Droid Problems (A humorous Obi and Qui story)

Title: Droid Problems
Timline: before Phantom Menace
Summary: Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are met with a problem when their droid begins to malfunction.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, unfortunately.
Note: This story is kinda weird, I wrote it with no intention of it actually being serious. In this story, both Obi and Qui (the names they call each other)are ridulously stupid. Obi-Wan acts like a little kid, and Qui-Gon is really old and fat. And also, they always try to kill eachother.

Obi sat on the windowsill in his living quarters at the Jedi Temple, lazily gazing at the city planet of Coruscant. He knew better than to be near an open window, knowing that his master always tried to push him off, but the young padawan just couldn't resist seeing the beautiful sunset.
Then came a loud, earth shatttering force, like the stomping of a giant's feet. Qui-Gon Jinn, the beastly man who trained Obi-Wan, wadddled into the room, having to squeeze his girth through the tight fitting doorway.
"Oh, hi master!" Obi-Wan greeted, cautiously dismounting the windowsill before his master could push him off again. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"What am I doing here? I'm your master! I'm here to teach you stuff!" he said, cementing his hands to his hips and weaing a frown on his wrinkled face.
"Oh," Obi-Wan said,"I's just that you've never tried to actually teach me anything before, you were always away on some mission..." Qui-Gon smiled nervously, sweat dripping down his leathery forehead. For years he said he had been going to a mission, which actually meant he was off to get drunk at some bar.
"Well, anyways. Today you're going to learn how to fix a droid..." he said, leading his apprentice into another room. In the middle of the room, a small astromech droid sat surrounded by tools and it's own parts that had been taken out of it. "Now, you have five minutes. Repair the droid, and I'll be watching T.V.... I mean monitoring your progress."
As the five minutes passed Obi-Wan tirelessly worked away at the dorid, putting the peices back where they went like a jigsaw puzzle. And as he did that, his master sprawled across the couch and began to snore loudly.
Finally, the boy had finished, except that one peice of the dorid was missing. Frustrated that he could not complete his task,Obi-Wan angrily stomped over to his napping master.
"Master!" he barked, "You lost a spark plug, I can't finish up the dorid!" Qui-Gon slowly opened his eyes, straining to even see his student in fornt of him.
"What?" he asked, yawning.
"This droid's spark plug is missing! You lost it and now I can't fix the droid!" he shouted, turing red in the face. His master obviously didn't see the problem, yawning and returning to his slumber. "Master!" he yelled, throwing his fists in the air, "I need that spark plug so I can get on with the repairs!"
Qui-Gon sat back up, a casual smile on his face still. "So what? I'm not the one who lost it..." He sat back down, but again Obi-Wan exploded with rage.
"Yes you did! Now go and find it!"
"You don't even need it," he said, not even bothering to sit up.
"I do need it, to complete this training session. Don't you even care whether I finish?" he asked, with great, big puppy dog eyes. Surprisingly enough, Qui-Gon didn't administer a series of punches to his padawan's head like he usually would. Instead, he began to laugh a long, hearty, chorttle. Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow, confused by his master's rather odd actions.
"Like I care! The only reason that I'm your master is because those slimy rats at the Jedi Council made me keep you. I actually wanted to sell you as slave labor years ago..." Qui-Gon turned, now facing the wall to show that he no longer wished to talk to the boy.
"Really?" he inquired, pouting his lower lip. Qui-Gon groaned, turning to face his padawan again.
"No, not really," he said, crossing his fingers behind his back. afterall, wouldn't want to let the cat out of the bag, can we? "Okay, if I recall... The spark plug was in m

 

I think it sucks. I hope you're arrested for your severe crappiness, and sentenced to death in some terrible, bug-infested island...

 

Gee, I think you suck, you giant wad of crap... Don't make me sick Benoit on you...

 

You're a freakin' idiot...

And you need a signature, moron

 

As are you, my itty bitty pady-baby!

Oh, and is this signature good enough, bozo? [face_laughing]

 

d'oh!