Previously in Keith A—‘s Sonic the Hedgehog fan fiction Altered Destiny? Author-turned-protagonist-turned-raccoon-named-Chris has got a computer in his arm, a guitar on his arm, and a girlfriend named Rebecca who got beaten up pretty badly during a raid on Robotropolis. With nothing to do but wait for her to recover, he’s playing the guitar.
This is the final segment of fan fiction! Next week is a host sketch to wrap things up. The entirety of my Mystery Science Theater 3000 fan fiction should appear at this link. And there’ll be a couple notes at the end of this piece, too..
>
> Bookshire’d nearly cried when he heard that.
>Reflecting later, he figured that the song was more for him,
CROW: Since he believed he was the center of the universe anyway.
>considering its content. Anyway, sometimes Bookshire had
>him doing small chores for him,
JOEL: But he couldn’t get Chris to paint his house.
> like changing her IV bag,
>getting water, little things like that.
TOM: You know. Medical stuff.
> He thought it would
>be good if Chris got off the chair every now and then. Poor
>guy had only slept maybe four hours in the past week.
JOEL: Indirect quotations can be a good way to move a story along.
TOM: Yeah, but this is indirect narrative.
> The
>coffee cups piled around his chair were testimony to that
>fact. Every now and then other villagers would come in and
>visit, talking to Chris,
TOM: Howl at the moon a little…
> offering words of assurance, and in
>general making sure he was all right. He would constantly
CROW: Distract them by asking if they wanted to go for walkies.
>reply that he was fine, it was her that needed to be prayed
>for.
JOEL: May the spirit of Chuck Jones watch over them.
> Most of the villagers began to understand just how
>much she meant to him.
TOM: It was like the only reason she was in this story was to be his girlfriend.
JOEL: Don’t break the reality now.
>
> On the eighth day, Rebecca awoke. Well, not like that.
CROW: Actually, she stayed asleep.
>First she’d sucked in a gasping breath. Then her eyelids
>fluttered open, and the first thing she saw was her
>boyfriend,
TOM: And later she saw Chris.
> head buried in her chest, crying. "Wh-what’s
>wrong, Chris?" He raised his head
ALL: AAAH!
> and looked into her eyes.
>"Nothing. I’m just so relieved… I thought you were gone
>for good.
CROW: Uh…I already moved all my stuff into your room…
> I love you, Rebecca." Though it was a great
>effort, she raised her arm and laid it on her head. "I love
>you too, Chris.
TOM: Hey, something or other was making this awful music-like noise all week; could you find out what it is and stop it?
> Thank you for being there with me." He
>sniffled. "I promised, didn’t I?
JOEL: Yeah, just in time to have to live up to that promise, too.
> I always make good on my
>promises." Bookshire came over. "Right now, Chris, I think
>it’s best if you went home and got some sleep.
CROW: Now that there’s some emotional payoff to the vigil.
> You’ve been
>awake for a week straight. She’s fine now,
TOM: All medical problems vanish when you just wake up again.
> I can take it
>from here. Go on, you need your sleep. You can come back
>after you’ve rested."
JOEL: When she’s had the chance to slip back into unconsciousness.
>
> Chris nodded, and stood up. "I guess you’re right."
CROW: Way to keep that promise not to leave her side.
>He looked at himself. "I think I need a shower, too.
TOM: And the entire village thanks him.
>Well," he knelt down and kissed Rebecca’s forehead. "I’ll
>be back later, dear. Don’t go anywhere, okay?" She smiled.
>"I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, honey.
CROW: "Last month some nice fellows from the National Park Service put a radio-transmitter collar on me."
> Go
>on, you look like you were up for a week." Remembering what
>Bookshire had said, she suddenly became serious.
JOEL: Hey! You’ve been awake for 179 hours and 43 minutes!
> "You were,
>weren’t you? You didn’t leave my side for a week! Dear
>Destiny,
TOM: Won’t you come out to play?
> you really meant it! Out! Leave! Get some sleep!
>I order you to sleep for two days straight!"
>
> Chris chuckled.
CROW: Would you want me to use my super-brain to psychically heal your wounds for you?
TOM: Hey!
JOEL: Yeah, cookie to Tom.
> "Allright, ‘Becca, I’ll go. Just
>promise me you’ll still be here when I’m up?"
CROW: [ As Rebecca, sharply ] "I’m not planning to flee the moment your back is turned!"
>
> "I promise. Now, go!" He turned and headed out, still
>chuckling.
JOEL: It is funny, isn’t it?
TOM: What?
JOEL: You know, the funny stuff.
> Rebecca turned to Bookshire. "He really does
>love me, doesn’t he?" Bookshire’s face grew wistful.
CROW: The term is ‘codependence.’
> "More
>than you may ever know, Rebecca. That boy would give his
>life for you. I’m sure of it."
JOEL: But what do I know?
>
>End.
CROW: Yay!
TOM: Woo-hoo!
>
>Well? What did you think?
JOEL: Too many words.
> Since it’s my first attempt at a
>fanfic,
CROW: You don’t say?
> you can be sure that they’ll get better.
TOM: We can only hope so.
> Trust me,
>a lot of hair-pulling came about as a result of trying to
>finish this story.
JOEL: You too, huh?
> Still, I think I rather did a good job.
TOM: In a very restricted sense of the word ‘good,’ but…
>
>Questions?
CROW: Why does "Sonic the Hedgehog" get all these fanfics?
> Comments? Flames? Movie contracts?
TOM: The tragic thing is it’s too well written to become a movie these days.
> Job
>offers?
CROW: We’ll get back to you.
> E-mail me at bA—@ix.netcom.com.
>
JOEL: [ Picking up TOM ] We’ll keep that in mind.
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[ To conclude … ]
Please don’t cut yourself on my razor-sharp indictment of movies these days 25 years ago. Not sure anything else needs explaining … oh, well, “codependency” it turns out isn’t a thing. It doesn’t have a clear definition or scientific research showing it exists and it’s never been recognized as a psychological disorder and when you consider some of the stuff that was, wow. If word of this leaks to Mary Worth the world will never be the same!
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Another Blog, Meanwhile 
> Still, I think I rather did a good job.
Tom: Yea,we rather you had done a good job, also.
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Well, Robotnik would rather he didn’t do any kind of job at all, why don’t we ever consider his feelings in the matter?
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