Speederspotting

by PlotBinkie and Briony, (smutcutter@aol.com & hippediva@aol.com)

DISCLAIMER: George owns Obi and Qui - John Hodge wrote the script we've ripped off. We own nothing. We get nothing.

PAIRING: Q/O

CATEGORY: POV monolgue parody

WARNING: abject silliness

RATING: R (for language)

FEEDBACK: Will keep us deluging you with this stuff :)

SUMMARY: Obi-Wan thinks about his master listening to Iggy Pop.

(Obi-Wan late for a council meeting, booking it like mad down a long hallway, cd player headphones in his ears, Iggy blaring)

Choose the Force. Choose a Jedi. Choose the Republic. Choose the Creche. Choose a big fucking Holo-Screen. Choose Freshers, Speeders, Data Pads, Electric Droid Repair Kits. Choose Peace and Serenity, Vegetarianism, and Sith insurance. Choose a 2 story Courscant walk up. Choose the Jedi Temple. Choose the Knights.

Choose Jedi Robes and matching light saber. Choose Ikea style furnishings on a lease plan in a range of fucking metallics. Choose the lower sub levels and hoping you haven't fucking grown horns by Sunday morning. Choose sitting in the chamber listening to mind numbing, spirit crushing council sessions, stuffing gourmet veggies into your mouth. Choose fading into the Force at the end of it all, disappearing in a flash of light, nothing less than a hero to the selfish, fucked up Padawans you've trained to replace yourself.

Choose Yoda's predictions. Choose the Force.

But why would I want to do a thing like that?

I chose not to choose the Force. I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got Qui-Gon Jinn.

People think its all about heroism and peace and saving the Galaxy, which is not to be ignored. But what they forget is the sex. Otherwise I wouldn't do it. After all, I'm not fucking stupid. At least, not that fucking stupid.