Friday, September 30, 2005

De Tings Jah Hear

Last night, I be serving drinks at de Nerf and Mynock, mon. And jah know who I saw? Obi-Wan! Now, dis wouldn't ordinarily be too surprisen to me, but jah see, dere was a big wrestling match on dat night - a heavyweight championship. Not only dat, but it be a grudge match too - de challenger had insulted de champion's hairstyle. Now, I did'na be knowen what could make Obi miss a heavyweight championship match, but it had ta be important. So, I asked him. Obi swallowed his bottle o' beer, asked for another, and den told me.

If I wrote down here what Obi said, mon, jah would'na be able to read it. But jah see, Obi's problem was dat Aayla had dumped him. De reason he did'na be watchen de wrestlen match be because he and Aayla had been going to go dere on a date, and it be hurten his soul, mon.

He said a lot o' tings about how bad his life be, mon. I told him dat he'd get over it and dat Aayla might even come back to him if he be nice.
I be very glad I don't be haven' any bones, mon, 'cause if I did, Obi's bear-hugs would crush 'em.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Rum

Let me tell jah a little someting about de best drink in de whole universe, mon.

Rum be invented on Kessel, back in de early days o' de Republic. De spice miners be dissolven de spice in ethanol to maken what be de forerunner o' modern Quermian rum. After enjoyen centuries o' local popularity on Kessel, rum was imported to Quermia. Dis may have been de single event dat most shaped Quermian history from dat point on, mon.

Rums be made in different ways and have different flavours on different planets. De Kessel rums be de best, mon, since de spice miners still use de original recipies (and ingredients...). Dey have a nice golden color. Dark brown rums be from Quermia, where we be includen de juices o' some of our native plants, like sugarcane. Clear rums be from Corellia, and these don't be very good in my opinion since de taste is a little boring to me, but a lot o' work still be goin' into maken dem and many people be liken' dem.

Rum smugglin' be a great business to invest in, mon. My boss, Brett, be haven' a lot o' money invested in illegally shippen' Kessel rum to Coruscant. I be haven' at least twice as much. Some captains like to drain de rum off when dey reach Coruscant to get de spice back out. Dis be sacrilege to a great drink, mon.

Now, if jah want to get drunk, jah know what to pick.
(Kids under 16, talk to jah parents about it first, mon)

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Jedi Psych Test

Master Yoda be instituten' a psychological exam for all de Jedi. Well, I'm not saying I'm gonna come crawling back to dem, mon (I'm NOT, honest), but I thought I should give it a try.

1. When I find a cheeto on de floor, I do de happy dance, mon. Jah would do de same ting if jah knew Obi - any cheeto dat be on de floor is a cheeto dat he ain't gonna be eaten if I have anyting to say about it.

2. Skin care? I be dead, mon. But even when I was alive, I didn't see de point. I like me skin de way it be, mon - leathery and infested wit'... never mind.

3. Professional wrestling? Hey, mon, I love de stuff. But it be fake. Maybe it don't be *supposed* to be fake, but ever since I took ta usen' voodoo on de contestants as a hobby, it might as well be, mon.

4. Well, if jah name jah feminine side, jah goin' too far. I tink Mace's is called Dorothy.

5. If I wake up wit' de sniffles, I go much further dan Legionaire's disease. I ain't meant to have a nose, mon, and if I wake up one morning and have a nose, den I be worried.

6. I ain't never seen Ernest Goes to Camp, but any movie dat Obi likes must be pretty silly.

7. My arpits be some o' de finest musical instruments in history, mon. De bongos may outshine dem, but dey still be great.

8. And I know I don't be crazy because... Well, how could a crazy person understand dat rum be de best drink in de universe, mon?

I be hopen' I pa- eh... I mean, I don't be caren' if I pass, because de Jedi be stupid anyway.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Late Hours

I been asked why de Nerf and Mynock closes at twelve, mon. I found de answer last night, and I still be fighten off a hangover. It be closen *officially* at midnight. From midnight till three, it be an illegal casino. Well, I had hoped ta have a job dat be on de right side o' de law, but hey, a guy needs a bit o' fun in his (after)life, mon!

My boss, Brett, be sayen dat dis be where we be maken' de real profit, but sometimes he be needen' a Force-adept to calm down some o' de worst brawls - dat be why he be concerned about how I be a Jedi. Well, de good ting about being a Force-ghost is dat there be a piece o' jah CV walkin' around wit' jah. O' course, I could tell jah about de disadvantages.

But anyway, dis job got a lot more to it dan be meeten' de eye. Brett be sayen' dat a lot o' people who be embarassed to go see a shrink be comen' to their bartender first. *Shrugs* I don't got a degree in psychology, but as long as dey don't pay me, I don't be seein' how de professionalism part matters immensely.

And de last part o' me job - dis bit, I love - is dat Brett be too stingy to hire a band for entertainment. So I get to play de bongos! My top two arms for serving drinks, de other pair for playing de music - I tink dis could work out well.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Last Orders, Mon

After painful experiences in telepolls, street magic, and cashier duty, I be haven' a good job, mon! Today, I be floaten' past de Jedi temple. To tell jah de truth, I were about to swallow my pride and beg for a job dere. But I were saved at de last minute from a life o' servitude (and probably a lot o' horrible chores as well).

"Hey there! You've got the look of a dead Jedi about you!" Well, if jah say so.
"I haven't been dead all dat long, mon." I be taken a look at dis guy - he be a smallish human wit' short, light brown hair and wearen' a "leather" jacket dat look like it be made o' de skins o' several different diseased animals. But hey, since when do I be caren' about how jah dress, mon?
"That doesn't matter, I was just making conversation. Are you up for a job?"
"How'd jah know dat, mon?"
"Oh, just the little rosette on your robe that says 'Desperate for work'." I be hiden' de rosette hurriedly.
"So, jah got a vacancy, mon?"
"Depends. Ever wanted to be a bartender?"
"Well, I be tryen' everyting else..." and I really didn't want to be beggen' de council for my job back at a janitor's salary. He be tellen me dat his name be Brett, and told me to meet him at de bar at five.

So, I be meeten' him dat night at de bar, de Nerf and Mynock. Dis may well be de perfect job for me, mon. I get to look at bottles o' rum all evening, stay up all night and sleep till de next afternoon. Sadly, Brett found out I be haven' a blog. So, now I got to advertise here.
*enter advertising mode*
So come on down to de Nerf and Mynock, mon. Open from five till midnight!

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Another day, another job, next please.

I be approached in de street today by a smiling Toydarian (a rare ting in itself, mon), who be asken me to take a job at his hardware store. I didn't be knowen why he chose me, but I took de job anyway. Jah be a moron, Yarael, mon...
De hardware store, Bojaa's Junk and Stuff, be one o' de most disgusting cesspools of poor hygeine and malpractice I ever be seein', mon. But it be a job. I was made de cashier dere.

De first customer be looken for a wrench. So simple... Bojaa spent ten minutes rooting through a pile of rusted metal at de back o' de shop, picked out a piece o' corroded iron, and bent it into a wrench shape. De customer was a Mon Calimari, and his skin be quite weak. De sharp corners o' de wrench are not tings dat amphibious creatures should be handling, mon. It did not be a deep or big cut, but Bojaa tried to dress de wound. It would have been kinder not to - de poor guy had to go to hospital when de cut was infected. Dis shop be full o' virulent oozes.

Den, we had a Dug here. Now, Dugs be mean and nasty as a rule, but even so, he did not be desrven it, mon. He be wanten a plasma cell. Bojaa be tellen him dat we not be haven any plasma cells here. But we did, mon, dere was one on de shelf right behind him, and de Dug pointed dis out. Bojaa picken up de cell, and handen it over. After de Dug left, Bojaa washed his hands and explained dat de cell had a leak, and he didn't be wanten to have plasma all over his hands. I be sayen dat maybe he shouldn't have sold a leaky cell.
"Hey, it ain't going to hurt nobody unless he sticks in in a speeder, eh?"
De next minute, an ambulance be comen past de shop, and we heard somebody talken about an exploden speeder.

...
I resigned (but not before tippen de police off).

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Street Magic

Remind me not to be taken Fluke Starbucker's advice ever again, mon.

Dis mornin', I went to downtown Coruscant to try and be getten some credits doin' magic on de streets. My first efforts were painful, mon. Floating in de middle of a skyway with cars flyin' right through jah do not be a good way to spend jah mornin'. After a while, I be deciden to try on de sidewalk rather dan de middle of de road.

So, I start usen de Force to impress people. Dat not be lasten long though - a Jedi came along and say dat I be infringen on copywright laws. Copywright. I be a Jedi, and I not be rememberen any copywright! Oh... unless he meant *dat* copywright law dat started de whole millennia-long feud between de Jedi and de Sith... Dat one.

Anyway, I got to doin' some sleight-of-hand tricks. Quermians got four arms - we be out o' everyone else's league! I can do de "which cup is de pea under" trick wit' seven cups if I be concentraten hard enough! De problem be, I be too good for me own good. I be drawen spectators from two blocks away, and de other street magic performers don't be jammin' to dat.

Dey started tryen to muscle in on me crowds. Den, I had to break out de real magic: voodoo. Unfortunately, there be some law or other about magically assaulting citizens of Coruscant...

Well, dat career be over with now. Although, I did get to use Fluke's favorite trick: My disappearen act. POOF!

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Finden A Niche

Now dat I be back in de swing o' tings, I got to find someting to be doin' wit' me time, mon. De Jedi temple threw me out - they've been looking for an excuse for damn near thirty years now - so I can't get a job wit' dem. Today, I be tryin' to get a job at de Coruscant telephone polling offices. De job be to ring people up on de phones and be asken dem who dey be voten for in de next senatorial elections. It be a boring job, but I got to have someting to get paid for, mon, or I be running out of rum pretty soon. First, I be assigned to Naboo. It be seemin pointless - I don't tink Senator Amidala be likely to get voted out anytime soon - but *apparently* someone got ta do it.

Dis job be goin' badly. So what if I be usen de force to change peoples' opinions? Distorting de statistics - bah! If I want ta *convince* one person in every hundred to vote for - say - Yoda as de Naboo Senator, den I tink it should be part o' de compensation for such a boring job, eh mon? De statisticians not be seeing it my way, and I be fired after one day.

Where to go next?

Sunday, September 11, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Epilogue

Back on Coruscant, Yarael finally recieved the meditation training from Qui-Gon Jinn he had been desperate for since the beginning of the saga. He can now interact at will with the physical world, play his bongo drums, and drink his rum.

Jawajuice, now pleasantly in control of the brownie market, has already turned thousands of teenagers back to the Light Side of Cuisine, and is contemplating the release of a new extra-strong flavor called the "E'etooi" - warning: side effects may include nausea, vomiting, dizziness, hallucinations and/or schitzophrenia.

Jar Jar has come to terms at last with the usefulness and validity of voodoo as a form of magic, but sees no reason to turn from traditional Gungan shamanism as of yet.

Qui-Gon and Count Dooku, reunited at last, tried to plan a comeback tour of the galaxy, and although they were thwarted by Dooku's sinister master, their music remains immortal.

Meanwhile, in the cold of space...
A lone escape pod hurtles through the frozen infinity of stars, driven by no more than the lack of friction in the void. In the pod, a shadowy figure plots his revenge...
E'etooi: All shall suffer for my downfall... SUFFER!

The End... for now.

At Peace... Almost - Finale

Rooku McDooku's warehouse has been obliterated along with the secret recipies for his fast food (but General Grievous is all right, thanks for asking), and his space station has been crippled, but one task remains...
Jawajuice's space buggy flies in through the hangar of the slowly decaying Darth Star (tm), smashing against the walls more than a few times. Yarael and Jawajuice emerge, to find Jawajuice's amoral (and crazy) uncle E'etooi waiting for them...

Yarael: Jah gonna pay for all de teenagers jah gave heart diseases, E'etooi.
Jawajuice: We'll take him together. You go in slowly on the left-
Yarael (running at E'etooi and igniting his lightsabre): I be taken him now, mon!
Jawajuice: No, Yarael!
Predictably, Yarael's lightsabre drops through his hand.
Yarael: Uh-oh.
E'etooi takes a stale bantha burger from inside his Jawa robe and lobs it at Yarael. It smacks the deceased Jedi in the face and knocks him down.
E'etooi: Whoa. That one was really stale. As you can see, my deep-frying powers are far beyond yours.
Jawajuice: Uh... yeah. That could be a problem.
They fight, throwing brownies and burgers at each other. E'etooi's bantha burgers are stale and sometimes mouldy, but Jawajuice... well, he must have some advantage, since he doesn't lose immediately. However, he is soon struck in the face by a particularly rancid piece of deep-fried fatty meat. E'etooi comes close to deliver the finishing blow...
E'etooi: They never told you what happened to your father, did they?
Jawajuice: Eh? What?
E'etooi: Jawajuice... I am your father.
Jawajuice: Uh... That doesn't make any sense. You're my uncle.
E'etooi: I'm crazy, okay, bear with me.
As the Jawas argue, Yarael gets back on his ethereal feet and prepares a voodoo curse to strike E'etooi down. However, the evil (and crazy) Jawa notices. He knocks out Jawajuice with a swift punch, then turns to Yarael.
E'etooi: Brave of you, witch doctor. I would have thought you'd learnt your lesson.
Yarael: Lesson? What lesson jah be talken about, mon?
He attempts to thrust a pin through his voodoo doll, but E'etooi knocks him unconscious again with an extra-large pack of fries, then makes for his escape ship nearby. However, just as he is about to leave...
Jar Jar: Stoppen right dere.
E'etooi: Jar Jar Binks.
Jar Jar: E'etooi Mab'oo'tini'oobitt'ta'eetooni.
E'etooi: You have interfered with my plans for the last time.
He holds out his right hand and attempts to clog Jar Jar's arteries with saturated fat. The gungan is unmoved.
Jar Jar: Yousa hassen becomen muy powerful, E'etooi, but mesa sensen der deep-fried side in yousa.
E'etooi: I am more powerful than any cook... Even Jawajuice.
He gestures to his nephew's unconscious form.
Jar Jar: Words can noah settlen thissen. Wesa fighten!
He leaps into the air, hurling explosive potions and boomas in all directions. E'etooi counters with several volleys of stale bantha burgers, but is overwhelmed.
Jar Jar: Yousa hassen fighten well, old friend.
E'etooi: This is just the beginning.
He breaks out of the fight and runs for his ship. He just manages to get in before Jar Jar's boomas start bursting against the closed door. As the ship takes off, Qui-Gon enters from the brig, Count Dooku in tow.
Jar Jar: Hesa issen getten away!
Count Dooku: Care for one last song, Quiggy old chap?
Qui-Gon's eyes fill with tears.
Qui-Gon: Like, any time, buddy!
They both pull massive guitars from behind their backs and begin playing one of their greatest hits from back in the good old days: Some Jedi to Love. Out in space, E'etooi's ship begins to buckle.
E'etooi: Uh-oh.
The escape craft implodes under the force of the reighteous music, taking E'etooi with it... Or did it?

To be continued...

Saturday, September 10, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Part 9

Back on Serenno, Jar Jar finishes his mixture of Hutt slime and Fambaa spit, and sloshes it around Yarael's chalk pentagram on the ground. Yarael, meanwhile, completes the tricky task of weaving a wicker model of the Darth Star (tm). Jawajuice's space buggy lands beside the ritual circle, and the Jawa and the Jedi emerge.

Jawajuice: Mission accomplished!
Yarael: Well, what did jah get?
Jawajuice: Paint.
Yarael: Paint?
Qui-Gon: To be fair, it was, like, damn expensive paint.
Yarael: Oh, fine, fine.
He rushes over to scrape some from the side of the space buggy.
Jar Jar: Hey! Yousa ready?
Yarael: Yah, mon. Now-
Three droid starfighters dive out of the sky, guns blazing.
General Grievous: You didn't think I'd *aaah-kooahfah!* let you destroy the Darth Star (tm), did you? Attack!
Yarael: Uh oh.
Qui-Gon draws his lightsabre and starts delfecting blaster bolts, Jar Jar flings boomas with lamentable accuracy, and Jawajuice stands around looking concerned.
Yarael: Hey! Jar Jar! Jah gonna do more harm dan good, mon! Give JJ de boomas and come help me here!
Jar Jar: Noah way! Mesa noah gonna helpen wit' der voodoo!
He takes out Jawajuice with a poorly-aimed booma.
Jar Jar: Er... Maybe issen a better idea, after all.
He joins Yarael and starts chanting.
Qui-Gon: Uh... make this quick!
He destroys one of the smaller starfighters with a deflected shot, then sends one spiralling into the ground with a well-aimed Force blast.
General Grievous: Hah! Nice shot, but you won't beat - *cough**hack**a-koofh**k'oah**k'oah**k'oah*...
He continues coughing for so long that he loses control of the fighter and crashes into McDooku's warehouse, destroying it.
Qui-Gon (rolls eyes): Get an inhaler, man...
Yarael: It be done, mon! Now, let's see how de Darth Star (tm) stands up to dis!
He picks up the voodoo doll and rams a pin through it.

Up in space, the main engines of the Darth Star (tm) suddenly and mysteriously fizzle out and explode, leaving the space station adrift.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Part 8

Yarael, with a little grudging assistance from Jar Jar, has prepared his ritual for the construction of his voodoo doll of the Darth Star (tm). High above, Jawajuice and Qui-Gon endeavor to acquire a piece of the battle station for the spell...

Qui-Gon: Like, bummer! The Darth Star (tm) doesn't have the original aerial! Count Dooku must have ripped it off!
Jawajuice: We'll have to aim for something else... How about the new aerial?
Qui-Gon: No way! That's, like, a customized transmitter - I reckon it can recieve signals from halfway across the galaxy. Count Dooku would notice if we took it out - it'd be even worse than scratching the paintwork.
Jawajuice: Hmm... the paintwork...
Qui-Gon: I've got a bad feeling about this...
Jawajuice starts flicking switches left and right, revving up the custom Space Buggy and pushing it well beyond the recommended safety levels for fuel intake.
Jawajuice: Here goes nothing! You'd better hold onto something, Qui!
Qui-Gon rolls his eyes.
Qui-Gon: "Hold onto something"? I haven't been able to hold onto anything, like, since I died.
Jawajuice: Forget it, then. Let's go!
He takes his foot off the brake pedal, and the buggy rockets forward towards the Darth Star (tm).
Qui-Gon: Oh, we're gonna die... Well, you're gonna die...
Jawajuice: I think not! Whoohoo!
Turning a fraction of a degree to the left, the buggy cannons past the side of the Darth Star (tm) and scrapes the side, taking some of the incredibly expensive vacuum-resistant paint with it.
Jawajuice: Great! We've got it! Let's get back to Jar Jar and Yarael.
Qui-Gon: I hear you there, man.

Now armed with a vital (aesthetically speaking) piece of the Darth Star (tm), Jawajuice and Qui-Gon head back to Yarael's impromptu ritual circle. But will Jawajuice's obsessive (and crazy) uncle E'etooi let his nephew and his nephew's ghostly partner get away with scratching the paintwork...?

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Part 7

In orbit around the planet, Jawajuice's vile (and crazy) uncle E'etooi docks with Rooku McDooku's space station, the Darth Star (tm), in his pogo-powered space buggy. Count Dooku meets him in the docking area.

Count Dooku: Darth Chipzandburgaz, simply smashing to see you again old boy, eh what? Here on business, old chap? Would you like a spot of tea and-
E'etooi: Spare me your ramblings, fool. I'm taking command of McDoooku's!
Count Dooku: What? But... Oh, that's just not cricket!
He ignites his lightsabre. E'etooi holds out his hand.
E'etooi: Feel the pain of obesity!
Count Dooku: Oof!
E'etooi: High cholesterol!
Count Dooku: Urg!
E'etooi: And arteries choked with unsaturated fat!
Count Dooku: Oof-
He throws up on the floor, convulsing.
E'etooi (addressing the droids): Take him away and lock him in the brig. It's time for me to take over and destroy Uncle Jinn & JJ's once and for all...

Meanwhile, on Serenno...

Yarael: I got a bit o' E'etooi's hair before he left. Dis voodoo doll will show jah where he be hidin. I can't be usen it for regular voodoo, but it be starten' to glowin' brighter de closer it gets to E'etooi.
Jar Jar: Hmph. Mesa could have doin better.
Qui-Gon: So, like, where is the little guy?
Yarael: He be in orbit around de planet. He must be on McDooku's space station.
Jawajuice: My little space buggy can't take on the Darth Star! That thing's huge!
Yarael: Jah don't be needin' to. I can be makin' a voodoo doll o' de space station!
Jar Jar: Yousa noah can doin' voodoo on a spaceship! Stupid.
Yarael: Jah be knowin' noting, mon. Jus' jah be watchin' me.
Jar Jar: Hmph.
Qui-Gon: Don't you need, like, a piece of the station?
Yarael: Well, jah space buggy must have some weapons. Jus' shoot of a piece and bring it back to me - someting no one be noticin'.
Jawajuice: I'll knock off the radio aerial. No one uses them anyway - you need custom ones to get good reception.
Yarael: Right, mon. Let's be movin' den!

Sunday, September 04, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Part 6

After listening to E'etooi's disturbing (and crazy) soliloquy, we return to our heroes (that's Yarael, Jawajuice, Qui-Gon and Jar Jar - but if you need to be reminded, then go back and read everything again) as they head for Serenno at maximum warp in Jawajuice's space buggy. Oh, and Yarael happens to be trying to kill the others.

Jar Jar: Goin faster! Goin faster!
Jawajuice (frantically pushing random buttons): Didn't you read the intro? We're already going at maximum warp!
Qui-Gon: This thing needs, like, some extra-special fuel.
He takes a case of Uncle Jinn & JJ's spiced brownies from inside his robe.
Qui-Gon: This'll do it!
He runs to the furnace at the back of the ship and drops in the brownies. The space buggy doubles in speed and rushes on towards Serenno.
Qui-Gon: Radical, man!
Yarael is left behind, floating in space and trying to catch up.

Five minutes later, in the lobby of Rooku McDooku's warehouse on Serenno...

Jawajuice: Look at this place... There's so much Dark Side power in these crates of burgers...
Qui-Gon: Hey, who's that?
E'etooi: Mwahahahaha! Buhuwhahahahaha! You've stumbled right into my trap!
Jawajuice: Uncle E'etooi! I knew it! I'm not sure how I knew it, but I did, trust me.
Jar Jar looks around.
Jar Jar: Wassen issen thissen trap? Mesa noah seein a trap.
E'etooi: Well... admittedly, there isn't a trap here *yet*. But if you wait a little while, I'll set one up for you.
Jawajuice: Oh no you don't!
E'etooi: Oh yes I do! Yarael, destroy them!
Yarael floats down through the ceiling and ignites his lightsabre.
Jar Jar: Ulp.
Yarael: Now jah be dyin'!
Qui-Gon: That's, like, totally not cool, man. Eat brownie!
He lobs a brownie at Yarael.
E'etooi: That won't work, fools! He needs *really* healthy food to bring him back to the Light Side of Cuisine!
Qui-Gon: Hmm... Luckily, I have just the thing.
He reaches into his robe.
Jar Jar: Issen thassen...?
Qui-Gon: A head of lettuce! Here you go, Poof!
The head of lettuce sails through the air towards Yarael and bursts, scattering leaves everywhere.
Yarael: Wha- Tanks for dat, mon. I be all right now.
E'etooi: Nooooo!
Jawajuice: Wait, wait, wait. Why did you have a head of lettuce with you?
Qui-Gon (shrugs): It moved the plot forward.
E'etooi: You may have taken my slave from me, but you'll never win! The time has come for me to stage my grand takeover of McDooku's! Hahahahaha!
He pulls a pogo stick from behind his back, bounces a few times to gain speed, then bounces right through the roof, smashing wood and plastic as he goes.
Yarael: We got to be followin' him, mon!
Jawajuice: Well...
Yarael: Oh, come on, mon! Jah got to save jah brownie company!
Jawajuice: I suppose...

As E'etooi bounces to freedom on his pogo stick, Yarael and co. prepare to save the galaxy from the evil of deep-fried fast food...

At Peace... Almost - Part 5

Deep in the shadowy warehouse of Rooku McDooku's Serenno branch office, Jawajuice's crazy uncle E'etooi soliloquises to a box of stale bantha burgers about how he became so evil, why he wants revenge on his sane nephew, and why he wants to take over McDooku's...

E'etooi: You know, box of stale bantha burgers, they thought I was happy. Happy in that dusty trailor park - what? Yes, everything *is* dusty on Tatooine, but that's not the point, my dear box of stale bantha burgers. Where was I? Ah yes. My clan actually thought I was happy in that trailor park, surrounded by cigarette butts and squashed cans of soft drink and joints of Kessel Spice, with nothing and no one to keep me company but a few pieces of roadkill, whom I befriended and worked my taxidermic arts upon. Nothing and no one...
He glares at the ceiling for a few seconds, then loses interest and looks back to the box of stale bantha burgers, apparently his only friend in the world.
E'etooi: Until, box of stale bantha burgers, someone came to me. Hidden in my trailor park sanctum, I was sought out by a man who sundered apart my roadkill taxidermy collection with blasts of force-lightning. Murder most foul...
E'etooi's eyes burn with rage as he remembers this event.
E'etooi: That was my first meeting with Count Dooku. You won't need them anymore, he said, sweeping aside my poor friends... And then, for some strange reason, he offered me a job here. I can only assume that he came to my trailor park to do this in the first place. I suppose my taxidermy was not to his oh-so-refined tastes. What's that, box o stale bantha burgers? Why do I want Jawajuice to suffer? I want my whole clan to suffer! Would it have been too difficult to find me a decent retirement home? For the rest of his family, the grief of his passing will be punishment enough. But Jawajuice himself... the one who made the choice to leave me in that trailor park - too cheap to even pay for me to stay in a mental hospital - must die. And of course, killing Qui-Gon Jinn will make it much easier to take over their brownie company. But I have talked for too long, box of stale bantha burgers. It is time for me to put my great plans into motion!
He takes a bantha burger from the box and leaves the room, munching thoughtfully.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Part 4

Meanwhile, back at Jawajuice's apartment...

Qui-Gon: Man, I hope Yarael's, like, okay. It'd be a real bummer if he, like, died. Again.
Jawajuice: You worry too much, Quiggy old pal. In fact, I think that's Yarael right there.
He points out the window at a ghostly figure with a ridiculously long neck wafting at breakneck speed (yes, *wafting*) towards the apartment. Yarael moves through the wall effortlessly.
Qui-Gon: Great, you're back! How'd it go?
Yarael: Jah be de enemies of de master... jah must be exterminated...
Jawajuice: What? What's going on? And doesn't your speech usually show up in teal, not grey?
Qui-Gon: Uh... little buddy, I think something's, like, wrong with the poof-meister. Look at his waistline.
Jawajuice (gasps): He's so fat! Only one thing can make someone get that unhealthy so fast... Yarael has turned to the Dark Side of Cuisine!
Yarael turns to Jawajuice.
Yarael: Master... I see jah be here to make sure I be doin' it right. Don' worry, be happy. I be goin' ethereal on his ass!
Jawajuice: Eh? What are you talking about?
Yarael ignites his lightsabre and runs at Qui-Gon Jinn.
Qui-Gon: JJ! Did you, like, set me up? After all we've been through?
Jawajuice: Of course not!
Qui-Gon ignites his own sabre and springs into mortal combat (or immortal combat, rather) with Yarael. Yarael quickly gains the upper hand, however, just as all seems lost...
Jar Jar Binks: Hi-yah!
The Gungan frog-thing bursts through the door and starts hurling boomas at Yarael. Very few of them actually reach their intended target, instead doing untold damage to Jawajuice's apartment. The jawa winces, checks his insurance policy, then relaxes noticably.
Yarael: Ooh, I be rememberen jah, shaman! Jah be wanten' a rematch now?
Jar Jar Binks: Er... maybe some other time. Come on! Wesa mussen getten out of here!
Jawajuice: I hear you there, freaky frog-thing!
Qui-Gon: Right behind you!
Jar Jar Binks: Here! Catch, yousa tricksy voodoo Jedi!
He lobs a glass bottle at Yarael, then runs out, followed by Jawajuice and Qui-Gon.
Jawajuice: Uh... Jar Jar, just what was that glass bottle?
Jar Jar Binks: Issen a genie bottle - itsa will catchen Yarael inside itsa! Wait -
He checks his bag, then pulls out another bottle.
Jar Jar Binks: Wait... *thissen* issen der genie bottle... so whatsa wassen der -
The apartment violently explodes behind them. Jawajuice checks his insurance policy once again, then breathes a sigh of relief.
Jawajuice: So, how'd you know we were in trouble?
Jar Jar Binks: Yousa wassen in trouble? Mesa wassen noah knowen thassen.
Qui-Gon: Then why did you, like, burst in and start attacking poofy?
Jar Jar Binks: Mesa noah liken himsa berry much.
Jawajuice: Never mind. The important thing is that we find out what happened to Yarael on Serenno. And, through some implausible plot hole, I somehow know that my crazy uncle E'etooi is involved somehow...

Friday, September 02, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Part 3

Inside Rooku McDooku's warehouse on Serenno, Yarael Poof is presented to the Branch Manager by General Grievous, looking left and right for an opportunity to steal or destroy the secret recipies for McDooku's dark-side-tainted fatty meals...

General Grievous: Here you *ah-k'oahch**hack* are, sir. This spirit Jedi was trying to get in and inspect the warehouse for giant bugs.
The Branch Manager, cloaked in shadow, waves his hand and mutters. Yarael strains to hear, but can't make it out.
General Grievous: But sir - *cough**aaah-KOOFHA* Yes, sir.
General Grievous turns and leaves the room, already shouting at his pit droids. The Branch Manager steps forward out of the shadows, showing himself to be...

Jawajuice's crazy uncle E'etooi!

Unfortunately, all Jawas look the same to Yarael.
Yarael: Jawajuice? What jah be doin' here, mon?
E'etooi (momentarily taken aback, but quickly recovers): Uh... yes, it is I, Jawajuice! I've been working for Rooku McDooku all along, to produce cheap fatty fast food and turn billions of teenagers to the Dark Side of cuisine!
Yarael: But... why?
E'etooi: Well, isn't it obvious? If I can overthrow McDooku, *I'll* be the one in control of this whole enterprise! Then, I'll have control of all the light-siders who worship at the altar of Uncle Jinn & JJ, *and* all the dark-siders who devour McDooku's fatty food! But once I *really* control Uncle Jinn & JJ's, I'll shut the place down and use the revenue for McDooku's!
Yarael: Sorry, mon, I did'na catch de last bit.
E'etooi: Eh? Oh, never mind. So, now that you know what's going on, I want you to... uh... oh, I know: ASSASSINATE QUI-GON JINN!
Yarael: But, Qui-Gon's jah friend, mon! And I only be helpin' jah so I can get *his* help!
E'etooi: Oh. Well... ah... never mind, then. Perhaps you'd like to... uh... *sample* some of our dishes?
Yarael: But dem fast food dishes be of de Dark Side o' cuisine!
E'etooi: Perhaps you didn't hear me correctly, Yarael. Would you like to sample some of our dishes?
Yarael (eyes glaze over): Yah... I be liken to sample some of jah dishes...
E'etooi: Excellent... come this way...

Yarael, now under the influence of Jawajuice's nefarious (and crazy) uncle E'etooi, follows him into the shadows, to taste fatty, greasy fast food that has only been seen before in the nightmares of master chefs...

Thursday, September 01, 2005

At Peace... Almost - Part 2

Hours later, Yarael Poof floats through the wall of a spaceliner and hovers above the ground of Serenno.

Yarael: Dat be de last time I take Coruscant Spaceways, mon. Now, off to find Rooku McDooku's warehouse.
Yarael wafts gently downwards and lands, somewhat uncertainly, on the packed soil. He looks around.
Yarael: So... where be de warehouse, anyway?
He hears a voice from over a nearby hill.
General Grievous: Get those turrets *cough**ka-ough**hack* working, you lazy *koah-koah-koah* slime! Count Dooku wants this place to be inpenetrable to stop Uncle Jinn & JJ from getting in!
Yarael: Jackpot, mon.
He floats over the hill. General Grievous is standing amongst a gaggle of pit droids, who are hammering laser turrets together.
General Greivous: Hey! Who are y- *k'oah**k'oah**a-kooahk**cough**hack**ka-oah**k'ack**aaah-kooach*!
Yarael looks at his watch, or at least, he looks at the place his watch would be if it hadn't fallen through his spectral wrist.
Yarael: Jah be gonna do dis all day, mon?
General Grievous: *Ah-koah**hack* *Ahem* Where was I? You! What do you think you're doing here?
Yarael: Ah... well, mon, I was gonna... ah... inspect jah warehouse. For... bugs. Yah.
General Grievous: *Cough* Bugs?
Yarael: Ah... yah, mon. Really big ones.
He holds his arms out in front of him, to show just how big.
General Grievous: So, you're an inspector? Well, I'll show you what we do to inspectors!
General Grievous ignites all four of his lightsabres. In response, Yarael takes out his sabre from his robe - and it falls through his hand to the ground.
Yarael: Ah.
General Grievous charges, blades whirling. Yarael backs away and floats into the air, periodically releasing Force blasts towards the ground. General Grievous, unfazed, hurls three of his four lightsabres at Yarael.
Yarael: Argh!
The lightsabre blades pass through him without leaving a scratch. Yarael decides on a cunning ploy to break the stalemate, and falls to the ground.
General Grievous, unaware of his failure to injure Yarael, approaches.
General Grievous: So, *ah-k'oah**hack* what should I do with you now?
Yarael: Well, mon, jah could... ah... take me to your leader?
General Grievous: Your reverse psychology won't work on me. You only said that so I would let you go! But now, I'll do just that. Droids! Take him inside!
Yarael: Heh heh... the old "reversed-reverse-psychology" trick. Gets jah every time...

General Grievous's pit droids drag Yarael into the warehouse, to bring him face to face with the sinister branch manager of the Serenno warehouse...