Post by Jandalf on Toast on Oct 31, 2004 21:10:17 GMT -5
THE STORY SO FAR:
Anyone who was watching could tell that Han Solo was troubled. Boromir could see it, plain as day. Could it be the Millennium Falcon was in danger? Danger, after all, is a very hazardous thing. Even if it wasn't, Han knew something was wrong, and Boromir knew that Han knew something was wrong, and Boromir told Jack Sparrow that he knew that Han knew something was wrong. Furthermore, Chewbacca knew something was wrong and in plain Wookiee he told them what it was.
"Great, Chewie, that's just great," Han responded, still confused as to whether he or Boromir really knew what was going on. Han knew what Boromir knew, and that was that a large flying cake was coming their way! "IT'S A MONSTER!!" Han and Boromir both screamed before getting caked in their faces.
Juicy wads of cake in the face was not what Han and Boromir considered pleasant. Kings of men had died for such evil cakes, however. Lots of people would have found the situation funny, but not Han and Boromir. Must it be that Han and Boromir face the terrifying wrath of the evil, EVIL cake that was hurling through outer space at that moment ready to destroy them? Not actually, no; they managed to duck just in time.
"Oops!" stated Han, staring at the cake covered blob in the middle of outer space that had been the Death Star. "Perhaps we should go tell Vader it wasn't us before he comes after us," Han said to Chewie.
"Question," said Boromir hesitantly. "What if Vader decides to choke us to death or worse?"
"Running away in a hasty manner would be what I would do in such a situation," replied Han.
"So," Boromir replied thoughtfully, "where would we run to, in that case?"
"To Disneyland," replied Han seriously, "that's where I'D want to go if I knew that I had a limited time left to live."
Unfortunately, they both realised that they did, in fact, have a limited time to live if they both stayed where they were. Vader, aboard his caked Death Star, was far from amused. "Who threw that cake!?!!!?"
X marked the spot where the cake was SUPPOSED to go, which happened to be on Boromir's shirt.
"Yeah, Disney Land. Rigggghhht." Boromir looked at his companion as though he'd totally lost his marbles.
"Zat," said Han, trying out a new accent, "is not where we should go."
((Insert ROTFLMAO on the part of Cenerue))
((Jandalf asks if Cenerue will do the next sentence))
"Absolutely," said Cenerue, "As soon as I finish smooching Boromir." Boromir smooched Cenerue back, then went to buy his ticket to Disney World, a frightening task indeed.
"Cenerue never smooches ME," Han muttered jealously.
" Don't worry, Han, I still love you," said Jandalf, and smooched him.
"Exactly!" said Cenerue, "But I love Han too!" She waited in the smooching line patiently.
From the ticket kiosk there came a yell. "GANDALF!" Han shouted, running out of the booth to observe the gray-cloaked wizard ride up from within the caked-super weapon.
"How did you get here?" Boromir asked when he saw Gandalf (the last time Boromir had seen him was when he'd fallen into shadow! and now here he stood in super white, cake covered robes....).
"I flew," said Gandalf simply, producing a large That weird kid with the glasses... what's his name? Peeves: Potty Wee Rotter.-esque broom.
Jandalf stamped her foot impatiently and said, "Will you guys hold on while I kiss this dashing smuggler?"
"KELEBRATION TIME!!!!" yelled Gandalf, and promptly lit up the disco ball. Laughing hysterically, Cenerue collasped on the floor dragging Boromir with her. Moving rapidly onto the dance floor, Jandalf dragged Han behind her for the first number.
"Now that's something I gotta see!" Cenerue yelled and scrambled up from the floor to watch.
"OW!" Han yelped, as Jandalf stepped on his toe whilst Han was attempting to dance with the music that was playing-- the Imperial March. Promenading closer to the center, Jandalf and Han finally got their dance moves figured out and stopped flattening each other's toes. Quickly, Cenerue and Boromir followed suit.
"Right there...and then there," said Han, directing Jandalf's feet.
Sithly music floated from Sgt. Vader's Lonely Helmets Club Band as the dance stretched long into the night. Thorongil suddenly felt the urge to dance and started a conga line. Understandably, everyone joined in except Lord Vader standing alone in the corner. Vader had had a bad experience with congo lines in the past, you see. When he was a child, something terrible had happened, that had scarred him for life. Xanatos had shoved him into a congo line and that is what had scarred him-- no matter that Xanatos was dead at that point. Year after year he had avoided the congo lines, but now they had caught up with him.
"Zooming along in my (whatever those ships are called) is much more fascinating, anyways," he muttered nervously, edging away from the line. "Although it IS rather depressing that everyone gets to dance except me; nobody likes me and everybody hates me and I never knew my father and nobody will pay for my counselling sessions," he bemoaned in an extremely long and whiney run-on sentance.
"But you didn't HAVE a father!" Jandalf exclaimed, who had danced into hearing distance (and tended to be sympathetic with Vader, owing to the fact he was her father and all).
"Can you please mind your own business!!" snarled Vader, drawing his lightsaber.
Dancing madly, Thor's congo line approached Lorien singing "Follow the Leader." Everyone in the congo line trampled over Vader in their mad dance to Lorien, ending the conflict between Vader and Jandalf before it began. Fortunately for everyone, at least.
Grateful for his thick armor, Vader was relieved that being trampled by the congo line had caused no lasting bodily harm to him-- though we didn't mention his lightsaber.
Han noticed Vader rising from being trampled, with his lightsaber still on. In any case, Han didn't take too kindly to this and made an excuse to use the washroom, while Jandalf was still stubbornly bent on getting her father dearest to see her point of view. Jandalf ran up to him, still talking loudly.
Knocking on the back of his helmet, she complained, "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, why aren't you listening to me?"