Authors: mavjade and one we shall call jace84z (Don't go looking for his profile because it doesn't exist. This is my fiance' and while he technically doesn't write fanfiction, he did co-author this!)
Timeframe: Post ROTJ to the very far future
Characters: Luke, Ben, Cade, OC's
Genre AU, Parody, Semi-Crossover with Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Summary: It really can't be explained.
Disclaimer: Star Wars and its likeness belongs to George Lucas. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and its likeness belongs to Douglas Adams. Also, to anyone whose work is included in this (accidentally or intentionally) and not listed above, the same applies. We made no money off of this, nor would we want to.
Authors' Notes: PLEASE READ BEFORE READING! This is, as the title indicates, a parody and is only intended to be funny. Any offense is unintentional and we are very sorry if any is taken. Please remember that 'Mockery is the highest form of flattery.'

(This is a mutant half-child born of our mutual and collective insanity.)

Not quite in the beginning, but not really in the middle either, it was more like... the bemiddle. (Yes, I like that, the bemiddle.) Grand Master Luke Skywalker recreated an order, and while it wasn't bad, it wasn't good either. Being the only Jedi left, he did what he could.

But seeing as he wasn't really the only Jedi left - merely the only one remaining of the beginning - he had plenty of shoulders to stand on. Learning (cough, cough... stealing) as he went (and therefore changing his mind every um, er... adventure, or so) he put together a New Order, scavenged from the ragged, bleached bones of the Old. (Poetic, don't you think?)

Full of hot-headedness, immaturity, plenty of teenage angst, and a plethora of opposing views (strangely enough, all fitting descriptors of the average Corellian; but I digress...), the Jedi Grand Master beheld his creation and thought it good, or rather, strongly neutral (since that is the ireal/i opposite of evil). --It is important to note here that Luke Skywalker's definition of neutrality greatly differs from our own. Ours: a lack of all defining qualities of either the Light or the Dark; his: healthy averaging quantities of both.--

For a time, it seemed he would both live and keep this title forever. Those who attempted to claim a position as his rightful heir--and thereby allow the Son of the Chosen One to abdicate his throne--received a bombad smiting from the Great and All-powerful Flanneled One, whose word is final.

And so, an heir was born; the Son of the Son of the Chosen One: Ben Skywalker (likely so-named because Obi-wan Skywalker is entirely too... aberrant... confounding... conspicuous... outlandish... atrocious. In a word: predictable.)

It was only fitting then, unlike Ben's little feet in his father's huge boots (Though Luke is rather short, those are still some pretty big steps to follow.), that he should want absolutely anything to do with it. (And can we blame him? I mean, fighting strange aliens with mutilated faces who wear crabs, wield snakes and fly rocks isn't exactly a cup of tea, now is it? So it's only natural, then, that using a mystical energy field that reminds one exclusively of that time in order to fight off a bug infestation of galactic proportions would be, shall we say, a little daunting.) (Of course, as this is the abridged version, all of the supposedly dead Jedi who crop up around this time, as well as those who suffer identity crises, shall be omitted from this account. But now, back to the story...)

But of course, the Son of the Son of the Chosen One can never truly escape his destiny, and that of his entire family: to bring balance to the Force. And so, his triumphant return (if only because it even happened) to the Force led inexorably toward the throne of his father, and Grand Mastership of the New Jedi Order.

(Blah, blah, blah... rant, rant, rant... etcetera, etcetera, etcetra... and several very long and boring chapters of "begats" later...) (Remember this is the abridged version... )
The Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Son of the Chosen One (Empirically: The Son 40(of the Son) of the Chosen One, or just the 42nd One for short (And do feel free to count them up... )) no longer even goes by the name of Skywalker. After a rather short, but a regrettable incident with the infamous Cade Skywalker, the family decided to change their surname. (After all, they still knew their purpose, and the Order would still recognize their Stewardship, and so it really didn't matter, anyway.) (Also, don't panic! Their rule was a fair and just one (Mostly, anyway. The occasional backslidden One was always, at least eventually, redeemed.), and they were loved by all of their devoted followers.) (Sans the support of some of those pesky Corellians, but they were always rather insular anyway, and who really cares? Yet another digression, so let us continue...)

(Now THAT was a paragraph... )

Beaux, in the tradition of his forefathers, sought to bring balance to the Force. At the culmination of a very long, multigenerational, devastating and even (at times) downright frustrating war, two were all that remained. The 41st Grand Master of the New Jedi Order, Defender of the Light, 42nd One, and his enemy, Darth Sloth: the Last Dark Lord of the Sith, Sustainer of the Dark, charged with the destruction of all Jedi and the total eclipse of the Force. (The only thing better than that imagery is a holo... )

Here, at the end of all things (well, maybe not everything, but certainly of this abridged volume), is the fateful meeting of the evil Darth Sloth and out very own, Master Beaux. In a skillful show of swordsmanship (WAY too bloody fast to track, move by move) Beaux Flekks finally defeates his enemy, Sloth. However, in his moment of triumph, he fails to notice the (rather large-ish) shaft by which they fight; and turning, falls, to a (most assuredly) certain doom. "I have a bad feeling about this," were his last words as he fell, but not his last thought.

I've finally done it. Yes, I've done it. I've balanced the Force by balancing the equation. In the end, zero always has to equal zero. Quaint.

(But wait, there is more. For you see, in these final moments, Beaux has his very first, and last, chance to evaluate that most puzzling of answers. It is widely known that the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything is in fact 42. Unfortunately, until now, no one has quite been able to figure out the question to which that answer goes. It is in Grand Master Flekks' final moment in which he achieves his greatest victory. He knows the question, and it will echo in his mind for the rest of his (now very short) life.

How many Ones does it take to balance the Force

THE END

(Now you may applaud, groan, laugh, cry, or whatever your heart's desire may be.)

P.S. With apologies to George Lucas... and thanks for all the fish!