Plan B

Okay, this is beginning to suck big time. Rhonda, the Ithorian,…my wife is everywhere I turn and I can’t seem to get away from her. She’s starting to redecorate the whole apartment now. Something has to be done. Drastic measures must be taken.

But how do I annul our marriage? If only she found someone more suiting to her and had an affair. Someone to sweep her off her feet and ride the railway of romance. Someone just a weird as her and not just a little bit…how should I say it…dense. Hmmmmmmm….

An idea formed in my mind. I made a quick call.

“Look, I’ll pay you. … Yeah, that’s right. With real credits. Just come over in your most dashing outfit and make some moves on her. She’s just bound to fall for you. And once she does, I can claim adultery and get a divorce. … What do you mean? Of course you’ll have to sleep with her. Come on, you’ve done weirder things than that. Just come by after eight. …Okay, thanks.”

It was all set. I made sure we hung out at the house until after eight and waited for her potential suitor.

Just as she was suggesting going to be early, the doorbell rang. I raced over to the door. “Gee, I wonder who that could be?” I opened the door and…..

“Hellosa Missa J.J. I just thought…oooo Whosa is this beauty?”

No Way Out

I just don’t know what to do now. I’m married to an Ithorian and it’s all nice and legal. Maybe if I hadn’t …consummated the marriage I could have found a loop hole out of it. But no, that would be too easy.

So now I have a wife sharing my living space with me and Qui. And she’s changing everything. My room is now decorated in mauve and purple with foo-foo fuzzy pillows and a whole bunch of beauty crap in my bathroom. If I wanted to move in with Mace, I would have asked him.

And every time I turn around, there she is waiting to smother me with love or food. Believe me, after a few bites, both are no longer very appetizing.

Funny, QG doesn’t seem to mind Rhonda that much. In fact they seem to get along quite well. So I asked him one day, “Hey Qui, Doesn’t it bug you that we have to share this place with her?”

“Aw, no man. In fact it’s kinda nice having someone else to talk to. I never knew Ithorians were so in touch with the living force and all. It’s like, so cool to have someone else who can really see and hear me, man. Maybe that’s why you guys are such a perfect couple.”

I cringed at the thought.

“And besides, she owns a first pressing of A Hard Days Knight. How cool is that?”

“Eh…yeah. That’s just spiffy. Maybe I’ll go into the office and see if there’s some work that needs to be done before we go on that reunion tour of yours next month.”

“Oh yeah, the three of us will have so much fun.”
My little flashlight eyes dimmed for a second. “The….three of us? Qui…don’t tell me that…”

“Oh yeah man, I forgot to tell you. Rhonda’s coming with us. With that stereo voice of hers she a natural for a backup singer. She’s gonna be in the show man. So you guys can take your groove on the road now.”

I felt the walls close in on me. I made a mad dash to my office. Maybe some good ol hard number crunching will get my mind off the situation.

But even there, during a halo-group conference power talk with the brownie distributors she managed to barge in at the worst possible time. “Say Pookie-Doo, do you want me to sew up the holes in your little undies?”

The conference members roared with laughter. I just stood there jaws clenched on my stogie until I thought it would snap in half.

I had to get out of there...out of the house…even if for just a little while. Amazingly it was Qui who came up with a solution.

“Hey J.J., Dooku just invited me to a small poker party he’s throwing. You want to come along?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

"Is…..she coming?”

“Who Rhonda?”

“SSHHHHHHhhhhh. ……yeah.”

“Uh, no man. I think she said she had to do her nails….all seventeen of them.”

“Great! Let’s go!!!!”

I only had time to grab a fist full of credits, but that’s okay. For the night I was free.

You can watch how the game goes here. And although it’s at my arch-snack rival’s place, it’s bound to be better that what’s waiting for me back home.

My Wife the Hammerhead

Yeah, you read that right the first time. Sometime during my five day drinking binge at Watto’s Casino and Resort I somehow got hitched to an Ithorian. How this happened, I ain’t quite sure but I think we met while betting on the Hutt sumo wrestling.

Now she’s here in my home…sleeping in my bed and eating in my kitchen and showing off her new….ring?

“Holy crap!! Did I pay for that?”

“Why of course, sweetie-pea. Don’t you remember? We got it from Watto himself.” She fluttered her gangly fingers in the air.

“How much did that flying tick want for it?”

“eighty-five thousand.”

“…Credits?!?!?!?”

“But you told him your love for me was greater than that and said he would have to take an even hundred for it.”

“Woah, dude. You must have really been wasted to haggle up like that.” Qui-Gon mentioned while pouring himself a second cup of tea.

“Gee, ya think?” This was just too much for me to process on a hangover. I needed some time to think. “I…I think I’m going to go back to bed…”

“oooh…Does that mean you’re wanting a little more…Hammer-Time?”

Eeeppp!

“Eh…on second though…I think I’ll just take a shower….alone…”

I stepped out of the kitchen and slowly wattled back to my living quarters. Now what do I do? I got a wife…what was her name again? Rhonda? Rhonda the Ithorian. Good God, could my life get any worse.

“Uh…J.J. …” I heard Qui-Gon’s ethereal voice drift up behind me. “Uh…can I ask you something?”

“Ohhh…I suppose so. What is it?”

“So like…I’m your best friend and all right?”

“Uh…yeah.”

“So like…why didn’t you invite me to your wedding and all, man. I would have like…baked some special wedding brownies and all had I known.”

“Hey, If I had known I was getting married to…that…I would have stabbed myself repeatedly until I resembled swiss cheese. I was wasted, Qui. I was out of my freaking head with booze and death sticks and god knows what else. The last thing I remember was sitting in a pool ordering drinks. …And that was just the first day. Who knows what else I did while I was there. But I certainly wouldn’t have gotten married to Miss Black n’ Decker in there!”

Just then…she stepped into the hallway…

Ah jeez…here come the tears…

Morning Mourning

Okay…just relax. I got ta tell myself I’ve been in tight situations like this before.

Carefully squints eyes open beneath a shelter of blankets.

Wait….she’s gone. She must have gotten up after I pretended to fall back asleep. Maybe she got dressed and slinked back to where ever she came from.

Throws the covers back and takes a deep breath.

Oh man oh man oh man…I can’t believe I had inter-species sex with a…..Ithorian. I must have been really hammered!

Cringe at bad pun and reach for a stogie on the bedside table. Light it up and take a steadying breath. Look around carefully at my surroundings.

Hey….wait a moment….this is my room…AT HOME! I think…? Who put up all this foo-foo crap? Oooh….my head. I wish I could remember more.

Some floating images of the night before drift back into his memory.

Oh…oh yeah…I forgot that Ithorian’s have two mouths…that was kinda sweet…

He throws the covers off himself and gets up, grabbing a fresh robe.

So how did I manage to get back home? I wonder if…she drove me? Oh, never again will I drink like that. Well, too late now. Chalk it up to a learning experience and let it go. No need to dwell on the past and all.

Slips on his Jo Jo the Monkeyboy slippers and walks out of his room towards the kitchen. The smell of frying bacon and eggs whiff down the hall to greet his nose.

“Oh…Qui….what a weekend. I’m sorry I drank so much. Ya got any coffee in there?”

Walk in kitchen…stop short stunned.

“Hey man, you’re finally up. I was beginning to wonder about you.” Said Qui-Gon fixing some tea.

“Oh, there you are sweetie-pea.” The Ithorian mewed in stereo. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep the whole day away. After last night, I wouldn’t be surprised…” Wink. Wink.

“Hey, like, Rhonda here has been telling me how you guys met and all, man. Who would have thought you would take to sumo wrestling?”

“Rhonda? Rhonda who?” I spoke in stunned breaths.

“Aww…isn’t he a kidder. Why me, silly. Your wife. Don’t you remember we got married at the casino?”

EEEEeeep!

Coyote Morning

Oooooh ….my head….

The pounding….the pain….how…how much did I drink last night?

Oh yeah…that’s right. Quite a lot I suppose. I remember downing all those jello shots with Gungan vodka in them. How many did I have….twenty five? Thirty five? When will I learn?

Eyes squint open ever so slightly.

Morning….great. To blasted light. My head feels like the exhaust of a pod racer. Now…where am I again? Oh yeah….at Watto’s Casino Hotel. Yeah…that registered.

Eyes open a little more.

Hmmm….looks like I managed to make it back to my room. That’s a good sign at least. What a weekend! Ohhhhh….I gotta remind Qui to remind me not to mix more than a dozen drinks in one sitting.

Slightly pushes his head up on his pillow. Smacks his pasty lips and tries to look around.

Ohhh….I wish the room would stop spinning. I hate the spins. Man, it must have been some party. I wish…I could remember most of it.

His head turns ever so slightly to the mound next to him in bed.

Heh? Wazzat? Who’s th-

“…..Morning.”

New Mos Eisley

Finally…it’s over.

My hosting duties are done. Not that Survivor: Tatooine wasn’t fun, it’s just I’ll be glad to return to my daily life of sleeping in late, drinking too much and cussing out the help.

But while I was still on Tatooine seeing the old homestead, I also needed to swing down into Mos Eisley to get my final paycheck from the producer. Some tool named Mark Burnett I think.

The first thing I noticed when I got into town is how much the place has changed. I mean, look at it! What was once a sleepy, gritty town is now an over commercialized tourist trap.

Hmmmm….Dooku seems to be making a killing here too….

So I found this Burnett character’s office, and after waiting around for nearly three hours with nothing to do but look through five year old Better Blasters and Gaffi Sticks Magazines, I was allowed in to see him.

Right away I kinda got a bad feeling about the guy.

“Well Well, Mr Jawa Jude, nice to finally see you. I’d like to congratulate you on a fine job as host of my little Survivor show. The ratings were fantastic. Here’s your check.”

“What’s with all the extraneous merchandising? The place looks like a carnival out there.”

“No, it’s an amusement park; it’s opening up next week,” he told me with a greasy smile. “And sales of Jawa Juice are going through the roof.”

Not to mention all the little gifts and stuff for the kids. Like this Survivor: Tatooine winner costume. Boy, the kids are eating it up.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. So where’s my cut in all this?”
”Oh…well…dear oh dear. Well, you see you signed on just to be the host. There’s nothing in the contract stipulating that you get any other money resulting from over blatant profiteering on your good name. eh…sorry.”

I looked at my check and it would hardly pay the rent. Great. Screwed again.

I didn’t know if I should tear this guy a new one or be flat out in awe of his business technique. I opted to find the nearest cantina and get drunk.

(Thanks to Becks for the assist on the pictures.)