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Weekend Discussion Thread: Your MSTie FuneralAlert regular Timmy writes:
Me, I want the Angels’ Revenge Peter Lawford end: Float me face down in the pool with a glass of bourbon in my hand. What would your request be? 78 Replies to “Weekend Discussion Thread: Your MSTie Funeral”Commenting at Satellite News
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I’d have the Del Aires (Horror at Party Beach) play at my wake, then have Batwoman call me up from the other side so I can chat with all the well-wishers who showed up to remember me….
I’d want my lifeless body to be eaten by the Creeping Terror and have Joe Estevez walk around with a green glow ring bragging about how he took my soul.
Two words: Henry Krasker
I’ll have the whole thing in the underground kingdom of Atlantis like in Alien from LA, and at the end of the sermon a surprise visit from Joe Estevez who will walk slowly up to my open casket to take my soul.
I want a eulogy given by Timothy Van Patten (“She wab a greab wady”), then a dance party much like the one in the Creeping Terror. What with all the repetitive music and drinking and lack of decorations, I’m sure there wouldn’t be a dry eye in the place.
I want a video playing on loop of Judi Reding’s floating head saying “Tom Stewart killed me”! :shock:
Weenie Roast!!!
I would donate my body to the medical school from Ring of Terror to help train a new generation of middle aged students. I would want Puma to stand guard, in case some frat boy tries to steal my gold ring.
Killed by the boggy creek creature while changing a tire and then having lots of blurry flashbacks so everyone would remember me.
If I was dead for sure, I’d like to be eaten by Mike Pipper and have my bones interred near Larry Csonka.
If there was any question, I would hope that Kalgon would just put me on ice.
I’d have a regular funeral, but would show up alive and well on the bridge of the ship right afterwards.
I have always said that I’ve wanted a Viking funeral with my fellow Grimauld warriors placing my carcass in a boat on the river, lighting it on fire, and sending it sailing off to Valhalla. Of course, this would all be to the strains of Toobular Boobular Joy for no reason except that it seems weirdly appropriate.
I’m not sure about the actual ceremony/service but it would have to be low key and sombre so Tony Cardoza would say a few words about me and coffee in particular. It would end with Dick Contino and the boys from Daddy-O performing a rousing rendition of “This Old House”. Then the the mourners would come outside to see my face in the sky as I give my final message, “Flag on the mooooooon…….” as my face faded away leaving everyone confused instead of sad.
Any MSTie funeral would be incomplete without the MST3K end credits theme being played at some point.
Give me my TV’s Frank
And when he dies cut him into tiny stars and he shall make the sky so fine, people shall fall in love with the night and pay no heed to the garish sun
Amen
In other words, I don’t want a funeral, I just want to be assumed into heaven by Torgo himself. <3
Instead of being taken by a hearse, my coffin would be transported by MEGAWEAPON.
I want a railroad employee to stand over my casket and ask, “Why didn’t he look?”.
I want someone to shoot my corpse in the butt and then immediately ensure I’m immolated.
Just like Sartoris.
oh… nothing fancy for me.
maybe have my casket placed on a tastefully done carriage pulled through town by the earth v. spider…spider, the deadly mantis and one of the beginning of the end grasshoppers. at least until they began to fight and eat each other. then have tor carry me to the grave and drop me in. get paul anka to sing some songs about being lonely. or maybe chase winsteadt sing ‘i sing when i sing when i sing.’ have peter graves do my….biography. cap it off with buzz and his trumpet doing ‘flight of the bubble heads’ as gamera and the starfighters do a fly over. torgo would of course cater the affair. later that night diabolik would dig me up and steal my gold fillings. one of the many mad scientists would want to reanimate for some hellish purpose. maybe not.
Oh, mine would start out normal. But then…
“Suddenly, there was no funeral! There was no bier, no casket, no corpse called Bookworm to be mourned.”
Everyone would mill around in confusion. Then would come the telegraph: I’d be found, alive and well, drifting in a lifeboat thousands of miles away, with no memory of where I’d been.
I have left instructions that char broiled hamburger sandwiches with French fry potatoes garnish be served at my wake.
I would want my gravestone to have my final words… “There’s… a roast… in the… oven.”
My eulogy, read in all seriousness:
“He learned almost too late that man is a feeling creature… and because of it, the greatest in the universe. He learned too late for himself that men have to find their own way, to make their own mistakes. There can’t be any gift of perfection from outside ourselves. And when men seek such perfection… they find only death… fire… loss… disillusionment… the end of everything that’s gone forward. Men have always sought an end to the toil and misery, but it can’t be given, it has to be achieved. There is hope, but it has to come from inside, from Man himself.”
Oh, and my headstone would of course note that I tampered in God’s domain.
If they play a video montage of pictures from my life, I would like the soundtrack of the end of the montage to be the closing credits theme from the show, with a fadeout after the final twang.
My body would be put in a baggie while the priest tells the audience that I’m “going to America”. That really means I’ll be used for parts for the person I was cloned from.
Funny this should be the topic this weekend, as Richard Corliss, of Time Magazine, passed this past week at 71. He was one of the first people to praise MST3K nationally, and a big MSTie himself. RIP
I wish to be frozen by Jack Frost’s magic scepter. *DING*
And put on display for several days at the Corn Palace!
I would have the preacher from Last Clear Chance give the eulogy, that is if he can stand the looks of sadness on the faces of those who weren’t even there. Hopefully his congregation of horribly scared and maimed parishioners will learn to hate accidents just a little more.
A Space Mutiny-esque Viking funeral.
My remains will be sent across the deck in an enforcer only to collide with a second enforcer driven by a beefy guy who screams like a girl. The ensuing explosion consumes my remains. The beefy guy leaps to safety…I guess…
At my funeral, I would like the following;
Music
Little Richard (on Goofballs)
Robert Easton Choir (Amazing Grace)
Speakers
Trash’s Father “WHY THE HELL DID LEAVE DA BRONX!?”
Aunt Flavia “He was such a treeeaaasuuure.”
Roger Grimes “Who’s da Worm Face NOW?”
Bar
Ev Kester
Caterer
Ortega
Pallbearers
El Santo, Prince of Space, Batwoman, Hank Johnson, Krankor and Mr B.
At my funeral, Peter Graves will recite his monologue from IT CONQUERED THE WORLD, five times. Tom Stewart will provide the music (“jazz” piano), and the Fire Maidens of Outer Space will dance around my grave.
First you get Nick to loan you his Time Chasers plane (turns out he kept a copy of the six floppy disks)
and get a few extras versions of yourself. Then one of those is unfortunately killed off (probably by a crashed plane
dropping on it). On the bright side, after the unfortunate demise there’s lots of pineal gland juice available. Use the new, improved version
for longterm regeneration—step away so the golden rays don’t adversely effect any of your traveling Companions).
But don’t neglect to attend the funeral for the unfortunate, deceased copy, which will hopefully be an Irish wake, not one of
Mike’s Presbyterian and/or ape descendants more somber ones.
Funeral procession lead by Goosio!
No funeral comments, just an observation. I think MSTie people are the cleverest, most hilarious people out there. Your comments often bring tears to my eyes (in a good way). My occasional comments are puny in comparison. I cannot keep up with the experts. Checking out the site each day guarantees to put me in a great mood. Thanks to all.
I can also imagine there being no funds for my funeral, so maybe the philosophical cop from THE SINISTER URGE will muse (over my dead body), “maybe he grew up in that moment of truth.” Zing!
As in the Gunfighter segment, I still like Servo’s idea of a jazzy death march segueing into the Family Affair theme.
I want to be mummified and buried next to Stalin.
Failing that, as long as I’m already dead just let me float away into space like Jim Pruett and Makonnen, with a voiceover of his “Good and Beautiful” speech.
I want my body to be pressure-treated in a gas tube for its arrival to Metaluna, where it will be left on the ground to be devoured by the Metaluna mutants, thereby continuing the circle of life
Like my Mom & Dad, I’m really not one for funerals and viewings and such. Once I’m gone, just hand my remains over to the transplant surgeons (I’m an organ donor). Then, put what’s left into one of the escape pods and auger that baby in!
“I LOVE YOU, CROOOOOOOOOOW!!”
(Feel free to have a wake later on, though, once it’s convenient.)
I hope that I will be remembered for taking the time to fix my attention on the good and the beautiful every year of my life, which I grow more and more convinced is the wisest and the best.
In all seriousness, when I die, I want the Mighty Science Theater theme (the end credits song) to play as they lower my body and casket into the ground. There’s something very mournful but also very uplifting about that song, I decided long ago that I wanted it played at my funeral.
Steve K (#3) wins.
Can’t top that.
I’m waiting to watch Screaming Skull, because supposedly I’ll die of fright and then I can receive my free coffin!
:snicker: :snicker: :snicker: :snicker: :snicker: :snicker: :snicker: :snicker: :snicker: :snicker:
Though I’m not Catholic, I’d want a priest that looked as much like the Chief from Get Smart as possible.
If I’m cremated, I want my ashes spread from Petey the Plane.
If buried, I want this on my tombstone: “He was weird, and that resulted in creativity”
I want the works – non-stop dancing girls from Moon City, Seatopia, and the Red Dog Saloon, celebrity mourners like Godzilla and Hamlet (security in the capable hands of Adam Chance), Troxartes as Master of Ceremonies, entire production supervised by Jackie Gleason.
And of course giant ducks at the afterparty.
At which I show up, alive and (mostly) well – turns out I just had a real bad case of grizzled old prospector syndrome. Yep.
I want to be cremated and have my ashes thrown in the faces of those who’ve wronged me.
Nothing too MST3K there, I’m afraid, but I like the line.
I want to be ascended into whatever the equivalent of heaven is in Puma Man’s religion. Maybe that giant glowing orb spaceship can come take me home!
I would like to be creamated, but it would take a lot of cream. :chic:
Quite the cheerful topic. I had an idea for an MST themed funeral, but The Master would not approve.