S U P E R B O Y : D E P R E S S I O N --------------------------------------- with shorts: "A Word of Warning" and "A Concerned Grandfather" A MiSTing by Jim Gadfly gadfly@angelfire.com Published August 22, 2000 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 [Season 10 opening images and theme.] ...o...2...3...4...5...6...* [Satellite of Love. Bridge. A small stack of letters topped by a census form sit on the console. CROW and TOM stand behind the console, engrossed in reading a "Superboy" comic book. MIKE enters.] MIKE: Hey, guys. Did the mail come yet? TOM: Yeah. We got the usual junk mail, the latest "Superboy" comic, your census form, and -- oh, yeah, a big package arrived addressed to you. MIKE: Great! It finally got here! [Looks around excitedly for a moment, then] Where is it? CROW: We sent it back. MIKE: WHAT?! WHY...? CROW: Well, the thing had almost three bucks postage due on it, so we had them return it to the company that shipped it until they could get it right. MIKE: [Upset and disappointed] But that was the build-it-yourself satellite escape pod kit I've been waiting on for over two months! TOM: And I'm sure they'll send it again, but this time with the correct postage. MIKE: Why didn't you just pay the lousy three bucks?! CROW: And encourage more corporate irresponsibility? No, Mike, the line must be drawn *here*. Now we will make them *pay* for what they've done! [Mike sighs, exasperated.] TOM: [Nodding to the pile of letters] Hey, look on the bright side. You've been pre-approved for five more credit cards! CROW: And we'll even let you read our comic. TOM: Yeah. After *we're* done with it, of course. CROW: Of course. MIKE: [Sarcastically] Oh, gee, thanks. [Glances over their shoulders at the comic] Superboy, huh? [Begins to mellow] I remember watching Superboy cartoons as a kid. Him growing up in Smallville, with that superpowered dog of his with its own cute little cape -- TOM: Never happened. MIKE: [Confused] What? CROW: DC comics re-wrote history. The Superboy you're talking about never existed. MIKE: What do you mean, "never existed." There were *tons* of old Superboy comics -- TOM: Nope. Gone. Washed away. In the new timeline, the first time Supes dons the cape is when he's all grown up, kinda like in the movie. MIKE: But his dog Krypto -- CROW: They re-wrote him too. Totally different dog. The old one never existed. MIKE: But they can't DO that! TOM: Sure they can. They own the copyright. They can do anything. MIKE: But it's not right! CROW: What does the American legal system have to do with right or wrong? [MIKE shakes his head in frustration, then gestures toward the comic.] MIKE: So who's *this* kid? TOM: He's a sort-of clone of the original Superman, but not exactly. He's got powers similar to Superman, but not quite. Does it make more sense now? MIKE: Noooo. [Notices census form on the counter] Oh, great. [Picks up the form] On top of everything else I have to fill *this* thing out. [Examines it for a moment] At least it's the short form. CROW: Yeah. I heard the long form gets really personal. TOM: You can at least be grateful you're not one of the poor saps who got stuck with filling *that* thing out. [The mads light begins flashing.] MIKE: Oh, wonderful. This should round out a perfect morning. [Looks at us] Yes, Mrs. Forrester, what can we do for you? [Castle Forrester. PEARL is standing, leaning against a desk with her arms crossed, a look of mild irritation on her face. OBSERVER is sitting nearby, legs crossed, holding a pencil poised above a multi-page form that sits on a clipboard on his lap. A pair of stereotypical "secretarial" glasses is perched on the end of his nose.] OBS: [Reads] Sex? PEARL: Only if he's rich, powerful, or a real hunk. OBS: [Marks on form, then reads] Blood type? PEARL: Cold. OBS: [Marks on form, then reads] Height? PEARL: Five-nine in spikes. OBS: [Looking up from the form] But I've never seen you wear high heels. PEARL: Who said anything about high heels? I said *spikes*. OBS: Oh. [Looks back down at the form and marks on it, then reads] Weight? [PEARL fidgets uncomfortably and stares with more irritation off into a corner.] OBS: [Looks up at PEARL and speaks more loudly] Weight? [PEARL whirls around angrily and grabs the clipboard from OBSERVER, who cringes.] PEARL: THE HELL WITH THIS. DAMN NOSEY BUSY-BODIES! I'D RATHER PAY THE FRICKIN' $100 FINE! [PEARL violently flings the clipboard offstage.] BOBO: [Offstage] OWWW!!! MY EYE!!! PEARL: [To us] Ah, Nelson. So you think you got a break with the short form, while I got stuck having to fill in the extra-long version that asks everything from the shade of your lip gloss to the weight of your motor oil, eh? Well, if you think so, then you've go another thing coming! OBS: [Tentatively, still seated] Actually, it's "another *think* coming" -- PEARL: [Whirling to look down at OBSERVER] WHAT DID YOU SAY?! OBS: [Cowering] I said -- uh, I said "they've got another thing coming." PEARL: [Self-satisfied] I thought so. [Back to us] Anyway, you wanna know more about Smallville's cloned successor? Fine, I've got a story made to order, one where he's got to deal with the dark, depressing recesses of his mind. But the depression's the main course; first, speaking of DNA technology, I've got a little appetizer rich in paranoia from an anonymous mailer wanting to warn the world of the nefarious uses to which the government plans to put your census form. And -- oh, what the heck, I feel generous today -- I'll even stick in a little bonus between the two, a little piece of spam passed on from some old geezer worried about his grandkiddies and the health care system. Brain Guy! OBS: Yes, madam? PEARL: One paranoia and spam fanfic sandwich, to go! OBS: Coming right up! [OBSERVER jiggles his head about as "brain noise" plays.] [SoL. Alarms blare and lights flash. General pandemonium as MIKE and the 'BOTS dash offscreen and the theater tunnel doors open.] *...6...5...4...3...2...o... [Theater. MIKE enters, carrying TOM, followed by CROW. They take their usual seats as the post begins rolling.] > Forum: alt.anonymous.messages TOM: *The* place to go on the Internet for reliable, objective information. > Subject: A word of warning, for those of you who intend to cooperate MIKE: Just one word. Plastics. > Date: 01/27/2000 CROW: Well, I guest with the Y2K thing just over, this guy had to find *something* else to get paranoid about. > Author: Anonymous TOM: Hey, this is from the _Primary Colors_ author! MIKE: Naah, the email ID's different. This is from some nobody. CROW: But at least you can't say he doesn't know squat. > > A word of warning, for those of you who intend to cooperate > with the creeps of the Clinton/Gore regime "peasant inventory": MIKE: Please, I'm not a "peasant", I'm "feudally challenged." > If you mail in the form these Statist punks are sending out, CROW: "Statist punks." Weren't they an '80s rock group? > there are a couple of risk you need to be aware of. If you > 'lick' the envelope or stamp they can extract DNA from the > residue of your saliva. MIKE: DNA technical knowledge courtesy _Jurassic Park_. > So, use tap water. TOM: Just don't use *fluoridated* tap water! CROW: Or get your dog to lick it. *That'll* confuse the commies! > > If you handle the form, they can quickly and easily lift > your fingerprints from it. But, if you dust your hands with > talcum powder or chalk dust the normal oils in your skin will > be absorbed and will not leave a print. MIKE: Plus, after you fill it out, you'll be all set to play a quick game of 9-ball. > Or, you could just > wear rubber gloves. CROW: In fact, be doubly careful and only touch the form using tweezers and clamps! > But be carefull that no one in your > household touchs the form without some type of protection. TOM: After all, you don't know where that form has *been*. > > These damned criminals of the "US" government have ALWAYS > wanted a complete fingerprint database for all the peasants, > not just the ones that have been arrested or joined their > 'military'. CROW: Why does he have "military" in quotes? TOM: Maybe he doesn't think that the U.S. has a real military? MIKE: Yeah, all those tanks and guns and things are just a clever ruse to get guys to join up so the government can get their fingerprints. TOM: Remember people, you heard it here first! > With the enhanced ability to quickly and > efficiently lift fingerprints the census provides them with > one hell of an opportunity to do just that. Be careful. > > SIC SEMPER TYRANNUS CROW: Well, he got the "sic" part right. MIKE: Speaking of which, I think that that health care spam is about to start. Prepare yourselves. CROW: Okay. I'm ill-prepared. > From: email.angel.com@orion.erols.com TOM: [Sings] Email Angel How I loathe him And I hate it when he does spam me ... > To: Friend@public.com MIKE: [As Frankenstein Monster] F-r-i-e-n-n-n-d > Subject: " A Concerned Grandfather" CROW: [As _Rugrats_ Grandfather] Dagnabbit, what've you scamps got into now? > Date: Thursday, July 08, 1999 3:41 PM > > "A Concerned Grandfather" MIKE: Tonight on _The Waltons: The Lost Episodes_. > > Do you care about your family's future? If you could would you > change it for the better? Of course you would. TOM: [As author] So just forget I asked the question. It was dumb. > > Hello, My name is Joe Gerner. ALL: HI, JOE. > I look at my two grandsons and I > worry about their future. CROW: [As Joe] Hey, with genes like mine, who wouldn't? > You will understand what I mean after > you have finished reading. I represent "Citizens Unitet For > Insurance Reform." TOM: And I represent "Netizens for Spelling Correctness." Can we get along on the Internet? > We are recruiting concerned citizens who are > tired of watching the direction in wich the industry is taking. > How many times have you heard stories about insurance companies > raising their rates on health care for no legitimate reason? CROW: Hey, you suggesting an extra trip to Bermuda for the HMO CEOs and their families is *not* a good reason?! TOM: But every weekend? > People are being treated like cattle in their doctors offices > and hospitals. The hospitals are replacing highly skilled > registered nurses with medical assistants. Doctors in these > hospitals and specially in private practice are not being > allowed to take the proper amount of time to give the best > medical treatment possible. CROW: *Now* are you suggesting that 5 minutes is *not* sufficient time to detect life-threatening ailments? Pushah! > > In the future, health care costs will be so high that only a > small portion of the people in the country will be able to > afford any health care at all. MIKE: These people will all be elected to Congress on the strength of their opposition to socialized medicine. > If you are one of the lucky > people who will never have to worry about the cost of health > care , good for you, but we are all GODS children and we have to > help one another. TOM: Criminy, another bleeding-heart rambling on about us all being "God's Children" and helping each other. He's staring to sound like -- what was that guy's name -- MIKE: Jesus? > You should count your blessings, but also get > involved. Put yourself in the persons shoes who is stuggling > just to make ends meet. MIKE: But why on earth, on top of all the other problems the poor guy has, should I take his *shoes*? > Imagine watching your faimly suffer > because the insurance companies are putting medical treatment > out of reach for you. CROW: How depressing. Makes you wanna get in your Porsche and go for a drive to get away from it all for a while. > Just recently an article in the newspapers > and on T.V. talked about doctors being so frustrated by > stepped-up H.M.O. control over their medical practices that they > are desperately trying to organize into labor unions. This is a > tactic that only a few years ago seemed remote. TOM: One of the differences of course is that instead of *walking* picket lines the doctors will be driving their golf carts. > > These M.D.S, got a boost from 15,000 doctors who are in an > organized group called the 'Nation Doctors Alliance". A doctor > named Barry Liebowitz said that today marks the beginning of a > major initiative to organize doctors nationwide. CROW: Doctors of America, unite! You have nothing to lose but your patients! > Of course the > H.M.O.s counter that these doctors are independent contractors > and therfore don't have the right to organize. MIKE: After all, take a look around any doctor's office and you can tell that they've never been organized *before*. > We need you, your > friends and anyone else that you know who cares about the future > of their loved ones, to join this battle. TOM: [As Joe] So forward this to them, on the off-chance that they're *not* on my spamming list. > > How many times have you heard the politicians in Washington take > a platform on healthcare reform only to be elected and nothing > changes.(Now is the time for CROW: -- all good men to -- > the citizens of this country to > unite and be heard.) Don't let this chance slip away. MIKE: [As Joe] This offer will NOT be repeated! TOM: [As Joe] Veterans, you CANNOT be turned down! > This is > what the Forth of July is all about, rights that our fourfathers > fought for. CROW: What, this guy has *four* fathers?! TOM: And I thought that kid in _Three Men and a Baby_ was special. > Use your rights. MIKE: Not your lefts. > I'm sick of hearing how fewer and > fewer people in this country are not using their (FIRST > AMENDMENT rights.) TOM: And if they don't listen to you when you use your FIRST AMENDMENT rights -- hey, that's what the SECOND AMENDMENT is for! > what the hell is going on. CROW: Well, right now we're stuck here reading an email spam. > WAKE UP EVERYONE,or > we will end up losing those rights.Don't think that it can't > happen. Get involved. Stand up for your family and other > families who are going to be left out in the future. MIKE: That's right! If you care about your family, bring them back into the past! Wait -- no -- that didn't sound right -- > The > insurance companies don't give a dam about anything but their > bottom line. Don't sid back like most people do, and say, I > can't make a difference. That's bull, You can make a difference, > a big difference. CROW: For example, try subtracting your annual pay from the national debt. See how big a difference that leaves? > > Yes I look at my two grandsons and I worry. TOM: [As Joe] I'm afraid they'll inherit my diction. > I also think about > other little kids out there. I'm worried about their future to. CROW: Their future to -- what? MIKE: I think he meant "their future, too." CROW: Oh. > We (Citizens United For Insurance Reform) are going to do > something about it. TOM: [As Joe] We're gonna spam every mailbox until everybody knows these kids by heart! > We need your help now. Our first step is > going to be a mail-in protest. This will be no ordinary mail-in. > They will take notice. MIKE: [As Joe] We'll include a death threat against the President in every letter! > Nothing will cange unless we unite. > Please Join Us. Get Involved. We already have "PHASE ONE" put > together. In the PHASE ONE package that we will be sending to > you, there will be a letter explaining what to send them, (the > Insurance Companies.) CROW: This letter wasn't written by the Unibomber, perchance? > You will also receive a bumper sticker to > either put on your car or on your mail-in. TOM: Or on your neighbor's car. Heck, he won't mind! > We will give you the > date for the beginning of "Phase One". This date will be within > a four week period thru-out the country. Please join us. The > "PHASE ONE" package is Free. MIKE: Oh, yeah, the *first* package is *always* free. Then he starts charging more and more for the *next* packages, and before you know it you're hooked and -- > Just send $3.00 for shipping and > handling to. CROW: So he means "for shipping and handling, too." MIKE: No, in this case I think he just misused a period for a colon. CROW: Oh. So on top of all else poor Joe has colon problems. TOM: No wonder he's worried about medical costs. > > Joe Gerner, Box 6042, Phila. PA 19114 MIKE: AH-CHOO! > > GOD bless. MIKE: Thank you. CROW: Hey, that's cheating! > > > (This is a one time mailing but we still must state, if you wish > to have your name removed from our mailing list, please reply > remove in the subject line.) TOM: And they'll make sure your email address is confirmed as valid for inclusion in *other* spamming lists. MIKE: At least it wasn't as painful as that Census Guy. CROW: Oh, I disagree. At least the Census Guy was short and to the point. Like the top of his head. MIKE: True. So much paranoia. So little time. TOM: You know, sitting here, I got an idea of how the government can keep from encouraging guys like that. CROW: Really? MIKE: How so? TOM: Let's get out of here and I'll show you! MIKE: Oh. Okay, fine. [Picks up TOM.] CROW: Works for me. [All exit theater.] ...o...2...3...4...5...6...* [SoL. Bridge. TOM is behind the console, "holding" a small guitar. We hear guitar tuning noises. MIKE and CROW enter.] MIKE: Hey, Tom. What gives with the guitar? TOM: Well, Mike, like I said, the post from Census Guy started me thinking -- CROW: Wow! *That's* a rarity! TOM: [To CROW] Shut up. [To MIKE] Anyway, you know, the government really hasn't communicated the reasons behind all the questions on the long form very well. So I thought maybe if they tried putting their message to music, they might have better success. MIKE: So I take it you're composing a song for them? TOM: Already composed, my friend! Just take a listen to this. [TOM begins "strumming" the first few notes of what is clearly recognizable as John Denver's "Annie's Song." MIKE and CROW look at him suspiciously as he begins to sing.] TOM: Please fill out the census, Take one of our forms now. Write in your age, sex, Race and yearly pay t-o-o-o-o. We'll tally the answers, Redistribute resources. Please fill out the census, So that we don't screw y-o-u-u-u. [TOM stops playing and looks at MIKE and CROW in turn.] TOM: Well, guys, what do you think? MIKE: It, um, well, it does make its point -- [The commercial light begins flashing.] CROW: So you composed that, huh? TOM: Sure did. CROW: Then do me a favor. TOM: What's that? CROW: Decompose. TOM: Decom-- WHY YOU-- [TOM angrily moves toward a laughing CROW while MIKE struggles to hold TOM back.] MIKE: Easy Tom! [To us] We'll be right back. [To TOM] Easy maestro! Easy! [Break for commercials.] [When we return from commercial break, MIKE is entering the theater, carrying TOM, followed by CROW. They take their usual seats as the fanfic begins rolling.] TOM: Look! Up on the screen! It's a mosquito! CROW: It's a hang glider! MIKE: No! It's -- it's -- > Superboy: Depression CROW: "Depression", huh? I hope the title's not a premonition of how we're gonna feel when the story's over. TOM: You mean like when we watched the movie _Tormented_? CROW: Exactly. > by Ben Church TOM: Holy fanfic writer, Batman! > b_church@yahoo.com > Feedback! Please! CROW: Okay. You're skinny and your breath stinks. MIKE: Hey! That's not nice. You've no call for that -- yet. CROW: I'm sorry. It's just that when we get close to the time when my load pan needs emptying, I get in these weird moods. > > Superboy belongs to DC Comics. TOM: *Despite* what the 13th Amendment says. > > Superboy landed in front the Mental Hospital with a certain > amount of trepidation. MIKE: And a couple of skid marks. > He'd never been inside one before. He wasn't > really all that keen on going into this one, but the message had said > it was urgent, so here he was. CROW: Jeez, was Superboy adopted by the Teenage Werewolf's dad or something? > "Great," he thought. "Bet I wind up having to fight some > superpowered serial killer or something." MIKE: Tisk tisk. Sounds like *somebody* needs an attitude adjustment. > "Oh Superboy," Dr. Enton sighed in relief, TOM: [As Enton, sighing] MYYY HE-RO! > as Superboy entered > the hospital. "Thank God you've arrived." CROW: [As Enton] *And* that it's *Friday*! > "No problem Doc." Superboy lied. "What seems to be the > problem?" MIKE: I thought he just finished saying there *was* no problem. > "One of our patients has escaped." Enton said. "What worries > me, is how he did it." TOM: [As Enton] I mean, we had him strapped in a straight jacket and locked in a safe inside this huge glass vat of water behind a big curtain, and still -- > "And how's that?" The Kid asked. "Did he suddenly develop super > strength? Did he teleport out?" CROW: [As Superboy] Did he turn invisible and slip away? Was he bitten by a radioactive spider and crawl over the wall? Did he transform into a human torch and-- > "No, he just walked out." CROW: Oh. Well, that works, too. > "Nice security you got here." MIKE: I guess they shouldn't have hired that guy who was in charge of protecting the Oscar statuettes. > "Actually, we have no security here anymore. TOM: [As Enton] That last round of layoffs cut *really* deep. > Every orderly and > guard who tried to stop him, well we don't know what he did to them, > but later that night, they all went home...and committed suicide." CROW: Huh. Well, maybe he talked to them about their choices for President in 2000. > > Superboy contemplated what he'd just heard. And couldn't > figure it out. Or maybe he could. MIKE: Okay, Mr. Church, make up your mind. > The guy who'd escaped, Thomas > Wallace, apparently had the power to affect other people's minds, TOM: Like Rush Limbaugh? > and was so sick, ALL: HOW SICK WAS HE? > that he'd made the guards kill themselves. MIKE: Oh. TOM: Not much of a punchline. CROW: Really. > On the other hand, he'd been being treated for extreme > depression. Maybe he'd somehow projected his own suicidal tendencies > on the guards. TOM: Then maybe Wallace's sobriquet should be "The Projectionist." MIKE: Naah. That'll cause too much confusion in the closing credits when they make this into a movie. > "Man," he thought. "This is gonna be heavy." CROW: [As Doc Brown] Why? Is this somehow affecting the Earth's gravitational pull? > "What is?" Dubbilex asked. "Sorry, didn't mean to intrude." MIKE: Okay, now who's *this* guy? TOM: Dubbilex? He's another clone that the scientists who made Superboy sent to take care of him. He's telepathic and his DNA has been altered -- MIKE: Never mind, I'll just roll with it. > "No problem Dub." Superboy said. He explained the situation to > the DNAlien. > "Perhaps I could pinpoint his location." Dubbilex offered. "I > believe if he does have mental problems, I should be able to find him." CROW: [As Dubbilex] Mental problems. Hummm. Let's start by seeing who's on Jerry Springer today ... > > Tom sat alone in the bus station, staring down at the floor. > He wasn't really thinking about anything in particular. TOM: Sounds like an MTV viewer during a power outage. > He tried not > to. Every time he did, he just thought of all the reasons he had for > ending his life. MIKE: Good grief. Wallace makes Hamlet look like Richard Simmons. > > > Dub searched the island with his mind, searching for two > things, psionic powers, and/or severe depression. CROW: Well, three, if you count checking out the east end of town for a good Japanese Steakhouse. MIKE: Wait a second. What island are we talking about? TOM: I think Hawaii. MIKE: *Hawaii*? How can anyone be depressed in *Hawaii*? > Then, he thought he > found it. TOM: So he started running down the street naked and shouting "Eureka!" > He suddenly felt a heavy weight settle about his shoulders, > and a terrible sadness threatened to overwhelm him. MIKE: Then he realized he'd just tuned in to Eeyore pulling a cart. > "The bus station." he gasped, fighting the effects. "He's at > the bus station." CROW: [Gasping] He's -- with a girl -- they're sharing -- an umbrella -- > "Thanks Dub!" Superboy said, charging off. > "Superboy wait!" But it was too late. TOM: He was out of the gate! MIKE: He was off to his fate! CROW: He had taken the bait! > "All right dude," Superboy said, striding into the bus station. > "You're goin' back to the hospital!" MIKE: Superboy, Master of Tact and Charm. > Tom just looked at Superboy and sighed. "What does it matter?" > he asked. "Wether I'm in the hospital or out in the world? CROW: Actually, there's several hundred dollars a day difference. TOM: Yeah. Just ask Joe Gerner. > The > hospital couldn't help me. No one can help me." MIKE: But has he tried Dr. Laura? > Superboy was taken aback. He was expecting defiance or > something. But the kid just didn't care! "You'll never get better if > you have that attitude!" he pointed out. TOM: Oh, listen to the expert on healthy attitudes here! > "What should I do then?" Tome asked irritably. "Ignore it? > Repress it? Pretend it isn't there? Lie to myself and the world? > Like you?" CROW: Hey, those strategies have always worked for politicians! > Superboy felt the slightest touch in his mind, and he suddenly > started feeling depressed. MIKE: As if Superboy's mind wasn't "touched" enough already. > "You'll never grow up. TOM: [Sings] You're a Toys 'R Us kid ... > You're stuck in that child's body for > the rest of your life. Everyone you know will grow up, move on. But > you, you'll never move on. CROW: [As Wallace] You'll remain young, and never grow old and decrepit and die! TOM: Oh my God, how depressing! > You'll never be an adult. You'll never > mature. MIKE: Hey, so what? Neither has Jim Carrey, and look how well he's doing! > That's why Tana dumped you. That's why you'll be a joke to > every one you know, you respect. How could they respect you?" CROW: I haven't felt this inspired since that talk by Marvin at the last Robotic Sidekicks convention. > Tom never lost the forlorn, depressed expression he had on > his face, TOM: But neither did Buster Keaton, and he was actually kinda fun. > but his voice held such bitterness, that he might have been > talking about his own problems. CROW: That or auditioning for his own talk radio show. > In reality though, he'd unconsciously > touched the part of Superboy's mind that contained the feelings The Kid > denied, and the reasons for those feelings. MIKE: So Wallace is sortof like a depressed Deanna Troi. CROW: Only he doesn't fill out a uniform quite the same way. > In doing so, he felt Superboy's pain, and projected his own > depression on the boy. TOM: So now Wallace is channeling Bill Clinton? > Superboy's head felt heavy, and he was suddenly fighting tears. > He forgot all about the boy before him, and flew off, depression and > despair filling him. CROW: Hum. I think that went well. > > Tana didn't know why she had come back here, maybe she didn't > want to completely let go of her and Superboy's relationship. Maybe > she felt there were still loose ends to tie up. MIKE: Maybe she just needed to bum $50 for the weekend. > She knocked on the door, and Roxy answered. They studied each > other for a moment. > "Roxy." > "Tana." > There was an awkward silence. CROW: And then they fell into each other's arms in a passionate embrace. > "Is the Kid here?" > "I think so." MIKE: She *thinks* so? TOM: [As Tana] Gee, Rox, didn't mean to stump ya there. > Roxy didn't move from the doorway. CROW: She had suddenly felt an earthquake coming on. > "Can I see him please?" > "Why?" Roxy wasn't in love with Superboy anymore, but she > still cared for him deeply. And Tana had broken his heart. Finally, > she took a deep breath. "Yeah, come on in." TOM: So this is a meeting of the "Superboy, I Like You as a *Friend*" club. MIKE: As if the poor kid wasn't depressed enough already. > Tana entered the house, and looked awkwardly around. "Um, > where is he?" > "In the bathroom. Just a minute." Roxy went to the door, and > and knocked. "Kid?" MIKE: [As Superboy, muffled] I said I'd be out in a minute! > There was no answer. CROW: Except for an odd panting -- > "Kid?" Tana said. "It's me." MIKE: [As Superboy, muffled] And you are...? > There was a slight pause, and then there was a click in the > door. Roxy tried the knob. "He locked it!" TOM: He locked it! Hey, Mikey! MIKE: [Innocently] What? TOM: No, it was a joke. You know, like that cereal commercial. MIKE: Oh. Yeah. Cute. Like I've never heard a "Mikey" joke in my life. > "Kid!" Tana banged on the door. Roxy joined her, but even > both of them were not enough. CROW: Man, and they say *women* take forever. MIKE: I guess now Superboy knows what it's like to grow up in a one-bathroom house with a couple of sisters. > "Wait," Roxy said. "I've got an idea." TOM: [As Roxy] Let's go shopping down at the mall! I hear there's a *great* sale at Penney's -- > She reached into her > hair, and pulled out a bobby pin. Quickly, she picked the lock and > threw open the door. MIKE: [As Roxy] Oh, my God! HE'S LEFT THE TOILET SEAT UP!!! > Superboy stood in front of the sink, his gloves and jacket off, > tears streaking down his face. He was trying desperately to slice his > wrists open with a razor. CROW: Oh no! Superboy's trying to shave for the first time, and he's got it all wrong! > It was a contest between his superstrength, > and his invulnerability, and his strength was just beginning to win. TOM: But shouldn't the razor have broken or dulled or something by now? > "No!" Roxy and Tana shouted. TOM: Okay! I was just asking! > > Dubbilex sensed the distress as soon as he neared the house. MIKE: It was the worst thing he'd sensed since he was in Buffalo the night Norwood missed that field goal in the '91 Super Bowl. > He stretched out with his mind even as he ran for the building. He > nearly fell when he finally came into contact with Superboy's mind. CROW: See? That's why Coach says ta make sure 'n tuck the mind *in* before ya try ta run with it. > He > thrust out, as he got to the doorway. TOM: And, since the door was already open, he went sprawling across the room. > Superboy had been ignoring the wasted efforts of the girls to > tear the razor from his skin, as blood began to flow. The thoughts > that had been brought to the surface by Tom, kept running through his > head. CROW: Superboy's tilting the windmills of his mind -- and losing! > Then suddenly he felt a mental blow that threw him against the > wall. The razor dropped to the floor, but he dove for it. Another > blow knocked him out. MIKE: So, Dubbilex knocks Superboy out with relative ease without ever touching him. CROW: Now, *who's* the superhero here, again? > > Superboy awoke slowly, not entirely sure he wanted too. TOM: Like most teenagers the morning of a schoolday. > He > knew that Roxy, Tana and Dub were in the room, they would be. But he > didn't acknowledge them. CROW: Because that's just what they'd be *expecting* him to do! > He silently thanked them for stopping him, > but the depression had always been there, and still was. But it was > back under control. MIKE: Like Three Mile Island. > He wondered what had happened to Tom. TOM: I'm right here! MIKE: No, the *other* Tom. TOM: Oh. > He hoped the boy > wouldn't cause too much trouble before he was up to going after him > again. CROW: Ah, just because the guy causes everybody he comes in contact with to wanna off themselves -- > *Tana and Roxy have left Superboy.* Dubbilex's voice sounded > in his head. *You can stop pretending to still be asleep.* MIKE: Awwww. That means that Tana and Roxy weren't there to hear when he silently thanked them without acknowledging them. > Sheepishly, Superboy opened his eyes. "Never could put one > over on you could I Dub." TOM: [As Dubbilex] Me or anybody else with an IQ higher than the legal drinking age. > "No." the DNAlien said simply. "You could not. What > happened?" CROW: Why don't you already know, Oh Great Clairvoyeur? > Briefly, Superboy explained what had transpired to his mentor. > "I'll need your help next time I go after him Dub." Superboy said. TOM: [As Superboy] In fact, why don't you go ahead without me. I'm tired. > "Indeed." Dub agreed. "But this time don't charge off like > John Wayne. MIKE: [As John Wayne] Hold it right there, Pilgrim. You got a problem with the Duke's style? > We need a plan. But first," he said reluctantly. "We'll > need to know where he is." > Superboy nodded in understanding. "Are you up to it?" CROW: [As Dubbilex] Me? Hey, *I* ain't the one with the sudden attack of Schick wrist, Pal. > "I'll live. I'm used to erecting psi shields." TOM: Sadly for Dubbilex, that's the *only* thing he's used to erecting. > With that, he > began to scan for the boy. This time, he knew exactly what he was > looking for. And he did not find it. MIKE: Sounds kinda like shopping for the hottest new toy the day before Christmas. > "Problem." he announced. "I have a rather limited range. And, > it does not extend beyond the islands. CROW: Is that all? Man, that's telepathetic. TOM: Sounds like Dubbilex is only about as mentally potent as Brain Guy. OBS: [Offstage] I heard that! TOM: Then again, I could be wrong. > I'm afraid our Mr. Wallace has > left my range. He could be anywhere on the planet." > "Oh great!" Superboy grumbled. "Now what?" MIKE: Maybe check flights that left Hawaii recently and see if any had a large number of passengers that committed suicide while in route? That just might point to Wallace. CROW: Yeah, him or Robert Hays talking about his girlfriend again. > "I'm afraid the best we can do is alert the rest of the world's > heroes." Dub said. "There are certainly enough that he should be found > fairly quickly." TOM: Yeah, you can't swing a dead cat without hitting some superbeing nowadays. CROW: With my luck, I'd swing a dead cat and hit Pumaman. > "Fine." SB sighed. He hated letting one get away. MIKE: [Stretching his arms wide] And he was THIS BIG! > > The End? > CROW: What? You mean that's really it? MIKE: Kinda leaves you wondering, doesn't it? TOM: You mean why he didn't finish it? MIKE: No, why he bothered starting it. TOM: C'mon, Mike. The story wasn't all *that* bad. I think you're still bothered by DC wiping the old Superboy out of existence. MIKE: [Picking up TOM] Maybe. Let's get out of here and discuss it later in less depressing surroundings. [All exit theater.] ...o...2...3...4...5...6...* [SoL. Bridge. MIKE, TOM and CROW are in their usual places behind the console.] CROW: So, Mike, what did you really think of the new Superboy? MIKE: [Somewhat dejected] Sorry, guys. I guess I'm just a traditionalist. I miss the original Superboy and Krypto. TOM: Well, Mike, we all kinda anticipated your reaction so we all chipped in and -- well, take a look. BRING HIM IN, GYPS! [Gypsy enters from the side.] GYPSY: Okay. Here he is! [A pure white dog that resembles the original Krypto, including the wearing of a small red cape, comes leaping into MIKE's arms and starts licking his face.] MIKE: [Flabbergasted] What? You mean -- this isn't really -- TOM: Of course, Mike! It's the original Krypto! MIKE: But that's impossible! How ... GYPSY: We found him in eBay.com under the "Discontinued Comic Hero Pets" category. MIKE: [Skeptically] There's a "Discontinued Comic Hero Pets" category at eBay? CROW: Oh, heck yeah. You can get anything there. Spare kidneys ... props from old cancelled TV shows ... you name it! MIKE: Gee, thanks guys! I don't know what to say. [KRYPTO starts squirming around in MIKE's arms.] Hey -- what's wrong -- GYPSY: I think that he wants to go walkies. CROW: Better take care of it Mike. He's got a leash already attached to his collar there. MIKE: [Taking hold of the end of the leash] Oh, I see. Well, I guess I could take him up by the -- [KRYPTO leaps out of MIKE's arms and exits rapidly to the side.] MIKE: Hey, hold on boy! [the leash becomes taught and MIKE, grasping its end, is quickly pulled away and exits after KRYPTO, letting out a loud] AAAAAAH! [GYPSY, CROW, and TOM stare off to the side where KRYPTO and MIKE exited, as if watching them.] GYPSY: Wow! Looks like he really has to go! TOM: Hey, Mike! The last owner said he was used to going outside -- you might want to let go of the leash before -- [We hear a loud crash offstage, then the sound of rapidly escaping air as loose paper and other small objects begin flying around the room. The 'BOTS brace themselves against the console.] MIKE: [Offscreen, fading] AAAaaaaah... MAGIC VOICE: Warning! Hull breach! Warning! Hull breach! TOM: Like tell us something we don't already know! CROW: Man, this sucks! GYPSY: Cambot! Give us Rocket Number 9! [Exterior view of satellite. Somewhere in the distance we see (cheap effect of) MIKE being pulled by the leash by KRYPTO.] MIKE: AAAAAAAAAAH! [SoL. Bridge.] CROW: That's funny. I thought that in space nobody could hear you scream. TOM: Oh-oh, looks like he's done -- he's heading back -- [We hear a dull "thunk" and suddenly the wind sound stops and things stop blowing about.] GYPSY: Oh, my! TOM: Mike, buddy, you okay? [We slowly pan to a side bulkhead. MIKE is apparently wedged in a hole in the bulkhead, his head and upper body inside the ship, his lower body from his abdomen on down outside. KRYPTO stands in front of MIKE, licking MIKE's face.] MIKE: [Distraught] Down, boy! Down! [The 'BOTS come into view.] TOM: Hey, Mike, he likes you! He really likes you! MIKE: Yeah, that's great. Can you all *please* get me the whole way inside the ship? CROW: But how did you manage to plug a hole coming in that you passed all the way through going out? TOM: Yeah, you stop for a quick buffet while you were out there? GYPSY: Actually, it probably had more to do with escaping air pressure and -- MIKE: Yeah, whatever, just get the rest of me in here! GYPSY: Okay. I'll go get some sheet metal to plug the hole when we pull you in. Then we'd better figure out a way to rig some kinda doggy door. [GYPSY exits. CROW and TOM continue to stare at MIKE, who shifts uncomfortably. Then TOM whispers something to CROW, and they both giggle.] MIKE: [Perturbed] What? CROW: Oh, nothing. We were just wondering if we could get you anything. TOM: Yeah. For example -- um -- would you like a pot of honey? [CROW and TOM giggle more loudly as MIKE rolls his eyes.] [The scene changes to Castle Forrester. PEARL is handing a large envelope to a POSTMAN standing at the door. OBSERVER stands nearby.] PEARL: And make sure it's postmarked today! POSTMAN: Yes, Ma'am. [The POSTMAN turns to leave. We see he has an Uzi strapped to his back as PEARL closes the door.] PEARL: Well, I'm glad *that's* done. No fine, and no lies they can impeach me for later. OBS: Yes. It's fortunate that, when they asked that weight question, they didn't specify exactly which *planet* one was being weighed on. PEARL: [Annoyed] Brain Guy? OBS: Yes, Madam? PEARL: Don't ever bring that up again. OBS: Oh. Uh, yes, Madam. [BOBO enters. He is carrying a census form (short version) in one hand and an envelope about its size in the other. He is wearing an eyepatch over one eye.] BOBO: Was that the mailman I heard, Lawgiver? PEARL: Yes it was. Why, what do you have there? BOBO: Well, I'm a bit confused. This is the census form that they sent you, but it's still blank -- PEARL: [Grabbing the form from BOBO] Let me see that. [Reads for a moment] Good grief, you're right! Well, what the blazes was that damned intrusive form that I just mailed back to the Census Department that took me two hours to fill out? BOBO: I don't know. But I found this envelope by that form you're holding. It's pre-addressed to that new ISP you're thinking abut joining. [PEARL looks at the envelope in BOBO's hand for a moment. Realization dawns on her face, then is rapidly replaced by growing anger. She turns toward OBSERVER, who is growing apprehensive.] OBS: [Nervously] Oh. Uh -- heh-heh. Goodness, Pearl, what can I say? PEARL: You can start by saying "Uncle." OBS: [Confused] Buy why in heaven's name should I say "Uncle"? PEARL: [Approaching him] You'll find out in a moment. [Fade to black.] OBS: [Somewhere in the darkness] OWWW!!! UNCLE! UNCLLLLE! [Roll credits and play closing theme.] 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. Superboy in all his incarnations, and related | | characters and situations, are trademarks of and copyrighted by | | D.C. Comics. In no way should this MiSTing be construed to | | be an infringement on those rights. | | 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., or D.C. Comics is intended or | | should be inferred. | | This work 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. | | | | Source for "Superboy: Depression" (copied with permission) from | | http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/9028/depress.txt | | | | For other Ben Church works, including his own MiSTing of _Aliens_, | | visit http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/9028/index.html | | | |---------------------------------------------------------------------| | | | 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 | | | 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 8======8 > These damned criminals of the "US" government have ALWAYS > wanted a complete fingerprint database for all the peasants, > not just the ones that have been arrested or joined their > 'military'.