Mystery Self-Insertion Theater 3000 or The Satellite of Ai By: Jaimielée Rocket (Maelstrom hasn't contributed yet, so she's not co-authored, just for those of you who like Kasey) Disclaimer I: To whom this concerns, it belongs to you! Disclaimer II: The other characters, however, belong to me. Jaimielée Jr. is mine, the concept of Sailor Maelstrom is mine, Hudson is so mine, you can't touch her! The new idea of RS is mine, but Raven Nightshade is She-wolf's creation, and the person that Maelstrom is based on belongs to, well, Maelstrom. "A Typical Day on the Satellite" belongs to Ann C. Schumin, and the character that is Samantha Jones belongs to Jaimie Jeans. Violence and smut: Exactly as much as you'd expect on a MSTing, maybe a titch more smut at the end. NOTE TO AUTHOR OF 'FIC: I came across your 'fic awhile ago, and, even though it freaked me out on some level, I kinda liked it, and I'm different from other MSTiers, I suppose, well, most at least, and I riff fanfics I like. It's odd, I know, but my excuse is "You hate the ones you love", so, y'know, here it is. I waited for a response for you, but you probably wrote this 'fic in '97 and long since disappeared, so I figured I could use it. Since you're a fan of MSTings, I imagine you have a nice sense of humor, so when and if you come across this, be nice. If you get totally pissed at me, I'll take it down and put a new 'fic in its place. I just thought it would be kinda cute to riff a MST3K fanfic for a MSTing. Episode One: Jaimielée Rocket Junior? FANFIC: A Typical Day on the Satellite ~*~*~*~*~*~ Mike Nelson, the man that we all know and love, sat at the bridge's deck, with a cup of green tea and a nice romance novel that had Fabio on the cover groping some redhead's thigh, as is the usual picture on a romance novel cover. One might wonder why he is reading such a book, one might not want to know out of fear of vomiting all over their PC, but a reasonable explanation might be those are the only type of books Pearl will buy for him, and any literature might be good literature when you're stuck on a satellite. He's reading was temporarily disturbed as the lights suddenly flickered and clicked off entirely. In the darkness, he glanced about, worried that someone had just attacked, or that Servo and Crow had just busted something. As he was considering standing up and blundering about to search for Gypsy, he heard a heart-stopping shriek and he spilled his tea from fright. When the scream stopped, the lights slowly came back on and the man set down his novel. He tried to wipe the tea off from his jump suit as he shouted, "Crow! Servo! Did you guys do something you weren't supposed to?!" He paused to listen, but there was no reply. "Guys! Get in here right now!" He paused again and waited. A minute later, he heard a door to the right open and then he heard the two 'Bots grunting as if carrying something heavy. They gradually made their way to the desk and dumped an object unceremoniously onto the floor. Mike glanced at it and exclaimed, "It's a GIRL!" "Oh, is that what that is?" Servo asked sarcastically. "I thought it was a some cabbage or a hot dog!" "What are you guys doing with a girl?" Mike asked angrily. "You didn't mail order a bride, did you?" "No!" Crow replied defensively. "But if I had known they come in this style, I woulda!" "Crow, not now," the man muttered. The girl groaned and everyone went silent and stared at her. She looked to be in her late teens, or early twenties, but she was dressed in the oddest fashion. She wore a white party dress with a exceptionally short skirt that had a slit going up the right leg, with red trim and a large, red "R" on the chest of it, which just drew the eye more toward the cup C sized breasts, much to the robots' happiness. Her hair was neck length, brown, and a small, scrubby topknot was on top her head. She also wore black, long gloves, black boots and a belt with three small red and white balls on it. "Do you know who this is?" Mike asked them, kneeling by the girl who still was out cold. The 'Bots shook their head. "No," Servo replied, "we were playing hide 'n' seek with Gypsy, and I had just found Crow when suddenly the lights went out, there was a scream, a thump, and this girl was on the ground. She saw us, screamed some more, and fainted." "She had THIS, though!" Crow pulled out a chawan bowl full of rice. "Could this probably identify her?" "I dunno," Mike shrugged. "Did one of you order out for Chinese and forget?" "I don't think so," Servo pondered. "No, wait . . . no, we didn't." Suddenly, the girl sat straight up, her jade green eyes wide and staring. She whimpered and covered her mouth, too shocked to scream again, or to pass out. She jumped to her feet and stumbled back against Cambot's entrance to the theater, (or at least that's the author's silly assumption), trying to melt into it, to hide from these strange beings. Mike stood, taking the chawan from Crow and holding it out to the girl as if telling her silently everything was all right. Her wide eyes lifted to his face from the chawan and she stammered a little, then said in a pleasant alto voice, "Doko? Doko!" Mike's smile fell and he stared at Crow and Servo questioningly. The red 'Bot whispered to him, "Lemme handle this." To the girl, he asked, "Ahem-- Konnichi wa! No namae wa nan desu ka. Watakusi no namae wa Tomu Saabo desu." "Watashi no namae wa Chibi-Hiro!" She sighed in relief. "Nihon-go ga hanna se masu ka!" Servo thought this over a little, then replied, "Sukoshi wakari masu." "Aa," she whispered, still a little frightened. "Eigo ga hanna se mesu ka." "Hai! Hai!" She laughed nervously. "Thank goodness! So you do speak English? Your pronunciation was TERRIBLE in Japanese! I could hardly understand you!" "You know English?" Crow asked in amazement. "What are you, Japanese or English?" "I'm Pokémonese! We speak both!" "Where'd you learn that, Servo?" Mike asked, amazed. "I picked it up off the inter-net, but apparently my pronunciation needs work," he mumbled. The girl laughed. "I thought you were saying you needed a servomechanism to fix your dinner! I dunno." "But I didn't say a thing that sounded like 'dinner'!" "Exactly, that's how bad it was!" Mike held out the chawan again and the girl eagerly took it, pulling out some chopsticks. "Hi, uh, I'm Mike Nelson. Who are you?" She finished stuffing her face with rice long enough to answer, "I'm called by several things! My Japanese name, that I told Tomu Saabo-san, was Roketto Chibi-Hiroyuki, or Chibi-Hiro to my friends." "You don't look SMALL," Crow stated, looking her up and down. With the heels she must have been five-ten or five-eleven. "Oh, I'm called 'Chibi' because there are two Hiroyuki's on the team, and, even though SHE'S younger, I joined the team after her, so they call me Chibi-Hiro." Before they could ask what team this was, she added, "My English name, however, is probably odder to you folks. It's Jaimielée Rocket Junior. For some reason they called me 'Junior'! They're all insane. My friends call me Jaimie-J, go ahead if ya want and call me that, if not, 'Jaimielée' will suffice." She continued scarfing down her lunch. "Well, Miss- uh- Jaimie-J, how'd you get on our satellite?" She glanced up and took a good look at her surroundings. "This is a satellite? Well, uh, I dunno." She knelt on the floor and whimpered, "I was sitting down with my partners to eat lunch, and then suddenly I saw this odd phantasm thing of a blonde, kinda roundish woman, and there was a light, I was falling, I landed on my rear, and suddenly I saw those two and they scared me so much I fainted." "What's this team you were talking about?" Servo inquired this time. She stood back to her feet, finishing off the rice. When he asked her that question, her eyes snapped open and her chawan dropped to the floor with a shatter. "You're tellin' me you don't know about Team Rocket?" she inquired back indignantly. "Didn't the large 'R' tip ya off?" "Well, I thought it looked familiar, but, uh, we don't have a Team Rocket where we come from except for in a show called 'Pokémon'." The girl laughed merrily. "Pokémon's not a SHOW! Pokémon are true animals! Where have you been livin'?" "On a satellite," Mike answered bluntly. She laughed some more. "What're ya tellin' me? I dimension hopped?" "That's exactly right!" a stern voice replied, then began to laugh harshly. Everyone spun around to stare at the communications screen. Jaimie-J shrieked and pointed with her chopsticks at the vision before her. "That was the lady I saw!" "Pearl?" the guys exclaimed. Castle Forrester: "That's right!" The mad scientist lady began to cackle, as only mad scientists can cackle. Satellite of Love: "But WHY!" Jaimie-J sobbed. "I wanna go back home! I was about to land a date with James when you suddenly appeared!" CF: "Well, I obviously picked the wrong girl. I got a little snot!" SoL: The girl gasped and she covered her mouth. She then pulled out a Pokéball. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'll show you! Chatte! I choose you!" Everyone stared with amazement as she tossed the red and white ball, a red beam of light shot out and it took on the shape of a cat of some sort. When the light cleared, there, flying through the air, was a Meowth with gangly limbs and a longer neck than what was normal for a scratch cat. Too late, she realized that she was pouncing for the hard surface of a communications screen. With a "bang!", Chatte crashed into the screen and fell on the floor, swirls in her eyes. "Chatte, my darling!" Jaimie-J ran up and took hold of her Pokémon. CF: Pearl smirked. "Cute, Miss Rocket. I obviously also got a bubble-head. Anyway, you are all probably wondering why I did this. Well, the answer is simple. I'm getting bored with you three guys." SoL: "Hey!" Mike, Servo and Crow all exclaimed, deeply offended, while Jaimie-J cooed over her injured Meowth. CF: "So, I got this wonderful idea. The Inter-Net's a big thing nowadays, right? Well, I figured I should try something new. See, on this Inter-Net," she walked over and stood next to a desk that had a computer on it, "there are fans of shows that write these awful things called 'fanfics'. Some are, I must admit, pretty darn good, but about fifty-nine percent of them stink to high heaven." She patted the monitor and announced proudly, "So, I decided to get some new test subjects, build a new satellite for them to live on, and I'd send them fanfics posted on websites through a computer link, and force them to read it. It should prove an interesting experiment." She sighed and wandered away from the monitor and towards Observer and Bobo, who were pounding on a large, metallic object with tools and the like. "But, I found that Brain Guy," she emphasized the name as she smacked the telekinetic albino upside the head, "isn't as omnipotent as he says he is, and we now have to spend time building this hunk of metal." Bobo walked over to her, his body covered in bandages. "Lawgiver, I hurt from hitting myself with the hammer, can I take a break?" She glared at him for a bit, then shrieked, "No! Get back to work, ya worthless simian!" With a few ape-like "ooks", he quickly shuffled back to the section of satellite he and Brain Guy were working on and resumed pounding with the hammer. He, of course, ultimately proceeded to smack himself in the forehead with his hammer, and he fell unconscious to the floor. "So, anyway, Nelson, little servants and annoying Team Rocket member, I have this beauty of a machine," she now went over to a large object that was covered with wires and shiny gizmos, "that transports people from their universes to this universe. Miss Rocket here came from, obviously, an Earth that is controlled by cute, tiny animals called 'Pokémon'. Somehow, this leaked into this Earth and the Japanese made it into a cartoon. How quaint these layers of universes are. So I grabbed this girl and brought her to the Satellite of Love because the new satellite hasn't been completed yet. I have bad laborers. So expect a couple of new girls, guys, until we finish our project!" She walked away from the transporter and back to the computer. "Since I don't have a bad movie for you today, I have a nice fanfic. Someone wrote one about you guys, isn't that just sad? And here it is. It's called 'A Typical Day on the Satellite', and trust me, it ISN'T a typical day!" She cackled again and pressed "enter" on the keyboard. She then noticed Bobo laying on the floor and she went over to kick him and yell at him to get back to work. SoL: Jaimie-J was standing next to Mike as she cradled Chatte in her arms. "Do you guys have a Center around here? My poor C-chan got a concussion!" "Uhmmmm," Mike glanced at the 'Bots. "I guess you could leave her here and let Gypsy take care of her." "Who's Gypsy?" "She's really nice!" Servo stated. "She'll take real good care of Chatte!" The lights and klaxons and the such began to go off, scaring Jaimie-J and the Meowth. "What's that?!" the girl shouted above the pandemonium as she laid Chatte on the desk. "That's our signal to get into the theater before Pearl kills us!" Crow told her. He took hold of her hand with his claw and pulled her along. "Come on! I'll show you the way!" "Yaa, domo arigatoo!" ~*~*~*~*~*~ (all enter and take their sets, Crow is in the first seat, Mike the second, Servo the third and Jaimie-J takes the fourth.) JAIMIE: Well, from what you told me, this sounds like fun! MIKE: It SEEMS fun at first, then it becomes hell. JAIMIE: Oh, is that so? Well, it sounds fun anyway. >Dear Timothy, SERVO: Screw you. Sincerely, Rachael. > >This is a fanfic which a fan of mine made and sent to me. CROW: (author) I die 16 times, does that mean something? >It's a cute little story and I would like it if you posted it up on your website. JAIMIE: (author) Unless if your website is truly just your web of deceit, then I want nothing to do with it. MIKE: There, you got the hang of it. JAIMIE: Ooo, yay! > >Yours Truly, >Jamie Jeans SERVO: Hey, the dude with that ninja chick person, uh, what's her name . . . >A Typical Day on the Satelite CROW: Geez, it just began and there are already misspellings! >WRITTEN BY: Ann C. Schumin MIKE: Ann C. Schumin the schmoozer. >EDITED BY: Jamie Jeans JAIMIE: Ann never should've had it edited, it's probably not as good as her original version. >Disclaimer: Jamie Jeans (xwing@perf.bc.ca) owns Samantha, SERVO: That's the gal! Samantha Jones! You know how sometimes our experiments are broadcast, so Pearl can make an extra couple of bucks? MIKE: Yeah. SERVO: Well, people have been doing this for awhile, it isn't a new idea. CROW: Been doing what? SERVO: Riffing bad fanfics! Jamie Jeans is one and he has a character named Samantha Jones that does some of the riffing with us, or other people. MIKE: Okay, sounds cool. >I do have his permission. JAIMIE: (Ann) My mom signed the slip. >Best Brains Productions owns Mike, Tom, and Crow, SERVO: See, that's Pearl's undercover production name, it used to belong to Dr. F, but we all know what happened to him. CROW: Ooh, yeah. >I don't have their permission. MIKE: (Ann) My mom said I couldn't go on that trip. >I'm not making any money, yadda yadda yadda. Note: Please send all comments, flames, >MSTings, whatever to either angryann@poe.org or jean_leger@mailcity.com JAIMIE: Hey, remember that address! We can use it for later! SERVO: Ann's angry, that must be the e-mail address for *that time of the month*. >"Where are we, Gypsy?" Michael Nelson asked, rubbing his eyes as he walked onto the bridge. >Gypsy, a tall, purple robot with vacuum-cleaner-like device for a head CROW: It's actually a babyseat. JAIMIE: That looks like it would hurt the baby sitting in it! >glanced over at her readings. >"We're somewhere over the United States of America. MIKE: It's nice to see that it's still in power over the rest of the Earth. >More specifically, over the state of Virginia." SERVO: Oh, great, so the state of Virginia rules over the world? CROW: That would certainly be interesting. >Mike walked over to a port hole and crossed his arms, regarding the view below thoughtfully. JAIMIE: (Mike's thoughts) The Earth's sort of ROUND, isn't it? >"I don't suppose it would be possible for you to bring us lower for a better view... would it?" >The man's voice was wistful. MIKE: Well, I HAVE always wanted to see Virginia. >"Sorry, Mike," Gypsy replied, shattering Mike's glass hopes of returning home. "It'd be >impossible without Dr. F finding out." SERVO: Yeah, we don't want him to call and throw us empty threats! >Mike sighed, uncrossed his arms, and turned away from the view. "I guess I'll go wake up Sam CROW: Sam Spayed? Since when has he lived on the satellite? >and the others. Could you start breakfast?" he asked. JAIMIE: (Gypsy) No! I always make breakfast! Just 'coz I'm a woman doesn't make me your slave! Blow it out your ear! I'm going to go kill myself now, bye! MIKE: Was that fun? JAIMIE: Quite. >"Certainly. What would you like?" >"Just some waffles, thanks." THE 'BOTS: Waffles! Our fans remember! MIKE: (as Joel) Pancakes!-- Oh, I blew it . . . >Mike walked out of the bridge to the sleeping quarters. Gypsy released a fairly good imitation of >a sigh. JAIMIE: She didn't truly care about Mike's problems, but she did a fairly good imitation of it. >"The poor guy's so homesick, he'll crack if he can't at least get a look at Earth. SERVO: I thought he just did! CROW: Geez, Mike, you're never satisfied! >The movies won't do him in, the Satellite of Love will..." JAIMIE: But I think it's a nice place, I wouldn't mind living in it. CROW: Easy for a newcomer to say. We've been here for over five hundred years. MIKE: Well, you at least, for most of that time, the rest of us were pure energy. JAIMIE: You guys are weird. I think I wanna go home now. > >Mike stood at the Star Trek-like door leading to Samantha Jones's sleeping quarters. He >unconsciously bit his lip, SERVO: He drew blood, Mike likes the taste of blood. CROW: He often uses that in the stead of ketchup. >then touched the button that would allow him access to the room. JAIMIE: What if she were in her underwear in there? MIKE: Then Mike thought, "What am I thinking! That'd be GREAT!" And he opened the door without knocking first. >The door quietly slid open, showing Samantha laying on her bed, smiling slightly in her >sleep. SERVO: Oh, yuck, I hope this doesn't turn into a lemon. CROW: Then Mike was shocked to see where her hand was. JAIMIE: Stop trying to traumatize me, you guys! >"Samantha?" Mike called softly from the doorway. "Wake up. MIKE: You're at school, Samantha. In your underwear, Samantha. >Gypsy's making us breakfast." Samantha opened a single gray eye and glared at >him sleepily. >"Leave me alone, Mike. I wanna sleep." SERVO: (Sam) I'm having a *good* dream, you're in it. >"I'll leave you alone when you get out of bed," Mike replied. >" 'I'll leave you alone when you get out of bed, ' " Samantha mimicked him. MIKE: I don't think I like Samantha Jones! She's rude! >She shoved off the covers and stood up. "I'm up. Now go away." >Mike's dark eyes widened perceptibly. CROW: Someone's been using the thesaurus! JAIMIE: Mike, your eyes look kinda slate colored to me. MIKE: Let the fans think what they want. Just don't put me in a compromising situation. >Samantha wore a jade colored silk nightshirt that ended about five inches above her knees, >revealing legs that started in mid-air and ended on the floor. SERVO: Like most legs. >And it was a long, long trip down. CROW: What a great roller coaster idea! JAIMIE: Come ride the Samantha Jones' Legs ride! You go midair, then to the floor, and it's a long, long trip down! >"Uh, yeah, right," Mike stammered. "I'll go get Tom and Crow." MIKE: I wouldn't stutter over THAT. I didn't stutter when I saw Jaimie-J, here. SERVO: How high's your skirt, Jaimie-J? JAIMIE: (produces ruler out of nowhere, a TR trick, and measures) Uh, oh, for cripe's sake, it's NINE inches above my knees. SERVO: These people are just out to peg you as this non-sex getting being. Even though it IS true. MIKE: Uh, thanks for defending me, I guess. CROW: Maybe you should go on a date, try to score with a girl. Who do you know locally? MIKE: Uh, Gypsy, but that's a no. Uh, Pearl, definite no. And Jaimie-- THE GUYS: Hey~ MIKE: Hey, Jaimielée, wanna go out sometime? JAIMIE: Sure, why not? THE GUYS: Yes! SERVO: Mike, you're gonna score! CROW: She's so air-headish you probably only hafta give her ginger ale and she'll be hammered! MIKE: I don't wanna get her drunk. I want her to love me for who I am. SERVO: Or get her really really drunk, right? MIKE: No! You're missing the point! >As he turned to go to the 'bot's sleeping quarters, he felt something strange in the air. JAIMIE: Or in his pants, you decide. SERVO: Hey, good one, Jaimie-J! JAIMIE: Why, thank you, Saabo-san! >Arguing voices floated to Mike and Samantha's ears. >"Surd died in 'Digital Doublecross'!" >"No, he DIDN'T! Jessie just trapped him in QuestWorld for all eternity!" >"That's close enough!" A gold robot walking on stick-like legs, followed by a small silver robot >with a gumball machine for a head, CROW: Servo's not silver! He has some silver, but he is a mixture of metals that are painted red. >appeared at the end of the hall. >"Miiiiiiiiike!" Crow, the gold robot, whined. "Tell Tom that Surd died!" MIKE: Okay, first you tell me who's Surd? SERVO: From "The New Adventures of Johnny Quest". MIKE: Oh, okay. Whatever. >"But he didn't!" Tom, the gumball machine-headed robot, protested in the same tone. "Dying >and being trapped are two very different things!" >The two humans exchanged bemused glances. >"Well, Crow, I have to agree with T--" Samantha started. Just then, a loud, and very bad >rendition of "Stayin' Alive" by the BeeGees pounded through hidden speakers. CROW: Dr. F came up with a new mad experiment, didn't he? JAIMIE: (Dr. F) Let's see how many times I can play this before their heads all explode. >"What the hell--?" Tom said, swirling around. >Standing in front of an airlock were three rather annoyed-looking young women dressed in >black. MIKE: Oooh, black accentuates the figure. SERVO: We're being visited by the beatnik sluts of space. >"Good God, how many times do we have to go through with this?" grumbled the one in the >middle, a tall brunette. JAIMIE: Someone foretold my coming! I sometimes wear black, I'm tall, and I'm a brunette! CROW: (sarcastic) This is *so* spooky. >She turned her face towards the ceiling. "IT'S "MEN IN BLACK", NOT "STAYIN' ALIVE' !" >"Stayin' Alive" quickly shut off and "Men in Black" began playing. MIKE: Even though they are not men. SERVO: Does this mean they're going to erase all our memories? CROW: That'd be cool. JAIMIE: We'd all murder each other for fear of not knowing each other. SERVO: Or we could be turned into vegetables. CROW: Double cool! >"Now that that's over with," JAIMIE: The fanfic skipped ahead of us. MIKE: Maybe there was something written there not meant for our eyes. >said the one on the right, a auburn-haired girl, "we can get on with introductions." >"Allow me," said the one on the left, a bespectacled brunette. She stepped in front of the other >two and said, "Hi. I'm Agent A, she's Agent B"--she gestured to the other brunette--"and that's >Agent C." SERVO: The ladies of Project: A-ko dye their hair and torment those aboard the Satellite of Love. CROW: You just HAD to make that joke. SERVO: The chance was there, I had to take it. MIKE: Just as long as Gypsy keeps Agent C out of the galley, we'll be okay. >She pointed to the auburn-haired girl. >"I'm Samantha Jones," Samantha said, stepping in front of her fellow MSTiers protectively. JAIMIE: -barkbarkbark! Grrr- >"He's Mike Nelson, MIKE: Nice ta meetchya! Please don't kill me or hurt me in anyway. >the gold robot's Crow, CROW: Come near me and I'll bite your hand off! >and the robot with a gumball machine for a head is Tom." SERVO: Do ANYthing to me, ladies! I mean, ANYthing you want! >"Why are you here?" Mike asked. >"We've got a once-in-a-lifetime deal for your robot buds," JAIMIE: Oh, so soon you guys will blossom and turn into robot flowers? >Agent B said. >"Really? What what what?" both robots chorused. >"A chance..." Agent C paused for dramatic effect. MIKE: (Agent C) . . . at the game of "Life"! >"TO BE HUMAN!" all three girls yelled. Crow's jaw dropped as far as it could. >"Really?" he asked, awed. >"Really," confirmed Agent A. "We can even get you off the Satellite." CROW: (Agent A) All ya need is a parachute and we push ya out the airlock. >The two robots turned to Mike and Samantha. >"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze?" they begged in unison. Mike laughed. SERVO: (Mike) It's just so funny! I have to laugh! JAIMIE: One of the agents' skirts must be tucked into her underwear. MIKE: (as himself) I dunno, being human requires a lot of responsibility. You have to feed and water yourself daily. CROW: We'd kill ourselves in one hour if we were ever changed to human. >"Okay," he said to the 'bots. To the girls, he said, "How much will I owe you three?" Agent B >grinned. SERVO: Ooo, looks like Mikey's gonna get a pretty fair deal. Rowr. >"Nothing," she replied. "We don't charge." At this statement, Samantha and Mike both >facefaulted. JAIMIE: The new sporting event at the Olympics, facefaulting! MIKE: It's Mike from Wisconsin and Samantha from Canada, who will win the gold? >"You don't charge?" Samantha repeated, picking herself up off the floor. CROW: (Samantha) Mike, pick up your bowling balls! I'm trippin' on them! >"No," Agent C said, clearly irritated. "I suppose that means you've agreed. Do you have a place >we can operate in?" SERVO: I'm totally lost, so you DIDN'T want to do this for free, Mike? MIKE: I guess not. CROW: And how does that mean you agreed? JAIMIE: Maybe half of this 'fic is part sign language. >"Er, yeah," Mike replied. "The rec room should do nicely." SERVO: (Mike) There's a billiard table, a fooseball table, air hockey, take your pick. >Agents B and C led Tom and Crow off to the rec room while Agent A stayed with Mike and >Samantha. >"Why aren't you going with your friends?" Samantha asked her. MIKE: (A) I thought I'd just stay and keep the engine running for a faster escape, just in case my colleagues screw up. >Agent A shivered. >"I can't stand the sight of blood," she replied. "Besides, I'm an absolute klutz in the operating >room." CROW: She means she can't stand the sight of motor oil. >A shrill scream rocked the satellite. SERVO: Meanwhile, Aerosmith plays a concert next door. JAIMIE: Who's Aerosmith? SERVO: You don't know? JAIMIE: Nope. There's a band called Aerodactyl Smith, but not Aerosmith. SERVO: Looks like will hafta teach you a few other things other than how to riff. >"That was Crow!" Mike gasped. "What are they doing to those poor 'bots?" Agent A smiled >reassuringly, though it was clear from her eyes she wasn't sure why she was reassuring them. >"Don't worry," she said happily. "They'll be out in fifteen minutes." > MIKE: Seven years later . . . >Fifteen minutes later, Mike, Samantha, and Agent A had settled in Mike's room and were playing >Egyptian Ratscrew. Agent B appeared in the doorway and said, "They're done!" Beside her, >Agent C imitated a turkey timer. >"That was pointless and in very bad taste," a male voice said from behind them. >"Aren't all my jokes?" Agent C shot back. For this, the male had no reply. CROW: C-ko's fun. SERVO: Pray to God she didn't do the operation. >"Can we see them?" Samantha asked eagerly. >"Sure, if you want to," Agent B said. JAIMIE: We kinda made them deformed human/robot hybrids, hope you don't mind freaks! >She and Agent C stepped apart to reveal two very handsome young men. MIKE: Must be Leonardo DeCaprio and Ricky Martin. >One had short dark brown hair, serious-looking grey eyes, and a slim build. CROW: What're are they doing with Jim Carrey? >The other had blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, sparkling blue eyes, and a slightly more >muscular build. JAIMIE: Hey, it's my old partner before I got transferred to Jessie and James! What's Chaplin doin' here? >Samantha's jaw thudded on the floor. SERVO: That must hurt. The Agents will hafta help her screw the hinges back into her jaw, now. >"Who are these guys?" Mike asked, his eyes still on the young men as he helped Samantha get >her jaw back into place. MIKE: I hope Miss Ann isn't insinuating something. CROW: About what? You staring at the young, nubile men, or being so dangerously close to Sam's mouth? MIKE: Either one. >"I'm Tom," said the dark-haired young man, revealing himself as the male voice who had scolded >Agent C. SERVO: Everyone picks on poor C-ko. >"And I'm Crow!" the blonde guy said, flashing a killer smile. JAIMIE: (sarcastic) Killed me nearly half to death. CROW: Hey, I have a killer smile! SERVO: You CAN'T smile! CROW: I can make my jaw go lopsided, does that count? >"How do you do this?" Samantha asked, amazed. >"Some flesh, a little intuition, and a lot of duct tape," Agent C said, SERVO: Sounds like what we do to Mike whenever he gets injured. >brushing some auburn hair out of her eyes. >"Samantha, now that I'm human, I have a question to ask you," Tom said, his cheeks flushing a >rather attractive shade of crimson. JAIMIE: (pinches Servo's "cheek") But mister funny man here always is an attractive shade of crimson! >"Yeah?" Samantha said, smiling. Tom stepped into the room, knelt before Samantha, and took >her hands into his. MIKE: (Servo) Will you play cat's cradle with me? Now that I have workable hands, I can finally play! >"Will you marry me?" CROW: She then proceeds to cut off his newly acquired equipment from offense. >"Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!" > SERVO: I'm such a ladies man. CROW: Why didn't _I_ get Sam? I have the killer smile! MIKE: Why didn't _I_? I got to see her legs that began midair and ended on the floor! JAIMIE: Why didn't _I_? I'm more attractive than you guys. SERVO: You're a girl! JAIMIE: So? >Ten years later, Samantha Servo woke up to a high-pitched wailing. MIKE: (Samantha) Come now, Tom, it isn't THAT bad! SERVO: I'm still getting used to my new equipment. >She groaned and buried her head into her pillow. Ever since she and Tom had brought their >daughter, Mishelle, home from the hospital, a full night's sleep was but a fantasy. CROW: I don't think I'LL have a full night's sleep for quite awhile after reading this. >Samantha rolled out of bed, JAIMIE: . . . landed on her neck and broke it . . . >walked down the dark hallway, JAIMIE: . . . where she was promptly devoured by a monster . . . >and stumbled into Mishelle's room. JAIMIE: . . . where she ran into the corner of the dresser. MIKE: You're out for blood. JAIMIE: I figured we were being too clean, had to make it intersting. >She reached down, lifted the child out of her crib, and rubbed her back while she waited for >Mishelle to get over this bout of colic. Finally, the one-year-old coughed up the troublesome gas >and went back to sleep. ALL: Ech~ CROW: The private life of babies I did not want to hear. SERVO: Just don't get into the science of changing a diaper. >Samantha walked out of the room, back to hers, and snuggled back under the warm covers. > MIKE: So where's Servo? JAIMIE: They're divorced, a robot turned human just couldn't provide enough money for a family. CROW: It took you ten years just to have a baby, Servo? Loser. SERVO: At least _I_ got Sam! MIKE: I wonder where I am? SERVO: Back doing temp jobs. CROW: I joined you, I suppose. JAIMIE: What about poor Gypsy and Cambot? Are they still up in the satellite? MIKE: How did they sneak us past Dr. F and Frank? SERVO: They probably assassinated them. CROW: It's a sad day when the government uses tax money just to turn robots into humans and send them to Earth. MIKE: That's gonna be an X-File episode one day. > >Both fortunately and unfortunately, she never noticed the three young women dressed in black >outside of Mishelle's window. They slapped each other THE GUYS: (various imitations of the Three Stooges) >five, and with a whispered victory cry, they walked into the distance. > >FIN. JAIMIE: Oh, I see now, we were watching a FOREIGN fanfic! SERVO: THAT was the problem! CROW: Well, what a fun and disturbing fanfic! MIKE: It was cute. JAIMIE: This is very confusing. It hurts! So people watch you on TV? Does that mean they can see you when you go to the loo? SERVO: It doesn't quite work like that . . . CROW: This has inspired me! Jaimie-J, wanna get married? MIKE: Hey! Don't horn in on my date, Crow. CROW: Geez, Mike, sorry! SERVO: Let's get outta here, you clowns. JAIMIE: I'm no clown! (all exeunt) ~*~*~*~*~*~ This is an account on how Michael J. Nelson's and Jaimielée Rocket Junior's date went. The more intimate details came from Mike's diary, which the 'Bots stole, read, and wrote this account for Pearl to enjoy and torture Mike with later on in his life. Some of it is paraphrased, the more important highlights are not. The rest of it came from what the 'Bots saw, following the two around: First off, Mike described what she looked like. In a shorter paragraph than what he gave, she looked marvelous in a blue satin gown, with no sleeves and a collar that held together by a pin at the neck. She took the ponytail out of her hair, but it was in the same style other than that. He took her to the galley for a specially prepared dinner by Gypsy. Jaimie-J had more fun speaking with Gypsy from the sounds of it, more than she did Mike. Mike finally had to drag Jaimie-J out and forced the dear girl to eat in the bridge. He regaled her with tales from his life and times in the big and loud Midwest. Lucky for him, she came from the Midwest of Pokémon Island, (which must explain her accent), and she regaled him right back with her own stories. Then she told him stories about her time on Team Rocket. "My old partner was Chaplin. He was cool, kinda dumb, but he provided-- er-- *entertainment*. I was transferred to Jessie, James and Meowth in hopes I would be a better example . . . Jessie hated me, I liked James, James liked Jessie, Meowth hit on poor Chatte a lot . . ." Mike then inquired about what Pokémon Jaimie-J kept. She swore that she caught all of these on her own, except for Chatte, who she received from her local "Professor Oak", if one will. With Chatte, she caught a Caterpie that she named Veronica. Veronica eventual evolved into a Metapod, and then a Butterfree. She now knows all her attacks, including Solar Beam, the strongest one Butterfrees know. Later, she caught a Cubone, which then evolved into a Marowak. She named her, "Hira-Hira", and Jaimie-J says that this aggressive looking thing is the sweetest creature in the world. Later, Mike took her on a guided tour through the satellite, to get her familiar. He showed her the sights, showed her where all our bedrooms were, the bathroom, the rec. room, the den, the cellar, the viewing balcony, the exercise room, the swim pool . . . You get it. She seemed to be totally amazed by this and she seems more eager to stay then Mike did when he first showed up. As time progressed, Jaimie-J became more flirtatious. Crow and I have come to the conclusion that if she weren't a Team Rocket member, she very well would have become a prostitute. A rich one, at that, for she's quite good. (Or she could seduce men, and steal all their money as they prepared for a night they would not soon forget, a la Kennou Hibiki.) With Jaimie-J draped on his arm, Mike showed her to her room, which now had a nameplate on it saying "Jaimielée R. Jr.", courtesy of Gypsy. He opened the door for her, as should all gentlemen to a lady, (it's nice to see he isn't a too big of an uncultured bovine). She stood at the door, leaning in and looking. She declared that Pearl had brought some of her possessions from her dimension, and was pleased to see that she had all her other clothes, uniforms and dresses. (She borrowed the dress that she is currently wearing from Crow, who, for some odd reason, stores them. CROW'S NOTE: It's no odder than collecting UNDERWEAR.) She turned back around and leaned on the doorjamb, making poor Mike to fluster and turn red. At this point, he can hear me and Crow behind him, calling, "C'mon Mike, make your move! Lucky lucky! Goooo Mikey!" Jaimie-J apparently heard us as well, and she got a sly look on her face. She grabbed Mike by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward. She whispered something, of which we could not decipher a bit of, and Mike nodded-- to which Jaimie-J planted a nice big wet one on his lips. We were, to say the least, stunned and were oddly proud of our dear Mikey. Giving a cunning smirk, Jaimie-J dragged a red-faced Mike into her room, and she kicked the door shut behind her. At this point, I suggested leaving, Crow wanted to listen at the keyhole, (even though there are no keyholes). I said no and we walked off to our rooms, waiting for the next day to tease Mike unmercifully. The End ______________________________________________________________________________ Kinda a frightening story, ain't it? The 'Bots as real guys, shudder. But I thought it made a decent first episode! I wonder, was Ann trying to make the 'Bots look like their voice actors? Trace has kinda blondish hair, I swear it's in a ponytail, and Bill Corbett has darkish brownish hair. That'd be kinda funny if he hadn't been slim built. Maybe the agents put Bill and Paul Chaplin together and got Servo's new body! So, er, the date thing. Well, people who has read the Search for Mewtwo are probably shrieking, "But Jaimielée's TEN!" Wrong Jaimielée, yes, Jaimielée is ten, but Jaimie-J is, let's say . . . 21, 22, basically, an adult. And the date, well, the ending and -er- all that, well, I don't want people to get pissed at me, so here's a spoiler: IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK. You'll find out next episode. ^_^ Well, what did ya think of my new series pilot episode? Send me C&C, and if ya wanna flame, PLEASE do it nicely! PLEASE! I may be egotistical, but anything harsh will shatter me, for about a minute or two, but still, it's the principle of the thing. I'm still waiting for an angry person to e-mail me and send me a nasty 'fic like "Dark SVAM". Ech, that was nasty. I'm sure that there is a big fan of the Rocket Princess Trilogy silently brooding out there, waiting for the right time to send me a dark hentai 'fic where everyone sleeps with each other then murder each other. But they must remember, I didn't steal the fanfic, I asked her and she gave me the okay, like most authors I do! The e-mail, I believe, is . . . I can't even remember my own address. Actually, just e-mail me at . The other one is mostly for me to use to send huge amounts of attachments to people. Thanks! GAIKU: Remember kids, don't have sex until you are ready, at least till you are 13. But remember, use a condom, at least till you are 17. Thank you . . . What? What's the matter? ______________________________________________________________________________ Samantha wore a jade colored silk nightshirt that ended about five inches above her knees, revealing legs that started in mid-air and ended on the floor. © 1999 Jaimielée Rocket Next Fanifc: "The Destruction of the Pervect Demons", by She-wolf.