Monday, February 27, 2006

Oneida: Art that Might Endure, Maybe

I pondered the latest challenge. My medium is dance, but I'm really not a big fan of interpretive dance. Too easily could the glory of a sunrise look like the bad results of a night on the town. I can do traditional Naboo calligraphy, but that’s just letters, I can also write a few other languages. My painting skills are ok, but just aren’t anything I’d write home about. Sculpture would be a logical choice. But I would not employ the wheel, I’m thinking more impressive, something elegant yet sturdy. Ice would be different, but it’s too warm out, and with my luck, some artists would drone on and on about the implications of a single brush stroke and how it takes their painting from mundane to genius. By the time they’d get to me, I’d have a puddle to present. I also thought about carving a life size Yoda out of butter, but we only have three sticks of it in the refrigerator, so it wouldn’t really work, I’d only have about half an ear. It's hammer and chisel time.

My first effort was quite nice, but the rock was a bit flimsy. It started to fall apart. And honestly, who wants to look at some guy who’s lost his arms and most of his hair. Sheesh, not very inspiring, that type of injury would be a career ender, nobody wants to follow someone that uncoordinated or unlucky. The arms fell off my second statue, but that’s probably for the best, the camera men were way too interested in it. The head wouldn't stay on my thrid one, which I had really liked. Carving pleats in stone is very hard. Maybe I could stick another head on it later. I'm not sure if all the head and arm loss is a sign of something.

I was mulling another project when I realized I should probably try to appeal to the judge some. I thought long and hard about what would appeal to the Chancellor as I worked on my newest marble statue. The others had been made out of limestone, I think that’s why they disintegrated so easily. But this, this would last much longer, for better or for worse.

Finally, I was done. Covered head to toe in stone dust, I presented my statue to the Chancellor.





I hope *cough* he likes it and *cough cough* this cough isn’t permanent. And just in case that doesn’t appeal to him, while I was really tired and loopy, I did a quick bronze fountain. Very unique. And to be honest, now that I've had some sleep, it makes no sense to me. But that's what art is all about, confusing people.

Palps: What an interesting twist of fate…


Well, well, well.

If this isn’t an interesting place we all find ourselves in.

After my betrayal in the Survivor:Tatooine contest, I bet you all don’t remember what happened next, do you?

Now I am the master…er, uh, Judge.

(dramatic pause)

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

(ahem)…Carry on…

Jon: Artiste Extrodonaire Beyond Compare

See now, this is my kind of challenge, art is my forte. Forget about all that stuff that you think I might do well like shooting up pirate ships or hanging Spider-Man posters to make a room look cool or Intergalactic Gladiating, my first love has always been my painting.

In fact, if I may brag for just a moment, in high school, my art teacher let me continue to paint oil paintings even though the rest of the class had to move on to watercolors. See, he saw my potential, and now I have a chance to show that potential to an audience larger than one crazy old man.

It’s fortunate that I just happen to have my portfolio in the Danger Sled, and I'm sure that I can easily take a few of those paintings and goose them up a little to make them work for the competition. Let’s see…



I made this little number a while ago. I was calling it The Shriek, but I think that it will do just nicely with Fluke's face added to it. "Oh no, I tightened the bolt too tightly! What do I do?"



Here's another one of my favorites, I used to call it American Gothic, but since these people haven't ever been to America, I'll just call it Nabooan Gothic. I think they'll like it, but it really doesn't matter because what do these people really know about art? They have their robots making art for them, you know, because people on a paradise like Naboo just don't have time to make art.



JawaJuice should appreacite this. In fact, I bet it'll make him feel famous -- for 15 minutes at least.



I was calling this one La Gioconda, I guess that I may as well put Yoda's mug on top of it. I think this does him good. You know, I bet he wouldn't be so grouchy all the time if he weren't so short.



OK, last one. Who doesn't love Dogs Playing Poker? And look, there's Sniffy right there, playing along. All those dogs sure are having fun!

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Challengen #7

Okeyday, "guests", issen time to kicken itsa up a notch. Now dat wesa are down to half der original number of oursa contestants, wesa gonna start maken der challenges more important. Instead of bein protecten from one vote, der winner of each challenge will be immune to all votes for dat week - so yousa better try hard for oursa viewers, okeyday?

Also, from now on, all of der challenges will have a single judge from der outside world - thissen week, yoursa efforts will be judgen by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.

Now, Challenge 7: here in der Big Brother house, mesa hassen setten up an art room. Wesa have clay, marble, stone, chisels, potter's wheels, a kiln - der workens. Yousa task issen to show yoursa artistic talent and build a sculpture for ussen!

Now, getten moven on!

Padmé: Buh-Bye

Are you, like, kidding me? I am voted off???

K, like, whatevah. I see how you all are, ya know. Your little alliances and conspiracies {eyes Oneida & Typho suspiciously}. Rumor-spreading {glances at Master Yoda}. Sabotaging R2D2 {points a finger at Jon}. Tempting me with liquor so I do stupid things {looks disgustingly at JJ and Fluke}.

Well, let me tell you, when the day comes that one of you needs some special Senate treatment, we'll just see how far you get.

At least I can get back to my own wardrobe now! I am, like, SO sick of wearing these clothes and only having five pairs of shoes to choose from.

{Padmé storms out of the Big Brother house, slamming the door behind her.}

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Voten-Offen Six

Okeyday, contestants, der ballots aresa in, der votes haven been maken, der die issen cast, blah blah blah. Der sixth person to be voten off of Big Brother: Naboo issen...







































Senator Padme, yousa aresa bein voten out of der Big Brother house.

To all der rest of yousa: wellen doin. Yousa have maken itsa into der top half - congratulalations. Mesa will seein all of yousa tomorrow mornen for yousa next exciten challenge!

Friday, February 24, 2006

*Phew* Thassen wassen close

Jar Jar: Excellenten! Yousa all fighten muy valiantly, and-
Fluke: So who won?
Jar Jar: Eh?
Fluke: You said "consider thissen yoursa challenge". Who won?
Jar Jar: Mmm. Mesa had noah tinken about dat. Hmm. Lessen say itsa a draw, okeyday? Now, lessen get to voten. Yousa all noah der drill, yessy?



Whosa should be voten off?
Yoda
Jon
Fluke
Jawa Juice
Typho
Padme
Oneida
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Staarrrrrbuckerrrr: Blimey!

JAR JAR: "Er... consider thissen yousa challenge. Mesa going now!"

Great! I thought. I turned and looked out into the vast oceanic scene, with pirate ships approaching, and I couldn't help but think to myself... 'Wow, this is a high budget show'. And it's a good thing, too, because Jon totally ruined the Eastern wall of this house when he summoned his DangerMobile, and made a ridiculous mess... now I'm gonna have to redo all that laundry.

I ended up hitching a ride with Jon out to the ships, but then one of the ships started firing at us, and Jon started throwing around orders or something, I think... It was kinda loud at the time... bossing me, like I was a crew member or something, so I gave him a quick poppy Jedi-Wannabe one-finger salute and bailed towards the nearest crow's nest (that we happened to be flying right over at the time).

I landed hard, and as I regained my footing to gain my bearings, I caught a glimpse of their flag...

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It was the most hideous Jolly Roger I'd ever seen! What had I gotten myself into? I wondered. I quickly shimmied down the rigging and ignited my lightsabre, ready for anything


"Avast!" I heard behind me... what the heck does that mean? I wondered.... So I spun around.... and there was a pirate there with a fancy schmancy piece of metal... he was holding it like a lightsabre, but it wasn't illuminated at all.

FLUKE: "What'd you say? A vast? A vast what? A vast ocean?"

PIRATE 1: "Belay ye yammerin! Ye bilge-suckin lubberrrrr. Is ye be set ta dance with Jack Ketch? Aye?"

Huh? What did he say?

FLUKE: "Huh? What did you say?"

PIRATE 1: "Dead men tell no tales, Me cutlass ull run ya thru!"

I couldn't understand a word this wacko was spewing!

FLUKE: "I can't understand a word you're saying! Is your mouth full of marbles, or something?"

Then he started running towards me, swinging his little shiny metal stick looking thing as he came. I held up my lightsabre to block it as he swung and *CHINK* his stick was cut clean into as he swung, but the durned end that got severed hit me in the chest

FLUKE: "OW!"

He paused for just a sec, looking at his short stick with wide eyes... "Shiver me timbers!" He exclaimed.

PIRATE 1: "oooOOOOOooH, a fancy scabbard that was! Ye goona meet rrrrrope's end fer that! Kissin the gunnar's daughter too good fer ye, but a keelhaulin doos nicety!"

I think I understood something he just said...

FLUKE: "Uh... what's the gunner's daughter look like?"

Then the pirate pulled some sort of blaster looking thing... it reminded me of JJ's blaster, except it didn't have a black toilet-paper tube taped onto the end... and he pointed it right at me, but then he yelled really loud to someone off camera...

PIRATE 1: "Ahoy, powder monkey! We've a poxed dog 'ere, he's anxous ta feed da fish!"

another Pirate dude came a running up some steps

FLUKE: "Don't point that at me." I said, and sliced through his little blaster looking thing with my lightsabre.

Woah, you shoulda seen the look on their faces then.


PIRATE 2: "Well, sink me! C'merrrre me mateys! Smartly, mateys! Handsomely now! Me Brethren o' the coast! Make haste! Bring the Cap'n!"

At that, several other pirate dudes came running up out of the wood work... they kinda got all around me. Man, they stank! But none of 'em had their sticks out... so I turned off my lightsabre, and looked them over, in much the same way they were looking me over... kinda hunched over, with a pouty bottom lip, and one eye open wider than the other...

PIRATE 3: "Gangway! Gangway! Make way fer de Cap'n!"

Then the crowd of them kinda parted and one of them with a fancy-schmancy hat walked up and spoke some more gibberish with the others that had met me already... I think he was kinda upset that I had broken their toys.

FLUKE: "Uh, look, I'm sorry I cut up that dude's litt..."

FANCY HAT: "Silence!"

FLUKE: "Hey, you talk norma..."

FANCY HAT: "SILENCE, ye scurvy lad! I be doin the talkin herrrrre!"

FLUKE: "pshaw. You had me fooled."

FANCY HAT: "Arrrrre ya addled? What's ya keep yappin ferrrr? I. SAID. SILENCE!!! Now, who arrrre ya?"

FLUKE: "..."

FANCY HAT: "Well?"

FLUKE: "..."

FANCY HAT: "Cat get yer tongue, now?"

FLUKE: "Look, you just threw a big hissy a second ago b/c I was talking, and now your asking me stuff. You want me to talk?... and ignore your first request?... or keep silent, and..."

FANCY HAT: "Oh, just tell me yer name, lad."

FLUKE: "Starbucker, Fluke Starbucker."

I heard a gasp in the back of the crowd. The Fancy Hatted dude heard it too, and headed that way... the crowd opened for him as he swaggered. He talked with some other guy for a moment... just out of my earshot... something about the French, and liking Mayonaisse, I think...

Finally, after a bit, the guy with the hat made his way back to me...


FANCY HAT: "Turns we've 'errrrd some about cha, worm-turner."

Man, I wish this blog offered subtitles.

FLUKE: "What did you say?"

FANCY HAT: "We know about cha. Ol' numb-nuts Hooligan therrrre seen ya's showin a might fine picturrrrrres of a cerrrrtain Prrrrrincess on the Surrrrrrvivorrrrrr movin picturrrrre show, n' she was wearrrrin a glimmerrrrry... sparrrrrkley.... gooooolden dressy."

He licked his lips and displayed a look of anticipation for my confirmation...

FLUKE: "Uh... well... yeah, but that wasn't supposed to be aired..."

FANCY HAT: "Oh, shut yerrr pie hole! So what if it was'n suppose ta airrrrrr? Do ya's got's it wit ya??"

everyone around us leaned in, kinda like when EF Hutton used to speak...

FLUKE: "what? The picture?... maybe."

FANCY HAT: "No! Ya addlepate! Not tha picturrrrrre, the dressy!

FLUKE: "No... immediately a murmer began, and grew... I realized I had incensed them, so I yelled, BUT! I know where it is!"

immediately, they all went silent and looked at me...

FANCY HAT: "OH, ya do, do ya? And joost wherrrre, prrrray tell, is it?"

I knew I had leverage.

FLUKE: "Not so fast, Mr. man. I'll tell ya, but it'll cost you..."

FANCY HAT: "Com'ere boy, let us rrrrrreason togetherrrrr."

The crowd began murmering again as he led me up to the aft of his ship. When he realized they were all watching and standing around, he hollered, "What'cha doin, get ta worrrrk or I'll be waylayin ya with me belayin pin, n' scupperin ya to the brrrrriny deep!"

At that, they scattered like roaches.

Fancy Hat then dug around in a small chest near the steering wheel thingy,
"Me bucko, 'ave some grog. Splice yer mainbrace. Now, what 'ave ye gots in yer belfrrrrey?"

I took a long swig... ACK! It was the most watered down rum I'd ever tasted!

FLUKE: "Well, I was thinking... I could tell you'ns where to find the fair Princess, if you leave and Never come back... and give me a little booty."

He looked shocked and offended at my offer.

FANCY HAT: "Thar be nary butt pirates on this ship! They're on the next ship over, been watchin us through theirrr spyglass... see? Use yer deadlights."

He handed me a telescope to look through, and pointed to another ship out the window...

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FANCY HAT: "Them's Imperial pirates. They may be willin to hand overrrr the booty."

FLUKE: "OH, no...not that! I mean 'booty' like 'swag'?"

He looked at me curiously...

FLUKE: "Don't you know what I'm talking about? Holy Guacamole! You've been blabbering on in pirate-speak this whole time, and yet... you don't know about booty?!?... Or SWAG??!?!? It's like, a pirate word for treasure."

FANCY HAT: "TREASURE! Arrrrrr. Treasure!... 'n loot!"

FLUKE: "Yes! Loot! Do you have any that you'd be willing to trade for the Princess' location?... uh... she knows where that dress is."

Fancy hat then led me down to the belly of his ship, where many chests were laid out... but not stacked at all...

FLUKE: "Why isn't it piled up?"

FANCY HAT: "What e'rrr do ye mean?"

FLUKE: "This... *this booty is only shin deep*."

FANCY HAT: "Arrrrrr. Take a chest, any chest, then give us the locale, and be on yar way!"

So I grabbed a chest, gave them Leia's web addy (but didn't tell them that she hasn't updated in ages) and then was on my way back to the BB house as they sailed off

But durn, if I didn't grab a crappy chest! Best I can tell, It looks like they were software pirates more than anything... The chest had hundreds of these disks:

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but, There was a nice tub of Paarrrrkay:

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...and a Parrots t-shirt:

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...and an old flyer for some corn sale or something...

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Starbucker Out



Oh, while there were no subtitles, here is a Pirate to English translation of the phrases and words used, in the order they appear:

Blimey! -- An exclamation of surprise
Crow's nest -- A small platform, sometimes enclosed, near the top of a mast, where a lookout could have a better view when watching for sails or for land.
Jolly Roger -- The pirates' skull-and-crossbones flag. It was an invitation to surrender, with the implication that those who surrendered would be treated well. A red flag indicated "no quarter."
Avast! -- "Hey!" Could be used as "Stop that!" or "Who goes there?"
Belay -- Stop that. "Belay that talk!" would mean "Shut up!"
Yammerin -- also, Yappin -- carrying on with words when you should be quiet
Bilge-sucking -- A very uncomplimentary adjective. The bilges of a ship are the lowest parts, inside the hull along the keel. They fill with stinking bilgewater -- or just "bilge."
Landlubber or just lubber -- A non-sailor.
Jack Ketch -- The hangman. To dance with Jack Ketch is to hang.
Dead men tell no tales -- Standard pirate excuse for leaving no survivors.
Cutlass -- A curved sword, like a saber but heavier. Traditional pirate weapon. Has only one cutting edge; may or may not have a useful point.
Shiver me timbers! -- An expression of surprise or strong emotion.
Rope's end -- a term for flogging. "Ye'll meet the rope's end for that, me bucko!"
Kiss the gunner's daughter -- A punishment: to be bent over one of the ship's guns and flogged.
Keelhaul -- Punishment by dragging under the ship, from one side to the other. The victim of a keelhauling would be half-drowned, or worse, and lacerated by the barnacles that grew beneath the ship.
Ahoy -- "Hello!" or "Hey there!"
Powder Monkey -- a gunner's assistant.
Poxy, poxed -- Diseased. Used as an insult.
Dog -- A mild insult, perhaps even a friendly one.
Feed the fish -- What you do when you are thrown into the sea, dead or alive.
Sink me! -- An expression of surprise
Matey -- A piratical way to address colleagues.
Smartly -- Quickly. "Smartly there, men!" = "Hurry up!"
Handsomely -- Quickly. "Handsomely now, men!" = "Hurry up!"
Brethren of the Coast -- The Caribbean buccaneers called themselves by this name in the 1640-1680 period. During this time, they actually formed a sort of fraternity, and did not (usually) fight each other or even steal from each other. After 1680, a new generation of pirates appeared, who did not trust each other . . . with good reason.
Gangway! -- "Get out of the way!"
Scurvy -- (1) A deficiency disease which often afflicted sailors; it was caused by lack of vitamin C. (2) A derogatory adjective suitable for use in a loud voice, as in "Ye scurvy dogs!"
Lad, lass, lassie -- A way to address someone younger than you.
Addled -- Mad, insane, or just stupid
Worm-turner -- a man as good as dead
pie hole -- mouth, usually from which comes too many words
addlepate -- fool
waylayin -- administer a beating
Belaying pin -- A short wooden rod to which a ship's rigging is secured. A common improvised weapon aboard a sailing ship, because they're everywhere, they're easily picked up, and they are the right size and weight to be used as clubs.
Scuppers -- Openings along the edges of a ship's deck that allow water on deck to drain back to the sea rather than collecting in the bilges. "Scupper that!" is an expression of anger or derision: "Throw that overboard!"
Briny deep -- The ocean. Probably no pirate in all history ever used this phrase, but don't let that stop you, especially if you can roll the R in "briny"!

Bucko -- Familiar term. ' me bucko' = 'my friend'
Grog -- Generically, any alcoholic drink. Specifically, rum diluted with water to make it go farther

Splice the mainbrace -- to have a drink, or perhaps, several
Booty -- loot, swag, treasure
Spyglass -- a telescope
Deadlights -- eyes.
*Thanks, Jon*

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Yoda: What the...?

Up on one of the pirate ships I jumped. Through several bloodthirsty, scary, scary pirates I fought. Finally I yelled, "Your captain I demand to see!"

"I'm the captain!" a voice called.

Around I turned and a very intimidating figure I saw. The scariest, rougest-looking member of the crew this captain was. Scare anyone he could. I picture I can show you below.


But for the faint of heart it is not.






Out of the room send the younglings.





Sure you want to see this are you? Scared you will be.


OK...


















See how scary-looking this crew is, do you?

My courage I mustered up. "Call off this attack you will, or through you I will run my lightsaber."

"Not so fast!" a woman's voice called.

















"Dormé? You that is? Doing on a pirate ship what are you?"

"First of all, I'm
Sabé, not Dormé. God, I am so tired of people confusing me with her! Anyway, I'm on this ship to be with my one true love..."




"... Captain Kermit."








"Ok, weird that is. But attacking us why are you?"

"She knows," Dormé Sabé said as behind me she pointed.

Around I turned, and there Senator Amidala was. Just climbed aboard she had.

"Yes, I know why. It was years ago, but I still remember," the senator said, "I remember the hot, steamy, love affair Captain Kermit and I had, those passionate evenings on that beach on Endor..."

"Ok," I said, "grossing me out you people are."

Senator Amidala continued, "And I remember how jealous, you were,
Dormé."

"
Sabé!"

"Whatever! You couldn't stand it that Captain Kermit loved me, and not you."

"Yes!" Dor-, uh, Sabé yelled, "Yes! Alright? I was jealous! But who wouldn't be jealous watching another woman throw herself all over this stud-muffin! But things are different now! He loves me, not you! He never loved you! You were just a meaningless fling!"

"Wait," I said, "Talking about this Captain Kermit, are you?"

"Well," Captain Kermit said, "I am known as a bit of a ladies' frog."

Just then, aboard Lt. Cmdr. Oneida climbed. "Oh my God! Captain Kermit! I would never have dreamt I would see you again, my love!"

Completely freaked out at this point, I was.

"This is my man, uh, frog!"
Sabé said, "You hussies stay away from him!"

"Get over yourself,
Dormé," Oneida said, "he could never love a trollup like you!"

"For the love of God, I'm Sab
é!"

"You're still a trollup."

Exchanging insults, all three girls started.

"Floozy!"

"Tramp!"

Then fighting they all started. Pulling hair, biting, and scratching, they were. Getting really ugly it was. But uglier it soon got when the fight some pig with blonde hair joined.

"Keep your mitts off of my frog, bimbos!" the pig yelled. Then some amazing Karate moves she started to perform. A terrible beating, she gave
Sabé, Amidala, and Oneida. Hard to watch it was.

Possibly the weirdest experience of my entire life this was. Saying alot that is. With Windu I live.




"Hey Waldorf, would you kiss a frog?"

"It couldn't be any worse than having to read this post!"

"Ah, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Typho: Night of the Living Gungans

When the pirates started attacking I wouldn’t say I was stunned, but...

Okay, maybe I was stunned.

I mean, this can’t be real, right?

There must be drugs, or hypnotism involved, or-- was that a dagger that just whizzed by my head?

I grabbed Jar Jar as he tried to flee.

“Let mesa go!” he screamed. “Cutlasses are bad for mesa skin!”

“Not so fast,” I said. “We need weapons. Are there any stashed anywhere? Do the cameramen have any? What about those reinforcements you mentioned!”

“What yousa thinkin’? Thersa nothing yousa can use except...”

“WHAT?” I said impatiently as a buccaneer tried to kick me with his pegleg.

“This house issen built on sacred Gungan ground. Wesa can conjure ancient Gungan warriors. Make that YOUSA can. Mesa outta here!”

He tossed me a flask with a potion in it and scampered away. I held the flask and debated how -- and if -- to use it. I had a bad experience with one of his potions before, but as I saw the chaos erupting around me, I decided I had nothing to lose.

I sprinkled the green toxic-looking liquid on the floor and held my breath. At first nothing happened, then tiny furrows appeared in the ground. What looked like vines sprouted from the cracks in the earth and took the shape of the most hideous Gungans you ever saw. No offense -- they were undead after all.

They stared at me and for one sobering second I was sure they were going to rise up and attack me. Then I realized that they were awaiting orders.

“TO THE SHIPS!” I said. I led the charge into the water and we took over the rowboats of the pirates trying to make their way to the shore. In minutes I was on one of the ships joining Jon and JJ. In desperation the pirates tried to fire their cargo of bootleg DVDs at us, but they only succeeded in starting a fire.

Between the pounding laid on the ships by the Danger Sled and JJ’s killing frenzy (what in the world got into him?), the pirates were doomed. I took the liberty to grab a bottle of rum. What the hell? They had some good stuff.

Seeing Jardena in an altercation on another ship, I grabbed a rope, swung over to her ship and landed by her side (I always wanted to do something cool like that).

I admired her “pirate lass” attire. “Nice,” I said, taking out a handkerchief to wipe off the ink stains on her face. “I promise not to laugh,” I said with a grin.

Meanwhile, the Gungan undead continued mauling the pirates...

Padme: Prepare to Die!

 As Jar Jar ran off like a blathering child, we all stood near JJ’s door watching the approaching pirate ships. So totally NOT cool. With the knowledge of how much liquor was stashed in JJ’s room, I knew we had to take some serious action. I calmly gathered everyone together in huddle-like fashion and got them geared up.

“K, like, we need to totally kick some pirate booty here. Whatever happens out there, follow my lead. I'm SO not interested in getting into a war here. As a member of the Senate, maybe I can, like, find a diplomatic solution to this mess.”

“Sorry, flygirl, you’re on your own,” said JJ. “This is my room and I’ve got a plan.” He ran off like a madman, uh, madjawa. Hmph! Then the rest of the housemates split up, all with their own ideas of how to fight the pirates. Great. Just great.

I stood alone on the beach and watched a pirate run through the water toward me. I tossed off my cloak, rolled up my sleeves and drew my blaster.

Pirate: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Padme, pointing blaster at him: K, whatever.

Pirate: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Padme: Like, you just said that.

Pirate: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Padme: You are like totally freaking me out, dude. Who is your father?

Pirate: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Padme: Shuh! I didn’t kill anyone!

Pirate: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Padme: Are you like some kinda mental case?

Pirate: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

He finally drew his sword and lunged at me. I blasted him square in the chest. He stumbled back and fell. I backed away slowly, looking around to see where everyone else was. Bummer, I totally didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Suddenly, he stood up and started toward me again.

Pirate: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Padme: DUDE! You are like INSANE!

I nailed him again with my blaster and then roundhouse-kicked him upside the head. Captain Typho and Oneida ran over and fought at my side. He was pretty much toast, and the three of us stood over his limp body.

Pirate (sputtering and coughing): Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

Typho: What is he talking about?

Padme: Beats me. The dude’s whacked.

Oneida: Hey, that name sounds really familiar. I think my clones once told me it was the real name of some bounty hunter... what was his name? Um... Wait, I got it – Boba Fett. Inigo Montoya must be Boba Fett.

Padme: Boba, it wasn’t your fault. (pause)

Padme: It wasn’t your fault. (pause)

Padme: It wasn’t your fault. (pause)

Typho: Yeah, wasn’t it Mork?


J.J.: Ooooo! First Issue!
























































































































































































































































































































Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Oneida: Dealing with Morgan

Pirates? I squinted at the horizon. I could see wooden ships with large billowing sails heading towards us. What type of pirates are those? And what are they shooting at us, a big ball of metal? How primitive. But that does work in our favor, if they were modern pirates with modern weapons, it’d be a lopsided battle.

I looked around to see what I could use to battle the ships. As I did, Jon’s ship came crashing through the still solid, normal reality wall. Sniffy watched as he zipped up to his ship. She then walked over to me. “Woof woof!” I looked at her, “Gee Sniffy I don’t know.” “Woof woof woof?” she asked. That was a good question, I had no idea what these pirates wanted. “Woof.” Also a good point, if we showed them violence, the only possible response these seafaring folk would have would be violence, perhaps we should try to negotiate. Then I stopped, what am I saying? I’m in the military, shoot first ask questions later, negotiation is Padmè’s deal. I pondered making a cannon that would shoot coconuts at the approaching ship, but while a neat idea, it would do jack against the ships; some of them looked like they were armored as they neared land.

A heat shimmer, or at least what looked like a heat shimmer, passed over myself and Sniffy. “Woof woof wofity woof?” “What do you mean ‘what on the outer rim am I wearing, same thing that..” I looked down, oh, hmm, maybe not the same thing I wore into the room. My clothes had changed into a corseted top, a ruffly skirt with a slit up the side, and some sweet knee high boots. As I examined my new outfit and tried to figure out if I should go change, Sniffy warned me that a pirate was approaching. I turned and saw him.

I made a face. What a poofy foofy pirate, how could he tolerate the heat in a get up like that? He was carrying a bottle of rum and had the swagger of either an overly confident man, or one who didn’t all his faculties about him. But he moved with astounding speed. “Arr, the Captain’s been here,” he said triumphantly. I looked over at Sniffy, who was now sporting a piratey goatee. I touched my own face, black ink came off on to my hands. I looked at him, “You are so dead, I’m going to..” before I knew it, he had embraced me and tilted me backwards. I realized two things at that moment

1) The two of us must look like the most jacked up romance novel cover EVER
2) My clones probably Tivo’d this and I was never ever going to live it down

I didn’t think things could get worse. Then the pirate looked deep into my eyes and started to ask, “Arr, my pretty lass, do you want a ….” Before he could complete what I could only imagine was a very well used line, I was out of his hold, had taken the bottle of rum from his hand and broke it over his head. He lay unconscious on the ground. I looked at the dog, “Come on Sniffy, lets go get cleaned up before too many people see us like this.” When we left, it looked like the others had things pretty well in hand. But if this marker turns out to be permanent, that foofy pirate better know how to swim, fast.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Jon: This post is brought to you today by the letter Arrrrrrrr

The pirate ships were approaching! Quickly, I called the Danger Sled with my Wristcomm. Everyone dove for cover as my ship crashed through a wall. I fired a magnetic grapple from my harpoon launcher and it stuck fast to the skin of my space plane.

Fluke ran up to me and wrapped his arms around me as I started to lift away. He puckered up his lips towards me. “For luck!” He yelled above the engines. “Smoochie smoochie!”

“Knock it off, ya goof!” I hollered back.

Responding to a string of commands from my communicator, the Danger Sled fired on one of the ships with its powerful cannons. The energy lanced through the ship, scorching holes in the deck and setting the sails on fire. In short order, the ship was a burning wreck.


Other ships responded, fire from their own laser cannons traced across the sky as the Danger Sled banked around their formation. Burning light hit the hull and smoke exploded from the engines.

I cursed loudly, though I couldn’t tell if Fluke could hear me. He offered me a snappy salute and dove away from me, aiming his body towards the crow’s nest of a ship. I swung from the cable and landed on the deck of another ship myself. I sent the Danger Sled away, lest it be hit by more cannon fire.

A pirate leapt in front of me. “Arrr, what ye be doin’ on arrrrrrr ship the Darrrrrrk Sharrrrrk? I’ll run ye through, landlubber!”

I judo chopped him in the shoulder, pulled his cutlass from its scabbard and heaved him overboard.

Another pirate rushed up, his own sword drawn. “I’ll cut ye down, ye dirty scalawag!”

“I know you arrrrrr, but what am I?” I responded, engaging him with my sword.

We traded swipes and parries. I knew that I had to finish him off before his shipmates arrived. I drove close to him and brought my knee up into his stomach. As he doubled over, I judo tossed him into the drink as well.

Five more pirates leapt in front of me, each one striking a karate pose.

“Ninja pirates,” I groaned. “Why’d it have to be ninja pirates? I hate ninja pirates.”

“Ye just earned yer trip to Davy Jones Locker!” growled one.

“You mean Davy Jones the Monkee?” I asked. “He’s dreamy!”

“No, you scurvy dog!!” The ninja pirates swung and kicked towards me.

I dove out of the way and chopped the ropes on the mast with my sword. A sail dropped onto them and they began waving their arms beneath the giant denim trap.

I ran towards the cabin of the ship, one more pirate stood there, looming over me. His unpatched eye glinted much like the hook on his hand. I looked down at his legs. One was wooden, of course, the other hosted a colorful sock.

“What’s with the sock?” I pointed.

“It’s arrrrrrgyle,” he sneered.

“And how’d you get the peg leg?”

“In a fight, a fierce battle at sea, a cannonball tore of me leg,” he answered.

“And what about the hook?”

“In another fierce battle, my enemy cut off me hand in a sword fight,” he snarled.

“Oh.” I could see that happening, I guess. “What about the eyepatch?”

“One day, I looked up at the seagulls, and one crapped in me eye.”

“So?” I answer. “You shouldn’t have lost an eye from that.”

“Arrr, I wasn’t used to the hook yet!” He roared. He swung his hook at me. I dodged the clumsy attack and wrapped my arms around him in a submission hold. After a few seconds, he collapsed on the deck and I ran down into the belly of the ship.

I screeched to a halt, towering over me was the largest, meanest, smelliest pirate of them all.

“Yarrr, they call me the Main Boss, and I shall club yer bones! Arrrr!”

I dodged his attack, something told me that I would only get one shot at this. He laughed heartily, attacked again and as before, I dove out of his way. He laughed once more and lunged. I rolled away and fired my Sonic Stun blast at him; he shielded himself with his forearms though, and laughed again.

I think that I was starting to see his pattern. When he swung at me, I dodged and kicked him in the gut. He doubled over in pain, but he quickly recovered and backhanded me across the room. He laughed again and I quickly threw my foot into his stomach a second time.

It felt like this would go on forever, but after kicking and dodging too many times to count, Main Boss began to howl. He then fell flat on his face, knocked out by the traded blows.

I looked at the other end of the room and I saw a treasure chest! Quickly, I ran over and kicked the lock off. The chest popped open and I realized that these pirates were more dangerous than I thought.


They were video pirates!

Sunday, February 19, 2006

Challengen #6

Jar Jar: Okeyday, guests, issen time for another- hey, wheresa issen Jawajuice? Oh, wesa starten without himsa. Hesa late, issen hissen fault.

Suddenly, Jawajuice rushes into the room.

Jawajuice: Guys, come quick!

He rushes out of the room again. No one moves. Jawajuice looks back into the room.

Jawajuice: In my room! Come on!

In Jawajuice’s room…

Jawajuice: Look!
Fluke: Uh… I don’t see anything.
Jawajuice: Look harder! Look at the holographic paint on the walls.
Jar Jar: Issen theresa a point to thissen?
Jon: Wait a minute… That isn’t a holographic tropical island scene… it’s a real tropical island scene!
Padme: Like, whoa! That’s, like, totally cool!
Oneida: Isn’t that… you know… physically impossible?
Master Yoda: Many mysteries holds the Force… much to learn you still have.
Oneida: Do you know what’s happening, Master Yoda?
Master Yoda: Say that I did not! Have a clue, how can I be expected to? Just wanted to sound mysterious and deep did I.
Jawajuice: You still aren’t looking! Look out there! On the horizon!
Typho: Isn’t that the Jolly Roger?
Jon: Several, by the looks of it.

Suddenly, there is a loud boom in the distance and a cannonball plops into the water a few meters away.

Jar Jar: Wesa beein attacken by pirates! Aaaaaaah!!! Yousa fighten themsa off, mesa will go and hide under mesa b- er… mesa will go and gather reinforcements. Yes.

Jar Jar runs screaming from the room.

Fluke: What about the challenge?

Jar Jar pokes his head around the door.

Jar Jar: Er... consider thissen yousa challenge. Mesa going now!

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Voten-Offen 5

Another week hassen been and going, and another person issen about to be voten out of der Big Brother House. Thissen week's evicted guest issen...


































General Grievous. Packen yousa bags, general, yousa aresa outsa of heresa!

Friday, February 17, 2006

*Sniff* Soah Beautifullen...

Der judges hassen comen to a descision. All...*glances at Padme* Well, most of yoursa poems weresa berry moving, and theysa have haven mucho difficultness in der choosen of der winner. Eventually, theysa comen up with...

Master Yoda's Ode to Dolly!

Master Yoda will haven one vote's worth of protection in oursa voten-offen: beginnen now! Yousa knoah der drill: contestants e-mailen mesa, viewers usen der poll below.



Whosa should be voten off?
Yoda
Jon
Fluke
Grievous
Jawa Juice
Typho
Padme
Oneida
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Thursday, February 16, 2006

Yoda: Ode to Dolly Parton

My soul I poured into this. My heart I bared. Happy you are, I hope! Naked my soul is now!


Dolly, please excuse me, ma'am

Truly, deeply, in love I am
If far across the sea I swam,
all the way to Vietnam
and back I brought a giant clam,

If you I sent a kiss-o-gram
or you I cooked a tasty yam
or perhaps a rack of lamb
or maybe a Virginia ham,

Finally would you notice me?
My feelings for you would you see?
And in love with me would you be?
Your feelings could you guarantee?

Or if a dance for you I do
Or on my arm your name tattoo
Deign to be my sweetie would you?
Walk down the aisle with me could you?

What? But for me you are not hot?
Not after all that stuff I bought?
So In love with me you are not?
Oh what a load of Wookie snot!

Sniff. Excuse me, a little choked up I am. Alone I need to be.


.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Grievous: Ode to the Republic

Poetry, the one subject I hated at Sunday school, the only day of school really.

It just had to be poetry, wasn't a “Who can smite the enemy the fastest?” Or “Who can walk on the metal ceiling contest?” It was a poetry contest!

I got out my virtual notebook, and started to write down some ideas.

I consulted an old Poetry book, used to prop up one corner if a sofa three people were sitting on.

I thought about the war.

When my Stylus was whittled away and my notebook starting to smoulder I was done, time to face my fears and read it in front of every one.

"Ahh..... *cough**hack**splutter* My poem is called "Ode to the Republic" based on the Ode to Autumn but the great Sith Lord Keats"

----------------------------------

" War of lasers and mellow greenness,
Close bosom-friend of the Force;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With knowledge the younglings that round the Jedi Temple run;
To bend with power the tired courtyard-trees,
And fill all Padawans with power to the core;
To swell the mind, and plump the energy cells
With a sweet sense; to set stirring more,
And still more, later Brownies for the Clones,
Until they think warm days will never cease;
For War has o'erbrimm'd their clammy suits.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy Council Chambers?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a Council chair,
Thy greenness yellow-turned by the setting sun;
Or in a half-speed speeder sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of Coruscant, while thy indicator
Spares the next collision and all its twinèd wrecks:
And sometimes like a sleeper thou dost look
Steady thy laden head across a stick;
Or by a departing-ship, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last battalion, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Victory? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the laser-pains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small civilians moan
Among the heavenly-bridges, borne aloft
Or under as the light waves live or die;
And full-grown Clones loud bleat from turret mount;
Mace Windu sings; and now with treble soft
The Emperor whistles from a lofty office;
And gathering Senators dart among the skies."

----------------------------------

I casually walked away from Jar Jar and set about containing the fire stemming from my notebook.

Starbucker: Love and Determination

FLUKE: (whispering)"psst...Hey, Jon... I just got some inspiration to rhyme! Just a little while ago - when Padme was jumping around... and hollering 'yo!yo!yo!'? Well, her skirt kinda blew up for a sec and... here goes -

I saw her heiney,
all white and shiney.

I just made that up, like right now... isn't that cool? I'm a poet and didn't even realize it. "

Fluke then steps up onto the stage, and produces a few papers from his tunic...

FLUKE: "Uh... I wrote two of these poems some time ago, I hope that's ok... I didn't have a whole lot of immediate inspiration ... except just earlier when Padme's dress flew up... But I did write one this week about Gungan determination, and I'd like to conclude with it."

The judges look at one another and shrug... but say nothing...

FLUKE: "Uh... ok...

...Well then, without further ado, here's a poem explaining how I became a farmer... You see, I farm to preserve memories of my first true love - a love so perfect... *sigh*

*ahem*

I planted a rose for the way my spirits rose up when we met,
A forget-me-not to remind me to remember to not forget,

A pine tree for the way I always pined over you,
And an ash for the day that I ashed you to be true.

Your mother and your cousin, Chris, they often used to come,
So in their honor I had raised a nice Chris-and-the-mum.

I planted a beetroot for the day you said that you'd beet root to me,
A sweat pea for the sweet way that you always smiled at me,

But you had friends who needed you, there was Ferdi, there was Liza,
So just for them I put down a stinky load of Ferdi-Liza.

There were nine carrots to remind me of the ring I bought for you,
Some mint for all the crazy things that we had mint to do,

A lettuce 'cause your mom and dad would not lettuce alone,
I did't put in the truffles, you had truffles of your own.

An artichoke for the 'hearty jokes' your father used to tell,
And since he was a goober I planted some peanuts as well.

Some shallots for the times I said I love you such-shallot,
Some capers to remind me of what up to which we got.

A turnip for the way you always used to turnip late,
A melon for the meloncholy way I used to wait.

There's gooseberrys to remind me of the pinches you gave to me,
An eggplant because you used to egg me on incessantly,

Then my so-called friend Gus stole your heart, and you left with him too,
And the fungus that now grows reminds me of the fun Gus is having with you.

Now the rockery's a mockery, with weeds it's overgrown,
The fuchsia's gone, 'cause I couldn't face the fuchsia all alone.

And my tears fell like raindrops from the sky above,
And poisoned all the flowers in my garden of love."

Fluke bows

ONEIDA: "Awwww, that's so sweet! You must have loved this girl so much!... did you really plant all this stuff?"

FLUKE: "That's right."

ONEDIA: "...and you dedicated your life to farming over this? This one girl that broke your heart?... and then wrote a poem in her memory?"

FLUKE: "Yep, and yep."

ONEIDA: "Wow, how romantic! What was her name?"

FLUKE: "Oh, heck, i dunno... but here's another poem I wrote for some other chick that came along a few weeks later. It mighta been Corde... yeah, Corde... as least, I think it was Corde:

*ahem*

I rise at six and then I feed the chicks,
And I'm feeling lonesome and blue,
And when I milk the cow it seems, somehow,
My thoughts keep straying to you.

And as the ronto and I plough the field nearby,
Your memory I can't erase,
For while I walk behind the ronto, my dear,
I can only picture your face.

Side by side we will take a ride,
In my ronto-pulled buggy one day,
And when the daylight ends and the night descends,
And my ronto'll run out of hay,

I will kiss your lips, those tempting lips,
The only ones that can thrill me,
And I'll hold you tight 'neath the stars so bright,
If Sabe ever finds out she'll kill me.

Fluke bows

teh judges silently look at one another...

FLUKE: "uh... OK, one more... This here's a poem that personifies the Gungan spirit of determination, and their will for success:

*ahem*

They said that it could not be done,
but one Gungan said "Let me try."
They said, "Other Gungans have tried and failed,"
and he answered, "But not I."

They said, "It is impossible!"
He said, "There's no such word."
He closed his mind and his heart
to the negative he heard.

He said, "Within the heart of Gungans,
there is a tiny seed.
It grows until it blossoms,
it's called the will to succeed.

Its roots are strength, its stem is hope,
its petals inspiration,
Its thorns protect its strong green leaves,
its grim determination.

Its stamens are its skills
which help to shape each plan,
For there's nothing in the universe
beyond the scope of Gungan."

They thought that it could not be done,
some even said they knew it,
But then he faced what could not be done -
sure 'nuff, he couldn't do it."

Fluke bows

Starbucker Out

J.J.: Sit Down and Soak Up the Culture

All right…looks it was my turn to stand up (eh…on a stool, I guess) and recite this poem thing. I took a quick swig of ‘Jack’ and hobbled up to face the firing squad.

“Ah-hem….eh….this poem is about my home planet Tatooine. It’s in the 7/13th rhyme scheme of Coo-coo-ca-choo Tusken raider clan, heavily influenced by the 28th century Gammoran poet Obb Nox-uss.

Pallid, pure, somber and infrequent

Like little lifeless lemmings

learning

to die.


Sandy home burning like a scone

With forbidding toenails

rising

out of the desert

On clouds of cream filled donuts

and wasted chocolate centers.

Oh, the sticks of abatement

---Lyrical and fluctuating

In its myriad plebian con-fig-ur-a-tion.

Dewbacks selfishly hoard the jam

of yesteryears dreams

While Womprats listen to the enfeeblement

of the flies of discontentment

that ravage and bite



my eyes

**Glowing…always glowing**

With the turgid memories

Of multi-colored marionettes

Maimed and marked with the


sweet


lingering


memory


of Ronto droppings

Crisping under the suns

Ripening with satirical zest

Until attainment

and paroxysm

Are one

With the engrossing

Noxious

Melancholy

Of my






Armadillo.

I get off stage and beat a hasty retreat.

Padmé: Dark Side Rap

After Jar Jar gave us the challenge, the first thing I did was contact Anakin. He gave me this cool holo-emitter that I could, like, use in an emergency to contact him.

“Hey! ‘Sup flygirl?” He looked really happy to see me. “Whoa, you look hot!”

“Thanks baby! I really need your help. We have to, like, write a poem and perform it for the Gungan judges.”

“Yo, that’s whack.”

“TOTALLY. So can you like lay down a rap for me baby?”

“Yeah, I’ll send it over in a few minutes.”

“I love you baby!”

Then I went to get dressed. What a lot of the contestants don’t realize is that poetry is totally all in the performance. Well, maybe Jon gets the idea, but not many others.

Time spent on poem: 15 minutes.
Time spent getting dressed: 5 hours.

When my turn came, I got on stage in front of the judges and audience and performed my rap poem.



Green Riddle Monkey’s givin’ us a warnin’
Danger is comin’, maybe in the mornin’
The Emperor is too strong, says the Green One
But he don’t know the power of the Chosen One

Check it, he aint afraid of no dark side.
Check it, he aint afraid of no dark side.

Makin’ him a Jedi would be the right move
But Obi-Wan’s all hatin’, he can’t get in the groove
Jealousy and greed leads down a dark path
But if sumthin happens to his girl, you better watch his wrath

Check it, he aint afraid of no dark side.
Check it, he aint afraid of no dark side.

Everyone was silent, in awe of my rap. I bowed and left the stage.