the evil overlords

[INT SATELLITE OF LOVE. Mike, Crow T. Robot, and Tom Servo are horsing around at the console with Joel's Rock'n'Wreck guitar. The Deep 13 call button flashes.]

MIKE: Whoops, Fripp and Eno are calling.... (Hits the button)

[INT DEEP 13.]

DR. FORRESTER: Greetings, Crow D., Flavorless Flav, Tominator X. Something a little different today, punkies: Frank was trying to write a shell script on the server and accidentally crosswired and So you'll be getting your first music video today.


MIKE: (Butt-Head voice) Huh huh. He said "script." Huh huh huh....
CROW: (Beavis voice) Yeah. Hmm hmm mmm hmm....
TOM: (Mr. Anderson voice) Whut th' hell?

[INT DEEP 13.]

DR. F: Joke while you can, Martha Quinn, this'll be a killing joke! No, not the band Killing Joke -- I mean Nine Inch Nails. (Draws himself up and points at camera) Bow down before the one you serve!
TV'S FRANK: You're going to get what you deserve....
DR. F: I bring you "closer" -- to PAIN. Send 'em the video, Frank.

(Movie light/buzzer goes off)


[Door sequence: 6...5...4...3...2...1...]

(Heart letting off steam)
CROW: What is this, the Jarvik 6?
TOM: When I asked for a plate of "steamers," I wasn't expecting this!

eggstra savoir faire

(Bald lady with eggs spinning on fingers)
MIKE: Hey, it's Edie the egg lady!

(Trent holds nautilus shell)
CROW: I can never remember -- is that a nautilus shell or a conch shell?
TOM: Hey Mike, they "conched" him on the noggin, too!
MIKE: Don't remind me....

(Millipede crawling around)

(Man behind ticket window)
MIKE: Ladies and gentleman, the president of TicketMaster!
TOM: Thank you, thank you. A ten-dollar-per-ticket service charge is more than fair, and Pearl Jam are just a bunch of whining dickweeds....

(Crucified monkey)
CROW: "Rhesus To Be Cheerful, Part 3."

(Trent dangles in midair)
TOM: Thunderbirds are Alternative!
CROW: He's wearing the Playtex "No Visible Means of Support" jockstrap.

the bill and bob show

(Committee of old men)
CROW: Hi, we're from the PMRC. Tipper wants to make sure you don't do anything...y'know...nasty.
MIKE: "Grumpy Old Men."
TOM: It's the Franz Kafka Appreciation Society!

(Trent claws at himself)
TOM: Nurse? Some Prozac for Mr. Reznor, please.

(Trent sings "You can have my everything!")
MIKE: Of course I don't want everything! Where would I put it?

(Machine with pig head on top)
TOM: Pork -- The Other Erector Set!
CROW: Pigbot?
MIKE: Don't worry, pig lovers, we didn't use a real pig!
CROW: Yes we did!
MIKE: Uh -- okay, but it was just this once....

(Blurred nude woman posing with steer skull)
MIKE: Uh, I think that's the point.
CROW: Huh? Oh. Saaaaaayyy....

that's a moray

(Moray eels swimming)
TOM: two heels, an L, and an electric eel.
CROW: Ah, here it is! "Long-nailed man fears for brain...."

(Man in top hat holding cow's tongue)
BOTS: (singing) "Smelly tongues...look just how they felt...."

(Little girl lounging on chair)
TOM: Alice In Reznorland!
CROW: Kathy Ireland -- The Preschool Years!
MIKE: (dirty old man voice) Hey, little girl, wanna be the next Tawny Kitaen?

(Hand operating old-fashioned adding machine)
MIKE: ...fifty thousand for payola this week, eight thou for the cocaine....

(Trent buffetted in wind tunnel)
TOM: Major John Paul Strapp -- The Musical!

(Film catches and burns up in frame)
CROW: (disgusted) Union projectionist....

(Man blows dust off top hat)
ALL: *cough!* *cough!* *choke!* *gasp!* *wheeze!*

the one-handed method

(A dangling Trent plays piano at the end)
CROW: "Trent Plays Tori Amos -- Badly!"
TOM: Madame Sousatzka, I'm ready for my lesson now....

(Final shot of burning candles)
MIKE: Extinguish your candles! (Where applicable...)
CROW: I'm getting nausea. Let's go.

[Reverse door sequence: 1...2...3...4...5...6...]


TOM: Well. Scar me for life, why don't you?
CROW: You get the feeling the wrong band did "I Hate Myself And I Want To Die...."
MIKE: Come on, guys, it wasn't that traumatic. Didn't you enjoy the faux-antique cinematography? The nods to Man Ray and Mark Pauline?
CROW: Not to mention self-loathing so thick you could eat it with a fork!
TOM: Yeah, but use a spoon -- you'll want to gouge out every last drop of your spleen!
MIKE: Teenyboppers. (Call light flashes) What do you think, sirs?

[INT DEEP 13.]

(Frank is dangling from a wire. A drum synthesizer thumps mournfully in the background)
FRANK: Oh, I'm so depressed. Oh, my life sucks. Oh....

(Dr. Forrester comes into view)
DR. F: Well, Depeche Mode, I see that clip left you thoroughly "broken." (Chuckles at his little joke) Now if you'll excuse us, I have to have Frank "fixed"....

(Dr. Forrester pushes Frank away. Frank swings back, slams into Dr. Forrester, and pushes him into the control panel.)



you have been watching...
Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters
and situations are (c) Best Brains Inc. Nine Inch Nails
and "closer" are (c) Nothing/TVT/Interscope Records.
All rights reserved. All slights deserved. Intended as
satire (which will probably be lost on Trent, but so
what). The author has opted not to crosspost this on for fear that he will be burned at the stake.

-- created by robert payes

push the button, frank