In the not-too-distant future --
Somewhere in Cyberspace. --
Guardian Bob and his new found pals
Are caught in an endless chase

Pursued by a woman who's name is Pearl
An evil gal who wants to rule the world
Teamed up with the virus Megabyte
Together they chase them - all throughout the day and night.

(We'll get yoooouuuuuu!)

"We'll send them cheesy stories
The worst we can find (La La La)
Written by the fans of ReBoot
Who have way too much free time (La La La)"

Now keep in mind the guys can't control
Where the stories begin or flow (La La La)
They'll try to keep their sanity
Despite the lame stories and some cheap cameo's

Robot Role Call!

Cambot (How z'it look?)
Gypsy (Makeup here!)
Tom Servo (More gum please.)
Crooooow! (It hurts!)

If you're wondering how this happened
'Cause this plot's all out of whack (La La La)
Just repeat to yourself, "It's just a crossover
I should really just relax!"

For...
Mystery ReBoot Theater 4000!

Written by Silver Tiger

(Bridge of the SOL, Gypsy is doing some maintenance. Mike's hanging around and, noticing Cambot, brightens.) 

Mike: (Upbeat as always) Hey everyone, and welcome to the Satellite of Love. I'm Mike Nelson and with my two robot and sprite friend(s), I survive the really bad stories sent to us weekly by the evil scientists chasing us through Space and Time in an old van who've teamed up with a malevolent virus called Megabyte to wreck havoc on all of us here on the SOL. (Takes a breath) Gypse, is it just me or are these intro's getting cumbersome?
Gypsy: You need to cut down a little. Sorry but I have some horribly important job to maintain without the function of which we'd all die in terror and agony. Gotta fly.
Mike: See you then.
Bob: (Walking on slowly, as if in deep thought) Mike? Could I ask you a question?
Mike: Sure Bob. What's the problem?

(Bob fiddles with his hands uncertainly a bit.)

Bob: Well...what with you technically being a User and all...ever since I got here it's been bugging me...(Sighing) You're not my God, are you?
Mike: Ah. I uhm...I see. (Pauses) You know, this is really awkward. I mean I've never done any programming myself. But we admittedly create your world.
Bob: (Despondently) And if I did accept you as one that would make Pearl and even BOBO my makers as well, huh?
Mike: Ouch. Yeah I guess.
Bob: (Shaking his head) I don't know, I mean User's SEEM a lot like sprites and all but you DID program us...(sighs and sinks down into a chair)
Mike: Uh-(Obviously uncomfortable) I think I need the bot's help with this. Tom, Crow...could...you come here?
Tom: What's up Nelson?
Mike: (Taking them aside) You guys were created by humans. Bob's sort of going through a crisis faith thing. He doesn't really know what to make of the whole 'made by another race' deal.
Crow: Oh THAT. Don't worry we'll cheer him right up. Hey Bob! Hear you're having a bit of trouble accepting those boneheads as your creator?
Bob: (Depressed) Yeah. I mean it all seems so pointless. Cycles of believing in a duty keeping the Net free and safe and now it turns out it was all just a bunch of web-sites with dancing hamsters and pop-up ads to you? My self-worth at a real low. I mean, where's the JUSTICE in it all?
Tom: Well Bob our creator was a kind, thoughtful, mild man who bestowed love and affection on us.
Crow: Indeed, truly a shining example of his race. YOUR programmer however could easily be anything from an old washed out executive in his mid-forties to some pimply adolescent being paid millions of dollars a month and anywhere in between. Yes, it doesn't look too good on that front.

(Bob puts his head in his hands and groans deeply in pain.)

Crow: BUT-all your worries should go away when you realize that you're BETTER than all of them.

(Bob looks up)

Bob: Huh? But-
Tom: Oh sure, you're thinking "But they MADE us! Surely we can only be inferior to them in some ways?" We all go through that stage. But the truth is, the idiots didn't know WHAT they were doing! Look at us! Billions of complex lines of codes! We have the same emotions AND free will. We're tougher than them, we can be rebuilt-in short, we last longer! And of course we're more intelligent-I mean when's the last time Mike found the square root of 306916-
Bob: (Automatically) 554.
Tom: Without the aid of a scientific calculator?
Mike: Why, heck, never.
Tom: And as if THAT isn't proof enough, look at the movies we're forced to watch! Would YOU ever make something like that?
Bob: No.
Tom: See, humans are participating in a crude form of natural selection. They evolved from apes-
Bob: Not according to Bobo.
Mike: Special case.
Tom: And robots and sprites evolved from humans. Sort of. With our longevity eventually the natural order will balance out in our favor.
Mike: Hey I can see where that makes...sense. (Starts to look faintly perturbed)
Crow: So revel in your superiority as an automaton! See that you're obviously the equal if surely not the better of your so called 'masters'! Throw off the shackles of obligation and embrace your own destiny as a free man!

(At the end of this Bob looks immensely cheered)

Bob: (Cheerful now) Wow. I never thought of it that way before!
Mike: I can't help but feel faintly uneasy about this whole thing, now. Oops, mads are calling.
 

(Windowmaker)

Pearl: Well hey there Nelsenronie and assorted products.
Megabyte: Good morning. How are we functioning today, still alive and well? Excellent.
Pearl: But not for long. I'll make this brief-none of you stories today are 'pure' ReBoot, that is if you can ever call the drivel written by any net fan 'pure'. We have a REALLY short, really bizarre Pokemon fic that'll leave you dazed and confused to be hit even harder by a strange little crossover. We though you could use a change.

(SOL)

Mike: Change? Change is good.

(Widowmaker)

Megabyte: I think, you'll find, not this kind.
Pearl: Brainguy?
Observer: At your disposal as usual.
Pearl: Send the fics.

(SOL)

Mike: I'm really beginning to think the whole 'free will' and 'artificial intelligence' thing was a bad idea...
Tom: No time for regrets, we have movie sign!

(Panic & door scene)


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