Wicked self-publisher Darth Sinister pilots his repainted DEATH STAR to a coffee emporium in the ill-named Chlamydia Cluster. Meanwhile, on a swamp-infested wreck of a planet ignored by the Intergalactic Freeway, Young Adult author Young Vanderkarr visits an old friend…
CODA: Hmm. That face you make. Look I so old to young baby seal eyes?
YOUNG VANDERKARR: No…allow me to lie horribly…of course not.
CODA: See through you I do, yes, I do!
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Please don’t die!
CODA: Strong am I with the Force…though not that strong. Twilight is upon me…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Love that saga.
CODA: Vampires, sparkly are they. Coda understands this not. Believes love-triangle is at heart of your obsession, Coda does.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Coda ain’t wrong.
CODA: Soon I must rest. Yes, forever sleep. Or at least, a light catnap. Earned it, I have. Mm.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: But I need your help. I’ve come back to complete my training.
CODA: No more training do you require. Some style tips, perhaps. Dye grey hair black, you might. No, no more training. Already know that which you need.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Then I am a Jedi.
CODA: To be published, you are. Proud of you, I am. Though false pride and vanity avoid, you must. Flattery. Five-star reviews. An author craves not these things. Rest, I will…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I don’t need to confront any Darths or anything like that?
CODA: Now rest I must…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Master Coda, is…Darth Biozarre my, er, father…
CODA: Told you, did she?
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Not exactly. She’s a chick.
CODA: Unexpected this is.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Hell, I’ll say…
CODA: One obstacle remains…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Deciphering your weird front-to-back sentences…
CODA: Two obstacles there are…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Skip to the end.
CODA: Darth Biozarre you must face.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Perhaps she will turn to paper publishing, as I have. There is good in her. I mean, behind that façade of being a Full-Time Villain™.
CODA: Do…not…underestimate…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: The POWER of underestimation. I know.
CODA: Darth Sinister, strong with the Dark Side of Publishing™®© is he.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I remember how he tried, desperately, to tempt me to join him and his minions on that repainted DEATH STAR. Free popcorn, cheap flights, and Wookiee porn on tap 24/7.
CODA: Really? Er, distractions are they. Beware Darth Sinister you must. A formidable editor is he. Remember your own weaknesses, you should. Do not allow…your fear…of editing…to cloud your love of…writing. That can only lead…to the Dark Side™…and migraines. Rest now…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Hello? I can’t believe he’s gone.
OBI-WAN OLD FOGEY: Coda will always be with you.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Obi-Wan. I’m published. Well, getting there.
OBI-WAN OLD FOGEY: The universe is a better place for that.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Seems a bit extreme. Well, okay. I’ll buy that for a dollar.
OBI-WAN OLD FOGEY: You’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own points of view. When I first met you, I was amazed at how deeply the fear ran in you. But you could write. And you overcame your fear. You have done well.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Aw shucks.
OBI-WAN OLD FOGEY: Though there is the matter of defeating some Darths…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Knew it…
*
DARTH BIOZARRE: Tum tum tum, tum-te-tum, tum-te-tum. Bored bored bored, bored-bored-bored, bored-bored-bored.
DARTH SINISTER: I sense a tremor in the Force. No…it’s just the Stormtrooper night-shift, putting all the laundry through the DEATH STAR at once. Darth Biozarre…
DARTH BIOZARRE: Can’t get that tune out of my head.
DARTH SINISTER: Kylie? I should say, Darth Minogue.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Unholy crap! Look, a Jedi Knight. On the command deck of your ludicrously-resprayed DEATH STAR.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Hi guys!
DARTH SINISTER: Everything is proceeding as planned. Join us, my Young Apprentice™.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: You are mistaken, your Highnessnessnessness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me.
DARTH BIOZARRE: About that whole paternity thing…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I’ve learned a great deal on my way here. There was a twin sister I accidentally kissed at a wild party. Bantha Fodder isn’t a thrash-metal band. My X-Wing wasn’t covered for flood insurance in the swamps of Dagobah. Cheese is the devil’s food. And I saw an Ewok porno featuring a Jawa with the biggest…
DARTH BIOZARRE: So you’ve come to turn to the Dark Side™…
DARTH SINISTER: Only one obstacle remains. You must use your fear of publishing to strike down your father…Darth Biozarre…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: She can’t possibly be my father. Unless she’s a freaky sex-change time…
DARTH BIOZARRE: Traveller. Yup. You all thought you were in a parody of STAR WARS. Well, you ain’t. I’ve been sent here from the future to wipe out the leader of the resistance. Failing that, I’ll take out his mother before the kid is born.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I have a kid.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Yeah, well, I had one too. You see, the first time I was sent back on this mission I went through a freaky sex-change and snaked your mom.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Ew. But my dad…
DARTH BIOZARRE: He was busy. I shape-shifted into his form and did the deed.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: So. This parody has been put together merely to pit a Jedi Knight against a Terminator.
DARTH BIOZARRE: The B-1000. With added vitamins. Pronounced vye-tamins.
DARTH SINISTER: Vitta minz.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I say vye-tamins. We’re American. Dude, where did you dig up that accent?
DARTH SINISTER: Scotsman using English accent just to take the rise out of Americans. Occupational hazard of being a Sith Lord. (™ and © Ian McDiarmid.)
DARTH BIOZARRE: And now, your paradoxical death. Young Vanderkarr.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Wait!
DARTH WOODWARD: What did I miss? I was out on the far side of the DEATH STAR, walking under those twin moons we’ve scheduled for demolition. The exhaust ports vented a lot of steam, and I pretended I was walking in fog. London
DARTH BIOZARRE: The old WAIT ploy. Bought you a few seconds…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: If you were sent back in time to eliminate my bloodline, yet accidentally fathered that bloodline, wouldn’t it have made more sense just to stay in bed that day? Or…out of mom’s bed, given the circumstances…
DARTH BIOZARRE: Crap. Yes. Unless…scrambles for last-minute plotting…that is, unless fathering the bloodline would lead to my CONTROL of the bloodline. Diverting you from the path of aiding the resistance movement. And…cementing my domination of reality.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: That never happened.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Didn’t it? That mysterious stranger who gave you a bazooka for your tenth birthday…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I always wondered about her.
DARTH BIOZARRE: The over-convenient free stack of bodice-rippers available at that little old lady’s book-stall one wet Saturday morning…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: An education in itself.
NOISES OFF: (Bzhwwzumm, zhwum, bzzz jzh-zjzh pop pop pop pop pop!)
DARTH BIOZARRE: Pastel lightsabre, Darth Woodward?
DARTH WOODWARD: It goes well with the popcorn. This one is Strawberry Ewok. No strawberries were hurt in the making of this popcorn.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Might try that later. But first, a little lightsabre action of my own.
NOISES OFF: (Bzhwwzumm, zhwum, bzzz jzh-zjzh!)
DARTH SINISTER: Stabbed in the back by Darth Biozarre. Ah, makes a Darth proud…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Holy crap! The boss is defeated before the henchman. By the henchman. That can’t be right.
DARTH WOODWARD: Henchperson of indeterminate sexual provenance.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Consider my contract of employment…terminated.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: You’ve turned to the light.
DARTH BIOZARRE: About that…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Aw nuts.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Join me. Together we will rule publishing, as father and son.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Whoah! Back up there, Missy Terminator. Hmm. Missy isn’t cutting it as far as description goes…
DARTH BIOZARRE: Freaky sex-change time traveller, with a sex-change back. Remember? That’s how I can be your dad, and still be younger than you, AND remain female.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I’d join you, but you should join me. Otherwise, there’s all this endless sword training I’ll be forced to use on you.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Do your worst.
NOISES OFF: (Slash. Yes, we ran out of budget for the sounds.)
YOUNG VANDERKARR: There. Chopped your arm off.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Symbolic castration? I still have a cock, you muppet.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: You mean you haven’t switched back yet, from your freaky sex-change.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Uh, wait. Is this Wednesday? No. Therefore, I’m my future self…and. Changed back to being a chick. Hmm, I guess popping up all through your life dropping handy hints to betray the resistance movement…didn’t actually work.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: I have a problem with authority. Also. Terminator versus a lightsabre? Get real.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Enough of your fan-girl bullshit. Hey, Darth Woodward. Help me out, will you…
DARTH WOODWARD: You know, a girl could get used to a sexy big black throne like this one. Ooh, it has a microwave. What does this button do? Well, I never. Now no one else can either.
MOFF LARKIN: Boss?
DARTH WOODWARD: Damn straight. Set course for Canada
DARTH BIOZARRE: Well if you won’t turn, Young Vanderkarr, perhaps your sister…
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Too late. I’m not really me anyway. Surprise. I’m the twin sister I mentioned earlier.
DARTH BIOZARRE: That one you met in the gay cantina?
YOUNG VANDERKARR: The Pink Stormtrooper. Huh. Guess the clue was in the title.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Then where is the real Young Vanderkarr?
YOUNG VANDERKARR: She’s younger by two minutes. That’s her flying beyond the bay window. Sneaking Darth Sinister away for a spot of redemption. Join us. Turn to the Light Side™.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Darth Sinister, turning to the light? After betrayal by me? Not a chance.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: He’s being escorted to a group-writing session, even as I speak.
DARTH BIOZARRE: Darth Sinister? We’re talking Darth Trapdoor Spider. He used the DEATH STAR to annihilate the last local writing group that tried to burn out his evil ways. Young fool. He’s only using Younger Vanderkarr as a cheap version of an escape pod. Why, Darth Sinister has made provisions in the budget for a second, even blacker, DEATH STAR. The STEALTH STAR.
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Thought you didn’t work for him. Terminating the contract and all…
DARTH BIOZARRE: True. With Darth Woodward hijacking this DEATH STAR, and your meddlesome sister out of the way, there’s nothing to stop my falling off this rail-less science fiction walkway to my personal fighter…
NOISES OFF: (Man actually saying THUD for reasons of cheapness.)
YOUNG VANDERKARR: Curses. If only someone designed science fiction walkways with actual railings or banisters. This sort of crap wouldn’t come up. Don’t get me started on faster-than-light space travel or sounds in a hard vacuum…
NEXT BLOG: A NEW HOPE.
Come a long way, we have. :)
ReplyDeleteNot wrong, are you. Next blog post read, you must. Darth Sinister from evil, turn he might. Always in motion, is the future.
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