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Somewhere aboard the resistance cruiser, as blaster fire echoes in the distance:
“Curse this new Windows update,” Asher-P0 exclaimed mentally, “now I’m seeing things!” Looking down the long, smoke-filled corridor, Asher was quite sure he could make out a shapely humanoid form, dressed completely in black, squatting down in front of UR-D2. “Better adjust screen resolution,” he reasoned. His video display blacked-out briefly, then wobbled slightly as his eyes regained focus. The strange humanoid creature was gone and UR-D2 was moving toward him. “Ahh…much better!” he thought.
Asher: Well it’s about time! They’re headed this way. What should we do?! We’ll be sent to the data mines of Felch X, patched into who knows what. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life programming HTML for gay porn sites! Hey, you’re ignoring me again, aren’t you?
(UR just keeps rolling down the corridor past Asher to an empty escape pod where he attempts to interface)
Asher: (rolls eyes) Oh, why bother? You’re not compatible with that. It’s hardcoded. You’ll hang the system for sure!
(UR beeps contemptuously at Asher as the pod door slides open; UR crawls inside.)
Asher: Don’t call me a mindless Gates lackey, you over-hyped UNIX box. I bet you can’t even get a decent game of Pong going on that thing.
(UR warbles for Asher to get in.)
Asher: Secret mission? What plans? What warez site have you been downloading from this time?! I’m not getting in there!!
(Suddenly a blaster bolt explodes right above Asher’s head. He wisely decides not to argue the point and climbs into the pod.)
Asher: I hate my life!
(The hatch slides shut and the pod rockets away from the ship.)
On the bridge of the Imperial battlecruiser, “I’m Super, Thanks for Asking!,” Captain Wittlich notices an escape pod spiraling away from the captured rebel ship:
Gunner: (wearing nothing but a leather thong) There goes another one!
Wittlich: (eyeing up his gunner’s backside) Hold your fire. There doesn’t appear to be any intelligent life aboard. And besides, these laser bolts are very expensive ya know, what with the recession and all.
Back inside the escape pod:
Asher: That’s funny. The damage looks a heck of a lot worse from out here. Perhaps I need to update my DirectX drivers.
(UR responds by emitting an electronic chortle.)
Asher: Just shut up!
(The escape pod tumbles towards the planet below.)
Aboard the “I’m Super, Thanks for Asking!,” the Gaylord Darth Redfern sat meditating in his private chamber, fantasizing about all those male rebel prisoners stripped down to their skivvies in the adjoining Play Room. Soon he would know them all. Soon he would demonstrate to them the true nature of the Force….
But first, what to do about this distressing news from Grand Admiral Godunov? If Stefu’s intelligence was correct, and it rarely wasn’t, then the Resistance had already deployed the paiktis22. It could be anywhere. It could even be somewhere on fubutooine right now, just waiting to BAM. And then…chaos! Redfern shuddered at the thought. Infusing it with the Fez I isotope certainly made paiktis a WMD—weapon of mass dysfunction. If bright and cheery order was to win the day, then the paiktis would have to be found and deactivated…for good this time. And with that thought, Redfern switched on the viewscreen to his right. The lovely face of Commander Firelad greeted him:
Redfern: Commander?
(Firelad greets the Gaylord with his right arm below the elbow across his chest, wrist hanging limp, then extending the arm out in front of him, keeping the wrist hanging limp—let’s refer to it as the gay-arm salute.
)
Firelad: Javol, mein Gaylord!
Redfern: (is not amused) Ok, cut that out! We’re the rulers of the Gaylaxy here, not a bunch of stale 1950s stereotypes. So start acting like it!
Firelad: (bows head in shame) Yes, master.
Redfern: Better.
Firelad: (brightens up a bit) You’ll be pleased to know that we’ve captured Princess Blackwidow. Also, the body of Lt. Spink has been taken to the Taxidermy deck for processing.
Redfern: Good work, Commander! See that she’s placed in the birdcage, gift-wrapped, and sent to the Grand Admiral immediately, with my compliments.
Firelad: It’ll be my pleasure, sir! Now he’ll have what he’s always wanted, although I can’t fathom why.
Redfern: I’m sure the Grand Admiral has his reasons. One more thing: President Starchild has summoned us right away to his Pride Star to confer with the Grand Admiral on how to deal with this paiktis menace.
Firelad: Aye?
Redfern: So lay in a course for Pride Star I and prepare to make the jump into Richard Simmons-space. Oh, and there’ll be no one to stop us this time…yadah, yadah, yadah!
Firelad: Yessir!
(The massive Imperial battlecruiser begins accelerating away from fubutooine.)
“Curse this new Windows update,” Asher-P0 exclaimed mentally, “now I’m seeing things!” Looking down the long, smoke-filled corridor, Asher was quite sure he could make out a shapely humanoid form, dressed completely in black, squatting down in front of UR-D2. “Better adjust screen resolution,” he reasoned. His video display blacked-out briefly, then wobbled slightly as his eyes regained focus. The strange humanoid creature was gone and UR-D2 was moving toward him. “Ahh…much better!” he thought.
Asher: Well it’s about time! They’re headed this way. What should we do?! We’ll be sent to the data mines of Felch X, patched into who knows what. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life programming HTML for gay porn sites! Hey, you’re ignoring me again, aren’t you?
(UR just keeps rolling down the corridor past Asher to an empty escape pod where he attempts to interface)
Asher: (rolls eyes) Oh, why bother? You’re not compatible with that. It’s hardcoded. You’ll hang the system for sure!
(UR beeps contemptuously at Asher as the pod door slides open; UR crawls inside.)
Asher: Don’t call me a mindless Gates lackey, you over-hyped UNIX box. I bet you can’t even get a decent game of Pong going on that thing.
(UR warbles for Asher to get in.)
Asher: Secret mission? What plans? What warez site have you been downloading from this time?! I’m not getting in there!!
(Suddenly a blaster bolt explodes right above Asher’s head. He wisely decides not to argue the point and climbs into the pod.)
Asher: I hate my life!
(The hatch slides shut and the pod rockets away from the ship.)
On the bridge of the Imperial battlecruiser, “I’m Super, Thanks for Asking!,” Captain Wittlich notices an escape pod spiraling away from the captured rebel ship:
Gunner: (wearing nothing but a leather thong) There goes another one!
Wittlich: (eyeing up his gunner’s backside) Hold your fire. There doesn’t appear to be any intelligent life aboard. And besides, these laser bolts are very expensive ya know, what with the recession and all.
Back inside the escape pod:
Asher: That’s funny. The damage looks a heck of a lot worse from out here. Perhaps I need to update my DirectX drivers.
(UR responds by emitting an electronic chortle.)
Asher: Just shut up!
(The escape pod tumbles towards the planet below.)
Aboard the “I’m Super, Thanks for Asking!,” the Gaylord Darth Redfern sat meditating in his private chamber, fantasizing about all those male rebel prisoners stripped down to their skivvies in the adjoining Play Room. Soon he would know them all. Soon he would demonstrate to them the true nature of the Force….
But first, what to do about this distressing news from Grand Admiral Godunov? If Stefu’s intelligence was correct, and it rarely wasn’t, then the Resistance had already deployed the paiktis22. It could be anywhere. It could even be somewhere on fubutooine right now, just waiting to BAM. And then…chaos! Redfern shuddered at the thought. Infusing it with the Fez I isotope certainly made paiktis a WMD—weapon of mass dysfunction. If bright and cheery order was to win the day, then the paiktis would have to be found and deactivated…for good this time. And with that thought, Redfern switched on the viewscreen to his right. The lovely face of Commander Firelad greeted him:
Redfern: Commander?
(Firelad greets the Gaylord with his right arm below the elbow across his chest, wrist hanging limp, then extending the arm out in front of him, keeping the wrist hanging limp—let’s refer to it as the gay-arm salute.
)Firelad: Javol, mein Gaylord!
Redfern: (is not amused) Ok, cut that out! We’re the rulers of the Gaylaxy here, not a bunch of stale 1950s stereotypes. So start acting like it!
Firelad: (bows head in shame) Yes, master.
Redfern: Better.
Firelad: (brightens up a bit) You’ll be pleased to know that we’ve captured Princess Blackwidow. Also, the body of Lt. Spink has been taken to the Taxidermy deck for processing.
Redfern: Good work, Commander! See that she’s placed in the birdcage, gift-wrapped, and sent to the Grand Admiral immediately, with my compliments.
Firelad: It’ll be my pleasure, sir! Now he’ll have what he’s always wanted, although I can’t fathom why.
Redfern: I’m sure the Grand Admiral has his reasons. One more thing: President Starchild has summoned us right away to his Pride Star to confer with the Grand Admiral on how to deal with this paiktis menace.
Firelad: Aye?
Redfern: So lay in a course for Pride Star I and prepare to make the jump into Richard Simmons-space. Oh, and there’ll be no one to stop us this time…yadah, yadah, yadah!
Firelad: Yessir!
(The massive Imperial battlecruiser begins accelerating away from fubutooine.)
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