Author Topic: Drabbo Fett's Writers' Race Challenge Responses -- All pieces posted June 15
Drabbo_Fett  1764 posts
Registered: Feb '03
Date Posted: 3/13/05 12:12pm Subject: Drabbo Fett's Writers' Race Challenge Responses -- All pieces posted June 15 - Date Edited: 6/15/05 5:44am (4 edits total) Edited By: Drabbo_Fett
This is my response to Challenge 3 in the Writers' Race. I apologize in advance.


Title: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors
Timeframe: Saga-ish AU
Focus; Obi-Wan

Skywalker had left the Order. Just up and said, "I'm gone to join the Sith." This didn't really surprise anyone, not really, since he'd always been nasty, brutish, and short-tempered. In fact, most agreed that Jacob Skywalker was the second-most unpleasant Jedi around, so from a day-to-day perspective, his leaving was pretty much a good thing. If only he hadn't gone alone.

In all Coruscant -- probably all the galaxy -- the nastiest, wickedest Jedi of them all was Obi-Wan Scrooge. Now of course this surprised many people who thought all Jedi were nicey-nice and friendly. But anyone who spent time around them, particularly anyone who'd even met Obi-Wan, knew that they could be as petty, petulant, and downright pathetic as anyone else.

And at the moment, Obi-Wan was being particularly petulant as he sat in the back seat of his armored sport utility speeder racing along Coruscant's skyways. It was the dead of winter, so the sky was sunny and 72 degrees. It was just about always sunny and 72. Thanks to the weather control system, it never snowed; the one day of rain the planet saw each year was an anachronism forced on the populace by little old ladies nostalgic for the times in their childhoods when it rained one day a year because that era's little old ladies forced it down everyone's throats for the same reason.

"What do you mean the miners are striking?" Obi-Wan yelled into his cell phone. "They're prisoners! They don't have the right to rebel!" After a moment, he calmed down and said, "If it keeps up, we'll just have to do the same thing on Kessel that we did on Arrakis. We'll force the director to make massive cuts, then kick him out and put all the footage back in as ham-handed a way as we can under the Smithee label."

The SUS swerved suddenly, and the phone flew out of both Obi-Wan's hand and the window. He slapped his droid driver, 1-WUD, on the back of the head. "What'd you do that for?"

The droid just stared ahead at the figure floating in front of the speeder, thousands of meters above the ground. "Hello," the apparition said, its voice feeling like it was inside Obi-Wan's head.

"Oh, Belgium," he said back.

* * *

The world outside the SUS grew dark -- about eight hours early -- as Qui-Gon floated into the seat beside his former apprentice. "You're looking well," he said.

"You're fatter than I recall," Obi-Wan said. "Been hitting the heavenly buffet?"

"I'm trying these Slim Force shakes right now, but they don't seem to be doing much good." He leaned back but sat up again when he realized he was disappearing into the Gungan-hide seat. "I was on Atkins for a bit, but spectral flatulence is so messy; the ectoplasm stains everything. I'm not here to talk about myself, though."

"That'll be a first."

"Obi-Wan," the ghost warned, "you are in great danger." He wiggled his fingers in front of Obi-Wan's face and made "woo" noises.

The Jedi, though, just rolled his eyes. "Is this the 'about to die' kind of danger or the 'you must mend your ways' kind?"

"Well, umm, both," Qui-Gon said, surprised. "How did you know this would be a 'mend your ways' speech?"

"It's Life Day Eve. Isn't that when spirits usually visit people to lecture them?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "It is our busiest day of the year. And, of course, it's the anniversary of the day you killed me."

"I did not!" Obi-Wan protested. "It was ruled an accident."

Qui-Gon parted his robes to reveal the bootprint on his chest. "An accident?"

"Joan of Arcadia boxers?"

The ghost blushed and closed his robes. "Shut up."

* * *

It had been many years earlier. Qui-Gon and his young apprentice Obi-Wan were in the middle of another in a string of bush-league missions for the High Council. They were on some jerkwater little planet stealing some symbol of authority -- a chunk of jethryk that'd be worth over eight million on the open market -- from an usurping count so they could return it to the princess who was the rightful ruler. As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, the only nice thing about the mission was that the princess was hot. Not learn-her-name hot, of course, but she'd been a wildcat in bed the night before. Well, there was one other potential nice thing, but he wasn't about to say it out loud.

Now they stood at the back of the count's mountaintop castle, jethryk in hand. Obi-Wan recovered their parachutes from the bush where he'd hidden them on the way in. He put his on without checking, then tossed Qui-Gon's to him. He watched as his master put the blue stone in his robes before inspecting the parachute. Then he walked to the edge and looked down into the valley where their ship waited.

"Be glad, my apprentice," Qui-Gon said. "The mission is almost... don't jump. Someone has tampered with the parachutes."

Obi-Wan
turned back around and looked at his Master with wide eyes. "What?" he gasped. "But how could the count know we're here? No alarm's gone off! It must be a trap!

Qui-Gon nodded sagely. "It would appear so."

"How can you be so calm while you're telling me this?"

"I just let the Force guide me,"
Qui-Gon said.

"Oh really?" Obi-Wan shouted. "What is the Force telling you now?"

Qui-Gon pulled something from his robe, shook it, and said, "'Ask Again Later.' Hmm."

"Where did you get that?" Obi-Wan demanded.

"Get what?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "The black object." He pointed to it.

"Ah, this. From the deepest depths of the Jedi Temple basement."

"But that's off-limits to all but the Council!"

"Or those with their blessing," Qui-Gon explained. "I am often down there."

"Why do you get to go there often?" the younger Jedi asked.

"I have a special dispensation to go down, but only on alternate Saturdays when Master Yoda's D&D group plays there. I play a dwarf cleric named Steve. Recently, Yoda's been throwing an inordinate number of giant mutant gerbils into the current campaign. He is a very strange person."

"He's not the only one," Obi-Wan said. "I am so getting emancipation when we get back."

"That may be harder than you think, apprentice, but for now it is immaterial since we're still stuck here."

"No," Obi-Wan corrected him, "actually only you're stuck. I only tampered with your chute." He pulled his master to the cliff edge and grabbed the jethryk and Jedi artifact from Qui-Gon's robe. "Quite probably the worst performance of my career, and Mr. Ultrasensitive Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn never doubted me for a second. Pathetic."

"You wouldn't leave me here, apprentice," Qui-Gon said calmly.

Obi-Wan laughed. "Of course not. By the way, I hate when you call me that." He lashed out with one foot, catching Qui-Gon square on the chest. The Jedi Knight was knocked backward, off the edge of the cliff.

"You're fired!" he screamed as he fell.

* * *

"Oh yeah," Obi-Wan said. "I guess I did kind of kill you. Still, no hard feelings?"

"Oh, very hard feelings. Unfortunately," Qui-Gon said, taking out his pocket watch, "we're running to a deadline, and you still have one more guide to see."

"I thought these interventions were supposed to have at least three ghosts."

"Didn't I just say we're running to a deadline?" Qui-Gon yelled, the skin peeling away from his face as an otherworldly wind blew past. Then the wind was gone, and his face returned to normal. "Anyway, he's not a ghost. He's a... well, it's complicated. He'll have to explain it to you there."

"Explain what to me where?"

* * *

Obi-Wan looked around at the garish booths, the headache-inducing lights, and the throngs of humans and aliens in bizarre costumes. "Where am I?"

A white rectangular hole opened in the empty space next to him, and a man in a bright suit stepped through it. "It's a science fiction convention," he said. "I'm Al, and you must be Obi-Wan."

Ah, Obi-Wan thought, so that's what one looked like. He was startled when a Whiphid with fake head ridges walked right through him.

"You're not really here," Al explained. "I'm only here as a neural hologram in the mind of, well, I'm not sure where Sam is. You're here as a neural hologram in my mind. At least that's what Ziggy says."

Obi-Wan had already lost interest. "But why am I here?"

"Well, that depends," Al said, "on if you mean you you or that you." He pointed to a nearby booth, where another Obi-Wan was arguing with some pointy-eared guy in a blue shirt.

Obi-Wan hid his surprise. "Start with that one."

Al consulted his handset. "After Master Yoda pulled some prank on you during a Council meeting, you retaliated by having his parents killed and made into chili."

"Was it good?" Obi-Wan asked.

"They were 1200 years old," Al said. "It was tough and leathery. Of course, that's what the Temple's chili is usually like, so he never noticed the difference. Once he did find out, he sentenced you to operating the Order's booth at these conventions. You have to stand there spewing the party line while being teased by geeks."

"Like the prat in the blue shirt?" Obi-Wan asked.

"That's a Mister... Spock," Al said as he and Obi-Wan moved closer to the Jedi's future self. "Apparently, he's also a regular at these things."

"I could never be a Jedi. My mind's too organized," Spock said dolefully.

"It just takes commitment to the Force,"
the live Obi-Wan said.

"What kind of forces, you say?"

"The Force," Obi-Wan reiterated with a sigh.


The observing version groaned impatiently. This was not going well. "Do I have to listen to the whole thing?" he asked. "Couldn't I just get the highlights?"

"You just want the highlights? Fine." Al started reading off his handset. "'A singular Force is not logical.' 'What does logic have to do with anything?' 'Without logic, there can be no balance.' 'The Force is balance.' 'But the Force is illogical, therefore unbalanced.' Yada, yada, yada. 'We're going in circles.' 'I do believe that I am standing still.' 'Where do you come from again?' 'I am a Vulcan.' 'Is that Bothan for weird?' 'What is a Bothan?' 'Something very illogical.'"

"Those are the highlights?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Frightening, isn't it?"

Obi-Wan saw that Spock had raised an eyebrow. "Everything is illogical here. I'm sure that if I had emotions I would be starting to get irritated."

Obi-Wan
watched as his future self took out his lightsaber.

"And the story ends there,"
Al said, looking up just in time to see the Vulcan decapitated. "Oh."

A crowd was gathering as Obi-Wan carefully cut the ears from Spock's head.

"WILL YOU BE HANG-ING THOSE FROM YOUR WALL?" a large gray salt shaker asked.

"Then the walls really would have ears, eh?" Obi-Wan quipped. "Well, almost but not quite. You know, though, pointy ears make handsome necklace ornaments." Obi-Wan whistled to himself as he picked them up. "No, I have a better idea," he said as he decided to give them as a gift to his tormentor, Master Yoda.

But as he looked at the crowd, he started to notice a lot of angry faces, and they were getting closer. How would he explain this to them in such a way he could get out of here with his skin intact? Maybe he could convince them it had all been a very bad dream. Although many species, unlike Jedi, do not dream. Could he say it had been an accident? That had worked before.

"What's he doing?" the observing Obi-Wan cried. "Run, you fool!"

For a brief moment, the live Obi-Wan paused; he thought he heard his own voice telling him to run. The pause proved fatal.

"This is for Spock!" a large green-skinned alien shouted as he plunged a blade in Obi-Wan's back.

"That's G'Kar," Al said.

Within seconds, others had joined in, all kicking or hitting or stabbing at the Jedi, continuing well after he was dead. Eventually, everyone but G'Kar backed away. He just knelt on the ground next to the two bodies. "Spock was my friend," he said. Then Obi-Wan's body twitched, so he stabbed him again.

"Well," the hologram Obi-Wan said, "I'm definitely going to have to remember not to turn my back on that one." He looked at Al. "I won't say this hasn't been entertaining, because it hasn't."

"Didn't you learn anything?" Al asked.

"Was I..."

* * *

"...Supposed to?" Obi-Wan was back in his SUS, and it was daytime. 1-WUD was driving normally. The Jedi unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over the front seat. "What time is it?" The clock in the dash indicated that it was only minutes after he'd left the Temple. Qui-Gon, the convention, none of it had been real. "Say," he said to the droid, "I just got this brilliant idea. What you do is kill a guy's parents and then..."

He died the moment the cargo hauler broadsided the speeder, before the SUS rolled through the air and burst into flames. The hauler slowed to a hover, and the driver leaned out of his window to watch the flaming wreckage tumble away.

Then he got back inside and looked at the figure in the passenger seat. "Not to question a Jedi or anything, but are you sure that was a good thing to do?"

"Oh yes," Qui-Gon said. "Sometimes one must resort to Plan B."

 

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Healer_Leona  36857 posts
Title: Manager Emeritus
Registered: Jul '00
8059_Qui-Gon Jinn
Date Posted: 3/13/05 12:47pm Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response
ROFLOL! Had to read that through a couple times, but that was great... I think I almost understand it too! grin grin

 

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Knight_Dilettante  2303 posts
Registered: Jul '02
24111_M&M Jedi
Date Posted: 3/13/05 4:13pm Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response - Date Edited: 3/13/05 4:14pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Knight_Dilettante
I'm sure I missed references. Though I'm guessing the salt shaker was a Dalek (spelling uncertain because I'm too lazy to go look it up) from Dr. Who, right? And G'kar, Al and Spock I get.

applause Very nice.

KD

 

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An Improbable Mission (Qui/Mace) updated 10/16/05 http://doiop.com/Mission
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Drabbo_Fett  1764 posts
Registered: Feb '03
Date Posted: 3/13/05 5:33pm Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response
Yes, it was a Dalek (and the more obvious of two Who references in the story).

Let's see what references I can find -- I was half-asleep when I wrote a lot of it. The title comes from the Christmas opera Amahl and the Night Visitors. The opening and basic structure are right out of A Christmas Carol, of course. "Nasty, brutish, and short-tempered" is a parody of Thomas Hobbes' famous description of life. Did I really type "nicey-nice"? That's not a reference, but yikes. Sunny and 72 is a reference to LA weather, as famously parodied in LA Story. The phone call is a reference to Dune, of course, specifically the behind-the-scenes struggles on the David Lynch version -- the TV edit was given the infamous Smithee credit. In golf, the 1 Wood is the driver. [That one I had to look up.] Belgium is a Hitchhiker's Guide profanity.

The Slim Fast and Atkins refs are probably obvious. The ectoplasm stuff comes via Ghostbusters, I don't know if Joan of Arcadia boxers are a genuine piece of swag, but it counts as a reference.

Jethryk is from Doctor Who (specifically, the story "The Ribos Operation"). The Magic 8-Ball and D&D refs I kept from the passage. The "worst performance of my career" line is based on one from Ferris Bueller's Day Off. "You're fired!" is, of course, from The Apprentice, which is also what I have Qui-Gon calling Obi-Wan throughout the scene.

What happens to Qui-Gon when he screams about deadlines is a reference to the library ghost in Ghostbusters.

Al is from Quantum Leap, natch. The Whiphid's dressed as a Klingon. tongue Spock's from Trek. The whole parents in chili thing was something Cartman did on South Park. The Dalek and G'Kar from Babylon 5 finish off the refs, since by that point, I really just wanted to get the thing done. [Realizing that, wait a minute, I haven't eaten in 26 hours can do that.]

 

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jodiwent  3613 posts
Registered: Feb '00
40713_Obi-Wan
Date Posted: 3/18/05 7:15am Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response
Sorry I took a while to respond. I thought this was a cute story. I especally liked Qui's hard fellings, and how there were only two spirits in the ghostly intervention LOL "Didn't I tell you we were running to a timeline?"

 

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Kynstar  9194 posts
Registered: Mar '04
14562_Count Dooku
Date Posted: 3/18/05 8:41am Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response
"I have a special dispensation to go down, but only on alternate Saturdays when Master Yoda's D&D group plays there. I play a dwarf cleric named Steve. Recently, Yoda's been throwing an inordinate number of giant mutant gerbils into the current campaign. He is a very strange person."

Oh my goodness!! ROTFL!! laugh That’s juz hilarious! Well mostly cuz I play D&D wink

And believe it or not… we had a GM that actually did that to us!!

Oh man I loved the Quantum Leap bit!! Al was always my fave! Dean love

And G'Kar getting revenge on Spock! thinking I thought he was redish orange? Oh well shows how long it's been since I've watched Bab5 wink My fav character was the Ranger with the mullet and beard! grin

Excellent! What a blast!! grin Made my day for sure!

 

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JadeSolo  13731 posts
Title: Manager Emeritus
Registered: Sep '02
Date Posted: 3/18/05 1:56pm Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response
LMFAO! Drabbo! laugh I started cracking up when I read Jacob Skywalker.

I didn't get every reference, but that was some hysterical <TOS VIOLATION>. grin I can't believe I missed the Ferris Bueller one - I love that movie!

As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, the only nice thing about the mission was that the princess was hot. Not learn-her-name hot, of course, but she'd been a wildcat in bed the night before. Well, there was one other potential nice thing, but he wasn't about to say it out loud.

HA! I love your Obi-Wan. laugh

 

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VaderLVR64  31008 posts
Title: Manager Emeritus
Registered: Feb '04
49060_Obi-Wan Kenobi (811092)
Date Posted: 3/18/05 3:06pm Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response
laugh

You always crack me up!

 

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Drabbo_Fett  1764 posts
Registered: Feb '03
Date Posted: 3/20/05 6:06am Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors -- A Writers' Race Challenge Response
Thanks, ladies. blush

 

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Drabbo_Fett  1764 posts
Registered: Feb '03
Date Posted: 6/13/05 11:09am Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors and Other Writers' Race Challenge Responses -- Updated June 13
First, congratulations to duskwings for winning the Writers' Race. Sorry it took so long for me to say that. blush

Anyway, here were a couple of my responses to other challenges.

For challenge one, due way back on March 1, we had to write a 25-sentence story. Well, it wasn't quite that simple.




Title: The Valley of Death


Across the valley, the armies came ever closer. Boots tore up the wet ground. Clumps of grass and mud flew through the air. Droids rolled alongside, tearing deep gouges. Every inch of the valley would be ripped apart before this day was done.

From somewhere in the distance, a whistle blew. Gongs clashed. Horns sounded. Instantly, chaos erupted. Just as the first combatants were about to reach each other, a blast shredded them and all around them. Ki-Adi-Mundi, watching from a ridge above, scanned the battle for the blast's source. Lightsaber ignited, he raced down the hill. Mud splattered his tunic as he entered the fray. Neither species in this conflict was supposed to have weaponry this powerful.

Over to his right, another blast rocked the valley. Passing stunned and confused warriors, the Jedi raced for the spot. Quite how this could be happening, he shuddered to think. Running full out, he couldn't stop as he reached the crater; he tumbled into it. Scrambling to his feet, he froze when he saw the familiar form -- one he'd thought dead -- standing before him. The bounty hunter aimed his heavy blaster at the Jedi's chest. Up above them, more blasts tore into the battlefield, but neither noticed.

Very careful to project only calm, Ki-Adi-Mundi faced his foe. "Who are you? You're not Jango Fett, I know that."

*ZAP!* was the only response.




A couple days later, we had to write a sad non-AU (as far as the films were concerned) piece set during one of the end-of-film celebrations.




Title: A Tiny Sliver


A tiny sliver of metal. That was all it was.

It wasn't even large enough to count as shrapnel. He had no idea it existed, hadn't even felt as it sliced into the back of his neck and became wedged against his spine. No, he was sure the blast had missed him completely as he rejoined the battle. Maybe later, he noticed a slight itch, but he never paid it any attention.

* * *

Hours later, the battle was done. The Empire had been defeated, the Death Star destroyed. In the Ewoks' village, the rebels -- was that term appropriate anymore? -- were celebrating. Lando and Wedge were recounting their escape from the exploding space station for the eighth or ninth time that night, telling Luke. The Jedi, showing a contentment he never had before, was listening intently while watching Ewok children climb up C-3PO.

Han and Leia were sharing a quiet moment when they saw Wicket staring up at them, his arms held wide. Ever since Leia had hugged him earlier, the little guy had kept coming back for more. She found it sweet, but Han was beginning to get suspicious that the Ewok's motives weren't so innocent.

Rolling her eyes, Leia said, "Okay, but this is the last time." She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him. He started to hum happily, so Han shook the youth's head, the way he'd tousle a human child's hair. It was fatal.

The shaking knocked the sliver loose. It fell alongside the spine and dropped straight through his lungs before slicing open his heart. It continued through his stomach, liver, and kidneys, among other organs, before bouncing off his femur and coming out his thigh. It slipped between two wooden slats and disappeared into the forest below, never to be found.

By the time the two humans suspected anything was wrong, Wicket was already dead.

 

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PadawanKitara  7976 posts
Registered: Dec '01
6383_Bariss (71809)
Date Posted: 6/13/05 5:11pm Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors and Other Writers' Race Challenge Responses -- Updated June 13
The first one was hysterical. I really needed the laugh-thanks

The second was a bit surprising. I didn't really think it was the furball

 

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Drabbo_Fett  1764 posts
Registered: Feb '03
Date Posted: 6/13/05 7:48pm Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors and Other Writers' Race Challenge Responses -- Updated June 13 - Date Edited: 6/13/05 7:48pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Drabbo_Fett
You're welcome, PK. wink

The funny thing about the second was that even though it didn't win for saddest vignette -- I don't think it even placed -- at least one person thought it was sad; a couple of the later challenges had "no dead Ewok'" rules. devil

 

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Drabbo_Fett  1764 posts
Registered: Feb '03
Date Posted: 6/14/05 6:17am Subject: RE: Obi-Wan and the Night Visitors and Other Writers' Race Challenge Responses -- Updated June 14
Okay, the next challenge was to create as long a passage as possible in a couple hours without repeating any words. My original idea was going to include references to other SF properties like Trek, Doctor Who, Battlestar Galactica and beyond, but we were limited to SW and dictionary terms.




Title: List


Ozzel winced, blinked excessively, shivered, whimpered, shuddered, cried, yet somehow still projected confidence as he brought his Sith master an update on their hunt -- Imperial probe droids had already scanned countless planets in myriad systems so far -- for Rebels' secret bases.

"My lord, negative reports from Dantooine, Muunilinst, Coruscant..."

"You're wasting precious time and resources sending probes to investigate the Emperor's very own seat of power, Admiral?" Vader demanded angrily. "Or perhaps should I say Ensign?"

Kendal gulped. "Call me thorough? Please?" Nothing. "Anyway, also no signs at Kessel, Mimban, Bespin, Roon, Tatooine, Dagobah, Nar Shaddaa, Ord Mantell, Rattatak, Wayland, Yavin, Mon Calamari, Selonia, Myrkr, Toola, Naboo, Arbra, Corellia, Kintan, Haruun Kal, Alderaan -- well, its debris -- Geonosis, Cerea, Hypori, Raxus Prime, Tyne's Horky, Clak'Dor, Kashyyyk, Jabiim, Kamino, Endor, Csilla, Ilum, Byss, Cona, Ando, Falleen, Neimoidia, Celegia, Bothawui, Kothlis, Zolan, Elom, Duro, Urkupp, Malastare, Gamorr, Yag'Dhul, Antar, Kinyen, Hok, H'nemthe, Tibrin, Sanyassa, Ithor, Klatooine, Honoghr, Skor, Rodia, Cadomai, Sullust, Ryloth, Gentes, Sriluur, Champala, Rhommamool, Coachelle, Aduba, Dorin, Aleen, Nirauan, Phu..."

"Wait!" a computer scanner technician shouted, racing up toward them. "We got one!"

"Where?"

"Hoth, sirs. Definitely something happening, looks like there are shield generators, maybe more."

Darth nodded, but just slightly. "Excellent, Captain. That's how this task is done."




And I got every one of those planets from the databank, first using the planet list, then clicking species for their homeworlds, then characters, then... well, then time was up. It's a slow process on a dial-up. Anyway, a couple challenges later, we had to write a vignette based on one of a set of passages participants had built up three words at a time in a frenetic round-robin style.




Title: Errant Youths


Mirwi raced into the control room, where her husband Raka and his brothers were spending the night as they spent all nights, preparing for the coming day's business. "She's gone!"

"What now?" one of Raka's brothers scoffed. "Raka, you need to..."

Mirwi's husband shushed him. "What do you mean she's gone?" he asked.

"Brili's not on board. We've searched the entire crawler," Mirwi said, indicating the other females gathered behind her. "If she were here, we would have found her."

Raka turned to his eldest brother, who held up a hand. "Do not even ask it. You know that we cannot delay to go looking for an errant youngling. I will let you and your wife take the speeder, though."

"Thank you," Raka started to say.

"However," the eldest warned, "you will not receive a share of any profits we make in your absence, and it will be halved for an equal time after you return."

Raka looked from his wife to his brother and back again.

* * *

Two hours later, the suns were starting to rise, and Mirwi still could not see any sign of her daughter. She'd long since stopped cursing Raka; he'd been right to stay behind rather than risk their financial well-being, she told herself.

Just as she was about to give up, she spotted a tiny trail through the sand. Five minutes later, she'd found Brili. The child stood atop a dune and started to run down when she saw her mother.

Both Jawas stopped, panicked, when the dune started to shake. Brili began whimpering and squeaking. Sand poured away, and the girl found herself standing on the back of a krayt dragon. The beast, which had dug its way into the dune to sleep, now yawned, bits of fur dropping from its bloody jaws and jagged teeth. It coughed once, expelling the bones of a dewback it had been digesting for the last fortnight. After another yawn, the dragon closed its eyes again. As soon as it was asleep, Mirwi made Brili jump down, and the two left as quickly as possible.

* * *

Across the Jundland wastes, it was not quite first dawn when Owen and Beru were awakened by the sounds of breaking glass and shrieking Jawas. No, Owen realized, singing Jawas.

He got out of bed and put on his robe. "I'll see what this is about."

"Hold on," Beru said, joining him. While her husband went outside, she went to Luke's room. The bed was empty, its sheets untouched. "Owen!" she screamed, panic filling her voice. "Luke's gone! He never came home last night!"

"I know," Owen answered calmly as he pushed the youth inside. "He's been out with friends." He pronounced this last with disdain. "Well, boy, anything to say before I ground you for two months?"

 

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Drabbo_Fett  1764 posts
Registered: Feb '03
Date Posted: 6/15/05 5:43am Subject: Drabbo Fett's Writers' Race Challenge Responses -- All pieces posted June 15
Another challenge was to write an OC story without the movie or EU characters -- no character named in either could have any dialogue -- and without "Jedi, politicians, druids, bounty hunters, clones, the Sith, lightsabers, pilots, Gungans, or the Vong." It shouldn't surprise anyone that I got the idea for this after listening to an episode of the '60s British radio comedy I'm Sorry, I'll Read That Again.




Title: Prizza's Honor


Deep in the heart of the Hutt's palace, there were four chambers, as one might expect in a heart. One of these was his audience chamber, and all the criminals of Yaboo -- proclaimed "The Galaxy's Breadbasket" after someone mistyped the name of the planet which was supposed to get the honor, Alderaan (obvious mistake, really) -- loved to be in the audience, because the Hutt always gave a great show.

Today, a grotty little human stood trembling on the grate in the chamber's center. "Do you have anything," the Hutt's Feeorin enforcer Fionor -- try saying that three times fast -- asked him, "to say to the great Prizza the Hutt?"

"Yes, I'll have a medium with sausage," the man said in a high, whiny voice.

The Hutt's dais moved closer. "What is your name?" Prizza demanded.

"I am Sniv'ling."

"We can see that," Prizza bellowed, "but what is your name?"

"That is me name," Sniv'ling said.

Prizza looked at Fionor. "Why have you brought this... thing here?"

"After a pub fight," Fionor explained, "I awoke to find him trying to steal my gold fillings."

"Is this true?" Prizza asked the human.

"Yes, your Huttiness," Sniv'ling admitted. "I was caught with me hand in the crookie's jaw."

The audience groaned. "For that," Prizza shouted, "I will show you my rancor!"

"You mean I'm not seeing it now?" Sniv'ling retorted.

"Die!" Prizza slammed his fist down on the hatch release, but the grate did not move. "It's stuck. Jump up and down a bit."

Sniv'ling did, and the hatch dropped away. Seconds later, he landed in the pit below. Soon after that, the audience heard him screaming. "He's nibbling me arm! Oh no! Wait, what's he doing now? He's... no, no, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

What happened next was even too gruesome for the Hutt to witness. And Sniv'ling didn't care for it much, either.

"Who's next?" Prizza asked.

A heavyset human woman stepped forward. She was old, her yellowing blue-gray hair in tangles and her chest sagging frighteningly.

Prizza stared at the woman. "Who are you?"

"I'm your mother," she said. The audience gasped.

"But I'm a Hutt."

"Oh, my son, I thought you'd have worked it out by now," she said. "I sold you to the Hutts as an infant to pay for my gamboling debts."

"Gamboling debts?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I love to gambol, also to skip and occasionally frolic. Anyway, the Hutts raised you as one of their own."

Prizza considered this news. "So much makes sense now," he whispered. "My legs, for one thing." After a pause he added, "Thank you." Then he hit the hatch release.

"Why, you ungrateful son of a whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!"

Prizza looked at the audience. "Can you be trusted to never mention this to anyone?"

A Rodian raised his hand. "I might let it slip."

"Okay, jump in the pit," the Hutt told him. The Rodian shrugged and dove through the hatch. "Anyone else?"




I've recently been adapting it into an audio script, though Prizza's become Burga the Hutt. Yes, I know, but there just aren't a lot of famous hut types.

The next challenge was another free-for-all in which we had to have one character murder another, and then the next person would have to have somebody murder that character in a new way, and so on. I only mention it because it played heavily in my response to the last challenge, which was to write a piece based on the Race. I got the idea while watching DVD extras.




Title: Easter Eggs


Xanatos ignited his saber and sneered at his former master. "You have any last words?"

"Zipper's down," Qui-Gon said, pointing.

* * *

Boss Nass stood over the body of Adi Gallia, laughing long and hard in between bites of his powdered doughnut. Because of this, he did not hear as Plo Koon snuck up from behind wielding a large candlestick. The Jedi raised the weapon above his head and brought it down with as much Force-enhanced power as he could on the back of the Gungan's head. The candlestick sank in a few inches, then stopped. After a second, it sprang back right at Plo. The weapon shattered the Jedi's mask and crushed the face beneath, killing him instantly. Nass didn't even notice.

* * *

* Plo's death really threw us for a loop. I mean we all thought the candlestick was really clever and unexpected. Who knew you couldn't bludgeon a Gungan? So now, not only did we have to come up with a new killer, we had to think up a new method to kill Nass, too. Fortunately, the answer to that one was staring us in the face. *

* * *

X-rays bombarded the craft as it dropped through the planet's toxic atmosphere. Yarael looked down at the inhospitable surface and up at the enemy ships hovering above. Zugzwang, he thought grimly.

* * *

* Dictionary note: Zugzwang comes from chess and describes the situation in which any move will worsen a player's position. See? These things can be educational, too. *

* * *

"<bleep> no! There ain't no <bleeeep> way I'm doing that! What do you mean, what would I like to do? I would <bleeeep> like to go home and go to bed, not stay here and kill some <bleeeep> Gungan! How would I kill him? If it were up to me, I'd beat the <bleeeep>'s big, bloated behind with my bare hands. Don't you dare laugh at that!"

* * *

* Don't worry, I was laughing on the inside. Eventually, though, he did come around. *

* * *

Nass stopped laughing as Mace strode across the room straight toward him.

"Yousa no scare me, Jedi," he said, bringing a new doughnut to his lips.

Mace leaned in close and, without a word, blew. The powder flew off the doughnut toward the Gungan's face. Nass inhaled involuntarily, pulling a lot of it up his nose. He asphyxiated within seconds.

Mace turned and angrily walked out. "Happy now? <bleeeeeeeep>."

* * *

Leia looked at the dead Ewoks scattered throughout the village. Not a single one appeared to be left alive. Odd, she thought, they'd all been fine when the party started. "Stop the music!" she yelled.

The assorted rebels all turned to look at her. "All right," she said, wagging her finger, "who came here with a communicable disease?"

Slowly, a hand rose.

"Orange Seven?"

"Yes, miss," the pilot said. "I had a sniffle, miss. I didn't think it would be a big deal. I just wanted to join the party, miss."

Leia shook her head. "Now everyone, what's the rule about being around a native population when we're sick?"

"Don't do it," everyone said in unison.

"That's right. Orange Seven, I want you to clean up this mess you've made, and let this be a lesson to everyone else."

* * *

Xylophonists attacked their instruments with excitement. Yodelers yelled Yoda's praises. Zithers played zydeco.

* * *

* Yeah, I know what you're thinking, but it was still better than the one that ranked women from athletic to zaftig. *

* * *

"<bleeeep> doughnut powder," Mace muttered as he hopped into his purple speeder. He started the engine and flipped on his radio.

"Sky rockets in flight, afternoon delight!" Mace never had time to swear. The shock had killed him even before the singers repeated, "Aaaaafternoon delight!"

Miles away, Zam wondered why someone had paid her so much just to change someone else's radio stations.

* * *

* Well, he certainly never saw that one coming, did he? *

 

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