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Author	Topic: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
ophelia Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 7/2/06 12:01am Subject: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly. - Date Edited: 7/18/06 4:29pm (6 edits total) Edited By: ophelia
	Title: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi Author(s): ophelia Timeframe: AU for end of RotJ Rating: PG for mild profanity Characters: SW: All the major ones from the OT, including glowing dead Jedi. Ghostbusters: the four guys who took on the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man. Genre: Humor, AU, crossover Keywords: humor, crossover, Ghostbusters, OT, dead Jedi Summary: Well, who would win?! Does Yoda end up in a little black-and-yellow striped box or what? Notes: A very belated response to my own image challenge thread. The image is below. And no, I don’t know why I keep writing deranged crossovers. (Click on the thumbnail for a larger image) Rebels and Ewoks join together in dancing and celebration. The original group of adventurers watch from the sidelines. Only Luke seems distracted, alone in their midsts, his thoughts elsewhere. He looks off to the side and sees three shimmering, smiling figures at the edge of the shadows: Ben Kenobi, Yoda, and Anakin Skywalker. Then, four guys in bunchy gray flightsuits showed up. Ray was holding a map and turning it around and around in a manner that made it look useless--which, in fact, it was. "Guys, I don't see any 1327 around here. Do you?" he asked. "1327 what?" Egon asked, as he turned his head to watch an intoxicated Ewok stagger by. "This doesn't look like the Lower East Side to me," Winston said, glancing around as if they might just have stumbled into hell. Again. Venkman was unfazed as usual, and wandered a way further down the wooden walkway of the Ewok village. He had the faintly puzzled air of a man who has begun to suspect he was mistakenly directed to the retail outlet that is not having the tag sale. "You have a point," he said. "If there were 1,000-foot trees down by the East River, I'd have noticed." Ray was starting to sweat around the neck and get that rabbity, nervous look he got when something seriously assaulted his sense of reality. "We must've gone the wrong way on the bridge," he said. "This has to be Long Island." "I don't remember any drum-beating monkey-bears on Long Island," Egon said. Winston had discovered the deep drop into shadow over the walkway’s railing and said, “I remember there being a ground on Long Island.” "Remember that car we chased?" Ray asked, pacing now. "The one that looked like an old-fashioned hearse?" "Ray, we drive an old-fashioned hearse," Venkman pointed out. "We never should have turned the weak ion attractor on that car. Especially not when it had 73-year-old expired plates and a driver whose eyesockets had little glowing red dots in them," Ray said. "You’re right, Ray," Venkman said. “We should only have followed an eyeless hearse driver with fully legal and current license plates.” Winston kept giving very nervous looks at the rickety walkway they were standing on, and said, “I just want you all to know, I have a religious objection to dying. I think that if God had wanted us to die, he wouldn’t have filled up all his churches with living people.” "Something's wrong," Ray said, turning more jittery by the moment. "Something's terribly, terribly wrong. I don't think this is 1327 Catalpa Boulevard at all.” “The presence of hundreds of dancing monkey bears would tend to support that conclusion,” Egon said. “The hearse driver must’ve lost us in a bad patch—run us through an area where the protonic fabric of the universe was weak,” Ray said. “He could’ve hurled us all the way across the galaxy, or back in time, or into some other dimension altogether. This is a disaster. This is a disaster of interdimentional proportions.” “I’ve got a religious objection to that too,” Winston said. "Ray, you're talking again. Stop it," Egon said. "Oh . . . was I?" Ray asked. He sounded disoriented, as if he’d been startled out of his panic attack and had to hunt around for reality again. "Sorry." Venkman had discovered something while everyone else bickered. "Hey, guys? Look over there,” he said, gesturing toward a walkway platform some distance through the trees. “Those glowing blue things . . . what do they look like to you?" Ray and Winston squinted in the direction he was pointing. Egon was fumbling with his PKE meter. He generally needed a gadget to fidget with in moments of stress. “Well . . . it’s not the hearse driver,” Ray said, “but it looks like we didn’t come through that dimensional portal alone.” “That little one looks like what we sucked out of that old lady’s basement the other night,” Winston said. “Ugh,” Venkman said, remembering. “Another slimer.” Egon had managed to unhook his PKE meter, and its indicator bars shifted several notches upward when he aimed it at the shimmering glow. “I’m getting an impressive reading, considering the distance,” he said. “What do we do?” Ray asked in a harsh whisper, as if the ghosts could hear them. “Well,” Venkman began, in an oddly reasonable tone that somehow suggested a deep-seated insanity, “we’re trapped on the wrong side of a dimensional portal, we’re surrounded by monkey bears, and we’re definitely not going to make our nine o’clock at Frobisher’s Drycleaning.” He seemed to consider a moment. Finally he said, “I say we blast ‘em.” “Sounds good to me,” said Winston. It must’ve sounded good to Ray and Egon, too, since everybody immediately went for their proton guns. Once they were all armed, Ray pulled a trap from a hook on his belt and kicked it out onto the uneven planks of the walkway. “I’ll be a lot happier when that slimer’s in the trap,” he said. “Somehow I doubt they have public showers out here.” “Let’s just not think about that possibility, okay?” Venkman asked. He got slimed a lot. “Let’s take things one disaster at a time.” “You think we can get ‘em all the way over here without losing ‘em?” Winston asked, anxiously eyeing the distance between the trap and the glowing figures, who stood on the other side of a chasm of space, which was criss-crossed by various walkways. “If we can’t, we probably won’t have to worry about it very long,” Egon said. “There’s at least three of them that I can see, and we’re about 500 feet above the ground. One good psychokinetic slam and this plank bridge is history.” Winston looked very unhappy. “I can’t afford to die—not with ghosts in this many dimensions mad at me,” he said. “Just for the record,” Egon told him, “If you die and we have to lock your psychic residual self-image behind the containment grid, it’s nothing personal.” Winston glared up at Egon and demanded, “Do you have to say things like that?” “Let’s think happy thoughts,” Venkman said. “Endorphins are performance-enhancing. Did you know that rats perform 32% better if you shoot them up with opiate compounds before sending them through a maze? The same thing works on humans.” Ray gave him a faintly-suspicious look and asked, “Why do you know that?” “Peter, we’re trapped on the far side of a dimensional rift with at least three ghosts in sight and PKE readings through the ceiling. A quick and painless death is a happy thought,” Egon said. For once, Venkman didn’t seem to have an answer. The grim reality of their situation seemed to penetrate his skull for a moment, but fortunately for him, lucidity didn’t last long. "Okay, you take the slimer,” he said. “Thanks,” said Egon, with the enthusiasm of a man being handed a dead snail. "Winston, you take the old guy,” Venkman continued, “and I'll take the kid with the bad 70's hair. Ray . . . you provide backup . . . and see if you can’t keep that little green thing from sliming me, okay?” "On the count of three then," Egon said. "One, two--" And then somebody got trigger-happy, and shot a bolt of energy straight at the old guy. That old dude was lightning-fast--in an instant he was holding some kind of glowing sword out in front of him, and it actually blocked the energy beam. A moment later all four Ghostbusters were firing away, and the bad-hair kid pulled the same blocking trick. The little slimer creature actually caught and deflectd both Egon's and Ray’s beams with his bare hands. Some of the deflected energy was starting to travel back up the beam paths, and it became hard to control the hoses. "It's not affecting them at all!" Ray shouted, incredulous. "The last thing that held us off like this was Venkman's ex-girlfriend, when she tried to destroy the city." "Do you have to mention that?" Venkman shouted back. "Can I have just a little sensitivity shown to my personal life?" Then suddenly the air was full of what looked like burning white needles, and Winston was shouting, "Duck!" They all bolted for the trunk of the nearest tree, which was enormous enough for all four Ghostbusters to successfully cringe behind it. The air smelled like woodsmoke now, and perfectly-curved ovoid holes had been burned through the walkway, making the planks look like Swiss cheese. "What the hell was that?" Winston asked. "Judging by what those bolts of light did to the bridge, I’d guess that was the result of some kind of fusion-powered-reaction capable of generating heat at least equal to that of the surface of the sun," Egon said. Even in the dim light behind the tree, he looked a little green and ill. “Well, that’s never good,” Venkman said. “What happens if one of those things hits you?” Ray asked. "You die," was Egon's disheartening response. Ray looked to be considering a full mental breakdown when they were unexpectedly spared by a man shouting in a slurred voice. “Hey—hey, hey! Cut it out! You kids put those toys away ‘fore you hurt somebody.” “At least they speak English,” Venkman said. “They can’t be all bad.” “Gozer spoke English,” Egon pointed out. “You know, comments like that are not helpful,” Venkman answered. His thin veneer of sanity finally seemed to be cracking, and his voice rose as he spoke. “We’ve had this conversation before. If you cannot say something nice . . .” Fortunately, the slurred-voiced man interrupted again. “And you over there . . . Torch! Behind the tree! Quit with the particle welders. You’re gonna put a hole through whatever’s holdin’ all of these hut-things up.” The Ghostbusters looked at each other. The man shouting at them sounded drunk, and was apparently armed. It wasn’t a situation that screamed “trust.” “We could try fighting our way out,” Egon said doubtfully. “Fighting our way out of what?” Ray asked. “We’re still in an alien dimension, no matter what we do.” “You know . . . if I’m going to die, I’d rather do it on Earth, without any monkey bears around. I’m doing what the guy says,” Venkman said, already shrugging his way out of his proton pack. “I second that motion,” Winston said, hauling his pack off too. “Third,” said Ray. In record time, the Ghostbusters had heroically succeeded in disarming themselves. They all stood with their hands up in a gesture of surrender, as something that looked like a B-movie fan’s acid dream rounded the enormous tree, and stood looking at them from about twenty feet away. There was a guy who looked like a 70’s vision of an outer-space gunslinger, weaving slightly on his feet and spilling a bit from the two midget-sized wooden mugs he managed to hold in one hand; next to him was a huge, mutant cross between Wilt Chamberlain and an orangutan. The orangutan wore nothing but a bandolier that made him resemble one of Che Guevara’s revolutionaries, and he was pointing what was clearly the business end of something very unpleasant at the four intruders. Standing dwarfed in his shadow was a petite woman in tailored camos who looked a lot like a heavily-armed version of John Belushi’s girlfriend. There were also a bunch of nondescript guys in orange jumpsuits, and a unsettled-looking crowd of monkey-bear things, most of them waving stone-tipped spears. “We are ready to surrender,” Egon said, pronouncing each word as if he’d memorized it out of a phrasebook, and didn’t want to get it wrong. Then he tried it in German: “Wir sind bereit zu aufgeben.” “What the frell?” asked the drunk gunslinger. “Hey, somebody get Goldenrod over here—this guy’s speaking Quarrenese or something.” A moment later he changed his mind: “No, wait—don’t. I don’t wanna listen to him. I’ll talk to ‘em myself.” He then proceeded to use the exact same exaggerated pronunciation Egon had been using: “Do. Not. Aim. The. Particle welders. At. The. Trees. You got that? Uyari je?” “What?” whispered Ray, shooting Winston an anxious glance. “This is the part where you smile and nod, Ray. Smile, and nod,” Winston said, between grinning, clenched teeth. All four Ghostbusters smiled and nodded in unison. “There. See? No problem,” the gunslinger said, gesturing at the Ghostbusters for the apparent benefit of John Belushi’s girlfriend. She seemed unimpressed, however. “You going to ask who they are or why they’re carrying those welders around . . . General?” she asked. The unlikely-looking general sort of shrugged, wearing the chagrined look of a man who really doesn’t care about something, but has to think of a good excuse to ignore it. “Well . . . look at ‘em. They’re probably navy ground support.” The Ghostbusters all looked down at themselves, trying to figure out what, exactly, about them said “interdimensional navy ground support.” It was true that their gray-khaki jumpsuits and surplus army boots caused them to bear a certain resemblance to the crowd of orange-flightsuited guys. Apparently nobody had noticed the “no ghosts” logo patch on their arms. Or the fact that they were not, in fact, carrying “particle welders.” “Hey, Wedge—these guys yours?” the slurry-voiced general called out. One of the guys in orange held his hands up as if trying to avoid the slightest physical contact with the Ghostbusters—despite the fact that he wasn’t even within spitting distance of them. “They’re not mine,” he said, “Try Gold Squadron.” Then he walked off with the air of a man who has just seen something much too weird for his taste, and doesn’t want to get involved. “Well anyway, if they’re navy, they’re Ackbar’s problem,” the general said. Suddenly his eyes lit up with what was best described as evil glee. “Or Lando!” “Orlando?” Winston said softly, shooting a confused look at Ray. “This is supposed to be Florida?” “I get it!” Venkman exclaimed, grinning as if he’d finally puzzled out the punchline of a terrific joke. As he spoke he managed to work himself up to slightly-hysterical laughter. “This is some kind of giant theme park! Any minute now, Micky and Minnie are going to come walking around the corner, waving and handing out balloons, and some hidden camera is going to take pictures of our faces. This’ll be great!” “I think they usually fake the laser blasts in theme parks, Peter,” said Egon. “Where is Lando, anyway?” the general asked, turning around and scanning the crowd. “First he knocks off my sensor dish flying into that big, floating pile of scrap the Emperor called a space station, and now his ground crew is goin’ nuts, shootin’ particle beams at the trees.” John Belushi’s girlfriend was starting to look as if she had a headache. “Chewie, would you just go and put those fusion packs somewhere out of the reach of children?” she said. “I don’t want to survive the war only to get welded to death at the victory celebration.” Chewie the giant orangutan made an affirmative-sounding bark and started lumbering toward the Ghostbusters’ unique, custom-built, and highly-illegal nuclear acceleration devices. All four men stepped in front of their proton packs, trying to protect the only things that would shield them against several dimensions’-worth of irate spectral phenomena. “No—wait! We need these!” Ray shouted. “I can’t replace the plutonium—the KGB cracked down and plugged my security leak,” Egon pled. Chewie stopped, planted one furry hand on his hip, and made a series of noises that suggested he was not very sympathetic, and that he thought they were all out of their freaking minds. At that moment, a slight man in black, unobtrusive as a shadow, slipped around the towering hairball and asked, “What’s going on?” The hairball pointed at the Ghostbusters and gave some kind of growling, yowping account that didn’t sound very complimentary. “No, wait—we can explain!” Ray cried. “No we can’t,” Venkman pointed out. When Ray threw him a frantic look, Venkman asked him, “Well, can we? We were out looking for a haunted dry cleaners’, and ended up in the United Federation of peyote-induced nightmares instead. Can you explain that, Ray?” Ray just looked depressed. He seemed about ready to mumble something vaguely defensive, when he suddenly jumped as if something had stabbed him. Actually, something had—the indicator bars on his PKE meter had swung up suddenly and jabbed him in the thigh. He pulled the tool off his belt and said, “We’ve got another spike.” “I recommend against going for the proton packs this time,” Egon said. “It looks like it’s coming from straight ahead,” Ray said. He hesitated a moment before the hulking figure of the orangutan, but when the creature didn’t seem imminently bent on blasting him or snapping his neck, he began cautiously advancing along the walkway, watching as the meter’s lights flashed more and more wildly. The orangutan started barking in a warning tone as Ray approached the group of acid-dream people, but they seemed more confused than alarmed, and no one moved to block him. Ray followed the meter’s readings as they escalated, only to discover that the spike didn’t top out until the device was right against the chest of the man in black. The man just looked down at the handheld machine flashing against the front panel of his shirt. For a moment he seemed at a loss for how to deal with this particular situation, and then he said, “Could you . . . not do that?” The orangutan took a harder line this time; he gave a barking snarl and strode up to shove the PKE meter away from the man’s chest. As soon as the meter was pointed in another direction, its readings dropped. Ray was too mesmerized by the effect to be frightened off by the orangutan. “It’s you,” he said. “Hey guys! Come here and look at this. I haven’t seen this kind of psychokinetic reading coming from a living person since Louis Tully.” “Well . . . I’m . . . a Jedi,” the man said. “Yeah, and I’m a Virgo, but this is incredible,” Ray said. By that time Venkman and Egon had caught up with him, and were also waving their PKE meters around, to the intense annoyance of the orangutan. The hairy beast kept trying to swat the meters out of the air like so many electronic fireflies. The three Columbia University Ghostbusters started calling out rapid-fire questions, all talking over one another: “Have you left your native dimension recently? Do you have any reason to suspect you’ve been approached by entities from a parallel dimension within the last six months?” “Have you been asked to carry a suspicious package that appeared to emit energies outside the expected pattern of physics for the universe as you know it?” “Do you now, or have you ever, allowed your physical form to be inhabited by spectral beings of extra-dimensional origin?” Only Winston, who hadn’t entered the ghostbusting field through the academic route of the paranormal sciences, hung back. In fact, he looked mortally embarrassed by his colleagues’ babbling, and gave a nervous, sickly grin to the orangutan. “Hey, I just work here,” he said, holding up his hands and backing off slightly. That was probably a good idea, since the orangutan was starting to look mad enough to start hurling people over the walkway railings. John Belushi’s girlfriend probably saved at least a couple of lives by placing her hand on the man in black’s arm and stepping in at that moment, interposing herself between him and the overzealous Ghostbusters’ PKE meters. “Listen, whoever you are—you need to leave, and take those toys with you,” she said. Her words had no effect, however, because the meters lit up like Christmas ornaments when she got in front of them. “It’s her, too!” shouted Ray. The Ghostbusters started waving their meters all around her, and began peppering her with bizarre questions as she tried to duck their flashing instruments. “Do you often find you can predict events before they happen?” Egon asked. “I can guess you’ll be swallowing teeth in a minute if you don’t quit waving those flashing things around. Now shut up!” she said. Nobody shut up. “Have you ever made contact with the etheric plane through the medium of a major appliance?” Ray asked. Venkman was giving her a look as if he were appreciating more than her PKE readings. “You know, it’s getting awfully loud around here,” he said, as if scandalized by his partners’ behavior. “What do you say we go somewhere quiet . . . out of the way . . . where there isn’t any fire from fusion-powered weapons . . .” His move toward her was abruptly halted by the general, who held an example of that very type of fusion-powered weapon right at Venkman’s nose. “What do you say you don’t?” he said. A situation that might have turned even nastier in very short order was interrupted by the appearance of a shimmering blue figure standing off to one side. It was the kid with the bad 70’s hair. “I don’t know about this, Obi-Wan,” he said. “I’m out of power for two hours, and they’re already trying to shoot each other.” The old guy appeared next to him a moment later. He glared at the little knot of individuals who appeared about ready to break out into a brawl. “Now listen,” he told them, “you’re making the repentant dead regret repenting. Please cease behaving like people who need a Death Star pointed at them to keep them from rioting, and act like civilized beings.” The little green thing showed up and poked a translucent cane at the Ghostbusters. “And shoot proton streams at us you should not! Our dimension this is. Intruders we are not. Shoot proton streams at you, did we, when showed up uninvited, you did?” Ray just blinked at him as if a bulb had burnt out in his brain. “I have . . . no idea what you just said,” he told the glowing greenish thing. “Could you try that again, only with the words in the . . . uhh . . . usual order?” “He said that he’s mad,” Winston translated. “Ah,” Ray said, seeming to make the connection with the attempt to put the cranky, backward-talking creature in a ghost trap. “Sorry about the . . . um, proton thing.” "If you know we're 'intruders' you must've seen us come into this dimension," Egon said. "Can you show us the way out again?” “My dear fellow, if we had any idea how to speed you on your way, you’d have been gone before your feet ever touched the ground,” the old guy said. “I’m sure we can send them somewhere,” the 70’s hair kid said, with a look that was not entirely benevolent. “It doesn’t have to be back where they came from.” “Now, now,” the old guy answered. “We’ve got eternity to get rid of them. There’s no sense in rushing things and being sloppy.” “Eternity?!” Winston cried out. “I don’t mean to hurry you guys or anything, but I had plans between now and eternity.” “I have to let the cat out,” Ray added. “I have a non-thriving mold culture that needs to be moved into the incubator,” Egon said. “Oh, well, you should have said so,” the old guy said. “Of course we can achieve the impossible for the sake of your mold. Force forbid anything should happen to that.” “That’s just great,” Venkman said, “sarcasm from the dead. As if I didn’t take enough crap from living people.” “You know, it’s a lot harder to move living people from one dimension to another,” said the 70’s hair kid. “We could arrange to fix that problem for you.” “I strongly suggest that you leave your weapons in the custody of Chewbacca, cease making advances toward an armed and clearly-uninterested young lady, and go and have a drink somewhere,” the old guy said. “You are surrounded by individuals it is unwise to annoy, and a premature introduction to eternity is entirely possible.” Venkman considered his options and said, “I think you’re right. A drink sounds fabulous.” “Me too,” said Winston. “I’ll take a drink over an introduction to eternity any day.” The acid-dream people formed something like a wary armed guard as the Ghostbusters were herded toward the monkey bears’ surprisingly impressive stash of liquor casks. Not everyone was happy about the situation. “But I really do have to let the cat out,” Ray said plaintively. “And I don’t drink,” Egon said. “I’m sure they’ve got water,” said the plasma-gun toting general. “No—I mean I don’t drink,” Egon said. “I’ve been conducting experiments on myself. For the last eighteen days I’ve ingested nothing but cacti and raw termites. It’s part of my ongoing attempts to study the effects of extreme conditions on the human psyche.” “Once he went through one-and-a-half dryer cycles before we found him and pulled him out,” Venkman said. “It was the only 1+ g-force test chamber I could get myself into for under two dollars,” Egon said defensively. The general glanced back and forth between them, looking confused. “Are you guys sure you aren’t Wedge’s ground crew?” he asked. ************ End -----signature----- "Once upon a time, again." --Onoto, NaNoWriMo entry
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DarthIshtar Title: Former CR Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 7/2/06 12:14am Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	OH, that was just so wrong on so many levels, especially Venkman/Leia and kateydidnt is giving me very weird looks because I've been convulsing with silent laughter for about 3 minutes straight now. What happens if one of those things hits you?” Ray asked. "You die," was Egon's disheartening response. Ray looked to be considering a full mental breakdown when they were unexpectedly spared by a man shouting in a slurred voice. “Hey—hey, hey! Cut it out! You kids put those toys away ‘fore you hurt somebody.” “At least they speak English,” Venkman said. “They can’t be all bad.” “Gozer spoke English,” Egon pointed out. “You know, comments like that are not helpful,” Venkman answered. His thin veneer of sanity finally seemed to be cracking, and his voice rose as he spoke. “We’ve had this conversation before. If you cannot say something nice . . .” -----signature----- "I feel like a more down-to-earth Pink 5 when I'm writing Leah. Same attitude, less lip gloss." ~Me on how to get in the right mindset for Twilight fanfic.
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GrUnT_HUNTER Registered: May '04	Date Posted: 7/2/06 1:48am Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	Oh... my... god... I love you. I love you for writing this. This made me laugh more than anything I've ever read on the internet. I... love you. -----signature----- The Fading Light, in progress - http://boards.theforce.net/Before_the_Saga/b10475/17937395/?7 The Gold Palpy Society is evil, Anakin! A good story: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=21924236&start=21958846
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Fanficfan Registered: Jul '05	Date Posted: 7/2/06 3:16am Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	You and blindman should get together Ophelia. I'd love to see the product of combining both of your seriously twisted minds. -----signature----- Such a sweet little boy, so innocent, Who would of guessed he'd grow into... A bloody cry baby, And a wife basher.
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Jade_Max Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 7/2/06 3:24am Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	The little green thing showed up and poked a translucent cane at the Ghostbusters. “And shoot proton streams at us you should not! Our dimension this is. Intruders we are not. Shoot proton streams at you, did we, when showed up uninvited, you did?” Ray just blinked at him as if a bulb had burnt out in his brain. “I have . . . no idea what you just said,” he told the glowing greenish thing. “Could you try that again, only with the words in the . . . uhh . . . usual order?” “He said that he’s mad,” Winston translated. “Ah,” Ray said, seeming to make the connection with the attempt to put the cranky, backward-talking creature in a ghost trap. “Sorry about the . . . um, proton thing.” What a delightful little piece of humor! This was just too, too funny Ohpelia, you made my night! -----signature----- You'll Like me when I'm Dead - V/P Dark Drama - http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/29236355 Don't think, write. And have faith that your subconscious mind is smarter than you.- lazy RIP my little Nibbler
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ophelia Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 7/2/06 9:29am Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly. - Date Edited: 7/2/06 9:53am (1 edits total) Edited By: ophelia
	Ish wrote: OH, that was just so wrong on so many levels, especially Venkman/Leia You know, I hadn't thought about that, but that may be the worst pairing I've ever run across in Star Wars. That's worse than two Hutts. What's even scarier is that in RL Carrie Fisher was engaged to Dan Ackroyd for a short while. Imagine Ray/Leia. No wait--don't. Also, as far as I know, CF was never actually romantically involved with John Belushi, but they hung out together a lot, and she played his insane ex-girlfriend in "The Blues Brothers." Also, Belushi was originally supposed to play Venkman, although he died before "Ghostbusters" got to the production stage. Anyway, Leia and the Ghostbusters crowd would definitely find "something familiar" about each other. (". . . Leia, do you remember doing drugs in the 70's? The real 70's?") GrUnT_HUNTER: You love me? I thought that we had decided not to fall in love . . . that it would destroy us. Seriously, though, thank you. This made me laugh more than anything I've ever read on the internet. I wish I could give you a link to "Jedi at the Gate" by Chat Noir, but it's got PG+ content in it (curse words and too-silly-to-be-real sexual innuendoes), so I can't. I read that back in 1999, and I still think its the funniest SW thing on the web. Fanficfan: You make me miss BlindMan. I had to go revisit "Short Attention Span Theater," just because. "The Vader Monologues" probably come right after "Jedi at the Gate" on my list of hilarious SW stories. I still love "Anakin's" response to the Death Star being blown up: "Aww, man . . . all my stuff was there." I'm flattered by the comparison . . . BlindMan is/was hysterical. (He doesn't write anymore, does he?) Jade_Max wrote: Ohpelia, you made my night! And feedback always makes my day, so we're even. Thank you. Thanks very much for taking the time to read and reply, guys. I appreciate your taking a chance on something this weird. (P.S. That image is actually some kind of Star Trek object--I don't know what. I also don't know how I got from there to Venkman/Leia. Ish is right . . . that is just wrong . . .) -----signature----- "Once upon a time, again." --Onoto, NaNoWriMo entry
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Noelie Registered: Jul '05	Date Posted: 7/2/06 9:31am Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	This was so seriously funny. funny is never wrong -----signature----- The relationship that has been created in this unique universe is so memorable, and so beautiful. It makes the heart ache. As far as I'm concerned, it's canon.~Ratna on the Noelaverse Proud member of the UPR
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DarthIshtar Title: Former CR Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 7/2/06 10:56am Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	Half of the reason for me laughing hysterically was the John Belushi's girlfriend thing because I'm a huge fan of Blues Brothers. -----signature----- "I feel like a more down-to-earth Pink 5 when I'm writing Leah. Same attitude, less lip gloss." ~Me on how to get in the right mindset for Twilight fanfic.
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Healer_Leona Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 7/3/06 4:27pm Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	Truly brilliant and inspired. You had the Ghostbusters down pat and I love the monkey bears!!! I'm now tired from laughing. I saw the title and thought no way, she did not do a crossover with Ghostbusters. It works better than I could have every imagined! -----signature----- To me, you're strange and you're beautiful, You'd be so perfect with me but you just can't see, You turn every head but you don't see me.
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Persephone_Kore Registered: Jan '06	Date Posted: 7/10/06 7:53pm Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	Have died laughing. Please do not ghost-trap me. Hee. I'm not very familiar with Ghostbusters -- just kind of have the general idea in passing -- but the SW characters are done so well and the combination is hysterical. -----signature----- Protégé: Chosen: http://boards.theforce.net/f/b1/28612428 A Rose in the Ashes: http://boards.theforce.net/f/b1/29028814 Lost Ones: http://boards.theforce.net/f/b1/29061459 Morality and the Sith Apprentice: http://boards.theforce.net/f1/b1/27581326
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TigerofRobare Registered: Jan '06	Date Posted: 7/20/06 12:00pm Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	That was especterlly hilarious. -----signature----- Darth Hipster--Vader becomes a hippie!: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=27316525&brd=10476 Tu ne cede malis--Do not give in to evil, but procede against it ever more boldly. UMass-Amherst class of 2011!
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Idrelle_Miocovani Title: Solar Power loving Scattergories Hostess Registered: Feb '05	Date Posted: 7/20/06 5:41pm Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	ophelia, you're my hero for actually writing something like this!!! That was... insane. Absolutely insane! I can't stop laughing; Dad thinks I'm choking or something. “Orlando?” Winston said softly, shooting a confused look at Ray. “This is supposed to be Florida?” That struck me as particularly funny. Actually, it was all funny, hence the reason I'm dying from laughter right now. -----signature----- "Can I just run by my battle cry?" "As you run, as you fight the evil Lord Vader—" "I'll turn on my lightsaber, look him straight in the helmet and, to make you proud, I will yell out 'the Canadians are coming, the Canadians are coming!'" Ish's Padawan
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whiskers Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 7/20/06 6:57pm Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	This is the funniest thing I've read in a while! Loved the Blues Brothers references when calling Leia "John Belushi's Girlfriend." -----signature----- R.I.P. E. Gary Gygax Thank you for D&D
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Golden_Jedi Registered: Jun '05	Date Posted: 7/20/06 7:06pm Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	"Okay, you take the slimer,” he said. “Thanks,” said Egon, with the enthusiasm of a man being handed a dead snail. "Winston, you take the old guy,” Venkman continued, “and I'll take the kid with the bad 70's hair. Ray . . . you provide backup . . . and see if you can’t keep that little green thing from sliming me, okay? Thanks for the good laugh! -----signature----- New Bespin Café - come visit THE place for H/L fans http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_resource/b10304/29538471 My Name is Leia Alderaania - Dear Diary Challenge http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/29650795
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BrentusofGath Registered: Aug '05	Date Posted: 1/13/07 6:23pm Subject: RE: Ghostbusters vs. Dead Jedi -- Humor, AU, X-Over, one-shot. Very silly.
	"If there were 1,000-foot trees down by the East River, I'd have noticed." "We should only have followed an eyeless hearse driver with fully legal and current license plates." "we're trapped on the wrong side of a dimensional portal, we're surrounded by monkey bears, and we're definitely not going to make our nine o'clock at Frobisher's Drycleaning." He seemed to consider a moment. Finally he said, "I say we blast 'em." So, so Venkman!! X 12,