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SOL Post 41 11/25/99
SOL Post 40 11/15/99
SOL Post 39 10/15/99


Volume 40 www.msties.com November 1999
Formerly The MSTies Anonymous Newsletter: News for the Obscure Convergence


In This Issue

From the Poobah
"MSTable Movies" by RMichel424@aol.com
"Jenny For Your Thoughts" by s364128@pop.urgrgcc.edu
"Disco/Convention 2000" by D.Billany@Loc-dog.demon.co.uk
"Better 'Bots and Satellites" by bgibron@yahoo.com
November MSTie of the Month: s364128@pop.urgrgcc.edu
MST3K Trivia Winners
December MST3K Schedule on SFC
Classifieds 3000

From the Poobah

Believe it or not, it's been a big month. Yours truly has found a side gig on a little fansite called Nintendojo. Maybe you've heard of it. So for those of you game addicts out there, you can now check out my writings on Nintendo 64 and the video game industry in general there. But back at our homepage, yet another game of Jeopardy!-esque MST3K Trivia has reached completion with another lucky winner receiving a free Rhino tape of their choice. I'm also considering shaking the Trivia section up... See below for more. And finally, there's little more than a week until Turkey Day '99. As always, there will be a special edition of the SOL Post on that day, so be sure to send in your Turkey Day-related writings and ramblings to help us celebrate. If anything, please send in your personal MST3K marathon plan so as to proclaim to the world your annual ritual and assist your fellow MSTies Anonymous members in tape selection since SFC will not be airing our show at all on Turkey Day. Whatever you think about Turkey Day, we'll gobble it up... Have everything to me by Wednesday, November 24th for publication. But in the meantime, enjoy SOL Post 40!

"MSTable Movies" by RMichel424@aol.com

Blue Monkey (1986)
First of all this film is by far one of the most MSTable films I have reviewed yet! The movie has nothing to do with a 'blue monkey' and was originally title "Green Monkey". This is full of great laughable characters and one worst looking monsters I have ever seen. The story itself is okay, but it is not acted very well and I found myself laughing at how lame the monster looked. Even Maltin gives it a BOMB! For once I agree with him. This is the story...
We first see an elderly gentleman, Fred, help an elderly lady, Alice, fix part of her greenhouse. He sticks himself on a plant and tells her there is nothing to worry about. He collapses outside and is rushed to the hospital, which is a former mental institution and is very old and run down. He dies while in the ER and a giant worm like creature squirms its way out of his mouth. The staff captures the creature in a pan and places it under a big glass cover till they can have it examined. As Fred is being worked on a cop, Detective Bishop, brings in his partner who has been shot. Soon one of the paramedics that brought Fred in comes down with the same symptoms and there is a quarantine placed on the Alice. She is placed in quarantine room and soon is joined by her blind lady friend. As the cop waits for word on his partner, we see the female lead, Dr. Judith Glass, yells at some misfit kids to get back to their rooms. Apparently this hospital has a laser research section complete with multi-million dollar laser unit that looks like the freeze weapon from Batman and Robin. Alice's blind friend Dee Dee shows up and when no one is around the start to get drunk. A man brings in his wife because he has worked out the exact time that the baby will be born. This guy is very funny, unintentionally, though. Bishop and Judith go to pick up a bug expert and have a nurse watch the bug. She soon leaves with her boyfriend and leaves it unattended. While she's gone the kids spill a bunch growth hormone in the glass and run off so they don't get in trouble. The bug expert is a real geek and goes with them to the hospital. Meanwhile, the nurse and her boyfriend are killed when they return and begin to make out. The bug knocks out most of the electricity causing the building's lights to flicker on and off. A repairman, who looks like dwarf, goes to investigate and is killed by the now giant bug. The hospital is put under quarantine so there isn't an epidemic. No one gets in, no one gets out. We find out that the booze has cured Alice of her disease, which proves booze cures! The bug guy, Judith and Bishop go to the basement to find the bug and watch it give birth to a female. Now they must kill the female before it can reproduce. They enlist the help of the leader of the kids' little gang because he knows his way around down there. They blow up the female which tick off the male and it follows them up into the hospital and eventually lead it to the laser room and use the laser to kill it. Thus this film proves to be perfect MST fodder!!!
Stinger: The little tykes running down the hall after being told to return to their rooms.

"Jenny For Your Thoughts" by s364128@pop.urgrgcc.edu

Okay people, let's face facts: there is a very small chance that MST3K is going be put back on TV with new episodes. We've had movies and books, so where does MST3K go now? The answer is simple: Broadway. Yes, "MST3K: The Musical"! Heck, "Saturday Night Fever" did it, so why can't we? Here are some reasons why Broadway is the answer.

  1. You can get anything produced in off-Broadway show. All you need is a script and money. (Trust me, my theater professor did it and he saw some really wild plays there.)
  2. Mike and Kevin both have such lovely voices and theater experience.
  3. Plays last as long as people will go to see them. There are no ratings, no sponsors, or stupid executives. Sure, you might get a stupid theater manger. But if it's a show people are willing to come see, they'll let you do it.
  4. You could have this show travel across the country, which be much more cooler that doing "Sound of Music" coast-to-coast.
We could do a Broadway play with just a movie, one with all MST3K music, or an original one that I made up. (Sorry that this is not perfect. This is the condensed version so I'm just giving you couple songs and the basic plot.) But here it is. "MST3K: The Musical".

(The curtains open after "The Love Theme Overture". The house is packed. Music starts. In Deep 13, Dr. F wakes to another evil day.)

"Time For Another Bad Movie"

Dr. F: Oh Joy, oh joy!
Time to play with my toy
My man in space
I must waste
For it's time for another bad movie.

(TV's Frank gets up.)

Dr. F: I'm mad scientist and do things are mean.
Frank: Thought he thinks Barney is keen.
Dr. F: Frank!
I have man trapped in space.

Frank: Does this have funny tastes?
Dr. F: I make him watch awful films
Or else I'll kill him
To take over world
And make mom proud, who is Pearl.

Frank: She's one hot girl!

Dr. F: Frank, go get today's movie. Wake the subject. We have tons of evil things to do today. We must break new ground in Mad Scientology.
Frank: Duh... Okay!
Dr. F: It's time for another bad movie.

(Up on the SOL, Mike wakes up.)

Mike: Man I wish I were dead.
I got boss who is crazy in the head.
No sick day, no vacation or pay
I have to do this day after day.
I rather be office filling
But got keep smiling
I have keep hope
Where my soap on a rope?

(Mike gets dressed and goes to the bridge. Everyone is having breakfast.)

Mike: These movies do suck
We don't get paid any bucks
But Dr. F won't crush my soul.
Hand off that cream roll.
I just can't believe it's time for another.

Servo: It's time for another.
Gypsy: It's time for another.
Crow: Is it time for another?
Mike, Crow, Servo and Gypsy: Yes. Time for another bad movie!

(End song. Following a standing ovation, everyone finishes their breakfast and remain talking. The 'Bots think that Joel will one day come back and save them, but are interrupted by Movie Sign. The next scene is with Joel in the Outback. The light from Gypsy leads around to the side stage where Joel stands. He is looking up at night sky and sighs. Begin music.)

"Star Light, Star Bright"

Joel: Star light, Star bright.
Are you my satellite?
That I knew so long ago
Please tell me so.
Oh how I miss those 'Bots I made
How they used make fun of the ice capades
I have tried
To bring down from the sky
I remember the day
That I went away
The choice was not mine
I swear you I will find
Star light, Star bright.
Are you my satellite?
That I knew so long ago
Please tell me so.

(In the next scene, Mike and the 'Bots try to escape and fail.)


Mike, Crow and Servo: We got to keep hope
It keeps our spirits afloat.
Yes we may cry
But bad situations will never cause us to die.
Though time may cause pain
We can be happy because they won't stay
My father once got fast boat
Because he got picture of the mayor and a goat
Oh yes we got keep hope.

(On to next scene in which Dr. F reveals that he has acquired the book where Mike has gotten all his escape plans and song called "I'm Evil" which ends with firework and chorus line of dancing Mole People. The next act is with Brain Guy, Bobo, and Pearl. Mike sings a song tell what has happen. Shift back to Joel at Hot fish stand with song call "Hot Fish"!)

Joel: Hot fish! We sell hot fish
Any type that you wish
Bass, sunnies or trout
That's what we are about.
Hot Fish!

(Joel gets the idea to send Pearl a joystick after seeing an employee break one, resulting in the song "To Earth". Then it's final song "No More Bad Movies".)

Mike: He did not break my will
I was not to be killed.
I get to see my family
Even big Aunt Annie.

Mike, Crow, Servo and Gypsy: Oh, no more bad movies!

The End.

"Disco/Convention 2000" by D.Billany@Loc-dog.demon.co.uk

Oh, we were born within 10 years of each other.
I never knew at all that I would discover.
Your names a mystery (mystery).
Just like it used to be.
But I saw that when you grew up,
You made my eyes glint just like a pup,
I didn't understand it.
But then, they canned it.

Oh, Forrester, do you recall...
Your cave was rather small...
With tubes hanging off the wall...
When Frank came round to call...
You didn't care for him at all...

And I said:

Let's all meet up in the year 2000,
Won't it be strange to see some of the Brains?
Be there 10 o'clock,
It don't matter if it rains.
Some never knew that Mike was married,
They'll be surprised when and if he says,
On that damp yet homely
Day not far away.

You were the last show of the best.
I barely noticed all of the rest.
Oh, the MSTies love you, but I am a mess.
I have to go and change my home address.
I'm a Brit, I have to face the facts.
I always watch at home, at times, but it lacks...
Oh it lacks nothing to ya.
It should be more... popular.

But, Forrester, do you recall...
Your cave was rather small...
With tubes hanging off the wall...
When Frank came round to call...
You didn't care for him at all...

And I said:

Let's all meet up in the year 2000,
Won't it be strange to see some of the Brains?
Be there 10 o'clock,
It don't matter if it rains.
Some never knew that Mike was married,
They'll be surprised when and if he says,
On that damp yet homely
Day not far away.

"Better 'Bots and Satellites" by bgibron@yahoo.com

Vol. 2, Issue 4
The Wrongs Remain as Lame: Stupid is as Evil Does

When humans contemplate the great questions of metaphysical reality, when they open their usually closed and narrow minds to the ethereal throb of the universal pulse, or even when they tune into the great cosmic radio station and sit back to jive, it seems like the same old quandaries, Excedrin headache #666 and an entire catalog of singles by The Sweet are all that is playing. It's no real surprise that a decade as sullen and medieval as the 1990's would choose to while away its last hours, not like a big time Texas gambler throwing loose "earl" money across the baccarat table like so much steer manure, but more like a cloddish and trailer parked slot jockey named Eulla Belle with too many diabetic rolls in her butter filled bottom and repetitive stress disorder from the constant motion of coin to slot to one arm to ass to oversized coin cup.
Like an overly cute and hyper-addictive Japanese anime series featuring doe eyed asexual pod children teaching their equally indecipherable cavity critters how to battle to the death, this final decade will be known more for its high school shootings, tabloid mentality and Bill Gates' imitation of Uncle Moneybags than it will be for peace, love or understanding. After thousands of years of wandering the barren landscape of the human soul, in the 90's, evil finally found a mess to bless, a final place to rest its barking hell hounds. And it needed the respite after decades of being chased by priests, pagans and aging supermodels. In the good old days, evil spent the majority of its time shacked up with its corrupt cousin, intolerance, not airing twice nightly on the WB. Back when the line between righteousness and corruption wasn't as blurry as the camera work in "The Blair Witch Project", folks could pretty much figure out who was the bad guy and who got the plump and corseted starlet.
Malfeasance rode in on a dark horse, wore more black than could be found on a disaffected Bauhaus fan's cold cream jar and did really nasty things like smoke, drink, curse and evict. Moustaches were as twisted as the minds that twirled them, and a nefarious cackle resonated off of pristine pearly whites. After all, would any righteous person be caught in the grip of the most heinous of all of Satan's minions, the dentist? No sir, the hero was all square jaws and shoulders. He shed blood almost as often as he fell for the blatant chest thrusted advances of the local female saloon keep, wearing her intentions, and little else except her shame, on her incredibly short sleeves. His heart was pure, and his soul (and his manhood) was saved. So what if he slaughtered every redskin within 100 miles of the Pecos, stealing their land, their culture and their pemmican recipes. He stood for everything that was right, that was America that was legislated out of existence around 1964.
So where did it all go wrong, you may ask, when did one man's murder become another's meat? (Or is that visa versa? or either? Huh?) Well, "Better 'Bots and Satellites" has done its usual bang up and overlong bit of research into the area and has isolated the obfuscation of right and wrong into its 3 major stages. Through a painstaking review of the episodes of MST3K, the answer is really quite simple. When evil became lame, it became lamentable, then laughable.

Stage One - Modus Oper-randy!: Stop Using Sex as Weapon.
It seemed that, for a while, in the 50's and 60's the best way to show evil was to attach it to something that was even more wicked, sinful and unbelievably damaging, i.e. sex. Making the villain a hyper-intercoursed love machine looking for ardor in all the wrong orifices made perfect sense in a time of Howdy Dowdy, Polly Bergen and Joe McCarthy. The fact that it oozed over into the free and sleazy '60's meant that, while the coital revolution was fighting on, not everyone agreed with its erotic body politic. The Ike ideal of lustful lechery is embodied (and emboddiced) in the form, figure and fatigue of Gloria, the porno queen of 613 Sinister Urge. Here is a woman for whom no bra is too big, no foundation too form-fitting and no booze too refreshing. In-between battles with the bottle and the bed sheets, she has time to cast and script, screen and critique her little celluloid copulations, all the time while lounging in any number of outrageous and revealing satin and velvet pantsuits and tending to her war wounds. So what if her movies drive one young man to rape and murder? It shows a real grasp of storytelling and careful sub-plotting on Gloria's part. After all, like the old saying goes, it takes a lecher to know one. And she really knows her audience. In the biblical sense.
Or take Su-Muru from 018 Million Eyes of Su-Muru. Here is a bodacious babe whose got one delicious plan for world domination. Infiltrate the white male dominated world of high finance and politics with swinging gals and groovy chicks. If any square wants to get in the way, man, she will blast them with her Medusa ray and make them hard as a rock. You get it. Stiff as stone. Nudge-nudge wink-wink. Thick as a brick (no wait, that's Jethro Tull; nothing sexy about that). Only one problem: all these firm and rigid men, and not one straight gal around to enjoy it. Seems that Su-Muru has visited the Island of Lesbos one too many times, and has populated herself and her dominion with like-minded sisters of the rainbow. Typical 60's villainy. Create a sexual psychedelic freak out happening with plenty of willing men and hordes of hot broads, then turn it all around and blow it. Blow it... get it? Never mind.
Still, not all 60's villains used Midol and a Rob Roy to modulate a raging case of nymphomania. Some were just plain deviants who wanted nothing more than a little lassie they could molest and scar for life. Then they would head out with the gang for some really hot kicks. Such is the case with JC, the hacksider from that cinematic squat 202 Sidehackers. Sure, he is a free spirit, a man who lives by his own set of rules, just like his hair and clothing style do. Little did anyone know that he was cribbing from the Necronomicon. For you see, JC can't leave well, and women, enough alone. His passion and itch know no bounds. That explains the motley crew of hangers on and the giant size tube of Desenex. After losing to some fellow hackey-sackers in a snack packer's race, JC determines that the best revenge is a ravishing one. So he follows the backpackers to the Green Bay Packers (WOO!!!) hideout where he does unclean things to one of the snicker snacker's chicks. In the end, there is a big confrontation between JC and the wacky packages with the back spasms winning. And it was not beauty that killed the beast. It was bestiality.

Stage 2 - Dead Heads: 2 Sandwiches Short of a Picnic.
While the questionable motivation of sex and sexual gratification was damaging the image of evil with its own brand of scratch and sniff, another entire genre reared its ugly rear and continued the downward spindle. The days of the arch villain crime lord boss moss were waning. In its place came a whole new crop of masterminds, a thick patch of stinkweed known as the fuzzy fiend, the hazy honcho the underachieving überlord. Their master plan? Nothing specific. Their means of achieving it? Not known at this time. The chip on their slim and shapeless shoulders that turned them to the ways of crime? To be determined at a later date.
A good example of this ambiguous antagonist is Dr. Kobras, from 903 Pumaman. As impersonated by the bland and bald Donald Pleasance, Dr. K has some sort of idea about doing something to the world, in general. It kind of, sort of involves using his ill-defined powers of whatnot to convince some guys to give him something vague and non-distinct. All the while he is avoiding the debatable motives and equally obscure skills of the Pumaman, a rather under- whelming nothing of a hero coached by a weird looking guy who may or may not be human and or an Aztec. In the end, he is done in by wax heads, or wax lips or Max Headroom and he dies as poorly outlined and confusing as his pseudo-plot.
Or how about Krankor from 816 Prince of Space? The Japanese can be credited for many things; the Walkman, the remote control toilet with built in heater and deodorizer and the unbearable lightness of being. But Krankor has about as much of a clue as to what is going on as he does Romanesque features and his Uncle Joe with a piece of frog sushi caught in his throat voice has charms to sooth only the savage, Ben or Fred. Sure, he wants to take over the world, but he picks a post-world war and pre-Sony Japan as his target de jour. And then he ends up having to battle a Tommy Tunesque leotarded retard named the Prince of Space, who thwarts him at every misstep with several energy blasts and a series of pirouettes. Hey Krankor, Pinocchio called. No, he doesn't want his nose back. He wants to loan you some dowels to use as a backbone.
Yet in the pantheon of do-nothing ne'er-do-wellers, no one can hold a soggy wet nap to Valmont in 1013 Diabolik. Here is a man who uses the phrase, "Pass the buck," as many times as he says, "Pass the gravy," and, "Please pass the ointment." When faced with the rather daunting task of destroying the rather ostentatious and obvious master thief Diabolik, this lackluster blob boss relies on henchmen, goons, thugs, lawyers, guns and money, yet still can't manage to right himself in his chair or seem conscious when faced with the object of his witlessness. The police are even helpless in pointing this lard lad in the direction of anything other than his own linty navel. By the end, when the vapid V literally stumbles into capturing the dastardly Diabolik, he looks less like a victor and more like a victim what with his over-tight Italian suits and ponderous, pendulous jowls.

Stage 3 - Simpletons on the Side: The Right Hand Never Knows What the Left is Doing.
It's not always the leaders fault. Just ask Hitler. Or the Reverend Sun Yung Moon. Or Billy Corgan. Sometimes, when you least expect it, someone somewhere comes up to you and says "smile, you're a vapid sidekick." Where would our out-of-touch chieftains be without an equally dim set of henchmen, whether they exist for purposes of exploitation, experimentation or emulation? No half-baked plan to conquer the world and all its indigenous life forms would be complete without the illiterate input of lame-ass lackeys, funked-up flunkies and psychotic sycophants. Be they crippled or handicapped, amoral or immoral, ambidextrous or polydactil, a colorless corrupt companion in feloniousness is as important as a vague motive for global domination and a really foggy sense of self.
And your average toady doesn't even have to be human. Not if you are the Great Vorelli and you have chosen Hugo, the barely animate or articulate ventriloquist dummy/moppet/Muppet/munchkin from 818 Devil Doll. Deep in the mind of the grating Vorelli is a seething caldron of blackness. He devises an overcomplicated plot to defeat the forces of good and to vanquish all who made fun of is obvious post pubescent crater face. Would there be any other valid rational for him growing that hideous meager man fur on his joyless mug? And he plans on doing this by means of Vaudeville. He travels to Germany, finds some last remaining members of the disenfranchised population to exploit and buys several of Richard Simmons Special Edition Collector Troll Dolls from QVC. Before you can say, "I'm so sleepy I can barely keep my eyes open," he has created Hugo, who is soon on the prowl, throwing splinters and suffering from dry rot.
Hugo, like most apple polishers is willing to do anything for his master, from kill and maim to that really annoying talking while drinking water bit. So what if he is about 2' 3", weighs approximately 1/8th of everyone he attacks and can barely walk and lip-synch to the dialogue track at the same time. He still manages to summon up all the vim and vigor of Raggedy Andy as he asphyxiates his victims with rotting pine scent and stabs them to Piccadilly Circus and back with his Supercar Brand Pocket Knife. In the end, like a flatterer's Freudian fever dream, the bootlick becomes the boot and all is right with the world. That is, if you consider a man who looks like Alfred E Newman and Ross Perot's crack baby and a mannequin spouting his Vorelliness as being somehow 'right'.
At least Hugo had some menace factor, similar to clowns, Shriners and Jack Cassidy. All Valeria from 110 Robot Holocaust has going for her are an inarticulate way with the English language and two huge boobs. Now, outsized and outlandish bodily features are a staple of the wicked and baneful around the universe (see above and below) but no one takes it to the extreme of our gal Val. Parading around in a serious of more and more outrageous costumes that would make even Russ Meyer blush, she is less Kitten Natividad and more Cat Ballou, thrusting her chest outward and upward upon every mangled line reading. What is her job, actually? Something about keeping the robots on the holocaustic path? Twisting knobs and verbs with equal aplomb? Enslaving the remaining human population for the useless purpose of building her a more elaborate and provocative set of undergarments?
That's right, she is working for and with the robot leaders. More howl than HAL, these humdrum automatons have determined that the human race is worthless, and only super duper smart machines should control the fate of the planet. No skit skerlock. If the human race were worth saving, they would never allow something like Little Beef Smokies to exist. Of course, our voltage-reliant vanguard can't quite do it without the rather buxom and bucolic Valeria. Seems she is the Polygrip that holds the whole planet indenture strategy together. Must be all the silicon she carries in her valley. When she falls victim to the human rebellion, there is nothing left to do but abandon those leaky torso tanks and make a beeline to Dr. Saul Calabro.
But no nefarious no-goodnik can compare to the champion of all chumps, the head of all hangers-on, the Yentl of all yes men. As large of thigh as he is small of brain, as inarticulate in communication as he is skilled in ogling. Able to creep out small children with a single leer, Torgo from 424 Manos: the Hands of Fate has mastered all the skills necessary to be the perfect toppling truckler. Standing guard over a paltry B&B near the Alkali Salt Flats somewhere in the lost illusion of the America southwest, his Torginess knows the value of a first impression when it comes to making your captives feel right at home. Inappropriately stained clothes, a hat removed from a diseased Buddy Ebsen impersonator and a shillelagh from a leprous leprechaun and it's a holiday in Cambodia all over again.
And the might Tor goes the extra mile to make sure everyone knows who exactly browns his nose. It's always 'the Master' this and 'the Master' that, so much so in fact that you sometimes wonder where the Master ends and Torgie begins. Then again, maybe you don't. The connotation is revolting. But it also gives us insight into the rationale behind Mr. T's unswerving devotion to the man in red manos. You see, the Master has determined that, since he will never naturally know the touch of a woman, he'll create a harem full of willing helots to do his unholy bidding. With Torgamatta at his side, all he has to do is deceive them, dope them up real good, and make them fight with each other for his love. Kind of like Jean Claude Van Damme. And what does ThunderTorgs Are Go want in return for his devotion and toil. Sloppy seconds.
Still, all does not end well for the Immoral Mr. Thighs. Just like every love and/or sexual affair based on violence and chicanery. The best laid plans of Torgo and the Man to get laid oft go astray. Except it is only Torgo that finds himself on the short end of the demon stick. Missing a hand and bleeding to death, knees and thighs akimbo, our freakish fawner watches as his chances of scoring dissolve in layer upon layer of upper leg cellulite. As he passes from this world into the next, we can only imagine what the spawn of Torgo would look like. Envision Charles Manson with the pronunciation of Foster Brooks, the facial hair of a 13-year-old Hispanic male and the thighs of Eric Hyden, and the mind begins to reel. And what of the Master? In his case, the story ends up just like every other abusive relationship you've heard about. The women all hang around, eating Cheetos and tweezing their "troubled spots," waiting for the isolated incident when Mr. Manos will favor them with another round of full contact assault and battery.
It's not too difficult to envision how a naive and fragile world, one bathed in the light of piety and clear in its vision of the underworld was dazed and confused by what it was seeing. Large noses, breasts and thighs are equated with treachery? An unhealthy knowledge of carnality leads to a life of sin and non-sexual domination? Lax shapeless men with even more malformed plans for kingdom conquering are to be feared and submitted to, even in their odiousness? Before long, with the constant goose step of Torgo's vocabulary stutters, the pelican-esque cackle of Krankor and beef dripping belches of Valmont ringing in their collective ears, society had no choice but to cast aside any clear perception of hideousness and concoct a whole new notion of abomination.
So the next time you see a highly side burned sociopath feeling up an unwilling debutante in some oily back room vinyl booth at Denny's, and she seems to be enjoying it, chalk it up to the lessons learned at the hands, breasts, thighs, eyes, ears, nose and throat of the new malignancy, the avant- garde of amorality. Su-Muru with her same sex tendencies, Gloria with her all sex leanings and Hugo with his all wood and nowhere to go cravings and you can see why they are passing out condoms in elementary school. Or look to the hemorrhoidal triumvirate of Krankor, Kobras and Valmont, who make up for a nonexistent sense of plan and plot with an almost indecipherable lack of external hygiene. Beginning to understand the continued careers of Russ Limbaugh, Kevin Costner and F. Murray Abraham? But whatever you do, do not partake of mass quantities of Torgo, for in his disfigured gait and tortured speech pattern we see a definitively Shagg-less philosophy of the world, a new pallor generation raised on Taco Bell, R. L. Stine and latchkeys. In his devotion to a heartless and overpowering bullyboy, the entire WCW/WWFing of the citizenry can be traced. Our destiny is fixed and frigged. Our fate is vacuum-sealed for dreckness. Evil has shown its true face and it's not a pretty sight. Get while the getting is good. To paraphrase Timbuk 3, the futures so lame, forget the shades. I gotta haul ass.

November MSTie of the Month: s364128@pop.urgrgcc.edu

Name: I'm known by several. My name is Jennifer Erdahl but like being called Jenny. Also on BBoard I'm know as Kismet1.

Other Science Facts: I'm 21 year-old female who is addicted to MST3K. I've been a fan since 1994. I'm a junior at Rio Grande College in Ohio (not Texas, and don't worry if you’ve never heard of it). I always write a column for MSTies Anonymous called "Jenny For Your Thoughts." But it's thanks to the MSTies Anonymous Poobah that my columns have correct spelling and grammar (I'm very bad with them).

Where I Live: I live in Cincinnati, Ohio... Near Hamilton county if anyone lives in Cincinnati.

My MST3K Experience: Well, it all started when I saw the show on TV. The image had lots of static and I was only one who could see it. But I had no clue what was. Later I found out the episode I first watched was 316 Gamera vs. Zigra. Then one day it was gone. Some time later I was babysitting some kids who had cable. I turn on TV and there was that show that I could only see. I found out it was called Mystery Science Theater 3000. I beg my mom for the Comedy Central and she said it take while. In mean time I would baby-sit those kids, no matter what, just to see if I could watch more of Mst3k. I ask someone on net for episode or two and got it. On tape I saw 423 Bride of Monster, 508 Operation Double 007 and 519 Outlaw. On the Net, I found out that Joel left show and there was a new guy on the show. Finally I got cable, so I was happy. I watched and traded tapes. I cried my eyes out when it got canceled from Comedy Central. I made my dad watch 706 Laserblast with me so I wouldn't have to see it alone. I went see MST3K: The Movie when first came to Cincinnati. I went to the ’96 MST3K ConventioCon; it was on my best times of my life. Some highlights included getting a kiss from Mike Nelson, getting my picture in paper at Con, seeing the writing room, staying up late to see 108 Slime People, and going to the Costume Ball as Mr. B Natural. Some people may remember me; I was one with (I think) the best Mr. B costume and a flute. After the Con, I cheered up when I found out that the Sci-Fi Channel was picking it up. I remember seeing if we had Sci-Fi and we did. I raced home so see the 801 Revenge of the Creature. I then went to college and was scared that I might not get Sci-Fi. But I was happy see that I did. I showed my friends MST3K: The Movie. In ‘97 or ‘98 my sister was going to prom and my mom had to help out with the after-prom party. One of the things they had was an MST3K movie room where kids could watch movies. I was so thrilled (mainly because my sister hated MST3K). I came home to see the setup for after-prom. My friend and I went into rooms. My mom did the famous theater, too.

Interesting Info: I wrote an MST3K crossover fan fiction story called "Shock Theater 3000". I write an interesting thing on BBoard once a week called "Unknown Facts". I’m also a fan of "Rocky Horror Picture Show", The X-Files, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm a Christian, but a nice one, not one those Bible-thumping ones. I love writing or e-mailing MST3K pen pals. I like all types music except country, gangster rap and Jimmy Buffet.

Hobbies: Reading, writing, watching TV, listing to music, and sleeping. I like hanging with my friend and dancing either at parties, or in my room. That’s all I have time for.

MST3K Trivia Winners

Well, wouldn't you know it. A Brit won Jeopardy!-esque MST3K Trivia. Three months of competition resulted in a stumper of a final round in which no player knew the solution. So it was by a mere margin of 3000 points that Locdog07 takes home a copy of 619 Red Zone Cuba. Here's he had to say...

"I won?!? What happened? Where did I go wrong? What am I doing here, writing an acceptance speech for an award I thought I'd never get? I was hoping not to have to write this speech... I'm not good at it! Geez... oh, um, the speech? I thought I had it here with my in my pocket... hmm... let's see... nope, a magic ring, but no speech... I guess I'll just have to improvise! Hello. I'm Locdog07. You may remember me from such competitions as "Name That Odour!", "Who's Pulling My Pumper?", and "It's a Living".

"People who get my thanks: Pretty much all of ya! All the people in MSTies Anonymous, except MSTAnon himself who puts us through the torture that is Jeopardy!-esque MST3K Trivia. All of you get my thanks, and I'm really quite sure you guys'll win next time... At least that's what they all told me when I lost, and check it out, I won. So it proves that just anyone can do anything they put their minds to. If a British kid like me can win this trivia contest, who knows what some of you Americans out there can do? I really hope this hasn't been a bad speech... Was it good for you? I hate writing speeches... I abhor standing up in front of everyone after having done well in anything. Simply standing here is as near to boasting as you can get, I should be shot where I stand for this! Um... put the gun down, MSTManos. I was speaking metaphorically... or is it hypothetically? Or is it time for me to stand down before the angry mob comes and takes me away? Uh... (Runs.)

"The End. Or is it?"

Well, it's been another fun game of Jeopardy!-esque MST3K Trivia. In the future, I may add an additional trivia game based upon a popular TV game show, or replace the current one altogether. What do you MSTies out there in trivia land think? Should I keep Jeopardy!-esque MST3K Trivia just the way it is, add a new game, or replace the current game with a new one? Please reply and let me know. Thanks!

December MST3K Schedule on SFC

North America
{All times are Eastern and tentative}
12/04/99 - 09:00 am - [1002] Girl in Gold Boots
12/11/99 - 09:00 am - [1004] Future War
12/18/99 - 09:00 am - [0820] Space Mutiny
12/27/99 - 09:00 am - MST3K Chain Reaction
12/27/99 - 11:00 am - MST3K Chain Reaction
12/27/99 - 01:00 pm - MST3K Chain Reaction
12/27/99 - 03:00 pm - MST3K Chain Reaction
12/27/99 - 05:00 pm - MST3K Chain Reaction

Classifieds 3000

bgibron@yahoo.com writes: "When it comes to voting for the Sci-Fi Chain Reaction of MST3K, please vote numerous times for 815 AGENT FOR HARM!!! I need that episode!!! Thanks."


All material written by club members in this publication does not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the staff of MSTies Anonymous. Endorsement of above publicized activities not operated by MSTies Anonymous should not be implied. Published material is subject to editing only for spelling, grammar, clarity, and formatting; other changes are not made without express written consent of the author.

Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters and situations are copyright 1999 Best Brains, Inc. This publication is not meant to infringe on any copyrights held by Best Brains, the Sci-Fi Channel, or their employees. "Gizmonics" and all related elements are copyright and trademark Joel Hodgson. This publication is not meant to infringe on any copyrights held by him, so please do not sue us.

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The Poobah
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