TITLE: In the Aftermath of Episode II
SUMMARY: The title says most of it. A parody of the hilarious badness that is Episode II. Includes Senator/Queen/whatever Amidala, and Pouty Boy (aka Anakin).
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge fan of Star Wars and George Lucas--I was raised watching the original trilogy--but I cringe to think what Episode III will be like. There needs to be more good dialogue and less emphasis on CGI effects! If you're a rabid fan of the new episodes, please don't kill me.
DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Star Wars, blah blah. Don't sue me--I only own CDs of techno music. And a really awesome chair.
RATING: PG for slightly colorful language
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Yodiggity, M.D.
Jedi Sikiyatrist &
Marriage Counselor
said the sign on the door. Two people entered the small, comfortably decorated office. One was a young man wearing a long brown cloak who looked extremely sullen and uncomfortable (the man, not the cloak). The other was a young woman wearing a fantastic, sequined, purple gown. She looked angry and determined. She stopped abruptly when she saw the green-skinned, pointy-eared, shrunken Sikiyatrist.
she asked, in a haughty and emotionless voice. What are you doing here?
No, him I am not. My brother, Yoda is. Yodiggity, not Yoda, my name is.
said the young woman.
Sit down, Yodiggity said. The two did so. Yodiggity turned to the young man, who was tossing his daft braid around impetuously and nearly blinding himself in the process.
A Jedi, I see that you are. Your name, what is?
Anakin Skywalker, said the man grudgingly. Even his ears and well-chiseled cheekbones grudged.
Since a Sikiyatrist for Jedi, I am, help you, I may be able to. Great pain, I sense in you.
Anakin looked at him with curiosity as well as grudge-osity. You have the Force? he asked.
No. But that your arm was cut off I can see, and that you were in pain that probably means.
said the young man.
Yodiggity looked at the young woman, who was primping her perfectly-styled hair. And what, you are called?
Senator (formerly known as Queen) Padme Amidala Skywalker, she said quickly. Padme for short.
Married, you two are. Why you are here, I assume that is. The problem, what is?
Padme glared at Anakin, who used his handy lightsaber to deflect her glance. It made the same noise as a yummy soy burger when you put in in a hot, freshly greased pan.
It's all because of him, she said. We've been married for a month now, and all he does is talk about his dead mother! It's getting on my nerves. And-- she threw another fatal look at her husband. Skixx! He deflected it again with the saber. --he's so....EVIL.
But honey, I thought you liked my Dark Side, whined Anakin.
It's getting creepy! Especially when you start doing that weird asthmatic voice. Hoohhp...hahhh......Loooook, I am yoor fahther.....Hohhp hahhh'.
Oh, shut up! Anakin exclaimed. All you talk about is your duty to the Republic, the feuds in the Senate, how to combat the separatists. You talk about work all the time! I'm sick of it!
Chill out, you two must. Talk about this reasonably, I suggest we do. Yodiggity meditated for a moment, his hairy pointed ears wiggling. Now, apparently, an Oedipan complex Anakin has.
An eddiwhat? the Jedi boy asked.
A term for the psychological condition of loving one's mother, it is.
You mean---Ewwww!!! Padme said, disgusted.
An obscure Terran idea, it is, said Yodiggity with a shrug. Whacked, Freud was.
Well, what about her? Anakin asked, pointing at Padme. What's wrong with her?
A workaholic, your wife is. Too strong a sense of duty, she has perhaps.
Padme glowered and muttered, If you had the weight of a universe on you, you'd be a fucking workaholic too.
said Yodiggity, exists a problem does, but---
Oh my God, Padme interrupted suddenly, looking at her watch, has it been five minutes already? I'm still wearing the same outfit! Excuse me, she said, and she rushed out the door.
Anakin rolled his eyes. I hate it when she does this. You don't know how long it takes to go anywhere with her.
Padme ran back in, now dressed in a black, diamond-patterned, sleeveless top and tan leggings that looked like they had been slashed either by a hungry Karmau!eg or a deranged asylum inmate with scissors.
Okay, what were we talking about? she asked breathlessly. Anakin sighed heavily. She glared at him. Skixxx!
A break, let us take, suggested Yodiggity. Unfortunately, no one else noticed his rhyme. He sighed too, wishing for the eight hundred and twenty-third time in five hundred and seventy-nine years that he'd never chosen to become a Sikiyatrist.
Five minutes later, after the newlyweds had simmered down a little, the therapy session began anew.
Why do you and Yoda speak like that, anyway? Anakin asked curiously as he sat down. With that inversion thing?
A family disorder, it is. A sort of speech dyslexia, I believe, the green creature answered.
Yodiggity started, tension between you there is, from a rushed decision to get married perhaps. Different ways to fix this there are. For example, remember why you loved each other you must try. You, he said, looking at Anakin, marry your wife, why did you want to?
Anakin stared back at the Sikiyatrist as if the question was as stupid as my lazy brother-in-law. Duh. Because she's hot.
No other reasons, there were?
The Jedi squinted his eyes and scratched his chin, obviously thinking hard. After a moment, he spoke. No, that's basically it. She's just hot.
Yodiggity turned to Padme, who hurriedly put away the eyelash-curler. You then, love your husband, why do you?
Padme too stared at him as if he was slightly slow. Duh. Because he's hot.
Anakin smiled smugly. She glared. Skixx!
Anything else? Yodiggity prodded.
Umm...well, I've always kind of had a thing for evil guys, she admitted.
The Sikiyatrist thought for approximately 4.65 moments. This was a tough case, the sort of couple that never should have married. Finally he hit on an idea. The idea threw her martini in his face and stalked away, offended.
Yodiggity spoke. Conflicts in every marriage there are. Deal with them, you must learn how to. He glanced at his fake Rolex. Now out of time we are, but a suggestion for you I have until your next session. Each keep a list you must, and write down everything the other one does that you like. If your speeder your spouse cleans for you, this you write down. Focus on the positive side of each other you must. All right?
All right, the newlyweds mumbled.
Sorry, but up your time is. Talk next Wednesday we will, Yodiggity said as Anakin and Padme stood to leave.
After they had left his office, the Sikiyatrist sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. He began dreaming of retirement: a nice, misty swamp on Dagoba, with a beachfront burrow and plenty of misk'gur stew simmering in the fireplace. No one would ever bother him....
His secretary opened the door, dashing his daydreams. Your four o'clock appointment is here, sir.
Come in, let him. Yodiggity sat up straight.
A tall, four-limbed creature entered, ducking its shaggy head to avoid the doorway. Its body was covered in lustrous brown fur.
Please sit down, said Yodiggity. The creature sat.
Now, feel this week, how do you? the Sikiyatrist asked.
His patient roared and snuffled and woarged incomprehensibly. (If you don't know what a woarg sounds like, you need to get out more.)
However, Yodiggity seemed to know what it was saying. Understand you, you think people don't? Communication problems you are having, Chewbacca?
The furry creature nodded sagely.
Suddenly George Lucas woke up. He looked around blearily and realized that he had fallen asleep on his drafting desk. Detaching a drool-encrusted piece of paper from his cheek, he remembered what he'd been dreaming.
A Sikiyatrist named Yodiggity? What the hell? he muttered to himself. That was weird.
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A/N: Please review! Tell me how you liked (or hated) it!