[Joel and the 'bots enter the theater.]


TOM: [to Joel] So, what were you doing in the transport tube room?


JOEL: I'll explain when we're done.


TOM: [dubiously] Okay.....


>The RR-Files, part five.


JOEL: The Final Confrontation.


CROW: Please, if there is a God in Heaven, let it the "Final" confrontation.


TOM: [bowing his head] Hallowed be thy name, Amen.


>By Chris Silva, John
>Pesterfield, Robert Knaus
>and Karl Schenk.


CROW: [Comic Book Guy] These are, without a doubt, the WORST Ranger fic authors EVER!


>Final editing and proofreading
>by Robert Knaus.

*****************


>It was a week after the


JOEL: Final.


>confrontation with the smoking
>man at Fat Cat's casino.
>The air this early in the morning
>had a distinct bite to it now.


CROW: Something bites, all right.


>Fall was giving way to winter
>once again. Mulder and Scully had


TOM: Enough, and left in search of a better fanfic.


CROW: Good luck.


>accompanied the Rangers to a
>secluded patch of oak trees.


JOEL: Where they were assassinated, gangland-style.


>Gadget had completed her


CROW: Soapbox racer, and the other Rangers were getting ready to give it a new coat of paint.


>Gigantico ray using the
>plans provided by the CSM,
>and the others agreed that
>they should return the two
>humans to their normal size
>before anything else could
>go wrong.


JOEL: [Mulder] Oh, now what?


>Mulder shook


TOM: And palpitated .


CROW: [John Candy] He blowed up *real* good!


>Chip's hand and received a
>friendly pat on the back by
>Monty (which nearly sent him
>sprawling flat on his face).


JOEL: [Bugs Bunny] Eh, dis kid don't know his own strength!


>"It's been surreal, you guys",
>Mulder quipped. "But I think
>that the whole Central Park
>scene should be left to the
>professionals."


TOM: You know, that reminds me. Do the Rangers get paid for their crime fighting services?


CROW: What do you mean?


TOM: Well, Bruce Wayne has billions of dollars at his fingertips. Where do the Rangers get money for their equipment?


JOEL: Careful Tom, you're starting to sound like one of those "Acorn Cafe" people.


TOM: [shuddering] Forget I said anything.


>Scully shared a hug with Gadget.


ALL: Saaaayyyyy!


>"While this whole thing has
>been just crazy," she said,


CROW: WHO said? Gadget or Scully?


JOEL: That way lies madness, Crow.


>"I'm still glad to have
>met you all."
>
>"Golly, we were glad to lend
>a hand!", Gadget replied.


ALL: [applause]


>Chip looked at the
>agents and shrugged.


TOM: I hope the cast of this fic was sent to a chiropractor after it was over.


>"Well...... no time like the
>present.", he stated.


CROW: Lot of stating in this fic.


>Scully and Mulder nodded,


JOEL: [rattling noise]


>then stood shoulder
>to shoulder.
>
>Gadget pulled her goggles
>down over her eyes.


CROW: [Gadget] I *knew* I was wearing these for a reason!


>"Shield your eyes, everybody!",
>she warned.


TOM: [Monty] Er, we kind got the idea when ye pulled yer goggles down, luv.


>The Rangers quickly
>clapped their hands


JOEL: [singing] And turned to their partners, do-se-do!


>over their eyes, as did
>the two agents.
>
>She pulled the trigger
>of the gun,


CROW: [angrily] *Who* did?!? For the love of God, *WHO*?!?


JOEL: Hey, calm down, Crow!


CROW: [beginning to sob] No! I WON'T calm down!


>and a dazzlingly bright glow
>lit up the small clearing.


TOM: [whistles the "Close Encounters" theme]


>An early morning jogger
>passing by saw the flash of
>light from the corner of his
>eye and paused, glancing at
>the grove of trees. He
>then shrugged,


JOEL: [Jerry Lewis] Oooh, my neck! It *hurts*! I think I broke a gland!


>and continued on his way,
>whistling a snatch of
>classical music from
>between his teeth.


[Joel and the 'bots start singing Beethoven's "Ode to Joy".]


----------------------


>Mulder and Scully blinked,
>the afterimage from the blast
>of light filling their vision
>with black dots.


CROW: [stoner voice] The colors, the colors!


>"Scully, you okay?"
>
>"Yeah. I-I think so."


JOEL: Clear the mantle for that
screenwriting Oscar, fellas.


>As their sight returned,
>they suddenly realized
>that they could see


CROW: Through each other's clothes.


TOM: [Joey Tribbiani] How *you* doin'?


>over the small bushes
>surrounding the clearing
>they were standing in.
>Mulder looked down and saw


TOM: That he was standing in a pile of dog stuff.


CROW: [Mulder] Poopie!


>the Rangers standing in a
>small group, glancing up at
>them in wonder.


JOEL: [singing] I wonder. wonder, w-w-w-wonder, WHO.....


BOTS: [singing] Who wrote the book of love?


>"Golly.", Gadget stated simply.


CROW: A Simple Plan?


TOM: Blood Simple?


JOEL: Ah, er..... the hell with it.


>Mulder grinned,


TOM: Even Mulder thinks Joel is really bad at this.


JOEL: Ha ha.


>then bent down on one knee


CROW: And proposed to Scully.


TOM: [Mulder] Do you take me in sickness and health, through government cover-ups and alien abductions.....


>to get closer to the Rangers.
>
>"Thanks for everything.", he
>said. "If you ever need any
>more help from the FBI,


CROW; [Mulder] Call someone else.


>just give me a call."
>
>Chip walked over to
>Mulder and gave him


TOM: The finger.


CROW: Can you do that if you have only
four fingers on each hand?


TOM: [pause] Good point.


>a sharp salute. "Will do, Fox."


**************************


>Mulder and Scully walked
>slowly through the park, savoring


TOM: Each other's company.


CROW: [Mulder] You look ravishing in the dawn light, Scully.


JOEL: [Scully] Oh, knock it off, you big goof!


>the stillness of the cool
>morning air and the fact that
>they were finally back to


CROW: [Doc Brown] The Future!


>normal.....that is, as normal
>as their lives ever got.


JOEL: "The Addams Family" was more normal than "The X-Files"!


>As they walked, Scully
>began to speak.


TOM: [barking unenthusiastically]


CROW: Give it up, Tom.


TOM: [listlessly] Okay.


>"Will I be able to understand


JOEL: [Scully] The "mythology" episodes when the show is finally over?


TOM: [Mulder] Fat chance.


>animals from now
>on?", she asked.
>
>Mulder stopped and looked
>at Scully. "It all depends."
>
>Scully frowned. "On what?"


CROW: [Mulder] On whatever the drooling morons who wrote this have planned for the sequel.


>Mulder glanced around at
>the park, perfectly tranquil
>and pristine this early in
>the morning.


TOM: With the exception of the street construction half a block away.


>He then returned his
>penatrating gaze upon his partner.


JOEL: [Mulder] Yooouuuu...... are getting sleeeepy....


CROW: Zzzzz.....huh? You say something Joel?


>"On whether or not you
>want to believe."


TOM: [Mulder] That Chris Carter has any idea where the show is headed.


>With this, he continued
>to walk, leaving Scully


CROW: Twenty bucks on the night table.


>to contemplate the new door
>which had opened in her life....
>and if she wanted to enter it.


JOEL: [singing] I see a red door and I want to paint it black.....


****************************


>In a highly secretive
>room deep within the
>bowels of the Pentagon,


CROW: There was a humongous movement.


TOM: Oh, yuck!


>a man walked along a
>seemingly endless row of
>shelves looming high above him.


JOEL: [man] Great, I'll never find that back issue of "Entertainment Weekly" in this mess!


>Each one of the shelves
>was crammed with file
>boxes. He carried


TOM: A deadly toxin in his bloodstream.


>a file box of his own under
>one arm. He stopped at the
>section of one of the shelves
>marked "R" and placed
>the box on it.


CROW: He placed it on the "R"?


>He took off the top
>and peered inside.


TOM: [man] Hello, Mr. thing in the........ box? H-hello?


>The box contained a
>series of videotapes,


CROW: Keep circulating the tapes.


TOM & JOEL: [chuckling]


>as well as a handful of tiny
>mechanical devices,
>each one with meticulous
>attention to detail.


JOEL: [man] They're not "action figures", they're "collectable figurines"!


TOM: Sure they are. Yep.


>The man studied the contents
>of the box with a sour expression.


CROW: [man] I wish they'd release "Rescue Ranger" episodes on DVD.


>He then replaced the lid
>and pushed the box back
>onto the shelf.....where it
>now resided with thousands
>of identical boxes.


TOM: [box] So, uh, how you guys doin'?


JOEL: [another box] Pretty good.


>The man then took a pack of
>cigarettes from his pocket,


[Tom and Crow give Joel a worried look.]


JOEL: Hey, don't worry, guys. I'm all better now. Really.


TOM: [warily] If you say so....


>and, in direct defiance of
>the "No Smoking" sign
>posted at the door, lit up.


CROW: [Judge Dredd] I AM the law!


>CSM stared at the box for
>a few more moments,
>considering the information
>concealed within.


JOEL: Must be all the hate mail from people who dislike the show now.


>He then walked to the door
>and closed it behind him,
>sealing away the Rangers'
>secret for all time.


CROW: [starts humming the "Indiana Jones" march.]


JOEL: Steven Spielberg should sue.


TOM: It's not a "rip-off", it's an "homage"!


******************

>The greyhound bus came
>to a halt at the station in a
>cloud of choking exhaust.


JOEL: So much for the clear air laws.


>It was nearly midnight.


CROW: [weather guy] And the temperature currently stands at 60 degrees Fahrenheit. The dew point is at an all time low for this time of year....


>As the passengers for
>the next stop began to
>file up the stairs,


JOEL: The bus erupted in a spectacular fireball.


CROW: [Dennis Hopper] Pop quiz, hot shot! There's a bomb on a bus.....


>a short, heavyset man with
>a bandaged arm hobbled
>across the station and entered
>the bus. The bus then pulled
>out of the station with the squeal
>of it's air brakes filling the air.


TOM: [Criswell] Future events such as these will affect you in the future.


JOEL: Even Ed Wood would be embarrassed by this fic.


>The heavyset man settled
>into a spare seat with a grunt.
>His left hand went to his


CROW: Not again!


>bandaged right arm and
>began to massage it.


JOEL: It BETTER be his arm he's massaging.


>The businessman sitting
>across the aisle from him
>folded his newspaper in
>his lap and studied the
>odd looking fellow.


CROW: [odd-looking man] What are *you* lookin' at, punk?


>The bandage on his right
>arm looked mighty slipshod......
>almost as if he had done
>it himself.


TOM: [confused] So....the businessman put the bandage on the odd-looking guy?


CROW: I...... guess.


>The businessman finally
>could not hold his


JOEL: Lunch down a second longer, and spewed vomit in the odd looking fellow's lap.


>curiosity any longer.
>
>"Excuse me, sir,", he said
>with concern in his voice.
>"but are you


TOM: [businessman] Jason Alexander?


CROW: [odd-looking man] No. People ask me that all the time.


>alright? You look rather pale."
>
>The heavyset man
>looked up at him.


JOEL: This scene directed by Stanley Kubrick.


>The businessman recoiled
>slighty at what he saw, or
>what he THOUGHT he saw,
>flash through the heavyset
>man's eyes.


CROW: Love.


>Murder.


CROW: Oh.


>The businessman picked
>up his paper again and bent
>studiously to it, avoiding
>the other man's gaze.


TOM: [odd-looking man] I love a man who plays hard to get!


------------


>The heavyset man watched
>the nosy bus patron return to


JOEL: The grave.


>his paper, then gazed out
>the window, studying the dark
>landscape as it flashed by.


TOM: If it's so dark, how can he
be studying it?


>His hand went to his badly
>burned arm again and continued
>to massage it, his thoughts
>burning themselves.....with
>visions of


JOEL: Sugarplums dancing in his head.


>revenge.
>
>He smiled unpleasantly.


TOM: Then he frowned pleasantly.


>The greyhound bus
>continued it's journey
>into the dead of night,
>taking Professor Norton
>Nimnul with it.


[silence]


JOEL: WHAT?!?


TOM: Apparently the same plot device that got Krycek out of that missile silo was used here as well.


***************


>THE END.


JOEL: [Martin Luther King, Jr] Free at last, free at last, thank GOD almighty, we are free at last!


CROW: Testify!


>"I made this!"
>-Chris Carter.


TOM: I wouldn't brag about it, buddy.


[Joel and the 'bots leave the theater.]


-----------
[Door sequence runs in reverse.]
-----------


[SoL]


[Crow and Tom are standing in the bridge. Tom has a fedora placed jauntily on his dome. Crow is wearing a hawaiian shirt. Suddenly, There is a knock from off-camera.]


TOM: Hey Cr- uh, I mean Dale! That sounds like someone at the door!


CROW: Wowie-Zowie! I wonder who it could be?


[Joel and Gypsy enter from screen left. Joel is wearing a rumpled trenchcoat. Gypsy has an identical trenchcoat draped over her, as well as a red wig on her head.]


JOEL: Hi, I'm special agent Fox Mulder, and this is my partner Dana Scully. We're from the FBI and needed some help, so naturally we headed for the nearest oak tree.


CROW: Wowie-Zowie, but how did you get so small?


[Tom rams his dome into Crow's head. There is an audible, cartoonish "bonk" sound effect.]


TOM: Don't mind my useless teammate who serves no logical purpose in the group, but why ARE you so small?


JOEL: Well, we were shrunk by the evil, yet completely inept Doctor Norton Nimnul, who managed to survive a five-alarm blaze with only a tiny bandage on his arm.


CROW: Wowie-Zowie!


TOM: So, why are you here?


JOEL: Well, since we're such good buddies and all, I thought we'd stay here for the night.


[Suddenly, Magic Voice breaks in.]


MAGIC VOICE: [baritone] Ah, agent Mulder, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to reach you, even though Scully's cell phone has only one number on it's speed dial.


JOEL: Oh no, it's the cigarette smoking man, who's presence is never commented on by the government! What do you want, you black-lunged sonova-


MAGIC VOICE: [interrupting, still in baritone] I have called to make you an offer. I'll give you plans for the shrinking machine for a folder full of photos.


JOEL: [frowning] That's it? Then here, take it!


[Joel tosses the folder off-screen right.]


MAGIC VOICE: [baritone] Hey, thanks! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go kill my useless henchman.


[Another folder drops from the ceiling. Joel picks it up and hands it to Crow.]


JOEL: Hey, this is great! Now we can get back to our regular size!


CROW: Wowie-Zowie!


[Joel lets out a chuckle and takes off his trenchcoat, which he drapes over Gypsy's neck.]


JOEL: Good work, guys! We survived another terrible fanfic none the worse for wear.


TOM: Except for your nearly getting hopelessly addicted to cigarettes, Joel.


CROW: Zowie, uh, I mean yeah!


TOM: So, what WERE you doing in the transport tube room earlier?


[Joel grins.]


JOEL: Oh....... just sending the onboard supply of cigarettes to Gizmonics, is all.


[Tom and Crow gape at Joel's words, then break out into explosive titters. As they laugh, the Mad Light begins to flash.]


JOEL: [addressing Cambot] So, what do you think, sirs?


[GIZMONICS]


[The screen is filled with a thick cloud of smoke. Dr. Forrester swims out of the cloud wearing a scuba diver's mask over his eyes and breathing through an oxygen mouthpiece. He removes the mouthpiece and glares at the camera in extreme closeup.]


DR. F: I'll *get* you for this, Robinson! And your little 'BOTS, too!


[Frank emerges from the smoke cloud behind Dr. F, three cigarettes dangling from his mouth and a box of Dr. F's popcorn held in his hand.]


DR. F: Hit the button, Frank. And for God's sake, put those cigarettes OUT!


[Frank drops the cigarettes and crushes
them underneath his shoe, but as he hits the button, he slyly reaches into his popcorn box and takes out a fresh pack.]


[Fwoosh!]


[Joel Robinson, Crow T. Robot, Tom Servo, Gypsy, Magic Voice, Cambot, Dr. Clayton Forrester, TV's Frank, Gizmonics, and the Satellite of Love are a registered trademark of Best Brains. Chip, Dale, Gadget Hackwrench, Monterey Jack, Zipper (who?), Norton Nimnul and Fat Cat are a registered trademark of the Walt Disney corporation. Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Mr. X, the CSM, Skinner, Krycek and Marita Covvurabias are a registered trademark of Ten Thirteen productions. This here MST-ing is a registered trademark of Robert Knaus, who had a ball writing this. T-T-T-That's all, folks!]



>The bus then pulled out of
>the station with the squeal of
>it's air brakes filling the air.