Reds fanfic
- Thread starter E. Burke
- Start date
How about MST3K does a "It Happened Here or It's Can't Happen Here" movie where the UASR or American-friendly government takes over Britain?
I'm actually surprised that this hasn't been floated before. It seems like it would be a staple of speculative fiction in the FBU. Come to think of it, do we have confirmation of a Red Dawn equivalent somewhere? I'd be more than willing to contribute to that project.
What would be the equivalent of "WOLVERINES!"? "POLECATS!"? "LYNXES!"?
Redshank Galloglass
Banned
I'm actually surprised that this hasn't been floated before. It seems like it would be a staple of speculative fiction in the FBU. Come to think of it, do we have confirmation of a Red Dawn equivalent somewhere? I'd be more than willing to contribute to that project.
What would be the equivalent of "WOLVERINES!"? "POLECATS!"? "LYNXES!"?
Well, the Red Dawn equivalent ITTL is French Teenagers in the a South of France that wage paramilitary war against the Soviet Army, and they also kill a small group of American Marines that were part of an American Marine assault force that smashed apart a Corps of French and West German soldiers.
Ah, I see. I must've either missed that or it's been long enough that I'd forgotten about it; the thread moves pretty quickly.
I'd suggest that if there were to be a It Can't Happen Here type film perhaps it would be better suited to be an artifact after the war in the Horn of Africa? It would keep with the campy quality of a film from the early '50s, wooden performances are expected, with the sort of hysterical plot that could only be written after a particularly bad proverbial breakup.
Bulldoggus
Banned
LIONS! ROOSTERS! BULLDOGS! GREYHOUNDS! DRAGONS! UNICORNS! It all depends on which part of the FBU.What would be the equivalent of "WOLVERINES!"? "POLECATS!"? "LYNXES!"?
Redshank Galloglass
Banned
Me and Bulldoggus are working on another MST3K, does anybody want their characters in it, or better yet, be a part of it through PM?
If you wouldn't mind adding me in, I'd like to see what you're up to.
I'll leave it you as I feel that have a good enough hand on my character for it. Though I'll check the PM you sent me to provide any corrections I feel are necessary for my character.
While visiting with George I met his wife Soledad. Soledad is short, round with long black and gray hair tied in a pony tail. George is tall and Soledad comes up to his shoulder but even then you could tell who ran the household, which was spotless by the way. If you dressed Soledad in a sari or salwar kameez she could be any one of my aunts back home. Little did I know I would meet the mother of two sons and Rosa the Riveter.
I was born in Brownsville, Texas in 1920 to a family of farmworkers. I was eight out of nine kids and the first girl to learn how to drive. In 1941 I heard about the war work in the north and my aunt told me they were paying women the same wages as men. Of course my parents disapproved of it so one evening I snuck out and caught the next train heading north. My aunt lived in Kansas City, Missouri and worked at an aircraft engine factory so she let me stay with her and recommended me for a job. I heard later on my parents called the authorities about me running away but since I was legal age they could do nothing about it.
I started working on the evening shift with my aunt and fell in with a group called the Damas Rosadas (Pink Ladies). They were all older women who drank alcohol, smoked tobacco and dated men, well, what men were left anyway. Since I was a farm girl I was too 'pure and innocent' for them. About six months later I was different woman that the girl who left the farm but that did not change the minds of the Damas. We heard about a contest from the Manufacturing Secretariat looking for a mascot or poster woman for some new campaign. I think the reward was some War Bonds. So of course the Damas start joking around about posing nude and I was thinking that the bonds would be good for my family in Texas. I do not remember if I said anything but something in the Damas changed. "So the little one thinks she has the guts! I dare you girl! So us what kind of woman you are!" I was angry with them so I marched myself to the Manager's office and filled out the form right there.
So two weeks pass and then I receive a postcard in the mail to report at an government office downtown. My aunt and I travel there and the receptionist tells me to go right in. I meet the local party officials and the people from the Manufacturing Secretariat who interview me. I tell them my story and they are impressed. They tell me to come back tomorrow with my work clothes and another set of clothes and issue a excused absence from the plant for my aunt and I. We come back the next day and they start taking pictures of me in various poses in my work clothes. They tell me that actual name will not be on the poster but the credit will go to me along with an official award and the bonds. After a day of pictures they send us home.
So full of pride I return to work and tell the Damas where they can go. They were shocked the little girl spoke up! It was going to be a fight till my aunt and some of the other workers separate us. A month later we see the first posters go up. "Rosa the Riveter" and "WE CAN DO IT COMRADES!". I received the first poster in the mail along with bonds and a certificate of my contribution to the War Effort. We have a small ceremony and the Damas make me a DR. I mailed the bonds and the poster to my parents. They were still angry with me but they framed that poster and kept it in a special place till they passed away. Six months later I met George at a dance the Damas dragged me to and the rest is history."
Letters Home by Kirtida Ritu Patil, Azad Hind Books, 2009
I was born in Brownsville, Texas in 1920 to a family of farmworkers. I was eight out of nine kids and the first girl to learn how to drive. In 1941 I heard about the war work in the north and my aunt told me they were paying women the same wages as men. Of course my parents disapproved of it so one evening I snuck out and caught the next train heading north. My aunt lived in Kansas City, Missouri and worked at an aircraft engine factory so she let me stay with her and recommended me for a job. I heard later on my parents called the authorities about me running away but since I was legal age they could do nothing about it.
I started working on the evening shift with my aunt and fell in with a group called the Damas Rosadas (Pink Ladies). They were all older women who drank alcohol, smoked tobacco and dated men, well, what men were left anyway. Since I was a farm girl I was too 'pure and innocent' for them. About six months later I was different woman that the girl who left the farm but that did not change the minds of the Damas. We heard about a contest from the Manufacturing Secretariat looking for a mascot or poster woman for some new campaign. I think the reward was some War Bonds. So of course the Damas start joking around about posing nude and I was thinking that the bonds would be good for my family in Texas. I do not remember if I said anything but something in the Damas changed. "So the little one thinks she has the guts! I dare you girl! So us what kind of woman you are!" I was angry with them so I marched myself to the Manager's office and filled out the form right there.
So two weeks pass and then I receive a postcard in the mail to report at an government office downtown. My aunt and I travel there and the receptionist tells me to go right in. I meet the local party officials and the people from the Manufacturing Secretariat who interview me. I tell them my story and they are impressed. They tell me to come back tomorrow with my work clothes and another set of clothes and issue a excused absence from the plant for my aunt and I. We come back the next day and they start taking pictures of me in various poses in my work clothes. They tell me that actual name will not be on the poster but the credit will go to me along with an official award and the bonds. After a day of pictures they send us home.
So full of pride I return to work and tell the Damas where they can go. They were shocked the little girl spoke up! It was going to be a fight till my aunt and some of the other workers separate us. A month later we see the first posters go up. "Rosa the Riveter" and "WE CAN DO IT COMRADES!". I received the first poster in the mail along with bonds and a certificate of my contribution to the War Effort. We have a small ceremony and the Damas make me a DR. I mailed the bonds and the poster to my parents. They were still angry with me but they framed that poster and kept it in a special place till they passed away. Six months later I met George at a dance the Damas dragged me to and the rest is history."
Letters Home by Kirtida Ritu Patil, Azad Hind Books, 2009
This is something I've been considering for some time now, based on a suggestion @Libertad had in an earlier post (I forget where):
Requiem for an Electric Man:
October 31st, 1933
Ironically, Room 3327 at the Hotel New Yorker was dark. The power had been cut off months ago due to the fighting. At the moment, Nikola Tesla was not bothered by that. He was sitting on the outside porch, feeding the pigeons, and enjoying the late afternoon breeze. He could occasionally hear gunfire in the distance, but was largely unconcerned. He was glad at least for his ability to do this. He was the only person left in the building, as all the guests had been evacuated as soon as Hoover had announced the State of Emergency, and he opted to stay. Since there wasn't any power, it wasn't like he could work, as he normally would during the day, and he doubted that the owners would care he still owed an extravagant bill to them at this point. If they were still alive. No, he'd have to wait for fighting to end to continue inventing.
Tesla frankly didn't care who would win this conflict. He only knew snippets of what was happening, thanks to brief intervals of power he gave to the radio. He had some sympathies for socialists, given he had his own run-ins with short-sighted businessmen like Edison or JP Morgan, who failed to appreciate his genius or the potential of his inventions. Especially Morgan, who had given his support to Tesla to create his wireless transmission tower, only to take it away when Tesla threatened his precious copper monopoly, and despite his pleas, refused to help him pay for Wardencyiffe. He also had no love for the American government, who failed to protect his patents, and essentially drove to poverty. His problems with patent also attracted him to the communist platform of having royalties directed towards the inventor. However, he had his own doubts about socialism, and its experimentation in the United States, and was unsure if it was feasible.
Tesla noted the time, 5:30, and decided to head outside for his weekly jog. At age 77, he still wanted to keep fit, but for his own safety, he voluntarily restricted it to a week between jogs. As he walked down the empty halls of the Hotel New Yorker, he couldn't help, but wonder if he had the potential to ended this conflict before it began. Morgan felt threatened by his wireless electricity concept. Maybe he could've broken the monopolies, and prevented the rise of corporate greed and maybe his concept (not that bastard Marconi's) of wireless transmission could've kept war from breaking out. Hell, he already had new concepts ready to prevent war. His cosmic ray motor, his frequency sensor which could work underwater, and especially his death ray, which would ensure the end of all war. Maybe he could give the concept to whoever won.
After several minutes of walking down the stairs, he emerged, and began to jog the abandoned streets of New York to the Library. It wasn't as if he was afraid. Hell, he was afraid sitting in his hotel room, because he had heard the fascists had mowed down the socialist leader Thomas in his DC hotel room. Still, he had done this every week since he moved here before the revolution began, and he would continue. However, as he moved down the steps, two men clad in US Army shirts suddenly appeared, and ran up to him. Guns pointed at him. Tesla stopped cold.
"What are you doing here?!"
"I, I mean no harm...."
"This guy sounds Russian. He could be an volunteer informant, sending info to the Reds."
"What... No, I'm not Russian. I've lived in this country for 50 years!"
"This guy does look familiar..."
"We can't take any chances! We are some of the last forces in this city, and I'm not letting one Red free!"
With that, the man raised his gun, and shot Tesla in chest. Tesla fell backwards onto the ground. As blood gushed around him, in his delirious state, he heard the remaining conversation.
"Oh my god, Bill, I know who this guy is!"
Bill's response was cut short by sudden gunfire behind them. They ran in opposite direction, shooting back. The shooting ended, and several soldiers, clad in green with red armbands, arrived. Tesla was slowly losing consciousness. One of them knelt down.
"Someone, get some help for this man."
Another voice came out.
"Oh god, it's Nikola Tesla!"
"The Inventor?"
Tesla knew he had little time left, so he used his last bit of energy to finally share his ideas. He tepidly raised his right hand to his pocket and pulled his room key out. He told the young soldier.
"Room 3327. Please take everything you can. See to it.... That it be used to be used for the benefit of all mankind."
Tesla lost consciousness. The soldier stood around, while medics picked up his body. The soldier threw the keys, and commanded them to do as Tesla said.
-----------------
Nikola Tesla died at age 77 at a New York medic camp on November 1st, 1933, due to the massive blood loss sustained from his wound. After the war was concisively won by the Reds, a funeral was held on January 6th, 1934 at the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. Over the radio, Fiorello LaGuardia gave a euology to Tesla, backed by Schubert's "Ave Maria".
His collected files and schematics were handed over to the Communications and Manufacturing Secretariats. While much of it was deemed unfeasible by the engineers at both departments, several of his ideas were kept around for further development, such as what would be the basis of radar and other such applications. His ideas for transmittable electricity, while implausible, provided inspiration for other developments in the area.
He is honored both in his native Yugoslavia and the UASR, with a plaque at the Hotel New Yorker Room 3327, a small museum at the former location of Wardencyiffe, and, most prominently, a statue at the Deleon-Debs Science Museum.
----------------
Requiem for an Electric Man:
October 31st, 1933
Ironically, Room 3327 at the Hotel New Yorker was dark. The power had been cut off months ago due to the fighting. At the moment, Nikola Tesla was not bothered by that. He was sitting on the outside porch, feeding the pigeons, and enjoying the late afternoon breeze. He could occasionally hear gunfire in the distance, but was largely unconcerned. He was glad at least for his ability to do this. He was the only person left in the building, as all the guests had been evacuated as soon as Hoover had announced the State of Emergency, and he opted to stay. Since there wasn't any power, it wasn't like he could work, as he normally would during the day, and he doubted that the owners would care he still owed an extravagant bill to them at this point. If they were still alive. No, he'd have to wait for fighting to end to continue inventing.
Tesla frankly didn't care who would win this conflict. He only knew snippets of what was happening, thanks to brief intervals of power he gave to the radio. He had some sympathies for socialists, given he had his own run-ins with short-sighted businessmen like Edison or JP Morgan, who failed to appreciate his genius or the potential of his inventions. Especially Morgan, who had given his support to Tesla to create his wireless transmission tower, only to take it away when Tesla threatened his precious copper monopoly, and despite his pleas, refused to help him pay for Wardencyiffe. He also had no love for the American government, who failed to protect his patents, and essentially drove to poverty. His problems with patent also attracted him to the communist platform of having royalties directed towards the inventor. However, he had his own doubts about socialism, and its experimentation in the United States, and was unsure if it was feasible.
Tesla noted the time, 5:30, and decided to head outside for his weekly jog. At age 77, he still wanted to keep fit, but for his own safety, he voluntarily restricted it to a week between jogs. As he walked down the empty halls of the Hotel New Yorker, he couldn't help, but wonder if he had the potential to ended this conflict before it began. Morgan felt threatened by his wireless electricity concept. Maybe he could've broken the monopolies, and prevented the rise of corporate greed and maybe his concept (not that bastard Marconi's) of wireless transmission could've kept war from breaking out. Hell, he already had new concepts ready to prevent war. His cosmic ray motor, his frequency sensor which could work underwater, and especially his death ray, which would ensure the end of all war. Maybe he could give the concept to whoever won.
After several minutes of walking down the stairs, he emerged, and began to jog the abandoned streets of New York to the Library. It wasn't as if he was afraid. Hell, he was afraid sitting in his hotel room, because he had heard the fascists had mowed down the socialist leader Thomas in his DC hotel room. Still, he had done this every week since he moved here before the revolution began, and he would continue. However, as he moved down the steps, two men clad in US Army shirts suddenly appeared, and ran up to him. Guns pointed at him. Tesla stopped cold.
"What are you doing here?!"
"I, I mean no harm...."
"This guy sounds Russian. He could be an volunteer informant, sending info to the Reds."
"What... No, I'm not Russian. I've lived in this country for 50 years!"
"This guy does look familiar..."
"We can't take any chances! We are some of the last forces in this city, and I'm not letting one Red free!"
With that, the man raised his gun, and shot Tesla in chest. Tesla fell backwards onto the ground. As blood gushed around him, in his delirious state, he heard the remaining conversation.
"Oh my god, Bill, I know who this guy is!"
Bill's response was cut short by sudden gunfire behind them. They ran in opposite direction, shooting back. The shooting ended, and several soldiers, clad in green with red armbands, arrived. Tesla was slowly losing consciousness. One of them knelt down.
"Someone, get some help for this man."
Another voice came out.
"Oh god, it's Nikola Tesla!"
"The Inventor?"
Tesla knew he had little time left, so he used his last bit of energy to finally share his ideas. He tepidly raised his right hand to his pocket and pulled his room key out. He told the young soldier.
"Room 3327. Please take everything you can. See to it.... That it be used to be used for the benefit of all mankind."
Tesla lost consciousness. The soldier stood around, while medics picked up his body. The soldier threw the keys, and commanded them to do as Tesla said.
-----------------
Nikola Tesla died at age 77 at a New York medic camp on November 1st, 1933, due to the massive blood loss sustained from his wound. After the war was concisively won by the Reds, a funeral was held on January 6th, 1934 at the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. Over the radio, Fiorello LaGuardia gave a euology to Tesla, backed by Schubert's "Ave Maria".
His collected files and schematics were handed over to the Communications and Manufacturing Secretariats. While much of it was deemed unfeasible by the engineers at both departments, several of his ideas were kept around for further development, such as what would be the basis of radar and other such applications. His ideas for transmittable electricity, while implausible, provided inspiration for other developments in the area.
He is honored both in his native Yugoslavia and the UASR, with a plaque at the Hotel New Yorker Room 3327, a small museum at the former location of Wardencyiffe, and, most prominently, a statue at the Deleon-Debs Science Museum.
----------------
Bookmark1995
Banned
No! Tesla! You were mowed down by the brutes of a dying and ignorant society. I wish those fools were still live, just so they could live with the guilt of murdering one of the most important scientists ever.
You sir made me sad! Well done.
It takes place in New York City, right?
The one problem I can see with it is that it takes place in October 1933, about eight months since the failed coup, and we know that New York (and most northeast cities) were very quickly secured for the revolution right after the coup.
Like, from what we know of the story, New York honestly hardly changes after the revolution is consolidated, so in-control were the workers, all that's different is that now they're really in power the land over.
The one problem I can see with it is that it takes place in October 1933, about eight months since the failed coup, and we know that New York (and most northeast cities) were very quickly secured for the revolution right after the coup.
Like, from what we know of the story, New York honestly hardly changes after the revolution is consolidated, so in-control were the workers, all that's different is that now they're really in power the land over.