Here's the next chapter, starting from where we left off, with Obi-Wan hanging by his ankles in a prison cell. I like this chapter, because it involves my favourite Sith Lord, Count Dooku. He's awesome.

Disclaimer: George Lucas owns everything to do with Star Wars. I don't own Tetris or Tupperware.

Damn my caring, sensitive nature! Obi-Wan thought as he dangled painfully from the energy binders in his cell. He then contradicted this statement slightly by imagining a series of cruel but surprisingly innovative ways to torture Count Dooku. As his old Master had always said, Obi-Wan was often slow, but he was always able to think of entertaining ways to punish people who got on his bad side. Like the young Padawans who had dared to "Trick or Treat" him at Halloween. They never knew what hit them (Obi-Wan did- it was an unusually large pumpkin).

He sniggered quietly to himself for a few minutes. However, he eventually decided that it was probably best not to get to the insane laughing stage after only two hours. He would save that for later, when he had run out of other things to do. Instead, Obi-Wan dangled for a few minutes. When he tired of this, he did a bit of flailing. For the next hour, he alternated between dangling and flailing, depending on which seemed appropriate.

He was somewhat pleased when his dangling-and-flailing was interrupted by a creak as the door to his cell slowly opened, and Count Dooku stepped inside.

At this point, relations between Padmé and Anakin were extremely strained. For hours, Padmé had been glaring ferociously at her bodyguard as he piloted their ship. They had been trawling aimlessly through space for two days now, with no apparent goal or direction, though Anakin insisted he had a plan.

'What is your plan, then?' Padmé asked snappily, continuing to shoot energy bolts with her eyes.

Anakin switched his gaze from the monotonous view outside the windscreen to Padmé's irate face. 'I'm working on it.' In actual fact, he wasn't. He was currently occupied with a game of Tetris on his mobile phone.

Padmé folded her arms and glared at the wall. The wall looked simply terrified. 'How long will it be until you have a plan?'

'I am very near the verge of having a plan.'

As Padmé opened her mouth to snap something in reply, a beeping noise issued from the controls, and a hologram of Master Windu appeared.

'Skywalker!' barked the imposing Jedi Master. Anakin winced and cowered in his seat. 'What are you doing on a ship with Senator Amidala in the Outer Rim?'

Anakin shrugged. 'Uh… playing Tetris?' He held up his phone, hands shaking slightly with fear.

'Ooh, I like that game!' Mace said, craning his neck to get a better view of the phone's screen. 'By the way, you could put that rectangle just there- ah, yes, Master Yoda, I'm just telling him.' Master Windu cleared his throat and attempted to look stern.

'Did you know your incompetent Master has been captured by Count Dooku on Vegas?' he said sharply.

Padmé groaned. Another visit to Vegas was the last thing she wanted right now. Anakin, however, was delighted to find a valid reason to get drunk and gamble all over again.

'Great!' he grinned widely. 'Padmé and I will go and rescue him!'

'We'll meet you there,' Mace agreed. 'I am currently occupied with some important Jedi business.'

A noise oddly similar to that of champagne corks popping filtered out from the hologram. It was then that Anakin and Padmé noticed Mace was wearing a party hat on his bald head.

'Uh, I have to go now,' Mace said hurriedly, and the hologram disappeared.

Anakin shoved his phone into his pocket and set a course for Vegas, still grinning. Finally, something was going right!

'Hello, my friend,' Dooku said pleasantly. 'Are you enjoying your stay in the prison cell?'

Obi-Wan gave him an angry upside-down look, but refrained from making any kind of reply.

'Oh come now,' the Separatist leader chuckled, 'You have to admit, you kind of brought this upon yourself.'

Despite his anger, Obi-Wan was forced to agree with him. 'Yeah, you're right. I can't believe I crashed that Tupperware party.'

Count Dooku blinked confusedly at him. 'Actually, I was referring to your current imprisonment.'

'Oh yeah,' Obi-Wan said. 'Yeah, I should have listened to the inexplicable apparition.'

Dooku agreed that the apparitions were usually right, even when they ordered him to kill civilians, steal priceless jewels and assault distinguished members of the Jedi Council. Especially then.

There were a few moments of silence, while Dooku reminisced about 'the good old days' and Obi-Wan went back to his dangling and flailing. Eventually, Dooku sighed and reluctantly wrenched his mind back to the present.

'So, how are things at the Jedi Temple, anyway?' he asked.

'Oh, fine,' Obi-Wan lied. 'My Padawan is being a little difficult.'

Dooku laughed. It sounded to Obi-Wan like he was a little out of practice. 'Yes, I remember Qui-Gon was sometimes a bit of a handful. The little tyke!'

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to connect the phrase 'little tyke' with the irritating apparition he had experienced a short time ago.

'I suppose Master Windu is still bald?' Dooku continued.

'Yes, he has been for as long as I can remember, despite what those hair regrowth commercials say.'

Dooku smiled stiffly, trying to recall how facial muscles could be rearranged to form this expression. 'Poor Mace! I was lucky enough to retain my good looks as I grew older.'

He smoothed a hand over his short grey hair; it came away with a giant ball of hair in the palm. Dooku stared thoughtfully at the hair; he could make a great toupee out of that.

'How old is he, anyway?' Obi-Wan asked, politely ignoring the ball of hair. 'He must be pretty old, because he's been bald for years now.'

'Oh, he's only about fifty-four,' Dooku informed him absently, shoving the hair into a pocket in his robes. 'He was born bald, and he just never grew hair, you know.'

Obi-Wan stared at him, wondering if all the blood rushing to his head had caused him to hallucinate. The giant teapot in front of him told him not to be silly, laughed, and then turned into a parking meter.

'So anyway,' Dooku continued, 'I have a proposition to make of you. If you agree to become my apprentice and eventual successor as leader of the Separatists, I will let you go. If not, well… I have a friend in this room who will deal with you.' He stroked his lightsaber longingly. 'You'll be dying to meet him, if you know what I mean.'

'I will never join you!' Obi-Wan shouted predictably.

Dooku widened his eyes persuasively. 'Are you sure? Because you get paid. You also get weekends off, and a free holiday to Naboo every year. Even a harem of lovely young Twi'lek ladies if you would like.'

Obi-Wan's mind was filled with images of himself bathing in money, then sitting on a beach on Naboo, getting a foot massage from a Twi'lek girl.

'No, thankyou,' he said firmly, to both Dooku and the Twi'lek girl who was now offering him a martini.

Dooku's face fell a little. 'Well, I'm afraid I have no choice but to kill you, then.'

'We could settle it some other way,' Obi-Wan suggested. 'Like, for example…'

He stared desperately around the room, hoping for some sort of inspiration, and his gaze fell on a poster that said, 'The Laughing Bantha Casino- Come and have a drink, play some poker, and give us all your cash!' An idea flitted through his mind.

'Like a poker tournament?'

The aging Sith Lord smiled, well satisfied. 'It's settled, then!'
He bowed mockingly to Obi-Wan, then turned and strode out the door.

Obi-Wan dangled in silence, staring at the closed door. This was an improvement, he told himself. Or it would be if he knew how to play poker.

I don't know how to play poker either, so the poker tournament in the next chapter won't really be described in detail. Just warning you. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!