08 August, 2005

Pizza, Man

Adventure, excitement, a Jedi craves not these things.
But we usually get a big fat ice-cream scoop of them dumped in our laps, man.
Like, let's take in example, like, the week before I packed up and went off to summer camp on Tatooine.
All right, I use spice in my brownies. Anyone that doesn't, like, know that yet is, like, either not getting the blatantly obvious stoner references that myself and others are constantly making about the snackie-cakes, or they have had so many, they've forgotten Kessel. And socks. And the letter 'k.'
So, yeah, like, I get my spice from places. There are some legitimate businessmen that I deal with that take the forms of, like giant revolting blobs. That's right, everyone's favourite worm-ridden pieces of filth, the Hutts. There is a whole sluggy family, man. Jabba, Gardulla, Bubba, Yatta, and, of course, Pizza the Hutt. At the top of the really misshapen pyramid, there is Jabba, the Blobfather, and the others fall in line behind him. I remember Jabba from my days of actually believing that Anakin would amount to something (that's right, the days before his pop album).
I deal with the second in command, Pizza, as he delivers.
Well, I owed him a lot of bread. See, like, with me and J.J.'s budding brownie biz, we tend to have a lot of customers, like, totally addicted to our illustrious product, so we need a lot of spice. We make some serious bread, though, man. So, like, I was good for the credits.
But one thing. I like made my way out to Pizza's stronghold, Domino, on Kessel. For me, it's just a simple bamf and I'm there, right? Well, the credits were far too numerous to carry, like, via the Living Force, so I, like, had them shipped by UPS (Utapau Postal Shipping). Like, bummer was, there was this strike on Utapau, and like, I was there, but the credits weren't.
So, I was waiting in the lobby, man, and, like, Pizza's dirty rat of a narc, Chuck E. shows up. He's all like, "Are you Kwee-Gon Jim?"
And I was, like, "Naw, man. It's Qui-Gon Jinn, man. Get it right."
He snarled at me, showing me some pretty gnarly teeth. Reminded me of a certain Sith Lord, that maul remain nameless. He told me to follow him. His master was expecting me.
I did that. Oh, and like, FYI, never walk downwind from a rat, man.
So, right, get to Pizza's chamber. It was friggin' freezing, man! There was ice on the walls and ceiling. Pizza was there, sitting on a massive bag of peas. Willard the Rat went to his side, walking like a droid or something, and like, said, "Presssenting, Kwee-Gon Jim, Masssster."
All I could think was that if this freakin' rat bursts into song, I'm so out of here, man.
"Qui-Gon Jinn. The great Jedi Master. How the mighty have fallen..." Pizza said, hiccuping and coughing up what looked to be mozzarella. "Actually, I don't think you were very mighty. I mean, come on! Quiggy Starlust! You obviously weren't tripping on my spice, kid."
Oh wow. "Hey, man. I regret nothing... Uh, except that one time... With the tin of Spam... But, I, uh... What's with the ice-box, man?"
"It helps me survive. The cold keeps me fresh longer, you stupid hippie." Pizza pointed at me, and a pepperoni flew off the tip of his gooey finger and hit me in the face.
That was, like, so heavy and uncool, man! I'm a vegetarian! "Oh wow! You're a negative vibe merchant, man! Always trying to bring everyone down, Fascist."
I threw the gob of meat on the floor, and I got to see Pizza's other lackey, the Noid. He slithered up behind me, passing through my ethereal form, and snatched up the pepperoni. He mumbled something about his precious and buggered off to Pizza's side.
In walked Pizza's other goon, Little Caesar. "Mastew Pizza, may I be the one to bweak him? I heaw he's a wobber and a pick-pocket. Quite the hawdened cwiminal."
"Shut up, all of you pathetic marketing rejects!" Pizza was obviously getting a trifle miffed, man. He was bubbling. "Master Qui-Gon Jinn, where's my dough?"
"The bread's in the mail, man."
Speech Impediment man turned to Grey the Rat. and asked, "Why would you put bwead in the maiw?"
Seriously, if they were trying to intimidate me, they, like, seriously failed.
Pizza changed expressions, but with the muck that covered him, there was no bloody way that I could read it what it meant. "In the mail, huh? Shall we show him what we do to beatnik hippie stereotypes who withhold payment, boys?"
Caesar looked bummed. "But I wanted to break his wittle fingews with my hammew!"
Pizza shot a black olive at Caesar, hitting him in the button eye, effectively shutting him up. "I want the skeevy stoner dead. D. E. D. Dead."
The cheeseball half-coughed half-laughed and pressed a large red button on his ice-cube desk.
Within an instant, via Ethereal Travel, I was some place else, feeling deja vu, as if I'd been there before. Its floors were of durasteel and reinforced blast-proof walls closed me in.
And before me stood the face from my past that haunted me even in death.

Darth Maul.
Suddenly, I had the need for some clean ethereal boxers.


At 7:20 am, Blogger jedisiri said...

Kwee-Gon Jim is cool.it suits you better.

At 10:14 am, Blogger Han Solo said...

Spiced brownies? You mean, like cinnamon? Mmm....cinnamon....

*eats brownie*

Who's Kessel?

At 1:52 pm, Blogger flu said...

Oh, man, who will QGJ get outta this one?

Whatever happens Quiggy, be sure that you avoid the Noid.

At 1:54 pm, Blogger flu said...

uh... that last comment... I meant to ask, "how will"...not "who will"

Not enough caffeine yet this morning...


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