Master
Apprentice  Archive
O Come, All Ye Jedi
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In honor of this Festive Season, I offer a wee tale in The Storyteller Universe. Either run away now or read on... <g>
Series: The Storyteller (16/?)
Pairing: Q/O
Category: Humor, AU, Romance
Rating: G to PG
Archive: MA and Padder's. Anyone else, just ask.
Warnings: This is on the heavy side of skewed. Beware!
Spoilers: None.
Summary: A traditional symbol of the Holiday Season is missing. Who will rescue it?
Feedback: Yes, please. Always welcome!
Disclaimer: These characters belong to George Lucas, the great and powerful. I am giving them a little fun and make no monies ever.
Note: Several Chrismas carols were coerced into service in this cheerful mockery. They are, in order of mangled appearance: Good King Wenceslas, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, Good Christian Men Rejoice, Deck the Halls, and Joy to the World. Feel free to yodel at will...
"The meaning of this is what, Master P'Tits? See the Yoolie Bushe, I do not!" Little Green Yoda curled his little green toes and glared at the creature before him.
Zhorlu P'Tits was the youngest Master ever to be in charge of setting up the Yoolie Bushe and, as such, he'd been far more a bundle of nerves than his usual passle of flagella. He now waved several of his best at Little Green Yoda and huffed through his nose, "Me know this all darn too much. No helping, you poppy up and down. Yoolie Bushe mosey, poof! Big gone!" The primary flagella at either side of his thorax gripped each other tightly. "Poof away poof! No trace of sticky needles, no goo of tree poo! Gone! As me!" Master P'Tits whirled three times round and scuttled off in the direction of the Master's Lounge, where Semolina Ripple awaited his nearly prostrate self.
Little Green Yoda gnashed his teeth, aiming a furious whack at a passing servomec. The traditional Festival of Hrap Ittup wasn't complete without the Yoolie Bushe. Dang! whack! Dang, dang, dang!
With a tiny growl, he zipped across the floor of the Big Gym. Only One Pair of Heroes could solve this mystery and discover what miscreant had skedaddled with the Yoolie Bushe. Eyes crossed, robe hiked, Little Green Yoda sailed desperately down the halls and corridors of the Great Jedi Temple in search of the Daring Duo.
It didn't take long...
whack! "Yoolie Bushe! Yoolie Bushe!" Spittle whorling madly, Little Green Yoda jumped up and down on The Mighty Jinn's lap. "Gone! Gone damn gone!"
Qui-Gon ducked as the Mark IV Gimmer Stick pursued his right eyeball. "Your wish..." duck "...is my..." duck "...Hey!"
"Find it you will!" whack! "Now damn now!"
The Harried Master managed a desperate squeak. "...Padawan..."
With a cheerful whoop, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Handy Apprentice to the Mighty Qui-Gon Jinn, sprang six feet in the air, the deadly weapon that was his hand expertly flicking the Jelly Belly Bonbon directly into Little Green Yoda's mouth, thus sealing same for a guaranteed forty-five minutes.
The Mighty Jinn quickly hoiked the madly chewing green bundle onto a convenient hook behind the door and with a whoosh and a holler, he and the Perky Padawan were on their way to the Temple Hanger where awaited their trusty transport to parts and perils unknown...
Mighty Qui-Gon Jinn looked out
On the Battle raging.
With his Doughty Padawan
The Enemy engaging.
Bright their sabers, keen their eyes,
With the Bad Guys duelin'.
Of all Heroes, they're the best.
Sing we and no foolin'.
Readouts twinkling, buttons flashing, The Turgid Triumph whizzed at top speed through the infinite vacuum of Space.
"Quickly, Padawan. Which way?"
The trail of Radiometric Flicker Particles glowed straight and true on the Hazomatic Telescreen. "That way, Master. We've got them now!"
Far ahead of Our Heroes, the Tellibubby Special chug, chug, chugged it way on a course for Wiewie Prime. Inside the porky transport, Pnadbern Splinter sang a happy song, for he was a happy Splirg. And a happy Splirg is a mean Splirg. And a mean Splirg gets riled when he don't have no chewy to chew.
But this Splirg, this happy Splirg, now had, by virtue of a slight of hand performance some high-in-the-instep might call pilfering, a truly wondrous supply of chewy goo.
Ah, yes. This was indeed a happy Splirg.
Into the night of Space raced The Turgid Triumph.
squitch, squitch, squitch
"Padawan, look!"
"Yes, Master! Sticky needle bits! We'll find 'em now!"
Pnadbern Splinter chuckled with the kind of chuckle only the Baddest of Splirgs makes. This crusty laugh made the very bones of the bridge crackle. And way in the back of the ship, deep in a corner of the dank, musty Hold, trembling branches shivered their needles onto the damp, dark floor...
Through the infinite vacuum of Space whooshed The Turgid Triumph.
splat! split-splat!
"Obi-Wan!"
"Yes, Master! Tree poo! We're on 'em now!"
Pnadbern Splinter aimed one of his sharpest teeth at the glob of aromatic goo in his hand and skewered it first go. Mmmm! Sharp! Tangy! Sinus-blowing! And the chewability was just, just...well! P. Splinter knew a good thing when he'd found it.
Smack in the middle of the infinite night of vacuum-filled Space, The Turgid Triumph skidded to a stop.
Crash! Gnnnnrrrll! Whonk! Sthing...!
"Obi-Wan, would I be safe in saying 'We found it?'"
The Proud Padawan smiled. "After you, Master."
His tiny, fat Tellibubby Special clutched tightly in the jaws of a Jedi ShipWanker, the bewildered, bejiggled Splirg watched as a double whirlwind slammed through his airlock, spinning his expensive toupee full circle. As he opened his mouth to shout the vilest of goo-bespattered epithets at these ship-jumpers, he espied the dangerously serious shimmer hovering under his chin.
"Tell you what, little Splirgy thief. You go home to Wiewie and leave the Bushe to us. Okay?"
P. Splinter shifted from one foot to the other to the other and swallowed. "Yunck! on you, you prancy Jedi! Take thet siller Bushe but I'll run back on a day you cannot count, yeh? See if I doesn't. Just cuz'n you tallish and biggin' and manly and..."
sssshhhhhhhwhop! Something landed smack in the center of the Splirg's sputtering mouth, filling his tongue and clutching his teeth. Something thick and gooey and sweet and chewy and absolutely, satisfyingly delicious. He moved his jaws and started rolling the thing around, from front the back and in between, a big smile growing between his eyes.
With something akin to awe, he watched the two Jedi haul the Yoolie Bushe out of his ship and into their own. Just before they shut the airlock, a small piece of paper drifted onto the bridge. Chewing and drooling, Pnadbern Splinter bent over for a look. Scrawled in Universal Script across the top of the page were the words Jelly Belly Bonbons...
Harken to the Jedi Creed.
Come what may, we do our Deed.
In a group or single file.
War and mayhem reconciled.
Joyful, swords and mercantile.
Join appendages and smile.
When the sabers 'round you swing,
Jedi come to bring you Peace.
Hark and let us in the door.
Jedi now and evermore.
And so the Turgid Triumph came racing across the Galaxy, its Hold stuffed full with the precious Yoolie Bushe.
And throughout the burbs and split-levels of Coruscant, the good news rang. Time for feast! Time for frolic! Time for indiscretion and leaving the beds unmade!
And high atop the Stupendous Jedi Temple, in the cushy solemnity that was the Chamber of Comfy Chairs, rang the fine old bongs of choral eructation, whose contrapuntal possibilities must always prove boundless in a Joyous Time such as this.
Good Jedi all rejoice
With heart and soul and voice.
Sing we of the Force today.
Ooom.
Ooom.
Every Temple rise with cheer
To celebrate the coming year.
We sing the Force today.
Sing the Force today.
Far into the night, after the last present had been yawped at and the twelve-part chorus had bonged its last, Peace settled upon the world of the Jedi. And a rather Splendid sort of Peace it was. One that reeked of Jee Osfatt Tea, Brekki Snaps, and Chocci Pots laced with Old Blown Jug.
And deep in the innermost, Innermost of Sanctums, a tired but happy voiced burbled its way into the sated silence.
"Padawan, may I have another?"
The Perfect Padawan grinned and snapped the lid from a brand new six-pack of Ferd's Slickin' Best, Economy Case Holiday Special. "Of course, Master Mine. Shall it be a visit from Big Nick this time? Or perhaps..." Maysarc Honey would have blushed at the sound of that voice. "...a sail on the Good Ship Lollipop..."
"Um...um..." The Mighty Qui-Gon Jinn took a moment to breathe. "...can I...can I have... both...?"
Halls and quarters fill with jollies.
Tra la la la la, la la la la.
Plenty goodies, lots of gollies.
Tra la la la la, la la la la.
Come we joyous, best of buddies.
Tra la la, la la la, la la la.
Would you like to's, yes I would'ies.
Tra la la la la, la la.. la... laaaaa.
And so lift ye now your voices and sing. Merry and loud, our caroling. For isn't it time to celebrate? With flagons drunk and banquets ate?
Ha! Damn right...
ahem
Joy to us all, the Jedi come
In story and in 'zine.
The Galaxy is sure
Forever they'll endure.
With visages serene,
In robes all spanky clean,
In Peace, for Peace, with sabers keen.
Happy Holidays!