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astra_auroraAuthor's Note: The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia. Agents Ally and Grace belong to me. 'Clubbing' was written by an unknown author who is definitely not me. 'You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk' was written, recorded and performed by the Pet Shop Boys.
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(SCENE: The PPC Theatre. Agent Grace is sitting in the front row, reading a piece of paper she’s holding in her hand. Agent Ally walks into the theatre and down to the front row.)
GRACE: Hi, Ally.
ALLY: Hi, Grace. What’s that?
GRACE: A letter from the Floating Hyacinth.
ALLY: What does it say?
GRACE: She says that we can’t bash any authors of anything we spork.
ALLY: …Oops. We went a bit overboard, didn't we?
GRACE: I’d say ‘a bit’ is a huge understatement.
ALLY: OK, message received. *she sits down next to Grace* No more author-bashing.
GRACE: Yep. We’ll be good.
ALLY: *snorts*
GRACE: OK, we won’t be bad.
ALLY: *raises eyebrows*
GRACE: That bad.
ALLY: *nods* Hi, I’m Ally Malet-
GRACE: -and I’m Grace Leon-
BOTH: And this is Mystery Science Theatre!
*a countdown appears: 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…*
BOTH: We’ve got bullshit sign!
Clubbing
ALLY: With actual clubs?
GRACE: No, nightclubs.
ALLY: What’s a nightclub?
GRACE: We aren’t going to have to do this every time, are we?
ALLY: What?
GRACE: You make some naively innocent comment about the title and I have to explain it to you.
ALLY: It’s not my fault I don’t know everything about World One.
GRACE: Yeah, I know. *she sighs* Anyway, to answer your question, a nightclub is a place where people go to dance, drink and pick up random strangers to have one-night-stands with. *she pauses* Do I have to explain one-night-stands, too?
ALLY: I’m not that ignorant, thank you.
When Berenice was out clubbing, she caught sight of something truly wonderful.
ALLY: A unicorn?
On stage, there was a man, dressed entirely in spandex, his ass-breasts bulging out pleasingly, and the outline of his member clearly visible.
GRACE: No. No, that is not a unicorn.
ALLY: Ass-breasts. I…
GRACE: Yeah, I don’t know what to do with that.
She had to squint to make out his nametag, but his name was Tony Daalman, and he was clearly French.
ALLY: Oh, not again!
GRACE: *slams head into the back of the seat in front of her*
ALLY: Not French?
GRACE: Well, for a start, why would this guy have a nametag?
ALLY: Because he works there?
GRACE: No, no. Look, if he’s on stage and dressed in spandex, he probably doesn’t hold a job that would require a nametag. Besides, most nametags only have first names.
ALLY: ‘Daalman’?
GRACE: That sounds… Dutch, actually. Not that I know much about Dutch names. But it definitely isn’t French.
Berenice felt her g-spot grow hard.
ALLY: Oh, come on! That is not how it works!
GRACE: *thoughtfully* Do you think this could have been a parody?
ALLY: Maybe. I’m not sure.
She watched his dance until he got off work.
ALLY: He did WHAT?
GRACE: No! Not that! He finished his shift, is what the story means!
ALLY: *calms down* Oh, I see.
GRACE: And this line just reinforces my last point. He’s a dancer, so why would he have a nametag?
ALLY: OK, I get it. Major fail.
She waited next to the stage, and he approached her. “Hey,” Tony said, in French. “So you like my band?”
GRACE: Is that meant to be a pick-up line?
ALLY: I think so. As pick-up lines go, that one’s pretty shit.
“You’re very good,” Berenice said. “But there’s more to life than prog rock.”
GRACE: Wait a second. This guy was a dancer five seconds ago. If he’s a dancer, why would he have his own band?
ALLY: Obviously, he’s just that talented. And French.
They waited until the club had cleared out for the morning. There was just a hint of light peeping over the horizon, but Berenice felt as though they were basking in the light of Tony’s member.
ALLY: So apparently, this guy’s cock has a sun in it.
GRACE: Gives a whole new meaning to ‘a world in a microcosm’, doesn’t it?
ALLY: I have no idea what you just said, but I know I wouldn’t want to live on a world lit by a sun in a cock.
GRACE: Lumos cock! Eh… doesn’t have a good ring to it.
ALLY: *snorts*
She was wearing a stylish little petticoat, which Tony plucked from her like she was a granddaddy-long-legs. Then he removed her blouse, her camisole, and her brassiere.
ALLY: Uh…
GRACE: It’s a kind of spider, though they’re usually called ‘daddy-long-legs’- at least in my experience.
ALLY: Oh, I see. It still doesn’t make sense, though.
GRACE: Apparently, it’s quite easy to pull their legs off.
ALLY: That’s disgusting.
GRACE: I know. But you did ask.
ALLY: Fair point.
Tony cut a hole for his member out of the spandex, and soon they were fucking.
ALLY: So apparently, undressing is no longer required for sex. Charming.
GRACE: I don’t know much about spandex, but maybe it would have taken too long to get out of?
ALLY: Don’t try to justify this shit.
GRACE: No author bashing!
ALLY: I was talking about the story!
Berenice reached behind him and stuck two fingers into his tempering anus.
GRACE: Let’s see… *she pulls a dictionary from her bag* ‘To modify using the addition of a secondary element; to alter metal, glass or alloys in order to harden them’. So… this guy has either got an anus undergoing a heat treatment, or an anus that is burning her fingers off.
ALLY: *grabs her hand and winces in pain*
She patted his scrotum with her thumb.
ALLY: Good scrotum. Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy!
Tony moaned in French.
ALLY: How do you moan in French?
GRACE: *moans* In…. French…
ALLY: Ha, ha, ha.
He strung at her nipples like guitar strings,
GRACE: *stares in horror* They’re not just nubs of flesh, you know! They’re sensitive!
but her vagina was a hole, and it needed to be filled, and there was a member inside her.
ALLY: Boring. Besides, if he’s already penetrated her, why mention that she has a hole that needs filling?
GRACE: That last thing you said makes me feel like I’m in a really cheesy porno.
They ground themselves into the dance floor. They came to the sound of the strobe lights.
GRACE: I might be wrong, but I don’t think strobe lights make noise.
ALLY: I won’t be wrong, ‘cause I know that grinding yourselves into floors hurts like a bitch.
Tony pulled out of Berenice’s quickly leavening vagina.
GRACE: Hello, yeast infection!
ALLY: Wait, isn’t yeast a good thing?
GRACE: Well, Ally, when a vagina and yeast love each other very much-
ALLY: You know what, don’t worry, I’ll look it up later.
Neither of them knew what to do about the ejaculate on the floor, so they decided to leave it for the cleanup crew.
GRACE: Now, that is just inconsiderate.
“I’ll be playing at the Marriott next week,” Tony said in French. “You should come by.”
“I think I will,” said Berenice, and they walked from the club, arm in arm.
ALLY: I feel like I’m in Ocean’s Eleven.
GRACE: I know the feeling.
ALLY: So, are we done?
GRACE: Yeah, we’re done.
ALLY: Oh, good. I need to feed the Thereah.
GRACE: Well, let’s go then.
ALLY: Preferably before any more bad sex turns up. *they run out of the theatre*.
----
(SCENE: The PPC Theatre. Agent Grace is sitting in the front row, reading a piece of paper she’s holding in her hand. Agent Ally walks into the theatre and down to the front row.)
GRACE: Hi, Ally.
ALLY: Hi, Grace. What’s that?
GRACE: A letter from the Floating Hyacinth.
ALLY: What does it say?
GRACE: She says that we can’t bash any authors of anything we spork.
ALLY: …Oops. We went a bit overboard, didn't we?
GRACE: I’d say ‘a bit’ is a huge understatement.
ALLY: OK, message received. *she sits down next to Grace* No more author-bashing.
GRACE: Yep. We’ll be good.
ALLY: *snorts*
GRACE: OK, we won’t be bad.
ALLY: *raises eyebrows*
GRACE: That bad.
ALLY: *nods* Hi, I’m Ally Malet-
GRACE: -and I’m Grace Leon-
BOTH: And this is Mystery Science Theatre!
*a countdown appears: 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…*
BOTH: We’ve got bullshit sign!
Clubbing
ALLY: With actual clubs?
GRACE: No, nightclubs.
ALLY: What’s a nightclub?
GRACE: We aren’t going to have to do this every time, are we?
ALLY: What?
GRACE: You make some naively innocent comment about the title and I have to explain it to you.
ALLY: It’s not my fault I don’t know everything about World One.
GRACE: Yeah, I know. *she sighs* Anyway, to answer your question, a nightclub is a place where people go to dance, drink and pick up random strangers to have one-night-stands with. *she pauses* Do I have to explain one-night-stands, too?
ALLY: I’m not that ignorant, thank you.
When Berenice was out clubbing, she caught sight of something truly wonderful.
ALLY: A unicorn?
On stage, there was a man, dressed entirely in spandex, his ass-breasts bulging out pleasingly, and the outline of his member clearly visible.
GRACE: No. No, that is not a unicorn.
ALLY: Ass-breasts. I…
GRACE: Yeah, I don’t know what to do with that.
She had to squint to make out his nametag, but his name was Tony Daalman, and he was clearly French.
ALLY: Oh, not again!
GRACE: *slams head into the back of the seat in front of her*
ALLY: Not French?
GRACE: Well, for a start, why would this guy have a nametag?
ALLY: Because he works there?
GRACE: No, no. Look, if he’s on stage and dressed in spandex, he probably doesn’t hold a job that would require a nametag. Besides, most nametags only have first names.
ALLY: ‘Daalman’?
GRACE: That sounds… Dutch, actually. Not that I know much about Dutch names. But it definitely isn’t French.
Berenice felt her g-spot grow hard.
ALLY: Oh, come on! That is not how it works!
GRACE: *thoughtfully* Do you think this could have been a parody?
ALLY: Maybe. I’m not sure.
She watched his dance until he got off work.
ALLY: He did WHAT?
GRACE: No! Not that! He finished his shift, is what the story means!
ALLY: *calms down* Oh, I see.
GRACE: And this line just reinforces my last point. He’s a dancer, so why would he have a nametag?
ALLY: OK, I get it. Major fail.
She waited next to the stage, and he approached her. “Hey,” Tony said, in French. “So you like my band?”
GRACE: Is that meant to be a pick-up line?
ALLY: I think so. As pick-up lines go, that one’s pretty shit.
“You’re very good,” Berenice said. “But there’s more to life than prog rock.”
GRACE: Wait a second. This guy was a dancer five seconds ago. If he’s a dancer, why would he have his own band?
ALLY: Obviously, he’s just that talented. And French.
They waited until the club had cleared out for the morning. There was just a hint of light peeping over the horizon, but Berenice felt as though they were basking in the light of Tony’s member.
ALLY: So apparently, this guy’s cock has a sun in it.
GRACE: Gives a whole new meaning to ‘a world in a microcosm’, doesn’t it?
ALLY: I have no idea what you just said, but I know I wouldn’t want to live on a world lit by a sun in a cock.
GRACE: Lumos cock! Eh… doesn’t have a good ring to it.
ALLY: *snorts*
She was wearing a stylish little petticoat, which Tony plucked from her like she was a granddaddy-long-legs. Then he removed her blouse, her camisole, and her brassiere.
ALLY: Uh…
GRACE: It’s a kind of spider, though they’re usually called ‘daddy-long-legs’- at least in my experience.
ALLY: Oh, I see. It still doesn’t make sense, though.
GRACE: Apparently, it’s quite easy to pull their legs off.
ALLY: That’s disgusting.
GRACE: I know. But you did ask.
ALLY: Fair point.
Tony cut a hole for his member out of the spandex, and soon they were fucking.
ALLY: So apparently, undressing is no longer required for sex. Charming.
GRACE: I don’t know much about spandex, but maybe it would have taken too long to get out of?
ALLY: Don’t try to justify this shit.
GRACE: No author bashing!
ALLY: I was talking about the story!
Berenice reached behind him and stuck two fingers into his tempering anus.
GRACE: Let’s see… *she pulls a dictionary from her bag* ‘To modify using the addition of a secondary element; to alter metal, glass or alloys in order to harden them’. So… this guy has either got an anus undergoing a heat treatment, or an anus that is burning her fingers off.
ALLY: *grabs her hand and winces in pain*
She patted his scrotum with her thumb.
ALLY: Good scrotum. Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy!
Tony moaned in French.
ALLY: How do you moan in French?
GRACE: *moans* In…. French…
ALLY: Ha, ha, ha.
He strung at her nipples like guitar strings,
GRACE: *stares in horror* They’re not just nubs of flesh, you know! They’re sensitive!
but her vagina was a hole, and it needed to be filled, and there was a member inside her.
ALLY: Boring. Besides, if he’s already penetrated her, why mention that she has a hole that needs filling?
GRACE: That last thing you said makes me feel like I’m in a really cheesy porno.
They ground themselves into the dance floor. They came to the sound of the strobe lights.
GRACE: I might be wrong, but I don’t think strobe lights make noise.
ALLY: I won’t be wrong, ‘cause I know that grinding yourselves into floors hurts like a bitch.
Tony pulled out of Berenice’s quickly leavening vagina.
GRACE: Hello, yeast infection!
ALLY: Wait, isn’t yeast a good thing?
GRACE: Well, Ally, when a vagina and yeast love each other very much-
ALLY: You know what, don’t worry, I’ll look it up later.
Neither of them knew what to do about the ejaculate on the floor, so they decided to leave it for the cleanup crew.
GRACE: Now, that is just inconsiderate.
“I’ll be playing at the Marriott next week,” Tony said in French. “You should come by.”
“I think I will,” said Berenice, and they walked from the club, arm in arm.
ALLY: I feel like I’m in Ocean’s Eleven.
GRACE: I know the feeling.
ALLY: So, are we done?
GRACE: Yeah, we’re done.
ALLY: Oh, good. I need to feed the Thereah.
GRACE: Well, let’s go then.
ALLY: Preferably before any more bad sex turns up. *they run out of the theatre*.
