Act I The PlanIt is the year 2039. (Not right now--this is when the story takes place.) An alien race, the Nar’waal, send out an extermination team to rid the earth of all human life, preparing the planet for a colonization team. Dr. Strange learns of this plot. His warnings are ignored. He barely has time to construct a safety beam that will protect only those humans who reside in the Lounge.
All those humans outside of the safety beam are annihilated. But the remaining humans are not entirely safe, for the colonization team is headed to the planet. Dr. Strange comes up with a plan to fight the Nar’waal. Will it succeed?
The vast hall in the basement of Dr. Strange’s house more than fit his name. He referred to his basement as the “Sanctum Sanctorum,” which was Latin for “Holy of Holies” (although it could also be translated as a euphemism for “Rick Santorum’s holes,” but why would anyone want to do that?). The basement was filled with the last remnants of humanity. And Dr. Strange was preparing to tell them about his plan.
“The Nar’waal Colonization team is coming,” Dr. Strange told them. Everyone laughed, thinking it was one of his standard opening jokes. “OMG, STFU ya’ll, I’m serious.” Everyone got serious.
“The Nar’waal are a highly advanced civilization, militarily speaking. We don’t have much to fight them with…yet. But I have constructed a device which just may help us defeat them.”
The awesomely sexy doctor removed a sheet which covered what looked like a dentist’s chair.
“Behold, the Strange Replicator!”
Everyone gasped. And stared, wondering how a dentist chair was going to defeat an advanced civilization from another planet.
“What the hell is it?” Rabrrrrrr asked.
“It’s the Strange Replicator. It works like this.” The doctor sat and grabbed four wires from the sides of the chair. “You attach two of these wires to your temples,” the doctor explained, while showing the survivors, “and then attach the other two to your nipples. Like so.”
The crowd watched, enthralled, and a little aghast.
“Then, I turn on the machine, over there,” the Doctor pointed to an activator switch on a console across the room, “and the machine reads your subconscious, looking for your ideal hero. Once it finds out who—or what—that hero is, the machine replicates it.”
A murmur of excitement rose from the crowd.
“Are you shitting us?” taterguy asked.
“Yeah,” Sky Masterson replied. “This just seems a little too far-fetched. Like a Sci-Fi original movie.”
“You mean ‘SyFy’ right?” Orrex interjected.
“Oh, yeah, SyFy original.”
“It is NOT far-fetched!” the great doctor yelled. “It will work! This is our only hope! Now, who wants to go first?”
People looked around, waiting for someone else to volunteer.
“Fine,” said TZ, “I’ll go.”
“Excellent! Have a seat and hook these wires up!”
The turtled one hooked the wires to her temples and her nippular regions. “Are you ready?” the doctor asked.
“I suppose,” replied the pharmashill. And with that, Dr. Strange turned the machine on.
<Commercial Break>
In the next room a bright light flashed. The sliding door which separated the two rooms slid open, ushering forth a shit-load of smoke. And out of the midst of the smoke walked…David Duchovny.
“WTF?” exclaimed Tommy_Carcetti. “David Duchovny is a super hero?”
“My name is Fox Mulder, actually,” said
David Duchovny Fox Mulder.
“Sweet!” yelled TZ, and she jumped up, ripped off the wires, grabbed Fox Mulder, and disappeared.
“Um…okay. So, who’s next?” Dr. Strange asked.
“I’ll go,” redqueen offered.
She settled into the chair, hooked herself in, and the doctor hit the switch again. And from the Replicator emerged Rutger Hauer. Except that it wasn’t, it was really Roy Batty from Blade Runner. “Awesome!” redqueen exclaimed. “My own replicant!”
“Wait, he’s not yours. We need him to help us defeat the Nar’waal.”
“Oh yeah, whatever,” redqueen responded. “So, what’s it like being a replicant?” she asked Batty.
“Well, it’s not that hard for me. It’s much harder for Deckard—he was totally convinced he was human.”
“What?!” redqueen exclaimed. “What are you talking about? Deckard was human.”
“Nuh-uh, he was totally a replicant,” Batty insisted.
“Shut up, bitch! He was human!”
“Okay, why don’t you two take this discussion outside?” the awesomely fashionable doctor suggested. “We’ve got some more nipples to hook up here. Who’s next?”
“I’ll go,” BeachBaby offered. “But do I really need to hook those wires to my boobs? That just seems stupid.”
“Hmmm,” said the Doctor, “I see your point. Maybe we should hook you up to
your superhero-generating machine, then. Oh wait, you don’t have one. Pity. Perhaps your nipples will create a superhero who will bend time and give us back the thirty seconds you just wasted critiquing my machine’s design.”
“If my superhero can bend time, then wouldn’t it make more sense to go back to before the invasion and try to do something to stop it?”
“STFU and get on the machine!”
Once BeachBaby was hooked up, the machine went to work and out of the replicator rolled a couple dozen fuzzy ball things.
“What the hell is this crap?” the confused Doctor asked.
“Aw, they’re Tribbles!” BeachBaby picked some up and snuggled them.
“Seriously? My machine searches your mind for a hero, and this is what it finds?”
“Oh come on, they’re cute!”
“How are we supposed to defeat an advanced alien race with a bunch ‘cute’ hair balls? Jeez!”
flvegan offered to go next. “So these wires go on my chest?” he asked.
The brilliant one leaned over and whispered, “Naw, it’s cool, those wires don’t actually do anything. Don’t worry about it.”
After a few seconds, from the Replicator emerged a blonde with a big-ass sword.
“Sweet! It’s the chick from Heavy Metal!” flvegan ejaculated.
“My name is Taarna,” the skimpily-attired warrior replied.
“Yes it is. Right this way,” flvegan offered. And the two disappeared.
“Freak,” the Doctor said. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll go,” Ikonoklast offered. He was hooked up, and seconds later, a middle-aged man walked out of the replicator.
“Who are you?” Ikonoklast asked.
“Hello, my name is Lazarus Long.”
“Seriously?” Ikonoklast exclaimed. “Sweet! You’re my favorite mother-fucker!”
Just then flvegan and Taarna walked back in.
“Wow,” the sweetly awesome Dr. Strange said, “that was fast.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” the veganated one said, sulkily.
“Does someone need some Viagra?” asked the awesomely sweet Doctor.
“NO!”
“Heh, okay.” The Doctor looked at Taarna questioningly.
“He’s a little upset,” the hot blonde warrior said. “He assumed that he would be the only one with a penis.”
The Doctor’s eyebrows shot way the hell up. “Oh!”
“Your machine is fucked up!” the irritated Megan shot.
“Hey!” the Doctor shot back. “Don’t diss my machine for your fucked-up subconscious!”
“I wonder if any of my tribbles have a penis,” BeachBaby asked.
“What?” the smart Doctor sputtered. “Stop talking about penises!”
Orrex stepped up, offering to go next, in a bid to stop the escalating violence and phallic-talk. He sat in the chair, and then out of the Replicator stepped a little red-haired boy.
“Huh,” said Orrex. “It’s Bill Mumy.”
“The kid who played Opey Taylor? That’s your idea of a hero?” the Doctor asked.
“Um, no, he played Will Robinson.”
“Oh. Yeah, well, that’s much better,” the Doctor replied sarcastically.
Fire Walk With Me went next, resulting in Professor John Frink emerging from the Replicator. The animated professor looked at the Replicator and said, “This machine would be more efficient if you added a fluctuating solenoid on the polarizer, mm-hai.”
“Yeah, thanks,” the Doctor replied, and then muttered, “geek.”
“I’ll go next,” madinmaryland offered.
After being hooked up, a large metal man stepped out of the Replicator. It looked remarkably similar to a movie character from the 90s, but there was a star on the robot’s head.
“What the hell is that?” RainDog asked.
“YES!” screamed madinmaryland.
“Oh no,” the Doctor said, “you’ve
got to be kidding me. ROMOCOP?”
“Part man, part machine. All quarterback!” madinmaryland said.
“FML,” everyone else said in unison.
Forkboy stepped up next. After the machine read his (dark) subconscious, it started replicating. Alarms went off.
“Oh, shit!” said the Doctor, “I don’t know what this thing is, but it’s huge!”
“That’s what she said!” flvegan yelled from the background.
“I know what it is,” said Forkboy.
“Well, if we don’t want the replicator to break, we’re going to have to redirect the replicating beam and focus it outside somewhere where there’s more room.” The intelligent Doctor did some serious thinking, trying to determine what needed to be done to the machine. He needed a wire of some sort. “I need a bra!” the Doctor announced.
“Heh,” madinmaryland hehhed. “Is there something you’re trying to tell us?”
“Yes, I’m trying to tell you that I need a bra. I figured using the words ‘I need a bra’ would accurately convey that fact, but perhaps I overestimated your comprehension skills.”
Someone quickly offered their bra. (Really quickly. A little too quickly.) The Doctor stripped out the underwire of the bra with the expertise of someone who REALLY knows their way around that particular article of clothing. Using the wire, he was able to adjust the machine and redirect the beam to a nearby field. And in the field appeared Godzilla. And Forkboy rejoiced, ‘cause he loves the Godzilla.
Once everyone’s head cleared, Debi offered to go next. And after her subconscious was read, from the Replicator stepped Edward from the fucking Twilight series.
“Aw shit, it’s Edward,” Tommy_Carcetti said.
“From the fucking Twilight series?” the cool Doctor asked.
“YES!” Debi screamed. She grabbed the sparkly one and ran off.
“Say,” LostinVA/lostinmidlothian wondered, “any chance there might be an Alice Cullen available?”
“Would you people stop using my replicator as a den of iniquity?” the furious Doctor shouted.
TZ returned to the lab, looking sad.
“What’s going on?” BeachBaby asked. “Where’s Mulder?”
“Um, he’s dead.”
“Oh no! What happened?”
“He died, um, from exhaustion.”
“Dayum!” the Doctor exclaimed. “You people need to calm down with your creations here!”
Act II The BattleLots of special effects go in here—big budget stuff.
The forces of Good battle with the Nar’waal. But it doesn’t go well.
Godzilla accidentally swallowed the Tribbles, and when he coughed them up, he let loose with a ball of fire that burned Superman. Lazarus Long gets killed. Romocop fumbles the snap and misses an extra point. And then he gets tackled and killed. Edward does a bunch of sparkly stuff. But then he gets killed. Roy Batty gets all pouty after pondering the point of existence. And then gets killed.
It was a classic failblog entry.
Act III The AftermathThe Nar’waal surround the last remnants of humanity, along with Taarna and the useless Will Robinson.
“Are you prepared to surrender?” the horned Nar’waal captain asked.
“I guess we have no choice,” the humans decided.
“Excellent!” the captain said.
“Wait, time out!” one of the red-shirts said. “Let’s huddle up guys.”
The captain shot the red-shirted DUer. “No time outs!”
“That was mean,” said Will Robinson.
“Yes,” the captain admitted. “I know. I’m good at being mean.”
“You’re bad. You’re a very bad Nar’waal.”
“Yes, we’re bad. We’re the Nar’waal. That’s what we do.”
“You Nar’waal are mean and evil!”
“Stop spouting tautologies, boy!” the captain ordered.
“You’re mean,” Will said, pointing at the captain. “You need to leave.”
And all of a sudden, all of the Nar’waal ships disappeared, along with all of the Nar’waal troops. Except for the captain. He was still there. Well, his head was there. His body wasn’t. Instead of a Nar’waal body, his head was attached to a Jack-in-the-Box toy.
“Dude!” the captain shrieked. “WTF? What gives?”
“zOMG!” Orrex shouted. “This isn’t Will Robinson! This is the kid from the Twilight Zone, Anthony Fremont.”
“Good recall! I think you’re right,” the fantastic Doctor said. “Anthony, quick, wish this fucker away to the cornfield!”
And with that, the Nar’waal captain disappeared.
“Sweet!” the humans shouted. “We won!”
“That was real good what you did Anthony,” Orrex said. “And I don’t mean that ironically out of fear for my life; it was really good.”
The Doctor pulled Orrex aside and whispered, “Okay, it’s real good that we got rid of the Nar’waal, but wasn’t everyone in that Twilight Zone episode living in fear of the kid?”
“Yeah. We’ve traded one monster for another. This is a cool literary device, but a shitty situation to be in.”
Taarna, who was standing nearby, leaned over and whispered, “Allow me.” She then walked over to Anthony and sliced through him with her mighty sword.
“Damn! More violence!” Dr. Strange gasped. “But I guess that was the right move.”
~FIN~
I’ve submitted this to the SyFy network. They’ve been pretty positive about it. However, their legal department has run the numbers, and to secure the rights for all of the characters mentioned, SyFy will have to spend around forty trillion dollars. As that is somewhat out of their price range, they have declined to produce my awesome movie. But they haven’t closed the door completely.P.S. Midlo played no role in any of this. Whatsoever.