Written for the M*A*S*H quotation challenge on another board.
My quote: "My good man, I have better things to do than stand around listening to someone make no sense in two languages."
Palpatine had a headache.
Oh, really, just shut up will you? Palpatine rubbed his temple with a finger. How had he – THE Sith Lord – ended up in a tin can of a ship cooped up with a gaggle of Jedi masters who blathered with uncertainty and excitement and a bit of fear?
Oh, yes, he had invited them to join him. Not one of his brightest ideas, ever.
Talk, talk, and talk some more they did. Moan and groan as well. The Council Was Displeased.
One of their most experienced masters, one of the best swordsmen of the Order, had died at a Sith's blade. It was all Palpatine could do not to roll his eyes, but that just made his headache worse.
Dear Force, of course he had – Maul was too well trained to fall to a Jedi master.
He had, instead, fallen to a mere apprentice, an Obi-Wan Kenobi, hence one source of said headache. A mere Jedi brat – unbelievable. Said Jedi brat was worth watching.
Kenobi was either exceptionally well anchored to the light, or had strayed from its path.
Hah! he scoffed. Nothing so lofty or nothing so delightful, he was quite sure.
Undoubtedly said Kenobi was the luckiest or clumsiest Jedi on record – the once-nicknamed "Oafy-Wan" had probably tripped over his own clumsy feet to skewer poor Maul as the Jedi master had been skewered beforehand.
Poor, dear brat. Had to watch his poor, dear master, die before his eyes. Such a tragedy… Palpatine only wished he had been a spectator to the spectacle. He so enjoyed watching others die. So few others did and those who did were usually mere brutes, not true connoisseurs.
As a politician, he also lacked opportunity to directly participate in mayhem and murder, gleefully killing proposals in committee instead. He so missed the slaying and slaughter, the opportunity for hands-on dirty work.
Around him the members of the Council still prattled on. Really, he found it almost amusing. They were finally accepting that the Sith may have survived and dealt with it by spinning tales of nonsense.
We should have known, they moaned, even as they sat in the presence of the Sith master.
**
Palpatine had not been back to Naboo in months. The air was warm and redolent with the perfume of flowers; the atmosphere giddy with celebration.
It made the headache worse. He was certain he was allergic to Naboo. As Chancellor he could now keep himself too busy to leave Coruscant. Yes, between governing and making plans to decimate the Jedi Order, he could keep himself quite busy.
He smiled to conceal the grimace of pain from that darn headache. Now his sinuses hurt as well.
Damn allergies.
The guards were now in place. Honor guard, he reminded himself. A Sith needed no guards, only a retinue.
Show time!
Stride like a politician, not swagger like a Sith, he reminded himself as he stepped forth on the ramp and plastered a warm smile on his face.
Ah, there stood the Queen, the dear, sweet young thing who had played so beautifully into his hands. She had done her part; she had paved the way for his ascension to Chancellor.
Plucky girl, good looking, too, but a foolish one. If only she were just a bit older and a bit dumber…but a play toy she was not. Rather a shame, really. It did get a bit lonely at night, even for a Sith lord - especially for a Sith lord. Plotting destruction and evil dominion worked up rather an appetite that could only be partly assuaged by food and drink.
Cold showers took care of the rest.
The headache flared up again. His head was no happier than other parts at his lack of companionship. Really, it was ridiculous that a Sith lord couldn't even land a date.
He turned his attention to the cowed prisoners waiting to be handed over to Republic custody. Ignorant pawns; they had helped propel him into office. They had served a purpose, but - he shuddered as he eyed them more closely. Only that one purpose, that was clear; no more than that one.
They definitely weren't in the dating pool, either.
Now the Jedi brat was bowing before him; the boy, too. Males, both of them. Nope, he wasn't interested, no date material there– move on. Oh, wait – Maul's killer, the Hero of Naboo.
He was interested in them both, but not as dates.
He paused. "We are indebted to you, Obi-Wan Kenobi." Oh, I'm good, very good, indeed. Said with such sincerity, too, when he really wanted to say, hi, hello, hate your guts, think I'll stick a red lightsaber through them.
"And you, young Skywalker, I'll watch your career with interest." Especially if the boy proved successful landing a date. Kenobi was a Jedi. No lessons to be learned there. Eunuchs, all the Jedi were eunuchs. If they weren't, they wouldn't need to search the galaxy for new Jedi, why, they'd just create their own.
He sighed and took his place on the dais with the others. A loud blaring of horns sounded. Oh, now his head was really pounding.
He stood through the parade. He sat through the banquet. Through it all, he gleefully awaited the anticipated payoff: Qui-Gon Jinn's cremation. One Jedi down, only thousands to go.
And just when he thought the day was about to end, he was surrounded by Gungans.
"Weesa happy to be frieeeeeeeeeeeeends with the Naboo," a particularly chirpy and cheerful Gungan screeched. In his ear.
His headache roared back with a vengeance.
"Ignore Jar Jar, meesa Boss Nass and meesa pleased to meet the Chancellor of the Republic." The large Gungan boomed as he spoke, spittle flying as his jowls shook. "Bombad allies…friends."
"Meesa banished no more," the chirpy one reiterated. "Ah ha, meesa happy Gungan. Brought Gungan and Naboo together. Okie dokie? Unnerstand – yousa do Gungan dance of joy – deesa tis and then deesa that and deesa do the wappity do… and oh oh – meesa say you scram deesa pillow fallin – ayyyyyyy!"
Palpatine's patience finally snapped. Even a Sith lord was no match for a headache and an excited Gungan. "My good man, I have better things to do than stand around listening to someone make no sense in two languages."
"Yousa about to die, aye yi, if yousa don't move." The up flung hands and panicked eyes drew Palpatine's eyes upwards, far too late. Jar Jar's excited babbles and long screech had been just the right frequency to loosen the mortar holding up the pillars. Without mortar to hold them up, the pillars were falling down.
Upon the Chancellor, directly below. Whose headache made him slow, made him trip over the lanky Gungan's long legs.
Well, I'll be…was his last thought as he stared at the large piece hurtling at him. Date of construction: 15165. I finally got a date.
'Uh oh." Jar Jar gurgled as they dug the Chancellor out from the rubble, dead, with a smile on his face.
Palpatine no longer had a headache.