Saga Admiral Ozzel and the Temple of Doom (AU Ozzel/Tarkin/Battle of Yavin 4/As Bad As It Sounds)

Title: Admiral Ozzel and The Temple of Doom?
Author: oqidaun
Timeframe: ANH
Genre: Craptastic AU / Fluff-Slayer Slightly Sadistic Challenge 4
Dedication: Rock On, Ozzel! \m/
Summary: Getting the hell out of Dodge?

Prologue/Introductory Material

Scene according to Papa George:
INTERIOR: DEATH STAR -- CONTROL ROOM.
Grand Moff Tarkin and a Chief Officer stand in the Death Star's control room.

OFFICER: We've analyzed their attack, sir, and there is a danger. Should I have your ship standing by?

TARKIN: Evacuate? In our moment of triumph? I think you over estimate their chances!


Scene according to oqidaun?s craptastic AU:
INTERIOR: DEATH STAR -- CONTROL ROOM.
Grand Moff Tarkin and Admiral Ozzel stand in the Death Star's control room.

OZZEL: We've analyzed their attack, sir, and there is a danger.

TARKIN: No way! Really?

OZZEL: Yes sir, chances are we?re about to get blown into fiery bite sized chunks.

TARKIN: Poodoo.

OZZEL: I was just thinking the same thing, sir.

Moments before the Death Star? exploded into billions of tiny bits; Tarkin and Ozzel crammed their bodies and bloated egos into a standard Imperial escape pod and plummeted toward the forested face of Yavin 4. The tiny capsule, made with pride for the Empire by the lowest bidder, came to an abrupt stop at the base of an imposing ancient Temple of Doom?.

Eight and a half minutes after their arrival, Tarkin succumbed to the temptations of the Dark Side emanating from the Temple of Doom?. Twisted by the Dark Side, he ceased to be the evil Grand Moff Wilhuf Tarkin and became the evil Sith Lord Darth Not-So-Nice. Always a poor student in history and a bit blind to the obvious, Tarkin confused the Sith with the Highlander Saga. He declared that, ?There can be only One!? and made Ozzel his mortal slave. Had he known more about the Sith he could have made Ozzel his apprentice; which ironically was also like being a slave, but with a nifty title and an opportunity for facial tattoos and a red sword. Already Ozzel was his lieutenant and that too was a bit like being a slave, but with a cool uniform, shiny boots and a set of those rockin? code cylinders. (Author?s Note: *shrug*)

Ultimately, Ozzel?s station in life changed very little under Darth Not-So-Nice, but here?s his story anyway?

Admiral Ozzel and The Temple of Doom?

Oh dear, I hope he didn?t see that. I narrowly escape burning the ends off my fingers attempting to pick the large grasshopper out of Tar?Darth Not-So-Nice?s scrambled eggs. Despite my efforts and blistered fingers, I am unable to recover more than half of the insect. As I am a perfectionist, one of those ?all or nothing? beings, I drop the green gooey thing back into the eggs and hope that instead of producing convulsions and death, it?s merely a good source of protein.

I approach the Galaxy?s newest Dark Lord of the Sith with caution. He?s quite mad, you see. If I?m not subservient enough he chases me around the inside of this incredibly dank Temple of Doom? we call home, holding his hands out like a zombie making this inane ?zapping? noise all the while informing me that I am a victim of his Force Lightning. If I?m a victim of anything, it?s circumstance. I should have gone to work for the Bureau of Urban Maintenance?at least I?d have a union card, a forty hour week and a working chrono.

Crouching down best I can with a bum hip, courtesy of a misguided youthful dare that I could wedge my body through the end of a tennis racket, I place the plate of incredible inedible eggs before my ?master?. I don?t really know if one can eat lizard eggs on a regular basis without some long term gastrointestinal damage. However, logistically speaking, if Darth Not-So-Nice continues to eat the locally supplied lizard eggs the two-man forty day supply of MREs from the escape pod becomes an eighty day Ozzel supply. It sounds a bit harsh and perhaps even intolerant to t

 

Fluff's challenges result in great entries...

Once again, I burst out laughing at the Death Star's trademark.

Darth Not-So-Nice

"Mere moments ago, I accidentally cracked his skull in a rush to fulfill the ?cure insomnia/break something? requirements of the challenge in one fell swoop.?

This was just one side-splitter after another. Excellent work!

 

living like Hutts sans the scantily clad Twi?Lek girls, mind altering drugs and abundance of green bodily slime.


Tarkin became a Sith in the name of cheap comedy and some really lame Highlander jokes

Great cheez factor. Had me chuckling all the way through. Fun stuff!

 

I smack him in the forehead with the frying pan. There is a disturbing crunching noise and the Sith Lord goes down for the count. Although it might appear to the contrary, I did not mean to crack his skull. Well, at least I have cured his insomnia albeit permanently.

(the following line really had me cracking up....)
?And you, what are you doing here? I didn?t know you were assigned to the Death Star.?

?It?s an AU scenario.?
WHAT EXACTLY DID THIS CHALLENGE ENTAIL ?!?


You do realize it's "out-of character" for you oqidaun, which is what makes it so funny....

 

Correllian_Ale: Follow the link at the top to Fluff-Slayer's Sadistic Challenges. These not are challenges for the faint of heart. Try one...

PadawanKayla: The Twi'Lek line was the funniest, I thought.

Exeter: Glad I made you laugh.

 

Eww! Grasshopper!

The frying-pan had a decidedly old-cartoon ring about it...

And I noticed that the Ghost of the Guunga Fruit has reared its fruity head once more.

Nothing gets past me! I'm slick!

lol... Ah, oqi...

 

Loved it!

 

That was brilliant! The entire thing had me cracking up!

I leave the babbling agent of evil arguing with the remains of his meal that he?s now dubbed Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez.

 

Egads, this was wonderful. And once again, I am amazed and astounded by your ability to pull off these challenges with such amusing results. I'm always looking forward to them now.


he tore his sleeves off and started wearing a tarpaulin like a kilt.

The mental image here is almost too much. I nearly choked on my tea.


The words hurled me back into a third person limited omniscience narrative.

 

oqi, you always make me crack up with your "muppet-quality" humour. I enjoyed this a great deal, a good way to cap off my day.

 

living like Hutts sans the scantily clad Twi?Lek girls, mind altering drugs and abundance of green bodily slime.

I loved that one, among countless others.

This is brilliant! Thanks for the laugh!

 

Just found this -- I don't know how it escaped my notice before, but I suppose it's because it came in right around the long weekend.

I don't know how you keep replying to these challenges in such twisted but rib-achingly-funny ways. Just know that I got several odd looks from people here at work when I burst out laughing at inopportune moments.

You're a sick puppy -- my hat's off to you!

 

How did I miss this? Oh yeah, I was moving...Thanks GAV for bringin' it up! Too friggin funny oqidaun! I loved the whole thing. Your sick humor exceeds my own I think. Great job!

 

JediMindTrick000: I'm quite proud of my sick humor.
GAV: This even escaped my notice, I actually forgot about it. Yes, I am a sick puppy.
JOINME: That was definitely one of my fave lines.
DWH: Are you calling me a muppet? If so, you're not the first.
Lindemacil: I'm glad you didn't choke on your tea, no one deserves that.
Fluffy: Tasty grasshoppers! Now that's good cooking.
VaderLVR:
Jedi_of_Ennth: Glad you enjoyed the funneh! Welcome to my sick little world.

 

Good Lord. Almost four months ago, I'd been considering doing a challenge, and ended up landing in this very thread, reading this very vig. If it wasn't for this little gem, I would have never heard a' ya, probably. Because this made me curious enough to check your profile, which brought me invaribly into 'Burn', and ultimately made your OC thread catch my eye.

And I just discovered that I never actually posted a response here.

Crazy.

 

Crazy stuff! I'll never look at Admiral Ozzel and Moff tarkin the same again! *imagines Tarkin in a kilt with his chicken legs*