Chapter the First: They recycle horses, don't they?
The little, fluffy, soft bunny was hopping in the clover patch, feeling the soft grass on his little back. He stopped for a moment and smelled the breeze, the little whiskers on his little nose twitching. He hopped a few more steps and took a bite of the fresh, sweet grass.
And then Vader stepped on him.
"Squish," said bunny's guts.
Vader walked through the / the place. He needed to get some flowers to make bread cause that one really really mean guy said they needed 'flowers' to make bread cause he wanted to make bread.
"Make sure you get flour for the bread so we can take over the world and have something to eat and stuff," said that one really really mean guy in Vader's swirly flashback.
Vader was super excited to make bread. Then he could try out the new toaster that he just installed in his utility pack thing. He loved toast. Especially with lots of syrup. Wait, those were pancakes. But he did like toast. He'd put eggs on toast with lots of relish. Like his mommy made before she was sodomized with cacti until she died of a toe infection. Poor mommy. No more toast.
"Stop daydreaming about stuff, Darth!" said really really mean guy, slapping him with a mitten. "You need to be evil and get flour for the bread, wench."
I heart juice.
Vader hung his head in shame. All he was supposed to do was get some flour to make the evil bread, but he was letting everybody down. Everybody meaning only the really really mean guy. And the bunny.
"Quit letting everyone down, Vader you little shit of magpie thing with maggots and toe infections with a hint of mango. You are a disgrace to evil people. Yup. Stupid. Go get flour. At the store. Not the meadow. Wrong kind of flour. Moron."
Darth looked over and saw a store in the meadow.
"Store!" he said and ran inside. Along the way, he trampled over four more bunnies, eight caribou and fifteen platipi and a stork.
"Ow," they all said simultaneously.
A page!
"Squish said guts."
I would like to buy some flowers, said dArth.
And then he remembered he had to be evil so he stole them. And knocked out the cashier and took a roll of quarters and a book of stamps cuz he had a gross hobby of collecting such things.
And then he took a piece of linoleum.
"Sammy! Noooooooooo!' cried the canadian who saw his dead caribou trampled to death.
"I gots the flowers," said Vader as he presented the tastefully arranged gladiola, carnation, baby's breath, and fern flower… arrangement.
"Still wrong kind of flower, dip. Go have all your extremities cut off and catch on fire."
Vader felt bad cause he couldn't really do that, since he'd already done it once.
And he had indegistion from the Taco Bell he had last night. Plus the pitstop he made to eat clover in that meadow.
"Get flour, moron! If you have to, go to the neighbor's and ask for some. Fruitcake."
Darth decided to be polite and call instead of appearing. He took out the phone from his utility belt and dialed the number for his neighbor who happened to be a three-headed cactus-moose hybrid with blue tentacles that shot puss at its enemies. Her enemies happened to be all who existed.
Darth's neighbor, Virginia, answered the phone by blasting it out of the wall with her laser eyes.
"Hmm. Guess I'll have to go over without warning. And be rude." Decided Darth.
……………………………deh.
Really really mean guy overheard him and threw the phonebook at him, knocking off one of his robot arms. I am robot. "Don't be a pussy, pussy! You just go over there and smash open that door and take that flour. It belongs to you!"
"It does?"
"No. But once you take it, then it will."
"Okay," agreed Vader, picking up his arm as he went to the door.
Vader used his rocket boots to jet over to his neighbor's house and knocked on the door with his robot arm.
"RAAAAAAAAWWWRRRLLLLCH!" said Virginia from inside.
"This is Darth Vader from next door and I was just wondering if I could borrow some flour for my bread."
"…RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWRRRLLLLCCCHHHHH!"
"I meant could I HAVE some because you can't really borrow it."
"BOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRSCCCCCCCCCHT!"
"Oh. Okay."
So Darth sulked down the pathway hanging his head low.
"Christmastiiiiiiiiiime is heeeeeeeeeere…" sang a disembodied choir.
Vader hated Christmas. It always reminded him of that one time when that one juice performed phangocytosis on his hotdog. He loved hotdogs. But not quite as much as toast. Toast was the king of all… toastiness and stuff.
On the way back to the house, Vader ripped a whole geranium plant out of the ground to bring back. Maybe this was the type that would work.
Upon his return, really really mean guy demanded if he had gotten the flour.
"I got flower. But not flour," Vader said sadly, holding up the geranium.
"Actually, that will work," said really really mean guy, brushing off the sugar and spice and everything nice from the front of his pink frilly apron. "It adds flavor."
Vader felt mildly good about himself for once. His self esteem went up to negative .8.
"But, since you did something right, that means it was good, and we're supposed to be bad, and by being good you weren't bad and since bad is good you were good by being good and therefore bad, you yak saliva."
Vader's self esteem dropped back to its usual level and he went to pout in his room and reattach his robot arm.
On the way he saw a pinata and beat it with the arm to feel better and ended up getting all the candy out. He rejoiced for a moment and grabbed a handful of the delicious sugar conglomerates and went to stuff them in his mouth.
Then he remembered that he didn't have a mouth. He had a car grill from an 1974 Ford Pinto and a window bug screen for a mouth. So it was good they hadn't made toast cause then he wouldn't have been able to get it through the grill anyway.