Sunday, October 30, 2005

Qui-Gon : In A Pickle

He was nervous. Though he had replayed the conversation over in his mind hundreds of times for the past few days, he couldn't shake the foreboding feeling in his gut that something was bound to go wrong.
Qui-Gon Jinn clenched his ethereal teeth and drew in a deep airless breath. He braced himself and met the crowd.
Before him were all familiar faces, but all wore looks tainted with anger. The Survivors that had been voted off before had congregated to hear Master Yoda's speech. It was obvious that it had gone over with less than success.
The most unnerving thing was the mangy reeking Bantha that had it's bottom pointed towards the crowd.
He inaudibly chanted
"Do not say pickles." His lips moved, but there was no sound. He knew that he had a brilliant speech, something worthwhile for all, as long as he didn't botch it up.
"What was that, Jinn? Hear you we cannot," Master Yoda said, facing the ghost, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Nothin', man."
The small living Master put a hand on his hip, the other clenching his gimer stick. "Important what ever you are trying to say is, and always has it been, my Former Padawan." His smile was warm regarding the spectre.
"Oh, wow, I was just psyching myself up for the speech," Qui-Gon said.
"Mumbling what you were? Your lips moving I saw."
The apparition froze. He knew what this was about. Master Yoda knew what he was trying not to to. A wave of hurt washed over him as he realised the living master's deception.
"I know what you're trying to do," Qui-Gon accused, sticking a waving finger out in front of Yoda, "You're trying to get me to botch this up and, like, say pickles..."
With a sudden blast, the fully loaded Bantha went off. "Wuaaaarh!" Phlpppt!
People were blown backwards, rolling hard on the sands. The shock-wave threw JJ over the heads of several and far out into the open desert. Those in the crowd held their noses or clenched their shirts over their mouths to try and dampen the intense nauseating reek that blanketed the area.
Fluke stood, howling, "There's a bean in my eye! Gahh!"
Qui-Gon's head dropped to his chest and he heaved a breathless sigh.. "Oh Shazbot."
Unable to hold back any longer Master Yoda burst into laughter. "Priceless this is! Too hard you try, Jinn!" He laughed out loud again. "And stop from saying pickles, you did not."
Bob the Bantha broke wind again, filling the air with more thick chaffy stench.
Qui-Gon ignored the reek of Bantha beans and dashed to JJ's side. "JJ, man, are you all right?"
The Jawa was in the process of losing his catered lunch. He waved the ghost away.
"Oh, wow, man. He made you ralph, man." He laid a gentle hand to the ill Jawa's back.
After JJ finished, he pushed at the spectral form. "You might want to get lost. Fluke may be wearing a jaunty eye-patch from now on, so it might be best if you hide."
The ghost's face was chiseled with hurt. "Oh, wow," he said, in a depressed tone, "Like, take care of Fluke, man, and like, don't tell anyone I'm hiding in the cave, okay?"
JJ nodded, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. "Just make like the wind..."
"Fart?"
"No," JJ said, "Just go. And quick, I think Grievous has out all four lightsabres."
Qui-Gon darted away, head down, not looking back.

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