SD5

Captain Sisto of the United States Air Force strolled through the park on the most wonderful, beautiful day in memory. With him were his gorgeous wife Jennifer McCarthy, his delightful children Mary-Kate and Ashley the Olsen Twins, and his frolicking pup Benji. Oh, they were all so cute and happy you could just eat them up!
"Oh, boy!" beamed Sisto. "Has there ever been a more perfect day ever?"
"Oh, darling!" cooed his wife. "It's only as perfect as our happy marriage and our cuddlesome kiddies!"
"Arf arf!"
She smiled. "Yes, and you too, Benji!"
"Oh Daddy!" chorused the twins as they hugged his legs in a spontaneous burst of pure love. "You're most goodest daddy two girls could ever have!"
"Oh, you're so sweet! Look! When you've finished your ice cream, I got us tickets to the petting zoo!"
"Hooray! Hooray! We love you, Daddy!" Their faces made the cutest dimples as they said it.
"Could life ever be better for us?" asked Jenny. "Oh. look! I found a winning Powerball lottery ticket! Now we can dedicate our lives to making those less fortunate than us--which is pretty much everybody, let's face it--as happy and carefree as we are!"
"Look, Daddy!" said Mary-Kate, or possibly Ashley. "I see a cloud shaped like the prettiest princess pony ever!"
"I see a cloud shaped like a scrumpdillyishus ice cream sundae so big all the starving children in the world could eat it!" said whatever twin that was.
"Arf arf! I see one shaped like a tipped-over trash can of delicious garbage!"
"Hey!" said Sisto. "Our beloved doggie just learned to talk! Ain't life wonderful! And, look--I see a cloud shaped like a gigantic Alien Death Ship, about to wreak untold carnage upon an unsuspectin' and helpless world!"

KAAAA-BOOOOOOMM!!!!!!

{"Well," said Moltar, "It's not much, but it IS a dead Connick."}

"Stop braggin'!" yelled Sisto. "They killed my wife AND my kids AND they got my little dog, too!"
"They killed all my cousins!" said the only surviving member of Menudo.
"They got my thumbs, Charley!" said the Pope of Greenwich Village.
"They killed my mother!" said Bambi. "Aliens...are in the forest."
"Sisto," said the President, "We need you and Harry Jr to fly your fighter jets to Area 51 so that we can prepare our counter-attack."
"That's near the Mall, right? I think I bought some candlesticks there once."
"Not Pier One! Area 51 is an ultra top-secret classified hush-hush government base no one has ever heard of, unless they've watched TV for more than 10 minutes in their lives."
"Two words," said the Secretary of Defense. "Bad Writing."

Sisto and Harry Jr were in their fighters, popping the clutch and telling the Aliens to eat their dust. They had escaped the bloody and futile first attack on the Giant Alien Bagelwich only by the virtue of their superior flying skills and being primary characters. Now, round about this time the Boss Hogg Aliens figgered they'd catch our boys with their overalls down, and one of their ships was chasing them.
"Harry! We need to find a way to get this Alien off our bootys!"
Like strangers in the night, Harry and Sisto exchanged glances. Harry said, "Come fly with me!"
"And without you singin' like Sinatra, I might add."
"Did I just go and spoil it all by saying something stupid? I have a Tender Trap all set up! Start spreadin' the news--We're doing it MYYYY WAY!"
"This is not a very good year for that, Harry--"
Harry put his fighter into a turn, pulling more G's than humans are allowed to have. "Ohhhh...Sisto...I feel carsick...I better roll down the window..."
"Don't! Yer goin' 1500 miles per hour, you'll put yer eye out! My mama told me that!"
Harry put his head out the cockpit window and POP! His head came off and his plane crashed.
KABOOOM!

{"YES!" shouted Moltar as he pumped his fist in the air. "YES YES YES! DIE, monster, DIE! The fact he died because he was stupid just puts the icing on the corpse! Okay, you can turn it off now."
"It ain't over till the obese diva vociferates!" said Sisto.
"What the heck was that supposed to mean?"
"Dunno. I heard Locar say it."}

"EWWWW!" Sisto said. "His head came off! But his eyes were still there. Guess even Mama don't know everything. Better fly down this canyon that's just appeared, which is odd as seconds ago I was over downtown LA." He weaved his plane between the jagged peaks as the Alien pursued. "I dunno," he mused, "Flyin' through a canyon, chased by an Alien ship, this is givin' me deja vu somethin' fierce, I wonder why..."
Sisto! Use the Force!
"Whoa! Who said that?"
Arf arf!
"Hey, it's Benji the Talkin' Dead Dog! Hooza good boy now, hooza good boy? It made me sad when you was squished there, Benji."
Yeah, well, my tail wasn't wagging either.
"Hey, why'd you always drink from the toilet?"
I come from beyond the grave to give you advice in a battle to save the Universe and THAT'S what you ask me?
"Well, it seemed so unsanitary. Can you put Lincoln on?"
What?!
"I always wondered why he grew a beard, but didn't cover up that big fat wart. I mean, it can't be easy to shave around a thing like that."
Did you even listen to a single thing I said?
"Sure, you said...ummm...I should, ah...cut some farts. Ya know, this cockpit is mighty enclosed, I don't think--"
Dammit! I know you don't think! You're an idiot! Why am I even trying to save you? You had the vet cut my balls off! *CLICK*aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
"He hung up on me!" KABOOM! KABOOM! "Oh yeah--THAT guy. Damn Aliens, they won't cut ya a break. What should I do--Hey! Down there on the floor! A perfectly good Tic Tac! Them's good eatin'!" As Sisto reached for the 1 1/2 calorie breath mint, his sleeve snagged the trunk release and a flat spare tire flew out and smashed into the Alien ship. The Alien pilot pulled up next to Sisto's jet and began screaming and giving him the finger. It was too busy swearing to notice the rocky outcrop it was about to smash into.
KABOOOM!
"Hey, stupid! Yer supposed to keep watchin' the skies!" laughed Sisto. "Hooray for me! I shot down--sorta--an Alien ship! And--oh, man! Now I'm outta gas! What a crappy day. Guess I'll land on them rocks over there."
KABOOOM!
Sisto crawled from the flaming wreckage. "Mental note to myself: Can't land on rocks."
The Alien staggered from its ship. It gestured to Sisto, waving its license and registration.
"Sure," said Sisto as he neared it. "You wanna exchange insurance information."
The Alien pulled out a cell phone and began dialing Alienstate. ("You're in 3-fingered hands with Alienstate")
Sisto took the phone from the Alien and whacked it unconscious with it. "Hey, E.T.! Dial 911!" Then he jumped. "AUUUGGHH! What's that awful barkin' noise??"
It was the audience, a-hootin' and a-hollerin' on cue at Sisto's "crowd pleaser" line that the Script Doctors had written into the film.
Sisto sighed. "And I'll bet it ain't gonna be the last."

Sisto arrived at Area 51 far quicker than one would think possible.
The Fresh Prince met him at the gate. "Sisto! We heard your jet went kaboom in Death Valley. How'd you get here?"
"By a coincidence you'd never believe, a big caravan of Okies was crossin' the desert at the same time I was turnin' into pilot jerky out there." He jumped down from their battered truck, then turned to wave farewell. "Thanks, Ma Joad!"
Her son Henry Fonda said, "Anytime a guy's draggin' an Alien carcass across the desert, I'll be there!"
"Yeah, well, I'm hopin' that was pretty much a once-inna-lifetimer fer me. See ya, Henry! Don't let your babies grow up to marry evil Southern broadcast tycoons!" Sisto did the tomahawk chop as they left. "Look, Fresh Prince! Alien!"
"Damn! You kicked its booty! We'd better drag its ugly booty to the President."
"This movie uses the word 'booty' more than a Fox Network comedy does."
"It's a 20th Century Fox movie, man."
"Well, that explains it. Hey, why don't they just call it 20th Century Booty? Instead of that MGM lion that roars, they could have this big ol' booty that--"
Fortunately, Sisto stopped as The President walked up. "Congratulations, Captain Sisto. The Area 51 geeks and weirdos--no, what's the word, umm--Scientists! They want to see your Alien."
"Hey! It's Data! 'Cept he looks like a smelly old hippie!"
"Well," said Data, "I AM a smelly old hippie. Do you think humans built the Pyramids and Stonehenge? No, it was Ancient Astronauts! Do you think the 60s just happened? No, it was Relatively Recent Astronauts!" He unlocked a vault filled with technology humans had stolen from the crashed Alien ship at Area 51. Everyone gasped as they beheld the wonders: Lava Lamps, black-lite posters, beaded curtains, granola, stinky incense, and the biggest damn bong you ever did lay eyes on.
The President was crabby. "Why didn't you tell us about this?"
"Hey, man...We forgot. Dr Leary popped the ship's glove compartment, and he found the Aliens' stash. Like, that was some heavy far-out & funky shit, brother! After that, we just followed the Dead around, making money by doing landscaping and selling home-made candles. Then like Jerry died, and we all got like wicked bummed, and like Dr Moonbeam Starchild said, 'Hey, didn't we used to be like scientists and stuff?' and we came back here after we were contacted by the Men in Black."
He pointed at the Men in Black. They were a group of pasty-faced Goth-rockers wearing too much eye makeup. One of them said, "I'm a vampire!"
"Maaa-aan!" Data shook his head. "I'm an acid casualty, what's his excuse?"
"Do you still have the crashed ship?" The President asked.
"Do we! It's what we followed the Dead in! We customized it into like the Ultimate Party Machine!" Data lead them to it and opened the door.
Sisto looked in. "Wow! Bucket seats with lambskin covers! A steering wheel shaped like a chain, and a gas pedal shaped like a bare foot! A stick shift with an 8 Ball on the top! And, mmmm!" He inhaled deeply. "The unmistakable aroma of a Playboy air freshener!"
The President said, "We may be able to use this against the Aliens. But that Partridge Family Bus paint job has got to go."
"Oh man!" groaned Data. "Can we at least leave the bumper sticker that says, 'If the Spacecraft's rockin', don't come knockin'?"

"Oh boy." said Sisto. "An Alien autopsy. How original."
Data and the hippie scientists were happy as clams as they prepared to slit the Alien open; partly because it was the one moment that their entire careers had been leading up to, but mainly because they were the only ones too stoned to see the inevitable "Alien comes to life and kills them all" scene coming from a mile away. Yep, happy as clams. Dead clams.
Data began working on the Alien with an X-acto knife and a spatula. "No vocal cords to speak of," he said. "They must communicate either through a sophisticated method of mental telepathy or be real good at Charades."
Then, at the moment you most expected it, the Alien's head swung open and a hideous lil' Alien jumped out!
"Alien jumpin' outta someone's body," yawned Sisto. "Where do they get these ideas?"
The Lil' Alien brushed off his tux and emitted its hideous cry: "Shooby-dooby doo!"
Sisto and the Fresh Prince gasped. "HARRY CONNICK THE THIRD!"
The Alien looked around nervously. "Where, where?!"
"It's not Harry, it's an unbelievable coincidence!" Data said. "These creatures must have evolved from an evil race of lounge singers!"
The President yelled, "We will not go gently into the Cocktail Nation!"
The Alien scampered back inside its head--well, not ITS head, but its HEAD--ahh, you know what I mean. The Big Cranky Alien started chasing Data around the operating table as Benny Hill music played.
"Huff, puff!" said Data as he ran. "Apparently these Aliens are two beings sharing one mind as a symbiotic lifeform!"
"Boy!" said Sisto. "Talk about yer codependent relationships!"
The Alien grabbed a handy frying pan and bashed Data's positronic brains in. Data slumped to the floor smiling. This guy had felt no pain since Woodstock.
The Alien sat down in a chair and put Data on its knee. It began working Data's mouth. "Say hello to the nice people, Data!"
"Hello, nice people!" squeaked Data in a funny voice.
"So that's how they communicate!" said The President. "Ventriloquism! Why are you attacking our planet?"
The Alien drank a glass of water as the Woozle whose name was Data yelled, "Because you're stupid minds! Stupid! STUPID!!"
"That's all I'm takin' from you!" said the President as he punched the Alien in the jaw.
The Alien wiggled its fingers and gave The President the Evil Eye.
"AAUUGGGHHH!" screamed The Prez, clawing at his temples. "IT'S IN MY BRAIN NOW!" The President began clog-dancing like a crazy person. And you know how scary that can be.
The Fresh Prince and Sisto pulled out great big guns and blowed the Alien away. Blowed him away reeeeeal good!
"I hate to use guns." said Sisto. "I usually feel pretty satisfied with the size of my penis."
The President said, "I--I saw what the Aliens have planned for us!"
Everyone leaned forward.
"They plan to kill us!"
Everyone rolled their eyes and shouted, "Well, DUU-UUHH!!"
"Maybe yer a lil' outta touch with the common folk, Mr P, but so far they ain't exactly been doin' light gardening."
"They're like locusts!" he said.
"You mean they swarm massively?"
"No, they spit green stuff--I don't know what I mean! That goddam Alien messed with my head!" The President yelled, "Nuke 'em! Nuke the bastards!"
When the first wave of hootin' and hollerin' died down, General Halftrack said, "Let's nuke the sons of bitches!" which gave the dumber members of the audience a chance to holler too, after their friends had time enough to explain that The President didn't mean he was going to put the Aliens in a microwave.
Sisto said, "I saw this in War of the Worlds! If we're gonna keep rippin' other movies off, can't we at least rip off ones with plans that worked?"
"Where are the Aliens?" The inquiring President wanted to know.
The General said, "Over Houston. And there are no people there because we evacuated a city of millions in 2 hours."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah, sure, uh-huh. Yep, pretty much. Yessirree Bob! Would the military lie?"
"Gee whillickers no!" said The President, who was a little thick.
KABOOOOM!!!
"This movie is givin' me tinntinnitus somethin' awful. Oh, and look! It didn't work! Well well well."
"Houston--on fire!" said The President. "Will history blame me--OR THE BEES?"

{Slurrp. "Was that a reference to the classic Irwin Allen stink-fest, 'The Swarm'?"
Sisto nodded. "We'd ripped off so many movies, we started runnin' outta good ones."}

The President had gathered all the surviving pilots in America together at Area 52, which was closer to the highway and had better parking than Area 51. Plus, it had a 7-11 and free HBO in every room.
"My fellow Americans! Today is the Fourth of July, which is pretty cool coincidence as this speech would make no sense if this was October 31st. After today, this will not just be an American holiday, because today--We throw our lives away in a pointless suicide attack!!"
The pilots stood silently as tumbleweeds blew over them.
Damn Aliens! thought The President. They had to kill my speechwriters!
"Men," he said, "and I call you men as there are no chicks here, we have a plan. And here is the Man behind the Plan, I want you all to give it up with a big Area 52 welcome forrrrrrrrr--JEFF GOLDBLUM!!"
"Thank you, thank you! You're too kind! Hey, where's the greatest Area in the world? I hear it's--AREA 52!!"
Everyone cheered!
"ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?"
"YEAHH!!"
"Okay! We've found a way to make the Aliens' shields go down that will seem strangely familiar if you've seen 'The Wrath of Khan.' And you know, there's a funny story involving how I thought of this. You see, I was falling down drunk, and my father, who is quite the colorful character I must say, said--"
Sisto groaned, "PLEEEEASE don't tell us he made some off-hand remark, and you said 'What did you just say? No, not that, the other part! THAT'S IT!! You're a genius! I could kiss you! This plan is so crazy, it just might work!' Man, that cliche stinks on ice!"
"Well..." Goldblum shifted his feet nervously. "It's not that funny a story. Hey, Area 52! You've been great! That's our show for tonight! But I've gotta go and get chased by some dinosaurs. Again."
"Way to go, Sisto." snapped one of the pilots. "He didn't even do 'Freebird'!"
The President returned. "Jeff Goldblum! Wasn't he great? All right, here's the plan. And if you have any questions at all, feel free to ask them. Our first objective--Yes, Captain Sisto?"
"How come when you crank a Jack-in-the-Box, it plays 'Pop Goes the Weasel,' but when somethin' pops up, it's never a weasel?"
"That's...an interesting question, Sisto. But we'd really like to keep things more focused on our life and death struggle with the Aliens. We'll need some volunteers to leave Earth and go up into space to the Alien Death Ship and--Yes, Captain Sisto?"
"Will Granma and Granpa be there?"
"Excuse me?"
"My Sunday School teacher, she said when we went to the Place in the Sky, Granma and Granpa would be there, and also Lincoln, only I wouldn't get to go if I kept bein' bad and touchin' my weiner."
"I think she was talking about 'Heaven.' We're talking about the 'Alien Death Ship'."
"Heaven is not an Alien Death Ship, gotcha. I better write that down 'fore I forget."
"Jeff gave us a computer virus that will put the Alien shields off-line. This will--Yes, Captain Sisto?"
"I ain't got no paper to write down--ah, heck. I forgot already."
"--THIS will allow us to fly up in our teeny-weeny planes and shoot eensy-weensy missiles at the 15-mile-wide Death Ships." Then The President said with a wink, "Of course, all the other nations of the world will be by our side!"
Everyone started laughing hysterically. "Yeah, RIGHT! Like any country but America can save the world! Freakin' losers! Buncha towel-heads! Foreigners are so dumb! USA, NUMBER ONE! USA, NUMBER ONE!"
The President laughed. "Settle down, boys! There'll be plenty of time for jingoistic nationalism after we've kicked the Aliens' booty! As I said, we'll need volunteers to go up to the Alien Mothership to implant the virus. This will almost certainly be a suicide mission. We have no idea what we may find on the Mothership, but--Yes, Captain Sisto?"
"Will the Aliens have..." He glanced around in fear. "...Flying Monkeys?"
"What?!"
"Them things scare the bejeezus outta me! Ever since I was a kid! Even Blip did--I mean, yeah he's cute an' all, but he's invisible! Who knows when he's gonna plop down on yer head an' start pickin' bugs off! BRRR!"
"I said we don't know! When this virus is implanted, the shields--YES, Captain Sisto?!"
"What if the Flyin' Monkeys got baseball bats with big rusty nails in 'em, and they smack you in the legs with 'em, and you try ta yell 'HEY, ev'rybuddy! Run away, cause there's flyin' monkeys in here!' but the nails give ya lockjaw, so you only go 'MMM! MMM!' and everyone says, 'Hey, sounds like ol' Sisto's eatin' somethin' mighty tasty! Them Aliens must be servin' pie!' and they come a-runnin' to get some, cause they know what a pig I am and'll eat it all if I get the chance, but instead of apple pie a la mode or pecan pie with Cool Whip they find a big smelly room fulla monkeys and they go 'AAAUUGGHH! Monkeys, Monkeys, Monkeys Galore!' and the monkeys fly around and rub dishwashing liquid in everyones' eyes and OWW!! Mr President! The Fresh Prince hit me! Make him stop!"
"The shields--WHAT NOW? WHAT?!"
"Mind you, clowns don't exactly rock me to sleep either."
The President spoke through gritted teeth. "The volunteers for the suicide mission will be the next squadron with a member who opens his big fat mouth. The shields--"
"Ho boy! Sure hate to be in that sap's shoes!"

Sisto and the Fresh Prince were headed out on their suicide mission."It's bad enough we're gonna die," said the Prince, "but we have to go up in a damn hippie ship with only an 8 track player! Turn it off! This music isn't def or phat or even remotely close to being Da Bomb!"
"All yer taste is in yer...wherever that thing is." Sisto sang along: " 'Oh, it must be--Muskrat Luuu-uuu-uuuv!!' No one rocks my world like th' Captain and Tennille! Ya know, seein' that we're onna suicide mission, I woulda thought they'da given us a better last meal. Them lil' finger sammiches, they're like eatin' air. Hey! Them hippies got one of them mini-fridgerators here." He opened the door, then gasped in amazement. "I've never seen so many soy products in one place before! I hope they got them lil' soy hot dogs--Oh, ain't this typical? Tofu Pups, yes, but a grill? No. Hippies, they got no organizational skills."
"We're at the right coordinates, but where's the Death Ship? All I see is that small moon."
"That's no moon--it's a space station! A veritable Death Star, ya might say if you was so inclined." Sisto hit the Stanley electric garage door opener to access the Death Ship's landing bay. "Open the pod bay doors, Alf!" He waited impatiently for the hootin' to die down. "These people will hoot at anything."
They cruised up the immense ship's main drag, passing three strip malls and a Denny's.
"Look down there! There must be millions of Aliens standing in line! They must be getting ready for the final invasion!"
Sisto turned and said

(cue sweet & lovely Muzak version of "Welcome to the Jungle")
Hello! WELCOME to all of you in the audience from all of us here at R&D/H&H (Research & Development for Hootin' & Hollerin')! Come join us in the exciting modern world of Hollywood Product! Today, movies can cost tens of millions of dollars, and one box office disaster can ruin a studio. The surest cure? Why, that's us! With our innumerable test screenings and armies of script doctors, we can fine-tune every line of a movie, making sure it's a guaranteed thrill-ride and crowd-pleaser! And also as safe and bland and mindless as Gerber Baby Chow. Insuring the Industry's bottom-line profitability makes a good entertainment investment, and the only cost is creativity and an endless mass-produced line of identical movies! Did I say movies? I meant Product.
Our greatest challenge has been the sad fact that not everyone hoots & hollers at the same lines! Soon we will be giving you, the movie-going public, a battery of personality tests to determine what your "hot buttons" are. Then it's a simple matter of giving you your own personal headphones and sending you a computer-generated soundtrack especially geared to your tastes! Everyone will hear a different version of the same movie! As a test, please choose what Sisto's quip should be from this list our computer has chosen.
1. Either that, or they're standing in line for Pearl Jam tickets!
2. These theme parks never have enough bathrooms!
3. Payback's a bitch!
4. C is for Cookie! That's good enough for me!
5. Revenge is a dish best served cold! Or am I thinking of gaspacho?
6. Package shipped by weight, not volume! Some settling of contents may have occured!
7. BOOTY BOOTY BOOTY!
8. None of the above.
We thank you! Except those who chose '8'. There's no room in American culture for loose cannons like you, screwing up our demographic base. When this system is live, you will receive a short, sharp shock to make sure you never do it again, dig it? Like this! ZZZZZZZT! Hah! Didn't like THAT, did you! Here's one on the house! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT! AHHH HAHAHAHA! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZT! FOOLISH HUMANS! ONE DAY WE SHALL RULE YOUR PUNY PLANET!

Sisto was playing with a Duncan Imperial yoyo, trying to "walk the dog" but mainly discovering a new kind of knot. The Fresh Prince was drinking an Evian.
"I thought you rappers only drank malt liquor," joked Sisto.
The Prince laughed. "Yo, don't start that shit with me, Sisto!"
"Hey, what really did happen to DJ Jazzy Jeff? Did he become Urkel?"
"Last I saw him, he was in a KFC, wearing a hairnet and passing out the extra-crispy, talking about the big comeback he was planning with Marky Mark and Vanilla--DAMN! The movie's started again! Nice of that jerk director to tell us!"
They ran across the soundstage to the ship set. Sisto said, "I knew it was a bad sign when the director changed his name to Alan Smithee before he'd even finished the picture."
They took their marks, and the Fresh Prince flipped through the script. "OK, Sisto's quip, we connect our ship to a gantry and can't get it free, Prince says: We're ready to download the virus! All I have to do is click this button and--"