A/N: Yes. It's been a while. Believe it or not, I realize this. And I'm not gonna lie and say I've been busy. Unmotivated, absolutely. Uninspired, you can bet on it! But busy, absolutely not. And I still have no ideas. This chapter is being written entirely out of guilt. And I want you all to know that.

Disclaimer: I think if I owned Star Wars, I would care more about this story, and therefore update it more often. But I do love BORIS, who is my character, and Small Random Padawan. They are both amazingly awesome and should take over the world. Hmmm... Anyway, I don't own Star Wars, Will Smith, Jell-O, Tarzan, or Wicked.

Author's Reply to Review(ers):

Bitten by a cow: Thank you for your continued loyalty to this story. ;) Tyrone II was invented by my mind at some ridiculously ungodly hour, though I now realize it would've been way way way simpler to just use Will Smith himself.

And while I admit that I understood absolutely none of the second part of your review, I loved it because it was random and it made me laugh even if I don't know why. So yes.

Vincere Aut Mori: Glad you're enjoying it.

Chapter 17

It Doesn't Make Sense, Does It?

Will Smith was angry.

Very angry.

Boris was afraid.

Seemingly afraid.

Obi-Wan was distracted.

As always...

"Will you just get on with it?" Qui-Gon yelled, glaring at the ceiling.

Qui-Gon was just a little bit on the impatient side.

"Boris... if that's your real name..." Will Smith(the real one, whose plane had recently landed) got closer to the Sturdy Glass Bucket.

"Why are those words capitalized? And what the heck is a Glass Bucket anyway?" Will Smith asked.

The world may never know.

"Hey, where's Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked randomly, having just realized that Yoda was not there.

Adi Gallia told him to shut up.

"Boris... I think you have something that belongs to us."

"I don't! I swear. I took nothing when I left that wretched organization!"

"I don't believe you."

"Well, you should."

"Well, I don't."

"Well, you should."

"I already said, I don't."

"Why not? Can't we just be friends? CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG??" Boris wailed dramatically.

"We used to be friends, Boris. Not anymore."

"I don't have anything, honest."

"Yeah, and I'm the Pope."

While this exchange went on, Obi-Wan continued to eat Jell-O and mourn the loss of his Key of Happiness, trying to think of a way to get it back. His plan thus far involved seven green shirts and a mule. And possibly a purple mailbox...

Small Random Padawan was sleeping soundly in the corner, dreaming of dancing bananas and a llama named Bruce.

Qui-Gon was killing time by singing songs from Tarzan in his head. Or so he thought...

"You'll be in my heart, no matter what they SAAAAY, you'll be here in my heart, alwaaaays." Qui-Gon "sang".

Shmi glared at him and plugged her ears. Unfortunately, Qui-Gon's terrible singing caused Small Random Padawan to wake up, and since the dream he had been having about dancing bananas and a llama named Bruce had actually been an incredibly happy one, he began wailing.

"I knew it!" Will Smith said. Boris had just admitted to taking something.

"It's not what you think!" Boris said, casting nervous glances at the group of Jedi, none of whom were paying attention anyway. Adi Gallia was trying to get Small Random Padawan to stop crying, and Shmi was trying to get Qui-Gon to stop singing. Unfortunately, her efforts only made Qui-Gon sing louder, and Boris started fearing for the survival of his Sturdy Glass Bucket.

"I took... just... the... playlist..." Boris said, cowering in his mini-bagel floatie.

"You mean... THE playlist?" Will Smith asked.

"Yeah."

"Crap."

"I know."

Motioning to Nameless Man In Black, Will Smith headed for the door.

"Sorry!"

"Not your fault! Catch you later!"

As soon as he was gone, Boris began to chuckle.

"THE playlist, what a joke! That's just the Top Secret Man's files encoded in song. He'll never find out what I really have..."

In truth, Boris had stolen copies of all the files of the members and those affiliated(even without their knowledge) with The X300 Secret Society, TX3SS for short. It had started with Qui-Gon's file, since he needed to track him down, and escalated from there.

"Shut up, you!" Boris yelled at the ceiling.

No can do, my little fishy friend.

"You stole my file!" Qui-Gon shrieked, finally stopping his horrible rendition of 'You'll Be In My Heart.' Leave it to Phil Collins, Qui-Gon. Please.

He pointed an accusing finger at Boris, even though he had no idea what file they were referring to.

He and Boris began shouting insults at each other, none of which made sense.

"You're just a butterfly-eyed tree sniffer!"

"Well YOU'RE a cowardly mailbox pusher!"

And so on.

Meanwhile...

"I JUST REALIZED WHO HE REMINDS ME OF!" Pippin shouted triumphically, pointing at Yoda.

"Who?" Merry asked. Yoda didn't remind him of anyone.

"Elphaba!"

"Who?!"

"Elphaba! You know, the green girl in Wicked!" Pippin gasped. "Don't TELL me you've never seen it?"

"Umm, no..."

Ignoring the fact that Broadway musicals are not readily available in Middle-earth, the Author continues...

"It's a musical! It rocks! It's amazing! You should borrow my copy of the soundtrack. Idina is amazing!" Pippin clapped his hands and danced around.

"So how does Yoda relate to this green girl?"

"Um, hello? He's GREEN? Enough said." Pippin acted as if this was the simplest thing in the world.

Merry shook his head, hoping his friend hadn't lost is completely.

Yoda, too, shook his head and started hobbling away.

Then, (since a cliffhanger is sorely needed to end this chapter, or so the Author thinks...) something appeared in the distance...

What has appeared in the distance? What is the point of this story? Does such a thing exist? Find out in the next installment of this story!