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<An extra-large computer screen with scrolling text. The silhouettes of the human and bots can be seen in the lower right corner>
>>ATTACK OF THE ROCKOIDS
CROW: Oh this is going to go down baaaaaaaaaaaaaad.
TOM: I will save comment on this title for the proper time and place. Such as when I won't burst into unstoppable laughter at the mere physical attempt to speak the words.
>>What has gone before...
MIKE: Darkness, light, one god cutting off another god's genitalia and fashioning a few galaxies out of the larger bits.
CROW: Dinosaurs, Egyptians, fat-free yogurt.
TOM: Stuff, you know....
>>What inspires us?
MIKE: For some, it's fame, for others, it's love, for Suzie Pattytine of Westburrow, Minnesota, and winner of the Miss Mass Produce Competition, it's whiskers on kittens and warm woolen mittens.
>>Where do we get the ideas for a new invention, a novel, or a hot-selling
>>computer game?
CROW: Drugs. Usually drugs.
TOM: Or in this case, too much Ed Wood, too much X-files and way too much free time.
>>Ray Perkins, military drop-out, lives a reclusive life in a Northern
>>California cottage.
CROW: If this doesn't scream "Mad Serial Bomber", nothing does.
TOM: Military, check. Recluse, check. Wimpy, getting-sand-kicked-in-the-face name, check.
MIKE: Perkins? A Sci-Fi story revolves around a man named "Perkins"?
CROW: Maybe he'll get bitten by a radioactive piece of granite, become the dreaded "Rockoid", and proceed to demolish downtown Eureka.
>>He writes computer games that have been praised worldwide, and have
>>become best-sellers.
TOM: "Light Fog," and the amazing sequel, "Streamin," not to mention the fabulously successful "Panty Raider."
CROW: Lara Croft... mrrrmmm...
MIKE: First one to make breast jokes gets a time out.
CROW: Awww...
>>But he has never told anyone but his very few closest friends the source
>>of his inspiration for those stories:
TOM: Drugs. As stated before.
MIKE: That and many long years of repressed longings and a great need of many cold showers.
CROW: Mmmmmm... Lara Croft counter-weights....
MIKE: Crow, don't push it.
>his dreams.
TOM: Dreams, horrible dreams! Dreams of blood, of death, of creamy fillings that taste great yet are less filling, dreams that-
MIKE: All right, that's enough...
>>Almost every night since he was a victim of a strange accident during a
>>secret military mission during the Gulf War, he has had those dreams.
TOM: Gulf War, check. Secret mission, check. Have we had mention of the Illuminate or Black Helicopters yet?
MIKE: No just dreams and inspiration.
CROW: Secret mission? In the Gulf War? Did they need to steal sand or something?"
MIKE: Well, you see, Perkin's commander had this craving for a deep dish delux, and high command wouldn't take it lightly if he broke radio silence just to call up the pizza shop. So they had the unit pretended that it was really a commando raid against enemy facilities, with their target being an extra large with pepperoni.
CROW: Oh, cool!
MIKE: Not really. The pizza shop refused to hand over the food until they paid, so the commander had the place bombed as a terrorist stronghold withholding US property.
CROW: The things they don't tell you in history class.
MIKE: Pizza was only lightly singed though, so in the end it all worked out.
>>Horrible dreams. Of spaceships and bloody battles in outer space above a
>>far-off planet.
TOM: Gah! Thematic whiplash here.
CROW: So he bases his games on blood, space, blood, battles, blood, far off planets, and have we mentioned blood?... No wonder he's a hit.
MIKE: Somehow I just never imagined the creator of "Doom" as being named Perkins.
>And then there is she!
TOM: "There is she?"
MIKE: Don't waste your energy on grammar, Servo, I get the feeling we have a long way to go.
CROW: That and one gets the feeling too well we're not doing on grammar ourselves.
MIKE: Wall. Fourth. Break not. Thou Shalt.
TOM: <Yoda> Idleness leads to writings, writings lead to despair, despair leads to suffering... I sense much idleness in you.
>>Her sad-eyed, beautiful face and figure dominates those dreams. She
>>seems to call him, beckoning him. Two lost souls searching desperately
>>for each other.
CROW: Oh! Blood, battles, space, and a cool sci-fi chick! I want these games!
TOM: Starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, it's "Sleepless in Seltis IX."
>>One day a chance glance at a small newspaper story about rumors of
>>alien landings in Nevada strikes a nerve, that maybe there's a kernel of
>>truth behind those frightening dreams.
TOM: Wow. It takes a small newspaper article to alert this guy to the fact that aliens have been sighted in Nevada? I know the story says he lives in a deserted cabin, but come on!
CROW: A Kernel of Truth. Stuck behind the Molar of Perhaps and just under the Gum-Line of Could Be.
>>So Perkins sets off on a foolhardy mission to find the truth.
CROW: Yadda yadda yadaa, you can't handle the truth, the truth is out there, truth is what you have when all the lies have run out...
TOM: Aliens, check. Single man crusade to uncover their existence, check. Let's see, next on the list is Area 51 and Roswell, with a possible introduction of anal probes in the near future.
MIKE: With a character named Perkins? I hope not.
>>With the help of Manny Gonzales, a friend of his late father,
TOM: Mysterious friend of departed father, check.
MIKE: Is this a sci-fi thriller, or an anime ninja quest?
CROW: This was your father's sword...
TOM: My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die!
CROW: Luke...
MIKE: That's enough you two, back to the story.
>>Perkins manages to break inside the top secret military base at Area 51
>>in search of an answer to his impossible quest.
CROW: How does it know how to keep the hot things hot and the cold things cold?
MIKE: How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll pop?
TOM: Is there any possible way for Michael Jackson to get any weirder?
CROW: How much longer will the cursed Bubblegum Pop sensation continue? Is mass murder the only solution?
TOM: Area 51, check!
>>But all is not going very well...
MIKE: There have been three attempted anal probings, some psyched out FBI agent mistook him for his long lost sister, some wacko in a strange cloak and spacesuit is babbling about three-edged swords, and he hasn't even gotten past the mobs of trekkie fans demanding that they release the Ferengi Trading Vessel.
TOM: And yet, he had no idea Area 51 even existed until he read about it in an article about Old Lady Jerkin's pet cat possibly getting abducted by UFOs and deposited in the branches of her oak tree. This guy makes Norman Bates look like a social animal.
CROW: My cue to exit, stage left.
<all get up and tail out of the theater>