Hello all. this is my first published story on fan fiction. It was written in 30 minutes for my vocabulary class. The vocab. words are in bold/underline.
-2/29/16 Update-
Hey guys. this story was going to be my first serial, but *awkwardly tugs at collar* I kinda sorta lost the account info for a while. At the time, the plan was to write them down on paper, then eventually type them up as needed. They just kept getting bigger and bigger (immature pun intended). Anyways, at the end of the summer of 2015, we had a family move in with us, and as such, a whole bunch of stuff was boxed up and put in storage. Unfortunately, the folder containing all of my Jar-Jar stories- as well as my long Transformers one- was lost, and I haven't seen it since. I keep an eye out for it, but I've never had the time to do a full, deep search.
I'm sorry for the super-long Hiatus, but this story didn't have many view anyways (it has accumulated like, 38 views since it was uploaded). I planned to expand it, but I just don't remember how it went enough to re-start it. Heck, I might just scrub my original script and do it again. Eventually, this weird-as-heck story was gonna become a crossover with Percy Jackson, and that story was gonna crossover with RWBY to make a gigantic space series. It was gonna be epic. Anyways, once I lost the account info, I re-branded myself on Fanfiction as Darth Uber, and that's where the RWBY story is currently. Check it out- I promise you it's WAAAY better than this story (it's over 30k words, for one). Anyways, without further ado:
Enjoy!
One fine afternoon, the Gungan sith acolyte was just returning from a bibulous night on the town. After consuming lots of black membrosia (he lost count after the tenth wax ball), he vaguely remembered declaiming his trenchant views on Huttese cooking… in a restaurant on Nal Hutta. As his memories began to reform and coalesce in his mind, he also remembered getting into a fight with a male? Hutt, and as dumb as that sounds, he had the scars and bruises that visibly delineated how sedulous a Hutt can be (even if they can only run at 2 miles per hour).
After he got home, he fell asleep and didn't wake up until 5 hours later. After taking 3 Advils to relieve the pain of the bruises and the hangover, he turned on the daily Holonet News broadcast, who was doing a "special" documentary about the local demagogue, who was greeted with an encomium of applause. As he nodded off to sleep, the last thing he heard was the Mayor's promise to turn Mustafar into a utopia.
Suddenly, he was awake, the dark side granting him a few seconds prescience.
"Die sith scum", the assassin yelled. This turned out to be his valedictory address, as he accidentally hit an electricity line and was filled with power- not dark side power, electricity- filled his veins. The once obdurate assassin was thrown out of the acolyte's room and straight into a stinking swamp, where his body was swallowed up by a dianoga.
The moral of this story?
Don't try to assassinate a Gungan… they have the dumbest luck in the galaxy.
Stay tuned for our NEXT installment-Mr. Binks goes to Droomund Kaas