T H E T A L E O F P E T E R R A B B I T ----------------------------------------------- with Short: Easter is Pagan --------------- A MiSTing by Jim Gadfly gadfly@angelfire.com Published March 15, 2002 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 In the not-too-distant future In another reality Mike Nelson and his robot pals Are still in captivity Still held by that evil Pearl Forester With Professor Bobo and Observer Still trapped in the Satellite of Love The experiment continues as they orbit high above Pearl sends them rants and fanfics, Spam and other assorted things (la-la-la) Mike and the 'bots must read it all No matter what pain it brings (la-la-la) In this world Sci-Fi can't control When the series will ever end. Mike may spend all eternity Trapped with his robot friends E-bay Recall: Cambot (Are we back on?!) Gypsy (Great phoenix!) Tom Servo (Re-check me out!) Croooow! (We're the same!) If you're wondering why I write this stuff Since the series bid life farewell, The answer is that I loved that show And Sci-Fi can go to -- Wisconsin! (Woooo Packers!) Long live Mystery Science Theater 3000! (Guitar twang) ...o...2...3...4...5...6...* [Satellite of Love (SOL). Bridge. MIKE is standing behind the console, holding an Easter basket filled with eggs in usual Easter egg colors and designs.] MIKE: [To us] Hello, everybody. Welcome to the Satellite of love. This year, to celebrate the Easter season, Crow, Tom and I have decided to have a little Easter egg painting contest-- [TOM slides in from stage right. He is wearing housepainter's coveralls with a small, matching hat. He is carrying an Easter basket filled with eggs, each painted a different shade of a white wallpaint color.] TOM: [Excitedly] Okay, Nelson, I'm ready for you! MIKE: [Looking down at TOM's basket, a bit perplexed] Uh, Tom, you've painted all these different shade of white wallpaint-- TOM: Yes-sireee! I've got a selection of everything from high white glossy to flat eggshell white. That last was pretty easy, actually. MIKE: But, Tom, that's not how you paint Easter eggs! TOM: [Taken aback] Ooooh? And so *you're* a recognized expert on the art of Easter egg painting? MIKE: Well, no, but-- [They are interrupted as CROW enters from stage left. He is dressed in an artist's smock and black beret, and has a black fake moustache on the front of his beak. He is carrying a basket of eggs also. Each each has a small reproduction of a famous painting on it.] CROW: [Speaking with a French access] Gentlemen, gentlemen, pleeeze! Art-eeests should not squabble amongst themselves zo! MIKE: [Looking over CROW's basket] My goodness, Crow! [Picks up an egg that has a small Mona Lisa painted on on it] This is all really very impressive and all, but it's not eactly what I had in mind, either. CROW: [Indignanly, still speaking with an accent] Iz zat zo? Zo you are attempting to limit the expres-si-ons of an art-eeest, to take it upon yourself to define the par-am-e-taires of what iz and iz not art?! MIKE: Well, no, I wouldn't exactly say that, but-- TOM: Uh, Crow, do you mean to say that you painted all those eggs yourself? CROW: Mai oui! And long and greulling work it was, too! TOM: So this wouldn't have anything to do with those peel-a-masterpiece sticker set you ordered from Al's Art Supplies and Novelties the other week, would it? CROW: [Still accented] But of course not! We art-eeests have no need for-- [The Mona List that was "painted" on the egg MIKE is still holding suddenly peels off and falls to the floor.] CROW: [Normal voice] Oh, rats. [The mads sign begins flashing.] MIKE: Great. Speaking of rats... [ALL look at us] Yes, Mrs. Forrester? [Cut to Castle Forrester as CROW's fake mustache falls off. Tight shot of Pearl standing by a window which has sunlight streaming in. She looks languidly out the window as gentle, lilting springtime violin music plays in the background. It continues playing throughout the scene.] PEARL: [Sighs] Ah yes, springtime. A time of life renewing itself, of warm breezes, blooming flowers, and... [starts acting as if about to sneeze] and... [We see Bobo's hand appear from stage right, holding a tissue. Pearl grabs the tissue and sneezes hard into it.] PEARL: [Sounding a bit clogged] And alergies. [We pan back to see Bobo standing beside Pearl. He is holding a box of tissues in one hand and a wastebasket under one arm. Pearl blows her nose into the tissue and hands it to him. She speaks to us as he drops it into the basket.] PEARL: [Looking at us.] Well, well. So I see you're enjoying the holidays up on your satellite while we're stuck down here having to endure the hell that is allergy season. BOBO: Actually, Lawgiver, I'm rather enjoying the warming weather and blooming flowers. [PEARL slowly turns and stares daggars at him as he goes on] You see, I've never suffered from allergies. I... [He finally notices the the stare she is giving him] I... I... I'll try to develop some. PEARL: [Dismissively] Good. [Back to us] Anyway, you're not gonna be so lucky after all. I'm going to send you an Easter post that does to enjoyment of the holiday what pollin does to my sinuses. Then, to add a little sickly sweetness to the sour, I'll include a cute little story from Trixy Potter and her rabbits. Brain Guy? [We pan back further and now see that beside BOBO stands OBSERVER. OBSERVER is playing a violin, and is apparently the source of the violin music we have been hearing. His eyes are closed as he appears lost in the music.] PEARL: BRAIN GUY!!! OBS: [Startled, stops playing] Oh! Yes, er, sorry madam. PEARL: Time to send up the Easter goodies, Cottontail. OBS: Certainly, Madam. [Looks at us and moves head about as "brain noise" plays.] PEARL: [To us, smiling] Happy Easter! [BOBO takes a tissue and forces a sneeze as we cut back to the SOL.] [SOL. Lights flash and alarms blare. General pandemonium.] *...6...5...4...3...2...o... [Theater. MIKE enters, carrying TOM, followed by CROW. They take their usual seats as the post begins.] MIKE: Man, this is *not* how I wanted to spend the holiday. CROW: Relax, Mike. After we get through this, you can try to find the Easter eggs I hid around the station. TOM: Easter egg hunt, huh? Sounds like fun. > Subject: Re: Easter is pagan. MIKE: [Old codger voice] Easter's *Pagan*? What the samhain are you talkin' about? > From: anon@home.net (Portal) TOM: [Sings] On anon... I'll just keep on writing... Till my readers feel like crying, on anon, on anon, on an-on. > Date: 1999/07/08 > > Newsgroups: > alt.bible,alt.christnet,alt.christnet.bible-thumpers,alt.christnet.theology CROW: While back on the alt.pagan newsgroups they carry on a thread entitled "Beltane is Christian." Go figure! > > In article <37847ffc.7183511@news.computermart.com.au>, TOM: Ah yes, news.computermart.com.au, that hotbed of theological debate... > fiskare@computermart.com.au (Troy Harris) wrote: > > > >Despicable word study and ideology- repent! MIKE: And a hearty good morning to you, too, Mr. Harris! > > Easter is a vil pagan holiday that is forbidden in the > Bible. TOM: A "vil" pagan holiday? MIKE: Yeah. You know, the Vils. They're like the Vandals and the Visigoths and those other pagan tribes. > > Easter is the Roman/Greek/Babylonian Holiday of Ishtar. CROW: That's it, I'm outta here. [Starts to leave.] MIKE: [Grabbing CROW's shoulder] Hold on, there, buddy! They're just talking about the holiday, not the movie. CROW: [With trepidation] Okay, then. [Settles back uneasily in his seat] But if I suddenly see a scene with Hoffman and Beatty in the desert... > Using the Greek Names, TOM: Which are all Greek to us... > this holiday celebrated the return > of the "spring goddess" Persephone, MIKE: Oh, she must be Coily's wife. > Queen of the infernal > Regions, ALL: EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! > from Hades each year. The Greek myth goes like > this: TOM: Yes, it goes something... like... *this*... > [ Hades was lonely living in the under world so he > kidnapped Persephone, daughter of Demeter, goddess of > agriculture. MIKE: I guess Hades had a thing for farm girls. > Demeter became so sad, ALL: HOW SAD WAS SHE? > that she did not do > her job and the earth would grow no food. CROW: Demeter was a slacker. > Persephone > married Hades and became Queen of the Infernal Regions. MIKE: As was previously stated. CROW: Why does this guy seem to have such an odd fixaction on the Infernal Regions? MIKE: Do you REALLY want to know? CROW: Ummmm, no, maybe not... > She would live in the underworld for four months each year > and that was their explanation for winter.] TOM: You can tell this was before they discovered Florida. > Eos the > "dawn/spring/fertility goddess," was also attributed for > the coming of spring. MIKE: Eos had to assume a lot of extra responsibilities after all the downsizing at Olympus. > Eos was a variant of Eatsre, > Eostra, and Ostara, among others. The festivals for Eos > was marked by eggs and Rabbits. CROW: But which came first, the rabbits or the eggs? > > Can this sinnfulday be transformed into a "christian > holiday" simply because Pagans wanted to keep their orgies? TOM: Well, I don't know, but can you blame them for trying? > > This issue is addressed in Deuteronomy 12:29-31: "When the > LORD your God has cut down before you the nations that you > are about to enter and dispossess, MIKE: Something tells me this isn't one of those "happy verses." > and you have > dispossessed them and settled in their land, beware of > being lured into their ways after they have been wiped out > before you! CROW: Which you'd have to be pretty stupid to do after witnessething all the wiping-out thereof. > Do not inquire about their gods, saying, "How > did those nations worship their gods? I too will follow > those practices." TOM: [Excitedly] Yeah! Yeah! *We* wanna worship those loser gods and get wiped out by Jehova, too! > You shall not act thus toward the LORD > your God, for they perform for their gods every abhorrent > act that the LORD detests; MIKE: Like genocide? > they even offer up their sons > and daughters in fire to their gods." CROW: Remember, fire should be reserved for witches and heretics. > > This is pretty black and white on the matter. TOM: Somehow I doubt that this guy's on the writing staff of "Touched by an Angel." CROW: Then again, maybe he *is* and making anonymous posts like this is how he exorcises his darker side before writing one of those stories about those nice, sweet angels -- and Della Reese. MIKE: Speaking of nice and sweet, here comes OUR story. > THE TALE OF > > PETER RABBIT CROW: Let me guess. It was white and puffy. > > BY > > BEATRIX POTTER TOM: Any relation to Harry? MIKE: Maybe a great-great-great-great grandmother. CROW: Naah, she wasn't *that* great. > > > > ONCE upon a time there > were four little Rabbits, CROW: And then in no time there were 8, then 16, then... > and their names were-- > > Flopsy, > > Mopsy, > > Cotton-tail, > > and Peter. MIKE: Yes, by their fourth go-round Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit had gotten over their fondness for cutesy bunny names. TOM: The next one they're just gonna call "Fred." > > They lived with their Mother > in a sand-bank, underneath the > root of a very big fir tree. TOM: Yeah, well, the housing shortage gets to everybody. > > "NOW, my dears," said old > Mrs. Rabbit one morning, CROW: Dears? I thought they were rabbits. > "you may go into the fields > or down the lane, but don't go > into Mr. McGregor's garden: > your Father had an accident > there; he was put in a pie by > Mrs. McGregor." TOM: That was no baking accident! > > "NOW run along, and don't > get into mischief. I am > going out." MIKE: Bugsy's bar must be having a ladies night again. > > THEN old Mrs. Rabbit took > a basket and her umbrella, > to the baker's. She bought a > loaf of brown bread and five > currant buns. TOM: Remember, it's important to keep your buns currant. MIKE: This message brought to you by the baking council. > > FLOPSY, Mopsy, and > Cottontail, who were good > little bunnies, went down the > lane to gather blackberries; CROW: That's "African-American" berries, thank you. > > BUT Peter, who was very > naughty, ran straight > away to Mr. McGregor's > garden and squeezed under > the gate! MIKE: You can tell Peter had a hard time getting life insurance. > > FIRST he ate some lettuces > and some French beans; > and then he ate some radishes; CROW: Hey, Mike! You know the problem with eating French beans? MIKE: Uh, no, Crow, what's that? CROW: They make you have go OUI-OUI! Get it? HA! MIKE: [Silence for a moment, then dryly] You thought that up all by yourself, did you? CROW: [Downcast] Well... yeah... > > AND then, feeling rather > sick, he went to look for > some parsley. TOM: So parsley is a herbal Pepto-Bismol? > > BUT round the end of a > cucumber frame, whom > should he meet but Mr. > McGregor! MIKE: [As McGregor] Fee fo fum fie, I'm in the mood for some rabbit pie! > > MR. McGREGOR was on > his hands and knees CROW: Being near the end of his latest bender... > > planting out young cabbages, > but he jumped up and ran after > Peter, waving a rake and calling > out, "Stop thief!" TOM: Well, I guess that's not as intimidating as if he called "Stop, lunch!" but it still does not bode well. > > PETER was most dreadfully > frightened; he rushed all > over the garden, for he had > forgotten the way back to the > gate. MIKE: Peter had the I.Q. of a rabbit. > > He lost one of his shoes > among the cabbages, and the > other shoe amongst the potatoes. CROW: What is this, an excuse for a lepus strip-tease? > > AFTER losing them, he ran > on four legs and went > faster, so that I think he might > have got away altogether if he > had not unfortunately run into > a gooseberry net, TOM: Which had just been set out to catch gooseberries as they made their way home to spawn... > and got > caught by the large buttons on > his jacket. It was a blue jacket > with brass buttons, quite new. MIKE: Uh, Ms. Potter, I think we may be going off on a tangent here. > > PETER gave himself up for > lost, and shed big tears; > but his sobs were overheard by > some friendly sparrows, who > flew to him in great excitement, > and implored him to > exert himself. CROW: [As a sparrow] C'mon, kid! I bet Franky here ten bucks you can outrun the old koot for another five minutes! > > MR. McGREGOR came up > with a sieve, which he > intended to pop upon the top > of Peter; but Peter wriggled > out just in time, leaving his > jacket behind him. ALL: [Hum theme to "The Stripper."] > > AND rushed into the toolshed, > and jumped into a can. CROW: Hey, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. > It would have been a > beautiful thing to hide in, if it > had not had so much water in it. MIKE: [As Peter] Man, this is *not* my day! > > MR. McGREGOR was > quite sure that Peter > was somewhere in the toolshed, > perhaps hidden underneath > a flower-pot. He began > to turn them over carefully, > looking under each. TOM: [As McGregor] Heeeere, bunny bunny bunny... > > Presently Peter sneezed-- > "Kertyschoo!" Mr. McGregor > was after him in no time, CROW: "Kertyschoo?" MIKE: Don't ask me. I guess they sneezed differently in Ms. Potter's day. > > AND tried to put his foot > upon Peter, who jumped > out of a window, upsetting > three plants. TOM: The poor plants just weren't used to such excitement. > The window was > too small for Mr. McGregor, CROW: Who got stuck in it and died a few days later of thirst. The end. > and he was tired of running > after Peter. He went back to > his work. MIKE: [As McGregor, muttering] Ragger-fragger-saggid rabbit. > > PETER sat down to rest; > he was out of breath and > trembling with fright, and he > had not the least idea which > way to go. Also he was very > damp with sitting in that can. TOM: [As Peter] Note to self: When running for one's life, don't jump into cans of water. > > After a time he began to > wander about, going lippity-- > lippity--not very fast, and > looking all around. MIKE: Naked, wet, and trapped. Looks like Peter's really hit bottom now. All because he just couldn't resist those vegetables. TOM: Yep, time to call Vegans Anonymous. > > HE found a door in a wall; > but it was locked, and > there was no room for a fat > little rabbit to squeeze > underneath. CROW: [As Peter] Man, I guess I shouldn't have had that extra raddish! > > An old mouse was running > in and out over the stone doorstep, > carrying peas and beans > to her family in the wood. > Peter asked her the way to the > gate, TOM: [Sings] Do you know the way to the front gate? MIKE & CROW: La-la, la-la, la la la-la la. > but she had such a large > pea in her mouth that she could > not answer. She only shook > her head at him. Peter began > to cry. MIKE: I think Peter's just upset that a mouse could carry an object bigger than his brain in its mouth. > > THEN he tried to find his > way straight across the > garden, but he became more > and more puzzled. Presently, > he came to a pond where Mr. > McGregor filled his water-cans. TOM: In the off-chance that he needs to do any more rabbit chasing today, he wants to have his traps ready. > > A white cat was staring at > some gold-fish; she sat very, > very still, CROW: Ah, yes. Nature's fishcam. > but now and then > the tip of her tail twitched as > if it were alive. Peter thought > it best to go away without > speaking to her; he had heard > about cats from his cousin, > little Benjamin Bunny. MIKE: [As Ben Bunny] Ya just can't trust 'em, kid. But I gotta admit, they put on a great Broadway show! > > HE went back towards the > tool-shed, but suddenly, > quite close to him, he heard > the noise of a hoe--scr-r-ritch, > scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter > scuttered underneath the > bushes. TOM: But the president refused to grant him asylum. > But presently, as > nothing happened, he came > out, and climbed upon a > wheelbarrow, and peeped over. The > first thing he saw was Mr. > McGregor hoeing onions. His > back was turned towards > Peter, and beyond him was > the gate! CROW: No! It's a trap! > > PETER got down very > quietly off the wheelbarrow, > and started running > as fast as he could go, along > a straight walk behind some > black-currant bushes. MIKE: New from the makers of Wallace and Gromit, it's "Rabbit Run!" > > Mr. McGregor caught sight > of him at the corner, but Peter > did not care. He slipped underneath > the gate, and was safe at > last in the wood outside the > garden. TOM: Well, he *thought* he was safe in the woods. Then he found a little bundle of sticks and cloth, and inside *that* he found-- > > MR. McGREGOR hung up > the little jacket and the > shoes for a scare-crow to > frighten the blackbirds. CROW: But, thinking it was *really* Peter, the blackbirds just laughed at it. > > PETER never stopped running > or looked behind > him till he got home to the > big fir-tree. MIKE: And he's safe at home! > > He was so tired that he > flopped down upon the nice > soft sand on the floor of the > rabbit-hole, and shut his eyes. TOM: And, while he wasn't paying attention, a fox came along and ate him. The end. > His mother was busy cooking; > she wondered what he had > done with his clothes. It was > the second little jacket and > pair of shoes that Peter had > lost in a fortnight! CROW: [As Mother] Son, I don't mean to pry or anything, but why do you keep coming home naked? > > I AM sorry to say that Peter > was not very well during > the evening. MIKE: He was sick *and* tired. > > His mother put him to bed, > and made some camomile tea; > and she gave a dose of it to > Peter! CROW: [As Mother] *This'll* teach ya to keep loosing your clothes! MIKE: [As Peter] NO! MA! NO! [Slurp] Oh, yuck! > > "One table-spoonful to be > taken at bed-time." TOM: "This product may cause rashes, hives, nausesa and temporary loss of bladder control. If you are pregnant or nursing, do not use." > > BUT Flopsy, Mopsy, and > Cotton-tail had bread > and milk and blackberries, > for supper. CROW: Ah, yes, the lap of luxury. > > THE END MIKE: Oh. So that's it, then. TOM: I guess the story kinda Petered out! MIKE: [Rising and picking up Tom] Then I say we high-tail it outta here. CROW: Just show me the way to the can. [ALL exit theater.] ...o...2...3...4...5...6...* [SoL. Bridge. Mike is standing on a stepladder which is laid against the portal door. We can only see the back of his legs from our viewpoint. TOM and CROW are in their regular spots, looking up at him.] MIKE: Are you sure it's up here? CROW: Yes, yes, it's on the back of that ledge. Just reach up a little further and try to pull it towards you. [To TOM] Ha! I *told* you he'd never find it! TOM: Crow, you really should consider more common places to hide your Easter eggs. CROW: But doesn't that miss the point of hiding them? TOM: Well... MIKE: AAAH! Son of a-- CROW & TOM: Mike! What's wrong?! MIKE: [Irritated, climbing down the ladder] I "found" your egg. [MIKE turns to CROW. MIKE has raw egg dripping down his face and is wiping it away from his eyes.] MIKE: Crow, don't you know you're supposed to BOIL these first? CROW: [As Mads light begins flashing] D'ohh, I *knew* I forgot something! [MIKE pulls his arm back as if to strike CROW.] CROW: [Cowering] Don't hit, Mommy! MIKE: [Bringing his hand down on the Mads light instead] Yes, Mrs. Forrester? [Castle Forrester. Pearl is sitting in an easy chair and reading a newspaper. A small table sits to one side of her on which sits a box of tissues. To the other side of her sits a wastebasket filled with used tissues. On the floor in the background sit two large Easter baskets filled with assorted candies and treats.] PEARL: [To us] Well, Nelson. Egg on your face again, eh? Why am I not surprised? [Puts down the paper, takes a clean tissue, sneezes into it, then blows her nose loudly and drops the tissue in the trash.] Oh, and speaking of surprises... [We hear a small commotion offstage, and then OBSERVER and BOBO come bounding into the room, dressed in pajamas -- although OBSERVER is also wearing his cowl and cape. They make excited sounds and run over to the baskets, each grabbing one.] OBS: My word! He came, he really came! BOBO: See? I *told* you the power of a good myth beats rational logic anytime! OBS: Yes, but I thought we were talking about *politics* -- PEARL: Oh, boys! Run out to the kitchen, will you? I'm making a special treat for Easter dinner and I need you to tell me how it's coming. OBS: Why, that's uncommonly kind of you, Pearl. BOBO: Really! What kind of dish is it? PEARL: Oh, it's just something that came to me this morning. Early, this morning. [BOBO and OBSERVER exit.] PEARL: [To us, smiling evilly] Speaking about boiling... OBS: [Offstage] What's in that huge pot? BOBO: [Offstage] Careful, don't burn yourself! [The sound of a pot lid being lifted.] PEARL: My favorite Easter dish ... rabbit stew! OBS & BOBO: [Offstage] AAAAAAH!!! [PEARL's evil grin deepens as we fade to black.] PEARL: [Somewhere in the blackness] Kertys-CHOO! 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 | | | Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its associated characters | | and situations are the property of and trademarks of Best | | Brains, Inc. In no way should this MiSTing be construed to | | be an infringement on those rights. All rights reserved. | | Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment | | purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trade- | | marks held by Best Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred. | | This post is a satire and not intended as a personal attack upon | | the original author(s) or other persons or characters presented, | | and is meant only as entertainment and commentary. | | | |---------------------------------------------------------------------| | | | Please visit "Jim Gadfly's MiSTing Page" for a list of all my | | MiSTings as well as tools and resource links for other MiSTing | | authors. | | http://www.angelfire.com/va/gadfly | | | | A copy of the original "The Tale of Peter Rabbit" can be found at: | | ftp://ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext96/bpsto11.txt | | | 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 > Easter is a vil pagan holiday that is forbidden in the > Bible.