notes. Then come back here. We'll wait for you. Promise!]
INT SOL.
MIKE: Whoops, Fripp and Eno are calling... (Hits call button)
INT DEEP 13.
DR. F: Greetings, Crow D., Flavorless Flav, Tominator X. Something a little
different today, punkies: Frank was trying to write a shell script
on the mads.deep-13.com server and accidentally crosswired
alt.tv.beavis-n-butthead and alt.music.nin, so you'll be getting
your first music video today.
INT SOL.
MIKE: (Butt-head voice) Huh huh. He said "script." Huh huh huh...
CROW: (Beavis voice) Yeah. Hmm hmm mmm hmm...
TOM: (Mr. Anderson voice) Whut th' hell?
INT DEEP 13.
DR. F: Joke while you can, Martha Quinn, this'll be a _killing_ joke!
No, not the _band_ Killing Joke -- I mean Nine Inch Nails.
(Draws himself up and points at camera) Bow down before the one
you serve!
FRANK: You're going to get what you deserve...
DR. F: I bring you "closer" -- to PAIN. Send 'em the video, Frank.
INT SOL.
(Movie light/buzzer goes off)
ALL: AAAAAIIIGH, WE HAVE BUZZ CLIP SIGN!!!!
6...5...4...3...2...1...
(Heart letting off steam)
CROW: What is this, the Jarvik 6?
TOM: When I asked for a plate of "steamers," I wasn't expecting _this!_
(Bald lady with eggs spinning on fingers)
MIKE: Hey, it's Edie the egg lady!
(Trent holds nautilus shell)
CROW: I can never remember -- is that a nautilus shell or a conch shell?
TOM: Hey Mike, they "conched" him on the noggin, too!
MIKE: Don't remind me...
(Millipede crawling around)
ALL: RAAAAAAAID!!
(Man behind ticket window)
MIKE: Ladies and gentleman, the president of TicketMaster!
TOM: Thank you, thank you. A ten dollar per ticket service charge is
more than fair, and Pearl Jam are just a bunch of whining dickweeds...
(Crucified monkey)
CROW: "Rhesus To Be Cheerful, Part 3."
(Trent dangles from midair)
TOM: Thunderbirds are Alternative!
CROW: He's wearing the Playtex "No Visible Means of Support" jockstrap.
(Committee of old men)
CROW: Hi, we're from the PMRC. Tipper wants to make sure you don't do anything...y'know..._nasty._
MIKE: "Grumpy Old Men."
TOM: It's the Franz Kafka Appreciation Society!
(Blurred nude woman posing with steer skull)
CROW: FOCUS!
MIKE: Uh, I think that's the point.
CROW: Huh? Oh. Saaaaaayyy....
(Trent claws at himself)
TOM: Nurse? Some Prozac for Mr. Reznor, please.
(Trent sings "You can't have my everything!")
MIKE: Of course I don't want everything! Where would I put it?
(Machine with pig head on top)
TOM: Pork -- The Other Erector Set!
CROW: Pigbot?
MIKE: Don't worry, pig lovers, we didn't use a real pig!
CROW: Yes we did!
MIKE: Uh -- okay, but it was just this once...
(Moray eels swimming)
TOM: ...plus two heels, an L, and an electric eel.
CROW: Ah, here it is! "Long-nailed man fears for brain..."
(Little girl lounging on chair)
TOM: Alice In Reznorland!
CROW: Kathy Ireland -- The Preschool Years!
MIKE: (dirty old man voice) Hey, little girl, wanna be the next Tawny
Kitaen?
(Man in top hat holding cow's tongue)
BOTS: (singing) "Smelly tongues/look just how they felt..."
(Hand operating old-fashioned adding machine)
MIKE: ...fifty thousand for payola this week, eight thou for the cocaine...
(Trent buffetted in wind tunnel)
TOM: Major John Paul Strapp -- The Musical!
(Film catches and burns up in frame)
CROW: (disgusted) Union projectionist...
(Man blows dust off top hat)
ALL: *cough!* *cough!* *choke!* *gasp!* *wheeze!*
(A dangling Trent plays piano at the end)
CROW: "Trent Plays Tori Amos -- Badly!"
TOM: Madame Sousatzka, I'm ready for my lesson now...
(Final shot of burning candles)
MIKE: Extinguish your candles! (Where applicable...)
CROW: I'm getting closer...to nausea. Let's go.
1...2...3...4...5...6...
INT SOL.
TOM: Well. Scar ME for life, why don't you?
CROW: You get the feeling the wrong band did "I Hate Myself And I Want
To Die..."
MIKE: Come on, guys, it wasn't THAT traumatic. Didn't you enjoy the
faux-antique cinematography? The nods to Man Ray and Mark
Pauline?
CROW: Not to mention self-loathing so thick you could eat it with a fork!
TOM: Yeah, but use a spoon -- you'll want to gouge out every last drop
of your spleen!
MIKE: Teenyboppers. (Call light flashes) What do you think, sirs?
INT DEEP 13.
(Frank is dangling from a wire. A drum synthesizer thumps mournfully in
the background)
FRANK: Oh, I'm so depressed. Oh, my life sucks. Oh...
(Dr. Forrester comes into view)
DR. F: Well, Depeche Mode, I see that clip left you thoroughly "Broken."
(Chuckles at his little joke) Now if you'll excuse us, I have to
have Frank "Fixed"...
(Dr. Forrester pushes Frank away. Frank swings back, slams into Dr.
Forrester and pushes him into the control panel...)
---------------------------*---------------------------
PARALEGAL VIDEO-CREDITS-IN-THE-LOWER-LEFT-HAND-CORNER-OF-THE-SCREEN
DEPT: "MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000," its characters and situations
are (c) Best Brains Inc. Nine Inch Nails and "closer" are (c)
Nothing/TVT/Interscope records.
All rights reserved.
All slights
deserved.
Intended as satire (which will probably be lost on Trent,
but so what).
The author has opted NOT to crosspost this on
alt.music.nin for fear that he will be burned at the stake...