CHAPTER 6: Anyone For Fried Potatoes?

            Meanwhile, hundreds of galaxies away, a seemingly innocent spaceship was flying over Idaho (a/n: why not try a holiday in Idaho this year?). The border police hadn't stopped them, they had seemed innocent enough (a/n: see the lovely telephone system, and the wide variety of vegetables, including the majestic potatoes).

            It was driven by two criminal masterminds, named Jo and Mo (a/n: A potato bit my sister once…). Jo was the brains, so he drove. Naturally, when we say brains, it means that by the time he graduated from college he could even count to nine on his fingers. As is traditional with bad guys, he was tall and skinny and wore star-shaped sunglasses that proved he had even worse fashion taste than Elton John (a/n: …mind you, potato bites can be pretty nasty, it swelled to the size of…well…a potato. She was trying to make potato stamps out of it by carving it with an electric toothbrush she'd won in a competition for who could guess the air speed velocity of a European unlaidened swallow. Suddenly, the potato sprouted big pointy teeth and bit her in the patella. She started running around, screaming her head off, but then she tripped over the electric toothbrush, and fell. The potato had just leaped for her throat, when…).

            Mo was the braunt.  He not only could hit the broad side of a barn, he was about the same size as one. Why were they kidnapping an innocent protocol droid tourist? Because without bad guys there wouldn't be much of a plot (a/n: we apologize for the digressions in the author notes. The people responsible have just been sacked). As they had brains roughly the size of a Dunkin' Donut (they had holes, too) they didn't think of turning off their prisoner. They instead gagged him with a sock and tied him to a chair. They also stuck a French Horn on his head.  (a/n: we have just discovered that the people responsible for the author notes can not be sacked, as they are the people in charge. Hence, the people who were responsible for trying to sack the people who were responsible for the digressions in the author notes have just been sacked. We would like to take this opportunity to thank Frank the Wonder Llama for his contributions to this story. Now back to the story, hopefully without further interruptions. We apologize for any inconveniences they may have caused.)

            Meanwhile, R2-D2's tracking device/bugging device was whirring away like a cheerful unlaidened African swallow. Suddenly, C-3PO heard a message play over the intercom. In R2-D2's voice, beeping so Jo and Mo couldn't understand him, (this was also the only way he could speak, but that's beside the point) 3PO heard, "Beep! Beepty beep beep beeeeeeep!! Beep!" (a/n: WARNING: we are not liable if we made a mistake and  R2 said "Help, I'm drowning in cheese!!") C-3PO breathed a sigh of relief at these reassuring words, which when echoing around inside the French Horn, sounded like a B flat.   

            "Uh….um, Jo, do you think something might be wrong, uh, it's making funny beeping noises…"

            "Look, leave the thinking to us thinkers, Mo! There's nothing wrong!"

            "Uh, Jo, I think a sign just popped out of our roof…it's flashing words…uh…can you read it to me, please, Jo?"

            "Mo, you're imagining things again!"

            "Uh, Jo, uh…you're turning left, but the ship's turning right"

            "Honestly, Mo, don't you know the right hand's the one that makes the L?"

            "Uh, Jo, um…there's a band of funny people wearing weird jackets and playing rock and roll on our roof…and one of them looks like Sting…" Actually, this was true. This was because the neon sign was flashing R2-D2's message on the roof of the ship, "POLICE PLEASE COME HELP BECAUSE C-3PO HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THESS TWO MEN AND IS ON BOARD THIS SHIP. THANK YOU FROM R2-D2". However, due to the strange, twisted mind of the author's sister, the wrong police had come to their aid. The band, the Police, had come (a/n: confused? Ask your parents who The Police are). However, fortunately, the author snapped her fingers and lectured her sister so they all disappeared. The band, that is. Mo and Jo soon arrived at…

            "THE POLICE STATION? MO, YOU IDIOT, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME WE WERE HEADING FOR THE POLICE STATION!!"

            "Sorry Jo, I tried"

            "Grrr…"

            Fortunately, Mo was saved from the wrath of his partner when a figure approached. (a/n: The author's sister?? Hey, you're not supposed to be in this story!!)

            "Well, too bad, I'm in it anyway!"

            (A/N: Fine! But I hope you get eaten by a camel. Where were we? Oh yes.) This figure, closely followed by a large band of policemen, was carrying no other all powerful weapon than…

THE FRYING PAN OF DOOM!!!

DUN-DUN-DUN!!!!!

            The author's sister then walked up to the arguing bad guys, and announced, "Hand over C-3PO immediately, or I'll hit you both with the FRYING PAN OF DOOM!"

DUN-DUN-DUN!!!!

"On second thought, no matter what you do I'll hit you both with the FRYING PAN OF DOOM,"

DUN-DUN-DUN!!!

            "and then take C-3PO." She did so. Everyone cheered, with the exception of Jo and Mo, who were to busy being hit with the FRYING PAN OF DOOM

DUN-DUN-DUN!!!!

And C-3PO, who still had his head enveloped in a FRENCH HORN

DUN-DUN…wait a second, oops, that doesn't go there, never mind.