A/N: So, this parody has apparently become a "whenever the hell I feel like working on it, it gets worked on" story. That's mostly because I have to be in a certain mood to write something so over the top and it seems as if I haven't been in that mood for over 18 months. Geez. Sorry about that if anyone was holding out any hopes for this (which, personally, I highly doubt). Still, here it is...

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Chapter 4: Cop Out

Thane Sunrider, yadda yadda yadda, opened his eyes.

He was back in the apartment he and Garth were sharing.

And his head hurt as all get out.

Sitting up, he pressed his lips together and looked around, confused. He had no recollection as to how he got back here. Or why in the hell there was a walking carpet, a girl with head tails, and a Brazilian swim suit model looking at him. The last thing he remembered doing was going to see a man about a suicide mission.

"Good morning, Sunshine," the model said. She had her arms crossed over an ample chest and was giving him a look that could burn through unpleasant places. That didn't faze Thane in any way shape or form, however. He just smiled at her.

"It's Sunrider, lovely, but if you tell me your name, I could be riding you."

She frowned. "That was unnecessarily crude. There are children in the room."

"I'm not a child," the lumpy-headed girl said. The carpet growled his agreement.

Thane looked at her. "Can you buy alcohol?"

"I can in Finland," she replied.

"That doesn't count."

The girl frowned. Thane ignored her and turned back to the model.

"Where's Garth?"

"The insufferable singer?"

"Yeah."

"Not here," the model said.

"Yes, I can see that. You must be Brazilla. You're attitude precedes you." Thane smiled then. "As do those. Want to go out for a drink?"

She looked disgusted and, honestly, Thane couldn't blame her. He often disgusted himself. It didn't stop him by any means, but he would sometimes wise up about the words that were coming out of his mouth and pause before going on. And the fact that women still, apparently, fell under his charm made it even less likely that he was going to stop any time soon. You don't earn a title like Conqueror of Virginity by sitting on your ass. Or maybe you do. I don't know. Either way, it was what people called him even if he couldn't actually recall a single tryst. Everything past a couple of days ago was still fuzzy.

Brazilla regarded him. "I wouldn't even drink water with you."

Thane shrugged. "Okay. So, how'd we get back here? And why has the party multiplied?"

"Little thanks to you, that's for sure," the model said. "Well, I guess you did steal the accelerator for the Beckers and managed to win the race that should have killed you, as well as face off against some mutant clown-rats, and free Barnone from slavers, and get me out of my cage, but other than that, not much. After the win, you proceeded to get completely sloshed and could barely walk, let alone fight. You somehow managed to kill all of the Vulcuns who were holding me captive, but Garth and Barnone had to drag you back up here after that."

Thane looked at her. "Why don't I remember any of that?"

"Because you blacked out? I thought your type were supposed to be good at holding your alcohol. You are called Alcohol Consumer of Lore, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but the sheer volume of alcohol I drank would have killed three guys twice my size. I remember that much."

Brazilla looked doubtful. It was a look Thane had better get used to quickly because it was going to become a permanent fixture on her face over the following weeks.

But despite her perfectly good reason for Thane's memory lapse, Brazilla was wrong. The truth of the matter was that Thane's adventures through the Undercity were rather boring. His battles with the mutant clown-rats were nothing compared to what would come and his conversations with the non-mutated clowns were quite mundane, if not a little frightening for a man who was scared of clowns. Even freeing Barnone from the slavers and assisting Gizmo, the underage head-tail girl, were nothing particularly consequential except for the fact that they had joined his little party. Whoop-dee-do.

The race, on the other hand, had been spectacular. Thane was a natural born pilot and had literally left the competition in the dust. He did so well, in fact, that he considered giving up smuggling and lady killing to join the world of underground swoop racing. The consideration didn't last long, however, before he got drunk, got attacked, and got the hell out of there.

It wasn't anything Thane really needed to remember experiencing so it was hardly anything that needed a narration all of its own.

"That's where the name comes from, lovely. I can drink enough to kill an entire village. And at a certain point, I even pass the point of getting a hangover. It's a miracle." He took in a deep breath. "Damn, do I feel good, except for the headache. So, what's on the agenda for today?"

"As soon as Garth gets back we'll be looking for a ship to get off this rock. I need to go back to Dannon asap to speak with the Jedi Council about…things you don't need to know about."

"Waidda' be cryptic," Thane said with a frown. "But where are we going to find a ship."

Brazilla gave him a look that said, you can't be serious, you pea-brained imbecile. We're practically on top of a frickin' spaceport; where do you think we'll find a ship? I thought you were a smuggler.

"I am a smuggler, but I specialize in trafficking arms and teaching droids rude gestures, not grand theft spaceship."

"Galactic!" Gizmo said. "What the biggest gun you've smuggled."

"I said arms trafficking, kid, not gun trafficking. There's been a surprisingly high demand for prosthetics since the Jedi Civil War. Their stocks have gone through the intergalactic roof."

"Well, that's not exciting."

Thane laughed. "You'd be surprised."

Gizmo frowned.

It was during that conveniently placed break in the conversation when Garth returned. He had a shopping bag with him.

"You're awake. I thought we might have actually lost you this time."

Thane rolled his eyes. "What'd you buy me?"

"Why would I buy something for you?"

"Because I was the one who was dying."

Garth's voice was hushed, "I knew it."

"Can it," Thane said. "Seriously, what's in the bag?"

Garth looked more tragic than usual and Thane got worried, which was not a familiar feeling. He never got worried because there was never anything to worry about. Everything always turned out right in the end and that's how he had always lived his life; the small part of it he could remember, that is.

Now he just had to figure out where his Jedi tattoo came from… But that was neither here nor there so Thane put it out of his mind for the moment.

"Garth. What's in the bag. Garth. Garth. Gaarrrth…"

Brazilla gave him the murderous look again and Thane smiled dumbly at her.

"Food, if you must know—"

"For me?"

"—and the keys to a ship."

"Sweet! Garth, you are a regular crook, you are. Hand 'em over."

Brazilla on the other hand, did not look so pleased. It was obvious from the top of her perfect head to the tips of her manicured toes. Tossing her blonde-streaked-brown hair that was thick, heavy, and held an enviable natural wave, the female Jedi snorted.

"That was entirely too easy."

Garth shrugged. "There was a sign in the supermarket advertising a ship for sale. Since we had no other way off Ferris, I decided to give the guy a call. It was a steal."

Thane looked worried again. He didn't like these circumstances.

"Did you see it?"

"No, but he told me where it was parked."

Thane looked heavenward.

"Didn't they teach you in soldierin' school to never buy a ship without fully inspecting it? I mean, really, Garth."

The other man hardly even blinked, which was weird. Thane would have expected him to go off into song about how their ship was now going to blow up and kill them all and that Ferris would enjoy a fireworks display made up of human remains falling through the atmosphere and burning up before becoming ash that would drop upon the city like snow. Peopley snow.

Thane scowled. Now he was doing it.

"Well excuse me for doing something to get us off this planet," Garth said, the sing-songiness in his voice still absent. "Maybe I should just go tell him that I've changed my mind and would like to stick around for a little bit longer, but thank you for the ship anyway."

The two men stared at each other until Brazilla stomped her foot. Thane looked at it, not sure he had ever seen someone do that outside of a movie.

"We should at least go look at it to see if it is in any condition to get us off this planet rather than just fighting over how it was purchased. I have a feeling we will want to break atmo soon; something dark is descending."

They all looked at her.

"Gee, thanks for sobering the mood."

"I'm a Jedi. It's what we do."

Thane arched one eyebrow. "I'm so glad I'm not one of you."