Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.
Obi Wan Kenobi walked wearily into the bar. It had been a long day for the Jedi Master. He was tired and thirsty after a long day of training his Padawan. He was in need of some refreshment.
Pulling his hood down from his head, Obi Wan took a seat and tapped the counter for the bar tender's attention.
"I'll have my usual."
"I thought you'd say that." The bar tender set down a drink for the Jedi Master he knew so well. "Enjoy, my friend."
Obi Wan was just enjoying his drink when a young thug approached him.
"You wanna buy some death sticks?" he asked.
Obi Wan sighed. He had been in this situation before. He raised his hand in front of thethug face, attempting to use a mind trick on him.
"You don't want to sell me death sticks. You want to go home and rethink your life."
"Ah, no I don't, man."
Obi Wan stared. "What?"
"Mind tricks don't work on me. I'm completely immune to them." The thug laughed. "Guess you Jedi aren't all that powerful."
Obi Wan glared.
He was not going to let this thug get away with his crime - or passing a comment like that about the Jedi.
"So ya gonna couch up the cash?"
"No - but I am gonna give you a taste of this!"
Without warning, Obi Wan ignited his lightsaber. The thug jumped with alarm as the blue crystal blade extended from the weapon. He pulled out a blaster and fired it at the Jedi Master, who managed to block off each shot from his weapon.
Obi Wan swung his laser sword.
The thug retreated back quickly before doving under a table.
Obi Wan sliced the blade of his weapon through the table, cutting it in half and barely missing the thug.
The thug found himself trapped in a corner. He raised his blaster to point it at the Jedi's forehead and opened fire.
With all his skills with the Force, Obi Wan sliced his lightsaber through the thug's arm.
A scream of pain filled the pain as the thug's limp was severed off. He clumped to the floor, too lifeless to carry out his deed of selling death sticks.
All eyes in the bar fell on Obi Wan.
He had won.
"Thanks, friend," said the bartender. "I've had no end of bother of that death stick dealer around here."
"Just doing my job as a Jedi," said Obi Wan.
"Just for that - you can have that drink on the house."
Obi Wan smiled and returned to his seat. He finished off the remainder of his drink, feeling refreshed and enjoying it all the more after all he'd been through.
"Well, I must be going now," he said as he hot up from his seat.
"Very well!" The bartender smiled. "Goodbye, friend!"
Obi Wan waved and made his exit from the bar. He climbed into the passenger of the speeder which was waiting for him outside, turning to face the driver.
"Next stop - the Jedi Council!"
"Why couldn't I have come in with you, Master?" Anakin sulked. "I would have liked a drink to!"
"You cannot have a drink, Anakin; you are driving! The council would be quick to expel a Jedi who drinks and drives!"
"Couldn't I have just had a shot? You and me could have had fun doing some together, Master!"
"I've dealt with enough shots in there!" Obi Wan pointed ahead. "Now come on! Get these turbos whirring, my young Padawan!"
With a pout, Anakin blasted the speeder into motion - leaving Obi Wan screaming in alarm as his young apprentice drove in an erratic manner - almost as if he'd been the one who'd just been drinking.
The end.