Big Brother: Naboo

Oneida: Quite an Experience

2006-05-09T20:41:00.000-07:00

I stepped back into the house with a tentative step. Yes, I definitely had some good times here, but I also had some, well, I don’t want Fluke trying to feed me food again. I do miss most of the people that I lived here with, though I see some of them from time to time on Coruscant, which is nice. And yes, I would have liked to have won, but who wouldn’t have?

My favorite challenge was the one where we had to hide something. It was a fun one to come up with an item, a hiding place, and then try to get it hidden. I loved what some of the other people came up with in that challenge.

My least favorite was the shrubbery contest, and that was only because the power adapter on my computer died, leaving me with a dead computer filled with various shrubbery in a city far, far away from home. Oh well, I thought the challenge idea was neat (stoopid power adapter)

I had a wonderful time getting to interact with everyone. And now I think I will check out what’s on the grill and go chat with some people.

HELP !!!!

2006-05-05T18:28:00.000-07:00

Somebody Help, Im Gettin Double teamed in Here .

Where is JJ When I need Him !!!

HELP HELP HELP

ANYBODY !!!!

Padmé: Let's Party

2006-04-24T18:58:00.000-07:00

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...

Enjoyed it here !!

2006-04-20T15:24:00.000-07:00

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 !

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

2006-04-19T07:58:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-19T00:46:00.000-07:00

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.

Typho: Looking Back

2006-04-18T14:59:00.000-07:00

[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.

Jon: Smokin'

2006-04-17T10:32:00.000-07:00

(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!

Grievous: It's good to be back

2006-04-16T20:12:00.000-07:00

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.

And oursa winner issen...

2006-04-10T02:00:00.000-07:00

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

Der Final Reckonen

2006-04-06T02:30:00.000-07:00

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 mesa_jarjar_binks@hotmail.com (everyonesa, noah jussen contestants).

Starbucker: camera ham.

2006-04-05T14:00:00.000-07:00

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 little...as 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.

None.

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 Skywalker...you. 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...

"Ta-DA!"

Fluke bows

Typho: Past, Present and Future

2006-04-04T23:52:00.000-07:00

I was forced to confront my fears.

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?"

"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?"

"Uh..."

"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?"

"Yes?"

"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.

Starbucker: Typho's Challenge!

2006-03-31T11:08:00.000-08:00

hmmmmm... I pondered what to do... I didn't know much about this man... this Captain who was now the only person left standing between me and winning this, uh... well, this kinda wrecked-up house... and some other stuff...

What were his strengths?!? What were his weaknesses?!?

Where was his comfort zone?!? Where did he feel in his element?!?

Was he the one who would emerge the victor?!? Was he the one who would take second place?!? Was he the one who took my holy sock?!?

How could I feel good about the last challenge if I didn't know what to challenge him with?!? How could I win?!? How could Parcells possibly have allowed Jones to sign Owens?!?

These thoughts tormented me.

I knew I must pick the perfect challenge - for the fate of the ENTIRE BB:Naboo blog DEPENDED on it!!!!

I paced... I ate... I drank... but the idea for the challenge would not come to me.

At night I tossed... I turned... I clenched my toes into tight little fists until my feet cramped... but the idea for the challenge would not come...

I thought... and thought... and thought - until my thinker had thunked it's last. Or so I thought.

*nervously glances back and forth*

That's when I realized I was gripped with fear... yes FEAR!

Ah-HA! *forehead slap*

FEAR!!!!

MUahahauauahhahauau*cough*hahaha*wheeze*hahaha!

I hereby banish the good Captain Typho to face his fears. Fears from the past, present and future, as I had to, in the 11th challenge of Survivor: Tattooine, with JJ's three rings of fear!

Then, maybe I'll know what he's afraid of so I can then levy the most challenging challenge imaginable!

uh, no! wai- Oh, poo! I meant to do that! Yeah! Three fears, Teyepho!

You have until next Friday to complete the challenge!

Starbucker Out

Typho: Fluke's Challenge

2006-03-30T11:59:00.000-08:00

I issued a challenge to Fluke.

I gave a lot of thought to coming up with a challenge for Fluke. I didn't want to pick something too hard. That wouldn't be sporting. Besides, he was a cool roommate throughout our stay in this house.

But a challenge that was too easy would be... well, too easy.

I gave it a couple days and came up with the following. His task would be to act out a pivotal scene in any movie of his choice -- to put on a "one man show," if you will.

This should be fun. :D

Challengen #11

2006-03-27T20:56:00.000-08:00

Wesa aresa here.
Der final round.
Oursa contestants havesa builden droids, designen shrubberies, hagglen over antiques, craften sculptures, battlen pirates, written poetry, hidden household objects, harvesten lemonses, renovaten theirsa rooms, and cooken delicious meals to getten to thissen point. Wesa starten with twelve, now theresa aresa two.

Captain Typho, Fluke Starbucker, are yousa ready? Well, too bad, wesa starten now. Thissen will be a challenge like noah other...

Yousa mussen both setten challenges for each other, den completen der challenge yoursa opponent sets for yousa.

Der winner will be deciden purely by audience vote: if yousa maken yoursa challenge too hard, der audience mebbe tink yousa cheaten and noah voten for yousa. If yousa tryen hard and worken well, mebbe theysa will voten for yousa even if yousa noah completen der challenge.

Okeyday... lessen getten to it! Begin!

Jon: Time for me to fly

2006-03-27T03:39:00.000-08:00

I guess that's it. I competed as best as I could and I am very surprised that I got this far. Doubly so because I never received immunity for any of the challenges.

Thinking about it, I could probably have steered the votes my way. I am, after all, from Chicago, the place where cats and dogs vote and the dead get to vote twice. I am sure that I could have rigged the voting. It would have been easier than a magnet in a roulette wheel, but as that goes against my sense of fair play, it's off I go.

"I made it this far," I said whistfully while packing my bag. "So close..."

"Not bad for 'just an Earthman,'" Typho chuckled and offered me his hand. I shook his hand heartily and gave him one of those semi-macho half-hugs on the shoulder. "It was cool to see you here."

"Yeah, well, it was good seeing you again, too," I answered. "But I do miss my wife and kid. Have you seen Fluke?"

"No, not in the past hour or so," Typho answered. "He's around here, somewhere."

I looked around, up and down the halls, in the living room and kitchen, I walked through the dining room and poked my head into the other bedrooms. I didn't see him anywhere until I got to JJ's room. He was sitting on the simulated sand looking out at a simulated sunset.

"Whatcha doin' Flukester?" I asked.

"Aw, nuthin," he shrugged. I saw that he had a half-full bottle dangling from his hand.

"Is that a beer?"

"Nah," he replied absently. "It's a grape Nee'Hi. I sometimes drink these when I'm a little blue."

"Got another?"

"Nope," he shrugged.

"You know Fluke, it was great to visit here and I had a lot of fun seeing you again and all, but it really is time that I get going."

"Yeah..."

"This place isn't for me," I continued, pointing vaguely out at the ersatz sunset. "I really must be traveling on, now, 'Cause there's too many places I've got to see."

"Hmm," Fluke shrugged again.

"But, if I stayed here with you, Fluke, things just couldn't be the same. 'Cause I'm as free as a bird now, and this bird you can not change."

"Yeah, you're right," Fluke conceeded.

"Lord knows, I can't change," I grinned.

"Aw gimme a hug, ya old goobersmoocher," Fluke laughed and wrapped his arms around me.

I got up and walked out of the room. The hardest part was now upon me.

"Sniffy," I called. "Come here, girl."

Sniffy walked up to me slowly, her head hung really low.

"I'm sorry, girl," I gave Sniffy a big hug. "I just can't bring you back home. It would take, like, 8 years to get you through intergalactic customs."

The dog sniffed my ear sadly.

"Yeah, I know, I have to go, but I love you a lot, doggy. I'll stay here on Naboo until I can find a good home for you."

At that point, the doorbell rang. I reached to the knob, pulled it open, and saw two little dirty-faced tinkers.

"Please kind sir," said one. "Could you 'elp us out?"

"I am afraid that I don't have any shillings," I answered.

"No that's not it," said the other. "We've been watching you on the holovision."

"Ah," I chuckled. "And you want my autograph before I go, right?"

"No, sir," the first one replied. "Perhaps we could tell you our story."

"Sure."

"I'm Shroomer Twirl and this is my friend Savvy Swerver. We're orphans, sir."

"Orphans?" I replied, a bit surprised.

"Yes sir," said Savvy. "And Fine Ss'aik'ss, the headmaster of the Naboo Orphanage, would 'ave our 'eads if we don't get your dog."

"That doesn't seem reasonable at all," I answer. "He doesn't make you labor in a workhouse does he?"

"No no, he is a fine guardian," replied Shroomer. "'E sent us 'ere to get 'er as a pet, sir."

"What d'ya think, Sniffy?" I asked her. "You want to go with these boys?"

Sniffy woofed and leapt out the door at them. The two kids giggled an started chasing her around. That's really nice, I get to leave Sniffy here and they'll take good care of each other down at the orphanage.

Orphanage? Wait a minute.

"Say, boys," I called out. "You're not, er, planning on eating Sniffy or anything, are you?"

"Oh no sir," answered Savvy. "We're just gonna use 'er to fleece easy marks out of their 'ard-earned duckets, is all."

Der Final Two...

2006-03-27T01:46:00.000-08:00

Viewers, guests, tomorrow oursa final challenge will beginnen. Issen time to decide whosa will be goin into der last round. Captain Typho hassen earned hissen place in der finals by droid-building prowess, but whosa shall accompany himsa, and whosa will be voten off?

Der tenth person to be voten out of der Big Brother House issen...

Jon der Intergalactic Gladiator: Yousa aresa der weakest link. Goodbye!

Voten-Offen 10

2006-03-25T01:11:00.000-08:00

Okeyday, thissen issen itsa. In a few days, wesa will be down to oursa final twosa. Captain Typho hassen won himsaself a place in der finals with hissen bombad D.E.E.J.A.Y. unit, but Fluke Starbucker and Jon der Intergalactic Gladiator aresa noah so lucky - theysa gonna have to relyen on oursa viewers' approval. Only one of theesen contestants can go on to der final round... whosa itsa gonna be?

P.S. Will someone pleasy tellen Mister Vader mesa gonna fulfill mesa end of der bargain as soon as der show issen finished, so if hesa could noah kill mesa for a couple of weeks, thassen wouldsa be really great.

Challenge #10: Vader's Judgement

2006-03-24T10:09:00.000-08:00

One of the irritating things about being dead is that I do not have the kind of control I would ideally like to have for controlling my corporeal manifestations. At one moment I am all pimped out in my black armour, and the next moment I am helplessly alternating between a twisted and scarred old man and my boyish good looks.

Let me assure you: nothing can ruin a pleasant chat over cocktails like spontaneously flitting from twenty to forty, pretty to burned. I was once interrupted right in the middle of what I thought was a very moving speech about sensible galactic governance by this buzzing little Toydarian bitch who kept asking, "Where did your eyebrows go?"

Nevertheless, to business: I have called from oneness with the Force in order to judge this contest, at the behest of my partner in evil, Jar Jar Binks. Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Binks. I know we have had our differences over my compensation package, but I think you will agree that we have now struck an equitable bargain. I suggest you pray that I do not alter the deal further.

To begin I had all three robots join me on the back terrace.

The first to arrive was Captain Tycho's DEEJAY unit, whose mode of locomotion is a mix between a slow shuffle and a non-traditional mambo. The unit did not stop its frenetic jigging even when it stood before me, so I froze all of its limbs with a twitch of the Force.

"Stay," I commanded.

I had to admire the classic styling of the helmet, as well as the conservative white colour scheme of the track suit, which stood in stark contrast to the mishmash of competing design motifs demonstrated by Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator's UTEP-1 protocol unit, which was next to arrive. UTEP-1 shuddered to a halt and proceeded to make an irregular buzzing noise as it stood in place.

"Stop making that noise," I instructed, to which the droid cryptically replied:

"My hovercraft is full of eels."

Finally we were joined by Fluke Starbucker's untitled chess-playing femmebot (UCPF) unit, which spun in and screeched to a halt, the vapour of burning rubber casting off her four wheels in a languid plume. "I am ready to serve you, Lord Vader," said the UCPF with excellent voice modulation and a flick of her purple tresses.

I started the evaluation with a simple interview.

"What is your function?"

"I lay down the tracks to bring funkiness to the max," reported DEEJAY.

"I am fluent in over six forms of communication," claimed UTEP-1.

"I run fast and hot," said the UCPF.

Next, for the purposes of benchmarking I had each of the droids run through a battery of standardized tests, including stacking heavy stones into a neat pile, solving a Hardy Boys mystery without reading the last chapter, and applying a sixty-four pixel Gaussian blur to a high-resolution image in Adobe Photoshop.

To explore their capacity for understanding the nuances of personality and behaviour I ordered the droids to each do an impression for me. DEEJAY did a reasonably credible if less than creative interpretation of a turntable, UTEP-1 imitated one of the statues outside of the Coruscant Legislature, and the UCPF did a more than fair portrayal of an X-34 Landspeeder complete with whining engines and sporty decals.

In the drama section of my testing the droids opted to recreate a historic scene in galactic politics together. After a few moments of consultation they trotted out and re-enacted the call for a no confidence vote in Valorum's leadership, with the UCPF playing the role of Queen Amidala, UTEP-1 playing Senator Palpatine, and DEEJAY lurching about with the two of them balanced on his back as he acted like a hovering podium.

"I have come befo you to resolve this attack on our sovereignty nouw," quoth UCPF, holding her head in an artificially static pose.

"Maintenant ils eliront un nouveau chancelier. Un chancelier fort. Un qui ne laissera pas cette tragedie continuer," promised UTEP-1 darkly.

"Ooooo-ooooo-ooooooo," hummed DEEJAY, bobbing up and down.

I had the droids fight each other, gladiator-style, as a test of their combat muscle, but we encountered an unexpected delay when UTEP-1 fell apart into about three dozen pieces upon first being struck by DEEJAY's funky hip-check. There was no one to view this except as a sign of sloppy construction. Upon further examination of the wreckage I was able to determine that an inferior brand of solder had been used on some of the components.

"Can we get a Wookiee in here to put this trash-heap back together?" I called.

"Buenos dias!" chimed the head of UTEP-1, rolling down the terrace steps.

When UTEP-1 was reassembled we began to final test: who had the best screen refresh rates for processor-intensive first-person-shooter gaming? DEEJAY scored very high on this test because of the integrated TFT screen behind his chest-plate, designed for displaying iTunes-style trippy graphics during performances. UTEP-1 lacked any kind of display mechanism but demonstrated a willingness (if not any great ability) to "act out" the first-person-shooter scenario. I am slightly abashed to report that the UCPF unit housed her display in an unmentionable place.

I then retired to my hyperbaric chamber to tabulate the scores and smoke a death-stick.

Afterward I recorporated in the livingroom and handed out my judgements, pleased to find myself appearing once again my black armour (though for some annoying reason my left leg remained fleshy, naked and youthful in undignified contrast). I limped awkwardly before the assembled droids, my hands clasped behind my back.

"I will now deliver my final judgement, and you will report back to your makers," I said.

"Cool, man," said DEEJAY.

"Ja," nodded UTEP-1.

"Anything you say, my Lord," replied the UCPF. "And I do mean anything."

Briefly I turned into a withered old man and then back again. I cleared my throat, my breathing natural and then electronic with alternate breaths. "The second place winner is Fluke Starbucker's Untitled Chess-Playing Femmebot."

The UCPF unit squealed and then drove around in excited circles until I stopped her using the Force. UTEP-1 and DEEJAY exchanged anxious glances.

"The first place winner is -- Captain Typho's DEEJAY. Better luck next time, Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator. Thank you for playing."

DEEJAY hugged UCPF and both hooted for joy. UTEP-1's shoulders sagged. "Oh God I'm so depressed," he said. "Here I am brain the size of a planet and I couldn't even win the challenge."

"That is the first intelligible thing you have said," I pointed out.

"Who cares?" grumbled UTEP-1, shuffling slowly away.

"It almost breaks your heart, doesn't it?" commented DEEJAY sadly.

"No," I said.

The droids left me, and I dissolved into the non-substance that fills time between the seconds. My covenent with you is fulfilled, Jar Jar -- I am released to the void, to commune with the Force, and to drink cheap wine and shoot my television when it offends me.

May the Force be will you all.

Starbucker: uh, so... do we get to keep 'em?

2006-03-24T07:01:00.000-08:00

Oh, man! A droid building contest! I can handle this!

I knew just the thing to build, I immediately cut a piece of 2x4 wall stud out of the hallway with my lightsabre and began working...

Lightsabres are awesome tools for almost any kind of work imaginable...

... within just a few minutes, I was done!

I immediately ran over to Jon, giddy as a schoolgirl.

Uh, he was - not me.

Anyhoo, I proudly displayed my toil...

FLUKE: "Ta-DA!"

Jon looked at me quizzically, "what is that?..."

FLUKE: "Well, DUH! It's a racing droid!"

JON: "really."

FLUKE: "yeah, check it..."

I then ran up the stairs, set it down on the bannister, gave it a little nudge, and darted down the steps... sure enough, it beat me down...

FLUKE: "See? beat that!"

JON: "Well, that's pretty nifty, but I don't think that can be considered a droid. I mean, it didn't power itself, or compute anything, or served much purpose... it just relied on you and gravity for propulsion. I mean, heck - my Offical Jr. Intergalactic Gladiator buttons can do that."

...

Oh! What a crushing blow! Dismayed, but not defeated, and having plenty of time left, I began piecing circuitry together, while thinking of what I had seen around the house that could be used for an adequate host/case, but then I realized - I had not even considered what I wanted my droid to do.

Then it hit me... 'chess'! I could build a droid to play chess that would even rival JJ's magnificent game! I still don't know how he pulled off that win the other day...*grumble grumble*

...

Ok, once the chess playing circuitry was complete, I had to find something adequate to not only hold it, but be able to move and function as a chess player should.

While searching, I kinda wandered off to a room I had not been before when I came across a big box, with "real" something stamped across it. I opened it up and, WOW! It was a weird thing, but it should do nicely... I started hauling the box back to my work area.

JACK: "Hey, Mr. Starbucker, sir. That's Dave's."

FLUKE: "Huh?... Who?"

JACK: "Dave. The cameraman that yo.. he, uh... had that accident."

FLUKE: "Well, I'll buy him a new one later, right now I need it for this challenge."

JACK: "But, you can't just assume, er, you can't just take..."

FLUKE: "Listen, Jar Jar said I could use anything I found in the house."

JACK: "But, I ...uh"

FLUKE: "Will you be the one stopping me?"

JACK: "Well... no, sir."

FLUKE: "Then, outta the way, peck! Time's a wasting!"

...

Oh, man, as I began installing the circuitry, I realized I could tweak a few things, and add some wheels, and stil have a racer... and could give her some serious dexterity, so she could go make a sammich, or fetch a beer, or mix a complex drink... all while I sit and contemplate my next move over the chess board...
...she could even pole dance!
While adding this host of enhancements...

...I began to realize...

... I never before had seen...

a droid so...

so...
anatomically
correct before!

I finished her up and tested her out some, and had some time left, so I tricked her out a tad - headlights, running lights, chrome tailpipe... the works!

Man, I hope that judge with the funky blast helmet likes her...

...and I really hope I get to keep her afterwards!

Hmmm... What should I call her?

Starbucker Out

Typho: That's Entertainment

2006-03-23T20:47:00.000-08:00

A droid making competition? Well, that's not weird like some of the other tasks we've done lately...

I came up with an idea for my droid pretty quickly and I raided some other people's stuff to get the components I needed.

A warm up suit from JJ's room:

A pair of sneakers from Yoda's room:

A storm trooper helmet from the girls' room. Hey, what was that doing there anyway?

And some 12" singles from one of my roommates. I'm not sure if these belong to Fluke or Jon:

The guts of my droid came from various appliances and wiring around the house. I couldn't help be notice how we've been systematically tearing this place apart with each passing week. Let's just say that whoever finally wins this game will need to shell out some serious bucks for renovation.

This is my droid. I call him D.E.E.J.AY. -- Digital Electronic Entertainer Juiced for Active Youths:

It's not the most useful thing, but I might actually keep it.

Jon: Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto

2006-03-23T12:52:00.000-08:00

Well, I have to admit building robots just isn’t my expertise. I sometimes get flack for being “just an Earthman” and it really chaps my hide. I know I don’t know how to make a warp bubble or build a transflux gentrifier, and I am definitely more comfortable fighting pirates or killer androids or something. But answer me this? How many engineers are there in this galaxy who could actually build a droid themselves? Very few, I’m certain.

So I am definitely not a rocket surgeon, but I do have an ace up my sleeve – or strapped to my sleeve as it were.

Using my Wristcomm (and you wouldn’t believe how happy I am that I brought this. It seems like it’s come in handy on almost every challenge), I called my ship and activated the ERD-21 Emergency Repair Droid. Of course, it would never pass off as a scratch-built robot, but he can help me make one.

The droid floated through the window and beeped to announce its arrival.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” I said. “I need your help to build a droid.”

[beep beep beep beep]

“Well, I know that’s not part of your programming. You’re not doing anything right now, so you might as well help.”

[beep beep beep beep be-beep]

“What do you mean you don’t want to?”

[beep du beep beep beep]

“You know what? Just give me a hand, OK? It’s not a big deal.”

[Bidibidibidi]

“I’m a what?”

[Bidibidibidi]

“Oh really?”

[beep beep]

“You know, I understand that the ERD-52’s are great machines. From all of those sales brochures that I’ve seen, they don’t sass-talk their owners or anything.”

[BEEP BWEEP]

“See, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”

And with that, ERD-21 and I began pulling stuff that we though we could use for the robot. Though JJ got most of the good stuff for his I-SUC, I figured we could pull some of the computer equipment from the room and maybe raid the jawa’s room for anything left over.

Hours later, we got something put together, utilizing an old robot shell, a lot of spare parts and a pair of High-Tec boots. I figured my best chance would be to make a protocol droid and dubbed him Universal Translator Etiquette and Protocol 1, or UTEP 1, for short. I switched him on and he hummed to life. Time to test him out.

“UTEP 1, Ich will Sie lieben,” I said.

“I want to kiss your cat,” it answered.

“Hmmm, close, but not quite. I’ll try another. Votre diode semble jolie ce soir.”

“The bass is exquisite tonight, garcon,” UTEP answered.

This thing just isn’t getting the translations right, I thought. I’ll try one more.

“Ouldcay ouyay easeplay anslatetray isthay ithoutway ewingscray
itway upway?” I asked.

“Could you please punch me in the nose, jerky?” UTEP translated.

Man, this thing is way off. It looks OK for a robot, though. The judge may be an evil Sith Lord, but I don’t think that he’s a linguist, so I hope this thing’ll work.

At that point, Sniffy the Dog walked up to the new droid, gave a few sniffs and woofed.

“Hey, buckethead,” UTEP said. “Pet me.”

Challengen #10

2006-03-21T21:26:00.000-08:00

Jar Jar: Okeyday, contestants, thissen issen oursa penumul- pentamul- oursa second-to-last challenge. Three of yousa will comen in, only two will comen out again... Yoursa challenge issen: to builden a fully-functioning droid.
Yousa can maken a droid for any purpose - a protocol droid, an astromech, a kitchen wizard, whatsaeversa. However, yousa can only usen items yousa can finden inside der Big Brother House. Yousa haven six hours.
Der producers tellen mesa dat oursa final guest judge issen someone with loads of talent for builden droids. Yoursa judge issen... *Jar Jar takes an envelope out of his robes and opens it* Ani?

*Heavy breathing from offstage* Not quite...

Jon: Sniffy watched Ranae pack

2006-03-21T20:05:00.000-08:00

She hung her head just a bit. People always say that animals can tell when something's going on. Ranae packed her bags, carefully placing some of the items just right.

If a dog could remember, right now Sniffy would be thinking about all the times Ranae scratched her in just the right spot behind the ear, the times she rubbed Sniffy's belly, the time she tossed a little bit of that scurrierburger from the barbecue and Sniffy leapt up and caught it.

Ranae walked up and gave Jon a quick hug, then another one to Fluke. She gave a third, lingering hug to Typho.

With a heavy sigh, she walked out the front door.

Sniffy watched from the window.

And den theresa were three...

2006-03-20T22:55:00.000-08:00

Okeyday, der results for oursa shrubbery challenge aresa in, and der ninth person to be voten off of Big Brother: Naboo issen...

Lieutenant-Commander Oneida. Mesa sorry, but yousa aresa noah getten further dan thissen.

2006-03-19T20:51:00.000-08:00

Okeyday, mesa sorry for der delay, but one of der Jedi Knights Whosa Say "Ni!" slipped Lt. Cmdr. Oneida a hallucinogenic drug during der challenge and... yeah. Theysa were forced to leave without theirsa shrubberies, though, so theysa payen der price. Useless little... mesa hired themsa to *judge* the contest... *grumble*

Anyway, hersa issen der poll for yousa to vote whosa gonna leaven der Big Brother House thissen week.

Qui-Gon : Ni!

2006-03-19T08:20:00.000-08:00

Oh... Huh huh, I have to judge this thing or we can't, like, go on, can we, man?
Well, all right, here we go.
Oh, man, I don't feel right doing this. You all worked really hard and, like, I want to be fair and, like, nice.
But, like, nice doesn't win you the bread in this gig, does it?
On to the judging.
Jon, man, you're cool. But, like, I want you to know that... I don't really like the Banana Phone song. The soundtrack that plays while I'm having a bad trip is the repeating rings and that one bloody goober saying Banana Phone like he's really into the song. So, your Banana Phone Shrub (which is more of a miniaturised tree or bonsai style presentation as opposed to a standard shrubbery), is impressive, but not not terrifying enough.
Typho, wow. You just, wow... With the bear and the hand... That hand was really far out. It looked something out of one of M.C. Escher's works, though no giant pen in hand. The Gungan head looked a bit like a K'lfornja Raasen though.
Oneida, dear. I wanted to give you time to show your work, as like, I totally understand losing time due to poppies, man.
Uh... Thing is, Typho and Oneida... As a Knight of Ni (Ni Wally!), *sigh* um, I have a bit of an issue... With, um, rabbits. I was a spy for the Ni (Ni Fatoomch!) and I happened upon the silly Arthur King and his silly silly men, like, in the den of Fwuffers, the Rabbit Guardian of the Sith and of Evil and Bad Times and Not Good Moments of Your Day.
Those cute bunny topiary pieces... They uh, make me think of Gawain... Like, dear, sweet, nice, over-make-up-ed, naive, Gawain. Beheaded by the fluffy daemon! ...Big pointy teeth... Lunging and... The blood, oh Graham, the horror! All five, uh, three that were killed that day...
But Fluke! You have captured my love of whipping stuff in a single shrubbery garden! Proving we are not men... We are um, pioneers who got scalped... But, uh, wow, really nice scalps. But, uh, did I really have to pay for parking and the admission fee to get in?
So, right, Fluke wins...
Now I need to go change my armour.

Oneida: Oh My, Look At The Time

2006-03-18T23:58:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I totally have a good reason I’m late, really late, holy crap why-bother-posting late. I pondered this challenge, gave it deep and profound thought. While I sat outside in thought, I heard a rustling coming from one of the slightly more untamed areas of the yard. Thinking it a bird, I paid no heed to it. But then it giggled, so I went to go investigate. I peered through a break in the bushes, then walked into the pleasant little wilderness. I let my hand pass lightly over the smooth exterior of the trees that grew in the copse. Suddenly I felt like I was experiencing vertigo, everything began to spin. I shut my eyes tightly, and when I opened them again, I was no longer in the garden.

I was in the land of the shrubbery people. No kidding, seriously, part human, part shrub. See, I have pictures of said folk They were very friendly, and showed me all around their realm. After a day in their land, I bid them farewell and returned the same way I came. And then realized it was midnight Saturday in my land. D’oh.

well, Blogger let me post one more picture, so now you know I'm not making this up.

Yeah, so I’ll go pack, but I did bring you back something, Master Qui-Gon. Hope you like it.

Qui-Gon : Salad Days

2006-03-18T21:41:00.000-08:00

Wow. Totally wow. This brings me back to something I'd forgotten a long time ago.
Those zany wacky Knights and me.
Right. Well, after my stint as Quiggy Starlust, I needed to lose myself. And for good reason. Did you ever actually see me as Quiggy? I mean, yes, I was one of three Jedi who could spar not only blindfolded, but in 3 inch stilettos (and I still have blackmail on the other two). But, like, seriously, what good does that skill do you when you are supposed to be living the boring chaste life of a Jedi?
But yeah, I think that... Um... Yes, right, train of thought derailed. No survivors.
Like, yeah. So, I was knighted, going on all these solo missions, trying to wean myself off the steady diet of ridiculous decadence that I was sustaining myself on. 200 green EMpire-M's in a shoe. What a nutritious dinner. Wow. Jurberry muffins with gold flecks in them. For some reason, I wanted to eat gold. And ate gold I did, man. Irrational exuberance.
I digress at, like, great length.
What was I trying to say? Something about Knights? Of Ni! Right!
I had toured in their part of the galaxy, In'Glend. I'd hit everywhere around there. Wembley, Brixton, Gummy Simon's Fish'n'Chips. Then came Die Landen wik Ni Peng Icky Icky Fatang Zoom Boingen, or simply, the Land of Ni. Totally surreal, man. The landscape was all these large 2-D pictures that looked to be cropped from magazines and adverts. At the time, they were a sight to be seen, but the likes of today, the effects are, like, seriously dated. There were flying hand birds and hand trees. I was lucky to have missed the Killer Cars.
Long story long still, I had toured there and when I needed to lose Quiggy but quick, man, I went there.
They were eclectic to say the least. More like stake raving mad, but...
Right, so, They didn't make me denounce my Jedi ways, I just had to, like, adapt to their culture. Steady diet of Spam. Exercise regiment with the Silly Walks training. Lack of outside contact as the radio had exploded. A dead parrot in every birdhouse and a Lumberjack headlining every cross-dressing karaoke night at the pub. Every man and his brother had a tape recorder up his nose. Half-a-bees called Eric were all from the same menagerie. There were loads of socials and Fish-Slapping Dances. Like, the lands were safe, as the holy hand-grenades had killed off all of the bunnies.
All was good...
Until...
Some fool Arthur King came through. He was all right, but he was known for insulting peasants and leaving the local Black Knight with flesh wounds.
He denied us our second shrubbery!
He denied us our tree chopped down with a herring!
But mostly he said the word that we Knights Who So Formerly Said Ni could say, let alone hear.
He bested us with but a word.
And, like, I got to thinking. A bloody word. These renowned Knights falling because of a little word. I was, like, a Jedi, man. Jedi don't get trumped by a word, unless that word is followed by a double-bladed lightsabre.
So, right. I handed over my horns and my smelly cloak of stench and got off the mailing list.
And, like, that is how I learned that new Krelm Toothpaste, with the Miracle Ingredient, Fraudulin, was better than the not white car.
Uh...
I, um... I was going somewhere with this, man.
Judging! Right! I'm ready to judge this thing. I am stoked to see that everyone has taken interest into the keeping and manipulation of topiary gardens. Plants are, like, seriously good, man.
I'm just wondering why everyone is looking at me, like, I'm a jerk or something.
Well, like, let's get on with it!
ACK! I've said it! Nooo! I've said it again! The word that I cannot hear! Aaagh!

Starbucker: Shrubber for hire

2006-03-16T14:08:00.000-08:00

Why do they say 'Ni', anyway? There are far better words... like kumquat... why aren't they the Jedi Knights who say,'Kumquat'? That's what I would be.

JON: "Hey, Fluke, this is kind of a silly challenge... what are you gonna do?"

FLUKE: "Kumquat!"

JON: "Oooooo-kay."

While I wasn't actually certain just what I was gonna do, Jon happened to catch me at just the right time.

Immediately, I began pacing back and forth... wondering what to do... then, as if the FGotFotNJOw herself heard my mental pleas, I slipped on a banana peel and bonked my noggin on the corner of the coffee table. As I lay there on the floor, maybe bleeding to death, I had a vision... Five men... possibly soldiers from the future were concentrating on something on the ceiling - staring off into the corner over there... but then, the one closest to me looked me in the eye, and without speaking a word, told me what I had to do...

I had to make an area of cone shrubs!... but where?

I immediately hopped up and ran outside. I chose the area out back.

And brought in a dozen (or so) shrubs that I quickly shaped into cones, but durn it! It turns out they were unionized, and my shaping them infringed up upon their 'rights', so they began picketing me and chanting things like "Say NO to Poodle Do!", and "We want Pruners, not a buncha Groomers!"

Knowing what restless shrubberies like... I quickly calmed them down and was able to ease them into submission with a trusty FotNJOw hooka peace pipe.

At that point, the shrubs began dancing around in a circle... and I had an epiphany - and it didn't even hurt! I thought... 'there must be some way to take advantage of these shrubs beyond simply entering them into a contest!' Quickly I channeled JJ's supreme entrepreneurial skillz, and decided to sell tickets to...

Flukizmo's Magical Shrub Ride!

Now to sit back, and let the bank account swell up! Cha-ching!

Starbucker Out

Typho: Topiary Madness

2006-03-15T21:08:00.000-08:00

I've gotten so used to the wacky nature of Jar Jar's challenges that I didn't waste any time contemplating why a bunch of Jedi would say "Ni" or why they felt they needed plant sculptures.

You want it, you got it!

I decided to keep it simple and craft some regular bushes into (hopefully) interesting shapes.

I started by trimming some hedges into what was supposed to be reminiscent of a Gungan monument, but it was a little off:

Next I tried for something cutesy -- a teddy bear. Aww!

A bunny:

A giant hand:

I finished up with a trio of musicians. I think I saw something like this on one of Qui-Gon's old albums.

Or maybe not.

Jon: Shrubs R Us

2006-03-15T03:39:00.000-08:00

The challenge was to put together a nice shrubbery, and in an hour. I wasn't sure what to do. Sitting and relaxing isn't normally my style, but maybe if I take a moment to think about it, I might be able to come up with something. This couch is comfortable, I can just sit... for... a.... Zzzzzz....

(cue wavy lines)

“Hey buddy boy-o-rino,” came a voice. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake uuuuuuuup!”

“Huh? What?”

“I said ‘hey buddy boy-o-rino,’” said the voice. “‘Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake uuuuuuuup!’”

“Oh my—” I rubbed my eyes, looked at what was in front of me, then rubbed my eyes again. “Jo Jo… Is that you?”

“In the flesh,” the ghost of Jo Jo the Monkeyboy materialized in front of me. “Or, at least the ghostly equivalent of flesh, ha ha! Howya doin’ be-wauuuuuuuuuu-thhhhhh?”

I’ve seen those movies where ghosts terrify people. They hurl objects, they cause walls to bleed, they haunt TV’s, possess victims, and all other sorts of scary things. Seeing Jo Jo was more horrifying by far.

“What… are you doing here?”

“Oh that’s easy,” answered the (alleged) comedy relief specter. “Qui-Gon’s judging this challenge, and who knows Quiggy more than I-iggy?”

“Uh, his best chum JJ? His former padawan Obi Wan? His former master Yoda?”

“Gone, gone, gone, daddy, gone,” Jo Jo's ghostly mouth cranked up into a ghastly grin. “That leaves me, chummmmmm.”

“OK,” I answered. “So what’s the plan?”

“Oh, that’s easy, Chester. What do you think my main mucho mystic mango likes most of all?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “A bonsai tree?”

“Nope.”

“A tree that grows brownies?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Something with five-sided leaves that grows under black lights?”

“No, no, no,” Jo Jo shook his head spastically. “See, you need my help-ully-elp, and I’m gonna give it to you but good, daddy-O.”

“So what is it, then?” I asked exasperatedly.

“Guess!”

“No!”

“Come on.”

“Argh, I said no,” I howled. “I already guessed. Just tell me.”

“Don’t be such a sourpuss, stick-in-the-mud, fussbudget, fusspot, old farrrr-fig-nougat,” he chortled maniacally. “I said that I was here to help, Chuckles.”

I rubbed my face and sighed heavily.

“OK,” I said. “Just lemme have it. Give it to me.”

“Oh this is no fun,” the spook pouted. “Come on, Chumbawumba, make it fun.”

“Alright, alright,” I rolled my eyes. “What is it, buddy boy joy goy troy, uh, rocco taco Morocco?”

“There you go,” he hopped up and down. “Was that so tough?”

“Jo Jo.”

“OK, OK, OK. Qui-Gonny loves bananaphones! Make him a bananaphone tree!”

(Cue wavy lines)

Wow, what an unusual dream.

Or was it?

Challengen #9

2006-03-13T00:27:00.000-08:00

Jar Jar: Mesa issen proud to introducen… der Jedi Knights whosa say “Ni!”

Jedi Knights Who Say Ni: Ni!
Typho: You have *got* to be joking…
Jar Jar: Der Jedi Knights whosa say “Ni!” will be helpen to administraten yoursa challenge with theirsa formidible botanical skills.
Oneida: So, what is our challenge?

One of the Knights steps forward.

Master Mical P’lin: You must design for us… a shrubbery!

The contestants all gasp.

Fluke: Wait… why are we gasping?

Another of the Knights steps forward.

Master Jo’n Clees: And then, we want you to cut down the tallest tree in the forest with an Opee Sea Killer!

A third Knight interjects from behind.

Master Eirik Iddel: How can they cut down the tree if they can’t leave the house?
Master Jo’n Clees: Good point… okay, forget the tree. But you’d better make bloody good shrubberies.
Typho: So, will you six be judging the challenge?

The Jedi Knights Who Say “Ni!” huddle and confer.

Master Mical P’lin: We, the Jedi Knights Who Say “Ni!” have decided *not* to grant your request. But we will take your shrubberies when they are finished.
Jar Jar: Holden itsa, holden itsa-
Jedi Knights Who Say Ni: ARGH!!!
Jar Jar: Er... okeyday... whackos... issen lucky mesa haven a backup judge, then. Yoursa judge for thissen round of Big Brother: Naboo will be Qui-Gon Jinn.

Der terms of yoursa challenge: yousa can collecten some plants from der Jedi Knights Whosa Say “Ni!”. Theysa will noah chargen yousa for der plants, and theysa haven a wide selection to choosen from. Yousa can usen items from around der house in yoursa shrubbery, but yousa mussen includen plants as yoursa centrepiece. Yousa haven one hour. Begin!

J.J.: Adios Amigos!

2006-03-12T08:47:00.000-08:00

J.J. packs the last of his robes in a suitcase, and then carefully places the picture that Noel took of all the Big Brother contestants on top before closing it up. He closes his eyes and takes a big breath, savoring the holo-smell of sea salt and ocean breezes. He opens his little glowing eyes and scans the horizon: the waving palm trees, the bright sand, the crystal blue ocean, even the makeshift tiki-bar. He nods his head and smiles.

J.J.’s I-SUC droid wheels his way up to him, carrying one lone wooden crate.

I-SUC: Is that everything, sir?

For a brief moment, J.J. is lost in his thoughts, going over the last two months of his stay in this house. The lemon tree challenge…the drinking…the poetry…the drinking…the pirate attack…the drinking…

J.J.: Hmmm? Oh, yeah. We’re ready. I was just thinking of all the good times I had here.

J.J. then pulls out a cigar and lights it up.

J.J.: Ya know, SUC-man, I really enjoyed myself. I didn’t think I would when I signed on but I did. I enjoyed hanging out with everyone. Even Jaba…even though he used to beat me up after school for my lunch money way back on Tatooine.

I-SUC: But you didn’t win, sir. You didn’t even make it to the final four?

J.J.: oh, that’s all right. I came one short. And being a jawa, we always come up one short. …get it?

I-SUC: Unfortunately yes. Can I just stay here and hope the pirates return to destroy my circuits?

J.J.: Aww, come on I-SUC, We’re going home now. I’m taking you to a grand high rise apartment in Coruscant. You’ll love it there. You’ll love my roomie too. He’s a force ghost Jedi Knight. Knowing him, he’s been having the time of his life while I’ve been away.

I-SUC: So…he’s dead?

J.J.: In a way.

I-SUC: Do you think he can give me pointers?

J.J. sighs and shakes his head ever so slightly. He grabs his suitcase and opens the door to his holo-room.

J.J.: We’ll see. Come on, SUCy, I need you to deliver that crate in front of their room before they wake up.

I-SUC: Aren’t you going to say goodbye to them, sir?

J.J.: Naw. I ain’t good with goodbyes. That’s why I'm giving them this crate and note and stepping out before they all wake up.

I-SUC: What’s in the crate?

J.J.: It’s the last of the booze in my room. I figure the four of them could use it better then me. The note simply says “Congratulations, Jon, Typho, Oneida and Fluke for reaching the final four. I'm very glad it came down to you guys. You four are awesome in every respect. You’re all winners in my book. Here’s the last of my alcohol. I’m sure you guys will know how to polish it off. Have a drink on me. If any of you ever find yourselves in Coruscant after this game, you know you always have a place to stay with me and Qui.
Have fun. That’s what it’s all about. -J.J.”

The jawa then turns to his I-SUC droid carefully setting the crate next to the other contestant’s bedroom.

J.J.: Come on. We got to go now.

I-SUC: Are you sure you got everything?

J.J. pauses a moment and thinks. He finally shrugs his shoulders and walks out the Big Brother House with I-SUC right beside him.

J.J.: I think so. Anyway, If I did forget anything, I’m sure the others can take care of it. Come on, SUC-man, Our adventures have just begun.

Epilogue:

Deep inside the tropical holo-room, the sound of an occasional ocean wave lapping on shore is the only noise to break the calming silence. The artificial heat radiating sun blazes low on the horizon casting cooling shadows underneath the palm trees.

A few monkeys suddenly scurry down the trees. The monkeys left over when Obi-Wan still resided in this very room. After a few moments, even more monkeys hop their way across the hot sand or down other palm trees to gather in a cool spot in the center of the holo-room.

One of the monkeys steps into the center of the crowd, lighting a cigarette and surveying his brethren. He nods with satisfaction at what he sees.

“Good. Very good. We are finally alone now. I thought that damn jawa would never leave. Now it is time to put our plans into action. Guido! Are your troops ready?

Guido cocks his gun. “Yes sir. All my men are armed and ready!”

“Good….good. Have everyone assembled at the door and prepared to move on my command. When the time is right…we strike! Not just this house…not just this planet…but the whole system will fall to our demands!!! Very soon…the universe will be ours!!!”

The gun totting simians raise their arms in undulating cries.

“VIVA LA REVOLUTION!!! VIVA LA REVOLUTION!!! VIVA LA REVOLUTION!!!!”

(the end…?)

Voten-Offen Number Eight

2006-03-12T00:46:00.000-08:00

Yousa five hassen holden out well, but issen time for another "guest" to be voten out of der Big Brother House. Today, oursa loser issen...

Jawajuice. Mesa sorry, JJ, but yousa are outta heresa.

Dooku: My, my, what have we here...?

2006-03-11T01:23:00.000-08:00

Let's see what you've got, chaps...

(1) Lt. Commander Oneida

Dooku: So, what have we here, dearie?
*Onedia presents the Sith holocron*
Dooku: Mmm...my dear, do you know what you have here?
Onedia: ...well...
Dooku: This...this is a holocron!
Onedia: ...yes...
Dooku: Marvellous! I haven't seen one of these in years...let's take a look, shall we...?
Onedia: ...uh...
*Dooku concentrates, and a robed figure appears above the examination bench*
Holocron: I am Darth Bane, Sith Master.
Dooku: Darth Bane! A truly spiffing Sith Lord, if there ever was one.
Holocron: Use this to....*static*
*Oneida cringes*
Holocron: Check it, this is Ping Zorda, and I’m going to spare you some messed up [beep] from Darth Spanky Mc[beep]weasel there.
Dooku: ...
Oneida: Uh...
Dooku: ...
Oneida: ...look, I can explain -
*Dooku pockets the holocron, and stands*
Dooku: I've always wanted to be able to sing in Togarian.
*he moves to the next bench*
Oneida: ...well...that was odd.

(2) Jawajuice

*Dooku arrives at J.Js bench and sits down, picking up the shining gold jewellery*
Dooku: So...what have we here, old boy?
J.J: They're...gold. Yeah. Definately gold. Not an obscure human body part. Nope.
Dooku: I see.
*he raises the necklace to his monocle, examining it under the light*
Dooku: ...my, my.
J.J: What?
Dooku: My dear chap...this is pure 8 carot human gallstone!
J.J: ...oh, is it?
Dooky: It is! Don't you know what this means?
J.J: Well...no.
Dooku: Gallstones are considered to have magical properties amongst many of the Geonosian tribes...absolute tripe, of course, but worth a sizeable amount none the less...
*he pockets the jewellery, then stands and leaves*
J.J: ....phew.

(3) Jon

*Dooku sits, then picks up the 'space combat simulator'*
Jon: Do ya like it? Do ya?
Dooku: My word...I haven't seen one of these in years...
*He picks up a few battleship markers, and places them on the board*
Dooku: B7. Miss!
*He laughs*
Jon: .....riiiighht.
Dooku: Now, what's this...?
*He picks up the tea set*
Jon: Well, it's a tea set from -
Dooku: Tea! How delightful! How about we share some tea right now, with this fine set of antiquitated goods...
*he bustles off to fetch his ever-ready supply of tea ingrediants, before being intercepted by Jar Jar and herded to the next table*
Jon: But you didn't even look at my...

(4) Captain Typho

*Dooku sits down, and turns to Typho*
Dooku: So, what do you have for me, old boy?
*Typho sets the 3 McDookus Happy Meal toys on the tabletop*
Dooku: ...I say! An absolutley spiffing display, eh what?
Typho: ...yeah.
*Dooku gazes at the figurines for some minutes, before standing and moving to the next table*
Typho: Hmm.

(5) Fluke Starbucker

*Dooku sits, only to be confronted with many a pile old buttons, keys, spoons, and an accordian.
Dooku: ...well, it's certainly old.
Fluke: Yeah, they're antiques, right! Y'know, old stuff.
Dooku: *picks up the accordian* What is this delightful object?
Fluke: It's...ummmm...a toaster.
Dooku: I see.
*he stands, pocketing the spoons*
Fluke (under his breath): Goobersmoocher.

I make my way to the lecturn where Jar Jar stands, microphone in hand, awaiting my announcement. I stop, and look around the compeditors for a minute.

Oneida, with that delightful holocron.
Jawajuice, tribal pendant and all.
Jon, tea set laid out.
Typho, toys at the ready.
Fluke, with...who knows what?

I smile, and make my decision.

And the winner is....

Captain Typho!

Now, chaps, you must vote for the next one to leave. A tough decision, to be sure....

Jon: Zzzzzzzzz

2006-03-10T13:01:00.000-08:00

.....Silence....

"Zzzzzzzzzzzz..."

"Heee hee hee hee hee!"

"Zzzzzzz...."

"Heh heh haw haw! Ha ha ha!"

"Zzzzzz....nxx... Huh...?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"Fluke! Are you reading that comic again?"

"Heh heh heh heh heh... uh, what comic, Jon?"

"That Hammerhead comic. You've barely put that thing down since I bought it."

"I can't help it, it's soooo funny. Did you read the story where Hammerhead has too many scurrierburgers and bluemilkshakes and his belly is cartoonishly distended?"

"Uh, yeah, Fluke, I have. I think they do that bit every issue."

"Well, they should. It's comedy gold!"

"Yeah, well can you keep it down? It's late."

"Sure, Jon. No probleminissimonito."

"OK, thanks."

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Starbucker: What a load of crap ahem wonderful stuff!

2006-03-09T13:16:00.000-08:00

Anti-quing. hm. Impressing Dooku with anti-quing. Maybe this show doesn't have that much of a budget after all...

As I walked through all the setup displays... I'm reminded of that dude that I bought all the room decorations from... his little traveling set-up had a look similar to many of these, uh... these, things here... but at least his stuff seemed to have use... this stuff just looked so... lame.

So, what are these things? I asked a dealer... trying to look interested...

As the dealer spoke some gibberish to me, my mind began to wander... I though back over the days I'd been spending in the BB:N house...

yack, yack, yack

I thought of the time I had spent in the Tattooiney heat on Survivor...

blah, blah, blah

I thought to myself "my back is kinda hurtin..."

yakkity-smakkity

I thought of the daring-do's I'd done...

gabby-wabby-ting-tang

...and the not-so-daring don't's that I did anyhoo...

will he ever shut up?

Then, I remembered what I was supposed to be doing, and the Iorthian was still yammering... am I supposed to understand these creatures? Oh, hey look over there... Jon's found a cool simulator...

I don't think he's even taken a breath yet

...and there's Jardena - wow... she is one cutie! If only I wasn't just a lowly wannabe... *sigh*

Does anybody ever even read these?

Good gosh, how long can an Irthorian gab?

WHAT!!!! What did Jar Jar just say? Only two minutes left!? Holy Crap!

Uh, How much for that box over there? Yeah, That one... I don't care if you haven't unboxed any ofit... Just how much? 50? Cool, gimme.
_____________________________________________________________

Lessee what we got here...

...

!!!

What kind of crap is this?

Man, lookit this crap... Oh, well, a goobersmoocher like Dooku will prolly luv it.

Starbucker Out

Typho: Collectables

2006-03-09T11:57:00.000-08:00

McDooku's Happy Meal toys.
Originally uploaded by Captain Typho.

"Usa got ten minutes!" Jar Jar announced.

Great, I mumble under my breath. Everything out here is junk, as far as I can see. Not that I know anything about antiques, but the selection couldn't have been much worse.

I bypassed the furniture and art dealers and hurried toward a grumpy Ithorian who specialized in collectables and recent memorabilia.

"Do you have any sports stuff?" I asked.

"Certainly! Certainly!" he said. "This uniform uniform was worn worn by the great great Teras Kasi master master Sudo Bundi when he won won a record seventh seventh 'iron hands' tournament tournament. Observe Observe his signature and this certificate certificate of authenticity authenticity."

"Wow! How much?"

I didn't do much haggling. What a find!

Next the Ithorian showed me an actual game ball from last year's Galaxy Cup when Corellia's winning streak was finally broken. I couldn't pass it up. It was too good to be true.

This guy had great stuff. Before I knew it I had picked up a Kaadara Corsairs team jacket and a 10,000m swoop racer's bronze medal.

"Hey, Jardena, look at all the stuff I got!" I said proudly as she walked by. She may know antiques, but I do know sports.

"Shouldn't you have bought something that will appeal to Dooku?" she said sensibly.

"Uh," was all I could say.

"Usa got TWO minutes!" said Jar Jar.

I turned back to the Ithorian. "Do you have any non-sports stuff?" I asked desperately.

He pointed at a bargain bin. With time (and money) running out I rummaged through the bin and pulled out some toys...

McDooku's Happy Meal toys!

What luck!

"I'll take these," I said hastily. I didn't have enough money left to get all of them, so I settled on three pieces -- a wampa, a jawa and a Dooku watch in the original packaging.

"Time issen UP!" said Jar Jar.

Time for the judging, I guess.

Jon: Been Shopping?

2006-03-08T18:14:00.000-08:00

Antiquing, why'd it have to be antiquing? I hate antiquing. I don't even like the word antiquing. Antiquing. Antiquing. See, you say it enough times and it sounds funny. It doesn't even sound like something a person does, it sounds like something an inanimate object does. My washing machine is sitting in the back yard antiquing.

I walked up and down the rows of the area, looking at the various wares. Nothing caught my eye at all. I just had such a problem getting into this challenge. I know it's important to win these, and we're going to be whittled down to the final 4 after this. If I really want to win that money that can only be spent in a place where I don't live and a house on a planet that is a long time ago and a galaxy far, far away from my home, I'd better step it up.

I sighed wearily as I walked down another row. This just isn't doing it for me at all. Maybe I'll get lucky and find some antique ray guns or an ancient force pike somewhere. Probably not, though. All I saw was a bunch of junk.

Then I rounded a corner and something caught my eye. A lot of somethings. They were bright and shiny, not all drab and dusty like most of this stuff. I think I'll take a look at this.

"Hey, what's this?" I ask.

"OOhh, tthhaatt iiss aa ssppaaccee ccoommbbaatt ssiimmuullaattoorr," she answered. "IItt iiss vveerryy rraarree."

I had trouble understanding what the Itholian was saying, what with her stereophonic style of speaking and all. I am sure that I heard "space combat simulator" and "very rare," though. She offered 100 credits for it, but I managed to talk her down to 50. I'm no master haggler, I'm not even a Marvin Haggler, but I think that I did pretty well on that one. I saw another item at the next seller's spot.

"What's this?"

"TThhaatt, mmyy ffrriieennd, iiss aa rraarree tteeaa sseett ffrroomm tthhee AAnngglleerr CCoosstt DDyynnaassttyy," he answered. "TThheeyy wweerree wweellll kknnoowwnn ffoorr tthheeiirr bbrriigghhtt, ssttuurrddyy ttooy-- eerr, tteeaa sseettss."

I thought that looked really nice, it was very colorful and I think my daughter would really like it for a tea party. Again, the Ithorian opened the bidding pretty high at 95 credits, but I got him down to 35. I'm starting to get the swing of this.

Right next to him was another interesting item.

"Hey, that looks kind of neat, what is that?" I ask.

"TThhaatt'ss aa LLuunnaarr RRoovveerr," the merchant responded. "IItt'ss aa ssiimmppllee rroobboott tthhaatt iiss pprrooggrraammaabbllee ttoo ttrraavveell tthhee ssuurrffaaccee aanndd yyoouu ccaann ppuutt mmoooonn rroocckkss oorr ootthheerr ddiissccoovveerriieess iinn tthhee ttrraaiilleerr. IItt ffiirreess aa pphhoottoonn cchhaarrggee oouutt ooff tthhee ffrroonntt aass wweell."

"A photon charge? Really? How much for this?"

"EEiigghhttyy ccrreeddiittss ffoorr bbootthh ccoommppoonneennttss," he offered.

Eighty! That has to be a bargain at twice the price. Quickly, I paid him and moved onto the next table with my treasures in tow. And that's where I saw another something. But this wasn't just any something, mind you. This something was something else!

"What's this?"

"TThhaatt iiss aa vveerryy rraarree ffoouurr-ccoolloorr mmeemmooiirr ooff oonnee ooff oouurr ggrreeaatt eenntteerrttaaiinneerrss," the trader answered.

"Interesting," I answered (I better be careful not to give away my excitement). "This looks just like a comic book from Earth."

"EEaarrtthh?" she replied. "YYoouu aarree ffrroomm tthhee ggrroouunndd?"

"No, no," I shook my head. "I am from a planet called Earth."

"OOhh," she looked at me sideways -- and that says a lot when you're speaking about an Itholian. "II ssuuppppoossee tthhaatt II aamm ffrroomm aa ppllaanneett ccaalllleedd DDiirrtt, tthheenn."

"II'mm ffrroomm MMuudd," offered another.

"OOhh, yyeess, aanndd II aamm ffrroomm RRoocckk," still another piped up.

"Alright, alright," I answered. "Very funny, guys. How much for the book?"

"TThhiirrttyy ccrreeddiittss."

Thirty credits? Oh man, this was going to be nice. I'm even going to have a sweet 5 credits left over. That'll just go into my pocket. When we get out of this house, maybe I'll buy everyone a drink down at a local watering hole.

J.J.: Finding that Perfect Something...

2006-03-08T10:14:00.000-08:00

Ithorians. Why did it have to be Ithorians?

Now, I really don’t have anything against those Black & Decker hammerhead creatures. I married one once. I also divorced one once.

But for all their nice “oh we are so ecologically conscious”, they can be kinda shifty. And they are one of the few creatures in the universe who are immune to Jawa haggling. That and their talking in stereo really grates on my nerves. But the challenge is to grab some old crap off of them for 200 credits or less, so let’s get the bloodletting over with.

“So, what strange stuff ya got here in your tent?” I asked the first Ithorian.

“Why, I got many wondrous stuff for you to purchase. I have an eighteen century vase that was owned by…”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever. I’m not looking for any highbrow crap. What do you got that’s different. Kinda freaky?

“Hmmmm….freaky….well, I got this?”

“Cereal eh? How much?”

“1000 credits,” he offered proudly.

“A thousand credits??!!! If I wanted a freak for that kind of money, I could buy Mace Windu and still have change. Why so much?”

”It’s still edible.”

“What else ya got? Hey how much for the Ithorian jedi toy there?”

“Um…that’s Ralph. He’s got a glandular problem.”

“Oh. Eh…sorry Ralph. Tough break.”

“No Problem. It happens.”

I wandered around some more. Hours of my life I will never get back again slipped away. The other contestants in the house were finishing up gathering their trinkets and I was still empty handed. I needed to get this done and over with so I could get back to my open bottle of Jack. I then spied some jewelry. Maybe that will impress the judge.

“How much for that necklace there?”

The Ithorian considered the item for a moment, and then spoke. “20 credits/2000 credits,” it spoke at the same time out of both mouths.

“Come again?”

“2000 credits/20 credits.”

“eh…so which one is it?”

“Both/neither,” it mewed in stereo.

“Great. Are you haggling with yourself?”

”Why yes/No I’m not!”

“Spiffy. Say look, I don’t got much time left. How about we cut to the chase, okay. What’s the real price?”

”You have to multiply everything the left mouth says by ten.” Said the right mouth on the heals of the left mouth explaining, “You have to divided everything the right mouth says by ten.”

I thought about it for a moment. “200 credits. Deal.” I handed over the money and they handed me the necklace. “Could ya gift wrap that?”

The Ithorian looked at me disgruntled and stared to mutter something under it’s breath. I think it was cursing me out but it was hard to tell. I then remembered to ask a very important question.

“Hey what kind of stones are those, anyway?”

“Those? Why they are human gallstones. Beautiful, eh?”

Dooku:

2006-03-08T00:31:00.000-08:00

Antiques, what?

Simply smashing.

The monocle is out, and I await your antiques with great anticipation...

Oneida:Great Treasures Within

2006-03-07T22:53:00.000-08:00

Ithorians wandered through the large backyard of the house, setting up their display areas. The antiques were set up in a visually pleasing way, tempting any antiques aficionado to come out and inspect them closer. The Ithorians sat back and waited for us to leave the house to peruse their wares. And they waited, and waited, and waited some more. For some reason none of us seemed ready to rush out of the house to look at the goods. I’ve had some experience with antiques, I worked in a place filled with them. It’s very important to know what’s for show and what can actually be used for its original purpose. What can be touched and what qualifies as 'no touchy'.

We eventually moved out of the house and into the backyard. All of the Ithorians watched as we made our ways through the rows of stuff. I didn’t know what I was looking for, I figured something would jump out at me. I saw chairs, seats, settees, fainting couches, couches, sofas, loveseats, and a bench. Then I saw an intricately carved wardrobe, but passed by that. I crawled under tables to see the maker’s marks, I looked at the feet and hardware on a variety of things. Nada. But this was a challenge, so I kept onward in my pursuit of antiques.

I realized that I didn’t have to confine myself to furniture. I looked through boxes of toys and clothing. Moving through the different vendors' places, I moved in a grid pattern so as not to miss anything. I ended up at a strange little tent towards the back of the group. An old Ithorian woman smiled at me as I walked into the shop area. The ceiling of it hung low and was decorated with a variety of stars and swirling patterns. Beads and scarves hung from the walls. Her style was more gypsy than antiques. She had jewelry, crystal balls, a palantir, which was a bit muddy, apparently its former user had lobbed it off the top of a tower into some mud. In the back I found a cluttered box. “What’s in here?” I inquired. She made a face at me, “Bah, nothing much, just some old trinkets, a paper weight or two, dead lizard. Nothing that will win you the competition, my dear,” she replied.

I started to put the box down, but stopped. Something called out to me, it tugged at my senses, urging me to look through the dead lizard box. I plunked down the ground and started looking through the collection of stuff. Most of it was junk, and there was indeed a petrified dead lizard in one corner. This lady knows her stuff well. As I reached in to pull out another old nokia comlink, my hand connected with something sharp and pointy. I pulled my hand back, nursing the small wound on my palm, but then I slowly reached out for that which caused the puncture. It was a small metal pyramid with line patterns covering the sides. I ran my hand around the base and focused on it. I knew what this was, it was a holocron, a Sith holocron if my Naval Academy education was worth anything. I held it up to the lady, “How much for the paperweight?” I asked, using my handmaiden skills of looking calm. She wrinkled her nose at it, “Hon, that style went out in the ‘80’s. But if you must have it, 5 credits.” I gave her a skeptical look, “For 5 I want the paperweight, this cute little tea cozy and the dead lizard.” She gave me a strange look, “Deal.” I left the tent and headed back to the house, holocron in hand.

While the others shopped around, I sat in the middle of my bedroom and focused on getting the holocron to work. I focused and focused and focused, but to no avail. Then my mind wandered off on some day dream. The holocron activated. Before me stood the image of an intimidating figure cloaked in black. “I am Darth Bane, Sith Master. This holocron contains my wisdom, and the knowledge to lead the Sith to complete domination of the galaxies. Use this to ….” Static interrupted his words, and his image faded out. It was replaced by a tall man in spacer clothing standing next to a small Jedi. “Check it, this is Ping Zorda, and I’m going to spare you some messed up [beep] from Darth Spanky Mc[beep]weasel there.” I think Mr. Zorda was a bit sauced, but I couldn’t tell absolutely. There was some giggling in the background. Mr. Zorda was trying to keep a straight face. “You fools will now have the privilege and honor,” more giggling, “alright, knock it off, fartknocker!!! Be glad I am now at peace with my bad self or there would be hella repercussions for all that laughing.” He resumed his look outwards towards an unseen audience. “Now, without any more interruptions, I will sing the Happy Birthday Song in every known language, in alphabetical order with the great Master Barrett.” And off they went into song. Fortunately the holocron turned off easily.

I pondered my choice for a bit. Well, it is an antique. And Dooku probably won’t risk opening it during judging. I think it might have a chance. And if not, I have a lovely tea cozy.

Starbucker: Chess, anyone?

2006-03-07T10:36:00.000-08:00

Hey, I made up a 2-D chess set out of my shattered bits and shards of last's week's sculpture fiasco.

Anyone care to play?

Anyone care to wager challenge credits?

heh-heh

Starbucker Out

Challengen #8

2006-03-05T21:07:00.000-08:00

Jar Jar: Looken out der window, "guests", yoursa next challenge hassen arriven!

The contestants go to look.

Typho: Aren't those Ithorians?
Fluke: Not just Ithorians... Ithorian antique dealers!

Collective gasp.

Oneida: Wait, what's so bad about Ithorian antique dealers?
Fluke: *Shrugs* I wanted to sound dramatic.
Jon: So, what do you want us to do?
Jar Jar: Issen simple. Yousa each getten 200 credits. With thissen, yousa mussen buy, barter, beg, steal, cajole, or otherwise acquiren der bestest antiques yousa can finden from der band of antique dealers camped in oursa backyard.

Whosaever getten der best deals will winnen der challenge. Of course, since yousa will all haven different items at der end, issen noah simple to picken a winner. So, wesa hassen bringen in someone whosa really knowen antiques: Count Dooky. Hesa will be judgen yoursa efforts. Now: begin!

Voten-Offen Seven

2006-03-05T01:07:00.000-08:00

Okeyday, now wesa getten serious. Only five contestants aresa gonna be here tomorrow, so whosa gonna leaven ussen today? Itsa gonna be...

Master Yoda: Yousa hassen been voten out of der Big Brother House.

Timen to Voten

2006-03-04T13:17:00.000-08:00

Congratulalations, Lt. Cmdr. Oneida! Now, issen time for der voten. Yousa knowen der drill, okeyday?

J.J.: The Waiting (is not always the hardest thing...)

2006-03-04T10:28:00.000-08:00

The place: late at night in the Big Brother: Naboo house.
The scene: The remaining six contestants sit in their heavily monitored living room drinking margaritas and snacking on chips and guacamole.
The mood: Rife with a mixture of anxiety and boredom as they anticipate who will be voted off next.

Yoda: Sucks this does.

Jon: I know what you mean, Yoda. This waiting to find out who goes home is agonizing.

Yoda: No. Sucks, this margarita does. Too much salt, it has. Not enough tequila. Made this batch, who did?

Everyone but Fluke: Fluke.

Yoda: hmmmm. Very disappointing. In your drinks, must learn balance, if you wish to become jedi order wannabe.

Fluke: Can you teach me, Master Yoda?

Yoda: No. Too late. Too late in the night to begin the training. Yes. Have someone else, the next batch make.

Typho: I’ll get it.

Yoda: Yes. Make good margaritas, Tight-Foe does.

Oneida: I wonder who will be voted off now?

Jon: Well, at least you know it won’t be you.

Oneida: But I don’t want it to be any of you either.

Oneida lets her eyes linger on Typho, adding meaning to her statement.

J.J. staggers up to the table to grab a fist full of chips with one hand while sloshing his drink in the other. He carefully aims for the bowl of guacamole before jamming the chips in the green goop.

J.J.: I don’t want annny of yooz guys to leave….either. Yooove all been….(hic) so good to me. You….you’re like my….family.

Fluke: um…how many of those margaritas did you have, little buddy?

J.J. stops and ponders the question, swaying on his feet.

J.J.: Uh…I think gazebos!

Fluke: That’s what I thought.

Typho: Here’s the next batch.

J.J.: Ooooo. Gimmeee…

Jon: Um. Haven’t you had enough there?

J.J.: What else do wez gotsta dooo besides wait till the votes are counted? I’m bored.

Yoda: A good point, he has.

Typho: We’re just looking out for you there, J.J.

J.J. looks at his housemates, his eyes get all big and doe-like.

J.J.: That’s….thaz just…beautiful, man. I ….I just want toooz say…toooo all a youz…that I love you guys. You…You’re just…just…. …

J.J. teeters and falls face first in the guacamole.

Jon: Well there goes that snack. Anyone know if we have any salsa left?

Oneida and Fluke carefully lift J.J.s head out of the bowl and let him drop on the couch; his face and robe spattered with guacamole.

J.J.: ZZzzzzzzzzzz….smack…smack….zzzzzzzzz

Fluke: Should we put a blanket around him?

Jon: Looks like he just got back from some fancy salon with all that green goop on his face.

Typho: So….what do we do now?

A few moments of slightly inebriated silence follows as all eyes shift towards the slumbering jawa.

Oneida: I’ll get the curlers and the nail polish.

Fluke: Ooo! yeah! I get some ribbons!

Jon: ehhh, I don’t know. That’s kinda mea-

Yoda: Yes. And fishnet stockings you must put on him.

Oneida: One moment, I think Padmé left some clothes. I’ll go get them.

Within moments, she comes back with some clothes and a makeup kit.

Oneida: I wish Padmé were still here. She’s so good at coordinating color and all.

Fluke: What color for the nails?

Jon: Pink.

Oneida: I think J.J. looks good in pink.

Yoda: The pink heels, do not forget. Show off his painted toenails, they do.

Oneida: Got a pair right here.

Fluke: And a big ol pink bow.

Typho: I think he needs some make up. Who wants to do that?

Oneida: I got it. Hmmmm… there we go.

Jon: Did you have to put so much on?

Oneida: Well, he’s got major five o’clock shadow. At least I think it’s five o’clock shadow.

Fluke: hmmmm….somethings still missing…oh, I know…a purse!

Oneida: Awwww…J.J. is so cute.

Jon: Adorable.

Typho: sweet.

Yoda: Darling.

Fluke: Beautimus!

Oneida: Hm…Let me see if I can fix his lipstick.

Typho: No wait!!! Don’t touch his cigar! He’ll wake up!!

J.J.: ZZZZzzz Snork!! Smack! Heh??? Wha-?

Everyone steps back, whistles innocently, nonchalantly looking at the ceiling

J.J. yawns and stretches. He suddenly notes the other people shuffling their feel, trying desperately not to look in his direction.

J.J.: Why are you guys standing around like that? Whatcha been up to?

Nervous whistling gets louder.

J.J.: What…What’s going on?

Fluke and Jon try desperately to hide their smiles. Typho pretends to cough, covering up laughter.

J.J.: What’s with you guys?

Unable to control themselves any longer, the others burst out in fits of laughter.

J.J.: I don’t get it.

(With special thanks to Vampirella, Barriss and Oneida for the plot assist.)

Palps: Judgment Day

2006-03-04T06:25:00.000-08:00

…I’m standing in a room, surrounded by boxes and boxes of Oreo’s. There is a large table in the middle with one chair. I sit down and begin to eat them.

Yummy…

Suddenly I realize! NO MILK!

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!............

Then I hear a voice in the distance…

“Chancellor? Chancellor? Itsen time for yousa to be waken up.”

“Huh?” I reply, waking up with a start.

“Itsen time for you to be judgen the challenge, okeyday?”

“Oh, uh, yes, yes. Sorry, I was just resting my eyes.”

“Yousen okeyday, Chancellor?”

“Yes, fine.”

I rise and walk into the art room to judge the final entries.

First up: Jon, The Intergalactic Gladiator.

Hmmm….interesting.

Next: Oneida

Hmmm…also interesting. I like the use of Speedo and Oreo as a central theme.

“Question for you, my dear…How is it that you are named after flatware?” I inquire.

“Pardon?” she replies with a quizzical look on her face.

“Never mind.”

Next: Master Yoda

A fine use of porcelain to compliment the clay.

Sniff, Sniff. What is that smell?

“A present I left in the bowl.” he says. “Artistic accuracy and sophistication was my goal. Impressed are you?”

“Hmmmm…”

I move to the next entry.

Next up: Starbucker

“I call this one ‘TnA’ sir.” He pipes in.

“Yes, well I call it ‘hideous’.” I reply.

“Well…it’s…uh…art, you know. I was really going for a … hey look, Sniffy's wagging her tail again! Ha ha ha! Good doggy!”

Moving on.

Next: Cpt. Typho

“Interesting. And what exactly happened to the 2nd one from the left?”

“Uh…I slipped.”

“Indeed.”

Last (and almost certainly the shortest): J.J.

“Food. What an interesting choice of source material. What is it supposed to be?” I inquire.

“It’s supposed to look like you, sir.” He replies.

“Really? I don’t see the resemblance.”

“So, Yousa seen all thesa entries. Whosa is the winner?” Jar Jar asks.

“Well, first off I would like to commend all of the contestants for their complete and utter lack of artistic skill.”

A collective gasp…

“Awww. Now I won’t get to go to Toshi station to pick up some power convertors,” Fluke mutters.

Onieda looks at him, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh…nothing.” He replies with a sheepish grin.

I continue.

“Considering all of your efforts, I must say that you are all ‘losers’ in my eyes. Having said that, if I must pick someone as a ‘Winner’…”

“…Lt Commander Onieda.”

Applause fills the room!

J.J: Food for the Soul

2006-03-03T00:09:00.000-08:00

J.J.: Oh man…How many brownies did I have last night? Two dozen? Three?

I-SUC: It was closer to five, sir.

J.J.: What…was I…doing?

I-SUC: Mixing banana-vodka jello shots with tequila slammers while plowing down brownies at an alarming rate, sir.

J.J.: Ohhh….my head. I wish I was dead.

I-SUC: Yes sir. I know the feeling.

J.J.: What….made me go on…a binge like that?

I-SUC: You were hard pressed for an idea for this week’s challenge, sir. You thought it would give you inspiration if you pickled yourself enough.

J.J.: Did it work?

I-SUC: I’m not sure. I am a Citrus Salvaging droid and not too familiar for what constitutes good art, sir. Although you did raid the refrigerator quite heavily.

J.J.: I had the munchies, eh?

I-SUC: I believe so at first but then you began to make some rather…peculiar objects with the food. That is before you passed out in your own vomit.

J.J.: Great. I was playing with my food. I don’t suppose I made anything that might resemble this week’s challenge, did I?

I-SUC: Perhaps. You started simple with this I Pod made from a banana.

J.J.: Hmmmm….remind me to give that to Jo Jo.

I-SUC: You then made a replica of Stonehenge out of chocolate and coleslaw.

J.J.: Great. All I need now is a dwarf to dance around it.

I-SUC: Aren’t you a dwarf, sir?

J.J.: Hey, watch your mouth, SUC-man. I’ll drop you faster than yesterday’s bran muffin.

I-SUC: Sorry sir. Perhaps you should rip out my wiring in a fit rage and cast my useless hide in the dumpster? It’s only fitting.

J.J.: Maybe later.

I-SUC: Promise?

J.J.: Not now. I got to come up with something for the sculpture challenge and fast. I think I’m the last one to finish and I only got a few hours left. Think, damn it. Think!

I-SUC: You can use the left over food…at least the stuff you weren’t chewing on…to construct a bust of the person judging this contest. Everyone else seems to be sucking up to him.

J.J.: Hey, that’s not a bad idea SUCy. I may have to keep you around after all.

I-SUC: Oh….great. Prolong my agony why don’t you.

J.J.: Can it and hand me that melon. Yeah, that’s the one. And those bananas. Ooo! And that cauliflower. …some of those green beans and cherries and pasta and those last two uneaten Oreos. Hmmm…It’s missing something.

I-SUC: Hair?

J.J.: Yeah! That’s it. I need some hair. Hey hand me those strips of bacon. There we go! Everything’s better with bacon!

I-SUC: If you say so.

J.J.: Ahh…There! What do you think? Does it look like the senator? Ya think he’ll like it?

I-SUC: It’s the spitting image, sir.

Typho: Monumental

2006-03-02T20:34:00.000-08:00

Mt. Palpatine.
Originally uploaded by Captain Typho.

Sculpture isn't my thing. I can draw okay, I can carry a tune and occasionally I can write something that a friend might like.

But sculpture?

Really hard to control.

However, I had what I thought was a great idea, so I picked up a chisel and started working on the stone.

Chip, chip, chip...

The fact that the Supreme Chancellor was going to be judging this wasn't lost on me. I've often been in the presence of the Chancellor with Senator Amidala, but I've never actually spoken to him one on one. This could be my big chance.

Chip, chip, chip...

I first got the idea I was trying to execute here on the tenth anniversary of the Trade Federation invasion. Everyone on Naboo was debating how the pivotal figures in the event should be honored.

Chip, chip, chip...

Commemorative coins. Stamps. A small statue in Theed.

Chip, chip, chip...

My take on it was, go big, or don't do it at all.

Chip, chip, chip...

Make something that people can see miles away.

Chip, chip, chip...

The original idea would've featured Padmé, Qui-Gon, Jar-Jar and Chancellor Palpatine, but for the miniature version I was creating today, the focus would be all on the Chacellor.

Chip, chip, chip... Aw, @#%!

I had been putting the final touches on the piece when the chisel slipped. One of the faces, the second from the left, was now, well, scarred.

Running out of time, I sanded it and smoothed it down as best I could. I carved a smile on the face, but, er, it looks a little... creepy.

Hopefully it's not too noticeable.

With the Chancellor approaching to judge my piece, I draped a cloth over my sculpture.

"And what have we here, Captain?" said the Chancellor.

Clearing my throat, I said threw off the cloth and said, "Behold! Mt. Palpatine! Maybe we can have something like this carved into the mountains outside of Theed one day, your Excellency."

I hope he likes it.

Jon: ah yes, art is good

2006-03-02T20:19:00.000-08:00

The other contestants were frantically working on sculptures while I stood there and admired my paintings. Yep, I did a really good job. Well, OK maybe the Yoda one wasn't that great, but all the others came out really well.

Fluke leaned in for a moment and asked "Are those going to be your final entry?"

"Sure," I answered. "Why?"

"Well, didn't you hear what Jar Jar actually said the challenge was?"

"Of course I did," I replied. "He said to make art."

"Yeah but he said to make a sculpture," Fluke asserted.

"What? When did he say that?"

"He said it when he gave us the challenge, Jon." Fluke looked at me like I was some kind of goobersmoocher. Note to self - remember to ask Fluke what a goobersmoocher is.

"It's true," said Ranaé as she walked up to us. "I didn't want to tell you because, well, you know I wanted to win, but Jar Jar told us to make a sculpture."

"A sculpture!" I cried. Oh man, I don't have much time!

"A sculpture," Fluke repeated. "Even I understood the instructions and I have a short atten-- hey look! Sniffy's wagging her tail! Ha ha ha! Good doggy!"

"But all I heard was 'art,'" I protested. "I swear, I can barely understand what he's saying half the time. What am I supposed to do?"

Yoda looked up from his work. "Talk very oddly Jar Jar does, yes," he stated. "Know what the matter is with that boy I do not."

"Hey, don't look at me," Ranaé held up her hands. "I'm not your Universal Translator."

"There's a little bit of clay over there," Fluke pointed to a small pile. "Throw clay, Intergalactic Gladiator! Throw clay like the wind!"

OK, I can do this. I've been in tougher spots. Quickly I grabbed the clay and started to shape it. I have to tell you, clay is not my first choice. It's not even my second choice or my third choice, either. I can do this, though.

I threw the clay around, beat it and molded into shape. I then quickly glazed it and threw it in the kiln. Time was running out, so I cranked the kiln's dial up to 11.

What the heck does a kiln need a Magnetic Field Component indicator for?

I could swear that I heard popping, whistling and hissing as the moisture was superheated out of the clay. Quickly, I pulled my piece out and set it on the table for display.

"What is that supposed to be?" JawaJuice looked with his mouth agape (at least I assume it was agape, I really wasn't sure).

"Well, it's art," I answered. "It's subjective."

Captain Typho came up and looked at it. "Man, I wish that you hadn't subjected me to it."

Starbucker: Busted Bust

2006-03-02T14:17:00.000-08:00

Making a scuplture... Lemme tell ya - this has been my most difficult challenge yet... both mentally AND mentally. Not so much because of the actual making of the thing, but first off, I had to figure out what was I gonna sculpt- because I wanted it to make a statement - and then, I had a lot of obstacles to overcome - a lot... and I'm not EVEN talking about my favorite sock that's come up missing.

Sit back - lemme tell you ALL about it:

First off, I knew... I just KNEW that I had to make a statement with whatever subject I chose... especially if Chancellor Palpy was gonna be judging. I knew my subject had to be strong of character... easily recognizable... the enemy of my enemies... willing to do whatever to right wrongs... but what?... or who?... would fit all that criteria? Hhmmmmmmm...

Then it hit me - I realized that if I did not succeed, I ran the risk of failure.*

So, I quickly chiseled out a big life-sized likeness of Dan Quayle before bedtime...

I knew I'd be able to polish him up and finish him out the very next day... so I went to bed. I slept soundly knowing it would be a masterpiece!

_________________________________________________

But to my utter shock - when I woke up - he had been shattered!!!! Who would have done such a thing?

I gathered up and pieced together as much as I could - and decided to just go with a bust because the bottom half was really destroyed... but the bust itself - after I glued it together - didn't really look all that bad...

Thank goodness for JJ. He had, like, cases and cases of Elmer's glue in his room.

But the cracks in it really bothered me, so I figured out a plan for a paint scheme... I knew that I didn't want to go back to tomorrow - I wanted to go forward.*

...and went and got a good start on painting him just before bedtime...

...satisfied that it was all going to turn out alright, I went on to bed. I slept soundly knowing it would still be good. I was under the false sense of being ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur.*

__________________________________________________

The next morning, I woke up to find - someone had botched up my paint job!

Of all the low-down, dirty, rotten....

!!!

Who could be doing this?

I quickly dug out my chisel and began working to remove the layers of paint...

I wanted to get it back to the original, flawless color of the stone, and I couldn't believe how difficult it was to chisel paint off of a bust!

I worked until late in the evening and went on to bed... I slept ok, kinda fearful about what may happen overnight...

I knew that the future would be better tomorrow.*

Then, I had a frightful dream in which my bust lost it's head after being shot by another bust with an apparent careless aim... or maybe it was actually careful aim. I could not tell which.

__________________________________________________

The end of the dream jolted me awake in a cold sweat, unlike Pvt Hudson's warm sweats...

I rushed into my work area to find... That the head of my bust was not gone... BUT had been severely altered!!!!

OMG! I simply could not believe it! It's like I've been targeted by a saboteur! But who?

Or was I losing my mind? What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is.*

Realizing there wasn't much time left... I quickly began to straighten it out... but in my haste, I couldn't get it back right again...

I kept working it...

and working it...

and working it...

and working it...

and working it...

and working it...

...but everytime I thought I was getting closer, I'd step back to soak in what I had done, and realize I was further off than before...

Hm... what if I were to spruce it up a little with some face decor?

like a moustache... and maybe some eyebrows... and a little black plastic bowler...

Argh! How frustrating! That would not do!... and the pieces were about to be judged! And this piece was a real mistake!

Now I know we're all capable of mistakes, but I do not care to enlighten you on the mistakes we may or may not have made.*

This is when I entered panic mode. I quickly shattered the piece, having drawn the conclusion the the stone obviously had bad karma.

Then I quickly molded up and painted a little clay sculpture, I'll simply name : T-n-A.

There now! The Chancellor should be very impressed! I have made good judgements in the Past. I have made good judgements in the Future.* Perhaps the Chancellor will make good judgements someday later.

Starbucker Out

*- denotes some actual and some paraphrased Dan Quayle quotes.

Jon: Hey look, Sniffy's working on a painting, too!

2006-03-02T12:05:00.000-08:00

Yoda: Perhaps Too Sophisticated My Art Is

2006-03-01T19:10:00.000-08:00

So supposed to create a sculpture we were. It just so happens, a hobby for me sculpting is. But I think perhaps wasted on these doofuses, my art is. Too sophisticated my art is. Only high art I create.

Still, do my best on this I was going to. So a big chunk of marble I got and chipping away I started. Usually, let people see one of my projects before they are finished, I do not. But very nosy, the Chancellor was.

"Well, Master Yoda, you're sculpture is quite impressive so far," he said.

Hmm, good taste in art he has. Evidently, good art when he sees it he knows.

A little later...

"I must say, Master Yoda, I'm quite impressed. Very good form. You must be an amazing student of anatomy to have done this without a model to observe..."

"Wait! Done I am not. Very sophisticated, this piece will be when finished I am."

Later...

"Well, finished I am. Think, what do you, Chancellor?"

"I... I must say... I'm absolutely speechless."

"Yes, I knew that impressed you would be."

Like to see my finished sculpture, would you? Scroll down you must.

"The Stinker" I call it. Please be intimidated by how sophisticated it is, do not.

.

Oneida: Art that Might Endure, Maybe

2006-02-27T20:46:00.000-08:00

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…

2006-02-27T16:27:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-27T09:18:00.000-08:00

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!

Challengen #7

2006-02-26T19:50:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-26T05:00:00.000-08:00

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.}

Voten-Offen Six

2006-02-25T23:22:00.000-08:00

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!

Phew Thassen wassen close

2006-02-24T21:49:00.000-08:00

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?

Staarrrrrbuckerrrr: Blimey!

2006-02-24T07:33:00.000-08:00

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...

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...

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:

but, There was a nice tub of Paarrrrkay:

...and a Parrots t-shirt:

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

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*

Yoda: What the...?

2006-02-23T22:28:00.000-08:00

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 Sabé!"

"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

2006-02-23T21:08:00.000-08:00

Jar Jar provided some reinforcements.
Originally uploaded by Captain Typho.

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!

2006-02-23T18:00:00.000-08:00

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!

2006-02-23T08:02:00.000-08:00

Oneida: Dealing with Morgan

2006-02-22T23:27:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2006-02-21T12:04:00.000-08:00

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!

Challengen #6

2006-02-19T19:35:00.000-08:00

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!

Voten-Offen 5

2006-02-18T19:22:00.000-08:00

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!

Sniff Soah Beautifullen...

2006-02-17T03:54:00.000-08:00

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.

Yoda: Ode to Dolly Parton

2006-02-16T19:43:00.000-08:00

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.

.

Grievous: Ode to the Republic

2006-02-15T21:57:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-15T11:43:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-15T08:41:00.000-08:00

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 7/13^th rhyme scheme of Coo-coo-ca-choo Tusken raider clan, heavily influenced by the 28^th 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

2006-02-15T07:36:00.000-08:00

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.

Typho: Dante’s Poem

2006-02-14T22:31:00.000-08:00

Would I climb Deeja Peak...
Originally uploaded by Captain Typho.

After Jon left the stage I remained. Putting aside the upright bass, I told the judges, “I’ll go next.”

I cleared my throat and, squashing a momentary feeling of nervousness, I began.

---


Would I climb Deeja Peak
Or cross the Jundland Wastes
  In my haste
    To impress?
      Yes

Would you do the same for me?

Or are you master
  To my padawan
    Who has the upper hand?
      Are we doomed to fail like
A mind trick
  On a Toydarian?

I'd rather think how it began
  You watching me
    Your mask of indifference
      A decoy
Gilded like a protocol droid
  And nearly as proper

Enigmatic like a Jedi
  But with Twi'lek style
    Work your wiles, lady

Please do.

---

With a bit of a self-conscious smile, I nodded at Jar Jar and the judges and reclaimed my seat next to Jardena.

“Well, how bad was it?” I whispered.

Jon: Not as mellow as Longfellow

2006-02-14T15:19:00.000-08:00

I know a lot of limericks. But most of the ones that I know would make Michael Grievous (the chairman of the Galactic Communications Commission) blush. It’s hard to do a limerick without working blue. I figure my only chance is to jazz things up with something hep.

Snap snap snap snap snap snap snap.

“Welcome to the Beat Corner. I’d like to thank my main man Typho for layin’ down some nice grooves.

There’s a room with a view
That’s got some ladies, it’s true
Noel, Padmé and Ranaé, there in pink

The room’s frilly and smells nice
I’ve been in there twice
But nobody offered me a drink.”

Snap snap snap snap snap snap snap.

“Thank you, you’re a good crowd.

Down the hall, to the right
Is where Yoda spends the night
Jaba and Grievous, there too

Though Jaba was kicked out
Yoda and Grievous still shout
Too much, that place is just not cool.”

Snap snap snap snap snap.

“Thank you. Typho, strummin' the bass. Oh yeah.

Another room on the floor
Jawa and Obi are through that door
Holographic paint all o’er the walls

‘Tis a nice place you’ve got to see
But not where I want to be
When the paint starts hurting my eyeballs.”

Snap snap snap snap snap

“Oh yeah, thank you.

On the wall, Hulk and Spidey
Though the room's a bit untidy
It's the place where I want to hang

With the Flukester and Typho
And room for Boba and Jango
It’s the pad with room for the whole gang

Cool times in this room
The drinks we’ll consume
And may I paraphrase a Kennedy named John

‘Ask not what your room can do for you
But ask for your room what you can do’
Look on the TV, it’s Michelle Kwan!”

Snap snap snap snap snap.
“Thank you. Thank you.”

Oneida: Poetry; A Breathing Exercise

2006-02-13T21:14:00.000-08:00

Poetry? Is he serious? I really don’t like poetry. When I was younger (16), I was taken to a poetry reading on a date. I was dating this kinda artsy guy who thought it’d be wonderfully deep and profound to go listen to people read their poetry. After 10 minutes of listening to that stuff, I was willing to chew my hand off to get out of there. It was a bunch of whiney people with nothing better to do than put their unhappiness into a rhyme scheme and then make others listen to it. I’m sure there is good poetry out there, but it certainly isn’t going to come from me, and I don’t think we’ll be hearing any in this house if we have to appeal to Gungan sensibilities.

Ok, so I tried a haiku

Tall, serene, and wise
Qui-Gon, Jedi Warrior
Forgot to parry

Uh, no, I’ll get hurt for that one, and deservedly so. But I liked the idea of writing about Qui-Gon, I mean, he did save us and the Gungans. And the last book I read was a biography on him, so I’m in that subject mindset. And yes, I had quite the school-girl crush on him. But I’m past that. I figured I’d give it another try, but not in haiku form.

Ode to Qui-Gon
Tall, serene and wise
Great Jedi warrior
To the challenge he did rise
To help save Nubian posterior
Saw possibilities in many places
Saw potential in many faces
Oh, Brave defender, Qui-Gon Jinn
I’m really bummed Maul did him in

I handed Jar Jar the paper. “Whatsa yousa thinkin mesa gonna do wit dis?” he asked me. “Uhh, read it and marvel at its great profound implications?” I offered. “Nosa, yousa gonna hafta read it in fronta all da contestants.” He smiled at me, pointed to the front of the room, and pushed me forward.

I looked at the faces of all the people I’d lived with for over four weeks. The desire to run away and hide under my bed welled up in my chest, but my feet stayed firmly planted to the floor. Stupid feet. I'm scared of speaking in front of others, and that I'd have to read my terrible poetry, that made it even worse. Not to mention the cameras. The Gungan judges at first looked solemnly at me, then after a bit, they looked a little perplexed when I didn’t say anything. I have no idea how long I stood there, but then my brain came up with another plan, and no, still not a good one, but it’d get me done pretty quick. “An Ode to Qui-Gon” then I paused, took a very deep breathe, and

“Tall,sereneandwisegreatJediwarriortothechallengehedidrisetohelpsave
Nubianposteriorsawpossibilitiesinmanyplacessawpotentialinmanyfaces
oh,bravedefender,QuiGonJinnI’mreallybummedMauldidhimin”

I was a bit dizzy from the endeavor, but I was done. I took the judges silence to mean I could leave. I hurriedly made my way out of the center of the room and sat between Typho and Jon, the two people I hoped wouldn’t give me too much grief about my dumb poem.

Challengen #5

2006-02-12T23:01:00.000-08:00

Jar Jar: Okeyday, "guests", issen time wesa tryen someting a little different... a poetry contest!

Yoda: Say that, you did not. Make us write poetry, you will not.

Jar Jar: Say that, mesa did not. Make yousa writen poetry, mesa- hey! Noah usen der force on Big Brother! Hesa will get berry angry and vengeful.

Padme: So, like, Jar, do we need to, y'know, write good poetry, or just any old junk?

Jar Jar: Of course issen mussen be good poetry. Well, maybe noah good by yoursa definition...

Oneida: Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what he says next?

Jar Jar: Itsa mussen impress oursa judges - whosa are all Gungan.

Typho: Uh-oh.

Oneida: What?

Typho: Gungan poetry is the second-worst in the galaxy.

Oneida: What's the worst?

*Typho jerks his head in Padme's direction*

Jar Jar: Yousa can writen about a place, a possession, a pet, or even a fellow contestant. In six hours, oursa judges will inspecten yoursa verses. Go!

Good bye.......

2006-02-12T15:06:00.000-08:00

Well.... it has been fun.... and I will miss everyone.

But actually I'm glad to be going. It's not that I don't like you guys (I like everyone very much), it's just that I miss my privacy. I miss sleeping in my own bed, eating my own food, doing what I want to do. Now I don't have to worry about doing those challenges.... even though I'm always up for a good challenge.

I hope the best for you all. Don't party to hard, don't get too drunk, and since I'm not around don't make to big of a mess.

Now that I'm leaving, I plan on staying on Naboo for awhile and actually ENJOY my vacation. And since I don't really need to work at the resort, I may buy a house here on Naboo. I may start working on my experiments again... maybe even become a doctor (that's my dream).

So maybe I'll be seeing you around.... maybe not.

Good luck everyone.... I'm out of here to enjoy some free time ALONE.

Ohh one more thing.... Typho, the bird will be leaving with me. So no need to worry about going into the girls room anymore.

Well that's all I can think of to say... so see you later and GOOD BYE...

Noel.

Ohhh wait one more thing.... Scott will be coming over to fix up the bathroom (after our date)

Yousa Aresa Der Weakest Link

2006-02-12T01:47:00.000-08:00

Oursa votes aresa in, from both oursa gentle viewers and oursa "guests". With noah further adoin, mesa presenten der fourth person to be voten offen der Big Brother House...

Noel of Neptonian, by trial of yoursa peersa and of random passers-by, yousa aresa outsa of heresa.

J.J.: Down Time

2006-02-11T09:09:00.000-08:00

Well, after a few tight challenges (some of them…eh…. tighter than others) it was time for the Big Brother Housemates to relax and take it easy for the weekend. I mean, come on…what else are we gonna do?

I invited everyone over to my room. Man, it’s amazing how much space I got in there after I painted the place with the “Tropical Beach” colored holo-paint. And with the secretly hidden heat lamps, you would have thought it was July all year long in there. Most of the crew headed straight for the mini bar, Padmé being the first one, naturally. Others just kicked it, lying in the warm sand with the fake sound of the ocean rolling along.

Typho and I got into a one-eyed staring contest.

I’m not sure what everyone else was doing as since the contest took nearly an hour before a winner was declared. (Grumble…grumble…Damn that good one eye of his…) But everyone seemed to have a good time (despite the few leftover monkeys). But with all the booze flowing, can anyone remember what they did?

I do remember after a few hours, Fluke asking, “Hey J.J. …Where’s that droid of yours? I thought he was at the mini bar mixing the drinks?”

I looked around. The little I-SUC droid was no where to be found.

“I think I saw him outside by the pool just a little while ago,” Noel added.

The pool? What would he be doing there? Unless…oh no. Not again.

"Great Droid maker in the sky, make me rust…make me die…"

The Finden

2006-02-10T21:32:00.000-08:00

Jar Jar: Okeyday, yousa time issen up. Now, mesa will searchen der house with mesa cameras, and comen to looky around mesaself as well.

Grievous
Jar Jar: Yousa hiden Yoda’s gimer cane in a berry clever place, but itsa sticken through der wall and in front of mesa camera. Too easy.

Oneida
Jar Jar: Mesa might noah have finden der lightsabre yousa stealen from Grievous, but yousa failen to taken one ting into account: mesa loven Uber Branflakes! Imagine mesa surprise when a lightsabre turnen up in mesa breakfast bowl.

Jon
Jar Jar: Heh heh. Yousa tinken mesa would noah finden yousa magic eye picture, didn’t yousa? Too easy.
*One of the cameramen sniggers*
Whatsa?
*The other cameraman giggles*
Whatsa so funny?
*Jar Jar whirls around trying to see what they’re laughing at, then notices the piece of paper stuck to his back saying “Jon Rulez”*
Oh. Der magic eye picture wassen noah… ah. Well… er… thissen still counts. Mesa finden yousa item!

Padme
Jar Jar: Now, where could itsa… hey! Jack! Yousa supposed to be flimen mesa, okeyday! Whatsa so fascinaten about Padme’s chest?
Jack: Er… nothing…
Jar Jar: Then whysa are yousa getten an extreme close-up of– hey. Wait a minute. There…
*Jar Jar reaches forward and plucks a cork from Padme’s cleavage*
Padme: Hey! That’s, like, harassment
Jar Jar: Ah-hah! So thissen yousa item!

Yoda
Jar Jar: Yoda, Bob der Bantha issen way too big.
Yoda: Bob the Bantha? Here he is not. Sent him back to Coruscant I did.
Jar Jar: Hesa right dere behinden der curtain.
Yoda: No, left the building, Bob the Bantha has. See him I do not. Hallucinating are you, Jar Jar.
Jar Jar: Never mind...

Jar Jar: Now, thatsa leaven Typho, Fluke, Jawajuice, and Noel. If yousa can show mesa where yoursa items were hiden, yousa three will winnen der challenge.
Fluke: Oh… well, my item kinda, you know, well…
Jar Jar: Spitten itsa out!
Fluke: It’s in the Theed General Hospital A&E Department.
Jar Jar: Uh-huh. No, really, der challenge is over, mesa lost. Yousa noah need to pretend dat yousa item issen noah here.
Fluke: I sorta… rammed a garden gnome down Dave’s throat.
Jar Jar: WHAAAAAT!!?? Do yousa noah known how much oursa cameramen cost!?
Jack: Actually, you pay us, like, 5 creds an hour.
Jar Jar: Shut up. And yousa, Fluke, yousa losen because yoursa item wassen noah inside der Big Brother house.
Noel: And… uh… my item was burnt up when Jawajuice incinerated the bathroom.
Typho: Well, I can show you where my item is.
Jar Jar: Good. Leaden der way.

In the girls’ room…

Typho: I painted a feather from Noel’s parrot into the molding… here. Or, was it here? No, here… It has to be here somewhere…
Jar Jar: Wesa noah haven all day.
Typho: Oh, this isn’t good… I hid my item too well for even me to find it again…
Jar Jar: Den yousa losen der challenge. Now only onesa person left… Jawajuice.
Jawajuice: About time… I’ve been walking around like this for days…
*He relaxes his legs, and a coconut drops out the bottom of his robe*
Jar Jar: Whoa. How could mesa missen dat?
Jawajuice: Don’t be hard on yourself. Jawas have been hiding illicit merchandise since before the Gungans ever existed.
Jar Jar: Okeyday, so Jawajuice winnen thissen challenge! Hesa will be protecten from one vote in der next voten-offen, whichsa starten now. Oursa contestants can e-mailen votes to mesa – viewers, usen der poll below.

Yoda: The Bantha Now You See, See the Bantha Now You Do Not

2006-02-10T21:30:00.000-08:00

So telling us about this week's challenge Jar Jar was. Acting up, my hearing aid was.

"Today, yousa task issen to hidden someting from mesa - any object...weeeeeeeee"

"Yoda," to me Lt Cmdr Oneida whispered, "your hearing aid is making that noise again. It's keeping some of us from hearing Jar Jar."

"Say what did you?"

"Your hearing aid is making the noise."

"Speak up you must."

"YOUR HEARING AID!"

At her everyone turned around to stare.

"Shh!" I said, "to listen to Jar Jar we must. Disturbing other people you are."

Speaking again, Jar Jar continued, "Yousa will have to finden a way of stoppen mesa hidden cameras from finden itsa...weeeeeeeee..."

My hearing aid I fixed, but not before done speaking Jar Jar was. The main points I got. Hide something from the cameras we were supposed to.

Immediately, a very clever plan I devised. Oh, so clever it was. So amazed everyone would be. Yes, very tricky I am. One problem there was - following me around this one camera was. Still, a very good plan I had.

"Oh, hello. Mind me do not, Mr Cameraman. Just taking my bantha for a walk I am." (See how suave I can be, do you?)

"Hey, over there look. Senator Amidala in her underwear is that?"

"Hmm, my mistake that is. Old I am. So good any more my eyes are not."

"Uh, Yoda?" Jar Jar said later, "Yousa bantha issen too big to qualify for der challengen."

"Of what bantha do you speak?" I asked Jar Jar, "Know of any bantha I do not."

"Meesa can see him. Hissen feets issen sticken outsa der curtain."

What?! Stupid Bob! Knows how to hide he does not!

Noel: The Find....Sort of.

2006-02-10T00:09:00.000-08:00

continued from here, here,and here

Well, this is the day that Jar Jar finds our hidden items.

My item is still hidden...In the trash can. I don't know if he will find it or not.... I hope he don't....But who knows.

Well other then that it hasn't.......

A yell is heard outside in the hall way. Noel gets up to see what the commotion is all about.

As she opens her door she hears Jon yell for someone to get a fire extinguisher. She looks over at Jon, who is standing by the bathroom. Smoke is spewing out of it. Then Fluke ( with extinguisher in he=and) starts to run down the hallway and slams into Noel. Both go crashing to the floor. The fire extinguisher that was in his hand, goes flying through the air and lands at Jon's feet. Jon picks up the extinguisher and starts to spray the bathroom.

Noel gets up off the floor and runs over to Jon, followed by Fluke. Soon others come and see what is going on.

The bathroom is on fire. Fire is eating away at the shower curtain. The decor that was hanging on the wall is gone. The trash can is a heap of melted smoldering plastic.

Jon puts the fire out with a few quick sprays of the extinguisher. The bathroom is a mess.

Everyone looks around at each other. Then they all turn at stare at the little Jawa (who happens to be wrapped up in a towel). And at almost the same time, everyone yells......"JJ".

"WHAT!!!" Answers the little Jawa.

"Smoking in the tub again were you?" Asked Yoda.

"Well..." JJ tried to answer.

"And you fell asleep, RIGHT," interrupted Grievous.

"I may have dozed off... I didn't mean to start the bathroom on fire.... It was an accident." He said, "If that stupid trash can wasn't there it would have never happened."

Everyone turned and looked at Noel. "What, now it's all my fault that the bathroom's a mess."

"Well, you did move the trash can." JJ said.

"I.. Didn't think anything like this would happen." Noel said, "But if it wasn't for you smoking in the tub, it wouldn't have happened."

"FIGHT," yelled Fluke.

"Okay...Okay, there will be no fighting." Oneida said putting up her hand, "The fire was clearly an accident. It happens, at least nobody is hurt and the bathroom will be easy to fix."

"Oneida's right," said Typho, stepping in next to her. "At least everything is fine."

"FINE... FINE.... "cried Padme. "How can everything be fine. We now have only one bathroom. And I refuse to use it.... Not when that Hutt was in it.... Ewwww."

"It has been cleaned," said Noel.

"Still, it is so gross," whined Padme.

"It will only be for a of couple days," said Typho.

"Hey.... I still have Scotts number," Noel said, with a small smile. "If it's okay with Jar Jar, we can call him to co,e and fix up the bathroom for us."

"I hope he lets him come in here," said Typho. "I don't want to have to fix it up myself."

"I'm sure it will be okay," said Oneida.

The group disperses.

As Fluke and Jon walk by one of the camermen Fluke says to Jon "A fight would have been so cool to see. We missed the girl on girl fight, which really sucks. Plus I have always wanted to know what know what a naked Jawa looks like...."

"Fluke," said Jon. "You are one very strange person."

"Thanks."

Well that was fun.....and I guess I will not win. Let's just say my item was toasted.
And Jar Jar will be here at any moment to find our hidden items.

This sucks.

Sniff Sniff Sniff!

2006-02-09T12:25:00.000-08:00

"What is it, Sniffy?"

"Sniff sniff sniff!"

"Is there a problem?"

"Sniff! Sniff!"

"Someone's in trouble?"

"Sniff sniff sniff! Woof woof!"

"Is it Fluke?"

"Sniff."

"Is it Captain Typho?"

"Sniff. Sniff!"

"Is it Jawajuice?"

"Sniff!"

"Is it any of the ladies?"

"Sniff! sniff sniff!"

"Alright, alright, don't get upset with me. Is it Grievous?"

"Sniff."

"Then is it Yoda?"

"Sniff sniff sniff! Sniff! Sniff! Sniff!"

"What's wrong with him?" What happened to Yoda?"

"Sniff sniff sniff!"

"He's stuck in a what?"

"Woof woof! Sniff sniff sniff! Woof woof!"

"That's what I thought you said. Where is he?"

"Sniff! Sniff! Sniff!"

"Well let's go, then!"

"Sniff! Sniff! Sniff! Woof woof!"

"Oh my God, Yoda! Are you OK?"

"Fine I am, Jon. Taking these mudbaths I like because so good for my skin it is. Like a 200-year-old kid again I feel. Now alone, leave me please."

Noel: Sleep walking....

2006-02-09T00:13:00.000-08:00

I just want to say, that I take back blaming Oneida for leaving the dirty dishes in the bedroom. Apparently it was ME doing it.

I talked to one of the off duty cameramen, and he said that I come out after everyone is asleep and go into the kitchen. I then get something that was left over from dinner, bring it back to my room, and eat it.

The thing is I don't remember doing it....

I think I may have relapsed. You see when I was younger I used to do a lot of sleep walking. Jentry took me to a specialist and they got me to stop.

I wonder why I started up again... I haven't done it for 20 years. I think it may have something to do with the show. All the people, the stress of the competition. That may be it.... Well at least I know now. And I don't think my midnight eating will hurt me. Unless I eat one of Fluke's Bean Burritos.....

Now what about the others, do they have any excuses for the mess.

And remember, the only reason I cleaned the place is because, #1 I was trying to confuse the cameramen. And #2 I had nothing else to do while all of you enjoyed the pool.

Damn Implants .

Oneida: Just Shove It Somewhere

2006-02-08T16:04:00.000-08:00

I had something I’d been hiding since the last challenge, though not from the cameras. I was hiding this from General Grievous. You see, during the last challenge, when he’d detached three of his four arms, I saw a chance to cause some mischief, also known as furthering the goals of the Republic. No, I didn’t stencil the Republic insignia on him, my self preservation mode wouldn’t let me. But it did let me swipe one of his many lightsabers when he wasn’t looking. And I know he’s noticed that it’s gone, but he hasn’t asked anyone if they’ve seen it. There is a reason for that. I wasn’t sure what to expect, I’d never seen a lightsaber like this before. It was small, the base had a plastic little kitty on it, and off the bottom were several little crystal charms. It took me a while to turn it on, I was pretty convinced I’d leave the experience missing a hand, eye or maybe create some ventilation for my brain. When I did finally turn it on, I was rather surprised. I was holding what was the lightsaber equivalent of childproof scissors. And it was a lovely shade of violet. I had no idea that they made a ‘my first lightsaber’. What is he going to do with this? Leave burn marks on people's clothing?

I had to hide this thing and I had no idea where. And now I had a deadline. I tried sticking in a potted plant, but that didn’t work out so well, the lightsaber accidentally went off. Umm, I’m sure the tree will recover. Too big to flush down a toilet. Too big to be an inconspicuous aquarium addition. I thought about putting it in the bathroom, but every time I tried Noel was in there. Maybe I should tell her she eats desserts in her sleep. Could be the cause of her frequent trips to the loo. I tried to think of places no one went. I thought about attaching it to Bob the Banta’s collar, but I am well aware it only takes one Bantha to start and maintain a stampede, so I passed.

Time was starting to run out. I *could* hide it in the litter box, but that’s just gross. Then I had a thought, not a very good one, but I wasn’t feeling very picky at the moment. I surveyed the kitchen. There it sat, my salvation, a place no one would look, no one would go, and was boring enough my camera man wouldn’t focus on what I was doing. The guy I have now seems to have a hard time keeping the camera lens level, it always seems to be dipped down on something lower than my face. Maybe he likes my feet.

I walked over to the counter where the cereal was kept. I reached nonchalantly for the box of Totally K Über Branflakes. No one has touched it since we got here. Kenobi looked at it once with an expression of pain, but that was it. I popped the lid on it, then looked back at my camera man behind me. The lens wasn’t pointed at anything above my waist. I quickly shifted the cereal around and shoved the pink lightsaber in the box, then closed it back up. Just to hedge my bets, I put the box behind the Lannik Loops and Cinnamon Bith Bites(with marshmallows!). I stepped back to survey my handiwork. I backed right into the camera lens with my bum. Which answers that question, at least. I turned around, ‘uh, Bill, I’m up here. No, little further up. Yup, there we go. Did you see what I just did?” “Uh, well, ahh, yeah, you shifted your weight from one hip to the other.” Alrighty, so that’s one camera I don’t have to worry about, but what of the stationary cameras all over the house? Only time will tell.

Starbucker: I hope Jar Jar doesn't want these hidden items back

2006-02-08T13:59:00.000-08:00

The camera follows Fluke as he paces back and forth in the Spidey room. The microphone picks up an occasional faint mumble...

FLUKE: "nah... what abo-?... nah. Geesh! Ew! I could... nah - That wouldn't work. Hm... maybe I could try... *tsk* Nah that wouldn't work. *snap* I got it!"

Fluke exits the room... camera close behind. As he walks down the hall, he peers into each room... When he gets to Yoda and Greivous' room, he stops, and leans in... looking around. He enters, snags something from the floor, tucks it into his tunic and hurries out.

FLUKE: "OW! Cut it out!"

He heads to... the kitchen... to the microwave... he opens it... and becomes aware the camera is on him.

FLUKE: "Hey, can you guys like, uh... go see what's happening in the girl's room? or something?"

DAVE: "Oh, we'd love to... but we can't. You're our assignment today... and you're not supposed to talk directly to us."

FLUKE: "Oh," The FotNJOw looks down and around, then all of a sudden points out the window and hollers, "WHat's that wacky thingy out there?!?"

as the camera pans to the window, the distinct sound of the microwave door opening and being slammed quickly is heard off camera. The camera comes back to Fluke, who is now leaning against the counter, twiddling his thumbs.

... as Fluke looks around nonchalantly, whispers are heard between the cameramen....

JACK: (whispering) "Does he really think that'll work? Doesn't everyone here use that microwave almost all the time?"

Fluke now begins to walk away from the camera... scratching his head as he goes...

DAVE: (whispering) "I don't know what he's thinking - I'm telling ya, this guy's really a freakin' idiot."

Fluke stops and turns to face the camera...

FLUKE: "What did you just say?"

JACK: (whispering) "Uh, I think he's talking directly to us again."

FLUKE: "No, no - Not you - I'm talking to him," Fluke points to Dave "what did you just say?"

DAVE: "Ah, well, I..."

About that time, Jon steps in and opens the fridge. The kitten in the microwave meows. Jon looks over at the microwave, then to Fluke, who shrugs his shoulders. Jon opens the microwave.

JON: "Hey, look! Someone's cooking Greivous's cat! It sure is still raw... I hope I haven't spoiled anyone's dinner, but 'out you go, little buddy'."

Jon puts the kitten on the floor and starts to head back out to the pool.

JON: "Hey, man, you oughta join us, the water's fine!"

FLUKE: "No thanks, I've seen a bunch of you coming in for more beer and drinks, but have yet to see anyone visit the bathroom. I'll just hang out in here today."

JON: "Suit yourself."

Jon exits, whistling the theme to "The magnificent Seven" as he goes...

FLUKE: (under his breath) "Crap, now what am I gonna do?"

The camera follows him back to his room... he begins mumbling as earlier...

FLUKE: "now what?... well, I could, uh...nah. Oh, poopy."

____________________________________________

He gets back to his room, closes the door behind the cameramen and sits on the edge of his bed. He knows time is growing short. In desparation and without a lot of thought, he gets on his knees, takes his blaster helmet and shoves it under Captain Typho's mattress, then arranges some pillows and blankets aound the obvious mound and steps back to look at it...

...suppressed laughter is heard off camera.

FLUKE: "Hey! Was that you again?" (Fluke points to Dave)

DAVE: "Listen, I think you're not supposed to talk to us. Isn't that a rule?"

FLUKE: "I never heard that. Come here you. I'm starting to get a real problem with you."

Jack trains the camera on Fluke as he speaks to Dave

DAVE: "You seem to have a problem with everything!"

FLUKE: "Huh? What do you mean?"

DAVE: "You can't seem to do anything right! I'm amazed you can even feed yourself! I watched to stumble through Survivor and was just amazed at your high level of stupidity! I thought it was just an act, but now that I get to watch you up close and personal - you, I just... just... I just can't believe this. I mean c'mon, look at what you're doing here. Hiding a BLAST HELMET??? Under a MATRESS? Where someone is gonna try to SLEEP? How could you even consider that?"

Fluke nods in agreement at the silliness of the situation, and responds very calmly...

FLUKE: "Maybe it is an act."

DAVE: "Yeah, right... dipstick!"

FLUKE: "You do realize you're sitting here now, talking to the Founder of the New Jedi Order wannabe face-to-face, don't you? You should choose your words more wisely."

DAVE: "OMG! WTF?? Yeah, I do realize that I'm talking directly to the wannabe." He rolls his eyes and makes finger quotes in the air as he speaks the word 'wannabe' "What the heak does that mean, anyway? - wannabe. Is that supposed to frighten me - intimidate me? What are you gonna do? Humiliate me with your brilliant analytical skills? I mean - You couldn't pour pee out of a boot if the instructions were written on the underside of the heel."

FLUKE: "Thank you, Dave."

DAVE: (puzzled) "Thanks? For what?"

FLUKE: "You've just given me all the inspiration I need for this week's challenge."

Dave and Jack look at each other quizzically as Fluke walks over to the bookcase and grabs a small garden gnome styled bookend.

Fluke then starts walking back toward Dave...

DAVE: "I, uh... I don't understand... what are you going t..."

____________________________________________

As the ambulance pulled away, there was much commotion as everyone was asking Fluke what had happened...

FLUKE: "It was an unfortunate accident. The poor guy was just trying to help me hide an item for this week's challenge. I told him he shouldn't, but he insisted, and then he fell - didn't he Jack?"

JACK: "Yessir, honorable Mr. Starbucker, sir."

____________________________________________

Meanwhile, back at the hospital...

Doctor: "Did he say what happened?"

Nurse: "He refuses to say, sir. But really, I mean, can you blame him?"

Starbucker Out

Padmé: Fast and Furious

2006-02-08T08:55:00.000-08:00

These challenges are getting weirder and weirder. K, so I have to, like, hide something without Big Bro Jar Jar seeing it. I’m good at hiding things... hiding my identity, hiding feelings, hiding weight gain, hiding weapons, hiding liquor bottles, hiding a bad hair day...

Let’s see. Something small. Maybe something I can, like, stick in my shirt? That could work. I casually picked out a bottle of white wine, which was, like, so nicely chilled in the refrigerator, and poured myself a glass. I took the bottle with me out to the pool.

“Anyone want a drink?” I asked.

Oneida looked at her watch. “Isn’t it a little early to start drinking?”

“K, whatever,” I said, walking over to where JJ, Fluke, and Master Yoda were hanging out.

“You guys, like, want a glass of wine? It’s, like, perfectly chilled and I’m gonna like get some cheese and crackers and stuff!”

JJ and Fluke were all over that, but Master Yoda was like, totally ignoring me. Or maybe he was, like, sleeping. He had sunglasses on.

“Uh, Master Yoda?”

“Hmp, ug, erg, mmm,” he started. “Oh, yes, listening to you, I was, Senator Amidala. Resting my eyes, I was. About your new dress, continue.”

I rolled my eyes. Like Master Yoda is fooling anyone with his “resting my eyes” excuse. “Uh, like, I wasn’t talking about my dress. Do you want some wine?”

“Yes, have wine I will. To meditate, it helps me.”

So I started slamming down the drinks. Fast and furious like. I had to get drunk and make everyone think I was going to hurl. Even though, I like, NEVER hurl when I drink. I can totally hold my liquor.

We polished off the wine quickly, so I made some margaritas. Then some shots and beer chasers. Man, I miss Obi-Wan. He was so totally great at drinking games.

When I was sufficiently buzzed, I starting complaining.

“Wow, like, I don’t feel so good. Wow. Oh, wow, I better-“ I ran off to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth.

Even if those cameras are on in the bathrooms, do you think the cameramen are going to, like, watch while I’m spewing barf? Like, doubtful. Ewww. So I bent over the toilet and pretended to hurl. While this was happening, I slipped the cork from the wine bottle out of my pocket and into my bra. Challenge done!

K, I like, need to rest now. Can someone please stop the room from like spinnin all ‘round?

Noel: The re-hide...

2006-02-08T03:58:00.000-08:00

Continued from here.

After thinking about it for awhile I decided to move my item from where it was currently, and into a new hiding spot. I just didn't think a Kleenex would be safe up there by the light. Not when people are coming and going all the time.

This time I was even sneakier. I moved several things , that way the cameramen don't know what my item is.

So after dinner and when everyone went out to the pool (seems to be the best place to be lately) I decided to do some house cleaning. It really needed it, with six guys and two other girls.... It was a mess.

I turned up some music and started in the living room, picking up papers and magazines and either throwing them away or putting them where they belong. I picked up several dozen bottles of different liquids (mostly alcohol) and threw them in the trash. I picked up a lot of dirty dishes and put them in the sink. Then there was the clothes, dirty shirts and socks everywhere. The guys have a habit of throwing their dirty clothes everywhere. I got a basket from the laundry room and filled it up. I did some other cleaning, I dusted, and vacuumed. The dining area and all the other areas I did much of the same.

I didn't touch the other bedrooms... if they want to live in a mess then let them. I went into the girls room (my room), and did some cleaning. It wasn't all that bad because Typho redid Padme's section and he cleaned up pretty good. However I did clean out Bells cage. Which reminds me, she has been acting weird all day. I wonder what Typho did to her to upset her so bad. She won't even come out of the cage. I hope she's not sick.

Besides cleaning out Bell's cage I picked up some dishes that Oneida left on her night stand. She has this habit of eating her desert in her bed. But she never puts the dishes away. I then proceeded to move around some stuff in the bedroom. I opened drawers and pretended to put stuff in there. I moved some stuff around on each of the dressers. I just did a bunch of unnecessary things to confuse the cameramen.

After I was done in the bedroom, I went to the bathroom. Actually I did go to the bathroom. I straightened stuff up a bit and then I took down my item. And I threw it in the garbage. I also cleaned out the toilet, sink, and tub. They all were looking pretty grimy I don't think anyone cleans anything in there. It was nasty.

I then took out the garbage. I dumped it into the trash can that was in the kitchen. As I dumped it I held the Kleenex with one finger and dumped out all the rest. When I was done dumping it out all that was left in it was my one Kleenex Ha .... Now try and find it.

Well I can go on forever telling all of you everything that I cleaned.... But I don't want to bore you with all the details. So here is a small section of what I did tonight:

Besides doing what I have written above I also did all the dishes and some of the laundry.I picked up, cleaned up, scrubbed and vacuumed the floors, dusted... Lets just say I did a lot. And also re hide my item, with out the cameras noticing. I hope.

And you want to know what kind of thanks I got.... After everyone came in from the pool. They dripped water all over the place, and tracked mud all over my nice clean floor. Then a couple of them (I'm not naming names) threw their towels on the floor. *pigs*

Nobody even noticed, or at least nobody said anything..... I personally can't wait to get home. At least that way the only mess I clean will be my own. *sigh*

..... I do want to win though....

Well anyway my item is hidden again, and I think it will be safe there.

And one more thing I have a basket with clean sock and some shirts in the girls bedroom. Whoever these belong to, please come and pick them up. Thanks.

Now on to see what is wrong with Bell....

to be continued.....

Grievous: A walk through the wall

2006-02-08T00:11:00.000-08:00

Jar Jar gave us the challenge and I knew exactly what to hide:

Yoda's cane!

Yoda was sleeping when I went to get his cane. Well, I was in the same room as him so getting to it wasn't the problem, the problem was getting it from him; his knobbly hand was on top of the end of the cane.

I walked quietly across the room, leaving indentations in the floor as i walked along. I was about a meter away from him and reaching out slowly to prise the cane from his hand.

"Grievous, take my stick you can not, on it my hand is."

I pulled my arm back, feeling the stiffness in the joint where the solder was starting to melt with the heat from the tension that I was putting out. Yoda looked asleep, and if the loud snores coming from him were anything to go by he was asleep.

I tried to take the cane again.

"Grievous, warned you before I did, steal my stick, you can not."

But he was asleep, he can't have been awake, those snores were way too real to be fake. I reached out and swiped the stick from his hand, it fell to the floor, making such a loud sound that it sent my kitten away it a fit of terror.

I picked the stick up and went over to one of the corners of our room and started to climb on top of a pile of items that I collected, you see, when we were renovating the I accidentally cut the camera cable to one of the camera's in the room, so they couldn't see me.

I climbed up into the cavity above the wall and shuffle as far as I could in the cavity. Once I had moved as far as I could I thrust the cane into the darkness around me and headed back. I has successfully hidden Yoda's stick.

And then I walked into the kitchen, it seems that when I threw the stick into the blackness I pushed it through a wall and right in front of one of the cameras.

Typho: Fine Feathered Friends

2006-02-07T22:29:00.000-08:00

Bell had a little... accident, shall we say?
Originally uploaded by Captain Typho.

I was adding the fabric softener to the washing machine when Padmé marched into the laundry room.

“Typho, I’m not happy with what you did with my area of the room,” she announced. “I wanted the walls to be Pear Green, the window sills to be Peach and the part of the wall over that wooden thing--”

“The molding?”

“Yeah, like, I want that part Cream Yellow.”

“But that’s not what you said before. You said you wanted the walls Peach and--”

“You must’ve heard me incorrectly,” Padmé said, flashing her eyes in warning. “I also need the floor sanded where you, like, dripped some of the paint.”

“Whoa,” I said slowly. “When am I supposed to do all this and also do this week's challenge?”

“Oh, it won’t take you long to finish the room. You’ve got, like, days to do Jar Jar’s thing.” She looked at me expectantly.

What was I supposed to do? Say no?

“Okay, but you’ve got to hold up your end of the bargain like we discussed, right?” I said, referring to the private conversation we had had previously about her Jose Cuervo habit.

“That’s so not a problem. You can check my room. No bottles!” she said brightly.

Maybe too brightly.

Hmm.

“Deal?” she said.

“Deal.”

--

A little while later in the girls’ room...

There is a reason why “watching paint dry” is a synonym for boredom.

I tried talking to Noel’s bird while I was sanding and later vacuuming the dust off of the curtains, but all it would do was squawk in a suspicious kind of way. I guess it’s not that kind of bird.

There were two upsides to renovating the room. The first was that with all the sanding and painting going on, the cameras in the room were rendered temporarily useless. It's nice to relax and know you're not being spied on.

The other upside was that the window in Padmé’s corner overlooks the area where Jardena hangs out by the pool.

Mmm! Beautiful. I like having her around again.

I leaned forward to get a closer look at her...

Phht!

Puzzled at the sound, I reluctantly turned my gaze away from Jardena and back to the room.

There were feathers floating in the air and the cage where the bird should’ve been was empty.

Oh, Sith.

I heard a muffled squawk from inside the vacuum cleaner and I quickly shut it off. Was it too late?

Just then there was a knock at the door. “Typho, like, is everything okay in there?” came Padmé’s voice.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. But you can’t come in here. There’re a lot of fumes and I, uh, have to clean the place up a bit,” I answered. “Lots of dust. Bad for your skin.”

“Well don’t take all day.”

“OKAY!”

Her footsteps retreated down the hall and I hurriedly opened up the vacuum.

The bird was still alive!

It pecked me viciously (@#$%!) as I carefully cleaned it off and put it back in its cage.

I thought it looked okay, but one really long tail feather was missing. It wasn’t noticeable on the bird, but the feather was a bit too long to conveniently dump in the garbage.

Desperate to hide it, I climbed up on the ladder, tucked the feather into a space in the molding and painted over it.

One hidden item and one room redecorated.

Whew!

With that done, I headed back to the laundry room. Hopefully no one had dumped my wet clothes on the floor.

Who keeps doing that?

2006-02-07T14:29:00.000-08:00

The challenge may have been to hide something in our room, but the challenge of the challenge was to hide it from Jar Jar. Jar Jar had an advantage with his cameras being everywhere, which makes for a challenging challenge with this challenge. I had my own advantage, though. I had my wits, my guts, and my brains. That’s right, I’m going to outsmart the Gungan.

chal·lenge
n.

A call to engage in a contest, fight, or competition: a challenge to a duel.
An act or statement of defiance; a call to confrontation: a challenge to the government's authority.
A demand for explanation or justification; a calling into question: a challenge to a theory.
A sentry's call to an unknown party for proper identification.
A test of one's abilities or resources in a demanding but stimulating undertaking: a career that offers a challenge.
A claim that a vote is invalid or that a voter is unqualified.
Law. A formal objection to the inclusion of a prospective juror in a jury.
Immunology. The induction or evaluation of an immune response in an organism by administration of a specific antigen to which it has been sensitized.

This plan is going to be twofold. First, I am going to “fake hide” this picture behind the bookcase. It’s one of those holographic picture puzzles that were pretty popular on Earth about 10 years ago. The rest of the universe, having invented holographic puzzles in one way or another eons ago, looked on disinterestedly. My puzzle picture is a sailboat. Can you see it?

dis·in·ter·est·ed
adj.
Free of bias and self-interest; impartial: “disinterested scientific opinion on fluorides in the water supply” (Ellen R. Shell).

Not interested; indifferent: “supremely disinterested in all efforts to find a peaceful solution” (C.L. Sulzberger).
Having lost interest.

dis·in ter·est·ed·ly adv.
dis·in ter·est·ed·ness n.

OK, so when Jar Jar comes to take a look, he’ll be easily distracted by the puzzle and that’s when I’ll slip this, the real item, onto his back. It’s a sign that says “Jon Rulez” because in many ways I do. Yes I do realize that the word “rules” was misspelled. I did that for comedic effect. I’m not an idiot, I know how to spell “rules.”

So I’m ready for Jar Jar to come in and do the search. And I know that I’ll win this one because I am a high-speed, low drag, nitro-burning master of subterfuge.

sub·ter·fuge
n.
A deceptive stratagem or device: “the paltry subterfuge of an anonymous signature” (Robert Smith Surtees).

I pressed myself against a wall, deftly avoiding a pair of Fluke’s underpants that were on the floor. I slid towards the bookcase and slipped the holographic poster between the case and the wall.

un·der·pants
pl.n.
A lower undergarment, typically having short or no legs, worn next to the skin under other clothing.

With the poster stuck there, I slid back across the wall, dove over the corner of the bed, and did a combat roll. I hopped back up onto my feet and looked left and right. I had my real item to hide concealed in my sleeve and I was ready.

“Hey, nice combat roll,” Typho said complimentarily.

“Thanks,” I replied.

I’m ready for Jar Jar, I just have to remember to quit humming the theme to Mission Impossible when he’s in the room.

Who should leave this week?
	Jon
	Fluke

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Who should go this week?
	Typho
	Oneida
	Jon

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Who should go, chaps?
	Oneida
	Jawajuice
	Fluke
	Jon

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Whosa should be voten off?
	Yoda
	Jon
	Fluke
	Jawa Juice
	Typho

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