Dear Readers who favorited/followed Owlion12 and are probably wondering where the PJO stuff is...

This is Star Wars, so warning you right out of the gate!

We promise we will get to updating other stories soon, we just wanted to post this while the Star Wars topic was on our minds, having just watched The Force Awakens for the first time last night!

Please keep in mind that this story is not meant to be taken seriously and includes a lot of literally slap-stick humor and we guess you could call it a crack fic.

We totally forget how we came up with the idea in the first place, and please review, favorite and follow us! We might post more little one-shots or short stories like this one if the fancy hits us.

Like Padme's round-house kick.

Hush, spoilers!

DISCLAIMER

Luke flies with the red,

Po flies with the blue,

We don't own Star Wars,

So Disney don't sue!

Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Anakin Skywalker opened his eyes. Not Darth Vader. Just Anakin. It felt as though all the pain had been gently pulled from his body, which felt like his own for the first time since, well, the beginning. He blinked and looked around the white space that surrounded him. It had no floors, no walls, no roof. Just pure white essence, and he was inside of it.

His hands, his real hands, were back. He felt his face; it didn't feel disgusting. Anakin took a breath, a very long, deep breath. Overcome with joy, peace and victory, he exhaled while laughing, sitting up from his position on the ground and examining the rest of his totally normal body. He stood up and took a few steps, then a few jumps, until finally he was running around his white space as he cheered like someone who had finally gotten off Tatooine.

Ah, yes. It was wonderful to relive that feeling.

Eventually, like all good Jedi, he tripped and crashed to the ground laughing. He closed his eyes and simply smiled, lying flat on his back.

"Hello, Anakin." A deep, accented voice said from above. He opened his eyes to take in the sight of his former master, Obi Wan Kenobi, looming over him.

"Master!" he exclaimed, sitting up. Obi Wan smiled warmly.

"It's good to see you again, my young Padawan." He said, extending a hand and pulling Anakin to his feet. They exchanged a strong, firm and welcome embrace before they gazed into each other's eyes.

"Gay, you are looking." A voice croaked behind them.

"Not yet." Obi Wan hissed over Anakin's shoulder, glaring harshly at the tiny, troll-like being and motioning him to leave them once again in privacy. It chuckled before toddling away slowly. "Anyway," Obi Wan began, pulling apart from their hug. "I imagine there is quite a bit for us to talk about. Why don't you have a seat, Anakin?" He motioned with one hand and a chair appeared beside them. Anakin was about to question how this was possible, but decided against it. Internally, he relished the idea of being able to sit without hearing the infernal creaking of the leather in his- no, Darth Vader's, suit.

"Master, there is so much I've come to realise over the past, well… How long has it been since I, you know, turned back to the Light side?" Obi Wan titled his head, thoughtfully.

"Hmm… About ten minutes and thirty one seconds." He said, watching eagerly as Anakin took his seat.

"Master, I lived under the cloud of Darkness as a servant to Palpatine for so many years, I was sure there was no light left within me. But Luke… He believed in me, in Anakin Skywalker, he saw past what I had become and looked at who I used to be, who I was meant to be… He showed me the way back to the light. He saved me, Master. He was right, I'm so glad that he was right." Anakin smiled, tears streaming down his cheeks, once again raising his gaze to meet that of his master's. He could see tears of pride forming in Obi Wan's eyes as well. The old man placed a warm hand on Anakin's shoulder.

"Anakin, we are all so very proud of you. You have finally achieved the purpose the Force set out for you. But," He pulled his hand away and his face twisted into a very odd, unreadable expression. Anakin felt a thrill of foreboding. "There is just one, small thing that needs to be dealt with. Consider it your rite of passage."

"Rite of passage for what?"

"There is no… easy way, to tell you this, Anakin. But…" Obi Wan pulled a small scrap of flimsy out of the pocket of his robe. "I got number one."

"Number one for-" Anakin Skywalker never got to complete his sentence, as it was then that Obi Wan Kenobi swiftly and accurately punched him square on the nose.

Well, he certainly hadn't been expecting that.

Anakin reeled back, cupping his hands over his profusely bleeding nose.

"Master, what- What the kriff was that for?!" he groaned. At least Darth Vader didn't have a nose to worry about.

"Anakin, you killed me." Obi Wan replied, very matter-of-factly. "I think waiting four years to get revenge on the person who killed you is a perfectly acceptable reason to punch someone. From my point of view, anyway."

"But, Jedi aren't supposed to take revenge!"

"Anakin, we're already in Jedi Heaven. We don't need to worry about that anymore." Suddenly, a very nasty thought occurred to the young man in the chair.

"Wait, you said you got number one…" Anakin began, considering all the horrible things the numbering system would bring him.

"And gloated all night, Obi One did!" Obi "One" stepped aside to reveal Yoda, who was toddling towards them at a deceptively slow rate. "But gloat no more, he will!" he cackled, holding up a second slip of flimsy in his cane-free hand. "Got number two, I did!" Yoda stopped about four feet away from them, his face crumpled in a satisfied and sly smirk. He slowly began to lift his cane-free arm shakily, the other rising off the ground about five seconds after, cane still gripped in his tiny hand. He looked slowly to Obi Wan once both arms had risen into the air. "Pick me up, you will." The old man let out a loud, world weary sigh.

"This is the last time, Master." He groaned, picking up Yoda with ease and carrying him within striking distance of Anakin. The most recently deceased man in the room chuckled, nervously.

"Master Yoda, you aren't really going to punch me, are you?" he asked. "I mean, are you even strong enough?" Yoda furrowed his brow.

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have said that.

"Need fists to inflict pain, one does not." Yoda began, raising his cane menacingly. Anakin gulped before he was whacked repeatedly ten times over on the head. "Grew used to this, your son did. Know where he got his whininess from, I do." Obi Wan set Yoda to the ground as he laughed, oddly.

"So, that's it, right?" Anakin asked, his head still fuzzed and rattled from his beating. Obi Wan raised an eyebrow.

"Anakin, do you know how many Knights were in the Jedi Order?"

"Umm… Over ten thousand, I think- Oh, stang…"

"Hmm, hmm, yes…" Yoda giggled, nodding approvingly. "Say hello to each yesterday, I did. Fun reunion, it was!" He then waved a small, clawed hand through the air.

And a very, very, very long line appeared before them. Anakin's jaw dropped.

"How- Why- How did you- How is that possible?!" he yelped.

"Anakin," Obi Wan managed, in a very familiar, over-exhausted tone. "We are literally space-wizard-ninjas in the afterlife. We can do anything that we want. Look at you, for example. You used to be old, scarred and disgusting." Anakin had half a mind to point out that it was Obi Wan's fault he was scarred and disgusting, but for perhaps the first time in his life, he decided it might be better to keep his mouth shut. Besides, he was getting some blood in, and it wasn't a very nice taste. "And now, look at you!" Obi Wan continued, gesturing to Anakin's figure. "You are young and hot again! Granted, you could just look your age without the scarring and disfiguration, but, honestly, I don't blame you. In fact, I think I'll follow suit." Obi Wan's body glowed for a brief moment before he became-

"Master!" Anakin exclaimed. "You're young and hot again!" Yoda coughed awkwardly into his hand.

"Cute, you both are. But, sense a great disturbance from the line, I do. A full scale rebellion, we do not want. Get the show on the road, we will." These words were met by a very loud cheer. "Refunds they will want. Refunds, we do not have." Anakin attempted to spring from the chair and flee for his life- or, afterlife, but a firm hand kept him in place.

"If you run, they will simply give chase." Obi Wan informed him, politely. "And, this way, at least we have some control over how much damage they inflict." Yoda chuckled once more as he toddled to the other side of Anakin's chair.

"Fun, this is going to be."

"Now serving, number three." A mechanical voice said from above. Anakin felt his body tighten.

It had never been so tempting to be Darth Vader once again.

Apparently, it wasn't only the members of the Jedi Order who were severely upset with him. The numbers also included more than a couple rebels who deaths he had directly or indirectly caused, ("I had just met up with Luke again!" an irate Biggs Darklighter had exclaimed, before knocking out several teeth.) species that the Empire had driven to near extinction due to its shenanigans, (Apparently, the myth about Wookies ripping your arms out of socket were true.) the countless sand people from that… incident, (Gaffa sticks really hurt, even in the afterlife.) not to mention the parents, guardians, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings and other family members of the younglings he had brutally slaughtered.

Oops.

The extremely large Bothan (number 24 600) stepped aside after kicking him in the stomach and grinding his rib cage with a twist or two of his foot, Anakin was ready to see the end of the line. Well, he had been from the beginning, but after having broken countless bones, seeing triple and had his shins kicked repeatedly by the younglings mentioned above, the amount of blood that had pooled around his seat made him wonder if there was a possible afterlife for the afterlife. Honestly, he was ready to take it now.

Then again, there would probably be someone who hated him there, too.

"Now serving number 24 601." Anakin looked up to see two things. Firstly, it appeared this was the last person. Secondly…

"Angel..?" he croaked through his swollen, split lips and one nine hells of a nosebleed.

"Hello, Ani." Padme Amidala's eyebrow twitched at the sight of her former secret husband's state. She'd really rather not go into detail. Walking forward, she gave a polite nod to the two Jedi masters on either side of him, turned to Anakin once more, and smiled, a little too sweetly for his taste. In fact, her expression reminded him of the time he had attempted to cook a romantic dinner for them, but ended up blowing up her oven.

Which is why she ranked at the top of the list of people he was least looking forward to seeing Anakin had made to pass the time and ignore his pain.

"This," Padme began, bringing her heel down hard on Anakin's previously untouched lower regions. "Is for Luke! This," She threw down her foot again. "Is for Leia! And this," Padme round-house kicked Anakin in the face, sending his head jerking violently to one side and blood flying into the air. "This is for us, Ani!" Anakin was unable to regain his senses in time to watch her as she walked away, triumphantly. He was pretty sure he heard her high-five Obi Wan, either that or the last of his ribs breaking. Coughing and gasping for air, he leaned back in his chair and finally relaxed after what felt like a long, long time ago…

Finally, it was all over.

"Deceiving, your eyes can be…" Yoda chuckled, as he toddled around the chair to Obi Wan. "Bathroom, I must use."

"Good day, and thank you for your service." The overhead voice began, Anakin's one comfort during his assault from the violent mob that had attacked him in orderly fashion. "We will now take a short, five minute intermission before we begin serving the planet of Alderaan. May the Force be with you, and have a nice day."