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The SoundTracker 2000

An Spam
MSTied by Tom Smith



       [Satellite Of Love Desk.  Servo and Crow are sitting
in front of their respective Macintosh and IBM computers,
which are connected by a null-modem cable.]

CROW:  ... Come on... come on... I know you're there... come
       on... come on...

       [Both are illuminated by the flash of their screens.]

CROW:  -- Aaahhhh!
SERVO: Ha-haaa!  Gotcha again!
CROW:  Oh, man... what's that, ten?  [sighs] All right, one more.

       [Mike Nelson enters, S.R.]

MIKE:  Hey, guys, whatcha doing?
CROW:  Arrrhh... nothing....
SERVO: Oh, Hi, Mike!  We're playing Doom II, networked.
CROW:  Yeah, and every time I go around a corner, you're there,
       and my gun *always* jams!
MIKE:  Ah.  Trying out that secret DOS-paralyzing code I showed
       you, huh?
CROW:  -- What!?
SERVO: Hsst!  Ixnay on the ode-cay!
CROW:  *What* DOS-paralyzing code?
MIKE:  Oh -- uh, just a little something I saw on the 'Net.
SERVO: Mi-ike, no!
CROW:  A little... something... you saw... on the 'Net.
MIKE:  Well, yeah.  It basically uses all the DOS machine's
       free RAM to compute Pi to enough places to fit around
       Rush Limbaugh's head.

       [Crow glares at Servo.]

CROW:  Slo-o-owly I turn...  step by step...
SERVO: Ohhh, no.  No, I never said "Niagara Fa-a-a-alls" --
CROW:  Inch by inch....

       [Crow leaps, and he and Servo vanish behind the desk.
There are the sounds of a fight.]

MIKE:  Oops.

       [Red lights flash.]

MIKE:  Ohhh, Ron Simmons and Butch Reed are calling.

       [Deep 13.  Dr. Forrester is dressed as a Space Marine,
complete with a hand-held ion-cannon-looking-thingie that says
EBFG 9001 on the side.  The Ascended-but-on-anti-sabattical TV's
Frank, all in white, stands nearby, shaking his head sadly.]

FRANK: You just don't get it, do you, Clay?  Your mad scheme to
       storm the Gates of Heaven is doomed to failure.
DR. F: Oh, no, it's not, Frank.  And *you're* the key to my
FRANK: I told you, I won't help you.
DR. F: Frank... if you lead me to the safe path to Heaven, *you*
       will rule its fast-food concessions.
FRANK: [kneeling before Dr. F] Live to serve.
DR. F: Right.  [looks at the camera]  Ahh, Nelson.  Frank and I
       were just about to begin my conquest of all that's Good and
       Holy.  This shouldn't take long... but, just in case you get
       bored, I left a couple of goodies for you.  The first
       is a short: a Spam ad for what I presume is some sort of
       pointless, useless software.  And if you can make it
       through *that*, I've got a conspiracy theory that'll
       knock your socks off... straight from the mouth of Satan.

       [Dr. F and Frank march out the Big Door, whistling the
theme from "The Bridge Over The River Kwai".]

       [S.O.L.  Lights and sirens.]



> From!!
> !!!!

> !!!!uknet
> !!demon!!
> !news Fri Jun  7 09:26:06 1996
> Path:!!
> !!!!
> !!!!uknet
> !!demon!!!news

SERVO: Geez, look at the routing.  I thought news traveled fast.
CROW:  Oh, it does.  It's the commercials that slow it down.

> From: [email protected](Omari W Muhammad)

SERVO: [singing] Sing Muhammad, Muhammad Omari,
       He floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee....

> Newsgroups:

CROW:  ... Hey, wait a minute.  I thought this was spam.
MIKE:  I thought so, too.
SERVO: Are you telling me that this company went to the trouble
       of tailoring its post to each group?
CROW:  Frankly, I'm not gonna go find out.

> Subject: LISTEN to Folk Music from ANYWHERE!!!

MIKE:  Anywhere there are people singing, anyway.

> Date: 5 Jun 1996 23:48:40 GMT
> Organization: Netcom
> Lines: 22

SERVO: A brief pain, but sharp.

> Message-ID: <[email protected]>
> NNTP-Posting-Host:
> X-NETCOM-Date: Wed Jun 05  6:48:40 PM CDT 1996

CROW:  He is an... X-NETCOM!


> I was in

MIKE:  Cruisin' for babes.

> and I read this classified ad under music

SERVO: Ahh, yes, that culinary delight, Classified Ad Under Music,
       served with a nice light chablis.

> from a company named TravelSound,

CROW:  Which I swear before God Almighty I'm not very affiliated with.

> they are promoting the Sountacker 2000 which lets you to

SERVO: [announcer] That's right, *you too*!

> listen to any radio station from any where in America. 

MIKE:  Unless your laptop goes under a bridge.

> Having the SoundTracker 2000

CROW:  Haayy!  It was the Sountacker 2000 just a minute ago.
MIKE:  Yeah, but now it's for Windows95.

> means that you can listen to the kind of music you like even
> when the local radio stations are playing something different.

SERVO: Having a Fisher-Price cassette player lets you do that,
       for cryin' out loud.

> You can also plug into what family, friends and penpals are 
> listening to.

MIKE:  "This is the G. Gordon Liddy Show.  Just shoot cops in
       the head, okay?"

> I know that sounds great to those college students who
> are away from home.

CROW:  Man, I'm bummed.  Let's log on and listen to what my Mom's
       listenin' to.
MIKE:  Dad, snoring.

> Its like having the power of the Internet flowing
> through your stereo system!

SERVO: Oh, goodie.  Modem squawking piped through one-hundred-watt
       Dolby Surround Sound.

> It pays to browse around the internet,

ALL:   [chuckle]
MIKE:  No, it costs to browse around the Internet.
CROW:  Well, this guy was paid to find someplace to stick this ad.
SERVO: I know where he can --
MIKE:  That's enough of that.

> especially in hot sites like

MIKE:  Recently voted into Mirsky's Hall Of Fame.

> because you find products and services that you won't find
> anywhere else.

CROW:  Because if you could actually see this crap, you'd
       never go near it.

> If you would like to see the ad for yourself, use this
> web URL:

CROW:  What, did he hiccup while typing?
MIKE:  I'm trying to imagine circumstances in which this would
       be an intuitive mnemonic.
SERVO: Hit DELETE instead of RETURN and you'll turn into Freakazoid.

> or 'reply to author' because I have a copy of the ad.

MIKE:  Which I could've posted if I didn't want to suck you all
       into our graphics-intensive, lock-up-your-machine web site.


> Have fun!!
> OandK

SERVO: Oatmeal and Kudzu?
MIKE:  Ollie and Kukla?
CROW:  Oksana and Katarina?


       [Satellite of Love Desk.  Mike is dressed like Harry
Belafonte, complete with bongos.  Crow and Servo have similar
billowy shirts; Gypsy wears a grass skirt and a lei.  Calypso
music starts.]

MIKE:  [singing] Hey there, all you UseNet junkies,
       Check out de newsgroups that you haunt.
       I think you're all brainless monkeys,
       But you got something that I want.

       I got-a something no one uses,
       I got-a something no one need,
       I got-a sex line no one chooses,
       I got-a hot line to your greed.

ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  Oh yeah, I got --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  If you want to muster all de troops,
       Post it in a couple thousand groups.
SERVO: Oh yeah, we got --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  In de morning --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  All de day --
CROW:  Give my Web Page a peek,
       De frames load in about a week.

SERVO: I got ways to improve your love life,
       Thirty days, increase your word power.
       Man, it pays to ignore and shove life,
       Get on-line for another hour.

CROW:  I got-a low-key pyramid land scheme,
       I got-a gal in Kalamazoo,
       I got-a hokey New Age daydream,
       And it makes Julienne fries, too.

ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
SERVO: Oh yeah, we got --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  Here's my mailing 'bot, come on and sub,
       You'll be in The 2600 Club.
CROW:  Oh yeah, we got --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  Sing along, now --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
GYPSY: We'll spread your numbers far and wide,
       Use dem decades after you've died.

ALL:   All of the digits of your credit card are
       Secure on my hard drive in Flint,
       With every transaction you've made in the past
       Ninety days!
       Somewhere out there on the Web is our charter
       With six gigabytes of fine print,
       All you have to do is negotiate our cyber-maze!

MIKE:  I got a million good ideas,
       Send me a buck, I'll tell you three,
       Learn to grow sweet corn in your Chias,
       This good advice, you can't get free.

SERVO: I got-a number, go on, call it,
       I got-a lot of stuff to sell,
       I got-a hand right on your wallet,
CROW:  I got-account on A.O.L.

ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
GYPSY: Oh yeah, we got --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
SERVO: They name it after de meat so pink,
       But you don' gotta wait for it to stink.
CROW:  Oh yeah, we got --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
CROW:  Everybody --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  If you hack so much you got no life,
       You can buy a mail-order wife.

GYPSY: Take it home now! --       
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  Sing along, mon --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
GYPSY: You can get rich quick, it won't be hard,
       If you got a major credit card.
SERVO: De last time, now --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
MIKE:  In de morning --
ALL:   Spam, spam, spam,
CROW:  Just hop up on my gravy train,
       Put your credit in de public domain.
ALL:   Just get on-line, shut off your brain,
       Put your credit in de public do-ma-ai-in!

(To be continued....)

Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and &copy 1994 by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved.

Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred.

All shtick and lyrics are &copy 1996 by Tom Smith. All rights reserved. ("Spam, Spam, Spam" was recorded on Tom Smith Plugged.)

> Its like having the power of the Internet flowing
> through your stereo system!

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