Okay, I have something to explain to you about Why Jedi Live Longer Than Sith. See, I had this terrible migraine the day I wrote that. So I wasn't on crack, sugar, insert-other-substance-here. I was on this painkiller my doctor gave me last time. Now, I don't really do well on painkillers. I'm not used to them, I try not to use them very often because they're evil. They don't make the pain go away! My day went like this: Complain about how my head hurts. Lie on couch. Take medicine. Continue complaining about how my head hurts. Get on computer. Write crazy story. Start texting my friend how we don't have any apples. Finally just went to bed and slept off the headache. I don't think I was really loopy, I just... had some really weird ideas. Next day, I reread my story and realize it wasn't that bad. So TADA! This.
"Here's lunch!" Darth Vader walked in and threw a paper bag on his master's, Darth Sidious, better known as Palpatine, the Emperor, or That Creepy Dude, desk. Palpatine put down a puzzle piece from the large, halfway finished jig-saw puzzle, opened the bag and rummaged around a bit.
"Apprentice," he sighed.
"Yes?"
"These are turkey legs," he explained. Vader gave him a 'So What?' look. After a moment of no response, he realized his master couldn't tell his looks apart, due to his mask. He was still getting used to that.
"I know, you told me you loved turkey legs."
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did."
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did!"
"No I didn't!"
"Yes you did!"
"Nu-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Uh-huh!" Palpatine grinned.
"Nu-uh!" Vader paused. "Crap, I mean Uh-huh!"
"Nu-uh!"
"Oh for the love of the Force! What's wrong with turkey legs?"
"I love turkey!" Palpatine shouted.
"Then what's the problem!" Vader shouted deafeningly. He had thought he had left this behind when he had finally become a Knight. Palpatine might be shaping up to be worse than Obi-Wan.
"Go and get me some of those new spicy bantha legs from TFB," he demanded. Vader froze.
"Uh, TFB? As in Tatooine Fried Bantha?" Palpatine nodded. "Um, didn't you say you hated that place?"
"No."
"I'm pretty sure you did."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes you did."
"You're not stalling." Vader tipped his head to the side. It was his new way of expressing confusion. It seemed to work well for animals. The whole mask thing was getting annoying.
"Okay! I burned it down," Vader admitted.
"What?" Palpatine sounded angry. Really angry. "But that was the last of many TFBs on Imperial Center."
Vader tipped his head to the side again, "Actually it was the first and only... Besides, you told me you hated it. I assumed that meant I had permission to burn it down."
"Why did you b- Oh. Apprentice, it is totally healthy to destroy everything that reminds you of Tatooine."
Vader, who assumed (Which turns out is a very dangerous thing for him to do) that he was being sarcastic, scowled. Not that anyone could tell.
"Now go and get me some TFB!"
Vader, still very upset about being sent around like a servant, reflected on his Master's strange behavior.
"But the nearest one is on Alderaan!"
"Should have thought of that before you went and burned the place down. I was so disappointed to hear they weren't building one closer to home, too. This is why you train apprentices. You destroy their lives and what do they do? Stab you. Stab you right in the heart."
"But you did say you hated that place," he muttered, almost to himself. "I don't understand you at all. You say you hate it, but then you love it. Half of what comes out of your mouth doesn't make sense." He walked over and opened the door to his master's quarters.
"Here's your lunch. Again." He turned and walked over to the door before Palpatine could send him off on some other errand.
Palpatine, who hadn't eaten in hours. "Apprentice!" Vader barely suppressed a groan. "I told you to get me the new honey glazed bantha legs!"
"No you didn't. You specifically said the spicy ones." He pulled out a tape recorder. Palpatine frowned.
"You're turning out to be such a success as an apprentice."
"Um, thank you?" Vader tipped his head to the side. He had been expecting a lecture. He shrugged and stepped into the corridor, content in the fact he would finally be able to relax.
"Oh no!" A yell came from inside the room. Vader sighed and walked back inside.
"What? I suppose you wanted biscuits with your bantha, right?"
"Well, no actually. But that's just the problem. I got sauce on my hand."
Vader, completely unsympathetic to his problem sighed, "So?"
"It freezes!" Palpatine screamed in pain.
'What? It's hot sauce it bur- wait, that doesn't even make any sen- You know what? I'm going."
"Go! Get me some lotion!"
"Lotion?"
"Don't tell me you forgot to buy lotion last time you went out. I put it on the list! I remember writing it, so don't try to tell me-"
"No, I got it," he said defensively. "I meant, why do you need lotion?"
"For after I wash my hands." Vader stared at him. "I have extremely sensitive skin, okay? Don't judge me." Vader threw the bottle of lotion at his head, but unfortunately for Vader, he caught it. Vader watched his master apply the lotion to his wrinkly hands. He shuddered. Just as he was about to leave, Palpatine cried out yet again, "Darth Alan Vader!"
"Alan?" His neck was starting to hurt from the constant bending.
"I changed your name, remember?"
"I don't remember the Alan part."
"Of course you do. Middle names are important. Do you know my middle name?"
"I don't even know your first name."
"No... well. You bought the wrong lotion!"
"I went to 'Fresher and Face Works, just like you said. The Skipping Lilypads scented kind."
"I love that kind."
"I give up! You don't make any kriffin' sense!"
"I'm not a Sith Lord. I never lie."
"Oh. Oh! I get it now! Oh! Oh. Oh! Oh," Vader said, relieved. His Master wasn't completely crazy after all.
"O. It's the fourteenth letter of the alphabet."
"Fifteenth," Vader corrected.
"Don't correct me! Now don't go and get me some Orange Medley lotion."
"No, please Master! Please. Don't make me go back. Everyone laughed at me last time I went in there. My reputation can't afford another trip!" Vader pleaded.
"Don't go! And don't pick up some of those disgusting candles while you're there. Especially not the Pineapple Flower or Salty Ocean Seaweed kinds."
"Actually, I hear they have these scented oil things that are supposedly better than candles. Should I get those instead?"
"No. That's not a good idea. The wicks don't burn out too fast."
"Or they have six-wick candles."
"Hm... don't get either."
"I'll be back."
When Vader arrived Palpatine was still working on his puzzle.
"Here," He put the bag next to him. Then he started running out as fast as possible.
"Hey!"
Vader stopped. "Oh, suck it up and deal with your problems yourself!" He shouted to him and resumed his mad rush to the door.
"I'm not out of tofu!" Vader paused. He considered. He took another step to the door. He twisted his hands together. Should he ask? He had to ask.
No, just run.
What does he need tofu for?
Run! While you have the chance.
But... Tofu!
Run! No, no, don't ask!
"Tofu?"
"I'm on a high carb diet."
Vader glared. "Be a man." Then he turned and walked out.
There was a moment of silence. Then Palpatine burst into manly tears.
"My mommy wanted a boy!"