Title: Star Wars - Beach House Style
Rating: R for foul language on Obi-Wan's part and a whole lot of adult innuendo.
Authors: Celeb Ryu and Blade Malfoy Celebare, two authors who should never write anything together.
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi. Yes, there are other characters, but why bother listing them? By saying Obi-Wan is in this fic we automatically get a load of reviewers from the fangirl sect... might as well mention that Anakin is in here too. Oh, and fanboys, so is Padme. Darn it! We listed more than Obi-Wan! Tricky little fandoms...
Notes: Yes, we misspelled the word 'fock' on purpose. Ever hear a Scottish guy cuss? It's funny! And... is it just me, or does replacing the 'o' with a 'u' make the word seem less dirty?
CR: Well, this is the most random thing ever written! I think...
BM: What about the MST's? Those were pretty random... and funny!
CR: Yes, and in them we scarred Alec for life... again.
BM: (evil cackle) Why do we torture our Bishounen so?
CR: 'cos it's focking funny?
BM: (cackle) And so it begins. Shall we start?
CR: Let's begin this speeder ride!
BM: All righteo, then! ...yee Gods, I either need to get someone else to write my material, or I need to get more sleep... (snaps and a bunch of Star Wars characters land in a large yet sparsely furnished beach house somewhere in Southern California...)
Obi-Wan Kenobi blinked confusedly a few times and looked around at his new surroundings. He, Yoda, Anakin, Padme, Palpatine, and Dooku had landed inside of a large beach house.
"Where the hell are we?" Anakin asked, voicing the question on everyone else's mind.
"At a beach, duh," Padme said.
"But how the fock did we get here?" Obi-Wan Kenobi asked, scratching his head.
CR: Behold the power of fangirls!
"...We're focked, aren't we?" Obi-Wan asked.
"I think so, master," Anakin replied. And with that the crew began exploring the large, yet sparsely furnished beach house located somewhere in SoCal.
"Padme, Anakin, you are to sleep in separate rooms!" Obi-Wan shouted as he ran after the pair.
"An impossible task, it is, to keep them apart, hmm," Yoda said as he floated through the hallway on his little hovering disk. He was shortly knocked askew by Obi-Wan as the harassed-looking Jedi chased after his Padawan.
"You're not focking sleeping in the same focking room!" he yelled, catching the bedroom door as Anakin and Padme leaped inside.
"Why not?" Anakin demanded sulkily.
"Because I don't want to baby-sit focking twins! Besides, you do not question your master!" exclaimed Obi-Wan.
"Can I sleep with Dooku?" Palpatine asked.
"Eew, no!" exclaimed everyone other than Dooku.
"Aww," Dooku sniffled. Everyone turned around and stared at him in mixed horror and disgust, and he quickly straightened up and muttered, "I meant, aww, we can't make evil plans."
"Fine," Anakin growled, stepping out of Padme's room. "But I will get even." Then the unhappy slave-boy stalked off down the hallway.
"Why do I have the feeling I haven't heard the end of that?" Obi-Wan groaned, massaging his temples.
"The end, it isn't," Yoda intoned.
"Oh, fock off," Obi-Wan growled, knocking Yoda off his floating dish.
~-~-~-
"Ugh, the sand! It never ends!" complained Anakin.
"Oh stop whining, my young apprentice."
"Everywhere, the sand is," stated Yoda.
"I just said that!" shouted Anakin as he knocked Yoda down.
"Hit a nerve, I have," Yoda said as he fainted.
"He's just upset 'cos he isn't getting any," joked Dooku.
"Well neither are you!" shrieked the future Darth Vader.
"And neither am I," Obi-Wan growled. "If I can survive a few focking weeks, so can you, my very horny apprentice."
"but I'm just a guy! An 18-year-old guy!" Anakin exclaimed. "I'm in my prime! You're old. You'd probably have a heart attack or something."
"You focking brat!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "At least I have self-control!"
"You aren't being tempted by a hottie wearing next to no cloths!" exclaimed Anakin.
"I can see Padme, too, you know!" shouted his master.
"A hottie she is," Yoda said as he woke up somehow.
"Can we get to the beach now?" asked the hottie in question.
~-~-~-
Mesa no be likin' disa salta watta," Jar-Jar said apprehensively as the plethora of Star Wars heros (and a pair of villains) trekked down to the beach.
"Why, oh why did you bring the focking Gungan down here?" Obi-Wan groaned, again massaging his temples.
"Think of it as a trial," said a disembodied voice. "Besides, you're so cute when you're confused!"
"Idea!" said a second disembodied voice. "Oh, my sweet Vegeta..."
Suddenly Vegeta, Bulma, and Trunks walked by.
"Vegeta, did you have to wear the speedo?" asked Bulma.
"Yes, I did! Do you mind, woman?" Vegeta asked suggestively.
"Eww, not in front of me!" yelled Trunks, who looked grossed out.
"Trunks, put on your trunks," shouted Bulma.
"Make me!" squealed Trunks. He then took off down the beach, closely followed by Bulma and Vegeta.
"Random, that was," said Yoda.
"Naked, that kid was," Dooku said, looking disturbed.
"You look good naked," Palpatine grinned.
"All right, knock it off!" Obi-Wan growled. "If Padme and Anakin can't focking get it on, neither can you!"
"Aww, my liddle Wanny is acting the part of the censor!" Blade's disembodied voice cooed. "Just like Alec!"
"I'm not your focking little Wanny!" Obi-Wan roared at the cloudless sky.
"Aww, is ikkle Wannykins mad?" Anakin asked.
"I'm focking not Wanny!"
"Ani wanna go skinny dipping?" asked Padme.
"I would, but my arm will short-circuit..."
"Oh yeah... damn..."
"Haha!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, pointing at a very sad Anakin. "You've got a focking prosthesis!"
"And you're a whiny pu-" Anakin began, but Dooku decked him before he could finish his sentence.
"What the fock was that for?" Obi-Wan asked, eyeing Anakin's unconscious form. "Not that I'm not grateful, of course."
"That boy was more irritating than a Hobbit on drugs," Dooku shrugged. "Besides, you're hot!"
Obi-Wan didn't take a backwards look as he dove into the ocean.
~-~-~-
"But my chest is cold! Please let Ani-chan warm it for me!" pleaded Padme.
"No! Nobody's focking if I can't!" screamed Obi-Wan.
"Man, I see you in a new light, master," Anakin said.
"Thank you, my young apprentice."
"But my chest is cold!" Padme cried, giving puppy-dog eyes to Obi-Wan.
"And my arse is focking cold, but you don't hear me whining about it," Obi-Wan snapped.
"If I warm your arse, can Anakin warm my chest?" Padme asked.
"You're focking desperate, aren't you?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously. "You're bloody hornier than my focking apprentice!"
"Dat besa impossible!" Jar-Jar exclaimed, waving his arms around and nearly thwacking Obi-Wan with his ears.
"Oh, fock off!" Obi-Wan snapped, shoving Jar-Jar into the ocean.
"Melting, he is," Yoda said as Jar-Jar melted into nothingness.
~-~-~-
"Ug, I have focking sand in places I didn't even know existed," complained the young knight (aka Obi-Wan).
"I told you, it's everywhere!" exclaimed Anakin.
"I wouldn't mind being everywhere on you," hinted Padme.
"I wouldn't mind focking cutting your other focking arm off," Obi-Wan growled, itching at his homespun robe.
"A question I have," said Yoda. "Feel how it does hand that?"
"What??" Padme asked.
Yoda cleared his throat. "Feel how does it hand that?"
Suddenly C3P0 appeared out of nowhere. "I believe master Yoda is asking how that hand feels."
Padme looked between the droid and Yoda, deeply disturbed. "It... uh... takes some getting used to..."
"It adds a whole new dimension to everything," Anakin grinned with a very suggestive inflection in his voice.
"Right, we've heard it all before, so does the Force," Obi-Wan muttered, rolling his eyes and absently flinging C3P0 over a cliff.
"Concerned about your morals, I am," Yoda said solemnly.
"You brought up the focking hand!" Obi-Wan exclaimed defensively. He then started to stalk off.
"Where are you going?" Anakin asked.
"To get a bloody drink!"
"A drunk, Obi-Wan is," Yoda proclaimed.
"Shut up, you focking muppet!!"
Rating: R for foul language on Obi-Wan's part and a whole lot of adult innuendo.
Authors: Celeb Ryu and Blade Malfoy Celebare, two authors who should never write anything together.
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi. Yes, there are other characters, but why bother listing them? By saying Obi-Wan is in this fic we automatically get a load of reviewers from the fangirl sect... might as well mention that Anakin is in here too. Oh, and fanboys, so is Padme. Darn it! We listed more than Obi-Wan! Tricky little fandoms...
Notes: Yes, we misspelled the word 'fock' on purpose. Ever hear a Scottish guy cuss? It's funny! And... is it just me, or does replacing the 'o' with a 'u' make the word seem less dirty?
CR: Well, this is the most random thing ever written! I think...
BM: What about the MST's? Those were pretty random... and funny!
CR: Yes, and in them we scarred Alec for life... again.
BM: (evil cackle) Why do we torture our Bishounen so?
CR: 'cos it's focking funny?
BM: (cackle) And so it begins. Shall we start?
CR: Let's begin this speeder ride!
BM: All righteo, then! ...yee Gods, I either need to get someone else to write my material, or I need to get more sleep... (snaps and a bunch of Star Wars characters land in a large yet sparsely furnished beach house somewhere in Southern California...)
Obi-Wan Kenobi blinked confusedly a few times and looked around at his new surroundings. He, Yoda, Anakin, Padme, Palpatine, and Dooku had landed inside of a large beach house.
"Where the hell are we?" Anakin asked, voicing the question on everyone else's mind.
"At a beach, duh," Padme said.
"But how the fock did we get here?" Obi-Wan Kenobi asked, scratching his head.
CR: Behold the power of fangirls!
"...We're focked, aren't we?" Obi-Wan asked.
"I think so, master," Anakin replied. And with that the crew began exploring the large, yet sparsely furnished beach house located somewhere in SoCal.
"Padme, Anakin, you are to sleep in separate rooms!" Obi-Wan shouted as he ran after the pair.
"An impossible task, it is, to keep them apart, hmm," Yoda said as he floated through the hallway on his little hovering disk. He was shortly knocked askew by Obi-Wan as the harassed-looking Jedi chased after his Padawan.
"You're not focking sleeping in the same focking room!" he yelled, catching the bedroom door as Anakin and Padme leaped inside.
"Why not?" Anakin demanded sulkily.
"Because I don't want to baby-sit focking twins! Besides, you do not question your master!" exclaimed Obi-Wan.
"Can I sleep with Dooku?" Palpatine asked.
"Eew, no!" exclaimed everyone other than Dooku.
"Aww," Dooku sniffled. Everyone turned around and stared at him in mixed horror and disgust, and he quickly straightened up and muttered, "I meant, aww, we can't make evil plans."
"Fine," Anakin growled, stepping out of Padme's room. "But I will get even." Then the unhappy slave-boy stalked off down the hallway.
"Why do I have the feeling I haven't heard the end of that?" Obi-Wan groaned, massaging his temples.
"The end, it isn't," Yoda intoned.
"Oh, fock off," Obi-Wan growled, knocking Yoda off his floating dish.
~-~-~-
"Ugh, the sand! It never ends!" complained Anakin.
"Oh stop whining, my young apprentice."
"Everywhere, the sand is," stated Yoda.
"I just said that!" shouted Anakin as he knocked Yoda down.
"Hit a nerve, I have," Yoda said as he fainted.
"He's just upset 'cos he isn't getting any," joked Dooku.
"Well neither are you!" shrieked the future Darth Vader.
"And neither am I," Obi-Wan growled. "If I can survive a few focking weeks, so can you, my very horny apprentice."
"but I'm just a guy! An 18-year-old guy!" Anakin exclaimed. "I'm in my prime! You're old. You'd probably have a heart attack or something."
"You focking brat!" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "At least I have self-control!"
"You aren't being tempted by a hottie wearing next to no cloths!" exclaimed Anakin.
"I can see Padme, too, you know!" shouted his master.
"A hottie she is," Yoda said as he woke up somehow.
"Can we get to the beach now?" asked the hottie in question.
~-~-~-
Mesa no be likin' disa salta watta," Jar-Jar said apprehensively as the plethora of Star Wars heros (and a pair of villains) trekked down to the beach.
"Why, oh why did you bring the focking Gungan down here?" Obi-Wan groaned, again massaging his temples.
"Think of it as a trial," said a disembodied voice. "Besides, you're so cute when you're confused!"
"Idea!" said a second disembodied voice. "Oh, my sweet Vegeta..."
Suddenly Vegeta, Bulma, and Trunks walked by.
"Vegeta, did you have to wear the speedo?" asked Bulma.
"Yes, I did! Do you mind, woman?" Vegeta asked suggestively.
"Eww, not in front of me!" yelled Trunks, who looked grossed out.
"Trunks, put on your trunks," shouted Bulma.
"Make me!" squealed Trunks. He then took off down the beach, closely followed by Bulma and Vegeta.
"Random, that was," said Yoda.
"Naked, that kid was," Dooku said, looking disturbed.
"You look good naked," Palpatine grinned.
"All right, knock it off!" Obi-Wan growled. "If Padme and Anakin can't focking get it on, neither can you!"
"Aww, my liddle Wanny is acting the part of the censor!" Blade's disembodied voice cooed. "Just like Alec!"
"I'm not your focking little Wanny!" Obi-Wan roared at the cloudless sky.
"Aww, is ikkle Wannykins mad?" Anakin asked.
"I'm focking not Wanny!"
"Ani wanna go skinny dipping?" asked Padme.
"I would, but my arm will short-circuit..."
"Oh yeah... damn..."
"Haha!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, pointing at a very sad Anakin. "You've got a focking prosthesis!"
"And you're a whiny pu-" Anakin began, but Dooku decked him before he could finish his sentence.
"What the fock was that for?" Obi-Wan asked, eyeing Anakin's unconscious form. "Not that I'm not grateful, of course."
"That boy was more irritating than a Hobbit on drugs," Dooku shrugged. "Besides, you're hot!"
Obi-Wan didn't take a backwards look as he dove into the ocean.
~-~-~-
"But my chest is cold! Please let Ani-chan warm it for me!" pleaded Padme.
"No! Nobody's focking if I can't!" screamed Obi-Wan.
"Man, I see you in a new light, master," Anakin said.
"Thank you, my young apprentice."
"But my chest is cold!" Padme cried, giving puppy-dog eyes to Obi-Wan.
"And my arse is focking cold, but you don't hear me whining about it," Obi-Wan snapped.
"If I warm your arse, can Anakin warm my chest?" Padme asked.
"You're focking desperate, aren't you?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously. "You're bloody hornier than my focking apprentice!"
"Dat besa impossible!" Jar-Jar exclaimed, waving his arms around and nearly thwacking Obi-Wan with his ears.
"Oh, fock off!" Obi-Wan snapped, shoving Jar-Jar into the ocean.
"Melting, he is," Yoda said as Jar-Jar melted into nothingness.
~-~-~-
"Ug, I have focking sand in places I didn't even know existed," complained the young knight (aka Obi-Wan).
"I told you, it's everywhere!" exclaimed Anakin.
"I wouldn't mind being everywhere on you," hinted Padme.
"I wouldn't mind focking cutting your other focking arm off," Obi-Wan growled, itching at his homespun robe.
"A question I have," said Yoda. "Feel how it does hand that?"
"What??" Padme asked.
Yoda cleared his throat. "Feel how does it hand that?"
Suddenly C3P0 appeared out of nowhere. "I believe master Yoda is asking how that hand feels."
Padme looked between the droid and Yoda, deeply disturbed. "It... uh... takes some getting used to..."
"It adds a whole new dimension to everything," Anakin grinned with a very suggestive inflection in his voice.
"Right, we've heard it all before, so does the Force," Obi-Wan muttered, rolling his eyes and absently flinging C3P0 over a cliff.
"Concerned about your morals, I am," Yoda said solemnly.
"You brought up the focking hand!" Obi-Wan exclaimed defensively. He then started to stalk off.
"Where are you going?" Anakin asked.
"To get a bloody drink!"
"A drunk, Obi-Wan is," Yoda proclaimed.
"Shut up, you focking muppet!!"