tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-137216622024-03-06T21:10:51.610-08:00JawaJuiceConfessions of a Droid-Repo JawaJawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1150386260414477522006-06-15T08:44:00.000-07:002006-06-15T08:44:20.720-07:00Postcards from the Edge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/postcard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/postcard.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Greetings and Salutations.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It came to me as I was receiving my daily rub down and eye polishing treatment that it was a year ago today that I first put my little fingers to blogging my exploits. Where has the time gone? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This picture of Qui and myself was taken the other day. I know. Qui had his eyes shut. He always blinks in front of a camera.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I would like to tell everyone out there that I’m doing fine and I miss all of you very much. But alas, this was something I needed to do. My brain was getting crunchy. My nerves a bit vamwoozally. And my bowels…well. I won’t go there. Suffice to say it wasn’t pretty. Qui and I are doing well. This cruise is wonderful and just what I needed for this time in my life. I’m even able to return to the book I’ve been writing all these years. Who knows, maybe I’ll finish it finally. And yes, the rumors are true, it is doubtful I will be returning (or at least any time soon). Know that I have enjoyed every moment of interaction with all of you out there. You guys are a swell bunch of people. (um…except for maybe Mace…his insisting we go to cucumber facials and crying therapy all the time kinda creeps me out.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It has been golden age, looking at this past year. One that I doubt will ever be duplicated anytime soon, if ever. And I will always be glad I was a part of it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to put a fresh dusting of sand down my shorts.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Have a brownie on us.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">…or two or five.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">J.J.</p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1148060344662330712006-05-19T10:32:00.000-07:002006-05-19T11:18:06.326-07:00I'm...Sailing...Away...<i style=""><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">…set an open course for the virgin sea…<br /><br /></span><o:p></o:p></i> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It all started when I was in my office cleaning my blaster. Qui-gon stepped inside and saw me and suddenly freaked out. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“SWEET JU-JU-BEES!!! DON’T DO IT!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then using the force, he knocked the gun out of my hand. I looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and irritation. “Hey, I was..”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I know man. But it’s not worth it. You still have plenty of life in you yet. I know you’ve been under a strain lately but you can’t shoot yourself.”<br />”Wha-? Shoot myself? No I…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“It’s not that I wouldn’t mind the company in the Æther, man, but it’s just not your time. Besides…I really don’t want to clean up the mess. You ever clean up jawa brains? Man, that stuff is worse than cleaning pudding.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Um….ya done?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-gon thought about it for a moment. Looked at my jar of metal polish and opened it up, draining the liquid onto the rug. “uh…..yeah. I think so.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Okay, first off, I was just cleaning my old blaster. I had nothing better to do this afternoon. The brownie business is running so smooth; I hardly have to do anything anymore.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Really? Gee, you look pretty tired of late, man.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I could say the same for you too, my friend. But yes, I feel tired. Sort of all thin and stretched, if you know what I mean; like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. I feel I need a holiday, a very long holiday. I’ve lived all my life on a desert planet and now I want to see oceans. Oceans, Qui-Gon. Oceans! I think it’s time I took a long cruise. I’ve been looking into an ocean liner that does such things for months at a time. <span style=""> </span>…I’ve booked myself on one.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh….wow…um….well…I hope you have a nice time, man. I hope it helps you. Really.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I smiled up at Qui-Gon. “I have a second ticket…if you want it?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-Gon looked at the ticket then looked at the spilled metal polish. “Maybe it will help me with my…um…. ‘problem’.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“It may just do that. Not to mention they have all you can eat Funyuns on board.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">That brightened him up.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So after a hasty few days of packing and setting things straight here at home, we took a transport to the planet Tropic-0 where gigantic cruise ships do nothing but sail around in the balmy ocean. Our cabins were huge and had balconies that overlooked the sea. There was food a-plenty of every imaginable cuisine (I could even get my spicy BBQ ronto intestines). They had live music at night and even a floating casino. They had everything! <span style=""> </span>After a few days I began to truly relax for the first time in years. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-Gon himself began to relax too. He hardly ever opened up jars of stuff anymore. He was back to his old ethereal self.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">One afternoon as we reclined in our deck chairs watching the sun fall into the sea, Qui-Gon turned to me and said, “Sunsets are like life, man.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I looked over to see he was gobbing a brownie and waited for the bizarre explanation. But this time he surprised me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Sunsets are like life because they are so beautiful and no two are exactly the same. But they are so fleeting, man. You really only have a few moments to really enjoy their beauty before they slip away, you know? And so many people don’t even step outside and watch a sunset…not even <b style=""><i style="">their</i></b> sunset. They’re too involved in other things that they just miss them. I don’t think there’s any thing sadder than seeing someone who’s missed their own sunset. I mean, it’s yours, man. How can someone be so distracted with other things and not fully enjoy their sunset?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">I thought about it. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean, old friend.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">I offered Qui-Gon one of my special cigars and for a wonder, he tried it. He then offered me a brownie and I ate it. We then looked out over the golden ocean and watched the sun drip into the sea.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was glad to share this sunset with Qui.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/100_0284.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/100_0284.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span> <br /><p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><br /></i></p><p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Lay down…your sweet and weary head…<br />Night is falling. You’ve come to journey’s end.<br />Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before…<br />They are calling…from across a distant shore…<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style="">Why do you weep? What are these tear upon your face?<br />Soon you will see all of your fears will pass away<br />…safe in my arms.<br />You’re only sleeping.<o:p></o:p></i></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style="">What can you see…<br />On the horizon?<br />Why do the white gulls call?<br />Across the sea…<br />A pale moon rises<br />The ships have come to carry you home.</i></p> <p style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);" class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><o:p> </o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);">…and all will turn to silver glass</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);">A light on the water…<br />…all…souls…pass…<br />…into the west.</span><o:p></o:p></i></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1147630426079102882006-05-14T11:12:00.000-07:002006-05-14T11:13:46.483-07:00Just a random thought...<p class="MsoNormal">Arrrgg! Once again, stuck in rush hour traffic coming home from Tatooine. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hmmm… It’s been ages since I’ve heard from the F.O.O.F. boys. I wonder how they are holding up in Fluke’s absence. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://friendsofolfluke.blogspot.com/">Hmmm….</a></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1147103620440695142006-05-08T08:39:00.000-07:002006-05-08T08:53:40.906-07:00The J.A.W.A. Convention: Day 3Finally, the last day of the convention. Not that the other stuff wasn’t all shits and giggles but come on. I’m really only here to get my award. The coveted...prized…golden…Jawa Award! (also known as the Shemp for some reason)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jawa%20award.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/jawa%20award.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Hmmm…I think they’re making it with lead this year. Of course we had to sit through a long seminar with supposedly important jawas making speeches on how much we’ve contributed to the galaxy and what a credit our race is. Oh jeez, please! Everyone knows jawas are looked upon by almost everyone as just one step up from the common cockroach and three steps up from Snivians. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, I had to sit through speech after speech with just some watered down drinks to keep me satisfied until they handed out the award. Qui Gon sat beside me the entire time which got a lot of odd looks since most only saw a hovering poncho. But I could see he was drifting off to sleep too. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally, the awards ceremony was announced but not before some entertainment…<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/pimps.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/pimps.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Man, they were bad! What are we doing with an Earth band at a J.A.W.A. convention anyway?<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally the chairman of J.A.W.A. came up to announce the three finalists.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Today we come to honor three very important jawas. Jawas who have made a difference in the galaxy and thus deserve special recognition. <span style=""> </span>The first of the three is L’ookeebee, whose research in advanced sleeping techniques directly in the hot sun has allowed major breakthroughs in slacking.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jawa%20siesta.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/jawa%20siesta.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Next we have N’ooo’bb, an eccentric inventor from the <st1:place><st1:placename>Dune</st1:placename> <st1:placetype>Sea</st1:placetype></st1:place> and creator of the giant Space Nipple.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/noob.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/noob.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">“And thirdly, a jawa who wishes to only be known as J.J. whose remarkable skills in the marketing of yummy fudgy chocolaty spiced brownies has brought the galaxy much joy in a time of unrest.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jj.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/jj.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">“And the winner is……” I got up. “N’ooo’bb, for his giant Space Nipple.” I sat down.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Man, I was robbed. I give the galaxy spiced brownies and I don’t even win a Shemp? That blows! I slump down in my chair as this Noob guy walks up and get his award. Whatever. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Ain’t it time for us to be leaving yet?” I asked lighting a cigar and folding my arms.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh yeah, we can go now, J.J.” said Qui Gon. <span style=""> </span>“Besides…you got to go back and count all those <i style="font-weight: bold;">millions</i> of credits you’re making from your business.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I smiled up at him. He always knew the right thing to say.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I guess it wasn’t a total loss. It was nice seeing everyone again. I came out of the casino’s ahead, Qui bought some rare plants for his garden and as runner up I got this cool autographed picture of Queen Galacta.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/queen%20gift.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/queen%20gift.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1146498146727805592006-05-01T08:25:00.000-07:002006-05-01T08:42:27.250-07:00The J.A.W.A. Convention: Day 2This is the day of the convention I think I might enjoy the most. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to win my award tomorrow but I’ll have to sit through the seminar first. Almost a whole day of jawa’s talking and patting each other on the back. They just need to pat me on the back and get done with it. <p class="MsoNormal">But today was the day when all the new jawa-made gadgets got rolled out for all to see. It was a regular what’s new in the field of transports and droids. Unfortunately the main convention room was still being cleaned up from last nights festivities so they had to show the stuff outside in the parking lot. Oh well.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/sandcrawler1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/sandcrawler1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The place was packed and everyone clamored to get a glimpse of the new crap. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">When it came to droids, there was this nifty bird droid. It always stayed on its perch and it never pooped. It could also sing in 3000 different bird song.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/birdcage_ross.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/birdcage_ross.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">But on closer inspection I saw that the bird itself was stuffed and nailed to the perch. The jawa hawking it said it had to be nailed or else it would take off…voom! I had my doubts.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">One of the more interesting droids I saw was this TOK-32 Tauntaun belly scratching droid. Man, that tauntaun looks like he’s in haven.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/21btauntaun.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/21btauntaun.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Next were the new vehicles of tomorrow. Like this compact sandcrawler. Jeez, these things are getting smaller each year.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/tiny%20speeder.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/tiny%20speeder.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Or this dog-cycle-thingy that actually walks itself.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dog%20speeder.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dog%20speeder.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some of the gadgets made even less sense. Like this cell phone for Rancors. I mean, come on? Who do Rancors have to call anyway? Room service? They get their food brought to em.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/insider_set.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/insider_set.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And this giant space nipple….um….I’m not even going to speculate what it’s for. (or why so many earth people hovered around it . <span style="font-size:78%;"> ...Earthmen are kinda creepy anyway... </span>)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/frenchlfl_workonset.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/frenchlfl_workonset.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">But all in all it was a very interesting day. Hell, even the local officials handed out free goodies to the kids at the end.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/gifts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/gifts.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1146147883416440982006-04-27T07:17:00.000-07:002006-04-27T07:27:22.973-07:00J.A.W.A. Convention: Day 1Ahh…Tatooine. Bright sun, burning air and miles of sand to get into those hard to reach places. <p class="MsoNormal">It’s been a while, but I thought it was time to drop in on the annual J.A.W.A. (Junk-dealing Associates With Ambition) convention. Especially since this year I’m one of three jawa’s up for their famed Jawa of the Year award. A very prestigious award, I might add. And although they don’t provide transportation (which is okay, I’ve racked up a lot of frequent flyer miles with Jawa Express), they do set everyone up at the beautiful Watto’s Dune Sea Desert Oasis & Casino.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Watto%27s.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Watto%27s.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I asked Qui Gon if he thought he could take a break from his busy schedule of opening jars of food, cans of beer, bottles of milk, boxes of cat litter, drawers of clothes, bags of mulch and come along with me. Thankfully, he released a heavy sigh and said yes. I really wanted to show him around at what I used to do and he seemed genuinely interested. Of course the Olympic size pool and huge gambling casino didn’t hurt in his decision either, I think.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The whole convention was to take place at Watto’s for an extended three day weekend. Day one was just for arrival, unpacking and mingling. Time to say hello and maybe make a few deals. Man, the place was packed!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jawa%20convention.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/jawa%20convention.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">At first Qui was a little freaked out by how crowded it was and so I let him wander off for a while. At first, he stopped in the casino, opening slot machines as he walked by…much to the gratitude of the people playing them as they franticly followed him, scooping up credits. That is until the casino owners asked him to leave. I don’t think he even realized what he was doing. He did, however, find the hotels huge indoor tropical arboretum and seemed genuinely happy to sit by the man made waterfall surrounded by leafy things and fluttering birds. I haven’t seen him that relaxed in a while.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So I decided to make the most of it and mingle with my other jawas. I even saw a few old chums. One of the biggest surprises was seeing my old Sandcrawler driver and right hand jawa, Je’bubb. Man, has he let himself go.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/fat%20jawa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/fat%20jawa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">It seems he too quit the droid repo life like me and decided for a more sedentary job as a speed bump on the corner of 5<sup>th</sup> and Lux’on. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“The pay is okay,” he told me as we stood pool side. “And I can set my own hours, but it still can be a dangerous job. Especially if you have to work a busy street. Now take Ko’lux…you remember him, don’t you?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Ehh…vaguely.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well, he too got a job as a speed bump not too long ago…but on the busiest street in Mos Eisley. Now look at him…” He showed me a picture.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jawa%20roadkill.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/jawa%20roadkill.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jawa%20roadkill.jpg"><br /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Jawa road kill. You just hate to see that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As the sun went down, we all herded into the dinning area to feast. And what a feast it was. The chairmen of J.A.W.A. didn’t spare any expense. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Afterwards, we were also given tickets to the resorts big fight being hosted that evening. It’s been ages since I saw a good fight at a ritzy hotel and this one looked especially good. Rocko the Rancor vs. Killer Kratt.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/rancor%20vs%20kratt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/rancor%20vs%20kratt.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Eh….the rancor won.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tomorrow, the convention will focus on new machines and droids and the latest junk to come out or be stolen. While the last day will focus on the J.A.W.A. seminar itself where, at the conclusion, the award of Jawa of the Year will be handed out. I wonder who the other two finalists are and what they’ve done? </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1145894608371137532006-04-24T08:54:00.000-07:002006-04-24T12:27:20.090-07:00Promos, Letters and Drunk SquirrelsWell, I’m home again. And not a moment too soon. Sure it was fun wielding my new lightsaber all around against crazed primates and my unhinged uncle, but I think it’s time to get back to normal. <p class="MsoNormal">I came home to find my I-SUC droid still not talking to me. For some reason he blames me for his new legs catching on fire, but that’s nuts. I was trying to put out the fire. You would think he really wanted to shut down permanently.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The first thing I wanted to do was jump in our hot tub and have a nice long soak. So I got out of my robes, walked out onto the balcony and what do I find…?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Yado%20Drunk.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Yado%20Drunk.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah man, Yado like went on a binge drinking MGE,” Qui Gon said as he drifted up behind me. </p><p class="MsoNormal">“MGE?”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:+0;"></span>“Miller Genuine Ether beer. It’s like…the only beer available in the ether man. It’s always warm too. Kinda sucks.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Why did he…?” </p><p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t know man. After you left he just kinda got a little depressed or something. Don’t know. Oh…but I’m glad you’re back. Take a look at this.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">Qui floated through the walls back inside. I quickly followed through the door. He stopped in the kitchen and took a jar of pickled pig’s feet and opened it, dumping out the pink jellied contents in the sink. “Um….I’ve seen you do that before, Qui ol buddy.” I told him none too impressed.</p><p class="MsoNormal">“What?” He looked down in the sink. “Oh…um…no that wasn’t it. Um…no, the new Uncle Jinn & J.J. tee shirts have arrived, man. Take a look at them.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/100_0816.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/100_0816.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">“I got to admit, they are pretty snazzy. You did a great job designing them, QG.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, wow, I’m sorry. I’m going off on all this and I haven’t even asked how your mission went.” He said concerned as he opened a can of pickled herring to accompany the pig’s feet. Where did we get this strange food, anyway? </p><p class="MsoNormal">“It all worked out in the end. Let’s just say my uncle won’t be bothering us until sweeps week rolls around again. Anything else new happen here while I was gone?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">“No, it’s been pretty quiet, man. Except for Yado’s snoring. Oh….wait…you also got more mail from J.A.W.A., man.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">J.A.W.A.: <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">J</span>unk-dealing <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">A</span>ssociates <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">W</span>ith <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">A</span>mbition…or at least that’s what it stands for now. I swear I think they change that acronym every month. I use to belong to them when they were just <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">J</span>uiced-up <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">A</span>ss-holes <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">W</span>ith <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">A</span>ttitudes. Ahh…they’ve come a long way. </p><p class="MsoNormal">“What do they want man?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">”Probably want me to contribute to their annual fund raiser.” I open up the letter half heartedly and read the contents. “Holy Smokes!! They want me to come to Tatooine this weekend at their annual J.A.W.A. convention. It seems I’m a candidate for their most successful Jawa of the year award!”</p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1144855389116856482006-04-12T08:01:00.000-07:002006-04-12T08:23:20.306-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/cover.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 424px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/cover.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/01.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/01.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/02.3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/02.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/03.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/03.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/04.3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/04.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/05.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/05.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/06.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/06.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/07.3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/07.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/08.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/08.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/09.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/09.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/10.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/10.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/11.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/11.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/12.3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/12.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/13.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/13.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/14.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/14.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/15.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/15.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/16.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/16.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);font-size:85%;" >(okay...I'm gonna take a nap now. I'll be back in one week...)</span></span>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1144686206486738732006-04-10T08:40:00.000-07:002006-04-10T09:26:09.703-07:0099 Bottles of Beer Posts on the WallWell, here I am. Flying off across the system to face my deranged Uncle E’etooi and his two militant primates of doom on the planet Muggmur. Just me, a tiny business jawa and my new lightsaber against the forces of evil. How do I get myself in these situations? <p class="MsoNormal">Life has certainly gotten more complex since I left Tatooine lo these many months ago. Flying across the galaxy certainly has given me time to reflect on it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">My life is so different now than it was growing up. I was one of eight jawas in a trailer park just south of the dune sea. My da was always working the droid repo circuit leaving my mom to take care of us back home. Of course we had an extended family staying with us too which meant us kids were sleeping in shoe boxes in the closet. But for the most part we were okay, (despite living next door to a family of Hutts). Uncle Noob was always nice to me and Great grandfather Oop’shaw taught me how to smoke my first cigar. Even Crazy Uncle E’etooi<span style=""> </span>and his mentally incompetent wife, Krip’ooi, weren’t so bad back then. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">As the years rolled on, I took over my father’s Droid repo business. That wasn’t so bad, although I did have to work with a bunch of losers who only wanted to use the sandcrawler for monster-crawler <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-hate-my-co-workers.html">pulls</a>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/sandcrawler_trick.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/sandcrawler_trick.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It wasn’t until I got arrested selling illegal Susan Powter <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-now-have-record.html">laserdiscs </a>that I decided I had had enough of this dustball. I needed to leave and see the world. Ironically, it was Uncle E’etooi in one of his saner moments that bailed me out of jail and sent me off to Coruscant to manage some property once owned by a Jedi Knight. Who knew that move was going to change my life so much. Once there, I met all sorts of new people. Master Yoda, Master Windu, the beautiful blue Aayla, Fluke, Obi-Wan. The list was endless. I had come home. My new <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/06/post-rescue-housewarming-party.html">home</a>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/PARTY.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/PARTY.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Anakin%27s%20Pimped%20out%20ride.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Anakin%27s%20Pimped%20out%20ride.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I had to make a living so I started off pimping up other people’s speeders. Some with good<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Jar%20Jars%20speeder.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Jar%20Jars%20speeder.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/06/so-you-want-new-speeder-eh.html">results</a>…some not so <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/06/jar-jars-new-speeder.html">good</a>.<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But the best thing by far that happened to me was the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/obi%20wan%20see%20qui%20gon.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/obi%20wan%20see%20qui%20gon.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> unexpected friendship of my penthouse apartment’s former tenant…the now force-ghost Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui and I hit it off right off the bat. He was the perfect relaxed counterpart to my “too much business” side of me. At first, I was the only one who could see him, but soon enough others like his</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> old padwan began to discover him…with mixed <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-see-dead-cheetos.html">results</a>.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Brownies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Brownies.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>With Qui and I, it wasn’t long until we hit upon our calling…making ‘special spiced’ <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/07/come-get-some-num-nums.html">brownies</a>!</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of course our new job didn’t stop us from enjoying the finer things in life…like our love for music and our extensive record <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/07/old-records.html">collection</a>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Disco%20doofus.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Disco%20doofus.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Darkside%20Candy.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Darkside%20Candy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal">After a while I began to branch out with other hobbies, like my armature <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/08/astrology-part-1-of-3.html">horoscopes</a>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/bantha01.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/bantha01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/JJ%20and%20Jeff.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/JJ%20and%20Jeff.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/009.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Not to mention making money through my hosting the reality game show Survivor:Tatooine as well as being a participant in Big Brother: Naboo. Of the two, I’ll take hosting any day. Playing in those games can be a…um….pain in the ass.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/palpy%20and%20j.j2.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/palpy%20and%20j.j2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>But it was the brownie business that really started to take off. Big enough that I was starting to challenge the other <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/09/meeting-of-snack-minds.html">big snack boys.</a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Frick%20and%20frack.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Frick%20and%20frack.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Then there was the time I had th</p> <p class="MsoNormal">e Friends of ol Fluke (F.O.O.F.) remodel our apartment.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/obi%20trashy.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/obi%20trashy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> –um…note to all those out there that may want their place refurbished in the near future… Don’t use college student, D&D gaming, still live with their mom, fanatical Fluke stalking dorks to redo your home. Trust me; you just won’t like the results. Even worse, while Frick and Frack played havoc with our walls, Qui and I were forced to bunk with Obi-Wan at the temple. Ohh….the <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/09/temporary-housing.html">horrors</a>.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/coyote%20morning.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/coyote%20morning.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Still, it couldn’t compare with the time I got so stinking drunk I wound up marrying an Ithorian named <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/11/coyote-morning.html">Rhonda</a>. Only to discover weeks later that it was all a scam for her to take my fortune away. Thanks to Dooku, who recognized her and sent her packing.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/brownie%20shop.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/brownie%20shop.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Of course I almost lost our brownie empire when Qui-Gon and Dooku got set up for possession of spice without a permit (Thanks again to my shrewish ex-wife). So in order to regain our brownie making privileges we had to work in a brownie shop in the mall for seven <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2006/03/retail-hell-day-one.html">hellish days.</a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Still, of all the escapades and adventures I have had since coming to Coruscant, none has yet to compare to the time I had to battle the sith ewok Darth Wuv and his master, Darth <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/08/chapter-1-windu-pain.html">Lemur</a>.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Star%20Lemur.4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Star%20Lemur.4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jj%20bunny.14.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/jj%20bunny.12.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> That was an epic for the books. With the help of Obi-Wan, Padmé, and Anakin, we traveled the space ways to defeat the hordes of stormlemurs from taking over the galaxy. Not to mention meeting Yado the Nuteye Knight squirrel who began my teachings down the path to THE FUR! Yes. It was a grand time.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hmm… thinking back on all that has happened to me, I guess I’m amazed so much has happened in so little time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But through the bad times and the good, one thing is for sure, I couldn’t have done it without my friends, both old and new. And although some have drifted away while new ones have come into the foreground, I have happy to call all of them my friends.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/poker%20night.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/poker%20night.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Which makes this little mission all the more ironic. This one…my confrontation with Uncle E’etooi…I have to do on my own. Just an ol jawa from the trailer parks of Tatooine gone to meet his destiny with his insane uncle. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I hope this doesn’t take long. I don’t want to miss Coruscant Idol. </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1144508005321008092006-04-08T07:48:00.000-07:002006-04-08T07:53:29.686-07:00Return of the Squirrel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Yado%20bathroom2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Yado%20bathroom2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>“Yado!!! You’ve returned! It’s been so long.” My little squeaky voice cracked with glee. <p class="MsoNormal">“It is good to see you too, my Nuteye Knight Padwan.” Yado said with a smile before franticly biting his butt at a bothersome flee. “Damn things. Even if I’m dead I still get force flees. Is there no justice?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Woah….Yado. Like man, it’s so good to see you.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Good to see you too, Qui-Gon Jinn. The Force has been good to you. You’re hair is so shinny.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh yeah. It’s that new conditioner I got. It was only…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“uh…you guys know you’re talking to a squirrel in a cape, right?” <st1:city><st1:place>Oneida</st1:place></st1:city> had to point out. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh yeah, it’s okay. He’s our Nuteye Knight Master. He trained both of us in the ways of <b style="">THE FUR!”</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“…the fur?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“no. <b style=""><span style="font-style: italic;">THE FUR!</span>”</b></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The commander looked and Qui and myself kinda funny like. “Ooooookay. Well, look at the time. I guess I should be going now. Your ship is in your garage and preprogrammed to take you to Muggmur. Good luck, J.J.” And with that, the commander took her leave of us. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“We are alone now. Good. Talk with you, I must. Very important, it is. Although sorry to see her go, I am. Nice gams she has.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So what are you doing here, Yado? I haven’t seen you since the whole Darth Lemur storyline.” <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/08/chapter-1-windu-pain.html">(Starting here)</a> “Does this have to do with my Crazy Uncle E’etooi kidnapping my ma so him and his two crazed chimps can lure me to their hideout and kill me?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yado froze where he stood and looked at me amazed. “How did…? You mean I came all the way through the Æther….just to….and you already knew about…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, commander <st1:city><st1:place>Oneida</st1:place></st1:city> just briefed me. I’m heading there right now…with my new lightsaber. Me and Uncle E’etooi are gonna have us a nice long chat…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next thing you know, I was smacked in the head by a force ghost paw. “you fool! Don’t you understand? That’s exactly what he wants.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But he kidnapped my ma…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I just came from your trailer park on Tatooine. Your mom is fine. She’s still there heating up some Chef-boy-R-Dewback for the family. Your Uncle E’etooi only said that to get you to come to him…so he can kill you.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“That’s okay. I got a lightsaber now.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Again with another savage blow to the head. “You’re no Jedi. You can’t use the Force. You’re only hope is to use <b style="font-style: italic;">THE FUR!</b> And even then I bet you haven’t been practicing your lessons, have you?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I looked down at my feet.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I thought not. Don’t you realize what your Uncle is? He’s your Arch enemy!! Everyone throughout their lives has one arch enemy. A person of great strength and evilness that plagues them throughout their life. It is this person one must overcome before you die to have their life complete. Your Uncle is this person for you. This will be your toughest fight…and you must do this…alone.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Do you have an arch enemy, Yado?” asked Qui-Gon.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yes. Even I have an arch enemy.<span style=""> </span><span style="font-size:85%;">….damn you, Mittens!! </span>But it is you I must advise now. You will have to use every trick I have taught you about <b style="font-style: italic;">THE FUR!</b> to defeat him. This will be your greatest challenge!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“oh…so I suppose you’re saying I should use my baton against him and leave the lightsaber at home.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Another smack to the head! “What are you, nuts? That lightsaber beats the hell out of some crappy-ass baton! You take that thing and slice him from here to Tuesday! Now go on. You have a date with destiny!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I…I won’t let you down, Yado. I’ll make you proud of me. I’ll make you see that I am worthy to still carry the name of Nuteye Knight!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Go then. Time is wasting. And may <b style="font-style: italic;">THE FUR!</b><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>be with you.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I then lit up a cigar and gave Qui-Gon a warm smile. “I’ll be back, buddy. Take care of the place while I’m gone.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You be careful, J.J. I’m not ready to see you in the Æther just yet.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With lightsaber in hand, I then raced to the garage and hopped in my waiting ship and took off to the planet Muggmun…to face my destiny.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jj%20leaves.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/jj%20leaves.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So…” Yado said after my departure. “Can I have his room if he bites the big one?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…uh…I guess so.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Great. What do you have to eat around here?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You like brownies?” </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1144333994970604762006-04-06T07:27:00.000-07:002006-04-06T07:33:15.506-07:00The Report and the MissionCommander Oneida had just stepped into my living room. Qui-Gon was bringing her a glass of water. What ever it was that she came over to tell me, it didn’t look good. I sat down. <p class="MsoNormal">“J.J. …I ‘m here on official business. It involves your mother.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“My ma? What happened? Is she all right?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I…hope so. But it seems she’s been…kidnapped.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">”Kidnapped? How? By who?” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I think I should start at the beginning.” She took a sip of water. “Do you remember at the Big Brother House that room of yours? You know, the holographic painted one to look like a tropical island?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Are you kidding? Sure. I was even considering doing the same in my room here. Why?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Do you remember the monkeys that Obi-Wan brought in when he was staying in that room?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…yeah.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well, it seems that when you left, being the last person in that room, those primates had a little….uprising. Now, I called animal control and they came over and cleared them out before any of them could pose any real trouble. They took all of them away, guns and all. All except the leader and his right hand man…eh…chimp. It seems they escaped.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/monkeys.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/monkeys.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“And you only noticed it now?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well, they do look a lot alike. I didn’t think much of it until I got a report the other day. It seems the simian leader Tony Soprana-banana and his second in command, Guido have been discovered on the planet of Muggmur.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Okay, so have some of your clones go down there to grab em? What does this have ta do with me?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“We can’t. Muggmur is an outlaw planet; untouched by our galactic laws. It is a haven for criminals of all types. Until we can devise a space station that can actually blow the whole world up, we can’t land there.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, a space station to blow up a planet. That will be the day.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…yeah. Heh heh.” She laughed nervously. “What a silly thing.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I still don’t see what this has to do with me…or my ma.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“It seems the primates were the genetically engineered result of some mad person who wished to use them to take over the galaxy. After the failed first attempt, Tony Soprana-Banana and Guido had no place to go but to return to the person who created them. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Your uncle….Crazy Uncle E’etooi!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/E%27etooi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/E%27etooi.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“My Uncle…again?”</p> <p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">(For those of you who think they missed an episode in JawajuiceJumpUp, those adventures could be found in the cyber pages of both <a href="http://yaraelpoof.blogspot.com/">Yarael Poof’</a>s and<a href="http://mesajarjar.blogspot.com/"> Jar Jar’</a>s blogs in epic stories told throughout the end of last year. Read ‘em! They’re bitchin’!)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“And he’s the one who kidnapped your mom.” <st1:city><st1:place>Oneida</st1:place></st1:city> finished.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But how do you know this?” Asked Qui-Gon.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“We intercepted this message. Apparently meant for you, J.J. He wants you to come to Muggmur and meet him alone…face to face. If you do that…he’ll let your mom go.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Woah…dude. It’s a trap,” Qui said in his best admiral Ackbar impersonation. “He obviously wants to kill you for foiling all his past plans. And like…he’s got chimps with him too.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So you thought I can go there and take care of him for ya, is that it?” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“We have a ship waiting to transport you right now. Unfortunately the Republic can’t land on that planet to help you, though. You’ll be facing him all alone.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Not all alone…” I said eyeing my new lightsaber.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Then you’ll go?” Commander Oneida asked.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah. I think it’s time me and my Uncle had a little….quality time together.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Great. I was hoping you would say that. Um…can I use your bathroom before I go?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Sure thing. It’s the first door on your right.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After she left the room, Qui-Gon leaned in close to me. “Dude…Do you want me to come along with you? I mean…chimps man, chimps!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Naw. You hold down the fort here. I’ll be alright. I just got to show ol Uncle E’etooi my new present, that’s all.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“J.J. That’s like, revenge man. Revenge leads to the dark side of the force.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But I’m not a Jedi. I’m just a jawa with a lightsaber, remember?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…yeah. Well I guess that’s okay.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just then <st1:city><st1:place>Oneida</st1:place></st1:city> came back out into the living room. “Uh…J.J. There’s a squirrel in your bathroom.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh I’m sorry. Did I forget to flush again?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“No no. A real squirrel. -I think.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My eyes grew bright as I raced into the bathroom to find…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yado, the Nuteye Knight Master!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Yado%20bathroom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Yado%20bathroom.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1144259578887374082006-04-05T10:34:00.000-07:002006-04-05T10:52:59.730-07:00Sword PlayAfter a long day in the office, which by the way just happens to be in my penthouse apartment, I figured it was high time to hop down the hall to the kitchen and grab me a snack. I felt good again. All the reports were in and the brownie production was up and running. Best of all, Qui-Gon and I could now step back into our appropriate rolls as CEO and figureheads. <p class="MsoNormal">I walked through the living room where Qui was finishing up cleaning his little…eh…incident the other day. “You feeling better?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, yeah. I spent the night with my plants meditating and listening to old records of Bob Dugyn,” he responded with a relaxed smile.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey. Where’s Dooku?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">”Oh, he said now that he’s back to normal he can go out and show his face again. So…I don’t know. He went out. Oh, you got some mail on the counter there.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I took a look. Most of it was junk mail. There was a letter from J.A.W.A. (the Jawa Advanced Wonders Association- a union of Jawas back home that I belong to.) Probably want another donation. I’ll put that one on the bottom of the pile. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I then came across a long package address to me from Fluke Skywalker. With increasing interest, I opened the package and found….</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A lightsaber!! Not just any lightsaber…but MY lightsaber. It seems Fluke gave me a lightsaber <a href="http://fusethesporesfluke.blogspot.com/2006/01/back-to-our-regularly-scheduled.html">some time back</a> but I was too busy with other stuff at the time and forgot about it. <span style=""> </span>I turned it on. It was green!!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Woah….This is cool!!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-Gon looked up and I think his face got as pale as milk. “Uh…J.J. That’s a lightsaber.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I know that.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Who gave that to you?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Fluke”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>I heard Qui shake his head and mutter ‘Goobersmoocher’ under his breath. “Only Jedi are supposed to use those.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But Fluke’s not a Jedi, he’s a <i style="">wannabe</i>.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…well…I guess that’s all right then. But you should be careful with that, man. A lightsaber is a delicate weapon yet extremely dangerous in the hands of an untrained person. It requires years of practice and diligence to the forms to….</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“YAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!”</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/ll%20with%20lightsaber%202.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/ll%20with%20lightsaber%202.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“J.J.! Now stop that. You can’t just run around with a lightsaber like…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/ll%20with%20lightsaber%201.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/ll%20with%20lightsaber%201.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I guess I got a little over exuberant cos the next thing I knew I was being lifted into the air while my arms became as stiff as stone. I took a deep breath and looked down to see Qui using the Force on me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’m sorry, man. But if you are going to use a lightsaber, you got to learn control. And besides…I just finished cleaning up the place.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Eh….Sorry Qui. I guess I got a little carried away. It’s just that I always wanted a lightsaber.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I understand,” he spoke in sympathetic tones releasing me from the Force. “But it takes a very disciplined mind to start down the Jedi path.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Woah. Wait a second. Who said anything about being a Jedi? Jawas can’t touch the Force. We can barely touch a counter top. I just want to use a lightsaber.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But only Jedi may use lightsabers as their weapon.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Is it in writing?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“um…..oh……well, no. It’s kind of an unwritten code, but-"</p><p class="MsoNormal">”Ulp! Not in writing then it’s not legally binding. You know that.” I then turned on my turgid green saber once again. “HiiiiiiiiiYAAAAAAA!!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“No. No. Wait. Let me at least…um train you how to use the thing so that you don’t kill yourself…..or me again.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Trainning? Why do I need training? Don’t you just wave this thing around spastically-like until you hit something?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…well…I guess you do.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well, there ya go. Training’s over. Now to…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just then, the doorbell rang. And just as I was about to do a back flip. “All right, all right. I’ll let you give me some pointers. Let me get the door first.” I turned off my new weapon and walked over to the door. I half expected Yoda behind it. (You know how he is when he hears someone breaking his precious Jedi Code…I bet those Force Wedgies he administers aren’t written in the Jedi Code either…)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As it turned out, the face behind the door was non-other than Commander Oneida.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/4138_003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/4138_003.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was very surprised to see her. It seemed kinda early for a booty call. <span style="font-size:78%;">(Of course I would never tell her I thought of such a thing…)</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“J.J. ….I need to talk to you.” She was dressed in her formal naval officer blues and had a grim look on her face. Obviously she was on duty.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, come on in. I haven’t seen ya since the Big Brother game. What’s shakin’ toots?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">She looked uncomfortable at first, like she didn’t know where to start. “I…I have some bad news for you. It’s….it’s about your mom.”</p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1144165325954503042006-04-04T08:22:00.000-07:002006-04-05T08:41:11.566-07:00Epilogue: Alls Well That Ails Well<p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">Continued from <a href="http://quigonthebuzzed.blogspot.com/2006/04/retail-hell-heck-mall-sucks-finale.html">here</a>.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After 7 days of pure retail mall hell, I once again have a permit to sell spice in the form of my super fudgy brownies. Production began immediately. Soon, all will be right in the universe. That is until I came home to see a new horror.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Every jar, every container, every orifice was opened through out penthouse. I had never seen its likes before. And there was Qui-Gon, huddled in a corner with wide frantic eyes repeating the same thing over and over…</p><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">"Light is Green...Trap is Clean...Light is Green...Trap is Clean...Light is Green...Trap is Clean..."<br /><br /><br /></span>Then I looked over next to him to the strewn apart wheelchair and sparking wires clutching the ground and inching his way closer to Qui-Gon. It was my I-SUC droid. At first I thought he was dead, or as dead as a droid could get. Apparently Qui-Gon’s need to open everything in sight didn’t limit itself to household droids. <p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">His carafe had cracked and coffee was everywhere. Yet still it inched its way across the floor towards Qui.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“No. I’ll save you I-SUC. Qui didn’t mean it.”</p> <p style="font-family: courier new; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">“You…don’t understand….finish the job….damn you….finish the job…You were almost there….don’t make me…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I scooped up the pieces of I-Suc and ran him to the droid work room. I gave him a new carafe of hot coffee and plugged him in to a droid electrical I.V. “You just relax, SUC-man, I’ll fix ya up. You’ll be all better by tomorrow.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As I left I could have sworn I heard him sobbing and saying, <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >“So….close….I was so….damn….close….”</span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I walked back into the living room I discovered we now had two more visitors. Count Dooku and Jedi Knight and medic Barriss Offee had just come in the door and were surveying the scene very quietly. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, dear,” Dooku replied aghast. “I can’t possibly be expected to stay here under these circumstances. You do understand I have an image to keep.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was then that I realized ol Dookster wasn’t a Sleestak anymore. He was back to his old pompous self. And so, curiosity biting my toenails, I had to ask him how he got back to normal.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well, It wasn’t easy, I can assure you. If it weren’t for <span style=""> </span>the medical help of Master Offee here I might have remained a sleestak forever…or worse. It seems while you two were out having fun with the public all last week, Master Offee kept blending potions and elixirs for me to consume in hopes that I would change back to my old self. At first I had my doubts that it would ever work. I was transformed into many a different shape until she got it right.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“oh….too big and slimy…”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20ackbar.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20ackbar.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Too small and slimy.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20sullustan.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20sullustan.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, Frick no…”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20frick.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20frick.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Too confusing…”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20leiaman.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20leiaman.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh my! This is getting appalling. Nothing could be worse than this.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20jo%20jo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20jo%20jo.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh dear, I spoke too soon.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20hasslehoff.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20hasslehoff.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Fortunately after those first few test potions,” Barriss concluded, “I came upon the right chemical balance to restore Dooku to his normal state.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I looked over to Qui-Gon shaking in the corner. “Maybe you can do something to help my buddy here. He hasn’t been the same since he came back from prison and I think the stress and toil of working at the mall finally pushed him over the edge.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“He must be suffering from some post traumatic episode he experienced in jail. Perhaps the stress of being confined in one of those ghost-traps all those weeks manifested it’s self in an uncontrollable urge to open every closed container in sight.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Can you do anything for him?” I asked.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’m not sure. It’s going to take time. Who knows what torture he was subjected to in prison….”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Quis%20torment.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Quis%20torment.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I needed to do something. Here was my best bud lying on the floor like a crazed weasel. Not to mention all the beer he opened up had grown warm and flat. This was just not going to do. I had to come up with something. But what did he need? </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I walked over to him and his wide eyes shot up. He tried to force a smile but it came out more like a grimace.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >“Light is green…trap is clean…” </span>He whispered. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I shook my head. “Now come on, Qui. You’re talking crazy…take it easy now.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He then grabbed a jar of picked herring he had kept hidden in his robes. <span style="font-style: italic;">“BACK OFF, MAN! DON’T MAKE ME OPEN THIS!!!”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Easy, Qui. Take it easy now…” I took a step closer.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">“THAT’S IT!!! NOW YOU’VE DONE IT!!!YOU FORCED ME TO USE THIS!!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He then opened the jar and poured the milky contents all over himself. “<span style="font-style: italic;">You’re FREE!! FREEEEEEE!!!!”</span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I tried to stop him but it was too late. He was covered in picked herring. “You poor crazy kid.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And then it hit me. He wasn’t quite talking like himself. In fact, since he returned from prison his style of talking was more somber, more ponderous, more of a monologue. Not only that, but unless he had brownies in his system his speech was always in <i style="">italics</i>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">That was it!!! Qui had been so busy the past few days with the brownie store he wasn’t able to partake in his own life nourishing brownies. The very food that brought out the lighter free-wheeling hippy side of Qui. That soul nourishing spice that allowed that pure euphoria to course through his ether-like veins and be one with the universe. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I knew I had a fresh one in my robe. I grabbed it and ripped off the wrapper and held it to Qui’s eyes. He stopped mumbling and his pupils dilated. A shaky hand reached up.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">“Is that…..is that….?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Come on….take it.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">He took the brownie. At first he only nibbled off the crunchy edges then he took bigger bites until the whole thing was in his mouth. I could see the return of the good clean shimmering glow that surrounded him. The shakes were gone. The eyes were clear. I thought I smelled fresh flowers in the air and the music of ‘HAIR’s<span style=""> </span>Age of Aquarius” drifting on the wind. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">When he was finished he took a deep breath and looked up at me with a smile. “Thanks dude. How did you know?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Cos you’re my friend, Qui. Cos you’re my friend.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He got up and dusted his poncho off. He then took a good look around at the chaos. “Oh, wow man…Did I, like, do all this?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I handed him a mop and broom. “Yup. And you’re gonna do it all again…with these.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We all suddenly laughed; me, Qui, Dooku and Barriss, and froze in place while the credits rolled past. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Gods, I hate cheesy endings like that!</p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1143825109409582512006-03-31T09:02:00.000-08:002006-03-31T09:11:49.853-08:00Retail Hell: Day 5One more day…we just need to make it through one more day… <p class="MsoNormal">Still, the stale smell of the store when we walked in was almost enough to make me urp. Even my brownie intake has suffered. It’s amazing how little you want something you love when you’re constantly bombarded with it every day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once again, Mr. S’Naus Ages was there to greet us. “Hurry now, hurry. The doors will be opening up any minute.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Why….what’s happening today?” I asked wearily. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Don’t you know what day it is? It’s clone trooper appreciation day! It’s kinda like Labor Day but for just clone troopers. They’re all off today so I set up another promotion. All clone troopers get a free brownie. Ain’t that great? Didn’t you see the line of them outside?”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/clone%20line.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/clone%20line.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Sorry, must have missed it when I had to park my speeder in Bom’Fok Egypt!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Where?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Never mind. Where’s my apron. Let’s get this over with.” What a tool…</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">***<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Surprisingly there were few instances with the Clone Troopers. But I think they were trying to get extra samples.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’ll take my free brownie, please.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Eh sure…hey, weren’t you here just an hour ago?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“eh…nope. Not <st1:state><st1:place>me.</st1:place></st1:state>” I distinctly heard some muffled snickering from the other troopers.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hmmm….are you sure?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, absolutely.” Some more snickering. “Must have been someone else. We do look a lot alike.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Then what’s that dark stuff on your helmet?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…this…eh….mud sir.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I gave him his brownie as other troopers in line started to laugh. ….Clones!!!</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Other than that there wasn’t any problem with the clones…with us anyway.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">There was that one skirmish when a family of Wookies waited in line for a dozen Fluky Fudge Ripple brownies and the clone right in front of them took the last ones.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Never come between a Wookie and his brownies.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/wookie%20vs%20trooper.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/wookie%20vs%20trooper.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yup…the mall clones had to be called in for this one.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">***<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Later, a gran walked up to the counter and took out a sack and dumped its contents out. Inside were old candy bars of various stages of decay. I looked up at him perplexed. “What’s this?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“um….do you guys except trade?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“For what…brownies?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh….yeah. there’s some nice chocolate here. Wookiee Ways, Twi’lek Twix, even a Three Mustafarian.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“no. We don’t do trades!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But they’re still good…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“We don’t do trades. But I hear there’s a video game shop on the next level that will take almost anything. You can try them. Ask for Becks.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh cool. Thanks!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I knew it….damn gamers….”</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">***<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Only three hours into the day and the line is once again huge. “Okay….next,” I announced wearily. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some mall kids walked up dressed in oversized clothes dully tie-dyed. Their long hair and lazy eyes pegged them for slackers. “We’d like a fudgy brownie, Mr. J.J.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Sure thing, kid.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“And could we like get your autograph too?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“My….what?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You’re like…our hero man. Before your brownies…we were like…lost, man. Then those brownies, like, showed us the way. We’re Brown-ites, man. We heard your plight on the radio. This <a href="http://armyofclone.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_armyofclone_archive.html">new song</a> is playing all the time. So we thought we’d come down here and see you in person-like. I even got, like, posters on my wall man.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Of me?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“No, of your brownies man. Cool posters with day glow colors and stuff. They glow with my black light. Wow. I can’t believe we’re actually talking to you. Where’s Mr. Jinn?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“He’s in the back making a new batch.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…bummer. Tell him Tony said hi.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Eh…sure thing kid. Here’s your brownie.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Wow…a brownie given to me by J.J.’s own hand. Righteous! Oh…and can we have your autograph man?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well I don’t have a pen.<span style=""> </span>…but here. Take this napkin.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Cool. Can you first wipe your face with it?”</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">***<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A smartly dressed Aqualish stepped up. Suddenly a strange chiming-bubbling sound came from his pocket. He took out his cell phone. “Hello? Oh hey No’otsa. How ya doing?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Um…What would you like, sir?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He held up his finger at me to wait. “No, no, I’m not doing anything…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Sir, you’re holding up the line…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey….I’m on the phone here, buddy. One moment…”He then returned to his call without skipping a beat. “No, it’s nothing. Just some rude guy. So…how’s the kids? …uh huh……and the misses? …..uh huh…..and your plants? ….uh huh….”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Next.” I yelled out. A Bith tentatively stepped forward. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey! What are you trying to do, buddy?” The Aqualish threatened the poor Bith. “Don’t try to cut in front of me.” <span style=""> </span>He certainly was cantankerous for having so many ‘buddies’. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Sir, if you are not going to order, I need to take the next person in line.”<br />”What do you mean? I’ve been waiting in line for an hour.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Then what would you like?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Just one moment. Can’t you see I’m on the phone? Now <b style=""><i style="">you</i></b> can wait for a moment…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’m sorry sir, I’ll need to help the next person if you…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey, I’ll call you back. I’ve got some teenage Muppet giving me lip.” He then closed the phone and looked right at me. “I want to see your manager.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sigh. Here we go again. Bif walked up. “What seems to be the trouble?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You’re little helper here doesn’t want to serve me.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But…he was on the phone…the other customers…” I tried to explain before the inevitable…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“J.J., don’t you know by now, the customer is always right. Give him a free brownie of his choice.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But you are rewarding his behavior!!!” I threw down my paper hat and jumped up on the counter so my voice could be heard. <span style=""> </span>“If you tell people who go to these kind of places that they have a right to do and say anything they want… that they can be as rude or obnoxious or as obtuse as they want to be and get away with it…that no matter what they do or say they are always right then you are just perpetuating the problem and creating a type of customer who is spoiled, indulgent, and unfeeling. We’re here to help the public but not at the expense of being someone’s doormat. We may serve you but we are people too and it’s high time we got a little respect!!!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">…okay….I didn’t really jump up and say all that.<span style=""> </span>…but I <i style="">thought</i> it…as I handed the smirking Aqualish his freakin’ brownie.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I also thought about taking my gun and blowing a hole through Mr. S’Naus Ages head. …that was kinda nice too.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">***<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ten minutes to go before closing. <span style=""> </span>My nerves were shot. “Next…” I called out hoarsely. The person in front of me waited then pointed down at his feet. I looked down.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/aotc2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/aotc2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Evening, J.J. A green riddle chunky monkey I would like.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Master Yoda. What a nice surprise. It’s good to see a friendly face here. You can’t believe what kind of week this has been”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Almost over, it is. Then rest you may. Very busy you are, so your time I will not waste. For me, just a brownie.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I wrapped up his brownie and gave it to him. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, also need twelve dozen more to go, I will. Late Jedi meeting tonight. To bring the snacks, my turn is.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I suddenly heard the crash of dishes hitting the floor in the kitchen. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Fresh and warm I hope they will be, too.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Followed by Qui-Gon’s loud screams.</p><br /><br />***<br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Two hours after we were suppose to be closed; Bif walked in and locked up the doors. “You guys did well today. This week has been great, don’t you think?”<br />”eh….yeah. Sure.” I replied without the will to live. “At least the week is finally over and we can get our spice permit.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Bif looked at us surprised? “Over? You still got the weekend. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“The…what…?” Qui asked. His eyes twitching something fierce.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Why, the weekend. That’s part of the week too, you know.<span style=""> </span>Oh, and you better get all pumped up. Weekends are busy. Really busy. Not like the weekdays.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But…..but……but……but….” I now understood I-SUC’s determination to end it all. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;">(Read the exciting weekend conclusion at the <a href="http://quigonthebuzzed.blogspot.com/">Lost in Spice blog</a> this Sunday.Hoo-Boy! It’s a doozy!!!)</span></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1143739473029424412006-03-30T09:14:00.000-08:002006-03-30T09:24:33.620-08:00Retail Hell: Days 3 and 4...Oh light above…when will it end? <p class="MsoNormal">The days are becoming a blur…that is if there actually is any daylight. Hard to tell in this mall. It is like a hive of consumers…buzzing…always buzzing.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s all the same. Everyday…is now the same…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Blah…blah…blah…blah…endless lines of freaky mall customers….<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/mall%20freaks.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/mall%20freaks.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Blah…blah….blah…angry customers….<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/mad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/mad.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Blah…blah…blah…stupid fat customers…<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/fat%20twilik.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/fat%20twilik.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Blah…blah…blah…problems with people cutting in line….<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/01.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/01.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Blah…blah…blah…treckies…<span style="font-size:78%;">damn..f***ing treckies….</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/trekkie.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/trekkie.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Blah…blah…blah…screaming wookiee babies…blah…blah…blah…impatient jerks….blah…blah…blah…and it just goes on…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I wish I could tell you more of what has happened…but it all has melted together into one big retail working piece of goo. I’m tired…so tired…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-Gon remembers <a href="http://quigonthebuzzed.blogspot.com/2006/03/retail-hell-heck-mall-sucks-pt-2.html"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">more</span></a>. More stuff you just wouldn't believe. He’s holding up for now, but I can see his eyes starting to twitch. That’s never a good sign. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">One more day…just one more day to go…</p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1143564460276898982006-03-28T08:41:00.000-08:002006-03-28T09:07:34.550-08:00Retail Hell: Day Two<p class="MsoNormal">Well, what do you know…It feels like I was just here. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ah yes, the familiar morning mall smell of burnt cinnibuns and stale crushed dreams. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think Qui-Gon was up the whole night baking. Sure, he’s a force ghost but I’m sure he needs to rest sometime. Me? I think I got four hours of sleep before I had to turn around and do it all again.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I knew this wasn’t gonna be a pretty day when I saw our evil boss, Bif S’Naus Ages at the counter waiting for me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Ah, there you are J.J.. You’re late two minutes, but don’t worry, I won’t dock you any pay…this time.” He said with a smile as if he were making a joke. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, you’re all heart, boss. Whatcha doing here this early?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">”I had to drop off the coupons before the doors opened.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Coupons? For what?” My hands began to sweat.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Why for the new flavors of Uncle Jinn & J.J.’s brownies, of course. We would have had them out for the public yesterday but the printers weren’t finished with these here coupons.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I forgot about all the new flavors Qui was making prior to our <a href="http://quigonthebuzzed.blogspot.com/2006/03/retail-hell-heck-mall-sucks-pt-1.html">first day</a>. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Bif continued. “Now these coupons are good for one free brownie if they buy any two of the new flavors. Ulp. Looks like the line is starting. Put on your aprons, I’ll open up the doors. Smiles everyone, smiles.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-Gon drifted out of the kitchen and gave me a tired nod. We then stood there behind the counter, bracing for the worst.</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">***</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey, I’m the first one!” Yelled an overly exuberant (for that time in the morning) child. “What do I get for free?” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“A swift kick in the pants?” I offered back. The mother gave me an indignant look and Mr. S’Naus Ages folded his arms and shook his head at me. “Eh…I mean….you get a free brownie bite, little cute girl…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t want one of those stale brownie bites. They’re from yesterday. I want a fresh brownie right out of the oven.” She stamped her feet down and gave me a petulant look that mirrored her mom’s. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey Qui,” I leaned over to whisper. “Ya got any fresh Yatta Wasabi brownies for the little tike?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-Gon’s eyes smoldered back to life and a smile crept into his face. “I think so, J.J.. I think so…"</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">***</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’ll take three Super Fudgy brownies; I got here this coupon for the third one free.”<br />”Uh….yes but is says the two you do buy have to be one of the four new flavors to get the third one free, sir.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well that shouldn’t matter, should it? They’re all brownies, right?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well yes, but…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“What’s the matter? I just want to use this coupon. Is there a problem?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“No sir. It’s just the coupon says you need to buy one of the four new…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t believe this. Can I speak to your supervisor?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Um….well he’s not in right now.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well then can I speak to someone in charge?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I guess that would be me.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well then, here’s my coupon…why don’t you give me my brownies and I’ll go.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh sir….it doesn’t work like that. You…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey! Would you just hurry it up, buddy?” Yelled a man from the line. “I’ve been waiting here for almost an hour.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, me too.” Piped in another. “Just give him his brownies. What are you? A moron? It’s not that difficult a job.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My eyes started to twitch uncontrollably as I handed the smug customer in front of me his brownies. I think Qui-Gon had to restrain my hands from lashing out…but I don’t remember much after that.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">***</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Lunch time. Qui and I wandered off to the closest food court where we had a meager meal of Toxic Bell while Mr. S’Naus Ages surprisingly covered for us. We ate in silence. Or almost silence. The Mall music echoed throughout with the dulcet sounds of Barry Mon Calamari and Helen Reddy Whiphid. It was enough to almost make me lose my lunch…literally. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we returned, the place was a shambles. Gift sets and boxes were tossed on the floor, napkins were all strewn about, the back counter was like a war zone and there was Mr. S’Naus Ages grinning away like an idiot. “Ah, good. You two are back from your lunch. Well, I got to go. You can take over now.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“What happened to the place?” I asked.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He looked around then looked at me. “Oh yeah, well it was busy. Clean this place up before you go.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Where’s I-SUC?<span style=""> </span>Isn’t he supposed to be cleaning?” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh yes. He is. He’s in the back room right now cleaning the kitchen. There was a small accident with the batter bowl. I’m sure you guys can take care of it.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He then walked out like there was nothing wrong. I looked at the store in amazement. “We were only gone twenty minutes…”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">***</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Excuse me…this brownie is bad. I wan’t another one.” Some old sour faced woman stated. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Of course. Do you have a receipt?” Surprisingly she did.<span style=""> </span>….from yesterday. She then handed me the brownie wrapper void of any brownie except a few crumbs. “Um…First off, this was from yesterday and second….you ate it all.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well I was hungry.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So it was good enough to eat.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh no. It was so stale it hurt my jaws. And it tasted like soap. I want another one.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But you ate it….” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But it was bad.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But…..you…..ATE….it…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And so it went. For eight hours straight until Qui-Gon gave me the bad news. “Uh dude, I think we’re out of Super Fudgy flavor.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">”What!?! That’s our most popular flavor!!! And we still got another hour to go. And look at that damn line!!! I swear we’re gonna be here for another two hours after we close the doors.” But word started to leak out that we were running out of our most popular flavors and customers in line began to push and shove their way inside, desperate to grab their brownies before we ran out. Arguments broke out and fists almost started to fly. It was getting bad until…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Look! The Mall Troopers!” Qui-Gon pointed at a band swaggering armored men.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Mall%20troopers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Mall%20troopers.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Yes, it was the Mall Troopers. Not quite Clone Troopers, the Mall Troopers had fake plastic guns and almost no real authority beyond the walls of the mall, but they did break up the crowd well. In fact so well, it looked like we were going to get out of here on time. My eyes started to beam a little brighter at the prospect. When we closed the doors exactly at closing, I was smiling from ear to ear. That was, until the Mall Troopers looked at us with hunger in their eyes. “Okay, we got the crowd away for ya, now…can ya fix us up with some brownies?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But…it’s closing time….” I stammered.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You want us to come back tomorrow and break up the crowd before closing again, don’t ya?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I looked at the two dozen Mall Troopers in the store and my heart sank. Slowly I put back on my apron and steadied myself by the cash register. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Eh…..what will it be….sir….”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I’d like three Super Fudgy brownies. Oh, and I got a coupon.” </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1143484609225828602006-03-27T10:21:00.000-08:002006-03-27T10:38:18.046-08:00Retail Hell: Day One<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/brownie%20shop.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/400/brownie%20shop.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Okay. So this can’t be too bad. Qui-Gon and myself have to man the new Uncle Jinn & J.J. Olde Brownie Shoppe in the Coruscant Mall for a whole week to get our permanent spice permit. No problem, right? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">First off, I forgot how huge that freakin’ mall is. Fourteen levels, six food courts, and a few thousand shops all crammed together. Not only that but we couldn’t even park anywhere nearby. Those spots were for “paying customers” as we were told so we have to hike five miles just to get inside.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once we saw our little shop we noticed it just happened to be right across the way from a Veers having a huge sale. Spiffy.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/veers.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/veers.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not like we needed extra customers. It seems word leaked out that our brownies were going to be made available to the public once again but only at this one location to start with. Needless to say, our loyal fan base was out in droves. Before we even opened our doors the line snaked through the mall all the way to the Alderaan Eagle and the Max Rebo Shack. It was gonna be a long day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But Qui and I put on our smocks and our best game faces and prepared to meet our wonderful, adoring public. I took on the register and greeting duties while Qui, who worked tirelessly through the night baking our goodies, was now behind the counter packaging up the orders as they came. Even I-SUC helped out cleaning up the place.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">* * *</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So what flavors do you have?” A Twi’lik woman asked. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Our regular Super Fudgy or Green Riddle Chunky-Monkey.” I answered back.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh….What’s the difference?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“One has nuts, the other doesn’t.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh….hmmm….well….I wonder which one I should get.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Why don’t you get both?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, I can’t afford both. Hmmm….Do you have any with caramel in them?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…no. Just with and without nuts.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“How about with marshmallows?” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“No. Just those two.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Mint?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“NO. Just those two right there in your hand. Now which one do you want, lady?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The woman stood there in line for over twenty minutes sighing and muttering to herself. I mean, come on! It’s only two different flavors. Grow a spine and make a decision! She was about to take the Green Riddle Chunky Monkey when she muttered something about wishing we had some caramel fudge brownies when Qui-Gon chimed in. “Oh you know that Corellia Caramel shop two level up might have something like that.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh you think?” She beamed, and then she was gone, and so were those twenty minutes of my life – never to come back again.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">* * *</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was like that all day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey buddy,” a man yelled at me from out of line. “How much are these brownie gift boxes over here?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">”What does the price tag say?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Eh…twenty credits.” He then stood there waiting for me to answer.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">* * *</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Or…”I’ll have three Super Fudgys, one Green Riddle Chunky Monkey and two orange sodas.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Um…we don’t serve any drinks here. Just brownies?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“What? But we’re thirsty.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“There’s a water fountain just around the corner or a food court just above us on the next level.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He then folded his arms and looked squarely at me. “Well then, hurry up and get me two orange sodas from upstairs.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“That’s…not our job, sir.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hey, I’m a paying customer here, and the customer is always right. Now why don’t you just run along and get me those sodas.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was about run his ass out of here when our boss, Inspector Bif S’Naus Ages, sauntered in. “What seems to be the trouble here?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“This gentleman wants me to go up to the food court and grab him two sodas. I told him n-…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Of course we can, sir. Anything for the customer. J.J., run up there and get him what he wants. Be quick about it.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My fists balled up…my toes balled up. My gut balled up. I couldn’t believe it. But there I was, pushing my way past the crowd to get this jerk his freaking soda, all the while I wanted to stuff those damn hair knobs down Bif’s throat. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And that was just the beginning. It seems when I returned, ol Inspector Bif thought is would be a good idea to hand out tiny brownie samples…to boost the sales.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/brownie%20bites.1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/brownie%20bites.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When word spread of the free samples, half the mall was waiting outside our door. And they were getting ugly too. Shouts of hurry up in there, ya bums, and other disparaging remarks echoed just outside. Some waited so long that they, of course, took it out on us when they got up to order.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I think you should let us have some brownies for free for the amount of time we wasted waiting in your line.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You can have a free sample.” I offered.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He took a handful and stuffed it in his mouth. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…Qui….we need another sample plate.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Poor Qui was like a whirling dervish, running back and forth filling orders in-between making new batches to keep up with demand.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">* * *</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And another… “That will be 18.65.” I told a customer.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But I only bought fifteen credits worth.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“uh…there’s tax too.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well…I’m from Bespin. We don’t have tax there.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“That’s nice. We do on Coruscant. That will be 18.65.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well I don’t think I should have to pay it…” and so it went. The day was a blur. I vaguely remember our two five minute breaks and half hour lunch. Me and Qui sat huddled quietly together, our eyes glazed and our hands shook as we ate our stale McDooku burgers. This was harder than I thought. And this was just the first day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">By the time the mall closed we still had two dozen people waiting in line. Even though the clock said we were closed we still had to serve them before we could leave. It wasn’t until forty five minutes after we officially “closed” that I got the last customer of the day. Some old lady from Ord Mantell. All she got was one Super Fudgy brownie. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“That will be 1.75.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">She then took out her change purse and dumped it on the counter and started counting out coins. “Let’s see….five…ten….twenty…twenty-five…fifty…oh wait. That’s one of those new twenty-five cent coins. I can’t give you that. I collect those.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Of course you do…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Now where was I? Five….ten….twenty….thirty seven…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…that’s a Geonosis seventeen cent piece. We don’t take those here…unfortunately.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh…okay then.<span style=""> </span>Five… fifteen….twenty….thirty….thirty-five…forty….forty-five…oh my….that’s the same age as my grandson. Did you know that?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I do now. Um…look can I help you with that.”<br />”No, I can do it. I ain’t dead yet, young man. Let’s see…..five….ten……twenty….”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“It’s just that…we’ve been closed for almost an hour and I really do want to go home.”<br />”I’m going as fast as I can, young man. Oh…now you made me forget where I was….<i style="">sigh</i>…five….ten…..twenty…..twenty-five….twenty-six…twenty-seven…oh…you do take pennies, don’t you?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“……I…….I…….I’m afraid….we do….”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“That’s nice….they’re still good money, you know.<span style=""> </span>Five……ten……fifteen….twenty-five…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Forty five minutes later… “One dollar seventy-three…One dollar seventy-four….one dollar seventy-five. There you go.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I scooped up the change and dumped it in the register. “Thank you come again,” I said in a weak voice ready to crack.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Aren’t you going to count it?” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“……………….SCRAM!!!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally. The doors were locked. Our ten hour day of hell was at an end. All I wanted to do was go home and get in the Jacuzzi with a cigar in one hand and a stiff drink in the other. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just as we were walking out the door, Inspecter S’Naus Ages came up to us. “Well, we did a great first day, didn’t we?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“oh…yes <i style="">WE</i> did.” I spoke back, never once meeting his eye.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…where are you two going?” he asked perplexed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Home. Goodnight.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But you still have to count out the register and write up the receipts and deposits and Master Jinn, we need to bake some more brownies. Our supply is almost all gone and we’re expecting twice as many customers tomorrow. I put out a full page add in the Coruscant Chronicle. Now come along you two. A little extra work never hurt anyone.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With a heavy sign that sounded more like a whimper, we turned around and re-entered our prison. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This was gonna be a loooooong week. </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1143220509047989382006-03-24T09:07:00.000-08:002006-03-24T09:15:09.246-08:00The 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.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Bif%20S%27Naus%20Ages.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Bif%20S%27Naus%20Ages.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">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? <span style=""> </span>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. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Okay, bub. What do we haveta do?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“First off, you must go thorough a few tests. I’ll only need one of you to complete these tests.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Excellent. It’s an eye exam and IQ test all rolled into one. My colleague, Inspector Bif Wellingt’n will administer it.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He then walked in.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Bif%20Wellingt%27n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Bif%20Wellingt%27n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“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.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He handed me the paper and I read it…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">EYE</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">HAM</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">WE</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">TODD</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">DID.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">EYE </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">HAM </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">SOFA</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">KING</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">WE</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">TODD</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">DID.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The room burst out in laughter. “Ah, that was splendid. Splendid indeed.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t get it,” I told him. “What does that have to do with getting a spice permit?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“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…”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Bif%20Shank.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Bif%20Shank.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“…And Inspector Bif Jurk’ee. They will test your reflexes.”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Bif%20Jurk%27ee.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Bif%20Jurk%27ee.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Hold your hand here…” Inspector Bif Shank placed my hand below my chin. Suddenly Inspector Bif Jurk’ee smacked me with a plucked chicken.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Aaaaagh!” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Good, good, but we want more of a ‘Waaaahhg’ sound.” Inspector Shank clarified. <span style=""> </span>“Now put your hand here.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“What?” The chicken again… “Waaaahhg!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh better, better.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“That was great!” Inspector Bif Wellingt’n wrote something on his clip board. “High scores indeed.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I still don’t see what this…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“And now we must bring in Inspector Bif Spam Spam Spam “Spam” and Bif.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The final inspector came through the door with a fist full of grapes and a crazed look.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Bif%20Spam%20Spam%20Spam%20Spam%20and%20Bif.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Bif%20Spam%20Spam%20Spam%20Spam%20and%20Bif.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Look out Mr. Juice!!!” Warned Bif Jurk’ee, “He’s coming at you with fresh fruit!!!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well…that was quick thinking, Mr. Juice. Bloody good idea about that tiger and all.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But…I don’t own a tiger…I don’t know where that came from…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This was getting all too silly for me. My mind couldn’t take it. “That’s it!!!! Who are you guys really???”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">They all looked at me <span style="font-size:85%;">(except for the one being eaten by the tiger, of course)</span> 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.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“And did I pass already?” I asked fuming.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">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.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well that doesn’t sound too bad…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“…in THE MALL!!!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“NNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”</span> I heard Qui-Gon yell behind me. I quickly turned to him. “Don’t worry, Qui ol buddy. We can do this. We <span style="font-style: italic;">have </span>to do this.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I…I know, man. It’s just…have you ever been to the Coruscant Mall before? It’s evil, man. Pure evil!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yes, well I’m sorry but if you want a new spice permit,” Inspector Bif (whoever) said, “You <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">WILL </span>have to do this final test.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, Yeah…I get the picture. We’ll do it. Jeezz!!! I didn’t expect a Spanish inquisition!!”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/spanish_inq.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/spanish_inq.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">“NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISI- <span style="font-size:78%;">oh damn. The post is over.”</span></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1143042327463905772006-03-22T07:28:00.000-08:002006-03-24T09:07:15.376-08:00Recap --Just Add Plot Thickener“Okay…backup…tell me again why our brownie empire is now defunct?”<br /><p class="MsoNormal">I lit up a new cigar and began to pace in front of the fireplace. Qui-Gon shimmered in the doorway, glancing ever so often at my unopened can of soda. What the hell’s gotten into him? Count ‘lizard-boy’ Dooku continued to sit in his chair with that dumb expression on his face.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Um, you see, “Qui-Gon began, “It seems someone called the cops on us when Dooku and I were…uh…eating some brownies and all. Everything would have been fine except the spice permit you keep in your office was missing…so we were taken to jail for a few weeks. …a few very long…long…weeks.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Missing? Who took it?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“It seems,” Dooku interjected, “that it was your ex-wife Rhonda who took the permit thinking it was the only one, and then called the cops on us.”</p><p class="MsoNormal">”Rhonda. …damn that Ithorian. She was always two faced…eh…two mouthed that is. Where is she now?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, don’t worry, my boy. She’s taken care of. It seems she had an accident once we got out of prison. A bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“It was like…they found her dead in her apartment in a pool of vomit, man. Um…although it wasn’t her vomit, come to think of it.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I shook the image from my brain. “Okay, so back track a bit. Why didn’t you guys send word or come and get me at the Big Brother House? I always keep a spare permit on me at all times.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yeah, I know. But I was stuck in one of those…those...dark…dark boxes….and could only tap out Morse code and all. <span style=""> </span>But we did finally get some help, man. We sent the best we could while in jail. We sent the F.O.O.F. men, Frick and Frack.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My jaw dropped. My cigar fell from my mouth but Dooku snatched it up with his claw with better reflexes than I would have guessed a Sleestak had. “You’re kidding. Those two?” They couldn’t <span style="font-size:78%;">(insert joke of choice here)</span> with both hands!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, but it was okay, J.J. They got into the Big Brother house and got your copy of the spice permit.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“They did?” I hastily reached into my robe’s hidden pocket where I always keep my important documents: blackmail photos, secret bank account numbers, Twil’lik phone numbers, an emergency brownie…but he was right. No spare spice permit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So the F.O.O.F.er pulled through and brought you my spare, right?”</p><p class="MsoNormal">Qui and Dooku glanced uncomfortably at each other. “Well you see, ol chap, they….how should I put this…they burnt it.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“What!?!?” My jaw dropped again. Dooku caught my cigar again. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“But like the ghost of Jo Jo got us out of that dark… dark…oh so dark…prison box….<span style="font-style: italic;">*shudder*</span> and we’re now all home safe and sound.” He gave me a half hearted smile.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh yeah, everything is dandy. Lizard lips here is permanently stuck as a Sleestak. You can’t go five minutes without opening something up, and our production of brownies has come to a crashing halt until we can get another spice permit. Do I have it right?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui-Gon thought about it for a moment then nodded vigorously. “Yup, that should just about catch up the readers of the events of the past month. But everything is fine now. Now that you’re back from Big Brother, we can go downtown together and apply for a new permit. I already made a few calls.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It sounded reasonable enough. I took a drag off my cigar, cringed at the sleestak taste it somehow acquired, and began to pace some more. Something wasn’t right. Something still nagged at me in the back of my head. Something about new spice permit laws just recently enacted. Now what were they?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then in mid stride, the doorbell rang. I diverted my pacing towards the front door and answered it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah? What do you want? It’s late”</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Bif%20S%27Naus%20Ages.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/Bif%20S%27Naus%20Ages.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/ister_paddie.jpg"><br /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello. My name is Inspector Bif <span style=""> </span>S’Naus Ages<span style=""> </span>I am from the Ministry of Spice I am here personally to talk to you about your new spice permit. It seems you have a bit of a problem.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh course. What else is new?</p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1142869128483599702006-03-20T07:38:00.000-08:002006-03-21T08:08:39.396-08:00Honey...I'm Home!Ahh…it’s good to be home. Look at this place…Who would want to live here? I mean, come on…a two story penthouse located at the center of the Coruscant capital and merchandizing hub, with a huge game room, home theater, patio with hot tub…don’t take my word for it. You can see the whole floor plan <a href="http://jawajuicejumpup.blogspot.com/2005/10/penthouse-that-brownies-built.html">here</a>. <p class="MsoNormal">What I guess I’m trying to say is, is that I think I’ve been traveling too much. What with hosting the Survivor show, participating in the Big Brother:Naboo show. I think it’s time to have a little down time.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Our%20Pad.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Our%20Pad.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ahh…what a view. Qui’s lava lamps bubble and glow like my bowels after eating <span style="font-style: italic;">Mustafarian Moost-Mex</span>, the faint odor of incense could be detected wafting throughout the room. All was at peace. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Next to the fireplace I spied a robed figure sitting close by with his feet up sipping a cup of what looked to be tea. Even in his smoking jacket, Count Dooku still demanded to keep his top hat on his head. Hmm…I forgot he was still a guest at our house.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well Dooku, I’m finally back. I bet you weren’t expecting me to….<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">HOLY CRAP!!!!!</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Sleestak%20Dooku.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Sleestak%20Dooku.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Well good evening, dear boy. Would you like a spot of tea?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I…uh…no….that is…What happened to you?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dooku looked down at his green, three pronged hands and sighed before answering. “Oh yes…this. It seems I’ve put myself in a bit of a pickle…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As if on Queue, we lifted our ears in silence neither one of us daring to move.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Did you hear it?” Dooku whispered.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Yeah, I think I did. Jedi temple’s that way, right?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I believe so. Thirty miles away…that’s a new record.” He gave a chuckle and took a sip of his tea before continuing. “Now as for me, it seems I lost a fight with this Starbucker chap in a magic-off and now I am reduced to being a Sleestak. Rather disturbing, actually, since I don’t have anything that goes with moss green skin. I’ve sent for a doctor. She should be around in the morning to take a look at me.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just then, my I-SUC droid wheeled himself inside with my luggage. Dooku took one look at the droid and said, “Oh my. I see you’ve acquired an Internal Salvaging and Undermining Citrus droid. How quaint.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Uh…yeah. I-SUC, take those bags into my room.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >“Yes sir.”</span> He responded in his low, monotone voice. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;" >“Oh, and sir…I’ve been meaning to ask you…What exactly is a side-kick?”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Dooku and I coughed uncomfortably before I even ventured to answer. “Why do you ask, SUC-man?”</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:courier new;">“Oh, just something Jon said back at the Big Brother house. He told me I was your side kick…then started to laugh hysterically. I don’t understand.”</span> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“eh…well…It must be that gladiator humor. I don’t quite understand it either. Is Qui around?” I asked Dooku.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I believe he’s in the kitchen trying to make a sandwich.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I hopped down the hallway towards the kitchen. I couldn’t wait to see by buddy Qui-Gon. Of all the people in the galaxy, he is the only one I can truly call my best friend. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him. First there was that month long sabbatical in the ether, then I get whisked away for that reality game show for another two months. I wonder how he’s doing? I wonder what he’s been up to for the past few months. I wonder…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I enter the kitchen and see him standing there pondering over jar of mayonnaise. I look around the kitchen and notice that all the cupboard doors are flung open as well at the oven door and refrigerator. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“QUI!!! I’m back! How are you, you ol force ghost, you? Eh….you lose something?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He looked up kinda distracted like and gave me a glazed stare. “Uh…no man. Why do you ask?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Oh… no reason, I guess.” Glancing at the cupboards once more, I gave his poncho a big hug. “So what’s been going on since I’ve been gone?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Qui continued to ponder the jar of Mayonnaise like it was going to suddenly strike at him. He began to bite his nails and nervously mutter something. This wasn’t good.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/worry.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/worry.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span style=""> </span>“Eh…Qui…what’s up. You okay man?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He suddenly reached for the jar and opened the lid with one furious motion before upending it and shaking the entire glob of mayonnaise out. With a deep breath, he set the jar down and allowed himself to relax.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I, on the other hand, began to feel rather uneasy. “Um…like a lot of mayonnaise on your sandwich, do ya?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He turned to me with a flat stare. “Oh no, man. Can’t stand the stuff. I’m a mustard man.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I glanced over to the one of the open cupboards where I saw a 24 pack of mayonnaise on the shelf and sighed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Dude, maybe you should come into the living room and sit down for a while…have a brownie or two.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“I can’t. We’re all out.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“So whip up a fresh batch.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“um…we can’t. We can’t make anymore.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“What do you mean? That’s our business.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">“Um…not anymore, man. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">We’re shut down</span>. Didn’t you read the paper two posts ago?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He then handed me the paper. This was more serious than I thought! </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1142618921439062142006-03-17T10:08:00.000-08:002006-03-17T10:08:41.926-08:00Heading Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Jawa%20Airlines.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Jawa%20Airlines.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I will be so glad to finally get home. <span style=""> </span>It seems like it’s taking forever! It doesn’t help that I decided to fly Jawa Express Airlines, either. Man, I forgot just what a load they are. The ship may be big, but because it caters to jawas, the seats are tiny and cramped, everything smells like old droid oil and I swear the right engine looks like its about to fall off.<div> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">To make matters worse, we had a twelve hour delay at our stop at Dantooine.<span style=""> </span>I guess the pilot thought it was Tatooine and decided to knock off early.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Even though it was cheap, it’s just taking too damn long. And look at this crap…<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/no%20smoking.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/no%20smoking.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">What else are jawas supposed to do?</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">And the meal? Some old Sarlacc sandwich with week old scurrier and dip.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/AirplaneFood-thumb.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/AirplaneFood-thumb.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">Not again. I can’t wait to get home and see Qui-Gon and have some real food.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal">At least the in flight movie was good…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/jawas.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/jawas.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><o:p></o:p></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1142444521383560722006-03-15T09:30:00.000-08:002006-03-15T09:48:58.436-08:00EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!!!<a style="font-family: courier new;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/FRONT%20PAGE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/FRONT%20PAGE.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;" >The halt of production to Uncle Jinn and J.J.’s Homemade, Super Fudgy, Special Spiced Brownies has caused turmoil throughout the known systems. Reports of millions of loyal and addicted customers who have been satiated by an abundant supply of the chocolaty yummy and some-what mind altering snack have now been forced to face the horrible reality of a brownie shortage. Ever since the alleged incarceration of Qui-Gon Jinn and Count Dooku for baking and consuming “spice” brownies without a permit, they have been forced to shut down their brownie production. As a result, their tasty treats have become rarer than a good script by George Lucas.</span><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/zombies_01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/zombies_01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style=";font-size:100%;" >Now hundreds of thousands of beings all across the galaxy have been taking to the streets, clamoring for the last vestiges of brownies that could be found.</span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal" ><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal" ><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal" ><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal" ><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal" face="courier new"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal" face="courier new"><span style="font-size:100%;">When asked by co-owner and dead Jedi Knight, Qui-Gon Jinn, when production would resume he responded, “Umm…like yeah. We want to get back to baking them again but like we seemed to have misplaced our permit for spice. And both J.J. and I have to be present to do that. And…well…He ain’t back from Naboo just yet. I hope he didn’t stop off on planet Melov-U-Longtime.”</span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal" face="courier new"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal" face="courier new"><span style="font-size:100%;">Reports of price gouging are rampant. Recently, a brownie package went on E-Bay for the ridiculous price of 300,000 credits. It was sold within minutes.</span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal" face="courier new"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal" face="courier new"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/fluke%20and%20han.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/fluke%20and%20han.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Other reports of looting are almost as common. Just two days ago, a young hooligan broke into one of Uncle Jinn and J.J.’s storage warehouses in the vain hopes that some brownies were left behind. He was discovered in a corner licking some stale crumbs and muttering “Oh my beloved brownie…how I love to taste your chocolaty center…” He was quickly escorted out by security as seen here.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: courier new;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: courier new;"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><br /><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">When it was discovered that the </span><span style="font-size:100%;">person</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">taken into incarceration was</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> a Fluke Starbucker, reporters were sent to his ship to interview the young jedi <i style="">wannabes’</i> second in command, Mr. Sprok. Unfortunately the lack of spiced brownies in his system had made him go on a five day rampage against puppets and was unavailable to comment.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/spock_chokes_billy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/spock_chokes_billy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;font-family:courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/lars%20family%20nazi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/lars%20family%20nazi.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Reports of brownie hording can be found as far away as the planet of Tatooine where a family of moisture farmers and part time leaders of the local Hitler youth group, the Lars family, were reported to have horded two dozen batches of the brownies. They told reporters they were willing to sell them for more comments on their blog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: courier new;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">With systems in rising turmoil, we asked the Jedi temple what their plans were to bring about peace in the galaxy once more. Jedi Master Yoda was unavailable to comment directly with us but did offer up a finger salute, signifying the Jedi’s are still ‘number one’.</span></p><br /><p style="font-family: courier new;" face="courier new" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/windu%20flare.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/windu%20flare.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Master Windu was also unavailable to comment. Sources say he was busy polishing his head as confirmed by this photograph. Unfortunately, the photographer is now permanently blinded when his camera flash bounced off the jedi’s cranium.</span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/hayden_interview.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/hayden_interview.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">There was one Jedi who was available for comment. Anakin Skywalker, seen here giving an interview to whoever would listen to him said that the jedi’s would look into this brownie matter as soon as possible. “Yo, check it. As soon as my speeder is all pinped out and spit, I’m on it. What? Of course I’m gonna be leading this mission. I’m the Chosen One, ain’t I?” He then started signing off for our cameras while singing <i style="">‘It’s hard out here for a pimp’.</i></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/representing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/representing.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: courier new;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">With no end in sight to the brownie shortage, people are advised to stay at home, lock their doors and eat a Snickers bar injected with liquid crack until this disaster has been cleared up and production of the brownies can resume.</span> </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1142203024059025412006-03-12T14:03:00.000-08:002006-03-13T07:21:21.843-08:00Monday's with Dooku: The Great Magic-Off!!Hello and welcome to Coruscant’s first annual Magic Off!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/bill%20bixby.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/bill%20bixby.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I’m your host, Dill Dixby who will be calling the action packed shots…eh…shot by shot. But first. Let’s say hello to our panel of three magical judges who will be grading our contestants on style, aptitude, and originality. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let’s give a warm welcome to…Mr. Harry Potter- Student extraordinaire from Hogwarts School of Magic.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/harry%20potter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/harry%20potter.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Mr. Gandalf the Gray of the ancient order of Istari, lesser Maiar and all around grumpy old man.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/gandalf.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/gandalf.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And finally….um…is this right? Oh…okay. And our third judge….Magic Johnson, who I can only guess we got because his first name is Magic.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/magic-johnson.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/magic-johnson.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Now let’s bring out our contestants. Our challenger for today is that Sith lord of fast food, The Count of Dooku!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/waving.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/200/waving.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And our defender is that founder of the new jedi order <span style="font-style: italic;">wannabe</span>…the great Flukeizmo!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/enter%20fluke.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/enter%20fluke.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Okay, you both know the drill. You each have two minutes to complete each of the three challenges that will be presented to you. Afterwards, our judges will score your endeavors on a scale of 1 to 10 with ten being the best. The person who scores the most at the end of the contest wins the title of super tremendous, brilliantly wonderful, splendidly excellent, superbly terrific magical person of the year and gets this cheap plastic award. Are you ready? Great. Let’s start…the Magic-Off!!!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;">(dun-dun-DUNNN!!!)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Your first challenge to both of you is to test your skills of dexterity and slight of eye. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Fist up…Dooku. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And it looks like he’s going for the classic “pulling something out of his hat” routine. Not too original but a crowd favorite. Yes…he’s taking off his top hat and making a display of rolling up his sleeves. He’s reaching in. Is it a bunny? Is it a…? No! It’s a <span style="font-weight: bold;">rancor</span>!!! Oh well done. That will have the judges sitting up and taking notice.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/Rancor%20trick.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/Rancor%20trick.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Let’s go to the judges. Herry Potter…how did you score this?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Well, it’s not as exciting as say a troll or a dragon or any of the other creatures I had to battle all by my self…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yes yes, whatever kid. What’d you score him?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">I gave him a 7.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And you Gandalf the grumpus…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">G.t.G.: </span><span style="font-style: italic;">That’s gray, you FOOL! In any case, I gave him an 8.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Very good, very good. And now Magic Johnson. How did you score our Count Dooku?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">M.J.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Why, that was a slam dunk, man! I gave him a 10</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Alright. Well, that gives you a score of 25 so far, Mr. Dooku.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now it’s Flukizmos turn. As you know he’s quite good at slight of hand as you can see from this old clip of ours where he dazzled us with a card trick. I wonder what he will do tonight?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s got his hands out…he’s got one finger up… and he….<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/finger1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/finger1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Transfers the one finger to the other hand…just like that!!!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/finger2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/finger2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/tada.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/tada.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">And what did the judges score? Mr. Potter?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Well, my friend Ron attempted something quite similar in his first year at Hogwarts where…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yeah, we get the picture. What’s your score kid?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">I gave him…a 5.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Alright, and now Mr. Gandalf. What did you give our fine Fluky friend?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">G.t.G.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">It was a rather preposterous display. I’ve seen better finger manipulation from a Uruk-Hai prostitute. I gave him a 3.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ooo. Tough scores. Magic…what did you give him?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">M.J.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Man! That was a slam dunk. I have him a 10!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Well… all right then. That gives Flukizmo a score of 18. He’s going to have to work hard to catch up now, though.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now for the second challenge. This challenge will test our contestants on their ability to make something…disappear. Once again, the challenger Count Dooku will begin.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It looks like the count is selecting someone from the audience. …A rather pretty girl from the audience. And it looks like…it looks like…he’s giving her his phone number. And she’s blushing…but she’s nodding her head yes. Oh that’s a good sign. She’s now returning to the audience and it looks like Count Dooku is ready to start the challenge.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s taking off his cape…and he’s covering the huge rancor’s head with it. I’m not sure how he’s going to make the rancor disappear when we can still see the rest of his body…but wait. He’s doing something with his hands….and…he’s…tossing the cape aside. <span style="font-weight: bold;">OHMYGOD!!!</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">OHMYGOD!!! </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Rancor’s head is gone!!!</span> Now the rancor’s body has collapsed to the ground! Blood from its savored arteries is gushing everywhere. But this holiday bank crowd is going wild. They really enjoyed that one. Let’s hear what the judges have to say…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Splendidly exiting. I wish I had thought of that when I enrolled in the triwizard tournament, I would have…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Look kid, no one cares. What’s your score?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">I gave him a 9</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And now Gandalf?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">G.t.G<span style="font-style: italic;">.:</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"> Finally a bit of talent. Unfortunately I got blood on my hat so I gave him a 7.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And Mr. Johnson?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">M.J.: </span><span style="font-style: italic;">That was a three point shot if I ever saw one. So I gave him a 10 points.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And that brings Count Dooku’s score up to 51. Flukizmo is really going to have to impress the judges this time.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So next up…Flukizmo. And it looks like he’s ready for the challenge. He’s putting on a bandana…no, wait…it’s a napkin. And now a tray with a huge plate of what looks like spaghetti and meatballs is being wheeled out. The great Flukizmo is sitting down at a table and…yes! He is digging in to the meal with a ravenous apatite. Look at him go! I’ve never seen someone make a meal disappear so quickly. And….he’s finished with 35 seconds to spare!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/tada%20pasta.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/tada%20pasta.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Judges?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">It would have been better if he was eating Bertie Bott’s every flavor jelly beans but…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Look. One more silly reference to your life and I’ll have Dooku rip off <b style=""><i style="">your</i></b> head, got it? Now what’s your score?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>ulp…um…7</span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">…Gandalf?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">GtG:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Rather pathetic, actually, when compared to the skill of hobbits. I gave him a 4</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Magic?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">M.J.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">That was just another slam dunk. I gave him a 10!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">……………..you have no idea what you’re doing here, do you Mr. Johnson?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">M.J.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Not in the slightest.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With the scores Dooku 51 and Flukizmo 36, we now come up to our final challenge. In this challenge contestants must transform something into something else. No slight of hand or illusion here, they must actually physically alter the existence of one object into another. Are you ready, Count Dooku?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Count is nodding his head but he looks a bit stunned. I think he may have met his match here. Wait…he’s turning around…he’s hiding his face…and now…he’s turning back and….he’s changed <span style="font-style: italic;">himself</span>! Look at that!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20w%20mask.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20w%20mask.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">No wait. The judges aren’t buying it. Harry Potter?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Why, that’s just a mask. Zero points.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">G.t.G.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Hardly worth the effort of turning around. Simply appalling! Zero points!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">M.J.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Wow! How’d he do that? 10 points.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now it’s Fluke’s turn. He only needs 26 points to win. Can he do it? Flukizmo is pacing the floor. He’s starting to sweat….time is running out. Wait. It looks like he’s stepping over to Harry Potter…and he’s asking the kid for his wand…now he’s physically threatening him….AND IT WORKED! He’s giving Flukizmo his wand. Very irregular move but since this is a no-holds-bared contest, a perfectly legal move. He’s now walking over to the masked Dooku and tapping his head with the wand.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And times up! I don’t know what the great Flukizmo was trying to accomplish but is seems like nothing happened. This looks bad. The judges are discussed with him…but WAIT!! Count Dooku is taking off that ridiculous mask…and his face…IT’S BEEN CHANGED. HE’S CHANGED DOOKU INTO…<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">A SLEESTAK!!</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/dooku%20sleestak.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/dooku%20sleestak.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">AND THE CROWD IS GOING WILD! AND LOOK AT THE JUDGES SCORES!!!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">H.P.:</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">10</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">G.t.G.: </span><span style="font-style: italic;">10</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">M.J.: </span><span style="font-style: italic;">10</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And that does it!!! Flukizmo wins with a score of 66 to 61. Simply amazing!!!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, that’s if for tonight. The great Flukizmo will go home with this tacky trophy while I suspect Count Dooku will go home and play with pylons…or what ever sleestak do. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is Dill Dixby saying goodnight and happy conjuring.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/tada%20trophy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/tada%20trophy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">(and look for J.J. to be returning to his own blog later this week.)</span><br /></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1141665751170156952006-03-06T09:19:00.000-08:002006-03-06T09:22:31.823-08:00Mondays with Dooku: A Magical Challenge!It has come to my attention that when I listed possible Jedi to go after once my incarceration came to an end that I neglected to add one Fluke Starbucker. <p class="MsoNormal">This Founder of the New Order Jedi <i style="">Wannabe</i> is nothing more than a pretender to the FOTNOJW throne. Up until very recently, the only thing this chap did was tightened and loosened bolts on moisture vaporators for no apparent reason that I can discern. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Although I have discovered we do share a similar interest – a secret power if you will. No, I don’t condone the use of the Spores to make people dance. I’m talking about…magic.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It seems Fluke’s magical alter ego is none other that the Great Flukizmo! As it turns out, magical tricks are also my specialty. That is, before I changed vocation to leading the separatists to war while secretly being in league with Darth Sidious, but how long can that last? After all, it’s not like I’m offered a 401k or stock options in that line of work.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Besides, I have a nifty cloak tailor made for just such an occasion.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/christopher-lee%20cape.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/christopher-lee%20cape.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">So although I could go after some of the other jedi in an evil smiting fit, I think this time I will send forth a challenge to young Starbucker! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I call forth you, Fluke Starbucker, for a no-holds-bared MAGIC-OFF!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/christopher_lee.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/christopher_lee.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">If the young Flukizmo is man enough to step up to the dais, we shall begin next week in a three part challenge to determine who is the best prestidigitator of the galaxy. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">And may the best man win. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Cheerio! <o:p></o:p></p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13721662.post-1141058390917181762006-02-27T08:36:00.000-08:002006-02-27T08:39:51.543-08:00Mondays with Dooku: ReflectionsOh my, does it ever feel good to be free. That’s correct. Due to the remarkable legal abilities of Jo Jo, our barrister, we have managed to prove our innocence and escape that hell hole of a prison once and for all. Who knew dead monkeyboys were so well versed in the law? <p class="MsoNormal">But you need not listen to my prattlings, all can be read about it <a href="http://quigonthebuzzed.blogspot.com/2006/02/c-cybertainment-holovision-trial-of.html">here</a>, and quite well done too, if I may say so.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And after finishing up some…eh …loose ends, shall we say, Qui Gon and I are back at his fine penthouse domicile once more. All though, there are still some sticky matters for him to clean up yet. The most prominent one is the fact that their brownie making abilities are halted until a new spice permit could be acquired. This, of course, can not transpire until both Qui Gon and J.J. are present, and at present the jawa is still locked in the Big Brother house. So until then…no more brownies.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Very discouraging for them…but very profitable for myself. McDooku’s is doing a stupendous business and profits are through the roof. I hate to be benefiting from my old padawan’s misfortune…but I am a card carrying Sith Lord after all. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now unfortunately, my time in prison has left me in a bit of a disheveled state. With no proper grooming instruments or adequate clothes I have seemed to have let myself go, as they say. …As you can see here in this picture the day I was released.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/flay.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/flay.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Now the first thing you might say is, “Oh Dooku, what has happened to that fine head of hair of yours?” Well you would be surprised to know that this isn’t the first time I have had a rather…how should I say…bad hair day. It seems looking through old yearbooks of mine of my school days of youth I have had even worse hair. Would you like to see what I looked like then? I must tell you now, it’s none too pleasant.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/1600/yearbook.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7993/1217/320/yearbook.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I still don’t quite understand what I was voted for, but oh well.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Prison has also made me a bit…testy, it seems. And I fear it is high time to do a bit of Jedi smiting. But with so many Jedi running around these days, I’m having a bit of trouble deciding who I should go after?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Should I go and smite…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Obi-Wan Kenobi?</span> After all, he’s British and his arrogant manner is rather peeving. But I’m not sure if it would be a fair fight. He has let himself go these days and besides, I would hate to get Cheeto stains on my cape.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Mace Windu?</span> Here’s another easy mark. All I need to do is throw some force lightning in his face and he will cry like a babe.<span style=""> </span>For those of you who are unaware, force lightning dries out the skin oh so terribly and produced deep wrinkles.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Ki-Mundy? </span>Or ol moon head as we once called him. He is getting on in years and I swear his chin is getting to be the size of a small speeder. A rather easy mark I must say.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Anakin Skywalker?</span> Now here’s a beastly chap. Almost makes me wish he were on the dark side. A lot of anger in this one. But unfortunately a lot of arrogance too. And one sith lord with arrogance is all I can handle. <span style=""> </span>And besides, he should be smited simply for the fact that he doesn’t even speak proper Queen’s English. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Or there is always <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Master Yoda?</span><span style=""> </span>We have yet to conclusively determine just who the better of us is.<span style=""> </span>And I hear he is soaking his bunions for the next few days. This would be an excellent time for a surprise attack on the old chap. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh well, I’ll have another cup of tea and mull it over for now.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Cheerio! </p>Jawa Juicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05730686233492344321noreply@blogger.com10