This fanfic is a parody of a scene of the Quantum Leap episode Star Light, Star Bright. This is the episode where Sam leaps into an old guy who believes he has seen a UFO. This parodies the scene where Sam is being interrogated by two men from the government under sodium pentathol. Quantum Leap does not belong to me, but was created by Donald Bellisario. This is written solely for entertainment purposes. No profit was obtained from this parody. Do not repost anywhere without the permission of the author!
Spam Butthead: Sam Beckett
Nerd: Government psychologist. Pretty much like the name indicates.
Major Caramon Majere: Army major in cahoots with Nerd.
Alley Catti-brie: Al Calavicci, Spam's invisible friend who has a lot to say, and yet not a single line in the play.
Stodgy: son of Spam (leaped in guy) has a problem, just haven't decided what it is yet.
Whacked Out: Stodgy's son. Decent, just looks like he's on drugs.
NERD: Okay, let's start with something simple. What is your name?
SPAM: Simple?! You call that simple?! That's one of the most complex questions you could have asked me.
CARAMON: How can a name be complex?
NERD: Shut up, you butthead. (to Spam) Just tell us your name.
SPAM: Which one?
NERD: You're going to make this hard, aren't you? (Spam smiles and nods.) I want your real name, not an alias.
SPAM: Okay, you're not gonna believe this. The name is Butthead. Dr. Spam Butthead, and don't wear it out. Also, don't use it to call someone bad names. Only I can do that because it's my name, you butthead.
CARAMON: You think you're pretty smart, don't you?
SPAM: Think? I don't think it, I *know* it. I have more PhD's to my name than you could think of, and I also have something else you don't have, Major.
CARAMON: What's that?
SPAM: A brain!
NERD: Okay, enough of that, you two. Now I have another question for you. What is your date of birth?
SPAM: (laughing) Oh, ho, another fun one. 8/8/53.
CARAMON: 8, 8, 53? He asked for your date of birth, not your telephone number.
SPAM: Sorry, I don't give out my number to idiots.
NERD: I think that *was* his date of birth, Major.
CARAMON: Did you give him a little too much, sir? First of all he tells us he's a genuine butthead, then he tell you he's thirteen years old.
NERD: Why, Major, you shock me. You can actually add. But, in answer to your question. To get a truthful answer, you'd have to give me the serum, because you wouldn't believe the truth otherwise. (turning to Spam) I want to know who your parents are, your social security number, and anything else like that, and I don't want any backtalk. You got that?
SPAM: Of course. I do understand the English language, as well as French, Spanish, Italian...well, let's just say almost everything except for Russian. And I never said I was thirteen; I said I was born in 1953.
CARAMON: Just answer the question.
SPAM: Fine. My father is Jean-Luc Picard Cocker Spaniel Butthead, and my mother is Thelma-&-Louise Butthead. My social security number is 123-45-6789, and my secret pass number is 20-BEAM-1994-ME-112475-UP-2112-NOW-1001-SCOTTY-90125-NCC-1701-D, and my super-ultra-top-secret project is called Hide-N-Seek.
CARAMON: I don't understand, sir. Can you explain it to me?
NERD: I think I need it explained to me first.
SPAM: (looking other way) Why did I tell them? I had no choice! (pause) Oh, do you really think I want to tell these two idiots anything? (another pause) Yes, I care about history as much as you do, Al, it's just that when a person is under a truth serum there isn't really much he can do about it. I can't really well lie, you know. (pause) Whether I usually lie or not is beside the point. I'm not goody two-shoes all the time.
CARAMON: (to Nerd) Is he talking to someone, because, if he is, he really is insane.
NERD: (to Spam) Dr. Butthead, are you talking to someone?
SPAM: Yes, I am. You.
NERD: No, I don't mean Major Majere or myself. Are you talking to someone named Al?
SPAM: No, actually, I'm arguing with someone named Alley Catti-brie, but I call him Al for short. (looking other direction again) He asked me. (pause) Excuse me, Al, for revealing your existence, but I am not God. (another pause, then in annoyance) If you don't know of any way to help me, then why don't you just shut up until you do. You know, contrary to popular belief, I am not perfect.
NERD: (clearing his throat) Um, Dr. Butthead, how about talking to me? (Spam turns his head back) That's better. Now, Dr. Butthead, do you actually see somebody there?
SPAM: What are you, deaf? Yes, I see somebody there, and before you go and make any assumptions, I see somebody there because there is somebody there. You just can't see him.
NERD: And just why is it that I can't see him? Is he connected to the UFO's? Is he one of the aliens?
SPAM: In answer to the last few questions, no, he is not. He is connected to my leapingly wonderful project.
NERD: Would that, by any chance, be the aforesaid project Hide-N-Seek?
SPAM: Precisely. (looks at wall again) I'm trying, can't you tell? (listens) Well, you'd better say goodbye to her then, because I think we both know where this line of questioning is leading, and what's going to happen as a result. (listens again, then sighs) Thanks, Alley. I really appreciate it. (turns back)
NERD: What, exactly, is Hide-N-Seek?
SPAM: It's my project. It's also a children's game. Everybody hides, then the person who's it counts to ten and seeks them out.
NERD: I know how to play hide and seek, but what does that have to do with your project? Are you a child psychologist, too?
SPAM: No, I am not, and Hide-N-Seek has everything to do with my project.
NERD: Explain the connection, Dr. Butthead.
SPAM: I would love to, sir, but you wouldn't understand it. (to Al) Got anything yet? I don't care what kind of por hysterics he/she/it is having. I'm the one with the problem, not Zigler. I don't care about its sex change program, I care about ending this game. This game isn't any fun any more. Just tell Zig to hurry up, will you?
NERD: I don't care what Al said, or what you think, just tell me what Project Hide-N-Seek is, and none of this game crap, either.
SPAM: Oh, boy, you would have to ask, wouldn't you? I knew this was inevitable. Okay, you asked for it. Project Hide-N-Seek has three goals: to search for new ways to send you and Gucci back to your original planets, to seek out a life and new brains for Dan Quayle and Major Majere here, and to boldly do the one thing that has never occured to Madonna...no, Al, it has nothing to do with wearing clothes. If it's women you're looking for, why don't you go bingo-bango-bongo with Ping-Pong or something. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, now I recall. To boldly do the other thing that has never occured to Madonna, to hide in alternate time periods and seek out ways to avoid annoying people.
NERD: So, to make a long story short, Project Hide-N-Seek gives you the ability to play leapfrog in time until such time that you feel like going home?
SPAM: Yeah, that about sums things up. (to Al) Don't look at me like that, we're still here, right? (pause) Oh, it's about time Zigler started working right. What does he say? Or is it she now? Oh, it? Okay, what does it say, then? Eli Whitney invented the...wait a minute, I think it's running the wrong program. I told it to abort the Freshman U.S. History program from its files. (pause) It's still unsure about the outcome?! How about telling me something I don't know, like how did I turn from a human being into a guinea pig for the U.S. Government?
NERD: I just have a few more questions for you now, Dr. Butthead, and then I'll let you talk to your friend here. What year is it now?
SPAM: Well, now, that depends, doesn't it? I think last time I asked it was 1966, but, then again, I could be wrong. I would ask Major Majere here, but he's not exactly the most reliable source.
NERD: I meant the year of this Hide-N-Seek project.
SPAM: Oh, I thought you were talking about now. The game Hide-N-Seek has
been going on since humans came into being, but my version is being played
in the year 1999. (begins to sing)
2,000 zero zero, party over, it's outta time
So now I'm gonna party like it's 1999
CARAMON: By the way, where is this game being played, anyway? I might want to play myself.
NERD: Shut up, Caramon. But that does bring up a good point. At what location is this project located?
SPAM: Black Stallion Springs, New Mexico. Exactly where? In a dungeon located underground way out in the middle of nowhere. A place very hard to find, especially for someone of your limited intelligence. I'm even having a problem finding it right now.
NERD: One last question for now. Who is Zigler, and what exactly is a sex change? Is it what I think it is?
SPAM: I don't think...(The door bursts open. Stodgy and Whacked Out enter, guns at ready.)
STODGY: Okay, that's enough, you two. Hands in the air. (Nerd and Caramon comply) Move away from my father. (They do so.)
SPAM: But I'm not your father. I don't have a son, I have a daughter named Sammy Jo. I also have a wife, but, come to think of it, she's not Sammy Jo's mother. (His mouth falls open.) My God, I've been unfaithful to Donna!
WHACKED OUT: Grandpa, what are you talking about? Who's Sammy Jo? You weren't married to anybody named Donna, either. (turning to Stodgy) Dad, maybe he really is getting senile.
STODGY: So? We'll take care of that later. Right now, I need you to get your grandpa untied while I cover these two buffoons.
NERD: You are interfering with a government project and could be arrested.
WHACKED OUT: Yeah, and you could be spending a lot of time behind bars for what you're doing.
NERD: And what exactly is that?
WHACKED OUT: You falsely declared that my grandfather is insane. He's not. You are. We sent him here, trusting that he would get the best care there is, and what happens? He is subjected to treatment worse than an animal receives. He is treated as a lab specimen, and there is a law against experimenting on individuals without their consent.
CARAMON: Oh, yeah? And just how are you going to prove it?
WHACKED OUT: With this. (lifts tape recorder) Everything that has been said in this room is recorded on here, and I'm willing to bet that my grandfather never said that he consented to this treatment.
SPAM: (standing) Well said, Whacked. You are absolutely correct. (glares at Nerd and Caramon) I hope that you get into very deep trouble. There really are UFO's, and nothing you do will completely hide their existence. (walks closer to them, lowers his voice) Time travel is also possible, but you two are too stupid to ever experience it. I know because I'm head of this project. I'm in charge of screening applicants and choosing who is put on the project, and you two are the last two I would ever pick for something like this!
(Spam walks out of the room, Stodgy and Whacked Out following. And here is where my rendition ends and we join the original episode, already in progress.)
Author's Note: This story was written before the show Beavis and Butthead ever aired, so please do not associate Spam Butthead with that show. Also, for those confused with the Zigler reference, Zigler was my high school freshman U.S. History teacher. Since I was in high school when writing this, that was the first thing that came to my mind when changing Ziggy's name.
Copyright 1992 by Kelly M. Grosskreutz
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