***
CHAPTER TWO: The Updated Version
***
Author's Note: I have updated this chapter because of all its mistakes. When you read the next chapter please ignore the "author's note" on top. Thanks… hope you enjoy this! By the way, there's something wrong with the computer I'm using, so the words that are supposed to be italicized are instead capitalized. Hehe… I like saying stuff with a lot of "zees." Zee…zed, zoud… oh, sorry. On with the show! Er, fic!
***
Ah, Survivor. The ultimate parody. Or is it?
The yacht carrying the contestants swam…erm… landed? Waded? Whatever. Arrived at the deserted island that was to be home to 16 people George Lucas created for the next undecided number of chapters.
Jeft Proast, the ever-knowing host, lined up the contestants for checking and briefing. Of course, he was grumbling as he did this. What'd you expect? I mean, if I were a guy (which, thankfully, I am not) who looked exactly like Jeff Probst but had to host a bunch of made-up people, I would grumble too, actually.
"Okay, people…uh, contestants! Luke Skywalker!" he called. The Jedi Master walked up. "What's your luxury item?"
"What's that?"
"You're gonna be stuck on an island with fifteen other people. And you're gonna be allowed to bring something you don't usually find on a desert island. What's yours?"
He thought for a moment. "I am Jedi. Jedi do not need luxury."
Jeft was slightly annoyed by this. "Look, Skywalker, just pick something out, okay?"
"What shall I 'pick out'?"
"I don't know, that's up to you!"
"Why am I on this island?"
Now, Proast was REALLY mad. I mean, MAD! Not the magazine Mad, just plain mad! "Did you read the pamphlet on your seat, Luke?"
"No, I did not. I was meditating, readying myself for this journey ahead of me."
Jeft rolled his eyes. He did not like standing here, sweating, his armpits beginning to stink, and his deodorant thousands of miles away from him. Jeez, I should have brought some shaving cream, too!
"You were supposed to read it."
"Well, I didn't."
"It was announced on board, you idiot!"
"I am not an idiot. I am Jedi."
"I don't care what you are!" Proast almost shouted, waving his hands and arms in the air, exasperated.
Luke waved back and smiled. "It is nice to be welcomed."
"For goodness' sake! Just tell me what you want to bring!"
"May I bring my laptop?" He motioned towards his knapsack.
"Your WHAT?"
"My laptop. I do not like repeating things, Proast."
"You're a STAR WARS character! You're NOT supposed to HAVE a laptop! What are you, Bill Gates or something?"
"Who's Bill Gates?"
"OKAY! OKAY! Fine! You can bring your laptop! Go over there!"
"I sense anger in you. Anger is of the…"
Darth Vader rolled his eyes, thought no one could see him do it through his mask. In the very James Earl Jones voice, he continued for Luke, "The Dark Side! We know, son! We know! Now get one with it!"
Luke turned to face his father. "Dad! I am very disappointed in you! I'm putting you in that anger management class as SOON as we get to Coruscant!" He stalked over to his designated spot, and when he did, everyone sighed.
The Luke's voice was heard again. "Ah! Where's my lightsaber?"
"It's here, honey," Mara said, producing her husband's weapon.
"Oh," Jeft said calmly, recovered from his wave of anger. "No weapons of any sort allowed." He glanced at a looming Wookiee and a fat Hutt. "No slave girls, no using the Force. If you violate these rules, you will be disqualified."
A "Hey! That's not fair!" could be heard, but the speaker had gone unnoticed, for the most part.
Jabba grunted, and soon protests were roaring until Jeft called for order. He had to shout through the noise. "IF YOU DON'T LISTEN TO THE HOST EITHER, YOU ARE ALSO DISQUALIFIED!"
Everyone quieted down.
"Mrs. Skywalker, what's your luxury item?"
"My book. 'Surviving Motherhood.'"
Trying to be friendly, he asked, "Ah. How's your son, Ben?"
"Doing well. Now get on with it."
"Yes ma'am."
It went quietly, then, with Emperor Palpatine bringing his toothbrush, Vader bringing his asthma breather, Jaina Solo bringing a survival kit, Jacen a book called, '101 Ways to be a Jedi'.
Han brought an army knife, which was allowed for some strange reason. Leia brought a brush, a necessity.
Obi-Wan brought some hair gel, Gavin Darklighter, the only sensible one, brought some paint, Jabba the Hutt brought a mirror, and Boba Fett brought a… Game Boy Advance?
Borsk Fey'lya brought his Palm Pilot. Rich.
Anakin Solo brought an old HoloVid thing, one that needed tinkering.
"Now that you've all been checked, you will be divided into two teams. Sandburrow and Norub. You've been assigned to your specific teams, so go."
Now, I'm a lazy writer. Fast-forward to Chapter Three, please!
***
CHAPTER TWO: The Updated Version
***
Author's Note: I have updated this chapter because of all its mistakes. When you read the next chapter please ignore the "author's note" on top. Thanks… hope you enjoy this! By the way, there's something wrong with the computer I'm using, so the words that are supposed to be italicized are instead capitalized. Hehe… I like saying stuff with a lot of "zees." Zee…zed, zoud… oh, sorry. On with the show! Er, fic!
***
Ah, Survivor. The ultimate parody. Or is it?
The yacht carrying the contestants swam…erm… landed? Waded? Whatever. Arrived at the deserted island that was to be home to 16 people George Lucas created for the next undecided number of chapters.
Jeft Proast, the ever-knowing host, lined up the contestants for checking and briefing. Of course, he was grumbling as he did this. What'd you expect? I mean, if I were a guy (which, thankfully, I am not) who looked exactly like Jeff Probst but had to host a bunch of made-up people, I would grumble too, actually.
"Okay, people…uh, contestants! Luke Skywalker!" he called. The Jedi Master walked up. "What's your luxury item?"
"What's that?"
"You're gonna be stuck on an island with fifteen other people. And you're gonna be allowed to bring something you don't usually find on a desert island. What's yours?"
He thought for a moment. "I am Jedi. Jedi do not need luxury."
Jeft was slightly annoyed by this. "Look, Skywalker, just pick something out, okay?"
"What shall I 'pick out'?"
"I don't know, that's up to you!"
"Why am I on this island?"
Now, Proast was REALLY mad. I mean, MAD! Not the magazine Mad, just plain mad! "Did you read the pamphlet on your seat, Luke?"
"No, I did not. I was meditating, readying myself for this journey ahead of me."
Jeft rolled his eyes. He did not like standing here, sweating, his armpits beginning to stink, and his deodorant thousands of miles away from him. Jeez, I should have brought some shaving cream, too!
"You were supposed to read it."
"Well, I didn't."
"It was announced on board, you idiot!"
"I am not an idiot. I am Jedi."
"I don't care what you are!" Proast almost shouted, waving his hands and arms in the air, exasperated.
Luke waved back and smiled. "It is nice to be welcomed."
"For goodness' sake! Just tell me what you want to bring!"
"May I bring my laptop?" He motioned towards his knapsack.
"Your WHAT?"
"My laptop. I do not like repeating things, Proast."
"You're a STAR WARS character! You're NOT supposed to HAVE a laptop! What are you, Bill Gates or something?"
"Who's Bill Gates?"
"OKAY! OKAY! Fine! You can bring your laptop! Go over there!"
"I sense anger in you. Anger is of the…"
Darth Vader rolled his eyes, thought no one could see him do it through his mask. In the very James Earl Jones voice, he continued for Luke, "The Dark Side! We know, son! We know! Now get one with it!"
Luke turned to face his father. "Dad! I am very disappointed in you! I'm putting you in that anger management class as SOON as we get to Coruscant!" He stalked over to his designated spot, and when he did, everyone sighed.
The Luke's voice was heard again. "Ah! Where's my lightsaber?"
"It's here, honey," Mara said, producing her husband's weapon.
"Oh," Jeft said calmly, recovered from his wave of anger. "No weapons of any sort allowed." He glanced at a looming Wookiee and a fat Hutt. "No slave girls, no using the Force. If you violate these rules, you will be disqualified."
A "Hey! That's not fair!" could be heard, but the speaker had gone unnoticed, for the most part.
Jabba grunted, and soon protests were roaring until Jeft called for order. He had to shout through the noise. "IF YOU DON'T LISTEN TO THE HOST EITHER, YOU ARE ALSO DISQUALIFIED!"
Everyone quieted down.
"Mrs. Skywalker, what's your luxury item?"
"My book. 'Surviving Motherhood.'"
Trying to be friendly, he asked, "Ah. How's your son, Ben?"
"Doing well. Now get on with it."
"Yes ma'am."
It went quietly, then, with Emperor Palpatine bringing his toothbrush, Vader bringing his asthma breather, Jaina Solo bringing a survival kit, Jacen a book called, '101 Ways to be a Jedi'.
Han brought an army knife, which was allowed for some strange reason. Leia brought a brush, a necessity.
Obi-Wan brought some hair gel, Gavin Darklighter, the only sensible one, brought some paint, Jabba the Hutt brought a mirror, and Boba Fett brought a… Game Boy Advance?
Borsk Fey'lya brought his Palm Pilot. Rich.
Anakin Solo brought an old HoloVid thing, one that needed tinkering.
"Now that you've all been checked, you will be divided into two teams. Sandburrow and Norub. You've been assigned to your specific teams, so go."
Now, I'm a lazy writer. Fast-forward to Chapter Three, please!
***