Friday, August 26, 2005

And the winner is...

J.J.: …and the final bike to come in and it’s…..Typhodookuhan! A great, great job by everybody. Well done. And it’s nice to see everyone crossed the finish line without any major injuries. –That’ll save the health care costs of the show.

And the winner of the challenge….is Yoda. Strong with the swoop, you are. Yoda wins immunity from today’s vote. I’ll let you guys get dusted off and I’ll see everyone at tribal council tonight.

Qui-Gon : Spiritual Medium

When I started this race, clinging fast to my specialised swoop, I thought of nothing but winning. I let the peaceful blanket of the ether fade and relied on my connection with the Living Force, making all around me more dynamic. This was to be my finest hour since the day I died. I set my jaw and clenched my teeth, frowning, as I flew by my team-mates.
I ripped through the Sarlacc Breeding grounds, loose sand passing through me. My poncho fluttered behind me, the winds tossing it like it were a kite. The Sarlacc squealed and whipped long flesh tentacles at me, but I nudged my swoop with the Living Force, evading the attacks.
The Steaming Pits of Death reminded me of a trip to the Eternal Bog of Stench when I was a Padawan. I was through that stretch of track so quickly, though, that all it became was a nauseating blur.
At the Ronto Plateau, I passed a few riders, glancing at them as I went by. Determination sculpted their faces with hard lines. The more I looked, I knew, these faces were so dead set on winning, they were frowning. I saw no smiles.
Victory was so important that the simple joys of each moment were lost.
Your focus determines your reality. Never should this focus deny the beauty of any moment.
I slowed my swoop, noticing Master Dooku near-by. He flicked at switches on the controls. I heard faint music emanating from his way. He was searching the radio.
I clicked the centre switch on my own swoop, the Commlink, and began to sing.

Can anybody find me some Jedi to love?
Midichlorians muddle my mind a little
Can't seem to get a Council seat
Take a look at my Master and sigh
Jedi, what are you doing to me
I have spent all my years following you
But I just can'’t get what I need,
Some Jedi, some Jedi
Can anybody find me some Jedi to love?
I've worked hard every day of my life
All my skills I've had to hone
At the end of the day I sit and meditate all on my own -
I get down on my knees
And I start to pray
Let the fears run away from my mind
Force - some Jedi - some Jedi
Can anybody find me - some Jedi to love?
(He works hard)
Everyday - I try and I try and I try -
But Yoda laughs, that familiar sound
He says 'Padawan is lazy'
He says many years more I must train
Got no common sense
And in the Council I must believe
Yeah - yeah yeah yeah
Oh Force
Some Jedi - some Jedi
Can anybody find me some Jedi to love?
Got the Force, around me is Living
As a Master, I can't be beat
I'm ok, I'm alright
Ain'’t gonna face no defeat
I just gotta avoid the Sith Lord hell
Someday I'm gonna achieve, Force!
Find me some Jedi to love
Can anybody find me some Jedi to love?

The words returned to me, flowing as naturally as the first time Dooku and I sang it together.
I slowed my swoop, and when I looked back, Master Dooku was nowhere to be seen. I coasted through the last leg of the lap, enjoying the sights and sounds. I avoided the blasts from the Tuskens with ease. I've found when I am at peace, almost nothing can surprise me.
Since I didn't see anyone else pass me, I guessed I was in last place. I drifted to a stop right over the finish line, smiling and content with the world.
"That was really far out, J.J.," I said, allowing that warm ethereal glow start to wash over my senses again. "Like, seriously, thanks for the trip, man."
J.J. took a moment to look up from his view screen to smile back up at me. "Glad you liked it, Qui."
The three final stragglers came in, leaving me in 6th place.
Not first. Not last. I'm glad to have found a happy medium.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

Yoda: Just Hanging Around I Am

Gathered at the start line, all of our swoop bikes were. A mechanic there was by each of our swoop bikes. A little eccentric, my mechanic seemed:

Bossy, he was too.

"You're not 007," he said.

"No. Yoda, my name is. A Jedi Master and member of the Jedi Counc..."

"Yes, yes, let's get on with it. Now, I've made a number of special modifications to your vehicle, but I don't want you to use any of them. Understand? Good."

"For what, this big red button is?"

"Since you won't be using it, there's really no need for you to know, is there? Oh, here, you should take this pen."

"Need to write something will I?"

"Of course not! That pen isn't for writing. In fact, it's not an ordinary pen."

"For what it is?"

"Never mind. Just don't point it at any Tusken Raiders, if you can at all avoid it. All right, up you go, I haven't got all day. You shouldn't be standing here jibbering on so, anyway. You have a race to run. Get on with it. And please try to take care of this equipment."

"For what this box is?"

"Don't touch that! That's my lunch!"

Finally, on my bike I got. And the race we started. In the middle of the pack I was. Maybe as good at this as Young Skywalker and Captain Solo I was not, but going to be behind Jar Jar or Dooku, I was not!

First, the Sarlaac Breeding Grounds. Staring up at me from their pits, Sarlaacs were. A loogy at one I hawked.

Next, the Steaming Pits of Death. Whoa, stink it did! Like old socks it smelled. Down I looked. Sure enough, piled in the pits millions and millions of old socks were. Then, to me it occured, where all those socks go that in the dryer get lost, this is! Passed out from the smell, anyone else would have. But with Kenobi I live. Nothing this was.

Then, Ronto Plateau. There, to slow down our bikes we had to. Many Rontos migrating there were. Fortunately, ticklish Rontos are. So, when get in my way or threaten me, one would, just reach up I would, and "Coochie, choochie, coo!"

Finally, Assassin's Arch. Last obstacle before the final stretch through Beggar's Canyon, it was. But as close to it I got, shooting at me Tuskens started! To throw something at them I wanted. But nothing on me I had. In my pocket I reached. My pen I felt. Out I took it and about to throw it, I was. Accidentally, I clicked it. Suddenly, shooting the Tuskens stopped! Together they all stood up, and singing show tunes they started!

Stand show tunes I can not. Even worse, apparently tone-deaf Tuskens are. Very off-key they were. As past the last of them I whizzed, finishing Oklahoma! they were. Butchered it, they had. No wonder it is that supposed to point that pen at Tuskens you are not.

At last, Beggar's Canyon. Still in the middle of the pack, I was. Profusely I was sweating. Making the seat slippery it was. To balance myself I tried, but forward I slipped. On to the big red button I fell. Uh oh.

Whoosh! Like a rocket, my bike took off! Hanging on to the handle bars for dear life I was! Up in the air behind me, my legs were. Off of me, my clothes flew. Down to my underwear I was. Everyone ahead of me, I passed. A blur, they were.

Coming up on the finish line, I was. But slow down the bike I could not! Working, the brakes were not! Past the finish line I flew. Won, had I? Way behind me the finish line was now. To turn the bike around I tried, but instead, up it went. Very tiny, the people on the ground were. Getting to me, the altitude was. Light-headed I was feeling. The last thing I remember that was. The next thing I know, hanging from a rocky cliff by a parachute, I was. Even know the bike had a parachute, I did not.

Uh, get me down, can someone?

Han: Swoop Han B

OH what a day. I was still feeling woozy from my Huttslime o.d., and would have liked nothing more than to spend the day in the sack, recovering. So, what did we do? We had a swoop race.

Now, I was the king of swoop racing. I made a name for myself racing dangerous repulsorlift swoops professionally and on the independent circuit when I was a teenager. They even made an action figure of me!

These guys had no idea what they were about to go up against.

They gave us Mobquet swoops to race. Man, this model was old when I was young, but it's probably the latest thing on Tatooine right now. Lucky for me, I was familiar with it.

Mobquet swoops use TaggeCo chips, of course (Mobquet is part of TaggeCo). And TaggeCo is all about credits. They underclock their chips so they can charge more for regular-clocked ones. A few minutes to take the limiters off the control computer, and I'll have a more responsive swoop. Man, if only I had my tools with me! I could do so much more. That should have been my luxury item.

I mean, I'd probably win anyway, but it doesn't hurt to take extra steps. After all, I heard Anakin was a bit of a racer himself, when he was younger. He'd probably be my biggest competition.

Anyway. I got the limiters off, and if the world would just stop spinning, I'd be set.

Before the race started, Fluke came over to wish me luck.

Fluke: Hey Ham, I just wanna say good luck on the race today.
Han: Thanks, but I don't need luck, for I have great skill.
Fluke: Oh...
Han: Good luck to you though.
All lined up, J.J. started the countdown. Right before go, I shouted:
Han: Do you want to live forever? Hawkmen... DIIIIIIVVE!
Qui-Gon: ...Hawkmen?
Aayla: Is Han STILL that far out there?
We started the race, and I was the first off the block, thanks to the enhanced computer. Man, I missed that feeling! Being in the lead, the wind whipping your hair back, the whole pack of racers behind you. Fantastic.

That lasted for about 3 seconds.

Anakin pulled up next to me. He was zipping around obstacles with a precision I couldn't believe, missing rocks with micrometers to spare. That's impossible, even for a computer. He just grinned over his shoulder as he flew on by me.

Well, there's no points for second place, so I started gunning it. I'd pass him if it killed me.

We passed the Sarlacc pits (Sarlaccs. Why does it always have to be Sarlaccs? I HATE Sarlaccs) unmolested. And the Steaming Pits of Death flew by without incident. Smelled a bit like Chewie's cooking. A wave of nostalgia and nausea hit me.

Anyway, with Anakin cutting the wind in front of me, I was able to keep up but I couldn't pass. We stayed locked in this position until about the Ronto Plateau. My swoop started slowing down. It wasn't pulling as tight around obstacles as it should have, and Anakin was getting farther and farther ahead. I was compensating as best I could, but after we passed Assassin's Arch, it really started to slow.

Around then I had a hallucination. It looked like Yoda zoomed past me and Anakin. Yoda. Now, I know that wasn't really happening.

Zip! Zip zip! The rest of the pack started passing me. This was getting embarrassing.

Just when I thought it would be faster to get off and walk, it died completely and I came to a stop with a jerk. I looked at the jerk and he looked at me and then vanished. Another hallucination.

I could hear the ping ping sound as the computer started cooling. I guess the limiters were on there for a reason. Hmm. Well, win some, lose some, and I had definitely lost.

And then there was Dooku trotting up.
Dooku: Run into a spot of trouble did you?
Han: (sarcastically) No, I just thought I'd stop and give you a lift.
Dooku: (immune to sarcasm) Splendid!
Dooku hopped up and sat behind me on the swoop. When he did, there was an even louder PING! followed by the hissing sound of escaping gas.
Han: What was that?
Dooku: Tuskens. It might be a good idea to get out of here.
I could here whooping, and when I looked back I spotted them: the Tusken Raiders of Assassin's Arch. Reloading.
Han: Yeah, I think your right.
The computer had, I hoped, cooled enough to get us moving, but when I engaged the engine...nothing.

whizz! A Tusken bullet flew over our heads.
Dooku: At your convenience, of course.
Han: Har har.
The diagnostics were saying that the forward thruster was completely offline (possibly, I thought, taken out by that first shot). Great.

Well, I did the only thing I could do. I put it in reverse, turned us around, and got back on course.
Dooku: (shouting over the wind) I hadn't realized swoop bikes could go in reverse.
Han: It's an old racer's trick: bypass the forward thruster and run the energy controllers backwards. You know, see who can go around the course the fastest, the wrong way.
Dooku: Fascinating.
Suddenly, BUMP! we hit something.
Typho: OOF!
Dooku: Looks like we picked up another passenger.
This was turning into a regular shuttle service.
Han: Oy, I pulled a Dengar. Sorry, Typho, didn't see you there.
Typho: ERG!
And that's how we crossed the finish line, backwards. Typho, then Dooku, and me in last place.

Dead last. Sigh.

Typho: Marathon or Sprint?

Assassin’s Arch is where they nailed me.
HEY! Who's shooting??
Originally uploaded by Captain Typho.

Call it a calculated risk.

This was my plan -- stay within striking distance, then gun it down the stretch. I figured a swoop race like this is a marathon, not a sprint.

The Steaming Pits of Death were... I can't speak about it.

I'll probably need therapy to get over the horror.

[I wonder if healer Barriss Offee does counseling?]

The Ronto Plateau was (almost) fun. I got an unintentional assist from Jar Jar when he started chucking his bombs. I came out of there in about 3rd place.

Assassin's Arch is where my plan got shot to hell -- literally. I hit that area with Aayla and Qui-Gon right behind me and I was getting ready to pass the leaders when the shooting started.

#$@&ing Tuskens!

Shots pinged off my swoop, narrowly missing me. They must've hit something important, though, 'cause the bike started slowing down dramatically.

Jar Jar passed me.

Fluke, too.

Others, one after another.

The bike finally died as I caught up with Dooku.

Okay, I've lost the swoop race, but no way am I gonna let a hundred-year-old man cross the finish line before me!

The footrace was on...

Starbucker: Super-swooper stupor

Fluke puts on his racing goggles...

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Dang! I can't see nothin'

FLUKE: (feeling around, talking to self) now, where's that swoop? There it is!...hey, this is soft and cushy.


FLUKE: OOw! Uh, sorry! Can you point me in the direction of my swoop? Thx.

Fluke mounts his swoop and begins feeling around for the controls...

FLUKE: JJ! This is one awkward swoop! What's with these controls?

JJ: They're meant for you to be facing them, not sitting on them. *rolls flashlight eyes*

FLUKE: *ahem* well...that's not what I'm used to...

The young Founder of the New Jedi Order wannabe repositions himself, and goes to start up his swoop..... Sssssswwwwwooooop-swoop-woop-woop-woop *pfsuuuuuh*......ssssssswwwwwoooooop-swoop-swoop-woop-woop-woop *pfshuuuuh*

FLUKE: Hey, JJ! What's up with this hunk of Ronto toe?

JJ: hmm... well, if you engage the power coupling before you attempt to start it, then things may go smoother...

FLUKE: oh... *ahem* I mean, ...uh... why the outdated model? Couldn't you get something a tad more advanced. Pfft!

The bike starts up ... and the race begins! The young FotNJOw's bike revs up very loudly as the others take off.

FLUKE: (to self) WoW! this must have an awesome windshield! I can't feel any turbulence or anything... not even a slight breeze!

JJ: (yelling over Fluke's high revving engine) FLUKE! THE RACE STARTED!



The young FotNJOw raises his goggles and sees that the pack is well into the Dune Sea as he sits at the starting line


and Fluke takes off like a bottle rocket! Almost falling back off the swoop...

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Regaining composure and holding on for dear life.

He begins gaining on the pack... finds little trouble maneuvering through the Sarlacc breeding ground and the first gate... and bolts through the Steaming Pits of Death, without even taking the time to look around. His mind is focused, his senses are alert only to the race, his spidey underoos are riding up, and yet his concentration is not broken...

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The eyes of determination...

He begins overtaking a few, gaining on the main pack as he dodges flying obstacles at Assassin's Arch and weaves and turns through Beggar's Canyon at break-neck speed...

He clears the final gate, and sheds his helmet...

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The wind whips him full force

- hunkering down as hard as possible - throwing his all into the throttle - his teeth, his fingers, his toes and his butt: All clenched as he's never clenched them before...

...and what's this! The finish line is in sight! Only a couple more to pass! And he's continuing to gain!

...and at the finish line, it's....?

Dooku: And it was going so well...

I'm very good on a swoop, you know.

I suppose it was all that time spent in 'Hoth's Angels' (see here), back in the day...


As soon as I got onto my swoop, I could feel the memories rushing back... but there was no time for that. I had a race to win.

The start went well - I stayed with the pack, gaining a little with the straights, losing a little with the corners.

Then a thought occured to me.

Maybe it was the heat, maybe the lack of water, or maybe the smell of brownies that surrounded Qui's bike - but I decided to check if my swoop had a stereo.

It did.

With the whole swoop-race thing already triggering waves of nostalgia, I couldn't leave the stereo alone - I just HAD to see what it could play.
So, I leaned over, and begun punching buttons.


Various tunes began to sing out at me - nothing too fancy, nothing I recognised - meanwhile, the other racers began to pull away from me.

Head still bent over the stereo, I flick down to the last track.

"Some Jedi to Love"

A tear came to my eye. Touched, I looked up, to check whether Qui was still there, perhaps sharing the moment with me.

No-one in sight.

Just one very large rock.

Approaching very fast.

Split-seconds later, I lept from my swoop, letting it speed into the rock - shattering into a dozen expensive-looking parts.

I sighed. I was in last place, a few hundred meters from the finish, with a busted swoop. And no more stereo.

And there I would have been stuck, if something amazing hadn't happened.

But you'll just have to wait to find out what that was.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Jar Jar Binks: Here Wesa Goin!

Let's see... mesa gotten mesa sling unt boomas (issen about time theysa gonna bein of some usen), mesa issen noah a kaadu anymore (issen a long story) unt mesa issen ready for der... er... whatsa wassen thissen challenge again!

A race? Mesa gonna riden thassen ting! Aaargh!

Unt mesa issen... off! Into der dune sea, around der dunes - CRASH BANG OW - okay, *through* thassen dune.

Now, on to... whatsa wassen thissen again? *checks map* Sarlacc Breeding Grounds. Oh, mesa thought yousa sayen - wait... Sarlacc Breeding Grounds? EEEAAARRGH!
Okay, around der first sarlacc... den left... MESA OTHER LEFT! ARGH! Jump! Jump! Jump!
*Jar Jar's bike sails through the air over the sarlacc*

Steaming Pits of Death... well, thassen can noah be so bad...
*two seconds later...* EEEAAAYAAARGHH!!!!!!
Ow... issen... indescribably painful... issen INDESCRIBABLE, OKEYDAY? Thassen meanen mesa noah goin to describen itsa, yousa getten mesa message?

Okay, whatsa issen next?
Nice ronto... nice ronto... oh, forget it. *Jar Jar drives straight through the herd, hurling boomas left and right - it's doubtful whether he actually hits anything, but the rontos stay back*

Assassin's Arch? After der Steaming Pits of Death...
BANG! POW! POP! *Tusken-Raider-ish honking noises* Yousa gonna payen for thissen...
*he gets back to randomly throwing boomas, one of which strikes Aayla Secura as she attempts to pass him on her swoop bike*

And der home stretch (literally): Beggar's Canyon, der lair of der former Mabitt Tribe. Now, did Jawajuice sayen anyting about der canyon? Endargered species...
*Jar Jar starts counting on his fingers, oblivious to the local wildlife he is squashing with his bike*
Narrow in places...
*he zooms through the narrowest part of the canyon in a lucky break, not noticing at all*
Lots of rocks...
*he looks up and sees the Tribal Council - Yoda, Anakin and Fluke already waiting there - and with a huge rock directly in front*
*Jar Jar's bike crashes into the rock and violently explodes, flinging him over to land smack in the middle of the Tribal Council*.

Talken about yousa dramatic finishen...

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Han: New Tribe Name

So, what is the new name of our combined tribe going to be?

Suggested names so far are:
  • SuperPimps
  • Ayafa
  • Kiizci
  • Mabteeni
  • Ronto Warriors
  • Oobitts
  • The Artists Formerly Known as Something Else
  • The Combined Tribe
  • The Tribe
  • Combo-Tribe
  • Extra Value Tribe
Any other suggestions? Votes?

Challenge #6 :Swoop Bike Race

Welcome Survivors. I see you have decided to settle at the old Mabbitt cave and you’re still working on a name for the new tribe. Very well. Let me know what you all have settled on in a few days and I'll change the side graphics.

Today’s challenge is an exciting one. It’s a race. We were going to have a pod race for everyone but as it turns out, the Hutts made pod racing illegal for anyone else to use them on this planet so today’s challenge is a swoop bike race.

I’m sure you’re all familiar with the lanky bikes. Each one is the same special model, built especially for this game, thanks to Mobquet Swoops and Speeders™ ©. So the race will come down to that person’s skill and a little luck. The only modifications we made was to this one here. We made this swoop bike able to respond to the delicate nuances of the living force so that Qui-Gon could actually ride it. It should respond just like the others.

The race itself is very long, so you only need to make one revolution around to win.

You will start here, where we have tribal council and speed off across the Dune Sea towards the Sarlacc Breading Grounds. There are dozens of little sarlacc pits throughout the area, so you will have to be careful not to drop in one of them.

Just beyond the breading grounds is the first of six marker flags you must go through. If you fail to go through any of the marker flags and thus try to make a short cut for yourself, you will be eliminated from the race.

After the first marker flag, you will quickly turn south until you find the second marker flag. Right after that you must travel through the Steaming Pits of Death. Now…no one knows exactly what the Steaming Pits of Death are. No one’s actually come back from them alive…but I’m sure you guys will be fine.

Moving on….Next it’s up to the Ronto Plateau where right now there are hundreds of Rontos in heavy migration. You may have to weave and dodge your way through and around them to get to the third marker flag. Try not to get stepped on.

After that, it’s a quick turn east and another long stretch of desert until you reach Assassin’s Arch. Assassin’s Arch itself is the fourth marker flag, so you must race through the natural rocky arch itself. Now, unfortunately Tusken Raiders love to camp out on top of the arch and take pot shots at passers by. You may have to take special care not to get shot.

Beyond the arch, you will then race through Beggar’s Canyon. (yes, the map says Begger’s Canyon…my crazy uncle E’etooi made the map years ago. He’s quite insane as well as an awful speller.) Anyway, the canyon can be quite narrow in places and have many sharp turns, so be very careful….not to endanger the natural wildlife, okay? (Not to mention your camp…) Marker flag number five is in the canyon.

Finally the last marker flag if back here at the start. First person who makes it across wins immunity.

Any questions?

Then let’s get started.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Han: Headache

Ow. Ow. Ouch. Ow. Oh. Ow.

Hurts .. to ... think.

What happened?

*sifts through remainders of memory*

There was a challenge. Hutt licking? Oh, no.

Hutts, as everyone surely knows, produce slime that causes hallucinations. Ooohhh my head. How much did I lick? I can't remember.

Hey, wait! Weren't we going to go to Watto's Dune Sea Oasis Casino and Resort? Complimentary drinks, our own room, 50 credits for gambling, an all-you-can-eat buffet, a pool....

Where to begin? I haven't had any real drinks since I came back here (Old Mos Eisley is not a REAL drink). 50 credits to gamble with (more than I need...). All the food I want (so hungry). And a pool! I've been living in a fracking DESERT for weeks! I could barely imagine being immersed in that much water...

Ah, the good life. For 24 hours, anyway. What did I do?

The only thing I can laying on the floor in my room...and looking at my hands. I mean REALLY looking at them. Oh, the colors....the colors...


The Merge!

Welcome survivors. I trust everyone enjoyed their stay at the resort. Good. Today is a special day. Drop your buffs.

No! Fluke…your buffs, not….
Wait! Anakin…not your….no. My eyes!
Wait. All of you. Just drop your buffs. Please. …oh, I’m gonna need that pink stuff soon.
Now the reason I’m asking you to drop your buffs is because….No! Wait! Han! …not again.

Several minutes and some heavy clarification later….

Alright. I want each team to get a good look at the other team…because from this day forward they will also be your team mates. You will no longer need your old colored buffs anymore. From now on, as one tribe, your buff color is Red. All of you have made it this far. Now the game goes into high gear. Challenges will no longer determine which team goes to tribal council. Instead, the winner of challenges hence forth will win immunity from the council vote. This means every Friday there will be a vote but the winner of that weeks challenge can not be voted off.

Also from here on out in the game, those voted off will now start to consist of our jury. This jury will be the people who will cast the final vote, when it comes down to the last two people, and who will vote for the winner of the game. More of that when we get to it.

I imagine there will be a bit more competition now. We have a strong core group of players and it may take more than doing well in the challenges to make it to the final two. We may even see some secret alliances starting to pop up…if they haven’t already.

There are two things you must do right away as your new tribe. First, you must all decide on a new name for the tribe, and second, determine where this tribe is going to live for the remainder of the game. Will it be out in the Dune Sea inside a hollowed out sandworm carcass? Or in a cave just down wind of the Bantha Dumping Grounds?

It’s your choice. But you should make them quick.

Tomorrow is a new challenge.

I’ll see everyone tomorrow.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

Tribal Council: Week Five (Mabbitt)

J.J.: Welcome back to tribal council, team Mabbitt. I trust you all had a good time at the resort and...for four of you well rested to continue on with the game. Unfortunately, your team came in second for the Hutt-lick and one of you must be voted off. So without further ado, let the voting begin.

The five Mabbitt team members look at each other slyly then one by one go over to write down a name and vote. J.J. then takes the container and comes back to the fire.

J.J.: I’ll now read the votes.

First vote………………Fluke


…………………Jar Jar



Interesting. It appears we have an unusual alliance to create a tie for tribal council. Very well, as stated in the rules as I’m sure you’re all aware of, if there is ever a tie, the loser will be determined randomly from the tied selections. In this case, that’s all five of you. Is that correct?

All of Mabbitt nod their heads.

Very well. I’ll just replace these names back in the container and draw out one of them. Then that person will be asked to leave. You all have a one in five chance. Here we go.



The seventh person voted off Survivor: Tatooine…………..


Princess Leia….the tribe has spoken.

Leia: But….look at me….I’m……that is…..I’m still…..

J.J.: Oh that. Eh…the effects of the idol should wear off in another week. Don’t worry, you should be back to your fork skickin’ self in no time.

Eh….you can put down that fork now…..

Why is it everyone that gets voted off wants to kill me. I’m just the messenger?