Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or West Side Story. Or anything else that might be mentioned in this story. Spain especially. I think I'm probably having more fun with them than is legally allowed.
Author's note: To avoid confusion, anytime the person speaking says 'Rogues' it means they're singing.
So. Who's best-looking in women's dress? I vote for myself.
~Wes Janson --Aaron Allston, Starfighters of Adumar
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Director: Okay, so we're going to give this a shot.
He begins to hand out parts.
Director: Wes, you can have the main part. The rest of you, you can be the background people for this scene.
The Rogues look over their scripts.
Hobbie: Waitaminnit... These are all women's parts.
Director: So?
Hobbie: Why do we have to do this?
Tycho: It's not wise to argue with what the author wants. I'd shut up, if I were you.
Hobbie: This is an Empirical abuse of power. I will not stand for it.
Tycho: Hobbie, look at it this way- you can be in this fic and not complain, or you can get killed in the next one. Take your pick.
Hobbie looks in horror at the other pilots.
Hobbie: She has you brainwashed! You know that, don't you?!
Director: Sit down. I want to start going over this as soon as possible...
Hobbie: The sooner we can get this over with, the better.
Director: ...We just have to get you into your costumes.
The scene fades back in on the four Rogues, dressed in women's clothing. Hobbie is scowling.
Wes begins to sing in a falsetto, dancing comically as he does so.
Wes: I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright,
And I pity
Any girl who isn't me tonight.
I feel charming,
Oh, so charming
It's alarming how charming I feel,
And so pretty
That I hardly can believe I'm real.
See the pretty girl in that mirror there:
Who can that attractive girl be?
Such a pretty face,
Such a pretty dress,
Such a pretty smile,
Such a pretty me!
I feel stunning
And entrancing
Feel like running and dancing for joy,
For I'm loved
By a pretty wonderful boy!
Hobbie: I can see why you were chosen for the part, Wes.
Director: Stop stop stop! I need no background chatter- follow the script!
Hobbie sighs.
Director: Okay, we'll start back where we left off.
The remaining Rogues begin to sing, in falsetto as well. Tycho and Wedge seem resigned to their fates, but Hobbie's words seem forced.
Rogues: Have you met my good friend Maria,
The craziest girl on the block?
You'll know her the minute you see her,
She's the one who is in an advanced state of shock.
She thinks she's in love.
She things she's in Spain.
She isn't in love,
She's merely insane.
Hobbie: Wait. What's Spain?
Wes: You use bacta to make it better.
Wedge: No, that's just 'pain'. Not Spain.
Wes: Didn't he said pain?
Hobbie: No, I distinctly said 'Spain'.
Wes: That makes more sense. You, the one with the bacta endorsements lined up, asking what pain was? That made no sense to me.
Director: I will beat you senseless if you don't shut up!
Wes: You needn't be so rude. We are professionals.
The director mutters something.
The Rogues hear what he says but choose to ignore it. They begin singing again.
Rogues: It must be the heat
Or some rare disease,
Or too much to eat
Or maybe it's fleas.
Tycho makes a face.
Tycho: These people have fleas?
Hobbie: Bug bites are not fun.
Wes laughs at him.
The Director looks annoyed.
The Rogues quickly begin singing again.
Rogues: Keep away from her,
Send for Chino!
This is not the
Maria we know:
Wedge looks puzzled.
Wedge: Who's Chino?
Hobbie: You think we understand this any more than you do?
Tycho: It rhymes with 'we know'. Stop asking questions and start singing before the director gets violent.
Rogues: Modest and pure,
Polite and refined.
Well-bred and mature
And out of her mind!
Hobbie shakes his head.
Hobbie: That's Wes in a nutshell.
Wes drops a curtsey.
Wes: I'm glad you think so, Hobbie.
Wes twirls around, his skirt flaying outward in such a way that it looks scarily feminine.
He begins singing again.
Wes: I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
That the city should give me its key.
A committee
Should be organized to honor me.
Rogues: La la la la . . .
Hobbie nudges Tycho.
Hobbie: Our dialogue is quite brilliant here, don't you think?
Tycho nods, grinning.
Wes: I feel dizzy,
I feel sunny,
I feel fizzy and funny and fine,
And so pretty,
Miss America can just resign!
Wedge and Tycho exchange glances. Simultaneously, they break into song.
Wedge: *sings* LOOK at her.....
Tycho: *sings* Isn't she ELEGANT....
Hobbie hides behind the nearest piece of scenery.
The Director looks even more pissed, if that's possible.
Wedge and Tycho notice this, and stop singing.
Rogues: La la la la . . .
Wes: *sings* See the pretty girl in the mirror there:
Rogues: What mirror where?
Hobbie: Are you sure that's part of the script? That seems like something I would say.
Wedge: It's down in black and white, he can't yell at us. Just keep singing.
Wes: *sings* Who can that attractive girl be?
Rogues: Which? What? Where? Whom?
Hobbie: Whom? Is that right grammar?
Wedge: Is the phrase 'right grammar' right grammar?
Director: You guys are pushing it.
Wes: Such a pretty face,
Such a pretty dress,
Such a pretty smile,
Such a pretty me.
Rogues: Whom-mm?
Such a pretty me!
All Rogues, including Wes: I feel stunning
And entrancing,
Feel like running and dancing for joy,
For I'm loved
By a pretty wonderful boy!
The Rogues each take a sweeping bow and throw the Director a pilot-ego grin, then leave.