In the Control Center of Prof. Pendrell's Lab...
Pendrell adjusts her glasses, cackling evilly. She has decided to have a little fun with the senshi by installing a Torture Implementation Device, also known as an Interocitor, inside the review chamber (without the hapless reviewers' knowledge, of course). As the prisoners enter their hall of torture, the professor pulls one of several switches on the device, all the while laughing like a madman. Steve, her new assistant, elf extraordinaire and all-around guy in pink shorts with blue hair, rubs his palms together, anticipating the zapping of the reviewers. Secil, the new maid, stands observing, pink duster in hand. As one might guess from all the new spiffy stuff the professor bought herself, she hit up the Three Lights for some of their profit intake in exchange for their temporary freedom. So now the three inhabitants of Pendrell's lab await the toasting of the test subjects. Much to their surprise, all the senshi disappear. Poof. Meanwhile, on a Professor Pendrell-owned satellite, complete with a movie theater and all the necessary objects for a tolerable life... <Satellite> All Senshi: Nani yo? <HQ> Pendrell: Whozawha?? Steve: Ehm... I think you accidentally beamed the sailor senshi into space, ma'am. Pendrell: Oh. Did I now.. goodness me, that was a stupid thing to do. Why did I ever install a 'Beam Senshi Into Outer Space' switch? Steve: Because you're mad? Pendrell: Oh yeah. Secil: Pardon, professor, but is the experimental satellite even ready for them to be onboard yet? Pendrell: Sure, sure, the basics are up there, they'll be fine.. well, not really.. I mean, the theater's up there and all that.. I just have to dig up that old Fanficulator of mine so that they can put the theater to good use, that's all.. <Satellite> Usagi: Weeell.... now what? Minako: We curse our existence. We curse it, we curse it. Ami: According to my calculations... Makoto: Now 'fess up, Ami. You don't really have any calculations, do you? Ami: ... absolutely none whatsoever. Never have, never did. Makoto: Finally we see the truth. Ami: But... I have an educated guess for you.. namely that our oxygen supply isn't limitless; therefore, we're all going to die. Minako: No more accursed existence! Usagi: Less fanfics! All: YAY! <HQ> Steve observes the letters emblazoned above his head on the wall which have appeared in somewhat enigmatic fashion, pondering aloud. The sign reads S o M. Steve: Som..niloquent? Pendrell: NO, SoM stands for Satellite of Might. It's our.. uh.. mighty headquarters, yes. Steve: Sounds lamer than a one-winged duck, if you ask me. Pendrell: I didn't. Prepare to die. *procures a toaster with which to zap the elf* Steve: Oh! Please! You seriously think an unplugged toaster will-- *FZZZT* Pendrell: NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF MY TOASTER! Steve: @_o <Satellite> Mamoru: Hey. You can't call your HQ the Satellite of Might! It's not even IN space! Makoto: And besides that, it sounds.. stupid! <SoM> Pendrell: Look, what do you want from me? I'm MAD! MAD, do you hear?! Steve: But they're right, it really IS stupid to call HQ a satellite if it isn't orbiting the ea-- *Steve is swatted out of view by Pendrell's golf club; much elf-beating ensues.* <Satellite> Usagi: Professor..? Umm... I don't think they can hear us right now. All: Nerrr... *wait patiently* <SoM> Pendrell: *composes herself, dusting off her lab coat* Paging Satellite of Losers. Come in, Losers. <Satellite> Makoto: Beg pardon, but here we are known as the inhabitants of Satellite Lethargy, thank you. Rei: Yes, we resent being referred to as the crew of Losery. <SoM> Pendrell: Steve! Steve: What is't? (The following is a little song by Pendrell set to a condensed rendition of Eric D. Snider's -Scully Song-.) Pendrell: Hee hee. *cue the piano riff* Oh, I have a lovely plan for these senshi we have placed... through some innocent fault of mine into outer space... Steve: Sing it, man! Pendrell: Although I'm hard pressed... for a way to torture them... at least I've found a way to send them these little literary jems... toooo seeeeend theeeeeeeeemm.... *Steve plugs his ears in anticipation.* FANFICS! DIRTY FANFICS! WE'LL SEND 'EM BY THE LOAD! THEY CAN READ 'EM FOREVER IN THEIR SHINY NEW ABODE! .... THEY LOVE THOSE FANFICS, AND I GUESS IT'S COMMON KNOWLEDGE! THEY'LL READ THEM FOREVER AND EVER.... EVEEEN IF IT MEEEAAANS... help me out here, Steve. And Secil, take it away! *Steve joins her in front of the screen* <SoL> All: ... --; <SoM> Both: EVEEEN IF IT MEEEAAANS... *ridiculous falsettos* ..THEY HAVE TO SKIP COLLEGE! Ta dah! *Secil bangs her head down on the piano for a smashing finale.* Pendrell: YEAH! <SoL> Minako: ... Rei: Very. Scary. Very.. Minako: .. oh, horrible existence! Pain to the deepest recesses of my soul! I hurt! I ache! Why is our existence nothing but PAIN? Usagi: You speak it like it is, V-chan! Ami: This makes no sense. How can we all be crammed into this tiny geocirculating tin can and still have enough air left to breathe? My caculations-- Makoto: You have no calculations. Remember? Ami: *blink* Ohh yeah. .. Anyway. Care to explain it, sirs? <SoM> Pendrell: Yes yes yes, hi diddly ho, you collective balls of goof! <SoL> All: 0o;; Minako: You're horrible! Horrible!! >< <SoM> Pendrell: Well, I couldn't think of anything besides collective heads of knuckle... originality is what we're striving for here, people. Steve: And we're about as original as the fifteenth remake of Fly Me To The Moon: the blue grass edition. Pendrell: Uh.. wait. I don't get it. Does that mean we're really original, or we're incredibly trite? Steve: I have no idea.. Pendrell: Your metaphors and similes can bite me. <SoL> Rei: Sirs, with all due respect, we'd like to be beamed back down to Earth before we all suffocate up here. <SoM> Pendrell: No-can-do there, sonny, you see, you'll never run out of oxygen. The system up there runs anime-style, so you can rest assured you'll never run out of air, therefore.. why should I bring you back and give you all those needless assets you had down here before? Steve: Like living space, television-- <SoL> Minako: -- tacos, Backstreet Boys posters, beer hats-- <SoM> Steve: -- fanfics... <SoL> Minako: Yeah... no.. fanfics! We have none! We are free! <SoM> Pendrell: Ha! *lifts up a large, goofy-looking machine with some effort* In your dreams, you poops of the nincom! Or weren't you listening to my song earlier? You see... I have this Fanficulator. It'll beam you some niiiiice literature. Garbage, really, but hey, it's my Fanficulator and I'll do what I want with it. I'm the god! I'M THE GOD!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!! <SoL> All: Aaaahh!! *all duck down as a precaution, so as not to be zapped by any stray Interocitor rays* <SoM> Pendrell: Now then. Would you care to know what wunderful bundle of joy I'm sending to you? No? Tough , I'm still gonna tell you. The Crap du Jour happens to be titled... Next Gen 2. Steve: Woo woo! We're buying it wholesale and passing the savings on to you! Pendrell: ... yes. Well, anyhoo, back to business, are we? How about.. a new name for the archives? To represent your feelings at this point. <SoL> All: Damn. <SoM> Pendrell: Aha! How about... Doodly Anime Mstees? <SoL> All: ... Minako: I kind of like it. All: No way! Eww! <SoM> Pen: Fine. Can YOU do better? <SoL> Mamoru: I'M sure we can. Ami: Drivel And Mad Mediations In Time. Minako: No way, Ami. Overly Humerous and Nutty Oblongations. Ami: Do you even know what an oblongation is? Usagi: I begin to side with Pendrell here, guys. -_-; Makoto: WOOHOO: Wunderfully Omnipotent and Omniferous Humor... umm.. never mind. Usagi: Dementedly Amusing Mstees! Mamoru: Humerous and Eloquent Hallucinations. <SoM> Pendrell: Hold on.. Usagi... your economy-sized brain may have struck upon it.. yes! We'll call it... DAM! <SoL> All: .. DAM? <SoM> Pendrell: Yeah, I said DAM! Didn't you hear me the first time? <SoL> Minako: *snickers* DAM. All: *repeat slowly, as if accepting their cruel fate* ..DAM...
And so it was. And it wasn't very good.
