Day Six: I have undertaken a new project for the rest of our voyage: I will cause Mokawa to break her vows. Less for my intense hatred for her and more for the severe space-boredom. The key is to start out slow and irritating, and slowly build the frustration and anger. For now, all of Mokawa's people will be known as Furries and everything that their society has accomplished will be referred to as cute. Whenever she tries to interrupt a maiming or killing, she will be tossed a ball of string and a chew toy, because it's unclear which one she would go for first. My guess would be a chew toy shaped like a bantha dong.
Day Seven: We stopped by Eriadu City, apparently for more dry food that turns to gravy when water is added, and wound up rescuing the child of the mayor. It had fallen into a pit containing two rancors, which I can't even begin to relate as a fucked-up posession for the Mayor of an insignificant Port City. The four of us managed to take out one of the rancors before Dish was struck down, only to be revived by me calling him a one-holer (to the unitiated, an Ithorian mutant that has a dick with only one hole - a grievous insult). This sent him into a temporary barbarian rage that allowed him to deal the killing blow. The other rancor was removed from battle by a clever trick by Chappie, namely closing the portcullis that was there the whole time and trapping the rancor in its holding pen. Unsurprisingly, the vast majority of us emerged from the pit very curious as to what color we could make the mayor pee before we dissected him, and Mokawa was bitching in the background about how barbarian rage was not specified as an acceptable practice according to the Jedi Handbook. But instead of gutting the mayor, Mokawa removed him from office and Tweeted the Jedi Council to get a new election started sans rancor ownership. While she was busy doing all of this, I ate the rescued child as a serious political statement, but it ended up coming off as cartoonish since I fed her through one mouth and spit the bones out of the other. Mokawa either never found out about this or is now officially afraid of her companions -- and rightly so.
Day Eight: the thing about Jedi is that they never shut the fuck up. At least Dish, as Pad-i-ouan learner, only has to pretend like he's listening. I'm sure the class he will no doubt take on non-stop pacifist discourse will destroy his soul.
Day Nine: we have arrived in Serpindal airspace. There are a lot of ships about. Chappy is breathing a sigh of relief and I'm pretty sure he has a rock-hard boner. I just want to get on the ground and start fucking tight assholes with my new Rancor-tooth 'poon.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment