The A-Team with MC Hawking
Voiceover: In 1972, a crack theoretical physics unit was sent to prison by a military court for a thesis they didn't submit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum-security stockade to the Berkeley underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as physicists of fortune. If you have a problem ... if no one else can help ... and if you can find them, and isolate them from the local mass-accelerometer without causing a quantum interference singularity ... maybe you can hire ... the A-Team with MC Hawking.
MC Hawking: I AIN'T COLLAPSING NO WAVEFORM, SUCKA!
In which the underdog is getting hassle from some rich guy
- The A-Team with MC Hawking delivers produce to the market for a farming college professor who went to Vegas to use the perfect gambling system against corrupt neighborhood protection racketeering police creationists and disappeared. A distraught physics student contacts the A-team with MC Hawking, who, despite being in jail, create convincing facsimiles of themselves and break out.
MC Hawking: MURDOCK, I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU SUBSCRIBE TO A NON-EUCLIDEAN GEOMETRY, CHOOSING INSTEAD TO DEFINE YOUR CURRENT AND FUTURE POSITIONS IN TERMS OF HYPER-QUATERNIONS.
Murdock: I'm a bird! I'm a plane! I'm a choo-choo train!
MC Hawking: SHUT UP, FOO'!
In which the bad guys get hold of as much weaponry as they can, and the A-Team get hold of even better weaponry
- Hawking revs up the red spoiler on his wheelchair.
MC Hawking: IT APPALS ME THAT YOU CONSIDER THAT I WOULD BE DECEIVED BY SO SIMPLISTIC A STRATAGEM AS MILK. I WAS IN STAR TREK, YOU KNOW. I AIN'T EXISTING ON NO PLANE, SUCKA!
- Murdock unplugs Hawking's voice synthesizer and rolls his wheelchair onto the plane.
Hannibal: I love it when a proof comes together!
In which the A-Team and the bad guys battle it out, though no-one gets hit
Hannibal: Mathematics is a state of mind, it's not a speciality. And if you don't stand up against mathematics it'll beat you every time.
MC Hawking: AH! BUT IF WE CONSIDER THE UNIVERSE TO BE AN ELEVEN-DIMENSIONAL TOROID, WE CAN SIMPLY TOPOGRAPHICALLY TRANSLATE THE BATTLE TO ITS OWN INVERSE USING WANG THEORY AND THEREBY DEFEAT THEM WITH THEIR OWN WEAPONRY. YO.
Face: Don't you vocode at me like that. That's not even a real voice. It's just a bunch of bleeps playing with my mind.
- Hawking's wheelchair blows a tire, rolls four times and explodes. Fortunately, Hawking is unhurt. One of his nubile graduate assistants pulls a spare wheelchair out of her cleavage.
In which the A-Team are captured, but escape using lethal and yet non-fatal improvised weaponry
MC Hawking: BOTHER — THE QUANTITY OF JEWELRY AROUND MY NECK HAS RENDERED ME SUPERCONDUCTIVE, LEAVING US SUSCEPTIBLE TO CAPTURE. HOW VERY ANNOYING.
Professor Roy Hinkley: Well, that glue is permanent! There's nothing on the island to dissolve it. Why do you know what it would take? It would take a polyester derivative of an organic hydroxide molecule.
MC Hawking: A FEW LINES OF PSEUDOSCIENTIFIC GIBBERISH WHENEVER THE PLOT APPEARS TO PALL WILL NOT SUFFICE FOR A SERIOUS DRAMATIC PRESENTATION SUCH AS THIS. PARTICULARLY WHEN IT IS INTUITIVELY OBVIOUS TO THE MOST CASUAL OBSERVER THAT WE NEED TO REVERSE THE POLARITY OF THE NEUTRON FLOW. FOO'!
Murdock: I can make a tank out of this weasel and a bit of left-over sammich. And I can get it to play the theme music, too!
Hannibal: Hawking! Get the van!
MC Hawking: THE VAN DON'T EXIST IN THIS QUANTUM UNIVERSE, SUCKA! BUT I CAN USE MY EXPLICATION OF MANY-WORLDS THEORY TO SELECT US INTO ONE OF AN INFINITE NUMBER OF UNIVERSES IN WHICH THIS BAG OF POTATOES TURNS INTO A SIX-DIMENSIONAL TELEPORTER.
Murdock: Gosh darnit! Hawking, did you just move us in six dimensions into a gay strip-club in the '80s again?
MC Hawking: AW YEAH!