Leather pants were definitely the most uncomfortable piece of clothing ever created.
This was Obi-Wan Kenobi's thought as he strutted down the hallways of the Jedi Temple in shining, tight and ravishing leather pants. He watched as several female Jedis' mouths dropped open as he strolled by.
//Beat THAT, Sandboy!//he gloated to himself, as he continued to strut.
A gasp came to his lips. He could see his stupid, idiot, Sith-forsaken apprentice of his walking towards him from the other end of the hallway, groupies in tow.
It was a standoff.
The two men faced each other, both wishing that they had magical powers to hurt the other. Wait, they do have magical... ohh, never mind.
Anakin sneered at his master, taking in the flashy leather pants. "Ha. Now you've resorted to using clothing to promote your sexiness. Tsk, tsk, Master. It's no use in trying to outdo me, isn't that right gang?" he said, addressing the mob behind him.
They didn't respond, shuffling their feet and staring down at the floor tiles.
Anakin's jaw dropped. "Guys...??"
One of them cleared her throat, an older Padawan by the name of Elisia Mallora. "Uh, well, Anakin..."
"Yeah?!" he asked nervously, afraid of the answer.
"You're just not... equipped like Obi-Wan."
At this Obi-Wan began to cackle. "Hahahaha! I win, you stupid apprentice! Come ladies," he purred, beckoning Anakin's groupies forwards with a dazzling smile. They barely held in their screams as they darted past Anakin towards Obi-Wan. "We'll have our own... private party, without the kid."
With one girl one both arm, Obi-Wan turned and strolled down the hallway, turning back only to offer a gloating grin to his seething Padawan.
*Man, it's been a long time. Hope people still read this.*