G
Guest
Guest
------------------------------------------
%theme music>
In the not-too-distant future,
This coming Tuesday, you see
There was this boy named Bluepencil
Not so different from you or me
He worked at FIYAR Institute,
Just another guy in an official green jumpsuit...
He did a great job cleaning up the place....
But his bosses really hated himmm...
So they shot him into _space_!!!!
(The mad, mad Dr. Alchitran peers into a computer printout and laughs maniacally. )
We'll send him sucky fanfics
The worst we can find (yubyub)
He'll have to sit and read them all and we'll monitor his mind (yubyub)
Now keep in mind B-pen can't control
When the fics begin or end (yubyubyubub)
Because he used those special parts
To make his robot friends;
ROBOT ROLL CALL:
CowLord: Master of the Pasture
'Izz it in RTF?!!'
Gummert: Bubblegum dispenser crashed
'Whit...pass the popcorn'
Sparks: Multicultural vacuum cleaner
'Like, kewl, mon.!'
Crawler: Drain plug. No further explantion necessary.
'*lecherous grin*'
If you're wondering how the Bluepencil eats and breathes
And other science facts (yubyub)
Then repeat to yourself
*It's just a RIFF*
You should really just relax.....
for the BOOJUM'S MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 4000!
-----------------------
.
.
.
.
.
You may stop screaming blooody manslaughter now. ..
Really. There is no reason to take up that Turbo Plasma Rifle.
.
Relax. This fic is not a RIFF. It's a perfectly normal, sensible work.
.
Roight.
.
Wanna buy a bridge?
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
It's..........
*The Big Argument That Leads To Nowhere In Particular*
or the......
~~~~~~~ *TBATLTOIP* !!!~~~~~~~~
Compilation 1
.
.
.
.
.
A Sattelite of Java(tm) fic
.
.
.
.
.
Warning: Pure, unrevised First Draft. Blatant rip-offs. Totally senseless and wandering!
------------------------------------------
On Cultures, Existence and the Holy Cheese Sticks:
.
,
(The camera aggressively zooms into the revolving Sattelite of Jave, into a window, and bounces off rather savagely. It spins wildy in space and careens into a passing asteroid.
Static.
.
Ahem.
,
New camera.
The new camera is smarter than its predecessor, and recognized that trying to go through the tellarite windows was futile. It zoomed around the SoJ, broke open a vent, and snuck in. It comes out in a wide, comfortable hall...)
(Bpen comes in.)
Crawler: Hey, look! B-pen wearing a skirt!
Gummert: (turns) Gah!
Sparks: Oh my God, mon!
B-pen: Arrgh! It's not a skirt! It's called a ~hakama~! (spreads feet apart) See it's just very loose pants.
Crawler: Okay, divided skirts, then.
B-pen: Argh...
Gummert: Bluepen...
B-pen: What?
Gummert: Just WHY are you wearing a divided skirt?
B-pen: ~HAKAMA~!
Gummert: Uh...why are you wearing a...hakama? <How the hell do you pronounce "~"?!!>
B-pen: My mind is unfocused. I need to calm my nerves.
Crawler: And cross-dressing calms you down? Kinky.
B-pen: (thwops Crawler over the head with a wooden sword) No, idiot! It's for kendo practice!
Sparks: Hai, kenkaku-mon!
B-pen: Huh? I didn't program you with the Nippongo language, Sparks..how did you....
Sparks: Like, the radio, mon.
B-pen: The TOC? Trans-dimesional Otaku Channel?
Sparks: Ja!
Gummert: Will you two please start speaking in a language we can understand!!
B-pen / Sparks: Jameh. Gummara jehu zamarkath'li ...*grin*
Gummert: ngggh..
B-pen: *laughs* Don't worry. I'll program you to understand Appalica too.
Crawler: Appalica?
B-pen: The Holy Languange of the Appalit people.
Crawler: Eh?
B-pen: Gummert, dig into your database and explain, please.
Gummert: Okay...working...........................................ah!! Hey. Just one entry? Appalica/Appalita - people of Appallit. sysn. Gofer of the Gods.
B-pen: There.
Gummert: Gofer of the Gods? What kind of designation is that??
B-pen: Exactly what it means.
Gummert: Rubbish.
Bpen: *grin* What do you mean...rubbish?
Gummert: Gods don't exist. They're just figments of the imagination.
B-pen: Remind me to take you to Cybertron sometime....but on the point, how can you be sure? After all, what we haven't seen doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
Gummert: There's no proof.
B-pen: There's no dis-proof.
Gummert: Geh. All the facts show that it's not possible for the Gods to exist, for a Higher Supervising Being that creates All Things(tm).
B-pen: All things? You're saying that you'd recognize a God that creates stuff. Just being a Creator makes a God. Ergo..I created you..so does that make me your God?
Gummert: Hell no.
B-pen: But you just said that you recognize a Creator as God.
Gummert: But I said All Things(tm).
B-pen: Right. But still, as your Creator, why am I not worshipped?
Gummert: You get enough of that from CowLord.
B-pen: Precisely!
Gummert: Geh?
B-pen: Just being a Creator doesn't guarantee recognition as a Divinity. However, it's relatively simple, the task of being treated as one.
Gummert: Your point being...
B-pen: The fact that you haven't found God means that God Created All Things with a sense of purpose, and that purpose lies upon our own decisions and destiny.
Gummert: You're muddling the argument, B-pen.
B-pen: No, no..see...Godhood is a realtive concept.
Gummert: Aa...so..
B-pen: So....uh......what started this train of thought anyway?
Sparks: Appalicans, mon.
B-pen: Right. So, Appalicans consider the individuals they serve as Gods. And Appalicans are also considered as Gods by lesser races..and so on and so forth.
Gummert: And that means...who IS God, anyway?
Crawler: Orgasm.
B-pen: What the hell...? Crawler!!
Crawler: Wait..I think I may have to contribute to your stupid arguments with the Gumbo here this time..
B-pen: Talk.
Crawler: Gods are a...manifestation of desire. That's why there are many Gods for different things...like Love, or Creation, or Sex. We want things to make sense..and to make things make sense, we need to forget that all things happen by accident, and hope that there really is a guiding order to all this..
Gummert: *sproing*
B-pen: I didn't know you could be insightful, Crawler.
Crawler: I read it in Penthouse. Issue 12. There was a whole section devoted to the creationism manifesto.
B-pen: *eyebrow twitch* Argh.
Sparks: What's de world coming to.
B-pen: The upshot of progress has disastrous effects on ethical ideas.
Crawler: I detect a phallic reference.....
B-pen: YOU DETECT A PHALLIC REFRENCE IN EVERY GODDAMN THING I SPIT OUT!!
Crawler: Fine. I'll just go over to this corner and read my back issues, then.
Gummert: That's good. Stay there.
B-pen: I'll go try to calm down now.
(Bpen goes into the center of the rom and starts to take combat stances. He swordplays against an imaginary opponent. Soon, his face loses the tenseness, and he relaxes, and his movements become more fluid and precise.)
Crawler: Eh?
Sparks: Like, good stroke, mon.
Crawler: What's the point to all this dancing around? Where's the fancy sword slashes?
Gummert: You have been watching Highlander too much. Real swordsmanship isn't about speed or who get to decapitate whos head off first.
Crawler: Then what?
Sparks: Becomwng One with de universe, mon.
Crawler: Then crawl into a 747's Jet turbines. I guarantee that you'll be One with de Universe.....
Gummert: Geh? Look, this is beyond your capacity to understand.
Crawler: Try me.
Gummert: It's about achieving the state of perfection, a state in which all other things don't matter, where all things are focused. and all things are natural and perfect in their motion.
Crawler: Orgasm.
Sparks: (thwops Crawler over the head with his handy fhuge mallet.) Not dat thread again. mon.
Crawler: Nurrgh................look, it really isn't as pervrted as you might think.
Gummert: Hm....he may be right, you know....
Spakrks: Like, how?
Gummert: Acessing database............state of Nirvana. A state of pure joy, of pure delight, of pure wonder in living, of intense pleasure. Sound familiar?
Sparks: Oh, right, mon.
Crawler: So..you think the Bluepencil's achieved...Nirvana yet?
Gummert: The word is...Zen. Ah. Right. Zen. Wa. The word for it is Zen.
Sparks: Only one way to find out, mon.
(Sparks shoots a paint granade out to B-pen's head. As usual, his aim is precise and flawless. But at the last second, B-pen turns his head, his eyes still closed, and swats the granade back with the pommel of his blade.
The paint grenade arcs back to Sparks and explodes, covering the multicultural vacuum cleaner into a splortchy shade of pink.
B-pen continues his flow, unaware of what he's done.)
Crawler: Cool!
Gummert: Yeheap.
Sparks: Like, damn.
(B-pen steps up rapidly and makes a big downward swoop with the blade. He snaps forward, and they saw that the manouver could easily slice a man in half.
B-pen relaxes and sheaths the bokken away. He opens his eyes and a wide grin forms on his face.)
B-pen: Woohoo!!
Crawler: Eh?
Gummert: So..had a rush?
B-pen: Ah, I forgot how utterly mind-refeshing a good ~kata~ is. Being in the Sattelite of Java kind of made me too set against any forms of exercise.
Crawler: I'll say. *pokes B-pen's belly.*
B-pen: Hey! You saying I'm being fat?
Crawler: If you were a girl, there would be no correct answer to that question. However, since you are a guy, and I like to insult you...yes, you ARE fat.
B-pen: Thank God!
Crawler: Hah?
B-pen: Gummert, describe me, please.
Gummert: Weird. Insane. Caffeine-overdosed. Probably possesed by evil spirits, too.
B-pen: Argh.
Crawler: Okay..tall, thin, lanky. Losing hair...has a lisp, tendency to ma-
B-pen: That's enough datum.
Gummert: B-pen _WANTS_ to gain weight.
B-pen: Right.
Sparks: I don' understand it, mon.
B-pen: What the hell happened to yo.... what don't you understand?
Sparks: Why you're so concerned about lookin' good, mon. After all, there ain't no chicks out here to make you dig.
Crawler: A VERY WOEFUL FACT!!
B-pen: Go back to your stack of Playboys.
Crawler: Yes. Ahh...come to me, my pretties...
B-pen: *sighs* I wonder sometimes.....what demon prodded me to make that 'bot.
Crawler: I have sensed another pha-
B-pen: Crawler!
Crawler: *grins lecherously and turns back to his reading*
B-pen: *groans*
Gummert: Perhaps it was a moment of temporary insanity.
B-pen: Gummert, I _KNOW_ it was a moment of insanity, but .... what caused it?
Gummert: The sun in your eye?
B-pen: Nah.
Gummert: Alien subterfuge?
B-pen: C'mon....
Sparks: Like, something you ate, maybe?
B-pen: Hmm...*poses* You're nothing but a work of my imagination! An undigested slab of cheese in my tummy! *stops posing* Heh.
Gummert: You're as bad an Impressionist as you are at Singing.
B-pen: Hey..I'm not that bad..
Sparks: Yes, you are, mon.
B-pen: Okay, okay...I see no need to argue this. With practice, I'll......
Gummert: NO!!!
B-pen: Hehe.
Gummert: *moves closer and whispers into his ear* What I'd like you is to dismantle Crawler.
B-pen: What? No way!
Gummert: Why not?
B-pen: It's tantamount to murder.
Gummert: He's just a 'bot. Just until he 'gets fixed'.
B-pen: So are you. Would you like me to break you open and meddle with what makes you who you are? The CI chip, coupled with the Free Will(tm) processor that you 'bots have..it's what sets you all apart from each other. It's your essence, your soul. And you want me to tamper with that in him?!
Gummert: ......
(CowLord comes in.)
CowLord: It eez Dinner time!
Crawler: Cool!
Sparks: Like, bring it on, mon!
CowLord: Your daily dose of cholesterol, Mazter B-pen...*bovine grin*
B-pen: Thanks, Cowlord.
Crawler: Burgers? Cheese sticks?
CowLord: And az for you all...*sets down a plate filled with lugnuts and tins of premium motor oil. *
(Crawler begins guzzling oil, while Sparks vacuums up the lugnuts to be digested in his internal nanofactory.)
Sparks: Like, yum. It makes my taste receptors sizzle, mon. Good cooking, CowLord.
Crawler: Yeah. Good thingi...but there's one sensory receptor I could do without...
B-pen: Argh. No dice, Crawler...*laughs* No Dice.
Crawler: Well, had to try...
Gummert: *looks over his happy companions, and for a moment, the glow in his monocular eye softens. This is the Sattelite of Java, and he no matter what, he is forever _stuck_ with these morons.*
Gummert: Bluepen...
B-pen: Yeah?
Gummert: Thanks.
B-pen: *shrugs* CowLord sysnthesized the meal...
Gummert: No. I mean thank you. For Creating us in the first place....for making us who we are, and accepting our defects without question....Thank you.
B-pen: *grins* Any time, Gummert, any time.....
(The camera zooms out the window, out into Space, and the rays of sunlight glints off the lens, from the sun of Cygnus Beta, rising over the horizon of the massive blue planet below them....)
.
(Fade to black)
.
END
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, that's it. Sorry it's not up to par, but hey. What can you expect from an improvised, unedited, non-foreplannned, mad-in-one-sitting spiffle.?
I did this last night while I was stuck for the "The Case of the Watermelon Farmer" (don't ask!), I just let my mind wander and I wasn't going to even SAVE the friggin' thing in the first place..........
But since Yamu liked the first Sattelite of Java fic, I thought he might like a snapshot of what's it normally like on the S of J...
And of what constitutes a first draft.
Well, you now got the mediocre fic you've been wanting from me, man. Heh. When it rains,it pours...
.
See you alll again in a couple!
http://bpen.topcities.com/bplogo.gif
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
%theme music>
In the not-too-distant future,
This coming Tuesday, you see
There was this boy named Bluepencil
Not so different from you or me
He worked at FIYAR Institute,
Just another guy in an official green jumpsuit...
He did a great job cleaning up the place....
But his bosses really hated himmm...
So they shot him into _space_!!!!
(The mad, mad Dr. Alchitran peers into a computer printout and laughs maniacally. )
We'll send him sucky fanfics
The worst we can find (yubyub)
He'll have to sit and read them all and we'll monitor his mind (yubyub)
Now keep in mind B-pen can't control
When the fics begin or end (yubyubyubub)
Because he used those special parts
To make his robot friends;
ROBOT ROLL CALL:
CowLord: Master of the Pasture
'Izz it in RTF?!!'
Gummert: Bubblegum dispenser crashed
'Whit...pass the popcorn'
Sparks: Multicultural vacuum cleaner
'Like, kewl, mon.!'
Crawler: Drain plug. No further explantion necessary.
'*lecherous grin*'
If you're wondering how the Bluepencil eats and breathes
And other science facts (yubyub)
Then repeat to yourself
*It's just a RIFF*
You should really just relax.....
for the BOOJUM'S MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 4000!
-----------------------
.
.
.
.
.
You may stop screaming blooody manslaughter now. ..
Really. There is no reason to take up that Turbo Plasma Rifle.
.
Relax. This fic is not a RIFF. It's a perfectly normal, sensible work.
.
Roight.
.
Wanna buy a bridge?
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
It's..........
*The Big Argument That Leads To Nowhere In Particular*
or the......
~~~~~~~ *TBATLTOIP* !!!~~~~~~~~
Compilation 1
.
.
.
.
.
A Sattelite of Java(tm) fic
.
.
.
.
.
Warning: Pure, unrevised First Draft. Blatant rip-offs. Totally senseless and wandering!
------------------------------------------
On Cultures, Existence and the Holy Cheese Sticks:
.
,
(The camera aggressively zooms into the revolving Sattelite of Jave, into a window, and bounces off rather savagely. It spins wildy in space and careens into a passing asteroid.
Static.
.
Ahem.
,
New camera.
The new camera is smarter than its predecessor, and recognized that trying to go through the tellarite windows was futile. It zoomed around the SoJ, broke open a vent, and snuck in. It comes out in a wide, comfortable hall...)
(Bpen comes in.)
Crawler: Hey, look! B-pen wearing a skirt!
Gummert: (turns) Gah!
Sparks: Oh my God, mon!
B-pen: Arrgh! It's not a skirt! It's called a ~hakama~! (spreads feet apart) See it's just very loose pants.
Crawler: Okay, divided skirts, then.
B-pen: Argh...
Gummert: Bluepen...
B-pen: What?
Gummert: Just WHY are you wearing a divided skirt?
B-pen: ~HAKAMA~!
Gummert: Uh...why are you wearing a...hakama? <How the hell do you pronounce "~"?!!>
B-pen: My mind is unfocused. I need to calm my nerves.
Crawler: And cross-dressing calms you down? Kinky.
B-pen: (thwops Crawler over the head with a wooden sword) No, idiot! It's for kendo practice!
Sparks: Hai, kenkaku-mon!
B-pen: Huh? I didn't program you with the Nippongo language, Sparks..how did you....
Sparks: Like, the radio, mon.
B-pen: The TOC? Trans-dimesional Otaku Channel?
Sparks: Ja!
Gummert: Will you two please start speaking in a language we can understand!!
B-pen / Sparks: Jameh. Gummara jehu zamarkath'li ...*grin*
Gummert: ngggh..
B-pen: *laughs* Don't worry. I'll program you to understand Appalica too.
Crawler: Appalica?
B-pen: The Holy Languange of the Appalit people.
Crawler: Eh?
B-pen: Gummert, dig into your database and explain, please.
Gummert: Okay...working...........................................ah!! Hey. Just one entry? Appalica/Appalita - people of Appallit. sysn. Gofer of the Gods.
B-pen: There.
Gummert: Gofer of the Gods? What kind of designation is that??
B-pen: Exactly what it means.
Gummert: Rubbish.
Bpen: *grin* What do you mean...rubbish?
Gummert: Gods don't exist. They're just figments of the imagination.
B-pen: Remind me to take you to Cybertron sometime....but on the point, how can you be sure? After all, what we haven't seen doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
Gummert: There's no proof.
B-pen: There's no dis-proof.
Gummert: Geh. All the facts show that it's not possible for the Gods to exist, for a Higher Supervising Being that creates All Things(tm).
B-pen: All things? You're saying that you'd recognize a God that creates stuff. Just being a Creator makes a God. Ergo..I created you..so does that make me your God?
Gummert: Hell no.
B-pen: But you just said that you recognize a Creator as God.
Gummert: But I said All Things(tm).
B-pen: Right. But still, as your Creator, why am I not worshipped?
Gummert: You get enough of that from CowLord.
B-pen: Precisely!
Gummert: Geh?
B-pen: Just being a Creator doesn't guarantee recognition as a Divinity. However, it's relatively simple, the task of being treated as one.
Gummert: Your point being...
B-pen: The fact that you haven't found God means that God Created All Things with a sense of purpose, and that purpose lies upon our own decisions and destiny.
Gummert: You're muddling the argument, B-pen.
B-pen: No, no..see...Godhood is a realtive concept.
Gummert: Aa...so..
B-pen: So....uh......what started this train of thought anyway?
Sparks: Appalicans, mon.
B-pen: Right. So, Appalicans consider the individuals they serve as Gods. And Appalicans are also considered as Gods by lesser races..and so on and so forth.
Gummert: And that means...who IS God, anyway?
Crawler: Orgasm.
B-pen: What the hell...? Crawler!!
Crawler: Wait..I think I may have to contribute to your stupid arguments with the Gumbo here this time..
B-pen: Talk.
Crawler: Gods are a...manifestation of desire. That's why there are many Gods for different things...like Love, or Creation, or Sex. We want things to make sense..and to make things make sense, we need to forget that all things happen by accident, and hope that there really is a guiding order to all this..
Gummert: *sproing*
B-pen: I didn't know you could be insightful, Crawler.
Crawler: I read it in Penthouse. Issue 12. There was a whole section devoted to the creationism manifesto.
B-pen: *eyebrow twitch* Argh.
Sparks: What's de world coming to.
B-pen: The upshot of progress has disastrous effects on ethical ideas.
Crawler: I detect a phallic reference.....
B-pen: YOU DETECT A PHALLIC REFRENCE IN EVERY GODDAMN THING I SPIT OUT!!
Crawler: Fine. I'll just go over to this corner and read my back issues, then.
Gummert: That's good. Stay there.
B-pen: I'll go try to calm down now.
(Bpen goes into the center of the rom and starts to take combat stances. He swordplays against an imaginary opponent. Soon, his face loses the tenseness, and he relaxes, and his movements become more fluid and precise.)
Crawler: Eh?
Sparks: Like, good stroke, mon.
Crawler: What's the point to all this dancing around? Where's the fancy sword slashes?
Gummert: You have been watching Highlander too much. Real swordsmanship isn't about speed or who get to decapitate whos head off first.
Crawler: Then what?
Sparks: Becomwng One with de universe, mon.
Crawler: Then crawl into a 747's Jet turbines. I guarantee that you'll be One with de Universe.....
Gummert: Geh? Look, this is beyond your capacity to understand.
Crawler: Try me.
Gummert: It's about achieving the state of perfection, a state in which all other things don't matter, where all things are focused. and all things are natural and perfect in their motion.
Crawler: Orgasm.
Sparks: (thwops Crawler over the head with his handy fhuge mallet.) Not dat thread again. mon.
Crawler: Nurrgh................look, it really isn't as pervrted as you might think.
Gummert: Hm....he may be right, you know....
Spakrks: Like, how?
Gummert: Acessing database............state of Nirvana. A state of pure joy, of pure delight, of pure wonder in living, of intense pleasure. Sound familiar?
Sparks: Oh, right, mon.
Crawler: So..you think the Bluepencil's achieved...Nirvana yet?
Gummert: The word is...Zen. Ah. Right. Zen. Wa. The word for it is Zen.
Sparks: Only one way to find out, mon.
(Sparks shoots a paint granade out to B-pen's head. As usual, his aim is precise and flawless. But at the last second, B-pen turns his head, his eyes still closed, and swats the granade back with the pommel of his blade.
The paint grenade arcs back to Sparks and explodes, covering the multicultural vacuum cleaner into a splortchy shade of pink.
B-pen continues his flow, unaware of what he's done.)
Crawler: Cool!
Gummert: Yeheap.
Sparks: Like, damn.
(B-pen steps up rapidly and makes a big downward swoop with the blade. He snaps forward, and they saw that the manouver could easily slice a man in half.
B-pen relaxes and sheaths the bokken away. He opens his eyes and a wide grin forms on his face.)
B-pen: Woohoo!!
Crawler: Eh?
Gummert: So..had a rush?
B-pen: Ah, I forgot how utterly mind-refeshing a good ~kata~ is. Being in the Sattelite of Java kind of made me too set against any forms of exercise.
Crawler: I'll say. *pokes B-pen's belly.*
B-pen: Hey! You saying I'm being fat?
Crawler: If you were a girl, there would be no correct answer to that question. However, since you are a guy, and I like to insult you...yes, you ARE fat.
B-pen: Thank God!
Crawler: Hah?
B-pen: Gummert, describe me, please.
Gummert: Weird. Insane. Caffeine-overdosed. Probably possesed by evil spirits, too.
B-pen: Argh.
Crawler: Okay..tall, thin, lanky. Losing hair...has a lisp, tendency to ma-
B-pen: That's enough datum.
Gummert: B-pen _WANTS_ to gain weight.
B-pen: Right.
Sparks: I don' understand it, mon.
B-pen: What the hell happened to yo.... what don't you understand?
Sparks: Why you're so concerned about lookin' good, mon. After all, there ain't no chicks out here to make you dig.
Crawler: A VERY WOEFUL FACT!!
B-pen: Go back to your stack of Playboys.
Crawler: Yes. Ahh...come to me, my pretties...
B-pen: *sighs* I wonder sometimes.....what demon prodded me to make that 'bot.
Crawler: I have sensed another pha-
B-pen: Crawler!
Crawler: *grins lecherously and turns back to his reading*
B-pen: *groans*
Gummert: Perhaps it was a moment of temporary insanity.
B-pen: Gummert, I _KNOW_ it was a moment of insanity, but .... what caused it?
Gummert: The sun in your eye?
B-pen: Nah.
Gummert: Alien subterfuge?
B-pen: C'mon....
Sparks: Like, something you ate, maybe?
B-pen: Hmm...*poses* You're nothing but a work of my imagination! An undigested slab of cheese in my tummy! *stops posing* Heh.
Gummert: You're as bad an Impressionist as you are at Singing.
B-pen: Hey..I'm not that bad..
Sparks: Yes, you are, mon.
B-pen: Okay, okay...I see no need to argue this. With practice, I'll......
Gummert: NO!!!
B-pen: Hehe.
Gummert: *moves closer and whispers into his ear* What I'd like you is to dismantle Crawler.
B-pen: What? No way!
Gummert: Why not?
B-pen: It's tantamount to murder.
Gummert: He's just a 'bot. Just until he 'gets fixed'.
B-pen: So are you. Would you like me to break you open and meddle with what makes you who you are? The CI chip, coupled with the Free Will(tm) processor that you 'bots have..it's what sets you all apart from each other. It's your essence, your soul. And you want me to tamper with that in him?!
Gummert: ......
(CowLord comes in.)
CowLord: It eez Dinner time!
Crawler: Cool!
Sparks: Like, bring it on, mon!
CowLord: Your daily dose of cholesterol, Mazter B-pen...*bovine grin*
B-pen: Thanks, Cowlord.
Crawler: Burgers? Cheese sticks?
CowLord: And az for you all...*sets down a plate filled with lugnuts and tins of premium motor oil. *
(Crawler begins guzzling oil, while Sparks vacuums up the lugnuts to be digested in his internal nanofactory.)
Sparks: Like, yum. It makes my taste receptors sizzle, mon. Good cooking, CowLord.
Crawler: Yeah. Good thingi...but there's one sensory receptor I could do without...
B-pen: Argh. No dice, Crawler...*laughs* No Dice.
Crawler: Well, had to try...
Gummert: *looks over his happy companions, and for a moment, the glow in his monocular eye softens. This is the Sattelite of Java, and he no matter what, he is forever _stuck_ with these morons.*
Gummert: Bluepen...
B-pen: Yeah?
Gummert: Thanks.
B-pen: *shrugs* CowLord sysnthesized the meal...
Gummert: No. I mean thank you. For Creating us in the first place....for making us who we are, and accepting our defects without question....Thank you.
B-pen: *grins* Any time, Gummert, any time.....
(The camera zooms out the window, out into Space, and the rays of sunlight glints off the lens, from the sun of Cygnus Beta, rising over the horizon of the massive blue planet below them....)
.
(Fade to black)
.
END
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Well, that's it. Sorry it's not up to par, but hey. What can you expect from an improvised, unedited, non-foreplannned, mad-in-one-sitting spiffle.?
I did this last night while I was stuck for the "The Case of the Watermelon Farmer" (don't ask!), I just let my mind wander and I wasn't going to even SAVE the friggin' thing in the first place..........
But since Yamu liked the first Sattelite of Java fic, I thought he might like a snapshot of what's it normally like on the S of J...
And of what constitutes a first draft.
Well, you now got the mediocre fic you've been wanting from me, man. Heh. When it rains,it pours...
.
See you alll again in a couple!
http://bpen.topcities.com/bplogo.gif
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
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