The Crock
From Crockery
TwilEIT, a crock in twenty-two parts.
Contents |
[edit] Act 1: Introduction
[edit] Scene 1: Meet The Frosh
[edit] Song: Tepward Bound
HC:
- I'm sitting in the 'thena Station,
- Got a ticket for authentication, ooooooo
- Looking over all night plans
- To study and shoot rubberbands,
- Taking stock of red bull cans,
- but I'm longing for that purple land!
CHORUS:
- TEEEP-ward bound,
- I wish I were,
- TEEEEP-ward bound.
- TEP, where the lightshow's playing
- TEP where the net is swaying
- TEP where my laptop's waiting
- silently foooor me
HC:
- Every night's an endless stream
- Of YouTube flicks and LOLCAT memes, mmm
- I should be studying for tests, or working on my problem sets,
- But the cluster lights my mind besets with images of--FUCK--Tourettes
CHORUS:
- TEEEP-ward bound,
- I wish I were,
- TEEEEP-ward bound.
- TEP, where my music's playing
DAN:
- TEP where my cousin's... staying
CHORUS:
- TEP the kiddy pool's waiting
- tepidly foooor you
HC:
- Athena Linux is quite a deal, but Ubuntu has much more appeal, mmmmm
- And blanketed in wireless, the campus intranet is bliss
- But damn the thing I really miss, is checking my email with Lisp
CHORUS:
- TEEEP-ward bound,
- I wish I were,
- TEEEEP-ward bound.
- TEP, where the lightshow's playing
- TEP where the net is swaying
- TEP where my laptop's sleeping
- silently for meeee
HC:
- 8.02, 18.03 are giving my brain sodomy, mmmmm
- Stay up all night, turn in this sheet, to stave off cognitive defeat
- And shuffle barely on my feet, back home where I can finally sleep.
CHORUS:
- TEEEP-ward bound,
- I wish I were,
- TEEEEP-ward bound.
- TEP, where the lightshow's playing
- TEP where the net is swaying
- TEP where my laptop's sleeping
- silently for meeee
- silently foooor me.
[Scene: the front room. Enter the TEPS, getting ready for Rush.]
HM: Hey, as a project for my archeological accounting class I've just balanced the books all the way back to 1972, and discovered that we actually have enough money for Rush this year.
DumbTep: I guess that means I can cancel my spam campaign to trick Nigerian millionaires into giving me their bank account information.
RC: Speaking of spam, I hear President Crockfield is going to be giving her address in a few minutes.
DumbTep: What, did she move?
[WTFTube starts playing]
Crockfield: Good evening to all members of the MIT community. We begin the fall semester knowing that challenging work and hard decisions lie ahead, as we determine how to strengthen our education and research mission with diminished resources.
DumbTep: Whaddid she say?
All: We get to work more for less.
Crockfield: Tonight I am here to talk about change, as in, can you spare some? Given the gross budget deficits created during the years of financial mismanagement under my [cough] predecessor, we must pursue a program of modest revenue enhancements here at the Institvte. All faculty and staff will be expected to take a 10 day furlough from December 1st to December 14th, during which you will not be paid, but we expect you will probably work anyway, because of your megalomaniac egos.
Crockfield: Moving on to the rest of the MIT community, our student bodies... Apparently the amount that Undergraduates pay in tuition barely covers their skyrocketing healthcare costs. To address this, we have decided to out-source our health-care needs to a health-care solution provider, Sangui-Corp, which has gallantly offered to provide free health-care to all undergraduates.
DUMBTEP: Wow, that's great! What nice people!
Crockfield: As part of this plan, all freshmen will be enrolled in an exciting new UROP developed by representatives of Sangui-Corp: Undergraduate Medical Research Opportunities Program. Participants will be exposed to the very needle's edge of Medical experiments. Er Science, medical science.
HM: Umm... gee, that doesn't sound at all ominous.
Crockfield: All graduate students and postdocs should report to their assigned location for their new Temporary Financial Adjustment Medical Research Assistantships and Associateships. Graduate students report to the Ernest V. Gulag building, formerly known as Building 36. Post-docs report to the Meyer F. Stalag building, previously known as E22.
Chancellor: Jeeze, that is even worse...
Crockfield: Also, all students, please report to MIT Medical for your... Bat flu vaccine. Yes, the H3M3 virus is very dangerous and we want to protect everyone. Get your shots. Do it now.
HM: Is she even trying any more?
RC: The Freshmen are coming!
HM: They aren't even breathing hard!
RC: No, I mean, I see them right now coming up our front steps. They're here.
[edit] Song: Welcome To TEP
ALL:
- Welcome to TEP where we like to schlep Grape Soder
- Welcome to TEP it's frosty and wet and it's caffeine-free!
RC:
- What's your name?
CH:
- Where you from?
HM:
- What'd ya like to be?
ALL:
- Welcome to TEP where the floors are swept BiMonthly
- Welcome to TEP where the Crock's ineptly rhymed.
CH: Hey there! I'm Shotput Palin, Chancellor of Tee-Eee-Phi. Have a Grape Soder!
F2: Thanks, I'm Pinky Ringtone from Mountain View, California.
RC: And I'm Shinji Ikari, the Rush Chair of TEP. Have some Purple TANG!
FRED: Heya guys, nice to meet you! I'm Fred Cullen...
[ALL FREEZE FOR CUE CARD MAN]
CUE CARD: A CHARACTER FROM TWILIGHT.
[ALL UNFREEZE WHEN CUE CARD LEAVES]
FRED: ... from Process Fork, Washington.
DT: And I'm Indy, generic dumb TEP!
FRED: This is my other new friend, Mordica!
[He gestures to a hot goth babe hanging around him, looking rather predatory and creepy.]
FRED: She is an, uh...
MORDICA: Artist.
FRED: Yes, an artist I met over by MIT Medical.
RC: An artist... what's your medium, Mordica?
MORDICA: Type O negative.
RC: How avant garde. What brings you to this side of the river?
MORDICA: I can never resist the scent of a universal donor.
DUMBTEP: But I just met her...
[Knock at the door.]
RC: Oh! Here come those IFC inspectors. Let's take them downstairs and show them the fridge; hopefully those green peas haven't fermented again.
[TEPS go offstage to the front door, leaving FRED and MORDICA.]
[FRED lays across MORDICA's lap, looking up into her eyes.]
FRED: Oh, Mordica, you have the most beautiful eyes. I just want to lay here forever. [Nods off to sleep.]
MORDICA: [With an evil smile to the audience.] Morsus ut gutter! [Bites FRED, throwing (closed) ketchup packets into the audience as if they are squirting from the neck.]
FRED: [Orgasmic moan.] Ach! I am bitten!
[From Offstage]
HM: Wow, it sounds like the Freshman really are coming!
[MORDICA EXITS as TEPS walk back in to see FRED on the floor]
DUMBTEP: Froshling down! Froshling down!
HM: Fred! What happened?
FRED: I... don't remember anything...
RC: We've got to get him to MIT Medical, stat!
[Exeunt.]
[edit] Scene 2: Differential and Integral Diagnosis
[Scene: MIT Medical. Enter DOKTOR GREGOR HAUS, dramatically, with cane, aviator glasses, etc. along with 22, in a heated discussion.]
22: [reading admission paperwork] We have a new case. A frosh collapsed at a rush event. It initially looked like just another case of dehydration from drinking too much grape soder, but he's not responding to the usual treatment of pregnancy tests and ritalin, so they sent him to us.
HAUS: So our symptoms are clammy palms, eye of newt, thermo-rectal fusion and an outfit that screams "my breasts are swollen and need attention."
22: Haus, wearing purple is not me "coming on" to you, or anyone else. Can't I just like the color!?!
HAUS: 22, it's been well established that color choices are derived from deeply rooted desires. People who wear green like money, people who like yellow like power, and people who wear purple like sex.
[Enter TEPS and FROSH.]
HAUS: In your case, I'd say it's because your parents didn't love you enough when you were the little piggie I know you were.
RC: Uh, hello, doctor-people?
F2: We were told to come up here and see Doctor, uh, Ha-oos?
22: This is absurd, I loved my parents and they loved me. Just because I'm bisexual now... [Cut off by Haus.]
HAUS: Herr Doktor-Professor Gregor Hau\"s, at your service! The umlaut on the S makes me heavy metal. And this is my glamorous assistant, Doctor Twenty-Two.
22: Why does everything have to be about you Haus? My personal life is none of your business and I'll thank you kindly to stay out of it!
RC: Huh... you look familiar. Fred, isn't this your girlfriend?
22: [Ignoring RC pointedly and looking annoyed.] Which one of you is the sick freshman?
HAUS: [points with cane to CH] Judging from the way this one is clenching and the smell of General Gauss's chicken on his breath, I'd say his intestines are about ten minutes away from a seismic event of epic proportions. And you! [points to HM] The way your left eye is ogling my assistant tells me your optic chiasm has been destroyed by Stage IV Raging Hormonal Imbalance. [To DR. 22] Can we go home now?
FRED: It's me, Doktor Haus.
HAUS: You're probably just another kid who can't hold his Code Purple Mountain Dew. All right, son, show me on the doll where the teacher Twittered your MySpace, or whatever you Millennials are calling it these days.
22: Haus! His hands are ice-cold.
HAUS: Get too excited by the liquid-nitrogen ice cream?
[HAUS and 22 begin examining FRED with an improbable set of diagnostic tools: LED keychains, iPods, etc.]
22: Decreased circulation in the extremities could indicate a vascular problem.
HAUS: Circulation that low and he wouldn't be here wasting my TV time.
22: What about a lesion on his hypothalamus, impairing his thermoregulation abilities?
HAUS: Schedule him for an MRI, then break into his dorm room and see what drugs he's on.
FRED: [Somewhat dazed.] What? Break into my what?
HAUS: YOUR PORN ROOM, WE NEED TO SEE YOUR PORN ROOM.
22: Haus, leave him alone, he's scared.
HAUS: Not as scared as he should be. And why do you care? Does it remind you of your days as a little piggie? Scared and alone in your room, hoping for a prince to come and rescue you?
22: [Sigh.] The MRI is booked all day with the victims of Sadoway's last 3.091 lecture.
RC: I always knew that nylon synthesis was a risky business.
CH: Ah, the memories!
HAUS: Well, call the course 8 people and have them bring over their Junior Lab equipment. I'm sure it'll work.
[DR. 22 begins sending a text message from her jPhone.]
FRED: Uh, excuse me, doctors? Is it normal to be, uh, hearing WiFi signals?
HAUS: Not. . . exactly. [Takes out his jPhone.] Tell me: what am I writing to Dr. 22 right now?
FRED: That. . . you want to do something unspeakable with soy sauce and wasabi?
HAUS: Lucky guess. [To. DR. 22] New symptom: the ability to interpret Not-Safe-For-Work text messages.
22: That's an. . . incredibly nerdy superpower.
RC: Maybe he got bit by a radioactive spider?
HM: With a 5.0 GPA?
HAUS: Not unless he's suffering from superintelligent tissue necrosis under that tacky T-shirt.
F2: Wait! The mass spectrometry app on my jPhone is reading trace amounts of plutonium, tantalum, xenon, promethium, dialium, mercury and an unknown transuranic element.
HAUS: Have you been licking green kryptonite?
FRED: The tube was glowing. I thought it was candy.
RC: Those were quantum dots, not Dippin Dots!
HAUS: [prods FRED with jPhone] Well, unbihexium poisoning might explain the hypothalamic dysfunction, but not your ability to stream Aqua's "Lollipop" from Pandora.
22: It could be. . . lycanthropy?
HAUS: It's not lycanthropy! It's never lycanthropy. His blood screens?
22: A touch anemic. Traces of methyltheobromine and a racemic mix of various salts of alpha-methyl-phenethylamine... but that's normal with MIT freshmen.
[HAUS aburptly turns, pulls Tupperware container from the trash, and opens it in FRED's face.]
[FRED starts chocking and gagging uncontrollably]
22: Haus! What the hell did you —
HAUS: — Wilson's lunch. [starts eating it] New symptom. Extreme sensitivity to 2-propene 1-sulfinothioic acid.
[HAUS shines an EPROM eraser in patient's face.]
FRED: Augh! Ohgodohgod my eyes!
22: Haus! His skin, it's turning red! [beat] is that an EPROM eraser?
TEPS: Maybe he has albinism?
HAUS: What are you, Harvard students? His hair is (whatever color it is), he has a tan, and he can see perfectly fine!
FRED: No I can't!
HAUS: Correction, he used to be able to see fine, before I blinded him. So... his skin burns on contact with long-wave UV, he is extremely sensitive to garlic, he's anemic, and has chronic hypothermia. Can you integrate that differential diagnosis?
22: Oh no...
HAUS: Mr Lugosi here can have a long and successful career as a HASS-C administrator. That is, if he can avoid sunlight, garlic, and stakes through the heart.
FRED: You mean... I'm.. a... a vampire????
F2: But... we crossed the Charles — moving water — to come here!
RC: Actually, according to the most recent EPA report, Charles River, ehm, liquid... no longer classifies as "water".
HM: [aside] And it doesn't really "flow" either...
HAUS: I'm writing a prescription for Vicodin and green M&Ms.
FRED: Is that the cure for vampirism?
HAUS: No, it's how I face my life every day. [Hands prescription to DR. 22] Be a dear and get this filled for me, would you? [To FRED] The treatment for vampirism is only in the experimental stage. It is painful and humiliating. You'd be a guinea pig, quite possibly sacrificing your life — or, rather, your un-death — for the cause of science. Frankly, my nipples are hard just thinking about it.
FRED: What are you going to do to me?
HAUS: Well, in layman's language, we're going to use an artificial retrovirus to alter the regulatory sequences in your DNA to shift your genomic interaction network into a new attractor state.
RC: You're infecting him with an artificial virus? Heavy fines involved!
22: Don't worry, he is a professional. . . infection-spreader.
HAUS: And in the best PBS tradition, there's even a song about it.
[edit] Song: New DNA
[Sting. Synth sounds.]
HAUS: Aiow!
[4x riff]
22:
- We need to have you sit still
- Then we poke in / for a T-cell
- And then we send you back home
- While we sequence / all your genome
- You beat off to Miley Cyrus
- While we build a / retrovirus
- Work on growing some real face hairs
- Then we splice in / your new base pairs
ALL:
- Freddie you'll be OK
- Yeah Freddie you'll be OK
- You'll be OK Freddie!
- Freddie with your new gene
- Yeah with your shiny new gene
- You'll be OK Freddie!
- Spell it with an A—T—
- Yeah spell it with an A—T—
- With an A—T—G—C!
- And about your co-pay
- Yeah, and about your co-pay—
- You'll be OK Freddie!
ALL:
- We need to have you sit still
- Then we poke in / for a T-cell, Freddie
- And then we send you back home
- While we sequence / all your genome
- You beat off to Miley Cyrus
- While we build a / retrovirus
- Work on growing some real face hairs
- Then we splice in / your new base pairs
ALL:
- Freddie you'll be OK
- Yeah Freddie you'll be OK
- You'll be OK Freddie!
- Freddy with your new gene
- Yeah with your shiny new gene
- You'll be OK Freddie!
- Spell it with an A—T—
- Yeah spell it with an A—T—
- With an A—T—G—C!
22:
- You'll be shot full—
- You'll be shot full—
- Of New DNA!
[edit] Act 2: Prolongation
[edit] Scene 3: And the Panel of Death!
Ein frosh is diagnosed with vampirism, which is unfortunately not covered by his insurance plan. He is taken to the MIT Death Panel to determine his fate...
[DEATH PANEL enters]
HEAD JUDGE: Well, it looks like we have just one case left before us today, fellow death panelists, a freshman infected with vampirism.
ASST JUDGE 1: That's the twenty-second case of vampirism to come before us today! As much as I love euthenizing the usual mix of grandmas, grandpas, and puppies that comes before us, this gavel hitting is getting awfully tiring... [Wields PELDGE-O-MATIC] and my wrist is getting tired from signing all these copies of Form 27B-6!
ASST JUDGE 2: That's what she said...
HEAD JUDGE: SILENCE! The petitioners approach.
[FRED CULLEN enters with RUSH CHAIR and DUMB TEP]
HEAD JUDGE: Fred Cullen, it says here in your medical record that you have vampirism, and wish to receive treatment.
FRED: That's right.
HEAD JUDGE: You are aware that, as a pre-existing condition, vampirism can't be covered by your insurance plan.
FRED: But I just got vampirism this morning!
ASST JUDGE 1: SILENCE! As you well know, vampirism is a condition of undeath.
ASST JUDGE 2: SILENCE! Indeed, you have had it since you were unborn.
HEAD JUDGE: SILENCE! And obviously, if you've had it since you were unborn, you have had it for the entirety of your unlife.
RC: Stop saying silence! That's ridiculous! He wants to be cured of the vampir... [cut off]
HEAD JUDGE: SILENCE! I will hear no more of this nonsense. Not only is vampirism not covered by your insurance, but...
ASST JUDGE 1: SILENCE! ... as this is a Death Panel, not an Undeath Panel, I'm afraid we can only deal with treatment of un-undead individuals.
ASST JUDGE 2: SILENCE! Thanks for visiting, hope it all works out.
HEAD JUDGE: SILENCE! Agreed, have a great semester!
[DEATH PANEL leaves]
RC: Well piddlesticks, what are we going to do now?
FRED: I just don't know what to do! [Begins to cry] Oh, woe is me, never to feel the luscious caress of a ladies [All tEps begin to stare and drool.] ... lips...
DT: Tell the part about the luscious lips again? [Frosh cowers, Rush Chair thwaps Dumb TEP]
RC: This is serious, did you hear them before we went in? MIT has already suffered 22 cases of vampirism today! It's almost as if someone was trying to spread vampirism to the student body...
FRED: But who would do something like that? It's like something out of a bad science fiction novel!
RC: I don't know, but we're going to find out.
DT: Where are we going to go?
RC: The birthplace of all bad science fiction — the Church of Scientology!
[Exuant stage eit.]
[edit] Scene 4: Diabolical Plot Revealed
[Enter HAUS and DOCTOR 22]
HAUS: Well, that went splendidly, don't you think?
22: Indeed, Herr Döktor Hau\:s, I don't think those TEPs suspected a thing. By the time they figure out what we're up to, our plan will have come to fruition! [Did someone say...]
22: They will never suspect that I am, in fact, the Dean of Student Un-life, Merriam B. Crocksford!
[Dramatic chord on synth?]
HAUS: I don't trust them... everyone lies, and if they know that we know that everyone lies, then they know that we're lying, about them lying, about us lying. [Pop Vicodin] [Without prompting:] God sucks. [Pause, then take another Vicodin.]
22: [Stare] Sometimes, Herr Döktor, I wonder about you...
HAUS: From the flush in your bosom, I can tell that when you say that, you're really thinking about my ass.
22: Where the hell do you get that from?
HAUS: I was just reading this fascinating book by Steven Pinker which says it's your evolutionary imperative to mate with the alpha male, which I obviously am. [Pause] You know, there's an empty Athena cluster down the hall if you'd like to work with me for a while, if you know what I mean.
22: Actually, this is really a bad time...
HAUS: Oh that's no problem. I'm a doctor, I'm in tune with the rhythms of a woman.
22: [Stare] Anyway... back to the exposition if you don't mind.
HAUS: By all means. [Hovers around, being a general nuisance, obviously looking for attention.]
22: [Sigh] Yes, I, Dean Crocksford, Dean of Student Un-life, plan to infect all of MIT with vampirism! Why, you might ask?
HAUS: Why would I ask, I helped you come up with the plan.
22: Do you not understand what the exposition is?
HAUS: Do you not understand what your face! [quieter] No.
22: The exposition is when we tell the audience what our evil plan is so that the plot makes sense!
HAUS: Ah, so this is what passes for a plot nowadays!
22: Look, it was either this, or an entire crock about sexual tension.
HAUS: And neither of us know anything about sexual tension, [Vicodin] having never experienced it.
22: If you think we're experiencing sexual tension now, you need to have your prescription adjusted.
HAUS: [Pops Vicodin]
22: [Evil Laugh] Muhahahahahaha!!! By infecting all of the undergrads with vampirism, we will make them thirst for blood every time they try to kiss a member of the opposite and/or the same sex. They will no longer be able to have girlfriends or boyfriends ever again! Combined with our plan to replace all of the lights in the dorms with blacklight bulbs (which met with surprising levels of approval), it's the perfect way to guarantee that our little Millennials are studying hard and attending class!
HAUS: You have amazing tits.
22: Hau\:s, shut up. [pause] What's that sound?
HAUS: They're playing our song!
22: No, look! The student body is already being transformed!
[edit] Song: This Is MIT, NOT SPARTA!
ALL:
- Girls and boys who can't make friends,
- This is the place where your loneliness ends.
- Caltech would've been ecstasy,
- But we'll settle for MIT!
ALL:
- That was M-I-T, that was M-I-T —
- Hackers prowled on the roof each night.
ALL:
- That was M-I-T, pop a beer cap on your ring —
- Crank the bass till the neighbors file a noise complaint.
- O-M-G, IHTFP —
- At our school of M-I-T. . . .
BLAKE:
- I'm the Professor with a Nobel Prize —
- Didn't win for teaching, as you might surmise.
ELMO & SLOAN:
- We are the chemists in the basement lab,
- Expanding your mind at the drop of a tab.
ALL:
- That was M-I-T, where is M-I-T
- MIT! MIT! MIT! MIT!
ALL:
- No more freaks call it home;
- Millennials getting laid atop the Dome.
ALL:
- In this school, don't we love it now?
- Everybody's watching their esteem decay.
- Wells'ley women? No dating! Better off just masturbating.
- 'Round comes a Friday, makes you say: L-S-C. . .
ALL:
- Sucks! This is M-I-T.
- Red 'n' grey, and seldom green.
ALL:
- Tool all night
- And up by nine!
- Stata Center, Simmons Hall,
- Freshmen snorting Adderall —
- Friday night tool under phosphor light.
ALL:
- Cream of the cream, cream of the cream!
- At our school of M-I-T...
KATE:
- I am the girl who shot you down last week.
- I'll date a jerk cause he's not so meek!
SMARK:
- I'm the TA from 8.02.
- Got a bad grade? You know what to do. . .
DAVID BROWN & SNELLA:
- I am the cluster on a sleepless night,
- Draining your blood to Hockfield's delight!
ALL:
- This is M-I-T, this is M-I-T
- MIT! MIT! MIT! MIT!
- MIT! MIT!
ALL:
- We're your friends and what do we speak?
- "Life's no fun when you're still unique!"
- We'll teach you con-form-i-ty,
- At our school of M-I-T.
ALL:
- At this school, don't we love it now,
- Everybody's watching their esteem de-cay.
ALL:
- Campus Police might nab you from a hack and
- Feed you to a HASS-D
- And then feast—up—on—your—soul!
- This is MIT, everybody bleed!
ALL:
- You can do or die but you'll never question why!
ALL:
- Oh, farewell to our Dean Merilee
- Everyone bow to the Portly Queen!
ALL:
- This is M-I-T, this is M-I-T
- MIT! MIT! MIT! MIT!
ALL:
- Join with us, sing our song —
- Everybody melt in the faceless mob!
ALL:
- La la la — la la la la la, MIT! MIT!
[edit] Scene 5: Scientologists
Desperate to cure his vampirism so that he can be with beautiful ladies, frosh goes to Scientologists in an attempt to find a cure.
[Enter the TEPS.]
RC: Back in the back-back-back-Bay. There it is, the Church of Scientology!
FRED: These people know how to cure my vampirism?
HM: I'm sure they can make being a vampire the least of your problems.
F2: Do we just knock?
CH: Olly-olly-thetan-free!
DON: [offstage] Clears only! And pursuant to Church of Scientology regulation 22.3.22 snowball fights are strictly against policy.
RC: Please let us in! We need your help to cure our friend.
DON: That's great! Our free personality test is now a Facebook app!
FRED: No, it's not that! I've been turned into a vampire!
DON: Oh wow... That sounds like terrible science-fiction. [pause] I'll be right out.
[Enter DON MISCARRIAGE.]
DON: Hi there. I'm Don Miscarriage, Grand Auditor of the Back Bay B-Org.
DT: Is that the one full of telephone sanitizers?
DON: So... who's the vampire?
FRED: It's me, Mr. Miscarriage.
DON: Hmmm... Oh wow. It seems your body-thetans are blocked in your twenty-second chakra grease trap. But don't worry, kid. I'm trained and a professional and I have the right tool. Well, why don't we roto that out with this baby here.
[DON MISCARRIAGE produces a MULTIMETER wired to a couple GRAPE SODER CANS.]
DON: This here is your basic OT-22 E-Meter package. Good for ghost hunting, body-thetan clearing and finding studs behind your drywall.
DT: We have studs behind our drywall? That oughta make dating easier!
DON: OK, kid, just grab right onto those cans.
F2: That's what she said!
DON: All right, kid, I'm gonna ask you a series of important questions. With the E-meter I can gauge your responses and find the thetan blockage. Is that clear?
FRED: Uh, OK.
DON: Question numero uno. Do you ever look up words in the dictionary to see exactly what they mean?
FRED: I try, but I don't know how to spell them!
DON: Question numero two. Do you have any strong feelings about volcanoes?
FRED: Well, the girl I asked to prom jumped into one. She said she had to save our village from the lava gods.
RC: Ohhhhh! Yours too?
DON: Question number tres. Have you ever been banned from editing Wikipedia?
FRED: Only because those fascist admins don't think our cartoon theme-song cover band is notable.
DON: Whoo. Oh wow. Last question. Do you think that an alien overlord packing billions of souls into spaceships which look exactly like DC-8s without propellers sounds completely f-in' insane, slightly insane, or perfectly sensible?
FRED: Dude! The Douglas DC-8 used Pratt & Whitney axial-flow turbojet engines, not propellers!
DON: Oh wow.. The bad news is, your friend here definitely has an inflamed chi nexus with a plug of impacted ectoplasm. The good news is, we're having a special this week. We can advance him to Clear for just $222,000, payable by check or money order. Or we could set you up with our basic indentured-servitude payment plan.
FRED: Well, if that's —
CH: The Hell!? $222,000?
DON: Hey, you guys are swell kids, so I can give you our low, 22% monthly interest rate.
RC: Uh, thanks but no thanks.
HM: Yeah, what with the cost of tuition —
DT: Did you say tuition?
EVERYBODY ELSE: No!
CH: How do you justify charging thousands upon thousands of dollars for the "privilege" of spending years in a sleep-deprived state of psychological abuse, memorizing strange jargon and being completely excluded from human society?
F2: Hey. . . .
DON: Hey, babe, that's just the way we roll.
[edit] Song: In My Cult
ALL:
- In the Bee Cee Cee
- There everyone loves me
- I've got [pause] Heaven's Gate
- Dianetics too
- They all worship me,
- Yes they do, they do
ALL:
- I've got Battlefield Earth
- My IP lawyers are the best
- I've got [pause] Disco John
- I've got To-om Cruise
- Trying to get clear
- Yes Xe-nu, Xe-nu
ALL:
- In my cult
- I feel safe
- With a gag across my face
- In my cult
- Where I belong
- L. Ron loves me for my thong
- In my cult
- In my cult
ALL:
- Send in that ATF raid
- Holder sends FBI too
- The comet's [pause] coming soon
- We're going off to bed
- With arsenic to take
- Yes it's true, it's true
ALL:
- In my cult
- Eit! My spleen
- Hose me down with gasoline
- In my cult
- Where I belong
- L. Ron strips me of my thong
- In my cult
- In my cult
[edit] Act 3: Resolution
[edit] Scene 6: Climax!
The TEPS are out of options.
F2: What are we going to do now? The scientologists have the only cure, and they're not going to pony up without some major cash incentives!
CH: The same thing we do every night, Pinky. We surf the Internet!
FRED: [Tappity tappity...] Hmm, when I search for "vampirism" I'm finding an awful lot of sites that are...
CH: Turn back on safe search...
FRED: [Tappity] Ah, there we go. Wikipedia is the only hit left.
F2: What does it say?
FRED: Hmm, the entry on vampirism doesn't say anything about how to cure it... allergic to garlic... has a flashback to a bad trip upon seeing crosses... can't cross water...
RC: Interesting, apparently River Tam is supposed to be modeled on a vampire. I guess that's why she's always wearing such drab clothing.
FRED: I don't see anything about it...
RC: Hey, did you know that River Tam drinks Grape Soder in issue 22 of the Firefly comic book?
HM: No, and now I'll never get those brain cells back.
CH: Stand aside n00b, I'll put my wikipedia editor skills to use! Aha! If you click here and look at the page history, you can see that someone from the 18. subnet recently deleted a reference to a vaccine! I'll revert the changes.
DUMB TEP: And I'll unrevert the changes!
CH: Hey! I'm reverting them again.
DUMB TEP: But they aren't properly referenced!
CH: Fuck you!
DUMB TEP: No! Fuck you!
F2: Hey! Fuck both of you! Let's get the vaccine and get out of here!
HM: Fuck you! You can't talk to him like that!
[DUMB TEP and CH struggle for keyboard, before F2 wrestles it away.]
F2: There. Hmm... apparently the vaccine simply requires one to mix a few common household ingredients, and then say the magic incantation.
FRED: Magic Incantation?
F2: Hmm, I see. One part gin, two parts tonic water, and a splash of lime juice. [Mixes G&T] I knew this prevented malaria, but I had no idea it was good for vampirism too! Alright, what's that incantation now?
HM: Oh! Let me guess... is it "super-hyper-open-apple-meta-exclamation"?
CH: [Thwaps HM] No, stupid. That's the emacs mode for lycanthropy. Verily, to valorously vitiate this virus and vanquish the verminous villains who seek to vacate our vicarious joie de vivre, we must verbally invoke —[DT Interrupts]
DUMB TEP: Six!
CH: VI! Incants: colon period comma dollarsign s forwardslash vampire forwardslash human forwardslash g i return!
F2: And now, to prevent further changes... Incants: colon exclamation chmod seven five five!
[Bubbling Sound Effect?]
FRED: Yes! It worked! Now we can stop this nefarious plot!
RC: Yes! Even if we can't save Fred here from the ranks of the undead, we can prevent that fate from befalling the rest of the Institvte!
HM: Now, to campus!
CH: To campus!
DT: L'chaim!
[Lights go off. Enter 22 and HAUS. Lights come back on.]
CH: Stop right there, you fiends!
F2: We know what you're doing, and we won't let it happen!
22: Wait, how could you possibly know our plan?
HM: We were sitting right in the front row during your exposition.
CH: How could you possibly have missed us?
22: ... Fuck.
RC: And! Just now, under cover of darkness, we secretly replaced your vampire venom injections with Folger's super-caffeinated crystals!
DT: In the words of my generation, up yours!
[quizzical expressions]
HM: Indy's been at MIT a long time. . . .
22: It doesn't matter! You're too late to stop us, my pretties! While you were busy offstage replacing our vampire venom injections, I was busy offstage mixing that same venom into the spicy sauce at the Goosebeary's food truck.
RC: Ach you can't do that! You she-devil!
22: BWA HA HA HA HA! The entire campus has already been infected! And in fact, you smell like tofu pad thai!
[DOCTOR 22 takes an EPROM eraser and shines it on the nearest TEP, who yelps that his skin is burning.]
22: It's the first day of the rest of your un-death! Now you'll work and work and never play, all the night away!
["Dancing Queen" by ABBA starts playing.]
HAUS: Oh, that's me.
[Fade to black. Spotlight on HAUS.]
HAUS: [texting] Dear Wilson, can't talk now, just convinced all of MIT that vampires can't have sex. Totally pwned those noobs. You owe me two tickets to Bigfoot vs. Crushinator this Sunday, Sunday, Sunday.
[Spotlight off, regular lights back on.]
22: As I was saying, BWA HA HA HA HA!
FRED: Wait a minute! The electro-telepathy powers
[CUE CARD: Cunningly foreshadowed in a previous scene.]
FRED: which I got from being a mutant —
F2: Vampire.
FRED: Whatever. I just overheard him texting. He said we're all noobs for thinking vampires can't have sex.
HAUS: You accuse me of having a low opinion of people? I'm shocked, shocked!
FRED: Who's "Wilson", and why does he owe you monster truck tickets?
HAUS: You're on a need-to-know basis, and you don't need to know!
22: You turned MIT into vampires to win a bet with Wilson?
HAUS: Hey, monster trucks are serious business. Oh, I'll take that off your hands. [Takes G&T from TEPS, washes down a Vicodin or two.]
22: I can't believe it! You manipulated me!
HAUS: I know. Usually I have to pay a woman to let me do that.
CH: You mean vampire boys can have girlfriends after all?
HAUS: They'll love you for the sparkle in your eye.
F2: And, God willing, nowhere else.
22: All right, this plan to get MIT students to behave may have failed, but don't think I'm giving up. Just you wait. My next scheme will use. . . goddamn werewolves or something!
HAUS: If you'd like to drown your sorrows, I have a metric bar-load of Scotch at home.
22: Shut up.
[edit] Scene 7: Happy Ending
[TEPS enter]
FRED: So now we're all vampires, and there's nothing we can do about it?
HM: Well, it's not all bad... being vampires instantly makes us sexier...
RC: And it's not like we see the day star anyway.
CH: Even better, now we all have super-human strength, so we can beat up all the jocks from Harvard.
F2: Yeah, I guess it's not that bad... although I do have this uncontrollable urge to surf the Web every time I pass a WiFi access point.
FRED: And I'll have to live with the compulsion to drink blood! No girl will ever want to date me!
HAUS: [from edge of stage] Let me introduce you to a little thing we specialists like to call "Craigslist".
CH: So, I guess everything more or less averages out in the end.
RC: It's like the Central Limit Theorem for MIT.
HM: Maybe we can parley our story into a media franchise empire!
DT: Are you kidding? Nobody would be interested in reading or seeing a movie about angsty vampires who go to school for decades on end.
F2: Yeah, we'd never make enough money to pay our tuition.
EVERYBODY ELSE: Isn't there a song about that?
[edit] Song: Tuition
ELMO (TEP):
- When I was young I peddled for a UROP
- Tried to get work study, whored upon the Fenway
- Try as I might I can't earn quite enough
- To satisfy the Institvte
ALL:
- The students, the students. . . Tuition!
- The students, the students. . . Tuition!
SLOAN (BURSAR):
- You must learn to live on less and pay your bill
- And steel your will to eat roadkill
- Otherwise your credit we will surely kill
- With penalties and threats of broken bones
ALL:
- The bursar, the bursar. . . Tuition!
- The bursar, the bursar. . . Tuition!
SMARK & KATE (PARENTS):
- Dear son we got your bill today
- But we're a little short
- We'd have to sell the summer home
- And you're [pause pause] not worth it
ALL:
- The parents, the parents. . . Tuition!
- The parents, the parents. . . Tuition!
ALL:
- So now I'm on the street
- Without my damn degree
- And all I have to show is
- This bill from M-I-T!
ALL:
- Tuition, tuition. . . Tuition!
- Tuition, tuition. . . Tuition!
