Friday, March 24, 2006

The Meaning of Spice

“It has come to our attention, here at the M.O.S.,”* (*Ministry of Spice) “that you two have misplaced your permit to sell spice in the guise of delicious snack items, and now wish to procure a new one. Is that right?” Inspector Bif S’Naus Ages asked us with a menacing stare.

And all I could concentrate on was that damn thing on his head. I mean, really…what the hell is that? Hair? A hat? A malignant growth? He was also beginning to make the room smell of biscuits and gravy. But since he was the only thing standing in me and Qui-Gon’s way to returning to our business of spice brownie mongers, it looks like I would have to hear him out.

“Okay, bub. What do we haveta do?”

“First off, you must go thorough a few tests. I’ll only need one of you to complete these tests.”

I looked over to Qui Gon who was busy opening a jar of pickled onions and freeing them all over our rug. “Eh…I guess that would be me.” I told him.

“Excellent. It’s an eye exam and IQ test all rolled into one. My colleague, Inspector Bif Wellingt’n will administer it.”

He then walked in.

“Good evening. First off, I need you to read out loud all the words on this paper. Don’t pay any mind if they don’t quite make scene, just make sure you read them out loud.”

He handed me the paper and I read it…

EYE

HAM

WE

TODD

DID.

EYE

HAM

SOFA

KING

WE

TODD

DID.

The room burst out in laughter. “Ah, that was splendid. Splendid indeed.”

“I don’t get it,” I told him. “What does that have to do with getting a spice permit?”

“What? Oh…uh, nothing at all, actually. We were just having a bit of fun at your expense. Now…on to the real test. Let me bring in a few associates of mine. This is Inspector Bif Shank…”

“…And Inspector Bif Jurk’ee. They will test your reflexes.”

“Hold your hand here…” Inspector Bif Shank placed my hand below my chin. Suddenly Inspector Bif Jurk’ee smacked me with a plucked chicken.

“Aaaaagh!”

“Good, good, but we want more of a ‘Waaaahhg’ sound.” Inspector Shank clarified. “Now put your hand here.”

“What?” The chicken again… “Waaaahhg!”

“Oh better, better.”

“That was great!” Inspector Bif Wellingt’n wrote something on his clip board. “High scores indeed.”

“I still don’t see what this…”

“And now we must bring in Inspector Bif Spam Spam Spam “Spam” and Bif.”

The final inspector came through the door with a fist full of grapes and a crazed look.

“Look out Mr. Juice!!!” Warned Bif Jurk’ee, “He’s coming at you with fresh fruit!!!!”

The inspector started to scream and run at me, only to be intercepted by a tiger that came out of nowhere and ate the man where he stood.

“Well…that was quick thinking, Mr. Juice. Bloody good idea about that tiger and all.”

“But…I don’t own a tiger…I don’t know where that came from…”

Just then, Count Dooku began to quietly laugh. He stopped when we all turned to him. He looked at us with those big globe-like eyes and said, “Oh…well…I had to amuse myself while you were away. A tiger seemed the logical choice.”

This was getting all too silly for me. My mind couldn’t take it. “That’s it!!!! Who are you guys really???”

They all looked at me (except for the one being eaten by the tiger, of course) with an air of innocence. “I’m not sure I follow you.” Inspector Bif S’Naus Ages stated. We’re here to give you and Mr. Jinn a spice permit, providing you pass our tests.”

“And did I pass already?” I asked fuming.

The inspectors suddenly huddled together and looked over their notes. When they broke off, Inspector Bif S’Naus Ages stepped forward. “Yes…well almost. You see, A new law was recently enacted that states that all those now applying for a spice permit must have at least a weeks worth or retail experience. In other words, to be able to sell your special spiced brownies all over the galaxy again you must first be able to sell them…by yourselves…in a special retail shop.”

“Well that doesn’t sound too bad…”

“…in THE MALL!!!”

“NNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” I heard Qui-Gon yell behind me. I quickly turned to him. “Don’t worry, Qui ol buddy. We can do this. We have to do this.”

“I…I know, man. It’s just…have you ever been to the Coruscant Mall before? It’s evil, man. Pure evil!”

“Yes, well I’m sorry but if you want a new spice permit,” Inspector Bif (whoever) said, “You WILL have to do this final test.”

“Yeah, Yeah…I get the picture. We’ll do it. Jeezz!!! I didn’t expect a Spanish inquisition!!”










“NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISI- oh damn. The post is over.”

8 comments:

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

That parrot wasn't dead. It was very much alive.

Vegeta said...

I was right they were all on the spice.

A Army Of (Cl)One said...

their chief weapon is suprise ...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... their two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... their *three* weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the the republic.... their *four*...no... *Amongst* their weapons.... Amongst their eaponry...are such elements as fear, surprise.... Or so I hear

Anonymous said...

That post almost made sense.

Anonymous said...

We Todd Did, I know that Guy.

He is a good friend of Uncle Skeeter.

But there is a Warrant for his arrest right now.

Jedi Healer said...

Spanish inquisition! Is that anything like a jedi fact finding team?

Jardena said...

You'd think the Spanish Inquisition would actually be pretty easy to spot in those outfits. Those hats just scream for attention. And the flaming red color doesn't help matters much either

Master Yoda said...

At least have to deal with Bif A'roni, you did not. But I think over at the Ministry of Silly Walks, he is now.