To my reviewers... this chapter isn't as funny, but tough luck. Wow, there's a lot of you...
Darth Warious: Hey, I love Luke! Don't DYE him...
jdp: It seems you need a bit of education, though I'm glad you were amused... see, even the best Star Wars fan (in fact, the better of them) will make fun of it. It's like Canadians making fun of Canada. We take offence if someone else does, but we're allowed to do it. I make fun of Star Wars because I love it to pieces. And I'm quite aware of the Jedi Code. When I wrote this originally, I didn't intend on posting it. That's why it had the Obi-Wan girlfriend comment. It was borrowed from Dark Rendevous, and it was Anakin who commented on Obi-Wan needing some girlfriend. "Tall, dark haired, and desperate for anyone", I think was the quote. And, just so you know, it was after Episode 3 that he went into seclusion, unless you didn't mean to write Episode 1. And the Jedi Code doesn't really say anything against not getting married. It just says "There is no emotion, there is no chaos, there is no passion, there is no ignorance, there is no death". If one considers marriage as passionate or emotional, then obviously it's forbidden. However, Ki-Adi Mundi was married, so it's not completely against the Code. ANYWAY... glad you thought it was funny.
Leigh the Wonderlord: Okay. Glad you liked it.
BEACHBLOND: It wasn't suppose to be realistic. It was suppose to be funny (as you observed).
sj17: Ah, pity Vader indeed... his fate will be far worse than refreshers yet!
Jandalf: Okay, then you can hug him. ;-) I only hug him in Anakin-form. And I'd prefer Jether or Xendor, ya know...
tonks: Heh. I wrote more.
DarthShanni: More! Mindtricks don't work on me, if that was your intent with the brackets...
Riverfox237: Mmm... I'm glad you liked it. And here's more! I'll try to keep it hystarical, though this chapter isn't so funny. It's more... foreboding.
vaders apprentice darth squishy: Wow, what a name you wear... and there's more. There's always more in my mind, it's just finding time to write it. Heh.
CHAPTER 3:
"AH... AHHHH... koo-pahkakakakaka...hack hack cough... ahhh... CHOOO!" Being the best way to describe the present sounds emitting from Darth Vader's helmet at the moment is not through text, go and inhale some pepper and start coughing and sneezing into a plastic cup while attempting to imitate Vader's breathing sounds to see how he really sounded like. I would not recommend you actually trying this unless you really don't know a thing about logic, of course.
"ACHOOO!"
The above output came from Lord Vader's mouthpiece on his mask, only a lot larger (try size twenty-eight Verdana fontface, and bolded, underlined, italicized, and possibly slightly yellow) and more sneeze-like. Unfortunately for the dramatic, evil, and terrifying Lord of the Sith, he had not only received hay fever from the flowers... he had also caught the flu from being in young Skywalker's presence.
"Cooohhh-hisss-hahahahahahkkkakkakakakkakakaka... CHOO!" Pity the Sith Lord with hay fever. And observe as his air vents slowly plug up with sticky yellow mucus that insists on getting plugged into the holes.
Reaching up with the Force, he proceeded to fling the phlegm from his helmet's airways, hitting a nearby stormtrooper in the back of the helmet. Greenish boogers slid down the once white and spotless armor, slime dripping into one of those convenient cracks which your hand cannot reach, but things can get into and tickle and torment you.
The stormtrooper whirled around...
The Imperial March stirred.
The stormtrooper paled. Of course, it was impossible to tell underneath the helmet and armor that this was occurring. After all, he was wearing white (nearly, anyway) armor that made him pale enough as it was.
Vader stared down at the stormtrooper.
"Aaahhh... ahhh... CHOO!"
The sudden sneeze proceeded to destroy all semblance of evil and forebodingness that the Sith Lord held, though the trooper shirked backwards a bit, offering a Kleenex with one hand. Vader took it, stared at it through his artificial vision, using it to clean a bit of the mucus from his helmet. I will have to go into my chambers, he determined, to clean all this glunk from my helmet's interior and my face before it dries.
He handed the used Kleenex back to the trooper who grimaced. Vader caught this through the Force, but made no move to choke the trooper. Oh no. Instead he reached out with the Force into a small level and shifted some of his cold bacteria towards the trooper's helmet and convinced them that the stormtrooper would make a nice home for a while.
He grinned slightly underneath the helmet, though the stretch made his burnt face hurt, and walked away.
The stormtrooper was seemingly relieved, walking off to dispose of the Kleenex. Dropping it into a nearby garbage chute, he sneezed.
Stang, he thought.
Returning to the stormtrooper quarters when his shift was over, the trooper took his helmet off, and sneezed some more, immediately heading over towards a nearby Kleenex box. It was being held by a short kid with flaxen hair.
"Aren't you a little short to be a stormtrooper?" the stormtrooper tried to ask, however, it was cut off by a series of wild sneezes. He was very relieved that he had taken his helmet off by that point.
The kid offered him several Kleenexes, and the stormtrooper—TK 152, though his friends called him Ted—took it gratefully, sneezing not so gratefully into the paper.
"Got a cold?" the kid asked sympathetically, sniffling slightly.
TK 152 nodded, sneezing again, and sitting down, looking pathetically pale.
"Gr... I mean, that's too bad."
TK 152 gave him a suspicious glance.
"I had a cold myself," offered the flaxen haired kid.
"Ah... ATCHOO!" The stormtrooper rubbed his nose ruefully, becoming aware that within a few hours of this his nose would begin to flake off and turn slightly red. "T...too... sniffle... bad."
"Yeah, it was." The kid stood up. "I'll go get some cold medication for you." He raised his one hand slightly, waving it just a bit. "Remember to come into contact with as many other stormtroopers as possible. You want them to gain an immunity to your cold."
TK 152 nodded in understanding. It seemed perfectly logical to him... after all, if everyone became immune to the cold, then, after all, no one could get it again. He gazed thoughtfully at the flowers that rested on a nearby silver desktop. They were pretty, he thought to himself. Just what was needed to brighten up a cheerless Empire. And a sick stormtrooper's day.
Remembering the kid's orders, he stood up and headed into the main room.
"Ah... ahh... CHOO!"
The stormtroopers in the room looked up simultaneously. "Yo, Ted, what's happening?"
"I've... ACHOO!... got a cold," TK 152 said mournfully. He sat down beside ST 763 who moved slightly away from him. As ST 763 wasn't wearing a helmet either, he felt a slight feeling of trepidation entering his bones.
TK 152 sneezed again.
ST 763 stood up. "That's too bad, brother," he noted. "Get well soon. I'm on duty." He grabbed his helmet and pulled it on just as TK 152 sneezed again, dabbing at his slightly teary eyes with a tissue.
"All... right... ATCHOO!"
ST 763 headed out towards the door. For some odd reason, he had a bad feeling about this. Or perhaps it was just the slight crawling sensation in the back of his throat. The tickly one. That felt sort of like he had inhaled a slimy feather...
Luke Skywalker returned a few minutes later with some cough syrup for the poor stormtrooper, but TK 152 was fast asleep on the couch, armor askew on the nearby chair. Luke shrugged, leaving the syrup on the table. As he did, he glanced at his hand. Gee, a red spot. That's odd...
He scratched at it mindlessly as he left the room.
