Chapter 14
Mark of Le Critiqué
What will you be having this evening, sir?
Oh, I'll have a helping of morbid turnaround with a side of confusion please.
An excellent choice, sir.
Hrrrrgh… What...?
(Cope opens his eyes and slowly rises from his lying position. Looking around and seeing nothing but canopy, he gets up only to feel the aches in his limbs caused by the landing. Fully standing, he spots Sam Jackson and Stan in the midst of recovery as well)
Sam Jackson: Aww f*** my back is killing me. Least nothing's broken, though my jacket's torn. Ain't that a b***h...
Cope: Where's Squishy?
Stan: Um, uh... oh! There he is.
(Points over to a nearby spot where the bloodied corpse of Hiryuu the Wind Drake lay. The Jawa Jedi is on his knees before the fallen creature in over-dramatized fashion)
Squishy: WHYYYYYY? How could this happen a second time? Oh Gaming Gods, why is it the awesome reptiles you always take? First you kill off Slydra, and now Hiryuu. He was supposed to live! Why did it have to be something so innocent and majestic?!
Cope: Wow, I honestly didn't think you were that invested in him.
Squishy: I'm not. I just figure I'd get the tension of another near-death experience out of my system. (Stands up) Now that I'm unwound, is everyone okay?
Cope: Yeah. Just fine, miraculously enough.
Squishy: No kidding, considering how far we fell. Even luckier we got over land when we dropped.
Sam Jackson: (As Tom McCourt from "Cell") Here lies the dead, dust of the earth, and here are we the living, poor and needy; Lord, think of us. You are our help and our deliverer; O my God, do not delay. Amen.
Stan: That… was awfully poignant, Sam.
Sam Jackson: (Normal) What was?
Cope: We should hurry and find the others before we end up like that dragon.
Squishy: Any idea where they went?
Cope: No clue.
(Nearby, a barrel takes aim. In an instant, a hole explodes near Cope's foot, sending up a sharp spray of dirt)
Stan: Whoa!
Sam Jackson: Who the f*** shot that!? (Another shot answers, sending up more dirt close to Sam Jackson) Gah F***!
Cope: We gotta get out of here!
Stan: Where to?
Cope: Anywhere!
(They all make a run into the woods as the ground and foliage gets tattered up by bullets)
(Somewhere else. The other Jedi and Gray watch on as Lann tends to a dying Draco, while nearby the corpse of the other Wind Drake is covered in some leaves and branches)
Lann: You gotta hang in there, Draco! You're too cool to die!
Draco: (Cough) Lannius, you are a kind lad. You have a heart that can be at home in any dragon. But, that kindness isn't enough to mend these wounds. (Cough) Even if it could, I'm far too old to last for much longer. (Cough)
Lann: Don't say that! You're still one strapping dragon packing loads of heat. You can get through this I know it!
Draco: (Cough) If you truly know me, then you'd know I'd want this.
Lann: Whuh?
Draco: You knew my name, so you must know about me. The land from which I hail from, I left woe to many a human that never deserved any. Before I could fix that mistake, I was spirited away to this place, left to stew in my own guilt. (Cough) Maybe fate chose me to die this way, because then it would have meant that I helped some worthy cause through sacrifice. I sensed great urgency in your hearts, so I knew you had something to do: something of dire importance. So tell me: Am I wrong, Lannius? (Cough) Had risking my life been in vain? (Cough cough)
Lann:...No. No it wasn't. You did real good, man.
Draco: Then might I make one final request?
Lann: What is it, Draky?
Draco: (Cough cough) Permission to die, Captain? (Cough)
Lann: (Teary-eyed) Aye. Permission granted, soldier. Report to Dragon Heaven on the double.
Draco: When I get there, should I meet the Maker, I'll put in a recommendation to have you admitted when your time comes.
Lann:…That's the greatest possible thing you could do for me, my friend.
Draco: So long, Lannius…
(He dies. Mournful bagpipes play as Lann bows his head and the former dragon turns transparent before dissipating into yellow balls of light. After a mournful moment Lann slowly stands up with his head still hung, then he pulls out his sword and plants it in the earth where Draco bid his final farewell. We switch over to Gray, who is wearing a plaid cap and playing the bagpipes. Anna comes up to him)
Anna: Where'd you get that?
Gray: (Stops playing) I harvested the Wind Drake's stomach.
Anna: And you got it cleaned, dried and piped this quick?
Gray: Since when did Dragon Slayers have to explain their bagpipe-making cred? All you need to know is that I'm multi-skilled like that.
Anna: Oh, okay then. It's still giving me a headache. (Snatches bagpipe, stabs it and tosses it away)
Gray: (Hat falls off) Aww, me pipes….
(Lann comes over looking all serious)
Lann: I'm gonna get the b****rd that did this to Draco.
Sylvia: How are you going to do that exactly? We barely know where we are.
Sara: And we still need to find Squishy, Sam, Stan and Alex.
Will: We're gonna have to start looking for them then.
Jo: So no moping around, alright Lann?
Lann: I suppose.
Sally: I wonder who exactly would shoot at us in the first place.
Rick: And with such precision. Land was still a good ways down.
Sally: Could it have been—
(Stan runs by)
Stan: Hey Sal! (Is gone)
Sally: Stan?
(Squishy runs through)
Squishy: Make way! (Gone)
Sylvia: And your father too!
(Cope runs by)
Cope: Help!
(Gone. Sam Jackson follows)
Sam Jackson: Yaaaaah! (Gone)
Anna: What the blazes are they running from?
(Dirt starts flying up from a trail of bullets)
Jo: From that! Flee!
(Everyone goes after the other runners)
Lann: Whoops, can't forget this!
(Snatches his sword as he runs past it. In the thicker sections of forest, the main group catches up to the remaining four)
Anna: Where were you guys?
Cope: Crash site; Squishy mourning; somewhere near.
Jo: Who's shooting at us?
Squishy: I don't know! I don't have x-ray vision!
Anna: It's called the Force, dingus!
Squishy: I'm just a Jedi, not a clairvoyant! Don't be hatin'!
(More shots torment the fleeing group. Up on a high ledge a good distance away we see the smoking barrel, and on the other end manning the thing is the larger-than-life stalker John Blubsoe)
John: That's right, little rodents. Stick to the path like the good civil servants that you are.
(Looks through the scope and aims. Down below, some bullets tear through a tree, bringing it down to block the group's escape route)
Stan: Dang!
Jo: That way!
(They go another way, bullets ripping through things around them all the while)
Sam Jackson: Normally I'm the one who's got suckas on the run; this really hasn't been my week!
(John continues to aim and fire at key spots, leading the heroes down a path cordoned by bullets. Soon they enter an area where the view is blocked, causing John to lower his weapon)
John: Perfect. Now for the true fun, heh heh.
(He hefts up his rifle and leaves. Back to our pursuees)
Jo: Hey everyone, stop! They stopped firing!
(Everyone screeches to a halt in a clearing where they pant)
Gray: How low down can you get? Firing while concealed: What a cheap approach!
Lann: But look what it's done to us. I may have to get into rifle training.
Will: I offer courses at fifty creds a sesh. Guaranteed proficiency in under a month for any firearm.
Sara: Worry about promoting yourself when we're out of this mess, Will.
Squishy: Too much hectic running. Need break.
John: Tired? You're supposed to be Master Jedi!
(Hopping downward among several ledges, setting off a hefty rumble with each landing, comes the camoed critic with his rifle strapped to his back. He lands before the Jedi and others, forming a small crater around his feet)
John: Tireless; driven; undeterred; righteous upholders of truth and justice. Heroes such as yourselves should never be in need of respite nor convalescence. Or have I and the rest of the galaxy at large been setting our expectations ludicrously high?
Anna: Oh God it's you again!
John: Yes, it is I: John Blubsoe! The man who presented himself as a worthy travel companion only to be wrongfully rejected based on personal prejudice.
Sam Jackson: Uh, scuse me? The f*** do you mean by "personal prejudice"? You're a straight up creep!
Sara: You got rejected out of fear of indecency you maniac!
John: And yet you travel with that horny potato no problem! Clearly you objected to my looks, and perhaps my manner of speech. If that was the case you could have just told me upfront, but instead tried to pull the wool over my unrelenting, piercing eyes. Group capacity maxed out; just how imaginatively bankrupt can you guys get?
Sylvia: Coming off as incredibly demeaning with every other sentence really isn't making you appear sympathetic.
John: Well I don't give a frippery what you think because I don't even want to be a part of your sissy, rubber-necked squad. In fact, you'll be shocked to know that I never wanted to be in your party in the first place! (Dun-Dun-DUN!)
Rick: Say what?
Cope: Then why did you come grovelling to join us?
John: Oh, for a very simple reason, fair Alex. But I believe another, more pressing revelation is in order. Would you believe that I am a Sith?
Lann: You? A Sith? Get real, Butterball. Like any Sith would be caught dead in that pattern of camo.
(Suddenly his sword comes out of its sheath and goes over to John, where it floats upright over John's open palm. Everyone is dumbstruck)
John: I'll keep this short. Since a young age I was well aware of my powers, and was also into Sith studies as a hobby. Exercising manipulation and intimidation through use of the Force never failed to amuse me. In time I began to see people's emotions and later learned how to bend them to my will to produce pleasing results. And since I used these techniques to tear down the moral foundations of every person I scrutinized just for sheer enjoyment, the career of a full-time critic was a no-brainer in terms of an ingenious cover and steady source of income.
Squishy: Of course: No one would suspect a critic of being a Sith. They're paid to be regularly cynical and mean towards everything.
Cope: Come to think of it, they often act similarly to a lot of Sith.
John: (Chuckles) That's no coincidence. Here's another shocker: They are Sith!
Sally: *Gasp* Even Ebert and Roeper?
John: No, actually; those guys are just liberals. They operate in wholly different sphere of unpleasantness.
Sally: Huh...
Stan: So why did you want to join us, despite being a Sith?
Lann: And who the f**k gave you permission to grab my sword?
John: I wanted to get within your ranks for one simple reason, Stanley: Subterfuge.
Stan: Huh?
Lann: If you could just toss that back to me?
John: (Still ignoring Lann) They say the quickest way to destroy an enemy is from within. My plan was to get among you, snag some incriminating evidence and learn your darkest secrets. The ones you would never share amongst yourselves. Those photos you took from me was my first attempt on accruing possible dirt from the outside. Had you let me in, I would've sown the seeds of doubt with my expertly extracted intelligence. Mistrust would've run rampant, with each of you snapping at one another with contempt, envy, exaggerated favoritism, uncertainty, the whole nine yards of civil discontent. Once good friends you would soon begin questioning each other, which would escalate into arguments, arguments into fist fights, then lighsaber fights, space fights, senate fights, bullfights, cock fights, messy pillow fights, pillow-on-pillow fights, suicide Ewok runs, and finally total organizational meltdown and personal self-destruction.
With your Order a smoldering ash heap I'll begin muscling my way into the Senate and become the next big bad Chancellor. With my newfound political status I'll then replace all major figures in the galaxy with altered clones of myself. They will continue things as normal, but only I will know that it is I and I alone running the show! And as that's happening I'll have children sent to my office so that I may say things that will make them cry as I stuff myself with Beef Wellington coupled with the finest wines. It will be a new galactic order that critics like myself will flourish in, except all the critics will have been liquidated because I'm highly insecure and I can be the only critic! And no one will be able to stop me because I'll be rich, large and in charge and no tribunal could ever affect me! None I say! Muahahahahahahahahahahaha! It'll be utter perfection! Hahahahaha!
(Some silence)
Will: You… are one twisted, deranged individual.
John: Pff. Of course a Jedi would be so shortsighted before the breadth of my brilliance.
Rick: More like mouth-foaming stupidity, which is what you are if you think you can just break us apart like that.
Squishy: Yeah! We've been through too much and are too tight to snap like you want!
Sylvia: Absolutely!
Anna: Plus if you wanted that approach to work you needed to ease in first, let us get to know you and trust you some more as an acquaintance. Jumping straight in expecting to be rubbing shoulders is utterly amateurish.
John: Of all people you have no right to criticize me. You betrayed your Supreme Sith Lord title so badly that you couldn't even sense my Sithness up to now.
Anna: Probably because you're not even a real Sith, sweetie. Lacking the training and decorum and so forth; you're just some Force-hopped entitled blowhard s*** for all I care.
Sam Jackson: Hot d***! Even I felt that one.
Lann: Spicy.
John: Pah! You don't think I can't take what I have been dishing out since my first word? Still, I make it a point to destroy any who insult me or my fleeting displays of goodwill. And since I can no longer take you out from the inside, then I'll just have to eviscerate the lot of you the old fashion way.
Jo: Then ya shoulda taken us out back in the air, because your a** is gonna get torn up like nobody's business.
Will: Consider this your perma-ban notice.
Anna: And a proper course in Sith savagery.
Cope: Something which I have dabbled in myself.
Anna: Thanks to me.
Cope: Love you too.
Sally: So stick em up, Lardy!
(Everyone breaks out their sabers/blades, except Lann)
Lann: Well, don't I feel awkward. But you bet I'll you make pay for what you did to Draco once I pry that sword of mine from your sweaty, flabby Force grip.
John: You can have it. I don't need this dinky blade. (Tosses Lann's sword, which clangs across the ground and stops at Lann's feet) Not when I have this sweet piece of hardware.
(He grabs his rifle and swings it around to his front. A push of some switches and a slide of a lever and the gun extends and reshapes into a vibroblade polearm, which John swings and twirls around with speed and grace that awes the group. He strikes it down at his side in a menacing preparatory posture)
John: So, anything to say before we get this slaughter started?
(Gray slowly raises his hand)
Gray: Can I make a song request?
John: By all means. Just think it and it will be so.
Gray: Okay.
(The opening piano from the S.S.H. remix of "Red Lucifer Rising" starts playing)
Squishy: Oooh, ominous.
John: Fitting. Anyways: You Jedi have existed for long enough. The new Sith dawn is upon us with me as its overseer and champion. My glorious and brutal rule shall be legendary. It is time for you all to take your places in the tome of obscurity, and become nothing more than distant memory.
Stan: Wow that was pretty good.
Cope: Don't compliment the antagonist, Stan.
Stan: Woop, sorry.
Sylvia: Get ready.
Jo: Always ready.
(The piano switches to synth rock, and after a pause the Jedi charge. John steps forward and knocks away the blows of Will and Cope before leaping back from a lunge from Sylvia. He charges forward with his own lunge and they lock blades as Sara and Jo run in. John kicks both of them back in sequence, then back flips around his weapon to punt a diving Squishy away before landing and shoving Sylvia away. Rick and Stan try to get at him but he spins his weapon around to ward them off, then leaps several yards to land before a startled Sam Jackson)
Sam Jackson: Hey man, I don't want any part in—
(Gets batted by the side of John's polearm. John goes on the offensive and starts slashing at Sally, but then notices Will has pulled out his Winchester rifle. He disengages and runs at him, shifting his head to dodge a bullet, then cartwheels over to avoid another shot before flipping around to slice Will's rifle in half. He tries to stab at Will but gets blocked by the butt of the destroyed gun, so John backflips to bring his blade down against a sneaking Rick. After being deflected back he whirls around to face Jo, where they smack weapons repeatedly as Cope tries running at his back. John notices this and pulls a trigger on his polearm, causing a bullet to shoot from the back of the weapon and graze Cope's side. In the confusion he twirls his polearm and bashes the underside of Jo's chin, but before he can capitalize on this he's rushed by Stan, Will, Rick and Squishy. He breaks into a whirlwind of slashes while also firing more rounds from the other end, making the Jedi deflect both bullets and blade slashes in dazzling display. Eventually John plants his polearm into the earth and fires off a gas canister that immediately smokes up the area and blinds everyone. Within the haze he knocks away the combatants, but a gust of wind clears everything and he turns to push against some wind bursts being fired by Lann's sword. One burst makes him stumble and Lann leaps at him with sword bearing down, but John quickly recovers and catches it with his own blade)
Lann: You're pretty light on your feet for a fat guy.
John: Same to you. Although, if I'm being honest, you hardly qualify for what is commonly considered as being fat.
Lann: It's called being husky. Plus, I know how to make it look sexy.
John: You know, we really shouldn't be fighting like this. We're both well-educated chaps who had to put up with the harsh standards of society. I'm sure we would've been the best of friends under fairer circumstances.
Lann: Maybe. But I make it a point not to associate with anyone who kills my boyhood crushes!
(John pushes Lann off, then hops back a few steps to avoid Lann's swift electric slash. Lann fires off some fireballs mixed with lightning bolts that John sidesteps and knocks away, and John spins around his polearm to return fire and disrupt his opponent. He then charges to catch Lann off-guard, when suddenly Gray launches up from behind Lann with arm blades pulled back ready to spike. John quickly turns his weapon to the ground and shoots a round at his feet, the concussive force throwing him back right as Gray plants his blades into the dirt. John manages to get his footing right when Gray is up in his face, throwing down his heavy fiery arm blades in the hope of cutting through the polearm or its owner. When neither relents, he rears back and lets out a great fire breath, except John jumps over it completely and delivers a spin kick to the side of his head)
John: Too predictable, Gray!
(John then gets hit by a bolt of Force Lightning, only to quickly raise up his hand to counter the electrical stream Anna is firing his way. The two remain locked in electric stalemate until Sara tries to get the jump on John. He sends out a burst of lightning to sever the connection and focuses on fighting Sara. She holds her own pretty well, enough so that Anna is able to get within striking distance of John's broad back without his notice. However he notices a split second before the hit and springs high and away, flipping around and taking aim with his polearm's barrel aimed right at them. He fires, but Gray slides in with his arms raised to catch the rifle shot with his bracers, the force of impact making him slide back and knock over both him and the ladies. John lands in a crouch and straightens up, but before he can gloat or mock he brings around his polearm to block several bullets heading his way. When they cease he looks to see Sam Jackson dressed up as Nick Fury with a pistol trained on him)
Sam Jackson: How bout trying me on for size, twinkle toes?
(John does so, rushing at the SHIELD director with gusto. Sam Jackson fires again but his gun gets knocked aside, and he quickly withdraws another gun and pops off a few rounds before that's also knocked away and he's left to defend himself with his bare hands. This he does expertly, blocking incoming blows and even throwing in some kicks to shake up his opponent. He eventually succeeds in grabbing the polearm and wrenching it from John's grasp, tossing it aside so that both have to rely on hand-to-hand combat. As they're trading blows)
John: Never thought an actor as old as you can stay in such phenomenal shape.
Sam Jackson: I only act where deception is called for. But yeah, I have to keep in shape. After all, I need to keep up with the likes of Captain America, Thor—(He slips around behind John back and wraps his arms around his waist) And even the mother-lovin' Hulk.
(Sam Jackson hefts and bends over backwards, slamming John into the ground with a devastating suplex. However John doesn't stay stunned, instead rolling and springing off from his shoulders, grabbing his weapon in midflight. He does two back flips and rolls before rising to a stop with his back against the rocks he had jumped down from earlier, with the Jedi closing in on him. He glances back, then in a flurry of blade swipes he cuts away several dozen chunks of rocks that he takes hold of in his Force grip, then chucks them all at our heroes, who either have to dodge, leap or slice through the boulder bombardment. John laughs and throws off his vest)
John: Is that all you got; I haven't even broken a sweat you inept nimrods! I can do this all day!
(Throws himself back into the fray. Outside the clearing, something lurks in the brush. Eventually it gets close enough to get a nice view of the melee, and we pull back to see this unseen observer is none other than Dennis Miller)
Dennis Miller: At last I find you, my elusive and quarrelsome quarry. And it appears you have gotten into quite the scuffle. Thirteen against one; a rather foolish gambit to make. Yet you appear to be holding your own pretty well. I'll just wait here for you to tire out, when the opportunity for recapture is at its ripest.
(Back to the fight, Sylvia is going at John while Squishy runs up her back and tries going at him from above again. Sylvia is batted off and John holds out his weapon to push away Squishy, who dives back down again and again and once more before he's knocked away. By then Sara has gotten close to him, but he delivers a kick to her torso that makes her stumble wildly and trip backward into the brush. As she falls her lightsaber goes wide and sears through some leaves, as well as the face of the hidden Miller)
Dennis Miller: AAAGGGGHHH! God F*** S*** GAAAAAHHGH!
(His cries of pain catches everyone's attention and immediately the fighting stops)
Gray: What was that?
Cope: The h***? Is that Dennis Miller?
John: D-D-What?!
Sam Jackson: Da f*** is he doing here? And who keeps putting s*** on me when I'm not looking? (Rips off eyepatch)
Sara: Oh my goodness I'm so sorry I didn't see you there!
Dennis Miller: (Gripping face) Gaaaaah, it burns like a f***er. Ooooh how it stings. Should've stayed further back, so stupid. Uhhhhhhnn, d***it.
Sara: Is, is there anything I can do to help? We should get that taken care of at least.
Dennis Miller: No no. Don't need medicine. I just… have to…. (Drops hand, revealing scorched half of face as he hungrily stares at John) FEEEEED!
(Suddenly he leaps out with arms outstretched like a puma, launching through the air on a beeline toward John)
John: What the F—!?
(Dennis pounces on John and begins tearing at his flesh with tooth and nail)
John: WAAAAGH OH MY GOD! GET HIM OFF HE'S EATING ME OH F*** MY FACE HRRRAUUUAAAAGHRRRAAAAAAGGGGG!
(John goes on making blood-curdling screams as Dennis devours him like a demon loosed from Hell. The group meanwhile stand and stare in shock, their complexions going pale at the horrific sight as well as the sickening sounds of teeth chewing warm, gushing flesh)
Anna:...Should I even ask—
Cope: (Shakes head stiffly) Noooooo.
(They watch the scene a bit longer)
Jo: We… should definitely go.
Rick: Definitely.
Gray: Good idea.
Squishy: No complaints here.
Sam Jackson: Yuh.
(As one they all slowly back away from the clearing, never tearing their focus from the carnage unfolding until they were deep in the woods and it was long out of sight and sound)