Disclaimer: To avoid getting kicked out of Fanfictionland, there is no actual "MSTing" in this story. Only the characters are involved; I won't include any movie segments though I'd very much like to. Don't own Star Trek or Mystery Science Theater 3000. Paramount and Best Brains do, respectively. Me? I own myself. Capisce? I dunno nothin' about the science of Star Trek or any science at all really, so I'm basically gonna make up a bunch of stuff to make my thin little plotline work. Takes place for the Trekkies sometime during the first five-year mission. For the MSTies, during the years Mike was host and Dr. F and Frank were still in charge. Enjoy!

In The Very Distant Future

Chapter 1: Rogue Wormholes and Aliens from the Broiler

Kirk, McCoy, and Spock cringed at the flash of bright light, all three covering their eyes from the blaze. A strange whirring sound accompanied by heavy vibrations tore through them, and they were carried away from the planet's surface.

When the three of them opened their eyes, they were on a small bridge aboard some sort of spacecraft, face to face with a man in a teal jumpsuit next to two robots. One was of a gold color with some sort of beak for a mouth and web in the back of his head, and the other resembled a red twentieth century gumball machine with a hover skirt attached. All three of this strange group emitted a "GAA-ah!" at the sudden apparition of the two humans and one Vulcan.

"What the--!" the bejumpsuited man sputtered.

"Well, this doesn't happen every day," replied the gold robot nonchalantly. "Now who's for lunch?"

"Crow, no," the gumbot admonished.

Recovering from his initial shock, the blond human laughed nervously and turned to his guests. "Heh heh...uh...what can I do for ya? Heh heh..."

"Spock, what the hell happened?" Kirk demanded harshly, not taking his eyes away from the three strange specters before him.

Expertly controlling his bewilderment, Spock turned to his tricorder. "It appears, Captain, that while exploring the planet's surface, we were randomly targeted by a rogue wormhole--"

"Rogue wormhole?" the robot apparently called "Crow" interrupted.

"Yeah, unlike those tasteful wormholes who play by the rules," responded the gumball one, inciting a high-pitched giggle from his companion.

"Guys, keep it down," shushed the blond human, before turning back to the others.

Confused by the exchange, Spock nevertheless continued with his explanation. "--which sent us hurtling through time and space to precisely 1994...we are currently orbiting above Earth aboard a crude satellite."

"1994?" asked Kirk, incredulity on his face.

"That's crazy, Spock! Earth could build satellites by 1994, but not for humans to live in without any sort of oxygen suit! And what about the robots!" McCoy exclaimed.

"Ah, I believe I can explain that," the blond human delicately interjected. "You see, my robot friends--Crow T. Robot here--"

"Hi."

"And Tom Servo--"

"Hello!"

"Were created by a man named Joel Robinson, actually. He created them to keep him company while forced by mad scientists Dr. Clayton Forrester and TV's Frank to watch awful movies until driven mad."

"You see," interrupted Servo, "Joel was a bit of an electronics guy at Gizmonics Institute located above Deep 13, where the Mads work--"

"I'd say more of a custodian," added Crow.

"Mmmm, no, he definitely worked with electronics," Servo responded.

"But, you know! 'He did a good job cleaning up the place'..."

"Yeah, but--"

"Guys, this isn't really relevant to the story," the somewhat irate blond human hurried them.

"Oh! Yeah, right," they said in unison.

"Well, eventually, Dr. Forrester decided it would be a really great idea to strand Joel in space and force him to watch cruddy movies and whichever one finally broke the poor dope's mind would be the one to subject on the world and thus take it over," Servo continued.

"Yeah, and because Joel is really smart, he was able to use extra parts around the ship to make us. 'Course, without those parts the dummy couldn't tell when the movies began or ended, but I'm not complaining," said Crow.

"Uh-huh. Eventually, though, Joel was able to escape the SOL --Satellite of Love--by using an escape pod hidden inside a box of hamdingers, and so the Mads then chose me--I'm Mike Nelson by the way, hi--because I was working as a Temp in Deep 13 at the time."

"And that pretty much brings us up to speed," concluded Servo.

"Yeah," said Crow. All three stood waiting for the three strangers' reactions, Nelson wearing a pleasant smile and nodding amiably.

The commanding officers of the Enterprise were...confused.

"Dr...Forrester? Spock, do you know anything about a Dr. Clayton Forrester?" asked a very mystified Kirk to his first officer.

Spock was finding it hard to adapt to robots who spoke with human-like voices with human mannerisms. The unusually calm and cheerful demeanor of this Nelson also unnerved him. He cleared his throat. "Not to my recollection, Captain."

"Oh, well...I guess Dr. Forrester doesn't take over the world then," Mike said, laughing softly and shrugging.

Remembering his duty as Captain, to always endeavor to turn a strange situation into a normal one, Kirk straightened his posture and addressed the crew of the SOL. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. This is my first officer Spock and Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy. We are from the 23rd century. We're lost. We were exploring an uncharted planet when a wormhole took us here. With your cooperation, we are going to attempt to return to our own time."

"Uhhhhhhh...okay," assented Mike obligingly.

"When does this Forrester force you to watch these 'cruddy movies' of yours?" inquired McCoy.

"Oh, actually, the Mads just summoned us before you arrived. We should be getting a signal from Cambot anytime now," said Mike.

"Cambot?" asked Spock, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, he's one of the other robots. He records everything around here."

"How many more robots are there?" questioned Spock.

"Just him and Gypsy. Gypsy basically runs the entire ship," explained Mike.

"Nice ears by the way," said Servo appreciatively.

"Yeah! Where can I get some?" asked an eager Crow.

The two robots zeroed in on Spock, examining his pointed ears.

Unused to compliments about his Vulcan attributes, Spock shifted uncomfortably before replying. "You do not get them. I am part Vulcan."

"Huh? You're related to a Roman God?" asked a perplexed Servo.

"Ooh! Or are you related to the people who make the broilers and cheesemelters?" asked Crow. This notion seemed to strike a chord with the two bots, who murmured excitedly and moved closer to Spock, who was surprised at such an illogical display from two machines.

"Boys, I think he means he's an alien," chuckled Nelson. "And Vulcan is a brand name, not the name of the actual people who manufacture the broilers."

"He is correct," Spock said.

"Wow!" cried Crow at Spock's statement. "It's true, then! It's a brand name!"

"What I meant was--" Spock said in an uncharacteristically awkward display.

"I wouldn't bother," Mike said, placing a light hand on Spock's shoulder.

"But how do you all breathe aboard here?" asked an impatient McCoy. Too much jibber-jabber from this bunch, he decided.

"Oh, relax," Servo said, "Joel or Gypsy or the Mads or somebody arranged all that. Who cares!"

"Ah! Speaking of whom," Mike said, indicating the blinking light in front of him, "Here's Zeppo and Gummo calling now."

TBC