Post by Audio Pineapple on Jul 6, 2007 15:10:20 GMT 1
Not entirely sure how FTB got me to do this but here it is - the unofficial Prison-Break/Simpsons crossover serial. Just as a couple of warnings though; I wasn't able to write it in the requested script format, I'm not sure I've ever tried a cross-over before and I don't tend to (attempt to) write comedy.
But without further ado this takes part in early season two as the gang dug up the Utah house, not finding treasure, but finding a cryptic note instead...
Chapter One
“Yo! Get me out of this trunk!” Michael looked at Lincoln, smirking as Tweener thudded onto the boot once more. “Hey! I can’t breathe!”
“Then maybe that will keep the boy quiet for a minute,” T-Bag stopped rubbing his throbbing temples as he caught Lincoln glaring at him in the rear-view mirror, “well excuse me for thinking that I might be allowed to open my mouth and express an opinion.”
“And I told you to be quiet, wait in the car.” Michael opened the passenger side door, walking over to where Lincoln was signalling him.
“Why have we even brought them here? We should have left them back in Utah.”
”Think about it. If we keep T-Bag in our sights he can’t hurt anyone.”
Lincoln sighed, nodding in agreement, “so this is where Westmoreland’s note said the money was really buried?”
“Yep; this is Springfield. Doesn’t look like much.”
“No!” Lincoln jumped as Michael shouted, the car revving up into high speed as it disappeared down the street, heading towards the centre of town. “He… took the car.”
“Maybe I should have remembered to take the keys out before we left.”
“You left the keys?”
“I err… forgot.”
Michael shook his head, turning away from Lincoln to stop himself from lashing out. “I guess we should start walking then. That money could be anywhere.”
“‘Under a big T?’ That’s what it said right?”
“‘The money is buried in Springfield, hidden underneath the Big T.’” He began down the street, pausing when he realised that Lincoln wasn’t following him. “What’s wrong?”
“My sunglasses are in the car.”
“So?”
“Michael! How can you expect me to look inconspicuous without my sunglasses!?”
“You’ll just have to make do with a baseball cap. We don’t need to worry anyway; apparently this town has very little contact with the outside world. I doubt they’ll even know who we are.”
*****
Lisa and Bart Simpson climbed off the school bus, Lisa desperately trying to dodge the spit balls flying from the casing of Bart’s ball point pen. Not watching where she was running to as the bus left she found herself crashing against something before falling over and a loud, deep growling noise.
“Oh, sorry…” she stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress and gulping at Lincoln’s ferocious expression as another spit ball hit her on the back off the neck, “gross Bart! Quit it!”
Bart laughed, getting ready to aim again before the device was lifted out of his hands and thrown across the road, looking up to see Michael smiling at Lisa, “big brothers can be a pain eh?”
“Hey that was mine. Go and get it back.”
Michael switched his focus to Bart, “you don’t deserve to have it back, you should cherish having a sister…” he trailed off, realising that he didn’t know the child’s name.
“I’m Lisa and this is Bart,” she groaned the name, trying to make her displeasure at the fact clear before sidestepping to hide behind her brother from Lincoln’s unwavering gaze.
“Well my name is Michael, and his is my big brother Lincoln.”
“We don’t get many visitors in Springfield.”
Michael smiled to himself, “I know. Do you know where we could find a big T?”
Lisa shook her head, still not venturing out from behind Bart.
“Well is there a motel anywhere around here where we can stay the night?”
“Well there is one but you don’t really want to be staying there…” She suddenly cried out, “spider!”
“What?! Where?” Michael didn’t need to wait for the answer, spotting a large, full-bodied spider climbing up his shirt he whipped his jacket off, trying to use it to bat the creature away before succumbing to his fear and removing his shirt as well, throwing it on the ground and sighing with relief as the spider ran away. He began to pick up his clothes again as he heard Bart’s whistle of appreciation.
“Cool tattoos man!”
“They’re nothing.” He had shoved an arm back into his shirt when Lisa stopped him.
“What are all those lines in the pictures?”
“There aren’t any lines in the pictures.”
“Sure there are! They’re all over them!”
Lincoln leaned in close to Michael as he finished attaching his shirt, “she can see the tattoos Michael.”
“Yeah, let me see!”
“Okay, okay… they’re blueprints… to a juvenile detention facility. I broke out of one when I was a kid.”
Lisa cocked her head, unsure whether or not to believe him when Marge opened the door. “Who are you? What are you doing talking to my children?”
“This is Michael mom – they need a place to stay! And he has really cool tattoos; he’s a juvenile delinquent!” Bart rambled on as Marge squinted at Michael.
“Michael Scott? Homer’s cousin?”
“Err… yeah.” Michael shrugged to Lincoln, eager not to get recognised “Homer’s cousin.”
“Oh well come in! I’m Marge and Homer isn’t back from working in the plant yet but you can wait here.” Lisa and Bart headed in and Michael followed them, Marge laying eyes on Lincoln for the first time. “Oh no! No! No!”
“What’s wrong Marge?” Michael felt his heart rise into his mouth as Marge’s eyes widened.
“You can’t come into my house! I have children!”
“This is Lincoln… he’s Homer’s cousin as well.”
“I don’t care who he is mister, he’s not coming in until he does those shirt buttons up. I don’t want him showing his man-chest around my house!”
But without further ado this takes part in early season two as the gang dug up the Utah house, not finding treasure, but finding a cryptic note instead...
Chapter One
“Yo! Get me out of this trunk!” Michael looked at Lincoln, smirking as Tweener thudded onto the boot once more. “Hey! I can’t breathe!”
“Then maybe that will keep the boy quiet for a minute,” T-Bag stopped rubbing his throbbing temples as he caught Lincoln glaring at him in the rear-view mirror, “well excuse me for thinking that I might be allowed to open my mouth and express an opinion.”
“And I told you to be quiet, wait in the car.” Michael opened the passenger side door, walking over to where Lincoln was signalling him.
“Why have we even brought them here? We should have left them back in Utah.”
”Think about it. If we keep T-Bag in our sights he can’t hurt anyone.”
Lincoln sighed, nodding in agreement, “so this is where Westmoreland’s note said the money was really buried?”
“Yep; this is Springfield. Doesn’t look like much.”
“No!” Lincoln jumped as Michael shouted, the car revving up into high speed as it disappeared down the street, heading towards the centre of town. “He… took the car.”
“Maybe I should have remembered to take the keys out before we left.”
“You left the keys?”
“I err… forgot.”
Michael shook his head, turning away from Lincoln to stop himself from lashing out. “I guess we should start walking then. That money could be anywhere.”
“‘Under a big T?’ That’s what it said right?”
“‘The money is buried in Springfield, hidden underneath the Big T.’” He began down the street, pausing when he realised that Lincoln wasn’t following him. “What’s wrong?”
“My sunglasses are in the car.”
“So?”
“Michael! How can you expect me to look inconspicuous without my sunglasses!?”
“You’ll just have to make do with a baseball cap. We don’t need to worry anyway; apparently this town has very little contact with the outside world. I doubt they’ll even know who we are.”
*****
Lisa and Bart Simpson climbed off the school bus, Lisa desperately trying to dodge the spit balls flying from the casing of Bart’s ball point pen. Not watching where she was running to as the bus left she found herself crashing against something before falling over and a loud, deep growling noise.
“Oh, sorry…” she stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress and gulping at Lincoln’s ferocious expression as another spit ball hit her on the back off the neck, “gross Bart! Quit it!”
Bart laughed, getting ready to aim again before the device was lifted out of his hands and thrown across the road, looking up to see Michael smiling at Lisa, “big brothers can be a pain eh?”
“Hey that was mine. Go and get it back.”
Michael switched his focus to Bart, “you don’t deserve to have it back, you should cherish having a sister…” he trailed off, realising that he didn’t know the child’s name.
“I’m Lisa and this is Bart,” she groaned the name, trying to make her displeasure at the fact clear before sidestepping to hide behind her brother from Lincoln’s unwavering gaze.
“Well my name is Michael, and his is my big brother Lincoln.”
“We don’t get many visitors in Springfield.”
Michael smiled to himself, “I know. Do you know where we could find a big T?”
Lisa shook her head, still not venturing out from behind Bart.
“Well is there a motel anywhere around here where we can stay the night?”
“Well there is one but you don’t really want to be staying there…” She suddenly cried out, “spider!”
“What?! Where?” Michael didn’t need to wait for the answer, spotting a large, full-bodied spider climbing up his shirt he whipped his jacket off, trying to use it to bat the creature away before succumbing to his fear and removing his shirt as well, throwing it on the ground and sighing with relief as the spider ran away. He began to pick up his clothes again as he heard Bart’s whistle of appreciation.
“Cool tattoos man!”
“They’re nothing.” He had shoved an arm back into his shirt when Lisa stopped him.
“What are all those lines in the pictures?”
“There aren’t any lines in the pictures.”
“Sure there are! They’re all over them!”
Lincoln leaned in close to Michael as he finished attaching his shirt, “she can see the tattoos Michael.”
“Yeah, let me see!”
“Okay, okay… they’re blueprints… to a juvenile detention facility. I broke out of one when I was a kid.”
Lisa cocked her head, unsure whether or not to believe him when Marge opened the door. “Who are you? What are you doing talking to my children?”
“This is Michael mom – they need a place to stay! And he has really cool tattoos; he’s a juvenile delinquent!” Bart rambled on as Marge squinted at Michael.
“Michael Scott? Homer’s cousin?”
“Err… yeah.” Michael shrugged to Lincoln, eager not to get recognised “Homer’s cousin.”
“Oh well come in! I’m Marge and Homer isn’t back from working in the plant yet but you can wait here.” Lisa and Bart headed in and Michael followed them, Marge laying eyes on Lincoln for the first time. “Oh no! No! No!”
“What’s wrong Marge?” Michael felt his heart rise into his mouth as Marge’s eyes widened.
“You can’t come into my house! I have children!”
“This is Lincoln… he’s Homer’s cousin as well.”
“I don’t care who he is mister, he’s not coming in until he does those shirt buttons up. I don’t want him showing his man-chest around my house!”
