This MSTfic contains scenes of: Ridiculous violence, graphic stupidity, and very bad puns!

Mayhem: "You'd think he'd also throw in the 'Beware of unnatural nekkid flashes' warning too."

Chaos: "Ha! Those warnings mean nothing to me! I fear nothing...except getting a run in my pantyhose."

Pesti: [irate oversized balloon head] "WERE WE ASKING YOU?!?!

Carnage: "Would anyone object if I just stepped on him with my Wing Gundam?"

Chaos: o.O "I would!"

Wing Gundam: *CRUNCH!!*

Mayhem: "Too late."

Chaos: [picking himself out from the large Gundam-shaped footprint in the ground.] "You did that deliberately, Carnage!"

Carnage: [feigns innocence] "Who, me?"

Chaos: "That hurts, ya know!"

Carnage: "Evidently not enough. I note you're still breathing."

Havoc: ^-^ "Hotcha! If we're MSTing a hentaific, it can only mean one thing!"

Pesti: [confused] "Nekkid flashes and panty raids?"

Mayhem: "That goes without saying."

Havoc: "Hai! It's time for another Mokkori moment! And what better way to share it with everyone than with extra bowls of Jello!"

              [Cue the facevaults!]

Carnage: [with Zanba sword!] "HAVOC...!!!"

Havoc: ^-^ [bounding off!] "Hotcha! More glorious silken treasures for Hentenno-sama!"

Mayhem: "We might never see him again."

Carnage: "And your problem with that is?"

Pesti: [gesturing to Hysteria] "She's still here."

Hysteria: ^-^ "Oooh! What a kawaii little MSTfic-chan! Now what it needs are lots of kawaii little ribbon-chans and bow-chans, ne? Ne? Ne?"

Chaos: [eyebrow twitch!] "I can only pray she doesn't get stuck in this with us."

Pesti: [sweatdrop!] "Hai hai. Say, just where have Anarchy and Tasuki disappeared to? They're not even here at all to help us in this MSTfic."
Mayhem [shrug!] "Anarchy's not the type to get her hands dirty in something as warped as riffing a Chibiusa hentaific. She and Tasuki are at Club Anipike getting bombed and laughing at us."

Chaos: "Oh...goodie."

Mayhem: "Shall we?"

Havoc: ^-^ "Let's! Cue the Dojifest!!"

Fanboys: "SHADDUP HAVOC!!!"

              [Cue the MSTfic!]

              [Fanboy's Note: while this is not Oscar: Resurrection 2 (and there was much rejoicing!), this hentaific is indeed something to have a heart attack by. It ain't "The Adventures of Captain Bob Stupendous & His Caterpillars of Doom", that's for certain. Gratuitous amounts of thanks and panties must also be given unto my fellow Overlord of Mass Destruction, Lord Havoc; without his help from the very start I probably would have killed myself halfway through the riffing. Now, if you'll give us a moment to sharpen our claws, the MSTfic can begin shortly....]


Lords Chaos & Havoc present
In association with Mystery Science Theatre 3000
A cursed MST production

(An MSTfic Trilogy in 4 Parts!)

Part I: Yamheads A Plenty

              DEEP 13

              Dr. Forrester sighed as he reclined in a chair on the shallow end of Deep 13...the pool, that is. "Ah, it's good to have lost what little was left of my mad mind," he remarked. "In fact, I feel so good I think I'll bake some cookies for Joel and his two robots. They deserve a little comfort after all I've put them through. It's only fair."
              He sat up in his deck chair and grabbed his pina colata from the poolside table. "Now, would they like chocolate chip cookies, or perhaps chocolate fudge? Aw, I'll just bake both to make sure. I hope they do like sweets."
              Dr. Forrester turned to his assistant Frank, who was standing beneath a palm tree waving a large fan over the mad scientist. "Say, Frank, how about I bake you some chocolate chip cookies too?"
              The look of delight on Frank's face was priceless--and so was the piece of equipment he destroyed when he tossed the fan into the control panel for a transdimensional gateway in his fit of excitement. "Um...sorry about that," Frank said, wincing as he braced himself for the inevitable angry lecture and full-frontal lobotomy.
              Forrester waved it aside. "Nah! Hey, if I could build it once I can build it again. But you, Frank, my good friend and assistant, are irreplaceable to me."
              "Doc, you're embarrassing me," Frank sniffled.
              "Well," Forrester remarked, setting down his pina colata and getting off the deck chair. "Let's get down to those cookies for Joel and his friends, shall we?"
              "Yes, sir!" came the enthusiastic reply from Frank.
              Suddenly another Dr. Forrester--and a rather irate one at that--stormed onto the scene. "Dammit! Frank, get over here! That's not me! It's my Forresterbot and it's running amok again!"
              Frank did a double-take as he whirled, looking anxiously from one mad scientist to the next. "Excuse me?"
              "Think about it for a minute," the second Forrester snapped. "When have I ever volunteered to bake cookies...not counting those ones I fed you last month laced with the elixir that made you compulsively want to watch nothing but Barney and the Teletubbies."
              Before Frank could respond with something half-intelligible, Forrester walked over to his duplicate and flicked a switch on the other Forrester's back. The Forresterbot abruptly shut itself down, leaning forward.
              "See?" Forrester said, opening up the back of the Forresterbot to reveal an endoskeleton decorated with lots of neat neon computer chips and blinking lights. "This is the mechanical me. But I am standing here right next to myself so don't you go confusing the both of me up again, okay Frank?"
              Sweatdrops appeared next to Frank's head. "I thought something strange was going on," he said, retrieving the fan from its new hole in a hapless console.
              Forrester's eyebrow twitched. "And yet you did nothing about it?"
              Frank shrugged. "I thought it was just a phase. Like last week when you had that obsession with ruling the world through the use of duct tape."
              "Well if the women don't find you mad, they should at least find you handy," Dr. Forrester replied evenly. "Give me a hand wheeling this thing over to the corner next to the prototype for my helicopter ejection seat. Incidentally you'll be testing that tomorrow."
              Frank blinked. "Oh...goodie." He shifted his weight, nearly dropping his side of the Forresterbot onto the floor.
              "Be careful with it!" Forrester said, smacking Frank upside the back of the head. "You wouldn't believe the trouble I had to go through to steal this Terminator endoskeleton from Victor Von Doom's 'Sailor Moon Vs. the Terminator' fanfic. Reprogramming it was insane, let alone finding the proper body mould for myself."
              "I thought you were going to let the Big Toenail of Satan and Teacher Bob create the mould for its physical appearance," Frank said.
              Forrester waved it aside as the set the robot onto an operating table. "No no no, those two were the guys who created Genom's 33-C Sexaroid model. Didn't you ever stop to ask yourself just why those female Boomers had such enormous breasts and incredible libidos?"
              Picking up a screwdriver and pocket flashlight, Forrester went to work on the insides of the robot. "If I recall correctly Crow had ordered one of those Sexaroids through a Mail-Order Robotic bride catalogue."
              Forrester shuddered, recalling that bizarre "Kekko Kamen" incident. It had taken Joel three weeks to get those dumb grins off Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot's faces after they got to witness that woman's ultimate "open thigh attack" firsthand.
              A few stray sparks erupted from the panelling as Forrester yanked out a few power cords and then plugged the main CPU into Deep 13's computer system. "'Give it an emotions chip'," he muttered darkly to himself as he waited for the diagnostics check to run its cycle. "'What harm could it do?' Bah! The last I thing I want is a weenie version of myself walking around this place."
              Numerous television screens abruptly lowered from the ceiling, all tilting towards Forrester. One by one the screens went from static to systems displays for the Forresterbot. Forrester pulled out his keyboard and began to type away, searching for the error in his robot.
              "What the--?! Okay, who put this thing on the 'Kasumi Tendo' setting?! FRANK!!!"
              Frank reluctantly approached. "Yeah, I was going to tell you about that eventually. Really, I was!"
              Forrester rolled his eyes as he lit an acetyline torch and started to operate on the Forresterbot's internal systems. "Let's see...according to the schematics the leg bone is connected to the shin bone, and the shin bone is connected to the internal defensive laser array. Aha, there we are!"
              "Ooooh! That tingles!" the Forresterbot remarked cheerfully. And then suddenly the robot twitched, its eyes bugging out. "Resistance to our plot holes is futile," it boomed in a low monotone voice. "We are Borg...not Swedish."
              Forrester propped an elbow up on the Forresterbot's shoulder, and turned to Frank. "Wild guess. You let it read some of Ratliff's Marissa Picard stories, didn't you? Look, I need some tinsel and chocolate frosting to make my final adjustments. See if there's any on my desk."
              With a shrug Frank shuffled off.
              The Forresterbot stiffened as another shower of sparks erupted from the back of its head. The robot immediately turned and bowed before Forrester. "How can I ease your life, oh grand exalted master of the universe?"
              "There we go!" Forrester sighed. "A little tweaking on the Kasumi Tendo mode and we're set. Hell, this might replace you as my lab assistant, Frank."
              "So then what does that me?" Frank piped up as he tossed papers and mad invention schematics over his shoulders.
              "You get to be a full-time guinea pig rather than a part-time guinea pig," Forrester replied.
              "If it would allow you to rule the world faster," the Forresterbot said, still kowtowing to the mad scientist. "I would be glad to donate my spare parts to your experiments."
              Forrester smiled. "I like him."
              He walked over and joined Frank at his desk. Bunsen burners and test tubes were intermingled with stacks of papers depicting various designs and fanfics. Forrester tossed aside a small model for his concept of creating a Gundam in the shape of Mokona.
              "Hey, Frank, have you seen where our latest lemon to give to Joel went to?"
              Quoth the lab assistant: "KYAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
              "What the? Now what?" Forrester sighed.
              Forrester groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Not again. Frank, how many times have I told you to stay away from the aquarium which houses my carrot-piranha genetic mutation experiments?"
              Frank shrieked as he frantically raced around the lab, a dozen or so carnivorous vegetables knawing on his outfit. "GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF GET THEM OFF!!!"
              "Could you please help him?" Forrester said to the Forresterbot.
              "Anything for you, Sir," the Forresterbot replied, giving him a salute.
              With a beleaguered sigh Forrester scrounged around for the new lemon to unleash upon Joel, Tom and Crow. After a few more minutes of sifting through papers he found what he was searching for. A diabolical grin appeared on his face.
              "Ah, Rini's Special Moment With Serena," he chucked to himself. "I can't wait to see how big the therapist's bills will have to be once those guys are reduced to babbling idiots. At last, the world is in my grasp! Bwah hah hah ha hah ha--hack!"
              Forrester gave a loud cough and sniffled. "Stupid cold," he muttered. "But now it's time to finally unleash the fic that shall break their wills once and for all."

              [Cue the Mission Impossible theme music!]

              Forrester spun around. "Where's that music coming from? Frank, did you leave my Barry Manilow 8-track collection on again?!"
              "N-No..." Frank whined as yet another carrot-piranha was removed from his arm by the Forresterbot.
              "Great, just great," Forrester muttered, setting the copy of the lemonfic back down on his desk before walking off to search and destroy the CD player.
              However in turning his back away from the desk he failed to notice Crow T. Robot being slowly lowered in a waist harness towards the desktop.
              "Just a little more," Crow whispered through his headset. "Just a little more...almost there." Abruptly the rope jerked, nearly sending Crow into a large bowl of bubbling blue stuff. "What the hell's going on up there, you dickweeds?!" he hissed.
              "Sorry," came Joel's voice over the headset. "Tom decided that now had to be the time to scratch his nose."
              "Well it itched," Tom's voice protested.
              "Tom, you don't even have a nose," Joel said. "You've got a bubble-domed gumball machine for a head."
              "Um guys, could you lower me down to get the fanfic?" Crow said. "If I just hang here I can't do any of those cool Tom Cruise moves!"
              "We're not here to recreate the movie," Joel hissed. "Get the fic and then we can get you out of there!"
              Crow reached down and snatched the stack of papers from Forrester's desktop. "Got them! Ooh, I think I got a papercut. A stinging one too given all the lemon juice that's dripping from the pages of this one."
              "Save it for the riffing, Crow," Tom said. "Raise him up!"
              Crow was then pulled back up through a shaft in the air ventilation system of Deep 13. Suddenly a loud moaning echoed from Crow's harness. Crow paused. "Out of all the times she needed to be fed," he muttered, frantically working to silence his Tama-ecchi.
              Dr. Forrester spun around as he heard the moans. "What was that?"
              But by that time Crow had already scuttled back into the ducts and replacing the grate, disappearing into a transdimensional wormhole.
              "OW!" Frank exclaimed. "Not so hard, not so hard! You're not supposed to yank when it's got me *there*!"
              "Moron," Forrester sighed, walking over to the Forresterbot and Frank to aid in the retrieval of his precious killer carrots. He took one last glance at the vents over his desk. "I must be hearing things again."

*             *              *


              "Hubble hubble, expensive trouble! Pictures blur and--!"
              "Enough with the telescope," Joel Robinson cut in, helping to free Crow T. Robot from his harness.
              "Oh come on," Tom Servo sighed. "You wanted to zoom into Kate Winslet's bedroom too, Joel. Admit it."
              Joel cleared his throat. "Professional interest, that's all."
              "Yeah, well we wouldn't be doing that if you hadn't disabled my mail-order robotic bride," Crow sulked.
              "That Sexariod Boomer of yours was ready to disable all three of us if we didn't lick her boots and call her the Queen," Joel countered. Fortunately he had managed to deactivate the Sexaroid before her Dominatrix Mode had her trash the entire Satellite of Love.
              "Hey, I'd be her willing slave any day!" Tom piped up.
              Joel sighed as he undid the last of the buckles and slipped the harness off Crow. Tossing them into a corner he stared out the window at the rotating Earth far below. "I just still want to know what kind of pervert puts the On/Off switch for that kind of a Boomer on its nipples," he said, shaking his head.
              "I just want to know if they made any more of those Boomers," Crow added.
              "Do you think they're cheaper in bulk?" Tom asked.
              Crow shrugged. "Depends on whether or not they come with optional accessories...like those stunguns and hancuffs."
              Both robots received a smack in the back of their heads for their remarks. "Come on," Joel said, taking the manuscript for the stolen fanfic. "Forrester's been dropping rather obvious hints about how evil this lemon is, and I for one want to see just how much we should panic. And thanks to Crow we almost botched the whole thing up. Just where did you manage to get a Tama-ecchi anyways?"
              "Oh, Havoc left it behind after that whole Oscar: Resurrection thing," Crow replied. "Here, did you want to feed her?"
              "No!" Joel said. "Let's get a preview of this lemon."
              "Doesn't that violate the laws of the Mads?" Tom asked.
              Joel stared directly at the robot. "Oh, so you *want* your head to explode permanently?"
              Tom blinked as he considered this. "Okay!" he said enthusiastically. "Let's crack open that fic and see why Forrester's been humming REM's 'The End of the World As We Know It' for the past few days."
              Joel picked up Tom and walked over to a couch located across from the entrance into the Holocabana. Crow settled down on the other side of Joel. The trio cracked open the first page of the lemon.
              "Better safe than sorry," Joel admitted. "But even still, if we survived Oscarfics, just how bad could this one be?
              "Rini's...Special Moment With Serena?!" Crow exclaimed in utter horror as he read the title.
              "Okay, that's pretty bad," Joel said, closing the fanfic and lobbing it over his shoulder.
              "ARGH!" Tom exclaimed, his head exploding in a fiery explosion of sparks. "Why? Why was I made to feel pain?!"
              Joel shuddered. "But look at the size of that lemon. It's a good fifteen to twenty pages. We can't just cover our eyes and get going when the hentai gets depraved."
              "I vote we gouge our eyes out then," Crow suggested. Joel shot him a look. "What?" the bot protested. "I didn't say it was a good vote."
              Tom sniffed the air. "Say, what is that delicious aroma? Whatever's burning sure smells good!"
              Crow blinked. "Um, Tom...that's you."
              Tom was suddenly aware that the top of his head had turned into an enormous candle. "Woah! And here I thought I was just having hot flashes!"
              "Quick, the fire extinguisher!" Joel exclaimed, racing down the hallway and grabbing the nearest extinguisher he could. Seconds later Tom found himself doused and smoking.
              "Aw, and I just got the marshmallows ready too!" Crow lamented.
              The two robots and their creator slumped down on the cushions, thinking about how they could possibly hope to survive the upcoming fanfic with their minds--or heads--still intact. After a half hour of throwing around ideas such as putting lifelike mannequins of themselves in the theatre chairs and then making a break for it, Tom suddenly had a revelation:
              "And as I looked, he opened the sixth seal. And behold there was a violent earthquake--"
              "Wrong epiphany, Tom," Joel said. "The apocalypse will probably occur *during* the Chibiusa hentai."
              Tom shrugged. "But it makes sense: our working contracts deny us an annual two-week vacation. However all we have to do is to go on extended leave, sticking some hapless schmucks in our places to riff the lemon! So long as someone is present to riff the material we can go whenever we want!"
              "It's getting off the Satellite of Love that's always been our problem," Joel sighed. "In case you didn't notice we can't tunnel our way out...Crow, I'm looking in your general direction for that idiotic idea."
              "Hey, I'll have you know that I was so good I breached the hull and nearly killed everyone four minutes ahead of schedule," Crow countered. "But can we trust our replacements to survive something like...like Rini's Special Moment With Serena? Our vacation is doomed if Forrester unleashes this upon the world. Who could possibly be *that* deranged to begin with to endure a Chibiusa/Usagi lemon?"
              "This is even worse than that Gunsmith Catgirl Nuku Nuku fanfic that idiot fanboy Chaos wrote last week," Joel groaned, massaging his temples. He paused, a smile starting to grow on his face. "Guys, I just got a most wonderful idea."
              "Me too!" Crow piped up. "To the Hubble Telescope and Kate Winslet's bedroom!"

*             *              *

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