Yoda: Spiders I Hate!
Difficult to do a challenge with a love-sick bantha following you around all the time, it can be. Think I'm his mother or something Bob must, because stop following me he will not! Blind he is, so know how he can tell where I am, I do not. Tell you I can, crowded in the cave it has become.
Asked the show's producers to take Bob away, I have. But evil they are. They think that funny it is. So take him away they will not! Stupid producers!
Anyway, another stupid challenge they gave us. Build a wind-surfer and surf across the sand, we were supposed to. Next, what is? Cross-country skiing through Mos Eisley?
Into the sandcrawler to look for parts I went. Thankfully, outside Bob stayed. Many parts I rummaged through. All useless parts, they were - more clown wigs, a bunch of those giant foam "#1 we are" fingers, tons of those AOL cds that in the mail you get, about a hundred Betamax VCRs, boxes and boxes of Tiger Beat magazines, useless things.
So up a few levels to the crew area I went. To stop me a Jawa guard tried. A blaster rifle he pointed at me.
"This is a restricted area. You can't come in here. Move away. NOW!"
My hand I waved at him. "A loser you are."
"I'm a loser."
"Beat yourself over the head repeatedly with that rifle, you will."
"I think I'll beat myself repeatedly over the head with this rifle."
Necessary to add the rifle-beating it was not. But because pride in my job I take, the extra mile I always try to go.
Anyway, into a conference room I went. An important meeting they seemed to be having. Care I did not.
"Using that large conference table are you?"
"As a matter of fact, yes we..."
"Think so I did not." With the Force, I whipped it away from under them.
"Hey!"
My board I had. But a sail I still needed. Back down into the parts section of the sandcrawler, I went. Just then, into a bunch of cobwebs I ran!
Running in, Solo came. "What's wrong? Who's screaming?"
"Out of these cobwebs get me! And screaming I was not!"
"You were screaming like a little girl. Here, I'll get you out, you big baby."
"Hurry! Before the sp...., before the sp..., the sp...."
"The spiders?"
"Say the 'S-word', do not!" As know, many of you may, like sp... I do not.
"Look, Short Stuff, there aren't even any spiders left in these webs. They must all be dead."
"Sure that dead they all are, are you?"
"Listen, Your Greenness, I didn't sign on here to baby-sit some ancient monkey while he works out his little phobias. I've got a challenge to do."
Such a caring man he is.
While getting out of this blanket of cobwebs I was, it occured to me that make the perfect sail, these cobwebs would. All those cobwebs I took, and like a sheet I spread them out.
Ready I was now. Time to take off it was, because time for the race it was. But taking off I was not. Perhaps not enough wind there was. Have to manufacture my own wind, I would. Be a problem that would not.
"Here, Bob."
Bob the bantha I stood on the board, and towards the sails I pointed his bottom.
"Pickle!" I yelled.
"Mwawwwrr!" *Phlibbbtttt*
Like a rocket we took off! And everytime pause or touch down we would -
"Pickle!"
"Mwarrr!"
Making great progess we were. A chance at winning we had. Then, a most hideous thing I saw. Walking along the web, a sp......, a sp......, a sp....., a little crawly thing with eight legs was! That noise that Solo mistook for screaming, but screaming it most definately it was not, I made. Off of the sand-surfer I tried to jump. But scare Bob, the noise I made did. The whole sand-surfer to tip over, this caused.
So, what happened to me that was. In a pile of bantha, cobweb, and conference table, I ended up. Know what happened to the sp..., you-know-what, I do not. See it on me you do not, do you?
Asked the show's producers to take Bob away, I have. But evil they are. They think that funny it is. So take him away they will not! Stupid producers!
Anyway, another stupid challenge they gave us. Build a wind-surfer and surf across the sand, we were supposed to. Next, what is? Cross-country skiing through Mos Eisley?
Into the sandcrawler to look for parts I went. Thankfully, outside Bob stayed. Many parts I rummaged through. All useless parts, they were - more clown wigs, a bunch of those giant foam "#1 we are" fingers, tons of those AOL cds that in the mail you get, about a hundred Betamax VCRs, boxes and boxes of Tiger Beat magazines, useless things.
So up a few levels to the crew area I went. To stop me a Jawa guard tried. A blaster rifle he pointed at me.
"This is a restricted area. You can't come in here. Move away. NOW!"
My hand I waved at him. "A loser you are."
"I'm a loser."
"Beat yourself over the head repeatedly with that rifle, you will."
"I think I'll beat myself repeatedly over the head with this rifle."
Necessary to add the rifle-beating it was not. But because pride in my job I take, the extra mile I always try to go.
Anyway, into a conference room I went. An important meeting they seemed to be having. Care I did not.
"Using that large conference table are you?"
"As a matter of fact, yes we..."
"Think so I did not." With the Force, I whipped it away from under them.
"Hey!"
My board I had. But a sail I still needed. Back down into the parts section of the sandcrawler, I went. Just then, into a bunch of cobwebs I ran!
Running in, Solo came. "What's wrong? Who's screaming?"
"Out of these cobwebs get me! And screaming I was not!"
"You were screaming like a little girl. Here, I'll get you out, you big baby."
"Hurry! Before the sp...., before the sp..., the sp...."
"The spiders?"
"Say the 'S-word', do not!" As know, many of you may, like sp... I do not.
"Look, Short Stuff, there aren't even any spiders left in these webs. They must all be dead."
"Sure that dead they all are, are you?"
"Listen, Your Greenness, I didn't sign on here to baby-sit some ancient monkey while he works out his little phobias. I've got a challenge to do."
Such a caring man he is.
While getting out of this blanket of cobwebs I was, it occured to me that make the perfect sail, these cobwebs would. All those cobwebs I took, and like a sheet I spread them out.
Ready I was now. Time to take off it was, because time for the race it was. But taking off I was not. Perhaps not enough wind there was. Have to manufacture my own wind, I would. Be a problem that would not.
"Here, Bob."
Bob the bantha I stood on the board, and towards the sails I pointed his bottom.
"Pickle!" I yelled.
"Mwawwwrr!" *Phlibbbtttt*
Like a rocket we took off! And everytime pause or touch down we would -
"Pickle!"
"Mwarrr!"
Making great progess we were. A chance at winning we had. Then, a most hideous thing I saw. Walking along the web, a sp......, a sp......, a sp....., a little crawly thing with eight legs was! That noise that Solo mistook for screaming, but screaming it most definately it was not, I made. Off of the sand-surfer I tried to jump. But scare Bob, the noise I made did. The whole sand-surfer to tip over, this caused.
So, what happened to me that was. In a pile of bantha, cobweb, and conference table, I ended up. Know what happened to the sp..., you-know-what, I do not. See it on me you do not, do you?
posted by Master Yoda at 8:58 PM
4 Comments:
"Necessary to add the rifle-beating it was not. But because pride in my job I take, the extra mile I always try to go." Aha... Is the green monkey turning to the Darkside? *cough*
Theres a spider behing you!
Hmmmm, Yoda is afraid of spiders...
takes out his notebook and starts to scribble
That may just come in handy some day...
Behind me a spider is?! Aaaaaaaah!
Very inventive. I give you A for ingenuity and stamina (It must have been difficult to be next to the…exhaust), but a questionable use of the force. Yes, we got cameras everywhere. (Which means we could clearly see that that was a scream…)
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