(“Drivin’ a Truck” Copyright Weird Al Yankovic, Running With Sissors)
The ancient Model T chugged and puffed along
I15 in the slow lane toward Las
Vegas, with C3PO at the wheel. Obi Wan and
Qui Gon were squished in the back
seat like sardines, but their Jedi Code wouldn’t
allow a more updated or
spacious vehicle. At least they had a chauffer,
however annoying he might be
with his demands for oil and constant muttering.
“Some vacation!” Obi Wan huffed mentally, but
Qui Gon caught his thoughts
through the Force and gave him a warning glare.
Obi Wan scowled and pretended
to be really interested in the scrubbrush.
* * *
“I’m drivin’ a truck! Drivin’ a big ol’ truck!
Pedal to the metal hope I don’t run outta
luck
Rollin’ down the highway until the break of
dawn
Drivin’ a truck with my high heels on!”
Yoda laughed to himself and clicked his rhinestone
pumps together as he sang.
Piled on no less than ten pillows to reach
the wheel, the little green midget
used the Force to operate the pedals beneath
him. He’d lifted starcruisers,
so this was nothing. Child’s play. And for
once, he was in a good mood
because he’d been called to a drag show, and
he was the star. But first, he
had to deliver these slot machines. They’d
been Sith proofed so only Jedis
and retired people would win. His feathered
boa blew in the wind from the
open window, and the stars were bright. He
blew a kiss to his lipsticked
reflection in the rearview mirror and wiggled
his red painted toenails. Then
he saw the Model T.
HONNNNNNNNNNNK! HONK-HONNNNNNNNNNK!
He leaned on the horn for all he was worth.
“Move your ass you WILL! A Jedi
Master I AM!” Yoda yelled out the window as
he passed. He fairly swerved
around them, fishtailing. His red taillights
faded into the night at
lightspeed.
“Oh dear!” exclaimed C3PO, gripping the wheel
of his lessor vehicle. “I
believe I almost short circuited!”
Qui Gon spoke quietly, the barest trace of
amazement in his voice. “I sensed
a great disturbance in the Force.”
Obi Wan rolled his eyes. “WE almost bit the
dust.” He received another glare
from Qui Gon, who was in an even worse mood
than usual. “What’s the matter,
those cashews creeping up on ya?”
“Be silent, my Padawan.” Qui Gon warned.
The Model T decided that it was time to bite
the dust itself. With a
deafening backfire, it belched enough black
smoke to engulf half the desert,
then died like a contracting accordion. They
were still about 100 miles from
Las Vegas, and Jedi power alone wasn’t going
to get them there.
“So what do we do now?” Obi Wan hopped out
and threw up his hands. He kicked
at the dust with one worn shoe in frustration.
“We walk, Obi Wan.” said Qui Gon simply, and started off.
“Maybe we can hitch a ride.” Obi Wan suggested.
All they could hear was a
lonely coyote howling. There was no sign of
car lights anywhere, behind or
ahead of them.
“Wait for ME, you fools!” C3PO admonished, trotting stiffly toward them.
The Jedis had nothing on them but the clothes
on their backs and their
lightsabers. Obi Wan was about to break into
a cactus when they all heard a
deafening roar from above. A strange vehicle
like a giant bat flew over them
and stopped. They looked up, mesmerized by
it. It was a Blackhawk.
Qui Gon gave Obi Wan a dirty look. Obi Wan
shrugged. “I didn’t do anything!”
he protested, practically whimpering.
The ship landed and two military pilots got
out, dressed in black with
strange insignia. “You boys need a lift?”
one of them said, a more than
amused look on his face.
“We’re going to Las Vegas.” Qui Gon said cautiously,
sensing another
disturbance in the Force.
“We figured that. Hop in.” the guy gestured
to the ship. Not having a choice,
they obliged. In seconds, they were hovering
over the top of the Hilton
Hotel, and landed on the roof. “Just follow
the hall to the elevator. The
Star Trek Experience is on the bottom floor.”
They all looked at each other. “Huh?” they said. The ship took off.
* * *
Yoda waddled into Caeser’s Palace and started
levitating the slot machines
into place. The process went well until he
got his boa wrapped around the
joystick on the last one and was flipped up
in the air. The machine crashed
down, its programming scrambled to allow a
Sith to win, and Yoda fell
facedown on a roulette wheel. The patrons
were so drunk they exploded into
fits of laughter.
“Eeeeeeeeeeee!” (bump-bump-bump) went Yoda.
“Anybody wanna bet on the little green guy?”
Yoda got up, wobbling on his high heels, and
tried to look as distinguished
as possible. “Bet you will not! Late for a
drag review I am!” He jumped off,
landing on his face, and hobbled off into
the crowd. He made his way toward
the dressing room.
* * *
Meanwhile, Darth Maul had found the jumbled
slot machine, and hit it big. He
let out a whoop of Zabrakian triumph as the
machine went crazy, half the
patrons of the room gathering around him.
So much money spilled out, he had
to use his robes to catch the loot.
A group of cheap women flocked to his side.
“Hey baby, your planet or mine?”
one of them said, putting her arm around him.
“Forget the Force!” he said to them. “We’ll BUY OUT the Jedi!”
* * *
Obi Wan, C3PO and Qui Gon wandered aimlessly
in the crowd of Star Trek
charachters and their groupies. Obi Wan pointed
at the mock turbo lift.
“Hey, THAT looks familiar...” he said in quiet
amazement, and started running
toward it.
“Be careful, Obi Wan. The Dark Side has many
faces...” Qui Gon warned,
following him. C3PO staggered behind, looking
all around for something
resembling oil. He spied a Black Bottom drink
in Quark’s Bar, and snatched it
up, swigging it in one gulp. A guy dressed
like a Klingon swiveled around to
face him.
“Hey! Think you can get away with that cuz you’re in costume, huh, punk?”
Qui Gon rushed over and calmly released C3PO
from the man’s death grip with
the Force. “He is of no concern to you.” he
said, staring in his eyes. The
Klingon turned back around, and ordered another
drink.
“No more adventure!” C3PO protested, shuffling
away from the turbolift. “I’m
not going that way!” Then he hiccupped.
* * *
Meanwhile, Darth Maul was getting married to
all his girl groupies in the
Elvis Chapel. He was secretly planning to
take them back to Coruscant and
make them all slaves and concubines. The “priest”,
looking suspiciously like
Senetor Palpatine, smiled slyly as they left.
Their giggling and gossping
died away as they all headed to the honeymoon
suite with the giant heart
shaped tub.
* * *
Obi Wan, Qui Gon and C3PO all stood cautiously
in the Enterprise turbolift,
which was actually an elevator that took them
to the bridge of the fake ship.
They were the only group to come through this
hour, and jumped in alarm as an
invisible announcer’s voice broke out above
them. They instinctively ignited
their lightsabers and stood back to back.
“Enemy ship approaching at warp 5.”
The control panels around them went crazy,and so did they.
“How do you work these things?” Obi Wan demanded,
his eyes and hands darting
around like a mouse on D-Con.
“Use the Force.” Qui Gon said, predictably.
“The Force isn’t going to work on this control
panel!!!” Obi Wan shrieked in
competition with the wailing siren. “Red alert!”
he shouted to no one in
paticular, just knowing he’d heard that from
somewhere. That’s when the
computer made another encouraging announcement.
“Klingon ambassador coming through.”
Qui Gon stared at the screen of moving stars,
glaring whoever this ambassador
was into submission, whether visible or invisible.
“Instructions, please.” the computer voice droned.
“Reveal yourself!” Qui Gon commanded, holding
his saber like a baseball bat.
He was supposed to say “onscreen”, but the
computer had been programmed to
take all like instructions.
The imposing Wrestlemainia-like Klingon (which
was really a prerecorded
video) appeared larger than life, staring
them down from scowling brows.
“Ah, my next victim!” he snarl/smiled, then
laughed. Obi Wan was still madly
punching blinking buttons, looking like some
deranged pipe organ player. C3PO
popped out from where he’d taken a wrong turn
into the production studio and
tapped Qui Gon on the shoulder.
“Sir, I believe there’s something you should know...”
“Not now, C3PO.”
“What are you Federation weaklings doing in
Klingon space?” demanded the
recorded Klingon.
“We have never heard of Klingons...”
...”We have the authority to give you a detour...”
the Klingon interrupted
him.
“SIR!” C3PO demanded. “If you would PLEASE
listen! This whole thing is a
setup! Quite cleverly contrieved, noless,
but...”
“Silence!” hissed Qui Gon. With a warlike yell,
he ripped his saber through
the screen, and made nothing but a slash across
the picture. The Klingon
continued making threats, a giant gash in
his midsection. Qui Gon looked at
him with disbelief.
“He is incredibly strong in the Force...” he muttered aghast.
If C3PO’s eyes had been moveable, he would have rolled them.
“Sir, that’s what I’ve been trying to TELL
you....” He was cut off as a black
figure came leaping through the screen. It
was Darth Maul. His own saber
ignited as the simulator shook violently and
the computer voice made another
ominous announcement.
“Prepare for evasive maneuver!”
The Enterprise banked sharply to the left,
toppling all of them into the far
wall. C3PO rolled clunkety-clunk on the floor
and flew into Maul, who tried
to slice off his head with his saber. Indignant,
C3PO kicked him in the shin.
Qui Gon rose to a saber swinging fest with
Maul, and what was left of the
screen showed an asteroid field approaching.
The ship bounced and shook, and
even the Force couldn’t keep their footing
as they toppled and flew into each
other.
Obi Wan had taken his saber and slashed the
control panel of the bridge,
frustrated with trying to make it work.
“Need some help, Master?” he offered Qui Gon,
feeling warmed up now. Maul
growled at him.
“I wasn’t asking YOU...” Obi Wan countered,
aiming for a blow at Maul from
behind. As Maul countered it, the ship “landed”
on Risa, the pleasure planet.
A scantily dressed pair of twin women walked
up. “Welcome to Risa.” they said
in unison, smiling suggestively. All three
men dropped their duel and stared.
Qui Gon’s lips set in a firm line.
“The Dark Side has many faces.” he warned Obi
Wan, who kept staring with
Darth Maul.
* * *
Darth Sidious threw his head back in the control
room and laughed. Oh,
everything was going splendidly! He’d capture
the Jedi AND hone the rage and
hatred of his pupil as well. What more could
a dark lord ask for? He started
to pull back a switch that was intended for
a short circuiting of C3PO when
something snarling, tiny and green leaped
upon his neck.
“AIEEEEEEE!” Yoda shrieked in a rare display
of emotion,yanking Sidious’s
head back. Yoda kicked his high heels into
his chest and Sidious threw him
off with the Force. Yoda bounced off the wall
where the on/off switch was and
the lights came on in the studio. The activity
also stopped on the “bridge”.
“HEY!” all three men exclaimed in unison. The
screen was now white and blank
with a giant rip in the middle, and all the
control panel lights went dead.
“I have a bad feeling about this...” Obi Wan
noted. Maul just growled. Then
they heard all the commotion in the adjoining
room.
“That sounds like...” Qui Gon said.
“But that’s impossible...” Obi Wan continued.
Darth Maul shoved them both
forward.
“Wait for ME, you fools!” C3PO shook his fist,
which was actually on the
other side of the room. It had broken off
when he’d flown into the wall
during the “asteroid” storm. He hobbled over,
picked it up, and reattached
it.
They stormed into the studio and saw Sidious
being slowly choked to death by
Yoda’s Force-projected, disattached feather
boa. Maul shrieked with anger and
went after the little green runt. The Jedis
blocked him. That’s when the next
group of tourists decided to make an appearence
on the bridge and the
managers ran into the studio.
“What are you guys doing in here? This area’s
off limits!” They felt the
Force of Security as they were all shoved
roughly out. They heard the violent
resulting wrath of cursing as the authorities
inspected all the damage done
to their equipment. “Somebody get those guys!
They’re under arrest!” they
heard one yell to another operator.
As one, the non-Star Trek Experience patrons
ran out to the bridge, past the
staring tourists, and through the already
torn screen - and right smack dab
into a black anteroom with a flat wall. They
continued their duel, producing
an odd shadow-puppet show for the tourists
before breaking out and chasing
each other to the turbolift. The Jedis made
it first, with Yoda perched on
their shoulders, and glared up at Darth Sidious
and Maul as they shot quickly
down. Desperate, and annoyed by all the attention
from the tourists and
threatening security,. they grabbed the elevator
shaft cable and descended
with the Force. They used their sabers to
cut through the wall, and emerged
right into Quark’s bar. They crashed through
the drink display amid screaming
patrons and chased Obi Wan and Qui Gon through
the crowd.
* * *
“Computer, freeze program!” commanded a breathless
Quark, who was still
working the bugs out of his new holosuite
experience. “That’s enough for one
day.” he muttered as he left the chamber and
returned to his bar.
He was pouring an Andorian Blue for an impatient
Cardassian when an
all-too-familiar figure waltzed into the bar,
his black boots creating a
quiet but ominous thud. It was that damn Darth
Maul! But how?!
“I’m looking for some “friends” of mine. They’re
Jedis. One tall and old, one
short and young, with a little green runt
with pointed ears on his shoulders.
Have you seen them?” More than something about
his eyes made Quark comply in
his response.
“No, but if you pay me a hundred bars of gold
pressed latinum, I can FIND
them for you.” he offered shakily, but determined.
Maul smiled evily. “Done.” he said. “Now get me a Pete’s Ale...”
* * *
Darth Maul awoke with a gasping intake of breath,
struggling the shake the
nightmare he’d just had. Him, the Jedis and
his Master on Earth? Impossible!
He stumbled out to the kitchen to get a Pete’s
Ale, and guzzled it down in
one fell swoop. The Force had strange ways.
Strange ways indeed...
He stepped on his robe, which he’d thrown on
the floor, on his way back to
bed, and it made an odd jingling sound. Curious,
he picked it up, and several
silver coins fell out. Wait a minute...
He picked one up and examined it in the light
from his saber, and saw a
foreign man’s head etched on the surface.
This was so familiar...
...Then the alcohol started to take effect,
and his head went fuzzy. He
flopped onto the bed and fell into a dreamless
sleep.
By: Kelli