A/N: This was just something I did for fun. I love the Valet so I decided to write somethin' real quick about him. May or may not be accurate, I dunno. Haha. No dialogue, so it might be boring to you. But I tried my best to emulate a slig's speech pattern so maybe it won't be as BORING. Lol. Anyway. Enjoy?
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I always thought it was kinda funny how things turn out, ya know? Soon as I was born they put me right to work, gave me a weapon bigger'n me, told me how to fire it, and I was hooked. There was somethin' real nice about blowing things up, ya know? And I was cool with it. Me n' some buddies would get together in the lounge and listen to music and smoke and drink coffee and that was it. I thought life was complete. I figured that was my lot in life and so I lived with it. Yeah, sometimes it got boring. Everything gets boring sometimes - no matter how much ya like it. Then when you remember why ya like it, it's not boring anymore.
I used to think hittin' the nearest Mud was the time o' my life. Or, when we weren't doin' that, we'd watch the Muds play games. Seems stupid, ya know? But we'd get some entertainment from darin' 'em to say, jump the barrels on the assembly line. Or play chicken with the meat saws on high power. Oh yeah, that was always fun. We'd bet on 'em too. We sligs'd bet on anything. I still have th' urge to do some gamblin'. Sometimes we were caught. If there was trouble, me an' some buddies were usually at the bottom, heh heh.
Wasn't too long after I'd gotten through the slig barracks and was doin' kinda well at my job when I realized I liked stage performances. I'd often volunteer to do stand-up in the lounge or when no one was lookin', I'd perform for the slaves. Even today every time I see a stage my heart starts a-poundin'. I can't help it. I couldn't help it even then. I had to do somethin', anythin'. I even found an old guitar in one of the junkyards - 'parently owned by one of the glukkons - so I started messin' with it and listenin' and eventually I was up on stage again, mostly as entertainment. I remember bein' in the spotlight and thought, 'Yeah, that's it. I gotta do this forever.'
My audiences got bigger, but offstage I was the butt of all th' jokes. I was told a buncha different times that I'd never be anythin' more than a security guard in a factory. That only served ta piss me off. I noticed that whenever I got off stage, hitting a Mud just didn't seem so great. It wasn't that I had a soft spot for 'em, but it was more or less that I'd found something better. Kinda like when you smoke some real good cigarettes and then right after that you smoke some real cheap ones. Sure, it's a smoke, but it's nowhere near the quality of what you had before. I think th' others started to notice. I started doin' pretty bad at my job and everyone was getting pissed at me. 'It's either work wit' us or get killed', they said.
So I had ta make a decision! I thought real hard about it. Ya see, sligs are real into the whole self-preservation thing. So choosin' between life and riskin' death is a real easy choice. But I couldn't help myself. Still, I wasn't a hundred percent on my decision so I decided ta ask for some advice. We had a real old slig workin' here. He'd been through a lot o' close calls so I thought he might know somethin' at least. So on my break I asked him what I oughta do. He laughed at me, but told me I'd be a fool to do somethin' I shouldn't be doin'.
I think he was talkin' about me stayin' and goin' back to being a security guard. But right then I kinda realized he was right. I knew I'd rather be dead than do anythin' other than entertain. I wasn't just meant for it - I was born for it. So I set up a plan. I started lookin' for places to entertain. If I was good enough, it wouldn't matter that I was just a slig, ya know? Sligs are kinda low on the totem pole out here, so it's rare that one of us makes the big time. But I wasn't gonna rest until I made it all th' way.
I was about ta give up hope. Weeks, months went by and no matta how many shows I performed at, it wasn't enough. I was missin' somethin'. Somethin' important that the audience was missin'. Then I knew what was wrong - I was still spendin' too much time as a security guard. I needed to be a personal assistant to a glukkon or somethin'. That was the only way I was gonna get to the big shows. So I started some more plannin'. One of the management was attending a big party - so I located the slig that was his escort for the night.
I never asked him ta switch places with me. It took a bit of uh, how do we say, "encouragement" on my part. When I told his boss he was unconscious on the job, the glukkon agreed ta take me and his other escort, some slig named Lidma I never met before. That guy was a riot. When we'd gotten seated (me n' Lidma had ta stand) I managed ta get away. Now I just had to get backstage. It didn't take a lot o' work. We were seated in the front row right next to the backstage door, so I managed to bribe the sligs guardin' it ta let me pass. Sligs'll do anything for a good pack of cigs - 'specially keepin' their traps shut.
Got back there and got my name on the card last minute. It wasn't easy - the creatures performing were outright cruel. I'd have to be just as sadistic to do it. So I came up with an idea for my act. I went on there as an assistant to some Intern guy - and we performed a skit that would someday come to be known as Name That Trauma - which, as you know, was the first TV series I got to present. It was a HIT.
The audience loved us, and I remembered listenin' to their applause and coulda cried. It was the most amazing thing I ever felt in my life. The Intern next to me became my assistant and business partner. Now, the glukkon I'd escorted was pissed. But he got in on it too - plus a share of th' profits - and he was happy. The rest, as you know it, is history. There was the whole business with the show losin' money and me meetin' the glukkon called Lulu, the gabbiar, and me leavin' him behind. The guy was a lunatic anyway.
So where do I go from here ya might ask? Well, I still do performances. Picked up some interestin' talents along the way, and the only thing I know is - I'd rather be dead than do anythin' else.