Monday, April 24, 2006

Padmé: Let's Party

Let's party!

K, so I'm here and ready to party!

I'm still totally bummin' that I didn't win cuz being a Senator kinda sucks lately and I could have retired with that million credits. But being on the show was, like, way fun. I guess I'll share some of my favorite memories before I get too drunk to remember.

My favorite challenge was the poetry contest and I really loved the lemon dress I conceptualized.

My least favorite challenge was that pirate attack thing. That was just way too weird. Like, what do I know about pirates?

Highlights include JJ's posts on the hidden item and the pirate adventure, Fluke's hidden item post... I think I've been missing I-SUC, too. Then there was that droid-building contest judged by, um Darth Vader. That was really awesome and I totally want to know if Typho gets to keep that DEEJAY droid. I enjoyed getting to know JJ, Fluke and Jon better - you guys know how to party. It was even kinda OK getting to know Jabafatboy - thanks for the info on Aurra Sing, man! And it's cool that Typho and Ranae are, like, hitting it off again.

K, well, I need to go get more tequila. Seems like my bottles are all empty...

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Enjoyed it here !!

Man It sure is nice ta be back on this planet with all you crazy folks again.

I was hopin that I would have some company while I was up here, and then I find out that its gonna be a party.

JJ is bringin Brownies, and Mos Eisley.

Flooke has got a band of rockin female T'wileks, that do a great rendition of some old earth tunes.

Everybodys been arrivin a little bit at a time.

I hope Oneida makes it back, shes nuts but shes fun.

And Padme , well I think even ole Green feet hisself enjoyed watchin her !

Man she was a hoot .

Well , anyway it is great ta be here......... Is that JJ I see commin up here ?

It is , Hot Diggity

HEY JJ , Bring the beer !!! Come on in man , This is Great !

Aw man , turn the knob , set the heat !! It dont get no better than this !

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

J.J. : Good Times...and Outtakes.

Well…a party, eh?

Who am I to turn down that? Especially from such an old dear friend like Fluke. Yup. An old dear…rich….very rich friend like Fluke.

It was good to see everyone again. But this time, I think I’ll not drink so much. The last after reality show rap-up party I went to, I ended up married the next morning.

Looking back, the ol Gungan did a good job. The challenges were inventive and I loved having the guest judges near the end. I only wish some of the others didn’t get voted off so early. Mostly people that our society deem as “villains” too. What’s up with that? So some of them are bounty hunters, Separatist generals and….um…well, Hutts. That doesn’t mean ya got ta vote em off the show. Next time you should vote people off solely due to their performance in a given challenge. But hey, that’s just me. (Although it was kinda nice having that huge holo room all to my self…)

A lot of the challenges I really enjoyed too. Something about Padmé getting all feisty when decorating her room and getting in a cat fight had me rolling on the floor laughing.

The poetry night was pretty cool too. All in all, it was a fun few months. These kinda things really help with the creativity.

My personal favorite was the pirate challenge. Everyone’s posts on that were fantastic. Oh…the puns…the glorious puns…

Speaking of which, my own little adventure with them was not without a few…um…mishaps. So here are a couple of outtakes from my little pirate adventure.

First off, here I am with my first attempt trying to swing down on a rope to confront the evil pirates. It took me five tries to get it right….

Also, there was this….unfortunate incident where I got a little…oh…overzealous in my battle scenes.

I kinda blacked out there. I hope the gran was okay.

All in all, good times were had. And I’d do it all again in a shot. Come to think of it, I’d do it all again with some shots.

An Apology

When I was added on as judge, my first post was not vital to the scheme of things on the site and simply a tie in to events in my own blog. This was selfish, but more so, in that I used the characters that remained in the game without permission. I did so with the assumption that I knew their characters enough to use them. I received a comment after the post by Typho about how out of character I had written him.
I apologise for the wrongful usage of these characters. I meant no malice in the utilisation, but my actions have improperly portrayed several well-defined characters.
If there is any action I can do to rectify my unauthorised plagiarism theft, please let me know.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Typho: Looking Back

[The baby is sleeping!]

I never knew what to expect from the challenges, and that made Big Brother: Naboo a great game. I especially liked the switch late in the game to the guest judges. I felt that made things less random and it encouraged everyone to post more creatively.

Ironically, my favorite challenge wasn't one of the ones I won -- it was the poetry contest. My least favorite posts were the pirate attack and the sculpture contest (though I liked the image I made for the latter).

My favorite post by another player was Fluke's hidden object post. :D

The only thing I didn't like about this game was when people started posting dialogue for other characters and/or assigning out of character actions for them without asking first. A judge did this as well. Was it so hard to just ask?

I loved the game, however. I'd certainly play another one. Maybe in a few months when things settle down for me.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Jon: Smokin'

(Jon does not endorse smoking)

I'm glad to be back here at Big Brother: Naboo, the title of this entry refers to my awesome smoking jacket, of course. Let me just pour myself a fresh beertini and give you my take on the action.

I had a lot of fun doing this and I thought that my character really got a chance to shine, striving so hard to win these challenges and failing magnificently. The lemon tree comes immediately to mind, but then so does the room decorations and the robot-building. I got to do some things that I never would have done in my own blog.

One of the things that I worried about during the challenges was other people coming up with the same ideas that I had, like using all the lame pirate puns. So when the challenges were posted, I tried to write something as quickly as I could, as soon as inspiration struck me. This then caused me to worry that the readers would think "Oh boy, here comes Jon again, he's gotta post first." I even wrote a few entries and sat on them for a couple days just so I wouldn't be the first to post. Call me weird, I guess.

And here's something for the outtakes reel: when the art challenge was posted, I read it quickly and then read it again at home, entirely missing the point that we were supposed to create sculptures. It wasn't until Fluke and Oneida both pointed it out to me that I quickly wrote the post with the kiln that went up to 11. Despite that, or maybe because of it, I thought that series went very well and seeing the American Gothic with Star Wars characters still makes me smile bemusedly.

My only (and so very mild) disappointment was that I never received immunity and I really thought that I was going to get it for the droid-building challenge. After I made the protocol droid, I then thought that I should have made one that did bad stand-up comedy, but oh well. Getting Darth Vader to judge was inspired, of course, and his post was very funny as well.

My only other concern is that some of the newer characters like Jango got booted pretty quickly and we didn't get much opportunity to interact with them. I kind of wish they could have stuck around a little longer, except Jaba (insert rimshot). So don't take it personally, and I hope you all want to come back for the next one, whatever that could be (hint hint).

So that's about it, and it looks like my glass is empty. Oh beertender, one more please!

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Grievous: It's good to be back

Hey everybody, first I'd like to say that any injuries or damages pertained through my use of a lightsaber or poor craftsmanship are not my fault and if you come after me with the correct legal proceedings I’ll change my name, rinse and repeat if necessary.

Now that I’ve that out of the way I can say that the challenge I enjoyed doing the most was the redecorating of the room I shared with Jaba and Yoda, the most insufferable beings in the galaxy! The concept of the posts was good, but I fear I dominated out team a bit too much.

My favourite post from the entire challenge would definitely be JJ’s pirate post. Brilliant images and awesome… well just plain awesome!

Collaborating for the posts was fun, from the eating mishap (how was I supposed to eat decent food, let alone inedible… stuff…) and the room redecoration to the feud between Oneida and Grievous. Congratulations go to Jar Jar for such a good set of challenges.

Was there anything to dislike except writing a poem, when you have no poetic genius? No, well done all who participated, you all did exceptionally well, and well done Fluke you deserved the win!

Hey Fluke, I’ll be taking those bubble wrap windows when I leave, I have some younglings back at the Dojo who want to use it for some kind of project.

Monday, April 10, 2006

And oursa winner issen...

Whosa hassen der envelope? Ah, heresa itsa issen. After nearly three months of challenges, wesa have a final victor; a champion of Big Brother: Naboo. Okeyday, heresa wesa go. Drumroll, pleeze.

*Drumroll noises in the background*

And der winner issen... *Jar Jar opens the envelope*

Fluke Starbucker!

Congratulations, Fluke! Yousa winnen oursa 1,000,000 credit prize, and der Big Brother house itsaself, to do with as yousa willen.
Mesa would liken to tanken all of oursa viewers for theirsa kind patronage, and yoursa patience in putten up with mesa Gungan accent. Jar Jar Binks, signen out.

Special Thanks
Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, Count Dooku, Qui-Gon "Quiggy" Jinn, and Darth Vader.

Very Special Thanks
George Lucas

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Der Final Reckonen

Congratulations, Fluke Starbucker and Captain Typho! Yousa hassen maken itsa to der last voten offen, and completen yoursa respective challenges. Yousa noah out of der woodses yet, though. Now, oursa audience gonna voten one last time. Whosa gonna be der winner of Big Brother: Naboo; Fluke or Typho?

Tinken carefully; der fate of oursa 1,000,000 credits prize money - and of der Big Brother House itsaself - rest in yoursa hands. E-mail yoursa votes to mesa at (everyonesa, noah jussen contestants).

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Starbucker: camera ham.

Oh, man! This is cool... I've been watching all of my favorite movies over and over again to pass the time in this here house between challenges, so this should be easy! Uh... but which scene?... and from which movie? Oh, durn!

Ok, lemme get into character here...

Picture me in...

A large, domed room. Ten evenly-spaced skylights send their shafts of sunlight down to a unique tiled floor: white and black tiles laid out in a lovely, intricate pattern. Fluke stands at the door and look across the wide room at the altar. There, in the supreme hallowed spot way across the way, is a tiny jeweled figurine, the real objective. Two torches, many years old, are in holders by the door. He takes one down and pretends to light it. He gives his regular torch to his imaginary assistant.

He kneels and uses the unlit end of the torch to reach out and tap a white tile. It is solid. He taps a black tile. He sharply looks toward the wall, and then at the torch and a dart appears! He looks to the wall nearby: there is a recessed hole there.

Fluke hollers,
"Time out!" then jumps up and pretends to be the assistant: "From that hole!"

Then Fluke hollers "Time Out!" then runs back and looks, nods, stands and looks around the sanctuary. The entire room is honey-comed with the same kind of hole.

Fluke (looking and pointing in the direction of where his assistant would be)
: "You wait here."

"Time Out!"

Fluke (back in the assistant's position) "If you insist, senor."

"Time Out!"

Torch in hand, Fluke begins his careful walk across the sanctuary. Stepping only on the white tiles, he almost appears to be doing a martial arts kata. Before each big move he waves the torch in front of him head to toe, looking at the flame. Halfway out, he sees something on the floor and kneels to look at it. A dead bird lies on one of the white tiles. Its body is riddled with little deadly darts. This has great significance and he stands with even greater caution. He waves the torch ahead of him.

"Time Out!"

Fluke then runs back to where the assistant would be standing and watching, wide-eyed and mystified, but he doesn't say a thing.

"Time Out!"

He then gets back in the other position, stepping cautiously until he reaches the altar. The tiny idol looks both fierce and beautiful. It rests on a pedestal of polished stone. Fluke looks the whole set-up over very carefully. From his jacket he takes a small, canvas drawstring bad. He begins filling it with dirt from around the case of the altar. When he has created a weight that he thinks approximates the weight of the idol, he bounces it a couple times in his palm concentrating. It's clear he wants to replace the idol with the bag as smoothly as possible. His hand seems ready to do that once, when he stops, takes a breath and loosens his shoulder muscles. Now he sets himself again. And makes the switch! The idol is now in his hand, the bag on the pedestal. For a long moment it sits there, then the polished stone beneath the bag drops five inches. This sets off an AURAL CHAIN REACTION of steadily increasing volume as some huge mysterious mechanism rumbles into action deep in the temple.

Fluke spins and starts his kata back across the sanctuary at four times the speed.

The sanctuary has begun to rumble and shake in response to the mysterious mechanism. Just as Fluke goes out the door, a rock shakes loose from the wall and rolls onto the tiles floor. Immediately, a noisy torrent of poison darts fills the room.

Fluke rushes over several pieces of furniture to come to the foyer, where he stops on the edge of the carpet.

"Time Out!"

as assistant, now on other side of foyer tile:"No time to argue. Throw me the idol, I throw you the whip."

"Time Out!" and back across the foyer.

Fluke hesitates, eyeing the rumbling walls.

"Time Out!"

as assistant:"You have no choice! Hurry!"

"Time Out!" then back to where he was

Fluke concurs with that assessment. He tosses the idol across the imaginary pit, and dives onto the tile of the foyer...He then makes an awful shrill sound outta the side of his mouth... inconspicuous-like... as if no-one else in the house would realize it's coming from him...

"Time Out!" he hollers as he gets back onto the edge of the carpet...

"Do you know what that sound is, Highness? Those are the Shrieking Eels -- if you doubt me, just wait. They always grow louder when they're about to feed on human flesh!"

"Time Out!" Fluke lays back down on the tile, and flails a if treading water, still not far from the carpet. The shrieking sounds are getting louder and more terrifying. Fluke pretends to stay silent, while actually doing the shreiking.

"Time Out!" Fluke gets to the carpet...

"If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you. I doubt you will get such an offer from the Eels." He says with a squinted eye and lispy speech.

Fluke bends forward, looking directly at the camera, then pulls his hair to the side to show something near the crown.

"Look at this: ...St. Paddy's Day in Knocko Nolans, in Boston, where some sunovabitch winged me upside the head with a spittoon."

He then presents his own formidable forearm.

"Wire burn. Trying to stop a back-stay from taking my head off."

He then takes a long pull from a bottle

"Face and head scars come from amateur amusements in the bar room. This love line here... (he bends an ear forward) ...that's from some crazy Frenchie come after me with a knife. I caught him with a good right hand right in the snot locker and laid him amongst the sweetpeas."

He starts rolling up his own dirty pants leg.

"Slammed with a thresher's tail. Look just like somebody caressed me with a nutmeg grater....Wait a minute, young fella. Look. Just look. Don't touch...."

He starts lowering his pants to reveal a place on one hip where the tissue is scarred and irregular.

"...Mako. Fell out of the tail rope and onto the deck. You don't get bitten by one of those bastards but twice -- your first and your last.

"Time Out!" Fluke runs around to a different position, then points to where he just had been, and says, "What's that there?"

"Time Out!" Fluke gets back where he was, and explains, "Tattoo. Had it taken off.'U.S.S Indianapolis.' 1944."

"Time Out!" Fluke goes across the room and shouts incredulously, "You were on the Indianapolis? In '45? Je-bus!!...."

"Time Out!" he then gets back where he was, "Yeah. The U.S.S. Indianapolis. June 29th, 1945, three and a half minutes past midnight, two torpedoes from a Japanese submarine slammed into our side. Two or three. We was still under sealed orders after deliverin' the bomb...the Hiroshima bomb...we was goin' back across the Pacific from Tinian to Leyte. Damn near eleven hundred men went over the side. The life boats was lashed down so tight to make the bomb run we couldn't cut a single one adrift. Not one. And there was no rafts.


That vessel sank in twelve minutes. Yes, that's all she took.

We didn't see the first shark 'til we'd been in the water about an hour. A thirteen-footer near enough. A blue. You measure that by judgin' the dorsal to the tail. Twe didn't know...of course the Captain knew...I guess some officers knew ...was the bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signals was sent. What the men didn't know was that they wouldn't even list us as over-due for a week. Well, I didn't know that -- I wasn't an officer -- just as well perhaps.

So some of us were dead already -- in the water -- just hangin' limp in our lifejackets. And several already bleedin'. And the three hundred or so laying on the bottom of the ocean.

As the light went, the sharks came crusin'. We formed tight groups -- somewhat like squares in an old battle -- You know what I mean -- so that when one come close, the man nearest would yell and shout and pound the water and sometimes it worked and the fish turned away, but other times that shark would seem to look right at a man -- right into his eyes -- and in spite of all shoutin' and poundin' you'd hear that terrible high screamin' and the ocean would go red, then churn up as they ripped him. Then we'd reform our little squares. By the first dawn the sharks had taken more than a hundred. Hard for me to count but more than a hundred. I don't know how many sharks. Maybe a thousand. I do know they averaged six men an hour.

All kinds -- blues, makos, tigers. All kinds.

In the middle of the second day, some of us started to go crazy from the thirst. One fella cried out he saw a river, another claimed he saw a waterfall, some started to drink the ocean and choked on it, and some left our little groups -- our little squares -- and swam off alone lookin' for islands and the sharks always took them right away. It was mainly the young fellas that did that -- the older ones stayed where they was.

That second day -- my life jacket rubbed me raw and that was more blood in the water. Oh my. On Thursday morning I bumped up against a friend of mine -- Herbie Robinson from Cleveland -- a bosun's mate -- it seemed he was asleep but when I reached over to waken him, he bobbed in the water and I saw his body upend because he'd been bitten in half beneath the waist.

Well Chief, so it went on -- bombers high overhead but nobody noticin' us. Yes -- suicides, sharks, and all this goin' crazy and dyin' of thirst.

Noon the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura swung around and came in low. Yes. He did that. Yes, that pilot saw us.

And early evenin', a big fat PBY come down out of the sky and began the pickup. That was when I was most frightened of all -- while I was waitin' for my turn. Just two and a half hours short of five days and five nights when they got to me and took me up.

Eleven hundred of us went into that ocean -- three hundred and sixteen got out. Yeah. Nineteen hundred and forty five. June the 29th."

(long pause)

In deep voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

High-pitched voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

Deep voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

High-pitched voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

Deep voice: "The red zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the white zone."

High-pitched voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading and there is no stopping in the red zone."

Deep voice: "The red zone has always been for loading and unloading there is never stopping in a white zone."

High-pitched voice: "Don't tell me which zone is for stopping and which zone is for loading."

Deep voice: "Listen Betty, don't start up with your white zone crap again!"

Fluke then quickly dons a black cloak, and begins cackling, and then speaks in a menacing voice:

"Good. Use your aggressive feelings, boy! Let the hate flow through you."

Fluke primly sits in a chair.

"Good! Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny and take your father's place at my side!"

Fluke stands, and slowly begins taking steps toward a lampstand.

"If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed."

Fluke begins making gestures toward the lampshade, as if he's milking a goat, or something.

"Young fool...only now, at the end, do you understand."

Fluke then nudges the lampshade over, then continues the goat milking gestures as it lay, but now he has straightened his fingers a bit.

"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side. You have paid the price for your lack of vision."

Fluke then speaks in high-pitched, girly voice out of the side of his mouth, on behalf of the lampshade, supposedly..."Father, pleeeeease. Help me."

He then goes back to the menacing voice:

"Now, young will. die."

He then begins writhing, and speaking in another sinister, high-pitched voice:

"Ohhh -- you cursed brat! Look what you've done! I'm melting! Melting! Oh -- what a world -- what a world! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness!? Ohhh! Look out! Look out! I'm going. Ohhhh! Ohhhhhh...."

He then hops to his feet, and...

Image hosting by TinyPic


Fluke bows

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Typho: Past, Present and Future

I nod as Fluke issues his challenge. I'd been voted out before this task was given on Survivor, but I'd seen what the others went through. It wasn't going to be pretty.

I open the back door and see the first ring shimmering in the backyard. I take a deep breath and step through the ring...

The Past

"Lt. Typho, please take a seat," says the doctor.

I am in a nicely furnished medical office with a large window. Outside the sun is setting.

Oh, no. Not this. I remember this.

I take a seat opposite the doctor. He looks way too young to be a psychiatrist.

"So, how's it going?" the doctor asks.

"Pretty good," I reply.

"I see you're still wearing an eye patch," the doctor remarks.

"It's better than having my eye socket exposed," I reply.

"Have you thought about getting a cybernetic implant?"

I look at the doctor askance. "How am I supposed to afford that? Besides, I don't want to be part droid. I don't want anyone putting wires into my brain."

The doctor nods. I can tell he's made a mental note about something I just said.

"But you don't have to wear an eye patch. You could just use a false eye. Do you feel a need to call attention to your injury?"

I shake my head. "No, that's not why I wear it. I wear it as a reminder. A reminder to... to be vigilant."

"A reminder to be vigilant, or a reminder of those creatures that you said abducted you? What were they called?"

I respond angrily. "I was having a post traumatic stress episode when I said that!"

"So you no longer believe that these creatures gave you that patch?"

"No, of course not. That would be crazy."

"I don't use words like 'crazy,' lieutenant," says the psychiatrist in a soothing manner that comes off as condescending. "People come to me for guidance and I help them through their troubles. So, you no longer believe in these creatures?"

"That's right," I reply.

Here it comes...

"Tell me what they're called again?" he asks.

"Shauputs," I mumble.

"What was that?"

"Shauputs," I say again. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead.

"You look stressed, lieutenant. If you don't believe in them, nothing's going to happen if you say the word three times, right?"


"So say it."

"SHAUPUTS." I say tightly.

"See, that wasn't so bad," he says with a grin.

"Riiiight," I say. In the window behind him I can see thousands of pairs of luminescent eyes.

The psychiatrist scribbles something on a pad and hands it to me.

"Give that to you CO. You're fit to go back on duty. Best of luck to you, lieutenant."

I collect the paper and stand up quickly.

"Best of luck to you, sir," I reply. There are paws and noses pressed up to the glass behind him now.

I shut the door of his office behind me.

The elevator door is closing when I hear the window shatter.

You know, he was right. That wasn't so bad at all.


I materialize in the backyard again. Squaring my shoulders, I step through the second ring...

The Present

I'm in the Naboo delegation suites back on Coruscant. Senator Amidala is giving me my yearly review.

Oh, I HATE performance evaluations.

"One of the goals we talked about was for you to work on your communication skills," she says. "There has been some progress in this area, but not enough."

"Huh?" I say.

"That's exactly what I mean, Typho," she replies kindly.

"But I did what you asked," I insist. "I took some classes. I took Creative Listening and Interspecies Dialogue and--"

"That's not what I'm talking about," she says. "I'm talking about how you communicate with me."

"But I thought we communicated just fine. We have daily staff meetings. I keep you informed about all of the security matters. I--"

"Isn't there something you want to tell me?"


"Forget about all of the security information. What's the most important thing I need to know."

"Well..." I say uncomfortably.

"What keeps you from telling me things about myself that I need to know?" she says shrewdly.

"I guess I don't want to hurt your feelings," I admit. "And I'm not sure if it's my place to 'go there' with some of the issues I've seen."

"What's the worst that could happen if you communicated all these things openly?" Padmé asks.

"I could get fired."

"And then what?"

"Then..." I frown, thinking.

Well, so what? That's really not the worst fate in the galaxy. In fact, getting fired would set me free to do what ever I really want to do.

"Okay, let me say it, then. You're a total alcoholic and your boyfriend is a psycho who's going to come to a bad end. And you're picking up all of his bad habits and that reflects badly on our entire planet. And you haven't been acting lady-like."

She nods, pleased at my sudden ability to communicate clearly.

"It's like this," Padmé says. "I need to know that you'll always tell me the truth. Even if I don't want to hear it."

"That's it?"

"That's it," she smiles.

"I'll keep that in mind," I reply.

"Oh, and one more thing?"


"If you frakking call me a drunk again, you're fired."

"Promise? Thanks!" I say, smiling back.


Once again I materialize in the backyard. Eager to get this over with, I step through the last ring...

The Future

I'm on Naboo in my house in Kaadara. It's not new anymore. It's definitely seen better days. Still, it feels like home.

The sun will be rising soon. I have to take the boat out and catch fish.

Catch fish? This is what I'm going to end up as -- a fisherman? Aww no!

As I fix myself some breakfast, a teenage boy comes downstairs. He's dressed in a military uniform that's a variation of the Republic style. He's puffed up with self importance.

My son looks at me with scorn.

"Why do you bother getting up every day? You hardly ever catch anything," he snorts.

"Well, good morning to you too," I say. "I get up and I go out there every day because I like to earn an honest living."

"You're barely getting by. This place is falling apart," he argues. "You should come with me to Coruscant. You're not old. I could find you something to do. A cushy job, maybe in surveillance. You wouldn't really have to do anything."

I shake my head. "I like it here. I've been there. There's something about Coruscant. It eats away at your soul. Naboo is clean. Can't you see that?"

My kid hates me. I can't say that I'm surprised.

He shakes his head. "Frankly, no. Look, you used to be somebody. You had a decent job and you let yourself fall so far," he says. "I'm never going to be like you, that's for sure."

I nod. "I know. And that's okay."

He finishes his coffee and gets up. "I'm out of here."

"There'll always be a fishing net here with your name on it," I tell him.

"Star destroyers cast bigger nets," he says. He rolls his eyes and hoists his duffle bag on his back. And then he's gone.

I get it now. He's going to be who he needs to be. I can't make him into something else. And it doesn't necessarily mean a door between us will be shut forever.

Is this how I am with my father? Does he deserve that?


With that I emerge from the last ring. As I look back over my shoulder, the rings grow blindingly bright, then fade away.

I sit down in the grass with my eye closed. It's awhile before I've collected myself enough to go back inside the Big Brother house.