Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

by Rain (antaia@earthlink.net)


ARCHIVE: M_A. Anyone else, just ask.

CATEGORY: Humor/Parody, DMS (see Notes)

SUMMARY: An invention gone awry leads to a new twist on a familiar scene.

WARNINGS: This is a DMS fic, which means that a master dies (see Notes). Outrageous silliness abounds. Spoilers for TPM (like you haven't seen it at LEAST a dozen times already).

NOTES: This started off as a response to 2 challenges: the "I'm a Jedi, not a..." challenge (but it quickly outstripped 150 words) and a challenge from Master Yogie. This is a DMS (Dead Masters Society) fic, which means a master dies.

After Master Yo-Gurt gave Qui-Gon a gruesome death in one of her 150 word stories (HE CHOKED ON OBI-WAN'S PENIS!!!), she challenged me to write a similar story. This fic is the result. Same concept as the Dead Padawan Society, only it's the masters that get toasted in new and creative ways. Please, take a stab at this (literally and figuratively). Both Yogie and I would like to see this idea take off.

FEEDBACK: Please. I'm not above begging. On or off list at antaia@earthlink.net.

Special thanks to Master Yogie, who challenged me, encouraged me, and praised the results. *HUGS!*


"I'm a Jedi, not a Chia Pet, Qui-Gon!"

"This will work, Mace, I'm sure of it. So just sit still for a minute."

"But I like myself bald! I have no hair on purpose! Just because you have luxurious Pantene hair doesn't mean I should, too!"

Qui-Gon made the finishing touches, etching red and black lines on his friend's head and face to mark the areas that would be "treated."

"Just shush, Mace. If you don't like it, you can always shave it off."

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Don't be a spoilsport. If this works, we'll both make millions!"

"Yeah, and then we'll have to give it all back to the Temple. We took a vow of poverty, remember?"

"Even if we have to give all the money back to the Temple, we'll still be famous, Mace. And we'll be helping millions of people have better, more fulfilling social lives."

"Just get it over with, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon flipped the switch. A low hum filled the air as the Hair-O-Matic began to charge. Greenish light coalesced and shot out of the machine, aimed straight at Mace Windu's bald head.

Unfortunately, Qui-Gon had made a grave error in his designs by not including Mace's extraordinarily shiny scalp in his calculations. And now, in a terrible turn of fate, the laser beam ricocheted off Mace's reflective head and hit Qui-Gon full in the face.

Not meant for someone who already had a full head of hair, the beam's effects were spectacular on Qui-Gon's heavy mane. The hair he already had began to grow at a fantastic rate and new hair began to sprout, not only on the Jedi Master's head and face, but all over his body. It grew wildly, pulling Qui-Gon to the floor with its weight.

Mace watched in awe.

The overworked beam began to overheat and Qui-Gon thrashed, trying to get out of its path. His foot caught on the base of the Hair-O-Matic, destabilizing it and causing it to wobble dangerously. Back and forth it tipped until it finally toppled, its descent halted by the mountain of Qui-Gon and his hair. Qui-Gon continued to thrash, shouting incoherently, and a lock of his rapunzellian hair snarled on the Hair-O-Matic's control mechanism.

He jerked his head to the left and a little red switch caught on his hair and flipped. The laser beam changed from green to angry red, spearing Qui-Gon through the chest. He stopped thrashing.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Obi-Wan Kenobi burst through the door and knelt at his master's side.

"Ouch," Qui-Gon wheezed. "Pulling... my hair..." he choked out. Obi-Wan, a mortified look on his face, wriggled his knees to the side and took his master's head in his hands.

"Master... don't leave me..." Tears began to spill over his cheeks.

"Obi-Wan..."

"Yes, Master."

"Promise me..." Qui-Gon shifted his head. "Promise me you'll tr... tr...ACK! ACK, ACK!" Over the course of his shifting, Qui-Gon had managed to inhale a mouthful of hair and was fighting valiantly to expel it.

"ACK!" Qui-Gon's eyes dropped shut as his heart faltered and stopped, his breathing halted by the hairball in his throat.

Obi-Wan sobbed, inconsolable.


"Seen his death, I have. Many dreams, I have had." Yoda poked sadly at the hairy mass with his gimmer stick. "A red lightsaber, I thought I saw, but extinct the Sith are. Mistaken, I may have been."

Mace nodded, his red-and-black painted face grim. Everyone knew the Sith were extinct, and he could think of no other deadly red beams. Except, of course, for the Hair-O-Matic.

"Mauled to death, I thought he would be." Yoda paused and sighed. "Not your fault, Mace. His destiny, Qui-Gon has met."

The two Jedi masters stood in silence by their comrade's body. As he gazed at his hairy friend, Mace desperately hoped Qui-Gon would disincorporate. He really wasn't sure he could stand seeing his friend's body laid out on a pyre, and he really hated the smell of burning hair.

End.