Hellllloooo to new readers, and hello again to any old readers! I originally published this story about two years ago, and I got some really nice feedback. But then I read through it a little while ago, and I realized the writing wasn't really that great. Also, there were a few bits that kind of didn't make sense… so I've fixed all that up, and added plenty of new material, so it is so much better now!

For people who haven't read this story before, it's basically a parody of the second Star Wars movie. The plot is similar, but a lot more insane. It's rated T because there's some mild swearing, drug use and generally inappropriate stuff (mainly done by Anakin).

I hope you enjoy it!

Senator Padmé Amidala gazed through the viewscreen of her starfighter at the dull grey surface of Coruscant. She had travelled the long distance from her home planet Naboo in order to address the Senate about the war against the Separatists. Padmé should have been reclining comfortably in her private quarters in the large silver ship that she and Captain Typho were flanking, but this same Captain had decided that was far too risky. So, they had arranged for one of Padmé's handmaidens, Cordé, to replace her on the starship on the journey from Naboo. However, Padmé was certain this was all just an elaborate plan to get her out of the ship so that they could drink and gamble in peace.

Despite all of their fears, the starship and its two fighters landed safely on a platform near the Senate. As soon as her fighter had completed its landing cycle, Padmé clambered out and walked towards Typho (or Typhoid, as his enemies called him). He was fiddling with his helmet and looking a little sheepish; Padmé was certain he was about to grovel to her.

Sure enough, he started to frame an apology for his overreaction, but he was silenced by a colossal explosion. Padmé and Typho both flung themselves face-down onto the durasteel surface of the platform. Once the noise had died away, Padmé jumped up and ran towards the twisted wreckage of the starship (Typho didn't get up; he had knocked himself out with his own helmet). Her mind was spinning and reeling with shock. What sort of cowardly assassin strikes when their target is on the ground? she thought angrily. Her jumbled thoughts abruptly ceased as she finally spotted Cordé, crushed and scorched, lying amongst the rubble.

'Cordé!' she gasped, kneeling down beside her injured handmaiden. 'Are you alright?'

This was not what Cordé needed to hear at this moment in time. She started to mutter, 'What does it look like, you little-' But she succeeded in stopping herself before she said something she would regret. Obviously, Padmé was under a lot of stress, even if she wasn't lying on the ground minutes from death. Cordé took a shallow breath, painfully inflating her crushed lungs, and murmured, 'I'm sorry Senator. I've failed you.' There. That sounded suitably selfless and groveling.

'Yeah, you have,' Padmé admitted.

Cordé felt her temper rise again. Padmé had never been a particularly understanding person; she remembered that when her first boyfriend had dumped her, Padmé had told her to stop whining because he was a jerk anyway. Then she had ordered Cordé to make her a latte. But this simply surpassed all of those previous offences.

'You're supposed to say something nice,' said Cordé reprovingly.

'What's the point?' Padmé replied matter-of-factly, shrugging. 'You're going to die anyway.'

Cordé gave up; there was no way she could argue with that. There was just one more thing she had to say; something that was bound to annoy Padmé.

'Senator, I…' She paused to gather her breath. 'I'm… wearing…' The dying girl trailed off, exhausted.

'What, Cordé, wearing what?' Padmé asked impatiently, giving her a little shake.

Cordé mustered one last ounce of strength. 'Your… Victoria's Secret bra.' With that, she died, smiling in satisfaction.

Padmé seized her around the neck, not even caring so much that she was already dead. 'You BITCH!' she shrieked. 'You ruined my best bra!'

Typho, who had just regained consciousness, grabbed the young Senator roughly and dragged her away.

'M'lady,' he said urgently, 'We have to go. We're going to be late for the Senate session.'

Padmé nodded, regaining her usual calm demeanor, and turned to walk away. Cordé was dead and gone now, and good riddance. She had a job to do.

Fifteen minutes later, Padmé was standing in her dressing room, growling angrily as she pulled on her ugly Bonds underwear. What was she going to do without her lucky Victoria's Secret bra? And how would she manipulate stubborn Senators without showing them a quick flash of black lace? Padmé was absolutely certain that today's session was going to be a fiasco.

Sure enough, when she entered the cavernous arena of the Senate, two Senators were discussing TV shows while the Chancellor took a nap, his grey head resting on the control panel of his platform. Padmé snarled furiously. They were supposed to be debating the construction of an army to combat the Separatists: a group of renegade planetary leaders who were threatening the peace. As usual, this vital issue was being studiously ignored.

'So, did you watch Desperate Housewives last night?' asked the fat blue Twi'lek Senator, Orn Free Taa.

'Yes!' replied the Senator of Malastare, Ask Aak. 'I can't believe Bree is-'

He stopped speaking suddenly and gasped as Padmé maneuvered her platform towards the Chancellor.

'Chancellor Palpatine, you're supposed to be discussing the Separatists!' she yelled, her voice echoing off the walls of the Senate.

Palpatine woke with a start. 'Senator Amidala?' he asked uncertainly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 'What are you doing here? They told me you were dead!'

He sighed inwardly. Now that Padmé was here, he would be forced to stay awake and actually think about things! She was the only person who really took the Senate seriously; everyone else just saw it as a great chance to get out of their low-life day jobs.

'No, I'm very alive, and also very angry because I'm not wearing my lucky Victoria's Secret bra!' she snapped.

Ask Aak and Orn Free Taa, who had both been casting cursory glances at her cleavage, sat back in their seats, disappointed.

'Right,' Palpatine said, sitting up and trying to look very awake. 'So, the war. What do you guys think?' He glanced hopefully around the arena. Perhaps if no-one had an opinion, he would be able to go home. His face fell as Ask Aak raised his hand.

The Senator cleared his throat and announced, 'I think war is good.'

Orn Free Taa nodded in agreement, and there was a smattering of appreciative applause.

'Good, good,' Palpatine said thoughtfully. 'Anyone else got an opinion, or can I go home?'

His heart sank as he saw Padmé stand up; it was immediately evident to everyone that she was about to embark on one of her signature rants.

'This war against the Separatists will destroy our peaceful lives!' she cried. 'I have already experienced war firsthand, when my planet was invaded by those slimy gits, the Trade Federation!' There was an indignant shout of 'Hey!' from the Neimoidian Senator, but Padmé continued regardless. 'We cannot allow this to happen again!'

When her speech was concluded, the Senate rang with thunderous applause and cheers. This was the best speech they had ever heard in the Senate, and that included the Mon Calamari Senator's recent drunk tirade.

The Chancellor nodded again in a satisfied way. It was about time they voted on something other than whose turn it was to go out for pizza. 'All in favour of creating an army to fight against the Separatists?'

Every one of the Senators except Padmé cheered and raised their hands. Her mouth fell open in horror. Hadn't they even listened to her speech?

But Palpatine wasn't finished. 'All in favour of not creating an army to fight against the Separatists?'

Everyone cheered and raised their hands again. Padmé leaned back in her seat, relieved, though admittedly a little confused.

Palpatine gazed around the room at the raised hands, feeling perplexed. He wasn't entirely sure what to do. In a stroke of genius, he decided it would be best to simply ignore it. This was his solution to most problems, including burglars, annoying porn popping up on his computer screen, and ex-wives.

'All in favour of going out to get donuts?'

There was the loudest cheer yet in response to this suggestion.

'That's a majority!' he cried, delighted. 'Motion passed!'

Palpatine glanced around him, looking for his gavel to whack on the lectern in front of him, then remembered he had lent it to his brother to deal with a rude employee at work. Instead, he seized one of the horns that sprouted out of the side of Mas Amedda's head, and slapped the lectern with it. Amedda moaned a little and rubbed the side of his aching head.

Padmé sighed angrily, boiling with frustration at her colleagues. They never took government seriously! There was a ping from the instrument panel on her platform; Padmé looked down, frowning. It was probably just the automatic vending machine, she thought. However, she was exasperated to see that it was a message from the Chancellor reading, "Plz come 2 my office. Lost toenail clippers again."

Padmé flicked the switch that would cause the platform to return to its dock. To her considerable irritation, a small, stubborn beeping noise issued from the instrument panel, and the platform did not move. However, after she had growled a few threats, the platform assumed a terrified silence and floated obediently back into its dock. Once she had left the Senate, Padmé set off immediately for the Chancellor's office. No matter how disgusting and pointless another session trying to find the Chancellor's toenail clippers would be, it was necessary. Perhaps she would get some answers in between dodging flying bits of toenail.

Yes, the next chapter will involve a search for the toenail clippers. What of it?

So what did you think? Please please review and tell me! I hope I made you laugh!