Disclaimer: A long time ago … we weren't even born yet and already George Lucas had created some of the best movies ever! Of course, after we were born we got to see Anakin … he's so hot.

Authors' Note- Sorry it's been a while since we last updated. We have an excuse! Kaely ran away to Mexico for a while and got a green Mohawk. (Okay, that didn't really happen, we just got lazy). Anyway, here's chapter 3!

Thanks to: hEaRtS- We're glad you think that way because we have another weird drinking part ahead! Thanks for the review. The Mighty Possum- DeShaun, you really suck. I'm going to tie you to a chair and FORCE you to watch Star Wars. (From Lauren.) Thanks for at least reading the story. We love pity reviews! (Kaely) QueenMeep- You think we're witty! You have no idea how cool that sounds coming to a couple of insane freaks who bought lightsabers for each other at Wal-Mart today! Thanks! KillinBuddy- Okay, we think you're a freak and we're really starting to wonder about you. Thanks for the review … it made us laugh. Weirdo. InjuredPelican- Fine, call it a Dramomedy! Humor is good with a plot attached. Kaely is the only one of us that actually writes the drama, so don't blame me! Phantom'sJediBandieGirl- Well thank you very much! (We love to be called clever.) Fuzzybunny11889- Thanks for the review Mae! Although, in all fairness, Lauren says you suck because Less Than Jake supposedly rocks and cows kick ass!

This chapter dedicated to Bob the Tree and Jeanette, without whom it would really suck.

An Unexpected Guest

Chapter 3

I haven't gone back to Obi-wan's cell for a few days now. I can feel his presence like some dark, suffocating cloud constantly weighing on me, surrounding me…. It's so annoying!

I try not to think about him – the way he just barged into my life, causing me nothing but trouble, and ruining my party. It's just so hard though, not to really think about him, when there's still so much I want to yell and rage and storm at him for. I want to cause him as much pain as he caused me that night on Mustafar.

In the meantime, I settle for ignoring the pull of his presence in the Death Star and instead concentrate on tending to my plants, which really don't seem to be doing too well at the moment.

"Come on, Bob," I croon to a miniature potted pine tree. Its needles are falling out everywhere and Palpatine has been complaining about the mess. I've affectionately named it Bob, which is the Sith name that I would've had if I'd been given the choice. Obi-wan was right about one thing; 'Vader' is a pretty lame name. Somehow, though, I don't think old Sidious would have gone for 'Darth Bob.'

"You can do it," I say. "Come on, perk up."

As I give it some water, however, yet another branch breaks off. I don't think plants like space, and I suppose this will be my last attempt to brighten up the place. All for the best, really. I think the clones are allergic anyway; their sneezing was really getting on my nerves.

I throw the dead branches away and then move decisively down a silent corridor. Although I know I'll hate myself for doing it, I really do need to speak to Obi-wan. He's a prisoner, and however much I'd like to do otherwise, I can't just leave him down there without at least torturing him for information. As I start to walk to his cell, though, I see Palpatine running toward me. He's wearing a shower cap and holding his little, yellow, rubber ducky that he lovingly named Phil.

"Where are you going?" he asks, staring at me from those fruit punch circled eyes.

"To talk to Obi-wan," I sigh.

He looks angry and jealous for some reason before he replies abruptly, "You don't need to see Kenobi."

We are both silent for a moment as I ponder the reasons why he's acting so especially odd about me talking to Obi-Wan. Then, in order to break the uncomfortable silence, I say, "Hey, are you about to take a shower or something?"

"Yeah," he replies. "You want to join me?"

"Um … why would I want to do that?" I ask, starting to get a little freaked out.

"Well, er, we're, um, in a drought right now. I just wanted to help you save some water," he says with a wrinkly smile.

"Uh, thanks maybe later," I say, still trying to work out how we can be in a drought when we're floating around in space. "I really should go and see Obi-wan. Bye!" I run off hurriedly before the conversation could get any creepier. Sometimes I wonder about that Palpatine.

I walk along a series of dark corridors, my urgent need to see Obi-wan growing ever stronger with each step. As I walk, though, I begin to notice that the hallways seem strangely deserted today. I stop suddenly, listening intently through the annoying rasp of my breathing. I feel a hand close around my arm, and before I can move to attack, I am pulled through a nearby doorway. I start to twist around to face whoever it is that just grabbed me, but I'm give a heart attack (my heart is under all this metal somewhere) as cries of 'Surprise!' ring out at me from all directions. I turn to see Boba Fett standing next to me, and he quickly explains that they all decided to throw me a second birthday party because the first one was so rudely interrupted. After thanking my guests (a rare occurrence for me) I once again join in the festivities of a purely Dark Side ridden wild party.

I see that they've hung a vast disco ball from the ceiling; its shimmering light casts sparkling spots all over my suit. Palpatine has already arrived since our brief encounter in the corridor. He has done away with his shower cap and is now performing some odd (and slightly disturbing) moves on the dance floor. Using the force to propel himself through the air, he starts break dancing amid a circle of curious clones. They let out gasps of awe and disgust as he flings himself upside down and onto his head, spinning around to cause his robes to fly downward, exposing the whole galaxy to his scrawny, pale legs and his slightly torn underwear.

I feel bile creeping up my throat as I try not to vomit. Fiercely attempting to shield my eyes from this unpleasant sight, I duck over to the punch table where I grab a paper party cup full of some weird blue-green liquid and down the substance in one gulp through my mask.

As I'm admiring the taste of the juice, someone comes up behind me, throws his hands over my eye-holes, and at the top of his lungs, yells, "GUESS WHO?"

"Uh … Ki-Adi-Mundi?" I say, not having a clue who in the name of Force it could be.

"What? Who's that?" the stranger asks.

"Oh, well he was just this Jedi. He's dead now, but he had a weird shaped head and … uh … never mind." I finish lamely.

"You guessed that guy before me? I thought we were best friends!" he shouts, and then runs off crying before I can see his face.

Who the hell was that? I think to myself.

Feeling completely disillusioned and still a little nauseas now with the foreign punch churning in my stomach (yes, that's somewhere in here too), I throw myself down into a nearby chair. For some reason, this party just doesn't seem as fun as the last. The cake looks just as delicious, the guests are as lively as ever, but none of it is really special or exciting in any way.

And then, I don't know if it's the punch or what, but I feel a sudden sense of foreboding, like something has gone wrong. I rise from my chair, feeling as if I need to look for something that I've somehow lost. Glancing under tables, and gaining strange looks as if I too had been break dancing, I begin to search for whatever is gone….

It hits me even before the seemingly terrified clone trooper begins to approach. Obi-wan has gone missing.

Authors' note- Okay, we know it's painfully short and we're not really all that happy with it, but chapter four should be better. Hopefully it'll be up sooner as well … we've been delayed lately due to fall break, which makes more sense in our minds than it probably does as we tell it to you. Thanks as always for reading, and reviews, well, we LOVE THEM! (For lack of sounding desperate). May the Force be with you all!