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astra_aurora(Author's Note: The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia. Agents Ally and Grace belong to me. Mystery Science Theater 3000 belongs to Joel Hodgson and Best Brains, Inc. 'Bargain Hunting' was written by an author whose identity I don't know, but I can safely say that it wasn't me. 'I Bet You They Won't Play This Song On The Radio' was written, produced and performed by Monty Python.)
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ALLY: You know what? I don’t give a flying fuck what you say, in the interests of keeping us both alive and intact, you are not allowed to bring anything you built or altered yourself on a mission unless it’s been repeatedly proven to do only what it’s supposed to!
GRACE: But it did work! It did exactly what it was supposed to when I tested it!
ALLY: Right, and it was supposed to leave me topless in front of the canons?
GRACE: That was a fluke! I don’t know how it happened!
ALLY: That’s no bloody excuse! They saw my tits!
GRACE: You’ve had sex on live national television and you’re upset because five people saw you half-naked?
ALLY: *blushing* That was different!
GRACE: OK, first, that’s irrelevant, and second, can we do this later? We’ve got porn to spork.
ALLY: Remind me what this is again?
GRACE: It’s a short story containing really terrible porn.
ALLY: Is this fanfic?
GRACE: No. It’s original fiction.
ALLY: *puzzled* If it’s original, why are we sporking it?
GRACE: Because it’s hilarious. Apparently. I haven’t read it.
ALLY: Well… OK, then.
GRACE: *huge smile* Hello and welcome to Mystery Science Theatre! I'm Grace Leon and this is Ally Malet!
ALLY: Hi?
*the lights dim, and a countdown appears on the screen. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…*
ALLY: We’ve got badfic… oh, wait.
GRACE: Yeah, doesn’t work, does it?
ALLY: What can we say instead?
GRACE: How about ‘bullshit'?
ALLY: Holy shit!
GRACE: What?
ALLY: You swore!
GRACE: Special occasion. So, what do you think?
ALLY: I like it!
ALLY and GRACE: We’ve got bullshit sign!
GRACE: Yeah, that’s good.
Bargain Hunting
ALLY: This doesn’t contain whores, does it? Please say it doesn’t.
GRACE: It doesn’t.
ALLY: Are you lying to me?
GRACE: This time? No.
ALLY: Wait, when did you-
GRACE: Oh look, it’s continuing!
The drugstore was selling condoms two for the price of one
GRACE: Hang on, that’s not how it works. I thought condoms were only sold in packets.
ALLY: What’s a drugstore?
GRACE: You don’t know?
ALLY: No?
GRACE: All right. A drugstore is a place where people buy medicines. They buy other things too, but it’s mainly medicines.
ALLY: Oh, I see. I’ve never heard that term before. *she pauses* Wouldn’t most people want more than a couple of condoms?
GRACE: Are you trying to be logical?
ALLY: Hey, you started it.
so Pearl went, knowing that she didn’t know what sort of person she might meet in such a place.
*both agents blink*
GRACE: Jesus, woman, it’s a drugstore! Unless you live in a bad part of town, who do you think you’ll meet there?
ALLY: And if you think it’s so dangerous, why go anyway? Surely there are better condoms to buy places- wait, I said that wrong.
GRACE: *snickers*
She was in luck. Directly in front of her at the checkout was a man she recognized from television, Travis Maurell, his glutes trimming ticklishly beneath his clothing.
ALLY: What’s a glute, and how does it trim?
GRACE: I… don’t know.
He was the star of the commercials for his fitness center, Le Laissez-Faire, and everyone at work nattered about how arousing he was.
GRACE: *laughs hysterically* Le Laissez-Faire?
ALLY: What?
GRACE: ‘Laissez-faire’ is a term used to describe places where business between private parties is free of state intervention, like taxes. You wouldn’t call a fitness centre that. Unless you’re an idiot, of course.
ALLY: *laughs* And… do people in World One talk about how arousing they find celebrities? Is that normal?
GRACE: Well, generally most people just talk about who they think is attractive. It’s… sort of the same thing, just in less R-rated words.
They bought their condoms, and Pearl caught up with him in the parking lot. “Mr. Maurell,” she said. “I love your adverts. What did you buy?”
GRACE: Hang on. How is it any of her business what he buys?
ALLY: *shrugs* She’s a crazy stalker who wants to know everything about him?
GRACE: Yeah, I can buy that.
“Hmm? Oh, just some condoms. I need to restock my first aid kit,” said Travis.
ALLY: But… why would you have condoms in a first-aid kit?
GRACE: Because everyone has condoms in a first-aid kit. It's just the best thing to have. They're so useful, and easy to get, and you can do anything with them-
ALLY: Stop talking. Please.
Up close, Pearl realized he was French.
GRACE: *falls out of her chair laughing*
ALLY: *stares at the screen, confused* French?
GRACE: *gets back into her chair* The French are people from the World One country called France.
ALLY: Wait... you can't tell what country someone is from just by looking at them.
GRACE: No, you can't. But nobody said these stories had to make sense.
She nodded. Before too long they were in back of Travis’s sedan, undulating like the veins on an erect member. “Are you an ass-fucker?” she asked.
ALLY: *stares* My God.
GRACE: Uh-huh.
ALLY: Sedans are cars, yes?
GRACE: They’re a kind of car.
ALLY: People actually fuck in them?
GRACE: Yep.
ALLY: But… what about privacy, and room to move, and…
GRACE: Generally, I’ve found that, at least when they’re letting their genitalia do the thinking for them, most people don’t think about that.
ALLY: Your world is so goddamn weird.
GRACE: Ahem.
ALLY: Sorry. The world your world was based on is so goddamn weird.
GRACE: Thanks. Did the story say what is undulating?
ALLY: *glances back over the story* No, actually.
GRACE: So these two are currently moving in a wavelike motion?
ALLY: Apparently. *she pauses* Is it just me, or is ‘Are you an ass-fucker?’ one of the most unappealing statements ever?
GRACE: It’s not you.
“You bet,” said Travis. She eased his member from his y-fronts. The shadows the dark interior of the car cast on it brought deep contrast to each bend and twist. It nestled against Travis’s quivering scrotum like a pair of breasts in the sand.
ALLY: Wait a second. What are y-fronts?
GRACE: Underpants.
ALLY: Oh. Um… if she has to ease his dick out of his underwear, does that mean he’s got a really huge dick?
GRACE: Either that, or they were made with really tight elastic.
*Ally winces*
GRACE: A pair of breasts in the sand? I hope the story didn’t mean disembodied breasts, ‘cause I’m getting some bad mental images.
ALLY: I really didn’t need to think of that, thanks. And if his cock has twists and bends in it, he needs a hospital. Now that I think of it, how exactly does a scrotum quiver?
GRACE: Very carefully.
She turned over, and felt him spread her ass-traps apart. He took his time lubricating her, stuffing the jelly in gently like a KY dildo. At last he finished, and penetrated her. She grunted, and soon moans exploded out of her like dying supernovas. Finally they both came.
*both agents stare at the screen in confused horror*
ALLY: Ass-traps.
GRACE: Dying supernovas.
ALLY: KY dildo.
GRACE: I don’t think I have a response for this.
ALLY: I do. *she inhales* THIS STORY IS TOTALLY FUCKING STUPID!
GRACE: Feeling better?
ALLY: Not really.
GRACE: We’re just trying to distract ourselves from the story, aren’t we?
ALLY: Yep.
GRACE: *sighs* Fine. ‘Ass-traps’? So his penis will get bitten off by dozens of steel jaws?
ALLY: *stares at her in horror* What the fuck have you been doing?
GRACE: Long story. Anyway. That is not how you lubricate an arse. And supernovas don’t moan, they explode. Maybe this character is exploding.
ALLY: Nice try.
GRACE: I don’t think I’ve ever read more unappealing porn.
ALLY: I totally agree.
Travis, considerately, helped her to sponge the ejaculate from her anus. When she saw it outside of her body, Pearl was reminded of grated garlic. “You want some Italian food?” she asked.
GRACE: Um…
ALLY: Er…
GRACE: Well…
ALLY: Ah…
GRACE: Shall I say it?
ALLY: If you want.
GRACE: If it looks like grated garlic, you’ve got a serious problem.
“So long as it’s not tacos!” Travis said, and they laughed. They redressed with practiced hands, and drove to the nearest bistro.
GRACE: But… tacos are Mexican!
ALLY: Tacos are food, right?
GRACE: Yes. Yes, they are.
ALLY: OK, I’m calling it. This is the worst porn ever.
GRACE: Oh God, now you’ve done it…
ALLY: What’s the next bit?
GRACE: There is no next bit.
ALLY: Wait, that’s it?
GRACE: Yep.
ALLY: That’s it?
GRACE: Uh huh.
ALLY: What a let-down.
GRACE: What?
ALLY: I was expecting a really long story full of purple prose.
GRACE: Hey, stop complaining. This could have been much, much worse.
ALLY: Christ, OK. Look, if this is done, can I go now? I’ve got a book to finish.
GRACE: Yeah, I’ll join you- I still have to work on those jets.
(They get up and begin to walk toward the doors.)
ALLY: And anyway, it doesn’t matter that it’s irrelevant. It’s not like you ended up half-naked in front of canons.
GRACE: God, would you let that go?
ALLY: No!
GRACE: All right! I’ll test the damned thing again.
ALLY: No, you’ll test everything again.
GRACE: Or what?
ALLY: Or I’m giving that neuralyzer to Luxury, and I’ll tell her that you want her to test it by using it on every agent in HQ, and she has to tell them who made it when she does.
GRACE: …you evil bitch.
ALLY: *smirks* Hey, we could have avoided this if you’d just tested it. Think of it as… a warning.
(She leaves)
GRACE: *facepalms* Great. Just great. Why me?
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Astral Void: Hi! So, this is my first MST. It probably needs work, but I tried to make it funny. I know that technically, the PPC aren't supposed to do anything to original fiction, but this was hilarious, so I thought, 'Why not?'. Well, after PoorCynic told me I couldn't spork it. If anyone's wondering, the incident Ally and Grace were arguing about concerned a neuralyzer that Grace tried to adapt to make it more efficient with less potential danger, but when she tried it out, it made Ally's shirt and bra disintegrate. I'm not sure whether I'll put it in a mission or not. But anyway, thanks for reading!
