What great support! Here are replies for the reviews I received!

Little Author: I'm so glad. And maybe your yearning for Eugene the Frog will help you to fall in love with Filbert the Frog! Thank you!

wolfwhspers: Your words brought me smiles. That's exactly the review I could've hoped for.

I am Filbert's #1 Fan: Filbert appreciates the support. Your review kinda stood out, ya know? Heehee. Enjoy.

Jedi Knight 13: You may see this as a low, but I think it's the greatest thing that could happen to Vader. Maybe I'll change your mind! Thanks.

JediDaughter1: Do you read all my stories? Geesh. I'm so grateful for your support! Glad you liked it, and I hope you shall continue to love it!

xkalx: Good! Thanks!

Henceforth, readers, you shall be known as... just kidding.

But seriously, henceforth, imagine that each chapter title begins with "One Day" in case the chapter doesn't. You'll get it.

One day, Filbert and Anakin decided to sponge paint the kitchen.

"I've been thinking..." Anakin began, leaning back slightly in his chair. Filbert and Patrice looked up from their sections of the newspaper that was scattered all over the kitchen table.

"What?" Patrice almost cooed.

"I want to sponge paint the kitchen." Anakin said decidedly. Filbert smiled.

"That's a great idea!" Filbert agreed. "What color, Anakin?"

Patrice's eyes darkened as Filbert referred to him as Anakin. Since when was he allowed to? Speaking up, she smiled sweetly and said, "I think pink would be nice, Anakin."

Anakin's helmeted head swiveled in her direction. "Patrice, how MANY TIMES must I tell you NEVER. CALL. ME. ANAKIN!"

Patrice nodded moodily. "Yeah, sure."

Filbert looked thoughtful. "How about green?"

Patrice stood up. "No! You just want green to be the color because you're a frog!"

Anakin eyed Patrice, ready to defend Filbert. "No, green's a good idea. Much better than pink. And all this..." he gestured around at the walls, which were dingy gray, and had black trim along the floorboards. "...is making me gloomy."

Patrice sat down with a 'humph'. "Why not bubblegum pink? That's cheery and bright!"

"And stupid." Anakin murmured. "What loser paints their kitchen pink?" Then with a laugh, he added. "Your mom, that's who." Quietly of course.

"My mom's kitchen was pink, actually." Patrice said, trying to remain calm. "And the only reason you don't want pink is because you're a guy."

"Well, I'd say you're outnumbered then." Anakin said, Patrice imagining a cocky grin underneath his mask.

"What?" she asked coolly.

"Filbert and I outnumber you as the guys that use this kitchen, so we get to choose." Anakin stated simply.

Patrice leapt out of her chair. "NO! THAT'S NOT FAIR! THE FROG DOESN'T COUNT!"

Anakin rose as well. "HE SURE AS HELL DOES!"

Patrice's frown deepened. "VADER, HE'S A FROG, NOT A HUMAN BEING. HE SHOULDN'T EVEN BE TALKING!"

"AND NEITHER SHOULD YOU, BECAUSE I GET A HEADACHE EVERY TIME YOU DO!" Anakin shouted back.

Filbert, watching this exchange with concern, intervened. "Hey, guys, let's settle this in another way..."

Anakin sat down immediately. "Filbert's right."

Patrice remained standing. "No, he's not. I'm sick of his peace-loving ways. I'm sick of his green froggyness! I am sick of you ALWAYS defending him and always siding with him!"

Anakin replied simply. "Basically because he's right and you're wrong, Patrice."

Patrice stamped her foot. "I refuse to let you sponge paint the kitchen! Sponge paint is stupid anyway."

Anakin stood up again, appalled. "Sponge painting is the SHIZZLE, Patrice."

Patrice growled. "I beg to differ."

She sat down, practically snorting the orange soda that sat beside her in rage.

Filbert grimaced in disgust.

"C'mon, Filbert." Anakin announced, offering the frog his shoulder. "Let's go get some paint and some rollers at the paint store."

Patrice smiled peevishly. "Good luck finding a way to get paint when we're FLOATING IN SPACE!"

Anakin pointed a black gloved finger at her. "Just you wait."

The Imperial group manning the main command and control center were astonished when Darth Vader entered, striding purposefully up to the forst officer he could find. Turns out, it was Captain Needa.

"Captain Needa, inform those petty puny-minded folks down there controlling this hulking piece of crap that they are to pull a fast 180 and hightail it back to Coruscant before high noon!"

Needa, startled, spluttered. "I...you...but- he" He glanced quizzically at the little green creature that sat upon Vader's shoulder. "Uhhhhh."

Anakin eyed Needa. "Is there a problem?" His voice basically told Needa that there BETTER not be a problem.

Needa looked fearfully into the eyepieces of the mask. "Forgive me, my lord, but I do not believe this ship could make it to Coruscant before supper."

Anakin put crossed his arms in front of him. "It better darn well make it to Coruscant and you better darn well like it, Lorth Needa."

Needa nodded quickly. "Yes sir. Of course, sir... but ahhhhhh... we need the Emperor's approval to alter our course!"

"Crap." Anakin stated. "Why? You must know that disobeying me will result in your death."

Needa took a chance by stating boldly. "And you must know that you not getting the Emperor's permission will result in YOUR punishment."

Thinking a moment, Anakin nodded. "You've got a point."

"And Patrice would be there." Needa goaded gently.

Anakin shuddered. "I'm trying to escape her for a few hours... I'll be back, Needa. I'll convince him... somehow."

Anakin stalked off.

Filbert spoke up. "How do you plan to pull this one off, Anakin? You must have a plan."

"I actually do." Anakin said proudly.

"What is it then?" Filbert wondered.

"First I'll... well, I'll say... then I'll... ugghhh..." Anakin sighed. "I got nothing, Filbs, any ideas?"

"Sorry, Anakin. But you know how much your Master hates me. He'll NEVER listen to me."

Anakin smiled. "How could anyone hate you, Filbert?"

Filbert shrugged, just as Anakin came upon the door to Emperor Palpatine's quarters. He knocked timidly.

"Come in, outsider."

Anakin pushed the door open, and scrambled with difficulty through a beaded curtain. "Ummm... Master?"

"VADER! Come in!" Palpatine sat on the couch, Oprah blasting from his holovid. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Yes, actually, um, my Master, I am seeking your permission to head for Coruscant."

Palpatine's wrinkled brows lifted, scrunching his face up like a prune. "May I ask why, my apprentice?"

Anakin fumbled with words for a moment in his mind. "I would like to seek the purchase of some items on the planet, Master."

Palpatine eyed Anakin for several long seconds, and Anakin thought he was going to ask what those items were. Finally, he just smiled that sickly smile. "I give you permission, Lord Vader... on two conditions."

Anakin groaned inwardly. "What do you want, my Lord?"

"You will buy me some more toilet paper down there, I'm fresh out."

Anakin smirked uncomfortably. "Whatever you wish."

"And!" Palpatine said triumphantly. "You will accompany me to a gala next week to meet with members of that darned Imperial Senate..."

"Yes, my Master." Anakin said, though he hated such gatherings.

"You may go, then." Palpatine said, handing him a slip of paper telling the crew to turn around. "And hurry back, I'll miss ya."

"Uhhhhh..." Anakin said, unsure how to respond.

"LOL!" The Emperor yelled. "You should have seen to the look on your face... errr... mask."

Anakin started to back away. "But if I have a mask how did you see..."

"OMG! Shut yer trap, commercial break's over!" Palpatine yelled. "I mean I LYLAS, Vader, but you really G2G now!"

Anakin, getting afraid, and feeling Filbert's unease, began to leave, but had to ask. "Ummm, Master? You love me like a sister?"

Emperor Palpatine cackled. "LOL! JK!"

Anakin ran.

"TTYL!" Palpatine called after him. Then turning to the TV, he spoke. "BRB, Oprah, nature calls."

But soon, he found himself in quite the situation. "OMG! Vader better hurry the freak up with that toilet paper!"

Anakin, meanwhile, had regained his breath after running down the corridor away from his Master and now presented Captain Needa with eh slip of paper.

"Here, teacher, here's my permission slip. I can go on the field trip." Vader said sarcastically.

Later that night, Anakin stood atop a ladder rolling a paint roller across the dim gray walls, as Filbert used a children's paintbrush to help.

The color was a beautiful minty tea green.

"It looks like boogers." Patrice commented, sulking on the couch.

"YOU look like boogers." Anakin replied.