My Wood Chipper and Some Other Things

I was perty tired from all that fightin' droids and savin' old Palpatine and whatnot. So I decided to sit in my room awhile and relax with my wood chipper. There ain't nothin' makes me more relaxed than puttin' stuff in that there wood chipper and watchin' it fly out the window in a buncha little bitty pieces.

'Course, you gotta watch real close, 'cause stuff flies through that machine perty fast:

Six months of (mostly) empty pizza boxes? Throw 'em in there. Rrrrrrrr Zzzip! Pizza box confetti.

300 pounds of empty (really empty, licked clean and everything) Cheetos bags? Rrrrrrr Zzzzip! Cheetos bag confetti.

Yoda's sofa cushions that he likes to close up all fancy-like in plastic? Rrrrrr Zzzzzip! Sofa cushion confetti.

Sometimes, I try to do it around sunrise. That's when old Mace opens his window so he can look at the sun shine on his head or sumthin stupid like that. Anyway, if the wind is just right, all that stuff will blow right out from my wood chipper and right into his room. Just hearing him scream like a little girl makes all them credits I spend on them there monthly wood chipper payments worth it.

So I'm just sittin' there, enjoyin' my day when I hear somebody knockin' on my door. I figured it was Yoda come to tell me to knock off the noise and probably hit me in the head with his cane. So I decided to be real smart and trick him into thinkin' I wasn't there. "I ain't here!" I yelled.

"That ought to fool him," I thought.

But then I heard someone at the door say, "Obi-wan?"

It was Padme! I guess she didn't hear me when I said I wasn't there. So I told her to come in.

"Hey, Padme! Good to see you! How you been doin'? Good?"

She looked over at my wood chipper. "Ok, like, what is that?"

"That's my wood chipper! Ain't you never seen one of them before?"

"Why do you have a... ok, whatever. Listen, I've got something like, really, really important to talk to you about... like, really important."

"Look," I said, "I don't know how them there Cheetos got in your hot tub, or your water bed. It ain't like I come over to your apartment when you're gone and use your place and wear your bath robe or nothin' like that."

"No, it's not about... wait, what?"

"And because panty hose make good strainers and you were out of coffee filters don't mean I used your panty hose to make coffee. I mean that don't even make no sense..."

Padme put her hand up. "Ok, stop. You're totally creeping me out. Listen, I need to talk to you about something that's like a really, really big deal. So I need you to, like, you know, act normal for a couple of minutes and not act all weird or anything, 'kay?"

I could tell she was perty sad, almost like she was gettin ready to cry or sumthin. "What's the matter, Padme?"

Just then, she threw her arms around me and started bawling her eyes out all over my robe. She started sayin' sumthin, too. I couldn't understand most of it, but it sounded a lot like, "Oh Obi I'm gonna have a baby and Anakin is acting like totally lame about it and he says he's not the father and anybody could be the father he says even you could be the father can you imagine I mean no offense but as if I mean eww I mean come on and besides I wouldn't be unfaithful to Ani we're married for crying out loud oh did I forget to mention we're married yeah well anyway I'm totally bummed wait my nose is running snuuurk thanks anyway I don't know what to do I'm like totally alone what's this orange stain on your robe gross anyway I'm totally freaking out I like don't know what I'm going to do! WAAAAAAAAH!"

I held that little girl's face in my hands and said, "Don't worry, Darlin'. I'm gonna take care of everything."

She smiled for the first time since she came through my door, "Really?"

"I sure will. Don't worry about nothin'. I'm gonna take care of it all."

She hugged me real tight. "Oh, Obi, you like, totally rock! I knew you would help. You've always been my like my big brother. You know that, right?"

Of course I was gonna help! I didn't understand a whole lot of what she said, but it sounded to me like she was havin' a baby and Anakin thought I was the daddy. I don't know why he would think that, but he's perty smart and he'd have a good reason. Course, I don't remember doin' nuthin' with Padme that would make her have a baby. I don't remember walking through no cabbage patch with her or pettin' no stork or nuthin.

There was that one mission to Hoth where we went together in her ship and I accidentally used her toothbrush. Boy, was she mad! I had to apologize the whole trip, and... Anyway, that's enough, ain't it? To make a baby, I mean? Dang, I wish I had paid attention at them special health classes I had as a younglin when Yoda explained all that. All I remember is Yoda kept sayin, "Giggle not! Important this is! Reproduce, most of you little monsters should not, especially Kenobi. How to avoid that I am telling you! Stop laughing now, you must! Act mature for five minutes can you not?!"

Anyway, it don't matter. Anakin thinks I'm the daddy, and that's good enough for me. I'm gonna take care of my responsibilities.

So, anyway, that's when old Jar Jar came runnin through my door, tripping all over himself as usual. He was sayin' "Senator Amidala! Senator Amidala! Meesa have a very important message..."

"Jar Jar!" we both yelled, "look out for the..."

"AAAAAAAAAAH!"

"... wood chipper."

Yeah, poor old Jar Jar fell staight in. Made a real clean sound, too. Rrrrrr Zzzzip! Jar Jar confetti.

We looked out the window to watch him blow away and Padme looked over at me and said, "You look heartbroken, Obi-wan. You must have really loved Jar Jar."

"It ain't that," I said, "It's that... well... now I ain't the second dumbest person around here no more."

Just then, off in the distance, ol' Mace screamed like a little girl.

*pics by Eric

Big News

Flush with victory over the duel with Count Dooku, Anakin Skywalker saunters over to Padme’s home to tell her the good news.

"Yo Padme! Hey! Where is you at? Have I got some super dope news to lay on you.”

“Ani! You’re okay!!!”

“Shuh! You’re damn straight I am. Which is a damn sight better than I can say for that decrepit old Jedi I just ganked.”

“You…killed Master Yoda?”

“What? Oh hell no. Count Dooku. Ya know…the one that always smells of Old Spice and fish sticks.”

“…Master Windu?”

“No no. It was- Shoot! Didn’ts ya hear it on the news? Didn’t ya see me mug the camera for all it was worth? Man, I hope my hair was illin’. I’d hate to think everyone saw the Chosen One with crunked up hair and spit.”

“No…no I wasn’t watching the….I mean, I had other things on my mind.”

“Damn girl, seeing you right now makes me get only one thing on my mind. Damn girl! You is sportn’ some fine bagels in yours hair.”

”Oh, you like them? It’s the new look. Everyone is wearing them.”

“Oh yeah…they is fine. I’d butter your bagels anytime fly-girl. Now come on over here and show your man some sugar.”

“Ani…we…need to talk.”

“Okay…we can say freaky things to each other while we…”

“No. I mean we really have to talk. It’s important. It can’t wait.”

“Oh…so it’s like that is it.”

“Anakin…I-I don’t quite know how to say this. We’ve been so quiet about our…relationship. So discreet. But now…everything’s changed.”

“What do you mean, babe? I haven’t changed. I’m still your souped up gangsta love monkey.”

“No. I’ve changed. Something has happened. Something wonderful. I-I hope you think it’s wonderful too.”

“Ya gots tickets ta Snoop Hutt?”

“No. I’m…expecting.”

“So you’re expecting to get tickets to Snoop Hutt.”

“No. It’s not that. It’s…as they say, the rabbit died.”

“What? Ya had to kill a rabbit to get tickets to Snoop Hutt?”

“What?”

“Damn, that’s cold. Even I wouldn’t go offing some poor defenseless bunny. That is unless it was some evil Sith bunny then I wouldst like slice in two like I did-“

“Ani! Listen to me. This is important.”

“Hell, I’m trying ta listen to ya, girl. But you ain’t makin’ no sense. Did you or did you ain’t get no Snoop Hutt tickets?”

“Ani…I’m with child.”

Anakin scans the room quickly. “You’re with a youngling? Where the hell is he at? He better not be hidin’ in the bathroom. I gots ta drop a duce pretty soon.”

“No Ani, I’m in a family way.”

“You in whoz family’s way?”

“Ani…can’t you tell…I’m knocked up!”

“Some one knocked ya up side the head? Sonofa…when I find out who-“

“Damn it, Anakin. I’m pregnant!!!”

“……”

“…With a child.”

“……”

“With your child.”

‘Woah! Whoah! Whoh!!! Now hold on there. There ain’t no way you can pin that on me.”

“Anakin…what are you saying? It’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone but you.”

“Shuh! How do I know that? Damn girl, you could have been with half the Jedi council while I’ve been out fightin’ the Sith and spit.”

“Please Ani…you have to believe me…It’s yours. It can’t be anyone else’s but yours.”

“Oh, it can’t, huh? Well…what about….what about…uh….Obi!”

“Obi Wan Kenobi?”
”Oh yeah! Don’t tell me you haven’t been dreamin’ about lickin’ those crusty Cheetos dusted fingers of his. I’ve seen the way you look at em.”

“How…how can you say that? After all we have gone through.”

“Hey don’t be messin’ with my head with those tears of yours. No one traps the Chosen One.”

“I’m not trying to trap you. It’s the truth.”

“Save it for your Kenobi knockwurst. There ain’t no way you’re gonna pin your secret love tryst child on me. Come ta think of it, I’m surprised at ya! Of all people ta go behind my back with…my own Jedi Master!”

“oh….oh Ani! How could you?!?!?”

Covering her face, Padme races out of the room in tears. Anakin just stands and watches her leave. After a moment or two, he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a “spice” cigarette and lights it up.

“Well, that went pretty good.”

Dropping the Dooku

In the midst of a terrible battle high above Coruscant, Two lone Jedi’s somehow…inexplicably entered the flag ship of Count Dooku without anyone noticing them. (See the question of the week).

Now, deep inside the droid infested halls, Obi Wan and his padawan Anakin Skywalker (aka the chosen one, aka teh gangsta Jedi, aka Palpatine’s whipping boy…) make a dash to Count Dooku’s personal chambers without drawing any attention to them. Unfortunately, Obi Wan happened to have seen his favorite ride and had to go for a spin or two.

“Master, we gots ta get a move on it. Don’t you think you’ve had enough ‘spin-the-Jedi’ time? Bissides…we’re running out of quarters and I aints spotting you any more money until you pay me back for those Puff-n-Stuff mail order leotards.”

“Oh…darn. Very well. I guess we should head on over and deal with Count Dooku now.”

“Shuh! Ya think?”

“C’mon. I know exactly where he’s at. I can feel a disturbance in the Force. Oh wait…that’s the room spinning. I…I think I’ma gonna…gonna….RRRRRoooollllllllfff!!”

“Dude, I am not cleaning that up.”

Twenty minutes and three breath mints later, the two Jedis finally find their way to the inner sanctum of Count Dooku. With lightsabers blazing, they force their way in for the final confrontation. Inside they see Chancellor Palpatine chained to a chair and tauntingly surrounded by Little Dooku snacks. “oh thank heaven you’ve arrived,” he gasped. “Count Dooku here was about to force feed me some of his expired snacks again.”

“That’s no prob, Palps. That’s why we is here. Ain’t that right, Obs?”

“That an the dryer.”

“Ah….Obi Wan Kenobi. And Anakin Skywalker. I was wondering who they were going to send.” Count Dooku smirked as he walked closer to them; his red lightsaber a-glow. “The Jedi Council must truly be desperate to be sending in the likes of you two. A pity. I was so looking forward to showing off some of my new tricks.”

“The only tricks you’re gonna do, ya ol geezer, are the kinds they do downtown on the street corner for a buck fifty.”

“…? That doesn’t even make sense, dear boy.”

“Whateves. It sounded cool. That’s all that matters.”

“Enough of this," Obi Wan stammered. "Count Dooku, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Chancellor Palpatine. Come with us quietly or we will be forced to use the Force.”

“oh my. And I was so trying not to have your asses served to you by an ‘old geezer’. Very well. Let’s have it now.”

The two Jedi advanced cautiously. Count Dooku stood his ground. Suddenly, the two Jedi struck only to be parried by the Count’s own lightsaber.

“Is that the best you two can do? My basset hound can fight better than this.”

“Your basset hound or yo mama!!”

“….?”

“Shuddup. Whateves. I’m improvising.”

“Anakin, we must separate and take him from both sides,” Obi Wan directed.

“No probs, master. I’ll keep him occupied and you just wail on him.”

While Anakin and Dooku fight vigorously, Obi Wan calculates the right time to attack. When he sees his opening he lunges forward…then suddenly…

“Oh….oh…the room is spinning again…I…..I…” The Jedi steps on his robes and slips on the slick metal floor. Within moments his head cracks on the floor and he is out cold.

“I’m afraid, dear boy, that it’s just us two again. I do look forward to taking your other hand. You know, I still have your first hand back at my villa. I use it to wipe my ass, you know.”

“Arrrrrrrrgh!” Filled with rage at the thought of his old hand touching the decrepit Jedi’s pimply ass, Anakin flings himself at him with all his might and anger. All the while, Palpatine watches with glee in his eye.

“Damn it! Will someone wipe this glee out of my eye, I can’t see. Ah, that’s better. Yes…yes….use your hate Anakin. It makes you stronger.”

“Come now, young Jedi,” Dooku spoke between thrusts. “What do you care if he lives or dies? He took everything from me. My snacks…my Rooku McDooku franchise…my limited edition gold plated Sigmund and the Sea Monster tricycle. What else do I have to live for?”

“I don’t care what kinda gripes ya got with ol Palps. I’m just here to even the score…with your hand!”

“Oh, and I suppose a young upstart like yourself actually thinks he could take off a hand from a mighty Sith Lord such as myself? I would sooner believe…

*slice*

“?!?! That…that was my yo-yo hand. How? How…how am I to use my new yo-yo now?”

*slice*

“My…my other hand….my dueling hand…how did…?”

*slice*

“Oh dear…that was my good soccer foot. Now you’ve really done it. I’m going to…”

*slice*

“That was my brandy snifter nose…”

*slice*

“my…my nudging elbow…”

*slice*

“My dancing leg….”

*slice*

“My…my Twi’lek ticker….oh I should say I’m going to dearly miss that too…”

*slice*

“My ass kicking leg. I…I give! I give!!!”

“No. Finish him Anakin.” Palpatine prompted. “Kill him. Kill him now.”

“But sir…that would be unkind.”

“Oh, and leaving me a blood stump is just fine and dandy, is it?” Count Dooku whimpered squirming on the ground with blood spirting everywhere.

“Shuddup! It’s only a flesh wound.” Anakin shot back.

“You must finish him,” Palpatine continued. “He is just a blood stump. How can a Sith Lord with no legs or hands be of any use to me?”

“I….I can’t. It’s just not right.”

“You know....He had sex with your mother.”

*slice*

And the head of Count Dooku rolls lifelessly away.

“Good. Now undo these manacles that I could have so easily slipped out of any time I wanted to but needed you to do it for me.”

Anakin obeys. “man, I got his blood all over my illin’ black clothes. You know how hard it is to get blood stains out of threads like these.”

“Oh believe me, I do. ahem. I mean...Never mind that. I’ll buy you some new ones. We must leave the ship. I just heard the main reactor blow. It won’t be long before this ship plummets to the ground.”

“Wait. What about Obi Wan?”

“Leave him. One less redneck Jedi in the world.”

“I can’t leave him. He still owes me money.”

“Very well. But we must hurry. I feel that General Grievous has left the ship. There is no one left to pilot it. We must leave before…”

“What do you mean no one left to pilot it? Who do you think you’re talkin’ to?”

Palpatine glanced over towards Anakin with wide innocent eyes. “Why….the most super fly gangsta Jedi Chosen One space pilot with the most illin’ bling bling robo-claw around.”

“You’re damn right, fool. Now get me to the bridge. I’ll land this hunk o junk.”

Within minuets they reach the deserted bridge. Anakin takes the wheel and tries desperately to take control. Out side, the ship blazes in a fireball hurtling towards the ground.

“We’re coming in too fast. We’ll burn up. We need to cool off somehow.”

“Not if I can help it, Palps. I just called the space port to send us some cooling ships to dowse us but good.”

“Mere water will do nothing to this glowing hull. We’re doomed.”

“If they use water maybe. But these guys are professionals. They use the one liquid that can withstand the hottest temperatures of Tatooine and still hold up under pressure. Bantha urine!!!”

“There, that ought to do it. Now if I can just find a place to land this thing.”

“Ah. How about that area over there. There doesn’t seem to be hardly anyone along that street at all. Except for one lone person.”

“Not his lucky day, is it Palps. Oh well. I’ll have ta do it. Here goes nothing…”

While down below, a single Gungan walks the streets with a stiff limp and sore arms.

“Wowsa! Messa lucky the fall didn’t kill poor Jar Jar. Or the stampede. Now all messa needs ta do is find a nice hospital to recuperate. Eh? Whassa noise behind me? Oh no…..NOOOOOOO!!!!”

Doofuses to the rescue!

High above Coruscant, on board his flag ship, the Invisible Touch, Count Dooku paces his private quarters and ponders his fate.

Never, in the oily darkness that has surrounded me, have I faltered. Never had I lost my footing in the shadows. Nothing has swayed me since I was swallowed into the madness of the Dark Side.

I have stood tall, commanding armies, training assassins, proudly fighting to balance the light and the dark.

Battling against the endless torrent of the foul Light Side, as it sought to extinguish the night.

I simply could not let this be.

So, as a man of principal and endless greed, I formed a lucrative competition. The Brownie Moguls would not own this galaxy. There is no tool more powerful to wield in the Dark Side than Capitalism.

I could have been more... persuasive, as there are multiple compounds, that, when mixed with cigar tobacco, could kill with little trace. It would do you well to remember that, my good Jawa.

In the ancient prophecies, there is to be a balance of light and darkness, good and evil, salty and sweet. The scales have been tipped by my former master.

My Master He is darkness, like the dusk that stealthily follows day, benignly trailing. He is the blackest pitch wrapped in a lie. His pawns wear the armour of knights, but all are expendable.

I suppose it is my lot in this tiresome life to be betrayed at every turn. First, I was ignored by the Jedi, as they denied the rights of races that didn't follow their doctrines, and then there was that time I spent as a Sleestak. Incarceration and that horrid game of Survivor. It is though I were a prolific actor, and the show must go on.

But, again, I felt the pain of betrayal. Or perhaps it was the swirling madness dredging up past indiscretions. This was unforgivable. My vast empire usurped, ripped away from my nurturing hands.

Palpatine had gone far too far, my good people.

McDooku's and Little Dooku Snacks brought in a corporate take-over.

I was, at least, compensated this time.

I suppose that he had found me in a moment of weakness, my vintage Fender Stratocaster in my hands, and brownies on my breath. He manipulated me, as he always had, toying with my fragile sanity, unraveling the frayed tendrils of my mind.

His darkness went far beyond anything I could tap into.

I do look better in black than he ever could, mind you (barring the white spats, as the darkest ensemble requires the utmost class).

As I sit here, with my meager prize in hand, staring into its polished surface, I wonder if it was all worth it. The years of Darkness Correspondence Training (with a minor certificate in TV/VCR repair), brownie flashbacks, and botched magic spells were truly worth the despair and madness that snuffed out the light within. If in my palm was the key to enlightenment, the great leveler, the one ring to rule them all... Wait... What? Never-mind, old chap. Was the trade fair?

Well, it is the most spiffing Yo-Yo this galaxy has ever seen.

"Look! I can make it walk the dog!"

But now it seems like my past has finally caught up with me. It seems those Jedi fools are actually attempting to attack me in a pitiful ploy to grab chancellor Palpatine. I wonder who those high and mighty Jedi chose to dare take me on? I wonder if I’ll have time for a spot of tea before they come on board?

Outside, a war is waged. Clones of the republic battle the droid army of the separatists in ships that resemble x-wing and tie-fighters. No…we ain’t makin’ this crap up.

Two ships among the thousands weave their way through impossible battles, desperate to find their final destination before it is two late.

Obi Wan: Now…now hold on there, Anakin. Don’t yall get too far ahead of me again. We need to work together as a team. Don’t be all fancy like with your flying.

Anakin: Hey, don’t be getting all up in my grill, master. I knows whats ta be done. I was just taking care of the last of these here buzz-kill droids for ya.

Obi Wan: Oh…well…thank you Anakin. I didn’t see them.

Anakin: Didn’t see them? They was all mackin’ on your right wing. If I didn’t scrape them off just now you would be one dead mo***r f*****g Jedi right now.

Obi Wan: Anakin, a Jedi does not use such language.

Anakin: Yeah…whatevs! Damn, I wish I didn’t have that third chili dog before we left on our mission. Ya think the Invisible Touch has a bathroom on board?

Obi Wan: Anakin, keep your mind on the mission. We have to stop Dooku.

Anakin: Yeah, yeah. I know. But I’m cramping bad, dog.

Obi-Wan: Just lead us to the docking bay…where ever that may be.

Anakin: What do you mean? It’s right there!!

Obi-Wan: Right….where?

Anakin: What? Right in front of you. Are ya blind or somthin’?

Obi Wan: What? No…um where? I…uh….smack smack…wait a second…I think I have a small malfunction over here.

Anakin: Malfunction? What kinda’ mal….wait a second! Master did you open up some Cheetoes while fighting in zero gravity?

Obi Wan: Uh…..no. well...uh maybe.

Written by Rebecca/Eric

Now THAT'S Entertainment

It is I, the lovely and talented C-3P0, for the triumphant return of C! Cybertainment Holovision, bringing you the freshest unfound truths of the galaxy.

And have we got a dish in this ish! It seems that there may be the pitter patter of little feet (Jawas and Ugnaughts need not apply) for the Galactic Senate's most beautiful and alluring senator, Mistress Padme Amidala!

We have a first hand, second rate report from Snuggpuggla Gagmag, a Gamorrean clerk at the Younglings-R-Us, at the Coruscanti Mall.

"She, and all her giggly preppie little clones, were looking at baby clothes and sighing a lot. She's so thin, she won't need maternity clothes. She could just do with a pair sweats. I hope she has twins and gets really fat."

Well wishers already! Well, we at C! (Cybertainment Holovision) hope that the rumours are true, as would make for a wonderful story!

Another great, never fact-checked, dish about the Maker himself, Knight Anakin Skywalker. It seems that local Jedi Temple staff have seen the young Knight munching on the new brands of Palpatines snacks, which, as you know, are forbidden to any Jedi. The council have ruled that these salty snacks are filled with preservatives, trans-fatty acids, and dark matter.

When questioned about this delightfully dark bit of rule-breaking, Master Yoda had this to say; "Out of my way, you will move, shiny droid. Nothing I have to say to you about Knight Anakin's deceptions or the fact that, grounded him we have. Without allowance. Hmmf. Spoiled his dinner he did."

Knight Skywalker is grounded? What a heavy handed punishment. We at C! (Cybertainment Holovision) certainly hope that this does not breed any discontentment in the Maker, but we do hope that there are a string of exciting events following this story for us to bring to you, our ravenous fans!

Lastly, we bring you breaking real legitimate actual news on the kidnapping of Chancellor Palpatine.

He was taken from his boring abode in the skyline of Coruscant, by a certain self-imposed Count of Sorenno (which no-one calls him), Jard Thelonius Buckminster Dooku, formerly of the Jedi Order, and now self-imposed Darth Tyrannus (which no-one calls him) is holding the doddering old man hostage.

It seems there is some bad blood between the two, since Dooku traded off his entire food empire for... Goodness, I cannot be processing this correctly. I must be malfunctioning. It says here that Dooku traded it all for a yo-yo.

That's just silly. Far too silly for my wonderful reports. We here at C! (Cybertainment Holovision) will actually have to fact-check that bit of information. It was brought to us by a certain R2-D2, and I know for certain that he is just a miss-wired pile of scrap. He keeps leaving his dirty towels in the botroom floor every morning.

Thanks for reading and keep making saucy news, celebs, so I can keep bringing the scoop to my fabulous fans!

(Written by Rebecca)

Council of Doofuses

Spread out over the Republic the Jedi are. Stretched us thin the war has. Yet, arisen a dire situation has. The Council's immediate attention it demands. So called an emergency meeting was.

"Fellow members of the Council," I said, "relieved I am that come, so many of you could. Arisen, a very urgent matter has..."

"Sorry I'm late," Ki Adi Mundi's holographic transmission it was.

















"Master Mundi," I said, "see through you, I can! Hee hee hee hee hee hee!"

"Yes, well."

"Hee hee hee hee hee! Get it, do you? See through you I can! Hee hee hee hee!"

"OK, then."

"The matter what is, Mundi? Think it is funny you do not?"

"Oh, I thought it was quite humorous... the first seventeen times you said it."

"Made that joke before I have?"

"Master Yoda, you tell that joke at every Council meeting, every single time one of us attends via hologram. You really should have your mental acuity checked."

"Hmph! Forget this I will not! Anyway, on to the very urgent matter..."

"Hello? Hello? Can youns hear me now? Hello?" Kenobi's holographic transmission it was.

"Kenobi, take your finger off the button when done speaking you are..."

"Hello? Hello? Can youns hear me? I cain't hear none of youns."

"Kenobi! Your finger off the button take..."

"Hello? Can youns hear me?"

Across the vast stretch of space I reached with my mind... All the way to Kenobi I reached...

"YEOOOOWWWWW!"

A Force-wedgie I gave him.

"Kenobi, carefully to me listen. Your finger off the button you must take when speaking you are not. Otherwise, hear us you can not."

"OK, but now I cain't see none of youns."

"Turn around, Kenobi. The wrong way you are facing."

"Oh, yeah. I see youns now."

"Well, Kenobi, see through... uh, nevermind. Listen, everyone! A very urgent matter..."

SQUEEEEEEEAK!

"What the Mustafar is that?" Master T'un said.

"From outside that is. Jar Jar it is. Trying to pick up some extra credits by washing windows, he is."

"He's streaking up the windows."

"Surprised are you?"

"I guess not."

"Listen! A very, very urgent matter there is..."

Mundi interrupted, "For the love of the Force, man! What is it? I've almost used up my minutes for the month!"

"If interrupting me, everyone would stop, tell you I would! OK, here the urgent matter is... very dire the situation is... Broken, the ice cream machine in the Temple cafeteria is."

"Pardon me, Master Yoda," Master T'un said, "but shouldn't we discuss the Chancellor being kidnapped?"

"Fine! About something important I wanted to speak, but your way have it! Yes, kidnapped, the Chancellor has been. Abducted by..."

Just then, in Windu barged, "Sorry I'm late, man. What's all this about 'counting donkeys'?"

"No, Windu. Too much wax you have in your ears. Count Dooku, not 'counting donkeys'. Abducted Chancellor Palpatine, Count Dooku has."

"Oh, I guess that does make more sense."

"The question this raises," I said, "Do what about this, will we?"

"Whoa, man, I mean, just whoa!" Qui Gon Jinn said. To the meeting we had invited him, mostly because he would bring brownies, we hoped. Since invisible he is now, that he was there I almost forgot. "Like, what do you mean 'do what about this, will we'? We gotta go save Palps, man! We can't just let him die! That would be a total downer."

"Jinn," I said, "get us a batch of those brownies, would you?"

"Oh, uh, of course, Master."

Once his cowbell I could hear no longer, the Council I addressed again, "Really, should we do anything about this, the question is. I think the reason I ask this, we all know."

"It wrinkles my beautiful, shiny cranium to say this," Windu said, "but I agree with you. Palpatine is the Sith Lord. We all feel it. We all know it."

"Yes," Mundi agreed, "We all know this. We would be pretty stupid not to know it."

Windu nodded, "You got that right. We'd have to be idiots not to have figured that out after all these years! What with all of our Jedi wisdom and intuition, it wouldn't make any sense for us not to know! It... it... it would be like a really bad movie plot, or something!"

"But we can't prove it," Mundi added, "So, if we do nothing, and let the Chancellor die, we will be held accountable by the Republic. But if we save him, we will still have a Sith lord on our hands. And he will be more powerful than ever."

"Hello? Hello? I cain't hear youns no more. Hello?"

"Obi-wan," Windu said, "take your finger off... wait. Yoda, what are you doing? Have you cut off the sound to him?"

"A solution to our problem, I may have. Kenobi and Young Skywalker to rescue the Chancellor we will send."

"What?" Windu blurted.

"That's brilliant!" T'un said.

"Yes," Mundi agreed, "quite brilliant. Masterful, in fact."

"Yes, screw this up those two surely will. Rescue the Chancellor they will not. Already spanked by Dooku they have been. But see this, the people will not. Only that we have sent two of our 'best Jedi' to save the Chancellor they will see. Gone, the Sith lord will stay, and held accountable we will not be. Be solved, our problem will. Hmm... yes."

In agreement, the entire Council nodded.

Kenobi's sound I turned back on. "Kenobi, an important mission we have for you and Young Skywalker..."

Later, when about the mission Jinn heard, permission to go along, he asked. Hurt anything, it would not, I thought. Much good in a lightsaber fight Jinn never was. Always in his eyes, his long hippie hair would be.

Later, screaming we could hear outside the window, "Help! Meesa abouts to fallsa! Help!"

To the window we all ran.

From his harness, Jar Jar slipped and all the way to the ground he started to fall. On the way, struck by lightning several times he was. Then by several speeders he was hit. Then the ground he hit. A crater he made.

"Maybe he survived," Windu said, "there could be a chance."

Just then, over Jar Jar a steam roller rolled.

"There still might be a chance," Windu said.

Then, through the street a Bantha stampede ran.

"A Bantha stampede?" I said, "In the middle of Coruscant?"

Right on top of Jar Jar every single Bantha trampled.

"Well," T'un said, "that's something you don't see everyday."

"Now," Mundi interrupted, "about that ice cream machine..."

Okay. Thank you all for your patience.

I think we are finally ready to begin.

The "not ready for Star Wars players" are proud to present….

J.J. : Alone Time

Helllooooo?

Hmmm… There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. And I mean no one.

Wow. I guess this emergency meeting of the Jedi’s called in everyone in the Temple. Even Qui-Gon was asked to float in on it. I wonder what the trouble is?

Oh well. I guess if I’m faced with spending a few hours alone in this big ol place, I only have one recourse left to me….

Mace Windu: Stand up and Sing

What the hell is going on in this place?! Sheeeooot! As you may all well know, I am not a complainer. I’m a problem solver. When things go wrong, I like for everyone to come together, sit down, and talk about it for hours on end. It’s called getting in touch with your feelings, fool. You should try it some time.

Unfortunately, no one likes to talk at any great length in the Jedi Temple, except for maybe Master Yoda, and who can understand what the hell he’s saying half the time anyway.

But the Jedi Temple has been besieged with practical jokers of late. And most of them for some unknown reason are directed at me. Something the Force decided not reveal to me until after the fact. What the hell are force visions good for after the fact.

Take the other day. Someone decided it would be funny to spread Chia seeds on my beautiful scalp while I was sleeping. For days I had little green leaves sprouting all over my once wonderful cranium. It was maddening! It took me weeks of scalp treatments, moisturizing and pruning to get back my glowing beautiful man skull. And even now it’s not at its peek shininess. My crainiumologist suggested I try this…

And you know, the damn things actually work! And not a moment too soon. You see, being a Jedi knight and a present in the universe for good is all well and all but a man needs to feel like a man sometimes. A man needs to get out among other men and shine in all his gloriousness sometimes. A man needs to sing!!

That’s right! That’s what I said! Sing! Do you have a problem with that? Does singing and the occasional dancing make you less of a man? I thought not.

That’s why I signed myself up at the local community theater. There I can sing and dance and wear tights like other real men.

In fact, I got the lead in the new musical rendition of “Hair”. Yeah, you heard me. But you see, I’m a natural entertainer. I can pull off anything including singing about hair. In fact, the director said I was perfect for the part.

Now if I can just get some of the other Jedi to join up we’ll have a regular Hoot-n-nanny, as the kids say.

I got to go now. There seems to be some trouble at the galactic senate that the Jedi have to address. Something about Senator Palpatine being abducted by a donkey that counts, or something like that. What in the world has the Jedi been reduced to?!? Saving people from counting donkeys?

Hidden treasures

So okay, maybe it wasn’t the best of idea’s to put all of Qui-Gon’s souvenir junk in the room upstairs. How were we to know it was Yoda’s room? After all, it was Kenobi’s suggestion. Right there, that should have put up warning flags.

After that, Obi Wan had to see Yoda personally in the Jedi council room. I heard, what with all the force wedgies administered, ol Kenobi couldn’t sit down for a week.

Soon afterwards, Yoda had all that stuff sent to the Jedi treasury. My little shell-like ears picked up. A treasury? What could possibly be in there? The Jedi aren’t supposed to be interested in the monetary things of this world and they aren’t supposed to want for money. (For the life of me, I just can’t wrap my mind around that idea…)

Curious, I took a stroll down to the Jedi Vault on the pretext of wanting to check Qui-Gon’s stuff to make sure it was okay.

Inside I found the most unusual sites of my life. Within the Vault I saw hundreds of these rare toys.

That’s a good start for an Ewok.

Oooo! Look at the craftsmanship on that figure.

mmmm…and it smells like bacon too.

JawaJuice: Timeshare at the Temple

With our home gone, our brownie business lost, and hardly a credit to our name, Qui Gon and myself did the only thing two self-reliant beings could do.

We see if a friend will let us crash with them.

Qui insisted that Obi Wan would let us stay with him in the Jedi Temple. I was a bit more hesitant. I still have vivid nightmares of the other time we had to stay with him.

“Well, I’m sure we can stay in one of the empty rooms at the temple,” said Qui Gon. I remember there were plenty of empty rooms on the third floor for when we let the frogs out.”

I gave a wary sideways glance to my companion but thought better to ask.

So we hoofed it over to the Jedi Temple. Not much had changed since our last visit. I see Anakin and Padme are still involved in their not so clandestine love tryst. I think everyone knows about those two except those two. …and Obi Wan.

We first sought out Obs, who just happened to be in the meeting room with Mace Windu. It seems someone turned poor master Windu’s head into a Chia-Pet.

Doesn’t look that bad, actually. Unfortunately, he didn’t think so.

“Oh hell no!!! HELLLLLLL NOOOOO! When I get my hands on the fool who did this, I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger that would attempt to poison my pretty, pretty head. And he will know my name is Mace Windu when I lay my vengeance upon thee! What are you laughing at, Kenobi?”

After ol Ben stopped his snickering, he came and gave me a warm hug, which left a nice layer of Cheeto dust on my cowl. He then gazed at the floating poncho and cow bell next to me.

“Oh Jeez. Where did you get the cow force ghost?”

Suddenly something smacked him upside the head.

“Oh, master…is that you? I thought you was a cow. So um…are you guys back to watch the monster truck mud wrestling? They finally found a way to make two big, big, gigantic, big, big trucks wrestle. It’s like wrestling and trucks…together…”

“um…maybe later. Ya see, we’re a little down on our luck at the moment and wondered if we could crash here at the temple for a little while. Qui tells me there are some rooms on the third floor that are free.”
”Third floor? Um…I don’t think so, J.J. They converted most of those rooms so that we can play miniatures. But hey, there’s a free room just down the hall from mine if you two don’t mind sharing?”

“It will have to do. Let’s see it.”

Five minutes later and we were standing before…

“…a closet? You want us to live…in a closet?”

“Well, it is a big walk-in closet, J.J.,” consoled Qui Gon. “We can both fit in here for the time being.”

“Fine…what ever. Send in some cots…and a bucket of sand or two.”

Just then a man from GPS (Galactic Percales Service) walked up to us. “Mr. Q.G. Jinn?”

“I’ll sign for him,” I told the man. “What is it?”

”I got 48 boxes shipped from the Tropic-0 cruse line.”

“Oh wow man…That’s like…all my souvenirs. That will make the place all homey like.”

“Um…I hate to break it to you Q.G., but as you can see, our new living accommodations…AINT GONNA FIT ALL THAT CRAP! I mean, look at all this stuff? Where are we going to put it?”

“Oh, hey, I know…” Obi Wan jumped in. “There’s another closet space on one of the top floors of the temple. Not too many people go up there. You can use that.”

“Sure no one is going to mind?”

”OH no. I never see anyone in there anyway. It’s all good.”

“Well, as long as it doesn’t belong to anyone…”

Later….

"Hrumph!"

JawaJuice: Homecoming

So here we are. Back on Coruscant. The busiest damn planet in the galaxy. I had forgotten how busy this place is. It’s amazing what a year cruising on the gigantic water planet of Tropic-0 will have on calming the ol nerves. Balmy breezes…golden sunsets…lush little islands where I can stick my tootsies in the warm sand.

(oooooooh….sand…..)

And it just took one day back to completely shatter those lovely relaxed nerves.

I suppose I got a lot of catching up to do. Not that there’s much to say for this past year. Me and Qui Gon have been like mellow kittens sailing around the world. Lord knows we needed a break. What with everything we’ve been through the year before.

(For those of you new to the exploits of Jawa Juice and Qui Gon, may we direct you to these nifty little sites…

Be warned: there will be a test later.)

But after a while I’ve been getting an itch, (No-no…not that itch. I went to the doctors and got that cleared up, thanks) to get myself back into the swing of things. You see I’m a Jawa. We Jawas live on business. It’s in our blood. As well as old dish rags, Buick Skylark hubcaps, trace amounts of rare radioactive isotopes, and a blood alcohol level that would kill a Bantha. But I digress.

It was time to return to our booming brownie business. Uncle Jinn and J.J.’s Super Fudgy “special spiced” brownies! Selling these suckers was how we were able to afford taking off a year and stay afloat.

Sorry. That pun was only worthy of Tak.

Near the end of our vacation, two things began to happen. (Well, three if you count that Qui-Gon’s poncho-which I don’t think was ever washed once and was getting more funky than James Brown. Now, I know dirty hippy is usually a stereotype but…ohmygod…that thing could walk on its own after a while.) The first was the enormous amount of souvenirs we had acquired. Or should I say…Qui Gon acquired. You see, Qui Gon is a fantastic guy. The best partner a Jawa could have and an amazing friend –cowbell and all. But he does have a tendency to…um…buy a lot of…shall we say…crap.

Tropic-0 is a huge water planet dotted with a myriad of tropical islands and on each island is a port and in each port there are literally hundreds of souvenir huts all around. And Qui-Gon has found all of them.

During our months of vacation, that man…eh…force ghost…must have bought every little nick-nak and curio from every vender on every island. Things like cocoanut lamp shades, plastic tiki idols that also open bottles with their gaping mouths, straw hats made from indigenous plant life in hundreds of shapes, colors and sizes, shot glasses by the truck load (those are okay…) any and every conceivable jewelry you can make from puka shells, snack bags of Funyons (no, it doesn’t matter that they’re the same damn things you could get anywhere in the galaxy), tons of t-shirts with witty sayings like “Gotta go to Tropic-0”, swim wear in bright colors never seen before in nature, miniature plam tree shaped tooth picks/swizzle sticks….the list just goes on.

And that’s part of the problem. At first I thought, eh! What ever. But he’s gotten so much stuff over the months that we just don’t have any more room in our stateroom…or the entire row of staterooms we bought out. In fact it had become so crowded with this crap that I couldn’t find the bathroom to take a crap. (I hope Qui doesn’t look too carefully at the stains on his velvet paintings…)

So with our rooms running out of room, I knew it was time to return home. I made him promise to buy a storage unit for all this stuff when we return and I promised him I would look into housebreaking lessons.

But that was only half the reason we had to return.

The other half had to do with our money itself. You see, we’ve been living on our brownie royalties while away, but month after month the money being wired to us was coming in smaller and smaller amounts.

When we left, Qui-Gon and I left Dooku to look after our business, after having him swear to Qui-Gon on a stack of ancient crumpet recipes that he would look after our interests like they were his own. He owed us for helping him revert from a Sleestak back to his normal self. Don’t ask. Long story. Looking back, that may not have been the brightest thing I’ve done, but hell, I was probably drunk at the time.

Now I’m beginning to wonder if the old coot is skimming our profits for his little lonesome.

So nearly creditless, we decided to take our leave and hop on the next transport to Coruscant. (After a brief stay at the old homestead on Tatooine. I had a hankering for some good ol home cooking. Yum!) ((Yeah, I know. A lot of links. What else do you have to do?))

So here we are. Back again. After such a long flight I would have loved to just head back to our kicking penthouse apartment but I knew the problem with Dooku would be hovering over my head all night. So Qui and I high tailed it over to the Uncle Jinn and J.J. factory for a little sit down.

Sure enough, Ol Dooks was there in our office, sitting in a brown leather chair sipping a cuppa something and reading over the recent Variety magazine. We must have surprised him because he instantly began choking on his tea the moment he saw us.

Oh wait…no. That’s right. He was choking because I had my HANDS AROUND HIS WITHERED TURKEY NECK SQUEEZING THE LIFE OUT OF HIM!!!

“Woah Woah! J.J. Ease up, dude. Give him a chance to explain,” Qui-Gon tried to tell me in-between my power lunges. Qui-Gon, now being one with the force, couldn’t really grab me, but he does have a dizzying effect if he waves his hands through my head. (Or maybe it’s the spice I’m smelling.) In any case, that’s exactly what he did just as I was turning Dooks’ throat into origami. The effect stunned me long enough for Dooku to rush to his feet.

“Good lord. Is that anyway for civilized people to greet each other? Even for a Jawa? You’re lucky I don’t smite you down and take away your diners club card.” He then turned to Qui-Gon. “What’s all this about, ol chap? Who put the bee in J.J.’s cummerbund?”

“Um…well…it’s like this, master. He seems to have this thought of…well…like you’ve been ripping us off while we’ve been away.”

“That’s preposterous. The fee you two have provided me has kept me comfortably flush. There’s no reason for me to steal from you.”

“Says you, ya second rate vampire,” I yelled back at him.

“Now, now. There’s no reason to bring up my past…”

“I can assure you, I have not been stealing from your business. I gave you my word, Qui ol chap, that I would watch over your business while I was gone and that’s just what I did.

“Then where did the money go, Mcdooku?”

“Perhaps it went to its rightful owner…namely me.”

The three of us spun around. In he walked. All decked out in his senatorial digs and holding a bag of Oreos. My snack food nemesis….Palpatine!!!

“What do you mean, rightful owner?? Qui-Gon and I are the rightful owners of this brownie empire,” I screeched back at him.

“Were…would be a more precise term. You see, while you two were away getting banana boat tan lines, I was busy launching a hostile takeover of your company. It was rather easy, actually. You would be amazed at just how few people you have to kill before they give you what ever you demand.”

Qui-Gon turned to his former master and I could see the betrayal in his eyes. Or was that mascara? Hard to tell these days.

“Oh man…Dooks. This is like…no way man…You’re like bumming my high. I trusted you to look after our business. And…and you like…woah…”

“He had nothing to do with it,” Palpatine said smoothly walking over to our desk. “But once I completed the hostile takeover of your puny brownie business, I kept our Count Dooku around. After all, he was under contract. He had no choice but to obey his Sith Lo- …I mean, his employer.”

“So…that means…YOU now own Uncle Jinn and J.J.’s brownies?!?”

“That is right. And you are in MY office, now,” he said reaching into the top drawer of the desk and taking out a tiny cute kitten.

“But the money we’ve been receiving all these months…?”

“A small gratuity…for using your likeness.” He smiled stroking the little gray and white animal.

“And what of our brownies…” Qui asked.

“I will incorporate them into my line of fatty snack foods, replacing the famed ingredients with imitation lard # 5 and Bantha bone marrow!!!” He maniacally cackled, snapping the head off the kitten and tossing it in the trash bin with the others. Funny how I didn’t see those when I walked in.

He then pressed the button on his intercom. “Jenkins!!! More kittens! I’m feeling rather evil at the moment. Oh…and send in the gungar guards. I have some rabble to throw out into the street!”

Three and a half minutes later, our asses were resting on the curb. I just sat there…stunned. I couldn’t believe it. Everything I worked for…gone. Qui Gon was even more distressed, I think. He kept shaking his head and mumbling “he can’t replace my spice with lard #5…he just can’t…he just can’t…”

It was getting dark. There was nothing we could do about it tonight. I got up, lit a new cigar and flagged down another cab.

“C’mon Qui, Let’s go home. I’ll be dammed if I let that second rate Vader touch our warm brownies but there ain’t nothing I can do about it tonight. I need some sleep. Looks like you could use some too. Let’s get back to the pad and get some rest. We can bitch-slap this guy tomorrow. Gods, I hope at least our I-SUC unit has been holding down the fort for us at home while we were gone…and uh, hasn’t tried to kill himself again.”

With a little coaxing on my part, I got Qui settled into the cab and we zoomed across town. I got to admit, he looked pretty stunned.

A half hour later, the speeder cab stopped at 10100101101101101 1^st street – our home. But when we got out of the cab…I couldn’t believe my little flashlight-like eyes. Somehow in our absences our home…the whole building in fact…. had been replaced by a Galactic sized Wal-Mart!!!

In one day, our brownie business and our luxury penthouse apartment…gone.

What more could happen?

“Hey Mac,” the Toydarian cabbie yelled at me. “That’ll be eight hundred and fifty credits.”