"Drug Prower"
By Jeremy Harper
MSTed WITHOUT permission by Dr. Clayton Forrester (aka Chaos Theory T. Echidna), May 16, 2000. If Mr. Harper finds out about this, he will probably kick my butt and force me to take it down, so if you're going to read this MSTing, read fast!
Mystery Science Theater 3000 is owned by Best Brains, Inc. and is being used for entertainment purposes only by the author of this MSTing.
Hello all and welcome to my fourth MSTing! Here, we again tackle another bad Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic. I normally would have left this one alone except that (a) there is an obvious self-insertion character in here, and (b) his name INSTANTLY made me think of some good old-school MSTie in-jokes. You'll know what I'm talking about when you see it! At any rate, no real offense is meant to the author of this work; I just felt like being silly. If he asks me to take it down, I will, but I'd rather he just never found my site in the first place. :P I WOULD ask permission, but when you see the EXTREMELY angry, hostile, defensive "copyrights" at the beginning of this story, you'll understand why I chose to keep my distance from the young gentleman...
NOTE: As usual, I am using in-jokes from any and ALL MST3K episodes I feel like, including Mike episodes and even as late as from the Sci-Fi era, in a supposedly "Season One" MSTing. I know exactly which episode each of these jokes came from, so it's on purpose, not out of stupidity. Oh, and Joel still has the long hair from the last MSTing. Not that that's important in any real way. I just felt like making him look like that. Now, let's watch!
"Boy, am I ever bored, Joel," complained Tom Servo, watching as Joel frantically moved his Atari 2600 joystick about in an attempt to keep his pixels from getting shot. "I've been watching you play video games for me all day, and it just isn't cutting it anymore, you know? I wish you'd give me some working arms."
Joel barely noticed what Servo had said; he was so intent on the T.V. screen. "C'mon, just a little closer, you slimeballs...yeah, that's it..." he muttered under his breath. "YEAH! ALL RIGHT! I blew up the alien headquarters! High score! WHOO!"
He set in his initials as "GOD" just to be funny, and then blinked, suddenly realising that Servo had said something. "Huh? What is it, little buddy?"
"Geez, Joel, talk about a delayed reaction!" Servo shook his head from side to side, sadly. "I was saying, I might enjoy these games more if _I_ could play them, instead of just doing it vicariously through you. Why didn't you give me working arms?"
"Well, there weren't any of the right kind of parts for that on the ship," answered Joel, turning away from Cambot briefly to rummage through a large box of old video games on the floor behind the Satellite of Love's bridge counter. He yawned. "Boy, am I tired. I can't believe we stayed up this late. It's time for bed, Tom."
"No, Joel, please?" whined Servo, looking piteously up at the human. "I can't get to sleep just yet. I'm all awake and stuff."
"Well, maybe it would help if we tried a different game." said Joel. "I'm getting kinda sick of that one. How about--oh, wait, we got Commercial Sign."
(Commmercials.)
Joel was still trying to find a game Tom was in the mood for. "River Raid?"
"Played that all day yesterday," said Servo.
"Uhhhh...Centipede?"
"Yuck. Bugs give me the creepy-crawlies."
"What about--"
"ASTEROIDS!!!" yelled out Crow, rushing onto the bridge from the right hallway as fast as he could. The spindly gold robot seemed totally out of breath--if such a thing could be said about a creature that had no need to breathe. "ASTEROIDS!!!"
"Calm down, Crow, it's Tom's turn to pick a game. And even if it was your turn, you don't have to be so excited about it. Asteroids is only an old video game like all these others--"
"NO!! ASTEROIDS!!" yelled out Crow, who was still gasping for air.
"Crow, I don't WANT to play Asteroids," complained Tom Servo, turning his bubble-dome towards Crow in what might have been an annoyed manner, had he any eyes. "I don't know what I want to play, exactly, but--"
"NO! You don't understand!" Crow finally caught his breath, then gulped and continued, "There are REAL asteroids! Outside!Near the ship! And we're about to fly right into 'em!"
"OH MY GOD!" exclaimed Joel, leaping to his feet and lunging towards the monitor so violently that he threw poor Crow completely for a flying leap, "Cambot, get me Rocket Number Nine, pronto!"
Sure enough, there was a large asteroid field on the viewscreen. And the Satellite of Love was directly in its path.
"We gotta do something! We've got only two hours at the most before they hit us!" Joel paced back and forth across the bridge, his hair flying out behind him as he thought.
"Why?" asked Servo. "Why are you so excited about this? I mean, they're just a bunch of rocks."
"Tommy-boy, if those bunch of rocks hit this ship, they'll tear a million holes in it and let out all the oxygen! Now, I know that doesn't mean much for you guys, but for us humans, no oxygen means it's time to roll the credits and leave the theater, if you get what I mean. I think I can make a pulse cannon to blow the asteroids into pieces small enough not to cause significant damage, but..." He trailed off as he noticed the Mads' light flashing. "Oh, PERFECT timing." He downed the small green seedless grape and looked into the faces of his tormentors, straightening the folds of his red velvet bathrobe as he did so. He yawned. "Hey there, sirs, what makes you call at this hour?"
"Hello there Jolene, you floating excuse for a Han Solo wannabe!" beamed Dr. Forrester. Dr. Erhardt stood behind him and slightly to the side, fiddling with something out of the camera range. "So, you're worked up over some rocks, are you? Lar, tell him what we think about that."
Laurence Erhardt puffed his chest out, deepened his voice as low as it would go, (sounding strangely like Tom Servo...) and intoned, "Asteroids do not concern me, Commander! I want them ALIVE!"
"Oh, that's just great, and all, sirs," droned Joel in a very dull, sarcastic, dry tone of voice. "I'm about to be horribly killed in the vacuum of space and you call me up just so you can do your Darth Vader impression. Is there any REAL reason you called, sirs?"
"Getting a bit uppity, are we, lab-rat?" sneered Erhardt. "Clay, can I shock him in the shammies? Plleeeeaassssee? Just once? I've been a good boy this year, really."
"No time for that now Larry, we have to do the Invention Exchange. Since you got to go first last time, this time, WE'RE taking the first slot. Sit back and marvel, Boy Joel, at the milestone achievement in evil-dom that is--"
Here both Mads stepped over to a large object covered with a sheet and yanked it off together with a flourish, saying in unison, "THE LUGGAGE LOSER!"
"Yes, you have probably heard your friends, and various stand-up comedians, complain about losing their luggage at the airport from time to time." Forrester began, walking around the device. It looked to be a scaled-down version of a typical luggage-go-round conveyor belt from any generic airline, with a spot that was covered over by curtains, where the luggage was meant to come out of. "But it doesn't happen anywhere near as often as you'd think, from all the complaining people do. No, in reality, MOST luggage actually does end up with the people it belongs to, percentage-wise. However, with THIS baby--not any more!"
"That's right!" chimed in Dr. Erhardt, walking around the machine himself, to gesture at it from a different angle. "This machine makes absolutely SURE that any and all luggage put into it is not only lost, but PERMANENTLY lost! As soon as any piece of luggage goes into this curtained area--here the young scientist flipped a lever, causing the conveyor belt to start moving, while Forrester placed a small suitcase on it--"it is instantaneously sucked into another dimension! GONE forever! BWAHAHA!!"
"And for EXTRA chaos, there is another mode available, wherein the luggage, instead of simply disappearing, ends up at a totally random location elsewhere in the world! People everywhere will find out each other's secrets, accuse each other of stealing their posessions, and classified information could even end up in the hands of enemy governments! BWAHAHAHA!!"
"Comedians would loose one of their favourite sources of jokes, too, when it is discovered that airlines really _are_ doing it on purpose!" Erhardt added. "We're talking mass hysteria here!"
"It's just the first in a long line of schemes that will enable us to--" Forrester paused, then he and Erhardt said together, "RULE THE WORLD!" Then both mad scientists broke down into a major fit of maniacal laughter.
"I thought _I_ was your first scheme to rule the world," replied Joel, who looked with trepidation at the "Luggage Loser." I hope that thing doesn't actually work, he thought to himself. MAN, are those guys ever a pair of dickweeds! "You know, shoot a man into space, keep showing him bad movies, see how long it takes him to crack, then take that last movie and broadcast it around the world until the entire human race begs for mercy, THAT plan?"
"Okay, okay, then, our SECOND plan for world domination." Erhardt waved the exact number aside as no consequence.
"Anyway, what do you have for us today, Fluffybutt?" inquired Forrester. "Not that it could POSSIBLY beat ours!" He and Erhardt indulged in a good cackle again.
"Well, sirs, my invention was inspired by all these time-travel books I've been reading lately." Joel explained, setting up the device behind the counter. "Uh, Cambot, come in closer so they can see the whole thing." The camera angle zoomed in to behind the counter, so that the characters could be fully seen, including Joel's ankles and bare feet, beneath his robe, and Crow's long, gangly gold legs with clawed feet. Standing next to Joel, in between himself and the hovering Tom Servo, was a tall blue telephone-booth like thing that looked suspiciously like Dr. Who's Tardis. "I actually made this last week, but it broke down and I couldn't get it fixed in time, it SHOULD work now," Joel apologised briefly, then went on, "Anyway, sirs, this Invention is called the 'Time-Travellers' Disguise Kit.' It's based on the premise that there seem to be a LOT of time travellers out there in sci-fi land, and they always have to worry about fitting in to the era they've travelled to and not sticking out and revealing themselves, once they get there. They usually beat up someone or steal some clothes that happen to be "conveniently" lying around, but now, with the Time Travellers' Disguise Kit, they won't have to rely on bad writing to blend in, anymore! Step into the booth and show them how it works, Tom. Uh, I mean, _hover_ into it."
Servo did so, the door closing once he was inside, and Joel then punched some buttons on the outside of the "Tardis". "Okay, let's outfit Tommy here for...say, the 1950s."
PING! The door to the device slid back to reveal Servo wearing a black leather jacket, wildly over-greased pompadour shiny black wig, and a t-shirt.
"Okay, that worked...now let's try...Medieval times."
PING! This time, Servo was wearing a blue tunic, belted at the waist, over a long-sleeved white shirt, with tights and boots, and a hat with a feather in it, ala Robin Hood.) (AUTHOR'S NOTE: Don't ask me how he's wearing the leg and footwear, he just is.)
"Last but not least...the ever-popular Ancient Roman Times!" And Tom wore a white tunic off one shoulder, with a wreath of leaves on his dome.
"Then of course, we just put it in reverse in order to change the person back into their normal look--"
"Joel, don't. Not just yet. I like this look."
"Well, okay, Tom." Joel turned back to the mad scientists. "Whaddya think, sirs?"
"Lame, as always, Flower-Power." sneered Forrester, with an arrogant toss of his head. "Your experiment this week, should you choose to watch it or not, is--"
"HOLD it." Joel held up his hands and interrupted the wild-haired doctor. "We are about to fly straight into an asteroid field and destroy the ship, in case you've forgotten! If I die before I go insane from the bad movies, that means no more experiment, no more scheme to rule the world, and you don't have any other test subjects. We don't have TIME to watch a bad movie right now!"
"That's precisely why I'm not sending you one," Forrester answered.
"YAYYY!! WHOOO!!! PARTY TIME!! YEAH!!" cried the 'bots, dancing around the bridge with glee.
"THANK you, sirs!" chirped Joel, blinking in amazement at the unexpected reasonableness. "I'll just get right to work on my pulse cannon--"
"Not so fast, Jolene, we may not be sending you a movie, but we ARE still doing the experiment for this week! Lar?"
Erhardt snickered and wiped his hand off on his double-breasted black suit. "It's a Sonic the Hedgehog fanfic, you know, from those games about the blue dude without any clothes and the robots, and ya know, the...things? With the stuff? Anyway, we haven't read it yet, but it contains an over-powered self-insert character so we know it has to be bad, and worse than that, he has a name which should bring lots of memories of PAIN back to you! Nyuk nyuk nyuk!"
"Wonder what he means by that?" Joel asked aloud. Crow just shrugged. "Tom?"
"BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, PEASANTS!" roared Tom, strutting around the countertop. "I am CAESAR! I hold your life in my hands! You must do as I say or be thrown to the lions!"
"I KNEW there was a reason he liked that costume," muttered Joel under his breath. All three lights started flashing and a loud buzzing noise blasted all over the room. "Uh, oh! Gyspy, see if you can do anything about changing our orbital trajectory!" he yelled at the purple robot, who was reading a book just off-screen. "We got MOVIE SIIIGGGNNN!!!"
(Season 1-5.5 door sequence)
This work is copyright Jeremy Harper, and any reproductions without my consent are punishable by law. However, You may copy this text, as long as you DON'T CHANGE *ANYTHING*
CROW: Whoah, they're already showing the credits, slow down!
JOEL: Don't change anything? Uh-oh, are we ever in trouble...
TOM: Jeremy Harper, your pitiful American rules mean nothing to me! I am THOMAS SERVONIUS, CAESAR! Ruler of all the vast Roman Empire! Bow down before my wrath!
JOEL: Okay, that's enough. (Takes off Tom's laurel-leaf "crown" and tosses it on the floor of the theater.)
TOM: HEY!
CROW: Hail Jeremy Harper! We who are about to riff salute you!
And DO NOT TRY TO SELL THIS
ALL: No chance of that!
(unless you E-Mail me at JerSurf@aol.com, get my permission, I get my DAD'S permission, and if I get some money {pretty complicated, huh?}.... :-))Thank you!
CROW: He is so young, he still counts on his "dad" for stuff? Oh, boy.
JOEL: Or he lives at home still and is approximately 35 years old.
TOM: Either way, this is gonna hurt. Brace yourselves...
First off, special thanks to Daniel J. Drazen for some "Editing" in the beginning of my story.
CROW: Dan Drazen? Isn't he a GOOD Sonic fanfic author? How'd HE get involved with this?!
JOEL: Well, Beverly Garland has been in some of our movies, and she's a good actress, so, yeah, that can happen.
TOM: "Good Sonic fanfic"? Isn't that an oxymoron?
CROW: HEY, a lot of it is pretty good! "Shadows of the Future", for example.
JOEL: Crow, I've told you a million times, don't plug the MSTer's stuff like that.
Also, thanks to Alessandro Sanasi (the master of constructive criticism)
TOM: And Lord of the Quip!
JOEL: No, that's us.
TOM: Oh, right.
and Jeff Read for their various suggestions,
CROW: Including the ones we can't reprint here because this is a family show...
as well as to the rest of the Sonic the Hedgehog list.
CROW: Hit list?
TOM: No, I think it's a laundry list.
JOEL: How about a grocery list? We're out of brownie fixings again...
Sonic the hedgehog and all related characters (unless otherwise noted) are copyright Sega of America and Archie Comics.
The Holodeck is copyright to Paramount Enterprises.
TOM: Oh, no, no, no, NOT a crossover! MOMMY!!!
CROW: Hold me, Joel. I'm scared.
(Joel puts his arm around Crow's shoulder.)
Bookshire and Cmdr. Packbell are copyright David Pistone, who had recently changed his name to his trademark's, Bookshire Stormforest Draftwood.
TOM: COMMANDO PACKBELL! Jet-Pack-Wearing Defender of the American Way!
CROW: Along with his sidekicks, Lt. Macintosh and Ensign Amiga! A Scottish dude and a Hispanic woman. They're going for that "politically correct" multi-culti feel.
JOEL: He changed his name to his character's name? In REAL LIFE? Geez, and I thought Trekkies were scary sometimes...
Jonathan Starwolf, Katrina Rosseti, and J. P. Anderson are copyright Jeremy Harper Publications, Inc.
(All sit in stunned silence).
TOM: Did I just hear what I THOUGHT I heard?
CROW: Jonathan STARWOLF?
TOM: As in, the Starwolves from the "Fugitive Alien" movies?
(Both robots stare at each other in horror)
'BOTS: AAAAAHHHH!!! NOOOOOO!!!
TOM: IT'S FUGITIVE ALIEN _THREE_!!! THEY ACTUALLY DID IT!!
DAMN YOU!! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!!
JOEL: Calm down, little buddy. It's NOT Fugitive Alien Three, I promise.
CROW: (sniveling) Are you sure, Joel?
JOEL: Sure I'm sure. Sandy Frank's name would have been at the beginning of the credits if it was, remember?
TOM: But the credits aren't over yet.
Any thing in my story that does not comply with any other publications of Sonic the Hedgehog, Be they video games, Fan Fiction, Comics or any "Official Sonic Stories", will be in one of those alternate realities, accessible by the Void or Cosmic Highway.
JOEL: That's no piece of alternate reality! That's a BATTLE STATION!
CROW: Cosmic Highway? Is that like the Freeway of Love?
Any names of people, places, things, furrys, etc., are coincidental, and no or little relationship to the earth equivalents. Except for a major plot item that is an object, not a person.
CROW: From their "acting" talents, you'd think that just about ALL the characters are objects instead of people.
TOM: (chuckling) Good one, Crow.
JOEL: Any resemblance to any real planets or species is mostly coincidental. If you happen to be the Earth, please don't sue me. Thank you.
Whew! Nice to get through that legal mumbo-jumbo. Now on to my (First completed) Sonic Story.
TOM: Are the credits done yet?
JOEL: Yep.
TOM: (checks back through the credits very carefully) PHEW! No Sandy Frank! We're safe.
CROW: Relatively speaking...
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Drug Prower
Part One
written by
Jeremy Harper
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Before Doomsday
JOEL: Well, if you placed the story AFTER Doomsday, all the characters would be DEAD, and that would sorta put a damper on things, so...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
KA-BOOM!
TOM: Evidently it wasn't _much_ before Doomsday.
Robotropolis, not known for frantic activity since its takeover by Dr. Robotnik,
CROW: And its takeover by the Mormons.
TOM: Pow! Zing!
suddenly sprang to life. Crews of SWATbots and maintenance bots crisscrossed its lifeless streets.
JOEL: Boldy sweeping where no-one had swept before!
TOM: That would explain Robotropolis's reputation for being filthy, then...
It was obvious what had happened:
CROW: A New Kids on the Block video had been filmed here!
TOM: Oh, no, the horror, the horror!
A laser had hit a SWAT-bot production center.
JOEL: Ouch, RIGHT in the production center!
The materials in the building had caught fire and it threatened to spread.
CROW: Mayonnaise.
JOEL: I prefer Miracle Whip, myself.
While the fire suppression system sent clouds of foam onto the flames, several SWAT-bots were attempting to get a single figure running in the night in their sights.
TOM: "Running in the night in their sights"? Huh? Are you SURE this isn't a Sandy Frank film, Joel? The dubbing is atrocious!
Safe in his headquarters, Dr. Robotnik watched the fire being extinguished on one monitor,
JOEL: I think if one of my monitors caught on fire, I'd do more than just sit there and WATCH while someone else extinguished it!
repeated and repeated the few seconds of film from a surveillance bot actually showing the laser hitting the building with deadly accuracy on another monitor, and waited to receive the inevitable report that this latest act of sabotage had been the work of freedom fighters, more than likely of Sonic the Hedgehog.
CROW: Geezus, it's the Neverending Sentence!
TOM: Wait, wait, we've got screwed-up grammar again here. Did the laser hit the building or the monitor with deadly accuracy, and is Robotnik watching the tape, or shooting at someone? I'm confused.
JOEL: Well, if it hit the monitor, that would explain why it was on fire...
But the figure who fled the scene wasn't Sonic.
CROW: It was...POWDERED TOAST MAN!
He ran as fast as possible, eyes darting
JOEL: Putting darts in your EYE? Ow, that sounds painful...
as he looked for a way of escape. He dived into a garbage pile,
TOM: What a fascinating smell you've discovered!
scrambling out the other side just before blaster fire from the pursuing SWATbots ignited the trash sending yet another column of flames into the night sky.
CROW: And just before the audience PASSED OUT FROM BOREDOM due to all these horrifically long sentences!
"Calling Robotnik," the leader of the SWAT-bots said in its monotone voice.
JOEL: (speaking into his cupped hands to simulate a "megaphone" effect) Calling all cars, calling all cars. Be on the lookout for a speedy smelly thing who is not Sonic. May be armed with a 1,000 page novel. You know what to do.
Robotnik's side screen flickered, then an image of the SWAT-bot appeared. "SWAT-BOT 64723-ALPHA. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED."
CROW: I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY FOUND OUT HOW MANY LICKS IT TAKES TO GET TO THE CENTER OF A TOOTSIE-POP.
"Did you get the saboteur?"
"AFFIRMATIVE. NO LIFE SIGNS RECORDED."
TOM: So, the saboteur was already dead? Then how'd he blow up the building?
JOEL: Or the monitor, or the Swatbots, or Robotnik's rewind button, or whatever the hell he blew up...
CROW: It's the Incredibly Strange Hedgehogs Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Saboteurs!
"Can you confirm that it was the hedgehog?"
"INSUFFICIENT DATA, SIR."
CROW: We do have plenty of Lore, though.
"BLAST!"
JOEL: (as SWATbot) THE SABOTEUR ALREADY DID THAT, SIR.
Robotnik brought his fists down on the console, causing the image to flutter.
TOM: No, it's a picture of a butterfly; it's supposed to do that.
In an instant, he composed himself.
CROW: As a concerto in B-minor.
Robotnik got out of his chair.
JOEL: For the first time in his entire life.
TOM: That would explain how he got so fat...
"Good work Alpha. Return to headquarters."
"One can always hope. Perhaps that good-for-nothing rodent is finally gone."
TOM: Wait...who was that second speaker, there?
The shadow was just leaving the city.
CROW: And now it's a crossover with Babylon 5! AAAAAHHHHH!!
The dark form snuck through the forest, looking for a certain tree stump.
CROW: Actually, I think _any_ tree stump would work for that...
JOEL: Crow, get your mind out of the gutter.
Once he found it, he pulled a vine, causing the stump to pop open. Then sliding in the smooth tunnel,
TOM: ...he found himself on a waterslide at "Seven Peaks"! How he got there, we'll never know...
he emerged seconds later in Knothole village.
JOEL: Which was, due to a mistake in planning, built right next to the median strip on Highway 82.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
JOEL: See?
The light in Knothole being sufficent to see, he walked through the small town,
TOM: Directly _through_ the town, mind you. The inhabitants were hardly pleased.
looking for a hut with some members of the freedom fighters, especially the princess. His dark fur blended with the dark side roads easily.
JOEL: Okay, OKAY, he's a dark shadowy mysterious figure, we UNDERSTAND that, get ON with it!
He ducked at the side of a hut listening in on the Freedom Fighters' plans.
CROW: He _ducked_ at a hut? What, was someone THROWING it at him?!
TOM: That guy couldn't hit the broad side of a hut. Heh heh heh.
"... Rotor will set off the bombs in this pattern,
CROW: ...measure out the fabric, cut it with shears, sew it by hand, and make a lovely sundress...
clearing a large area for our attack. The laser traps are in this shape, and this reflector will be destroyed.
JOEL: Oooh, notice the really vivid description in this segment!
TOM: I almost feel like I'm there!
The Weapons developing plant is a good diversion, and the SWATbots will be there.
TOM: It was a dull story, and Allstate was there.
CROW: You're in good exo-pinchers, with SWATbots!
We will be at the prisoner detention center,
JOEL: Getting taken prisoner...
where we will use Rotor's new machine to stop the electro-bars,
CROW: Do you know how to use Rotor's new machine?
TOM: No, but if you hum a few electro-bars, I can fake it.
and we will take the prisoners to Knothole, via Dulcy.
JOEL: Dulcy Airlines. We love to fly. And it shows.
CROW: More like they love the GROUND...
We will meet at the west edge of Robotropolis at 2000 hours. Any questions? No? Good!"
TOM: Not that she paused for even the tiniest FRACTION of a second to ALLOW anyone to ask any questions, but hey...
JOEL: (thoughtfully) Ya know, there's something about that name, "Robotropolis", that's just somehow...I dunno...FAMILIAR...
CROW: Joel, I think the author just broke the Obscure-O-Meter on THAT one.
The shadow then walked to the front door, and opened it.
JOEL: Well, actually Mr. Morden opened it for him, but same diff.
An audible squeak was heard as the door opened.
CROW: *SQUEEAAAKKKKK*!
TOM: As opposed to an INaudible squeak? If it wasn't audible, it wouldn't be a sound at all!
JOEL: Maybe it's a subtitle that says "Squeak"?
A series of turning heads greeted him.
JOEL: The Freedom Fighters had all watched the movie "The Excorcist" a few too many times...
He spoke in a late teen voice, "You really ought to get that door fixed."
TOM: And we have self-insert character, ladies and gentlemen!
CROW: A teenager. WHY am I _not_ surprised...?
JOEL: Could be worse, he could be a Teenager from Outer Space.
Silence was his reply as he was looked over by the Freedom Fighters.
CROW: (as Sally) Check out that cute butt!
TOM: (as Bunnie) Ah'm not real fond o' that hairdo, though.
JOEL: (as Sonic) What a dork!
He was a wolf, about 5 feet tall at full height,
JOEL: Five feet tall? Hey, just like our author!
TOM: NOW who's breaking the fourth wall?
CROW: I would just like to point out here that, since the average Mobian is between 2 and 4 feet tall, and I assume they build their structures to fit that size, this guy just bonked his head on the doorway really hard. Thank you.
standing on his rear legs, had gray fur with light shades of golden brown in it, dark brown eyes. His fur right near his eyes were light gray, and his fur on his hands white.
TOM: Wait, wait, wait, hold it, hold EVERYTHING! We've been told a million times before this point that this guy is "shadowy" character, he has "dark" fur--he's supposedly JET BLACK! What's up with all this light brown and white garbage?!
A small smile was on his face, as usual... in normal circumstances.
CROW: Well, he IS a Mobian. They all have Smilitis.
He was wearing full black clothes: a tee shirt, some Jean shorts.
CROW: Oh, a fashion faux-pas. You're never supposed to wear black to a summer party.
TOM: "Some" jean shorts? So, he was wearing more than one pair?
"What? Was it something I said?" He asked, perhaps jokingly. It was impossible to tell.
JOEL: He being so totally unfunny, and all.
Sally was the next to speak. "No... It's just that I've never seen you before, and you look familiar..."
JOEL: Oh, I can see--HUH?!
"Why shouldn't I? You've seen me before, just not directly.
CROW: Usually you only see me in your nightmares.
I'm usually with the rest of the Wolf Pack."
"Okay... What's your name?"
TOM: Said the Unknown Speaker.
"My name is Jonathan Starwolf."
TOM: AAAAAAHHHH!!! NOOOOOO!! NOT A STARWOLF!!! MAKE IT GO AWAY!! MAKE IT GO AWAY!!!
JOEL: I think we could all use a little break right about now. C'mon.
(They leave the theater)
(Seasons 1-5.5 door sequence)
Click HERE to go on to the next part.