"Pinky, you got chocolate on my Jack-o-lantronic transmitter!" - Star Wars character - Han Solo

Bait and Switch

There seemed to be very little that could go wrong with this plan and it would finally allow him to finally take over the world. Or perhaps the galaxy, if he could manage it at all. If only he had better help, then success could be guaranteed.

Pinky, his dim-witted counterpart, was as faithful a friend as any genetically modified genius lab mouse could ever want. He willingly helped with every scheme, even if that help was hampered by his feebleminded efforts and generally boobish commentary. Such as now.

"It must be inordinately taxing to be such a boob." Brain snaps at his gangly friend as he began to wonder if his friend's 'help' sometimes was some sort of conspiracy against him by some unknown entity trying to plot against him for its own gain in his never-ending quest to take over the world.

"You have no idea." Pinky replied, a surprisingly lucid comment that Brain hadn't expected of the dolt.

But it wouldn't last- it never did. Something would happen later that would simply reaffirm his old knowledge that Pinky was completely and hopelessly dense. It was only a matter of when.

Brain only hoped that this time, it would happen after he had managed to get his device set up and broadcasting. With it broadcasting from this junk pile of a freighter- which had been dead easy for the two mice to infiltrate and set about their work- he would be able to reach billions of sentients with his brainwashing transmission. And in doing so, convince them to make him their unquestioned leader.

The Jack-o-latronic transmitter was a stroke of genius, a true masterpiece. In his mind's eye, as he could see all those glorious images of conquest and power. What he would do with it all- well, he had some faint ideas but nothing truly concrete. For someone who schemed to take over the world every waking moment of his existence, Brain truly had no firm idea of what he would do once he had achieved his masterstroke.

He'd gotten Pinky to hand him the necessary tools that he would need to finish connecting the improvised pumpkin transmitter into place on the ship; connecting it to the wires he reasoned that would enable him to broadcast his transmission to the planet of his choice- maybe even the entire galaxy. But in his fantasising about the beauty of a perfect plan and the sheer excitement over what he would do once he had fulfilled his dreams at long last, he failed to notice something truly vital.

For while he had intended Pinky to assist him with his plans as always, he had failed to notice- yet again- that Pinky was starting to do something that wasn't going to help his plan. In fact, if anything at all, it was going to make matters worse.

Pinky was eating a chocolate bar that he had managed to scrounge from a storage cabinet in the main galley of the ship they had stowed away on and had just decided to eat it. And just when Brain had begun to ask him to hand him various tools that he would need to finish his work. When Brain asked for a wrench, Pinky, who as always wasn't paying attention, handed him a gooey, half-eaten piece of chocolate instead of the wrench he asked for.

At first, Brain didn't really notice it. But it didn't take too long- unfortunately for the ambitious genius, it was already too late.

The chocolate started to fizzle and smoke on top of the jack-o-latronic transmitter. Sparks began to fly erratically from the transmitter, hitting both mice and the wall plating in the small out-of-the way place where they had hidden themselves.

"Egad Brain! These sparkly, sparklies are pretty but they hurt. Where'd they come from you think?" Pinky asked as his limbs got hit repeatedly with the sparks from the jacko-latronic transmitter.

To this, Brain initially gritted his teeth and growled in rage. This was not how it was all supposed to have turned out. This was supposed to have been a master stroke, the beginning of all his gloriously perfect plans coming to fruition. But, of course, it had failed yet again.

"Pinky, you got chocolate on my Jack-o-lantronic transmitter!" the big headed mouse exclaimed as the sparks from the jack-o-latronic transmitter reached a fevered pitch, blackening what was left of the chocolate before it finally exploded and burst into flames.

Both mice ended up being knocked out. Their fur singed black, they were in no shape to defend the smashed and rather mushy remains of their jack-o-lantern based transmitter. So, it was that the ship's captain found them.

"Chewie, what the hell was that noise?" A noise called out from a distance.

A series of barks and woofs, unintelligible to most but not to Han Solo, hollered in reply and Solo muttered a number of well-worn Corellian curses under his breath. He violently swore when he found the strange assortment of burnt-out organic matter, electronics, and mice in the little used storage area of the Falcon. The one just off the galley.

He cleaned up the electronics and burnt out pumpkin in disgust, shoving them in the recycler even as he wondered how the kriff it all got there. Then he picked up the still unconscious mice by their tails, closely examining them and wondering when exactly his vessel had become a transport for such pests- not counting past smuggling jobs, of course. And he had no idea of what to do with them until a novel thought struck him.

Hmm...wonder if Jacen would mind some new exotic pets for his birthday. Probably win Dad of the year for somethin' like this. He thought, sealing the fate of the mice as the latest pets of young Jedi in training.

Fin