The Adventures of the Pied Pietts
*Whatever* #4!
"Whatever!?" objected Lilem, pointing to the word.
"Well, what do you think this is? A book? A magazine series? A television series?" replied Piett, wading through the crying children. One clung to his leg. "Get off," Piett ordered the child, who showed no sign of understanding.
"Piett, it's a baby, it can't understand English."
"What? Ingish?"
"English. E-N-G-L-I-S-H. You call it Basic, I think. The language we're speaking."
"Ah," said Piett, as if a light has just gone on in his head. "Well, what do I do about the baby?"
"Ignore it."
Piett tried. Really hard. But when he looked down at his feet again, there were three babies hooked onto his boots, two on the left and one on the right. Then he started to smell something quite unpleasant.
"Lilem, what's that?"
"What?" Lilem replied, fiddling with a leftover lightsaber.
"That smell."
Lilem sniffed the air lightly. "What? Kerosene? Gunpowder?"
"No, don't you smell it?" Piett wrinkled his nose in distaste.
Again, Lilem sniffed at the air. A terrible look spread across her face.
"Piett, we have a problem."
"What is it?" Piett replied innocently.
"Okay, how do I explain this? Come here and sit down."
With a noticeable show of effort, Piett marched through the ocean of wailing babies up to the stage. When he had completed his difficult trek, there were four more babies on his legs. They were starting to pile up. Dragging them carefully (regulations could be so strict when it came to killing human children and maintaining comedy at the same time), Piett seated himself in the director's chair, across from Lilem. "Yes?" he asked.
"Okay," breathed Lilem, putting the lightsaber down and crossing her legs. Piett was unable to even move his legs due to the seven babies located there. "I'm sure you know all about biological processes?"
"Of course, I'm not an idiot."
"Well, perhaps you don't have a lot of experience with young children--"
"No, I don't," interrupted Piett gruffly, and obviously in a bad mood.
"Will you stop interrupting!? Anyways, young children do not have control over every function. That's what diapers are for."
"You mean . . . ?"
"Yes."
For a brief moment, Piett sat very quietly and looked at Lilem. Very slowly, he said, "Lilem, get them off me."
"Don't overreact--" warned Lilem, raising her hand defensively.
"I'm not overreacting. I'M STARK RAVING MAD!" And with that, Piett pulled the babies off, standing up and kicking them away.
"Piett, no!!" exclaimed Lil--
At once, the censor appeared and placed a hand on Piett's shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, but if you continue to harm those children, I'll be forced to write you out of this story."
"Who the h--- are you?" asked Piett, only one of the words was marked out with a beeping noise. Just enough of the word was left to tell what it was.
"He's a FOX censor," whispered Lilem into Piett's ear. "They call themselves censors, but they leave just enough of the word left so you know what it is. Fascinating, hm?"
"Fascinating, I'm sure. Now, get the h--- out of my story! And quit the censoring!"
"Can't. It's my job."
"I'm afraid I'm with Piett on this one, Mr. Censor."
"Please, call me Joe."
"Fine, Joe," replied Lilem, scowling. "You can't start censoring us now. We've already done a whole lot of violence that could have been censored, so it's unfair to start censoring now."
"No, it's fair," explained Joe, "because at first, your story was just a fanfic, and there are plenty of dirtier ones out there, but now it's attracted corporate attention, and we want to make it into a Saturday Morning Cartoon."
"Here's what I think of your 'Saturday Morning Cartoons!'" yelled Piett, picking up a television camera. He tried to throw it, but it stopped inches above Joe's head. Joe grinned.
"It's no use," whispered Lilem, lightly touching Piett's shoulder. "There's only one solution."
Quickly, Lilem ran over to one of the computers used by the tech crew. Naturally, it had Internet access, and naturally, the most recent sites visited were for porn. The censor quickly blotted out the site addresses, but that wasn't important. Lilem typed in a new address.
"What are you doing?" asked Piett.
"Just sit tight," replied Lilem, moving the mouse around and clicking a few links. Soon, she had what she wanted. After checking the printer connection, she told the computer to print a few documents. She waited a moment for them to print and brought them over for Piett to see.
"What's this?"
"This," said Lilem triumphantly, "is proof that you are a Jedi, and in the prequels."
Piett looked at the pictures, understanding what they meant. With a grin, he turned towards the censor. "CENSOR THIS!"
With a burst of Force-energy, Piett electrocuted the censor on the spot. Joe fizzled into nothingness.
"Well done!" applauded Lilem. "Too bad you're not really a Jedi!"
THE END
NEXT TIME: What about Baby Poop? And doesn't that prove Piett is a Jedi? Beats me!
*Whatever* #4!
"Whatever!?" objected Lilem, pointing to the word.
"Well, what do you think this is? A book? A magazine series? A television series?" replied Piett, wading through the crying children. One clung to his leg. "Get off," Piett ordered the child, who showed no sign of understanding.
"Piett, it's a baby, it can't understand English."
"What? Ingish?"
"English. E-N-G-L-I-S-H. You call it Basic, I think. The language we're speaking."
"Ah," said Piett, as if a light has just gone on in his head. "Well, what do I do about the baby?"
"Ignore it."
Piett tried. Really hard. But when he looked down at his feet again, there were three babies hooked onto his boots, two on the left and one on the right. Then he started to smell something quite unpleasant.
"Lilem, what's that?"
"What?" Lilem replied, fiddling with a leftover lightsaber.
"That smell."
Lilem sniffed the air lightly. "What? Kerosene? Gunpowder?"
"No, don't you smell it?" Piett wrinkled his nose in distaste.
Again, Lilem sniffed at the air. A terrible look spread across her face.
"Piett, we have a problem."
"What is it?" Piett replied innocently.
"Okay, how do I explain this? Come here and sit down."
With a noticeable show of effort, Piett marched through the ocean of wailing babies up to the stage. When he had completed his difficult trek, there were four more babies on his legs. They were starting to pile up. Dragging them carefully (regulations could be so strict when it came to killing human children and maintaining comedy at the same time), Piett seated himself in the director's chair, across from Lilem. "Yes?" he asked.
"Okay," breathed Lilem, putting the lightsaber down and crossing her legs. Piett was unable to even move his legs due to the seven babies located there. "I'm sure you know all about biological processes?"
"Of course, I'm not an idiot."
"Well, perhaps you don't have a lot of experience with young children--"
"No, I don't," interrupted Piett gruffly, and obviously in a bad mood.
"Will you stop interrupting!? Anyways, young children do not have control over every function. That's what diapers are for."
"You mean . . . ?"
"Yes."
For a brief moment, Piett sat very quietly and looked at Lilem. Very slowly, he said, "Lilem, get them off me."
"Don't overreact--" warned Lilem, raising her hand defensively.
"I'm not overreacting. I'M STARK RAVING MAD!" And with that, Piett pulled the babies off, standing up and kicking them away.
"Piett, no!!" exclaimed Lil--
At once, the censor appeared and placed a hand on Piett's shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, but if you continue to harm those children, I'll be forced to write you out of this story."
"Who the h--- are you?" asked Piett, only one of the words was marked out with a beeping noise. Just enough of the word was left to tell what it was.
"He's a FOX censor," whispered Lilem into Piett's ear. "They call themselves censors, but they leave just enough of the word left so you know what it is. Fascinating, hm?"
"Fascinating, I'm sure. Now, get the h--- out of my story! And quit the censoring!"
"Can't. It's my job."
"I'm afraid I'm with Piett on this one, Mr. Censor."
"Please, call me Joe."
"Fine, Joe," replied Lilem, scowling. "You can't start censoring us now. We've already done a whole lot of violence that could have been censored, so it's unfair to start censoring now."
"No, it's fair," explained Joe, "because at first, your story was just a fanfic, and there are plenty of dirtier ones out there, but now it's attracted corporate attention, and we want to make it into a Saturday Morning Cartoon."
"Here's what I think of your 'Saturday Morning Cartoons!'" yelled Piett, picking up a television camera. He tried to throw it, but it stopped inches above Joe's head. Joe grinned.
"It's no use," whispered Lilem, lightly touching Piett's shoulder. "There's only one solution."
Quickly, Lilem ran over to one of the computers used by the tech crew. Naturally, it had Internet access, and naturally, the most recent sites visited were for porn. The censor quickly blotted out the site addresses, but that wasn't important. Lilem typed in a new address.
"What are you doing?" asked Piett.
"Just sit tight," replied Lilem, moving the mouse around and clicking a few links. Soon, she had what she wanted. After checking the printer connection, she told the computer to print a few documents. She waited a moment for them to print and brought them over for Piett to see.
"What's this?"
"This," said Lilem triumphantly, "is proof that you are a Jedi, and in the prequels."
Piett looked at the pictures, understanding what they meant. With a grin, he turned towards the censor. "CENSOR THIS!"
With a burst of Force-energy, Piett electrocuted the censor on the spot. Joe fizzled into nothingness.
"Well done!" applauded Lilem. "Too bad you're not really a Jedi!"
THE END
NEXT TIME: What about Baby Poop? And doesn't that prove Piett is a Jedi? Beats me!