A/N: Okaaay... to my shame, it's been... more than... umm... coughcough more than several months... I've THOUGHT about it but then I couldn't think of anything that wasn't crappy, and when I WOULD have good ideas I'd forget them before I could write them down or I would forget TO write them down, and then they were gone forever. So, yeah, sorry it's been a billion years. Hope that this isn't totally sucky and umm... horrific.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Darth Vader, blah blah blah. I own NOTHING.
Reply Reviews(cause I can't remember... anything.)
Zelscar: Good! Glad it made him laugh. I love to be spreading my joyful happy laughingness around... the world. Yes.
Cowgirl4Christ: Yep. Thank you!
Ogreatrandom: Thanks muchly!
Elendelyne: Thanks!
Super Tinfoil Man Part 2: I think we all write/have written uncaring poems such as his. But probably without such a deeply hidden sadistic meaning.
StarVix: I will remember that. I drink grape soda often. Cause it ROCKS!! Okay.
The (Obviously) Long Awaited
CHAPTER 12
Dear Diary,
I absolutely hate people. Which is probably known to.. the world. I hate REAL humans because I am not one, according to medical people everywhere, being as I am mostly half-ly machine. WHICH DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T HAVE FEELINGS!!!! BECAUSE I STILL HAVE A BRAIN AND EMOTIONS WHICH ARE VERY OFTEN WOUNDED!!!
Ahem. Sorry. That's not what I was trying to say, anyway. I hate people that treat me like I'm stupid.(Which actually has nothing to do with me being part machine. Even though machines are far superior. But I'm getting off track.) I hate people that cause me problems. In this case, the people who manufacture Pop-Tarts.
Pop-Tarts happen to be my absolute favorite breakfast treat of all time. They're fast, they're delicious, they're good for me-they're wonderful! And I was reading the instructions on the side of the box of Pop-Tarts so that I could prepare them. I hadn't had them in a while because I have to order them special, and my Official Pop-Tart orderer had ticked me off and... well... you can guess the rest. But I hadn't replaced him, and I've been busy, so I hadn't had a Pop-Tart in like... four months or something. So I forgot what you do with them. Which isn't SO bad, is it??? But the PROBLEM is that they stupidly made the instructions like really complicated. With several steps. Example: Step 1: remove Pop-Tart from pouch.
As if this is sooooooooo easy??? It took me twelve minutes.
So after I finally got the stupid Pop-Tarts out of their pouch, I had to hunt down the box, and seeing as how this helmet is really, really tinted, that took me another 8 minutes. Step 2: Insert pastry vertically into toaster.
Vertically??? It took me six more minutes to figure out which way was vertical. I was never the best Algebra student anyway.
And then this new toaster wasn't working, and when I finally figured out that the reason it wasn't working was because it wasn't plugged IN, I couldn't toast and eat them anyway because I was late for a meeting with Palpie, and he's been really moody lately(I'll explain later) so I didn't want to be late, seeing as how he could fry me with his force-lightning and everything.
So. Obviously, my day has been tragically bad thus far.
Vader
Dear Diary,
Now that I think about it, maybe Palpie could've toasted my Pop-Tarts with his force-lightning. Hmm...
VDR
Dear Diary,
So apparently Palpatine has been going to AA meetings. Actually, he only went to one(he killed everyone there. Poor alcoholics.) but he's been all depressed. I believe that it's because he's finally faced with the fact that he has a PROBLEM, but he denied that alllll the way and went to check out the mini-bar.
Vaderre
Dear Diary,
I don't know if you remember, but a while ago Palpie got me a therapist so I could work out my anger issues and whatever. And I killed him, obviously, because no one but you, diary, knows the deepest and darkest secrets of... my soul.
Well, apparently I'VE been "moody" lately, because Palpie got me ANOTHER therapist. Who looks JUST the one I eliminated. So... who knows what's happening here. I say it's a freaky mind game someone's trying to play with me. We'll see. We'll see.
INTIMIDATINGLY YOURS,
DARTH VADER TO THE MAX!!!
Dear Diary,
Well, I had a meeting with my new therapist, who I am referring to as Puny Therapist Guy 2. And here is how our conversation went...
PTG2: Palpatine has informed me of your anger issues. And I think-
Me: Well maybe he should've informed you of his alcohol issue. The issue isn't the alcohol, the issue is him.(I heard that line in a Lifetime movie. I found it fitting.)
PTG2: Well, we're not here to talk about Palpatine. We're here to talk about you.
Me: Well, you're wrong. I'M not here to talk about me. I am here to hear you talk about us being here to talk about me. Since that's what you're being paid for.
PTG2: Has your past been unhappy?
Me: Nope. Jolly good times.(Sarcastically, obviously.)
PTG2: Do you ever wish to go back and redo anything?
Me: Why on EARTH would I want to go back and redo all those jolly good times?
PTG2: Are you being sarcastic, Vader?
Me: Nooooooooooooooo.
PTG2: Well, I think you are.
Me: Well, I think you're stupid.
After I said that he just kinda stared for a couple of seconds, scribbled down some notes, and told me he'd see me next week. So, yay. I hate therapists.
Vader
Dear Diary,
He sent me a care package. I hate him.
VaDeR
Dear Diary,
He sent me a card. I hate him more.
ReDaV
Dear Diary,
My therapist keeps sending me 'encouraging gifts' with stupid little bears and other fluffy things on them. I hate him.
DV
Dear Diary,
I have no happiness.
DV
P.S. Or so I've been told.
Dear Diary,
I was watching some of the clones play baseball today. And I had a strange feeling in my chest/lung-ish area.
I think I might've had a heart attack.
Even though I'm not sure I have a heart. I think they might've replaced that one.
Darth V
Dear Diary,
I hate life. I hate machinery. I hate my therapist. He makes me think.
DV
Dear Diary,
THEY TRIED TO POISION ME BUT I FOILED THEIR PLOT!!! YESSSSSS!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!
DV
Dear Diary,
Does anyone have a flute? Get someone to play the flute for me. And throw a violin in there too.
Vader, The Darth
Dear Diary,
HE'S MAKING ME LOSE MY MIND!!! Do you SEE the inconsistency and the randomness of my past few entries? It's terrible! I go into those meetings and I come out... changed. He... is scary... he has... powers. Strange, scary powers. I don't like him.
I should kill him. But I'm already trying to sorta kinda think about my plot to kill Palpie. So my brain is pretty much occupied. I don't know what to do! HELP Diary,
I hate weakness.
I hate being weak.
He makes me weak and screws with my brain!
He stares at my mask... and it's like he's looking into my soul.
DV
Dear Diary,
Okay, I'm back to normal. It's been about a week, I'm fine, I'm good. I've killed three people today.
Palpie killed my therapist for me. Which is strange. And it makes me think about putting off my plan to kill him for a while longer. Cause, you know, he was nice. And whatever. Anyway. I'm off to go wander the halls menacingly and ponder my problems(but not too much, cause thinking tires me.)
Darth Vadeirerererererererere(okay, sorry... that's a little much.)
A/N: I feel like this chapter succccks. Of course, in my past experience, chapters written out of guilt are never all that great. So yeah. Review, please!! Even if it's just to tell me it sucks.