MSTing "Something in the String of G
--- Part 7 of 8 ---
[OPEN ON: Theater. Gypsy, Scratch, and Pearl re-enter. Scratch still has
his dog ears on.]
SCRATCH ("Sleeper"): Hello. I'm Rags. Woof woof woof!
PEARL: Can it, Rin Tin Dim.
>"Hi ya, B.A.," Hannibal grinned.
>
>"You looked good, Colonel," the sergeant snickered.
MADGE: For a LOSER!
>
>Undaunted, Hannibal's smile broadened. "Thanks, B.A. I'm considering
>making this my part-time job.
GYPSY: Self-debasement pays that well?
SCRATCH: In this culture? Oh, yeah.
> I've always been a frustrated Fred
>Astaire at heart."
>
>Face, who had been trying to avoid B.A.'s taunts by hiding behind
>Hannibal groaned softly.
[All snicker.]
MADGE: Poor Face. Couldn't find a pastry chef to protect you? Linda Hunt
wouldn't agree to be your bodyguard?
> That was all the encouragement the sergeant
>needed. Peeking around the colonel,
[All snigger and shake their heads.]
PEARL (Face, whiny): No one's back here! Stop looking!
>B.A. looked at Face and dissolved
>into fits of giggles, pointed at the embarrassed lieutenant.
GYPSY: In all fairness to B.A., I'd be doing the same thing here.
MADGE: Face could be fully dressed, and I'd be doing the same thing.
SCRATCH: Face could be fully dressed, walking around Six Flags, looking
for some soft serve ice cream, and I'd be doing the exact same thing
B.A. is doing here, no question.
>
>"That's enough B.A.," Face threatened.
PEARL (Face): You... you stop or... or I'll hold my breath until I
pass out!
>
>Baracus had no intention of letting up. He mimicked a few rather
>feminine dancing positions then giggled louder.
SCRATCH: See, the great thing with fan fiction is, the characters are so
familiar, it doesn't matter when they can act like imbecilic warthogs!
MADGE (laughs): That is the great fun thing about fan fiction, yes.
>
>"That's it. I'm finished," Face growled. "He'll never let us live
>this down!"
>
>Hannibal watched the laughing man who now had tears in his eyes.
GYPSY (sings): Don't CRY OUT LOOOOUUD! Just keep in INSIIIIDE! Learn
how to...
>"Yeah. He's going to get a lot of mileage out of this gig."
>
PEARL (sighs): If they start that Kia commercial, I'm leaving.
>"Smith," Tom called. "The first dancer is coming out now. You go
>take a quick break then get back here.
SCRATCH: Yeah, quit standing around doing nothing and take a break!
> The place gets real hectic
>once the show starts. I'll need everyone on hand by the time the
>second guy hits the floor.
MADGE: Oh, it's Public Firing Squad Night!
> These women get real thirsty." He
>winked knowingly and turned to Peck.
PEARL (Tom): We got a call from the Navy. Your incessant whining is
interfering with their sonar.
> "You take over in the back
>there. It'll start picking up soon."
GYPSY: Sure, go, take over that unspecified picking-up thing.
>
>"Come on, B.A.," Hannibal said, tugging at the man's arm.
MADGE: Yeah, enough carjacking. Time for some indecent exposure!
>
>Still chuckling, the sergeant followed his leader to the back of the
>club.
>
>Face, grateful for the absence of his tormentor, was almost eager to
>get back to serving drinks to the vocal and demonstrative crowd.
SCRATCH (demonstrator): What do we want?
ALL: PLOT LINES!
SCRATCH (demonstrator): When do we want'em?
ALL: NOW!
>
>
>
>Tom Watters hadn't exaggerated when he said the place would get
>hectic.
MADGE: Soon everyone was in front of their terminals shooting ogres!
GYPSY: No, that's Heretic. It's different.
> From the moment the MC (another of Tom's chores)
PEARL: Boy, Tom is just a multifaceted entertainment dynamo.
SCRATCH: He's the Sammy Davis Jr. of stripping, he is.
> announced
>the first dancer, the little club exploded with activity. The women
>surged forward, surrounding the small dance floor and filling up every
>available seat.
GYPSY: You know, when Jesus said to love your fellow man, I kinda doubt
this is what he had in mind.
SCRATCH: I just hope he didn't rise from the dead to find a bunch of
dollar bills stuck in his tunic.
MADGE (laughs): That would be awkward.
> The orders for drinks were so frequent that Face
>barely had time to glance at the dancer, dressed in a Zorro costume,
>when he took the floor. He did, however, reel from the sudden
>increase in volume of the womens' screams of approval.
[All snigger.]
PEARL: Yeah, this guy served in Vietnam, all right.
SCRATCH: He's got post-traumatic wuss disorder!
> If he could
>have tested the noise level, he was ready to bet the decibels were
>well into the dangerous range.
GYPSY (Face): This sucks! I'm telling OSHA!
> It was all he could do to concentrate
>on the orders.
PEARL (Face): Huh? A screwdriver? Uh, there's a toolbox in the basement,
I think. What? No, I won't bloody Mary! You fight your own battles!
>
>On his fifth trip to the bar, he noticed briefly that Zorro had
>removed a good part of his costume, but there was no time to fully
>analyze the situation.
GYPSY (sighs): Never bring an engineer to a strip tease.
SCRATCH (engineer): Now the formula for the speed at which that's
twirling can be derived from this simple second degree differential
equation...
>Vaguely he was aware of Tom's voice overriding the roar of the crowd,
>but he couldn't make out all of what he was saying. It sounded like,
>"What do you want him to do?"
MADGE (woman in crowd): Commit to the relationship!
PEARL (same): Think about MY needs!
GYPSY (same): At least leave the toilet seat down for once!
>Then the roar of the audience would
>drown him out again.
SCRATCH: In a flash-flood of estrogen. Not a bad way to go, come to
think of it.
>
>Out of breath and nearly exhausted,
MADGE: I guess a life of hand-to-hand combat just doesn't prepare a
man for the rigors of bartending.
GYPSY: Face thinks a free-weight workout means it doesn't have any.
>Face was glad to see Hannibal
>return to the floor. He had detoured in the colonel's direction when
>he noticed an odd expression on his leader's face. "Something wrong,
>Hannibal?"
SCRATCH (Hannibal): Sure. We're three-fourths through the story and
still no villain! Who's gonna have a bone-crushing fiery car crash
to implausibly walk away from?
>
>"Uh..." he mumbled, then pointed toward the stage. Face turned in
>that direction then froze, his mouth gaping open in astonishment.
GYPSY: He's landing his jete on toe point! Incredible!
>
>"Zorro" was moving off the stage, kissing women along the way, smiling
>and waving and wearing nothing but a tiny black G string with a
>sequined Z on the front.
SCRATCH: His G string says Z? That's against truth-in-labeling laws,
ain't it?
MADGE: The fast-forward button on his VCR must read "YY".
> The women were screaming in delight.
>
PEARL (excited woman): He didn't talk about sports or go golfing on
my birthday!
>As the dancer moved through the crowd and toward the bar, someone
>handed him a robe. He put it on but didn't bother to fasten it,
>giving the ladies a few parting glimpses of his near perfect and
>nearly nude body.
SCRATCH: Thank you! This strip brought to you by the letter Z, and
the numbers 6 and 9!
GYPSY: Chippendales is a production of, the Children's Television
Workshop!
>
>As he passed by Face and Hannibal, he winked. Face grabbed
>Hannibal's arm. "Did you see that? Did you?" he demanded.
PEARL (Face): Wasn't Zorro dreamy?
>"Yeah," Hannibal drawled, slowly turning his eyes toward
>B.A. Sergeant Baracus was grinning wickedly. "You knew
>about this all along, didn't you?"
>
>B.A. nodded happily.
MADGE: Time to flip over all the cards and tell the panel what the
club really is!
>
>Face was appalled. "Why didn't you tell us?"
>
>"I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later," he grinned.
>
PEARL: Guys, face it. This was like trying to figure out a ham
sandwich- and failing!
SCRATCH: In the Stone Age, these were the guys you had to explain
the wheel to twice.
>"What about Murdock?" Hannibal wondered. "Did he know what sort of
>place this was?"
>
>B.A. nodded again.
MADGE (Face): Wait, what sort of place?
SCRATCH (Hannibal): Face, a guy just stripped.
MADGE (Face): Uh-huh. So, it's like a water park with tube rides?
PEARL (B.A.): It's a strip club, fool!
MADGE (Face): A bookstore cafe?
SCRATCH (Hannibal): MEN- TAKE OFF- THEIR CLOTHES- FOR MONEY!!
MADGE (Face): Oh, OK! One of those New Age oxygen bars! Those are cool!
[All groan.]
PEARL (B.A.): Let me kill him, sir. One shot. End our misery.
>
>"I can't believe I'm working in a strip joint," Face bemoaned.
SCRATCH (Face): I always thought I'd end up refing cockfights in Tijuana.
> "With
>a bunch of male strippers!"
>
>"I think they're called male exotic dancers," Hannibal offered
>helpful.
GYPSY: Or prime rib, or lap candy. But "stripper" is just degrading!
>
>"It's the same thing!" Face yelped.
>
>Suddenly, Hannibal's blue eyes widened and he turned to B.A. "If
>Murdock knows abut this place then that means..."
>
>"What? What?" Face urged.
MADGE: That there's one more excruciatingly awful plot point to resolve!
>
>"He's the next dancer to perform."
>
>Realization hit Face like a sledge hammer.
ALL (rooting, Pearl pumps her fists): Yaaaay! Whoo-hoo! All right!
PEARL: Hit him again!
MADGE: Harder!
GYPSY: In the face!
SCRATCH: Oh-ho, juicy, joyous payback! Ha ha!
> "You mean, he's going
>to...in front of all these...naw. Not even Murdock is that crazy.
PEARL: The man's legally married to a ficus! YOU tell me how crazy he is.
MADGE (Michael Palin): Tonight, on "It's the Mind", we discuss the
phenomenon of déjà vu. That extraordinary feeling...
> Is he?"
>
>B.A. and Hannibal nodded.
GYPSY: Oh, good! The understated nuances of that line really needed
Face's sledgehammer to drive it home.
>
>"Well, ladies, you've seen the romantic and heroic man of the past,
PEARL (Tom): -now see the dull uncaring fat bastards you're going home to!
>now feast your eyes on a man from the future. H.M.,
GYPSY: Hosni Mubarak?
> our Chippendales
>Ass-tronaut!"
[All titter.]
MADGE: Tom also won that pun competition in Limerick three years running.
>
>The small dance floor began to fill with smoke, swirling around in
>little clouds. An electronic melody joined the smoke and suddenly,
>from a door beside the mirrored wall, a tall man appeared and moved to
>center stage.
SCRATCH: Um... he's not from the future very much.
PEARL: Shhh! Guys! Come on, this is the payoff! The whole fanfic was
building to this scene!
MADGE: Yeah, without a permit, I might add.
> He was dressed in a silver, form-fitting spacesuit and
>a silver and black helmet that obscured his face. Hands splayed
>seductively on his hips,
[ALL snicker except Pearl.]
PEARL: Guys! Quit it! This is the author's vision!
GYPSY: A bald, stringy, second-rate actor vogueing in a goofy space suit.
MADGE: Not exactly Kurisawa material, is it.
> feet planted slightly apart, he looked ready
>to tackle the final frontier.
>
>"Okay, ladies, you want to see if our Ass-tronaut has the right
>stuff?"
SCRATCH: Well, can't he just, like, go on a journey of self-discovery,
and report back to us?
> The crowd roared while the theme from the film, "The Right
>Stuff",
GYPSY: Oh, you mean Tchaikovsky's "Violin Concerto in D"?
[Scratch and Pearl look at Gypsy.]
GYPSY: What?
> filled the room. H.M.
SCRATCH: Howie Mandel?
> began to move. He tilted his hips to the left,
>then the right, in time with the music. The women moaned in
>appreciation.
PEARL (patron): Oo, this is just like my dream! You know, the one where
I'm charged $7.50 for a margarita while Buzz Aldrin waves his bony
ass in my face?
>
>The tempo of the music increased, and H.M.
GYPSY: Harold MacMillan?
>began to move about the
>floor turning and strutting in time with the sensuous theme.
MADGE: Hoo boy. How I yearn for the quiet, understated dignity of
Ro-man right about now.
SCRATCH (Ro-man): To live, like the hu-man!
MADGE: You know that one?
SCRATCH: Hey, we MADE that one.
>
>"How would you like this NASA man to insert you into orbit, ladies?"
>Tom queried.
GYPSY: Oh, I'd like to do it within the safely ceramic tiled confines
of the Space Shuttle Discovery, with him gagged and bound beneath
the thrusters during takeoff. Thank you for asking!
> Screams of approval echoed within the walls of
>Chippendales.
>
>Templeton Peck looked pleadingly at Hannibal. "Tell me he's not going
>through with this?"
MADGE: You know, Face, you look for a lot of external validation. I'm
not criticizing. Just an observation.
>
>Hannibal shrugged. "You know Murdock when he's enthused about an
>idea."
>
>Face reluctantly turned back to the uninhibited member of the A-Team,
SCRATCH: The poor are crazy, the rich are eccentric. Strippers are
"uninhibited"!
>not certain what he would see. Murdock was peeling off his gloves,
>slowly, one finger at a time,
PEARL: No! Don't! Shoot, he pulled off his infected hangnail.
> while his body still moved in time with
>the throbbing rhythm of the music.
MADGE (Murdock, singing): I could LEAVE my hat on... if I LEFT my hat
on... you would SEE my hat on...
>One glove was tossed to the back
>of the crowd. The other he released slowly to a woman in the front
>row.
SCRATCH (Murdock, nervously): Ah, I need those back after the show?
They're on loan from the Pentagon? At $20K a pair I'd just have to
come back here and work full-time, and neither of us really want
that, I think.
>
>"Ya wanna have H.M.
GYPSY: Henry Miller?
> explain the difference between roll,
>pitch and yaw?" Tom asked.
PEARL: Oh, come on! These are your best double entendres? How about
"Picture him engaged in docking procedures!"
SCRATCH: Watch as he fires his thrusters and performs a deorbit burn!
MADGE: Admire his skill with the Manned Maneuvering Unit!
>He said each word as if it had more to do with sex than the
>movements of a spacecraft.
SCRATCH: Wha- why you know, I had totally missed the subtext of
those seemingly innocuous remarks!
GYPSY: Thank goodness, Lori cares enough to point these things out!
> The women understood
PEARL: No duh.
> and answered with a resounding,
>"YES!"
>
>Murdock, his hips rotating in smooth circles, slowly
>unzipped his silver jacket, exposing his hairy chest.
GYPSY and SCRATCH: Ewwwww!
PEARL: Shut up, all of you! You especially, lackey.
SCRATCH (crying): But I want the sick man's hairy chest to go away!
PEARL: Tough. Some demon you are.
SCRATCH: Even we have limits.
> The
>women expressed their delight vocally.
PEARL: Except for those with laptops, who forwarded Tom some e-mail.
MADGE (deadpan): My loins are afire. A lust stirs within me. Take
me, brave warrior, to the mystical place you call your boner.
>
>"Wanna see our Ass-tronaut, up close and personal?" Tom
>taunted.
SCRATCH: You know, Garfield was wrong? It's not getting any funnier.
>Murdock responded to the demand by lifting off the dark,
>globular helmet and flashing his little boy smile at the
>audience.
GYPSY (gasping): Max Headroom!
ALL: RUUUUN!
>
>"Hannibal!" Face grabbed the colonel's arm. "He's wearing a
>hairpiece!"
SCRATCH (Face): And not in the normal place, if you catch my shrewd
sexual implication!
>
>It was true. The receding hairline of one H.M. Murdock had been
>temporarily obscured by a small toupee. Hannibal studied the effect
>and then smiled. "It makes him look ten years younger."
GYPSY: -than Eric Severeid.
>
>"Hannibal, he looks ridiculous!" Face complained.
>
>"Nonsense. I think it makes him look rather...sexy."
MADGE (sings as Chris De Berg): I never seen you look so lovely as you
did tonight... Never seen you SHINE so bright!
SCRATCH (laughs): The Murdock in Red?
MADGE: I guess so.
>
>Face's blue eyes widened and he took a step away from the colonel. He
>was beginning to think the entire team was insane.
PEARL: No, no, no, it's a natural, normal, healthy lifestyle that no
psychology textbook lists as an illness!
GYPSY: Homosexuality?
PEARL: No, posting skin-curdling offal on the Internet.
> First Murdock dons
>a "rug" and humiliates himself in front of all these women, then
>Hannibal starts saying he thinks the pilot is sexy! Was he the only
>normal man in the building?
SCRATCH (Face): It's just like "Invasion of the Body Snatchers", but
with less clothing!
>
>It was clear to the women, if not to Templeton Peck, that H.M. Murdock
>was having a terrific time!
PEARL: Oh, this is nothing. My aunt does the same thing after three
wine coolers.
MADGE (gagging): Gee, thanks for sharing.
> He's unzipped his jacket completely now
>and had turned his back to the audience. Looking back at them, he
>smiled wickedly, then bared one shoulder in the age-old fashion of the
>stripper.
>
>"What do you want him to do?" Tom yelled.
GYPSY (woman): Stop trying to solve my problems!
>
>"Take it off!" was the enthusiastic reply.
>
>So he did.
MADGE (as storyteller): And so he did! The fluffy bunny lumpkins took
off his shiny blue bunny shoes, and his brightly colored bunny
waistcoat, showing off his oh-so-happy bunny nipple rings!
GYPSY: All right, that's enough.
> Bare chested, he executed a few steps and turns, moving in
>perfect synchronization with the pulsating music.
>
>"Wanna plot his trajectory?"
ALL: SHUT UP!
SCRATCH: Yeah, we'll plot YOUR trajectory, pal!
MADGE: Man, this like every wedding deejay during the garter bit.
>
>Smiling gleefully, H.M.
GYPSY: Hulk-a Maniac?
> moved to a lady in the front row and placed
>his foot on the edge of her set.
SCRATCH: Whoa-ho! They can support that much weight?
GYPSY: You know that's not the set she's talking about.
SCRATCH: Guess it really is a Wonderbra! Heh heh!
> Bending over, he unzipped first one
>boot
PEARL: -then lost his balance and fell headfirst into the orchestra pit.
> and then the other, smiling seductively at her the entire time.
>Once the footwear was removed, he tossed them aside and gave the woman
>a little kiss.
MADGE (woman, snarky): Oh, thanks, great, a close-up of your toe
fungus. Now I'm fulfilled.
>
>The gesture roused the women to higher levels of enthusiasm.
ALL (women, robotic): We have quantified our enthusiasm. It is now
higher than previously codified.
SCRATCH: This would be the Stepford branch of Chippendales.
> They
>were jumping up and down in their seats, waving their arms and
>screaming.
PEARL: YOU'RE the next contestant on, The Price Is Right!
> Thoroughly at ease with the situation, Murdock continued
>his dance which seemed to Face to be an odd mixture of aerobics,
>karate moves and even a few ballet turns.
MADGE: Oh, as indicated by what? His hip tilting? The glove throwing?
SCRATCH: He's doin' the strip tease from "The Nutcracker Suite".
GYPSY: Please.
SCRATCH: Oh, you didn't see Mark Morris's production? It rocked, baby!
> (Where he had learned them
>Face had no wish to know.) The women didn't seem to care what he did,
>as long as he took off his clothes.
PEARL: And marked them down, up to 60% off designer spacesuit names!
Like Mercury! Apollo! Enterprise!
GYPSY: Now through Saturday!
>
>Murdock twirled and lunged, rolling his shoulders in a suggestive
>fashion and then reached for the zipper on his silver pants. Rolling
>his hips in circles, he taunted the screaming females before finally
>peeling off the skin-tight garment and tossing it into the crowd.
>Underneath, the nearly naked member of the team wore a blue bikini.
[All laugh hysterically.]
GYPSY (shaking her head): Oh, Lori, Lori, Lori, Lori, Lori.
MADGE: The absence of the word "briefs" there just speaks volumes.
>
>Face cringed and shielded his eyes, not wanting to look any further.
PEARL: The first rational thing the schlub's done all day.
SCRATCH: The world's gone mad- for Versace!
[Logo, Commercial]
--- End Part 7 ---
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