We could be award-winning actresses if we wanted to!   vs.   Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace

by Cloud Volpe

I suppose a quick introducton is in order. First off, I apologize for taking so long writing this darned story. When you see how long it is, I think you'll understand. In its length, however, I believe I have constructed one of my most viciously satirical works to date. Not only do we get the usual insults to the Spices, but we also see jabs at Hollywood, science fiction, United States politics, and yes, even an Orwell reference (though that doesn't really constitute a jab).

To those of you who are Star Wars fans, please know that I mean no offense by the content of this story. I myself am a huge Star Wars fan, and I loved the Phantom Menace to death, while some more devoted fans have dismissed it as utter crap. Still, as this is satire, I must poke fun at Star Wars. Don't get offended if you're a big fan of sci-fi.

And finally, in no way do I intend to imply that any of the actors, directors, producers, or movie crew featured within this story actually act the way I portray them. It's all in good fun, and I don't want to make anyone think that any of them would actually say or do any of the things in real life that they say or do in this story.

There, now that that's done, grab a bag of Doritos, open up a can of Pepsi, and prepare to read...

Oh, unless of course you're one of the three people who didn't see the movie yet. This story contains major plot spoilers, so don't read if you haven't seen the movie and don't want to know what happens.

Scene I: A Special Edition!

(Inside the George Lucas household, not all is well. Sitting at his desk, the portly director wipes a bead of sweat off his brow, then utters a whispered curse as he pores over a stack of papers with various statistics, charts, and graphs printed on them. Suddenly, the phone rings, startling Lucas. He makes a hasty grab for the phone, then places it upon his ear.)

Lucas: Jim? Is that you?

(The voice on the other end is that of one of Lucas's many henchmen, Rick McCallum [Hey, I can't remember any of the other people who work at Lucasfilm, so don't write in complaining! -Cloud])

McCallum: Er… no… George, it's Rick. Are you still waiting for Cameron to call you?

Lucas: No… I… (He stumbles over his words.) Rick, we can't beat the haughty son of a bitch! I've translated and compared the Titanic grosses with the Phantom Menace grosses in every possible currency and applied every last bit of probability that I can remember from high school math, but there's still no way for us to win. He's going to call me any minute now and tell me to kiss his king-of-the-world ass.

McCallum: George, snap out of it! Do you have any idea what TIME it is?

Lucas: I… uh… (He glances at his watch. His eyes widen.) Holy shit! It's that late?

McCallum: Only reason I called was because I drove by the ranch and saw your lights were still on, so naturally I was worried. You need some sleep, man!

Lucas: I can't, Rick. I can't sleep. Not until I figure out why people didn't like the movie, and what I can do to beat Cameron!

McCallum: Well, our feedback indicates that a lot of people despised the movie because of Ja…

Lucas: Wait! I've got it! I know why people didn't want to see the movie over and over again!

McCallum: Oh, so you have read the feedback reports?

Lucas: What reports? I don't need reports to tell me that we're missing… the TF!

McCallum: The what? TF? What does that stand for?

Lucas: It's Hollywood slang for Teenybopper Factor. Cameron drowned that blasted Titanic movie with it like a kitten in a rain barrel!

McCallum: No, really George. It says here that over 78% of your fans refused to see it a second time because of, and I quote: "That floppy-eared, brainless, annoying son of a…"

Lucas: Yes, it's all falling into place! The only thing wrong with my movie is that not enough prepubescent girls or horny teenage boys wanted to see it!

McCallum: No, George, seriously, listen to me. Read the damned reports. You ruined the movie by giving too much screen time to that annoying Gungan pri…

Lucas: Can you see it, Rick? (Lucas waves his hands in the air for effect, despite being the only person in the room.) We'll make a special edition! It'll be just like the last three special editions, only it will have lots of cleavage and pop music!

McCallum: George, are you even listening to me?

Lucas: We could get B*Witched… or one of those boy bands simply oozing with homoeroticism…

McCallum: I'm going to hang up in a second, George.

Lucas (snapping his fingers): Of course! We'll get the Spice Girls! It's not like they're busy making albums or anything, plus they've made a movie before, so they already have the experience issue covered!

McCallum: Goodbye, George. (He hangs up the phone with an audible click.)

Lucas: But our money is tied up in the next two prequels, so we have to use as little money as possible. That means only one take for each shot! And script improvisation on the spot! Can you see it, Rick? We'll be millionaires… er… still! Good Lord, I'm brilliant!

(Pause.) Rick?

(Longer pause.) Rick, are you there?

(Dial tone.) Damn you, Rick. You never listen to me when I'm telling you something important. (He hangs up the phone.)

(The next day, George Lucas is sitting at his desk, speaking on the phone when another henchman, Ben Burtt [He was one of the film editors. I had to look it up in the credits! -Cloud], enters the room, waving a stack of papers.)

Lucas (motioning with his hand for Burtt to sit down): Look, Frank, I don't care if the movie's about the Muppets going to a Roman orgy! Just tell Henson's brat that you'd rather have your hand up a wrinkly green alien's ass than a fat female pig's ass! I need you here, and I promise it won't take long! (He hangs up the phone.) Give me some good news, Ben.

Burtt (looking rather glum): I'm going to have my work cut out for me, sir. (He picks up the papers and begins reading from them.) Robin got in touch with all of the actors involved, and the responses weren't great. (He clears his throat.) Ahem! Mr. Neeson says you can shove a lit lightsaber into your rectum since you had the nerve to kill off his character at the end of the movie.

Lucas: Shit. Tell him he can play Qui-Gon's disembodied spirit in the next movie.

Burtt (continuing): Mr. McGregor has gone into isolation, claiming that he has disgraced his independent, low-budget film roots.

Lucas: Offer him ten million.

Burtt: Ms. Portman has declined, claiming that her grades in college are more important than acting at the moment.

Lucas: Damn. Well, find out who her professors are and send a couple… er… Sith Lords after them. (He winks.)

Burtt (winking back): Gotcha. (He squints at the page again.) She also says she refuses to do another movie with you until you somehow get the rabid Star Wars geeks to stop calling her, "Your majesty," and trying to have sex with her.

Lucas (long pause): Send her a toy lightsaber too.

Burtt: Mr. Lloyd will come back for the reshoots on the condition that he gets to call Natalie Portman, "Your majesty," and has sex with her.

Lucas: Damn! Use the disappearing ink pen on his contract when he signs it!

Burtt: Mr. Park has requested that you take his double-edged lightsaber and insert it horizontally into your urethra.

Lucas: Tell him he can actually have more than two lines this time around.

Burtt: Mr. Best has agreed to reprise his role, but only if you can do something about the death threats he's received from nerds all over the world.

Lucas: What? What self-respecting Star Wars fan didn't find Jar Jar Binks incredibly charismatic and hysterical?

Burtt: And finally, Mr. Jackson wants his character to use a lightsaber, so he can, quote: "Bust open some mothafucka's heads."

Lucas (stunned): Sam said that?

Burtt: Yes. (He glances down the page.) Oh, I see. It says here that he's been shooting a new Tarantino movie for the past several months, and its taken quite a toll on his language. His publicist apologizes for any problems.

Lucas (holding his head): Oh lord… (He leans back in his chair and sighs.) Well, at least we can start working now. The Spice Girls were the easiest to get. All I had to do was mention…

Burtt: Sir?

Lucas: …and when the one with the hair heard me give the dollar amount, I swear, she called someone named "Bad T," asked for a price, then fainted right…

Burtt: Mr. Lucas?

Lucas: …said she'd probably work for donuts and cake, plus when…

Burtt: George? I'm going to leave in a second if you don't answer.

Lucas: …Portman, her eyes went so incredibly wide, and I swear, there was a string of drool on her…

Burtt (sighing): Later George. (He gets up and walks out of the room.)

Lucas: …swear I saw her in a magazine before, but the other one sucker punched her before I could…

(Months pass by. Lucas manages to get all of his original actors back on the set, as well as the Teenybopper Factors themselves. The problem is that, according to George Lucas, Fox has devoted most of the Star Wars franchise funding to Episodes II and III, thereby forcing George to cut costs wherever he can. Unfortunately, this means that each shot for the special edition was unrehearsed, and was shot on the first take, with minimal editing.)

(Premiere night: Hundreds of nerdy, male Star Wars fans and young, female Spice Girls fans gather in a crowded theater for the only event that would force such radically different groups to ever coexist with one another for a span of a couple hours. Several celebrities have gathered as well, and are being stopped and interviewed by various entertainment reporters as they walk into the theater.)

James Cameron: Oh, no, I'm not worried about this movie beating Titanic. No, I'm just here to see how badly George has screwed up. You see, I'm still king of the world. Where's your Oscar, George? Eh? Tell you what George, if you happen to catch this on a rerun, stop by sometime and I'll show you my Oscar. It'll probably be as close as you ever… (Suddenly, his watch starts beeping. He turns to the reporter.) Shit! What day is today?

Reporter: Er… Wednesday, I think.

Cameron: Damn! (He looks at his watch again.) I'm late for an appointment to cheat on my mistress with my other mistress. I'll call you to laugh when your movie bombs, George! (He yells the final sentence into the theater before running for a taxi.)

(Meanwhile, with another reporter and camera crew…)

Natalie Portman: No, I mean, it's the role of a lifetime, I got to be in Star Wars! Who wouldn't jump at a chance to…

Star Wars Geek #1: My queen! My heart doth lust after you like a Wamprat for the warm dunes of Ta…

Portman (turning away from the camera to yell): Shut up! (She looks back at the reporter and camera.) I mean, of course, there are a few drawbacks to being the female lead in a science fiction mo…

Star Wars Geek #2: Hey Natalie! How'd you like to wield my lightsaber tonight? Huh? Huh?

Portman (turning to face Geek #2): Damn it! Won't you all just leave me alone?!? It's a movie for Christ's sake! Get on with your lives! (She turns back to the reporter.) Now, as I was saying…

Star Wars Geek #3: Excuse me, Queen Amidala?

Portman (turning to yell again): No! I'm Natalie Portman! I played Queen Amidala in one stinking movie! For Christ's sake, I go to Harvard! Can't you give me just an ounce of respect or privacy?! (She turns to face the TV cameras again as the entire group of Star Wars nerds falls silent, realizing the error of their ways.) Now, before I go, I just wanted to mention my next movie. I'm working with this awesome director who…

Star Wars Geek #4 (arriving late): Hey, baby, I'm gonna be nice and let you guess whether or not this is a blaster in my pants pocket!

Portman (Through clenched teeth, her face in a twisted scowl of pure rage, she speaks but two words to the camera.): Excuse me. (She turns to face Geek #4, whose face has drained of all blood at the sight of Natalie Portman's sadistic sneer. Without another word passing between the two of them, Natalie leaps upon the doomed nerd, and in a flurry of smoke and profanity, she beats him senseless. He stumbles away bruised and battered, muttering something about Princess Leia giving it out for free back in the old days. Natalie dusts herself off, smiles, and addresses the reporter again.) Sorry about all that. Occupational hazard. Now, as I was saying…

(Off to the side, another reporter is wrapping up her report.)

Reporter: And so for Entertainment Tonight, I'm… (She is interrupted by a middle-aged man with dark blonde hair who taps her on the shoulder.) Umm… yes, can I help you?

Mark Hamill: Hi! I'm Mark Hamill!

Reporter: …Yes, I can see that.

Hamill: Well, don't you want to interview me?

Reporter: No, not really.

Hamill: You sure? I mean, you know, twenty-two years later, Luke Skywalker's at the premiere…

Reporter: No, I… I'm quite sure.

Hamill: Did I mention that I was in a movie called The Guyver a few years back?

Reporter: Look Mr. Hamill, we really don't have time for this. Why don't you go make a cheap video game or something?

Hamill: … (Mark Hamill waits in stunned silence for about five seconds, before grabbing the microphone out of the reporter's hand and screaming into the theater.) Damn you, George! I need the work! Come on, Zahn did all the work for you!

Reporter (yelling): Security!

Hamill: It's not like you'd even have to sit and write a new screenplay! Just use the books! Come on, Luke Skywalker's life has only just begun! Carrie and Harrison would do it!

Reporter (yelling louder): Security!!!

(Two huge men in black suits rush from the theater, pick Mark Hamill up by his shoulders, and drag him away from the theater, still kicking and screaming.)

Hamill: Hey! Get your hands off of me! I'm Luke Skywalker! I'll use the Force on your ass! Let go!

(The two men drop Hamill in the street. As he is getting up, a limousine plows into him, sending him hurtling forward at a great speed with a yelp. The limo stops directly in front of the theater. The large crowd gathered goes silent, and several photographers ready their cameras and aim at the stretched vehicle. George Lucas steps out.)

Rabid Star Wars Fans (in unison): Master!

Lucas (waving, then yelling into the limo): Jeeves, whoever that man was that we hit, send him a Naboo Starfighter model as recompense.

(James Cameron, late for an appointment with his mistress, pushes past Lucas coldly.)

Cameron: Sorry George old pal, but I need this more than you!

(He jumps into the limousine, pulls the door closed, and yells for the driver to speed off to some woman's house. There are two audible bumps, each one accompanied by an audible "Ouch!" as the vehicle's front tires, then its rear tires plow over Mark Hamill's pain-filled body. Lucas stares after the car coldly.)

Lucas (screaming and waving his fist): Cameron!!!

(Lucas proceeds into the theater as a large Union Jack bus drives a bit past the theater and over Hamill, then backs over Hamill again before stopping in front of the red carpet leading inside. The door opens, and the starlets themselves, the Spice Girls, step out.)

Ginger (to Posh): Of all the bloody things! Look at that poor man lying there in the street! You ran over him twice, you thick bitch!

Posh: Well excuse me! It's his fault for lying in the road like that. If he's been hit by a car already, the least he can do is get up and get himself to a hospital instead of making a bleeding mess of the road. (She glances at her fingernails, inspecting them closely.) Besides, it was my first time driving the bus.

Scary (dripping with sarcasm): Oh, that's a surprise! Where did you learn to drive? You couldn't even handle a stick shift!

Posh: I'll have you know I have a lot of experience with stick shifting!

Ginger: Your sex life doesn't count, dearie.

Sporty (adding her own two cents in a completely innocent manner): Well, I hate stick shifting.

(The other girls cast their usual glare at Sporty.)

Ginger: Hmm…

Sporty (completely oblivious to the double entendre): What?

Ginger: …nothing.

(Baby lets out a squeal of joy as the smell of fresh popcorn and candy snacks wafts through the air. Without a moment's hesitation, she charges into the theater without the other girls.)

Sporty (watching her run): Oh, that's right, we did come here for a reason, didn't we?

Scary: Right. Guess we'd better go in as well.

Ginger: One second. (She runs over to Mark Hamill's moaning body, and tosses two dollars and eighty-three cents on the ground in front of him.) Here. You need this more than I do. Go get yourself a shower and a shave.

Hamill (weakly): I don't need your pity! I can get any gig I want! I'm Luke… (He feebly grabs the money and stuffs it into his pocket.) Eh, who am I kidding?

(Hamill stands up and dusts himself off, letting out another moan as Ginger walks away. Just then, another limousine pulls up behind him, stopping mere inches from his legs. He turns around in time to see Leonardo DiCaprio stepping out of the car and rushing towards the theater. As he's about to rejoice that this car didn't actually hit him, the limo shifts into Drive and drives away, plowing into Hamill and leaving him clinging to the hood ornament for dear life.)

DiCaprio (running up to the girls): Lucas? Where's Lucas? (He yells.) George!

Scary: Calm down! He's in the theater already. The movie's about to start.

DiCaprio: Augh! I have to get to him quickly! My status as an overhyped, undertalented actor depends upon it!

(He runs into the theater frantically.)

Sporty (watching DiCaprio leave): Hey, she was cute! (Everyone stares at Sporty for a moment before doubling over in laughter.) What? Now what did I say? (Laughter.) You guys know I meant that in a purely heterosexual way, right? (More laughter.) Oh, fine, be that way!

(Just then, a short, obese, pre-pubescent girl charges from the crowd and runs to block the doorway. She seems to be fixated on Scary.)

Unidentified Teenybopper: MEL G! IT'S FUCKEN MEL G! YOU'RE MUH FUCKEN IDOL!

Scary: Oh. Oh dear.

Sporty: Young lady, you're blocking our way. We really have to get into the theater.

Unidentified Teenybopper (indignantly): FUCK YOU! I CAN DO WHAT I FUCKEN WANT THANKS TO MUH FUCKEN GIRL POWA! GIRL POWA! GIRL POWA! (She begins chanting at the top of her lungs.)

Posh: This cannot be good.

Ginger: It always sounded so… noble when we said it.

Sporty: Even when we didn't mean it?

Ginger: Like I said… when we said it.

Scary (to the teenybopper): Look, calm down! Do you want an autograph or something?

Unidentified Teenybopper (smiling brightly): I WANNA FUCK YOU MEL G! I'M NOT A VILE FUCKEN LESBO, BUT I WANT YOU BAD!

(Sporty's eyebrows rise, but wisely she doesn't say anything. Scary merely reaches inside her purse, searching for a pen and photograph.)

Scary: Well you can be damned sure there'll be none of that. (Scary casts a cold glance back to Sporty, who opens and closes her mouth as if she were about to say something, but thought better of it.) Now, what's your name so I can sign this and get it over with?

Unidentified Teenybopper: DON'T YOU WANT TO SEE MUH NEW BOOTS?

Scary (sighing): Not really.

(The teenybopper removes a purplish velvet boot from her foot, and holds it up, heel-side-up, to show Scary.)

Posh: Oh Lord! That's hideous!

Ginger: Yeah, almost as bad as the stuff you wear!

Posh: Bitch!

Ginger: Media whore!

(The two begin battling.)

Scary: Look, it's a nice boot, but just give me a name to sign this damned photo with so we can all get into the theater and suck up to the press.

Unidentified Teenybopper: MUH FUCKEN NAME IS VI…

(Suddenly, a woman from inside the theater yells urgently for security. Two incredibly large guards in tuxedos rush from the sidewalk and charge into the theater. The arm of one smacks right into Scary's back, sending her stumbling forward, directly onto the heel of the boot the teenybopper is holding. It impales her through the chest. The teenybopper is pinned under her weight, yelling and screaming. Ginger and Posh halt their quarrel.)


(The two guards rush out of the theater again, with a squirming Leonardo DiCaprio in their arms. His struggling forces the guards to stumble, and they accidentally trample the screaming teenybopper as they exit the theater. Her obnoxious, annoying head is caved in by an expensive Italian shoe. The guards merely keep escorting DiCaprio to the street, taking no notice of the pathetic life they just silenced.)

DiCaprio: Lucas, you fat bitch! Think about it! Darth Leo! It could work! I look like the damn Lloyd kid! Let me go, you oafs! (The guards pay no notice to DiCaprio's orders. He continues yelling back towards the theater, quite loudly.) I'll get you for this! I won't have you keep me from being in the top two movies of all time! (The guards toss Leo onto the street. Lucas's limo, with Mark Hamill still clinging to the hood ornament, backs into DiCaprio for no apparent reason other than gratuitous violence. His tie becomes caught underneath the car, and it speeds away, dragging him along the ground behind it. As the limo speeds away toward an unknown destination, DiCaprio and Hamill yell at the top of their lungs for George to reconsider!)

Posh (looking at her watch): This is all well and good, but don't we have to get inside to the premiere?

Ginger (stunned): You heartless bitch!

Posh (innocently): What?

Ginger (screaming): Mel just DIED! She got killed by some overweight rent-a-cop's elbow and some attention-starved idiot's boot heel! Aren't you the least bit shocked or saddened?

(Posh, noticing Scary's lifeless body, begins sobbing uncontrollably.)

Sporty (with a finger to her head, scratching in deep thought): I wonder how long it takes for rigor mortis to set in?

Ginger (completely ignoring Sporty): There, there Vic. It'll be okay. She's gone on to a better place!

Posh (in between sobs): <sniff> You mean… <sniff> the mall?

Ginger (sighing deeply): Er… something like that. (Posh lets out a fresh stream of tears.) Calm down! God, I've never seen you this upset. I didn't know you cared for Scary so much!

Posh (still crying): I'm not… <sniff> I'm thinking how much money we're going to lose because she's not in the group anymore!

Ginger (her face turning into that of slight revolt): Gee, you're all heart. Let's go inside.

(The girls step over the bodies and walk into the theater. They notice Baby squealing at the young guy behind the concession stand.)

Baby: Duh! Duh! Duhduhduhduhduhduh! (She is jumping up and down for emphasis, pointing at what she wants.)

Concession Stand Guy: For Christ's sake! I don't know what you want! Speak English!

Baby: Duh!

Guy: Look, legally I can hit you with the baseball bat I have back here if you're threatening me. Now either tell me what you want, or I'll…

Ginger (interrupting): Now, now, there's no need for that! (She grabs Baby and begins escorting her to the door of the Phantom Menace Special Edition screening room.) Give it up! Do you really want the Enquirer to publish more pictures of solid cellulite??

(Baby sighs, then proceeds with the girls into the theater, which is being overrun by rabid Star Wars fans and rabid Spice Girls fans. All over the theater, battles between Spice World dolls and plastic lightsabers are being conducted by children of various ages. Some of the older teenyboppers and more mature nerds have started sucking face in the back rows. Many of the celebrities in attendance are either attempting to maintain a low profile due to embarrassment, or are calculating the quickest route to the nearest exit. All in all, the theater is utter chaos thanks to the legion of screaming fans.)

Posh: Oh. My. God.

Ginger: I've seen worse!

Sporty: Worse? Worse than this?

Posh: Where could you have been that was worse than this? A Roman orgy?

Ginger: How'd you guess?

Baby: Tee hee! Tee hee hee!

Sporty: Well at least Baby seems happy to be here!

Ginger: Well why wouldn't she be? Look who's surrounding her! (She points to a group of giggling teenyboppers on her left.) Our fans in attendance have the same IQ as her. (She points to a group of obese Star Wars nerds arguing over whether or not the Enterprise D could kick the Death Star's ass.) And she looks like Kate Moss compared to them!

Posh: I feel like I'm getting a headache. Where are our seats?

Sporty: Down in front, with Mr. Lucas and the rest of the cast.

(They begin to walk down the labyrinth that is the aisle to the front of the theater.)

Posh (holding her head): Ugh!

Ginger: What's wrong? Chip a tooth?

Posh (staring coldly at her): Bitch! (holding her head again) It's all these children. I hate children.

Ginger: What are you talking about? You're the only one of us here who HAS a child!

Posh: What on Earth are you babbling about?

Ginger: You have a son! You got knocked up by David! You even gave the poor kid one of the worst names in the world!

(Posh, looking thoroughly confused, turns to Sporty, as if asking for some sort of acknowledgement.)

Sporty: She's right. Don't you remember? You spend insane amounts of money buying him designer baby clothes that he outgrows within two weeks.

Posh (realization dawning on her): Oh, HIM! And here all this time I thought it was a puppy!

(Ginger and Sporty exchange solemn glances.)

Ginger: There are so many things wrong with that that I don't know where to begin. (They reach the front of the theater.) Anyway, these are our seats.

(The girls sit down in their assigned seats, and George Lucas walks over to speak with them.)

Lucas: I'm so glad you could make it! Park almost cancelled on me after he found out I dubbed his lines again, and Best phoned to tell me that people are burning Jar Jar dolls in effigy on his front lawn, so he can't leave the house. At least some of my supporting cast had the decency to show up!

Posh: Excuse me, but who are you, and who are these people you're speaking of?

Lucas: …I made the movie you're in. (Silence.) You're at the premiere now. (Silence.) I'm the man who created Star Wars! (Still nothing. Lucas turns to Ginger.) Does she speak English?

Ginger: Same planet, different worlds, if you catch my drift. I think all the fumes from the leather dresses have warped her brain.

Lucas: Ah, that explains it. (He notices Rick McCallum motioning to him from one of the balcony seats.) Well, that's my cue. I have an opening speech to make!

(With all the grace that a man of his size can afford, Lucas pounces up to a podium set up in front of the screen to make his speech.)

Oblivious Star Wars Fan in the Middle Row (yelling): Hey, down in front!

Lucas: Ladies, gentlemen, and teenyboppers! It gives me great pleasure to welcome you all to the special edition of Episode I: The Phantom Menace! Or, as I like to call it, James Cameron Can Suck My Rich Dick.

(While Lucas enjoys a hearty laugh at his own joke, the movie theater is dead silent. Then…)

Teenybopper in the Back: Who's he talking about? Where's Britney?

Lucas (continuing): Now, as you may know, we used a… er… revolutionary film technique involving the use of only one take per shot with ad-libbed dialogue! All of you film students can appreciate the… uh… art inherent in this!

Film Student/Star Wars Buff (yelling): You went overbudget, didn't you?

Lucas (continuing): You know, I remember when I first made Star Wars. I was a young man at the tender age of…

McCallum (over a microphone in the back): Uh, George, wrap it up. We have to start the movie now, or else these kids will miss their curfew.

Lucas: …and I realized that I wanted to be a filmmaker! So I went to…

McCallum: George? Seriously, stop. Now.

Lucas: …told me to stick my script where the sun didn't shine. Well, I took my script and…

McCallum: Any day now George.

Lucas: …me a shot, so they gave me a few million dollars and some cheap actors and…

McCallum: George, we're going to start projecting the movie onto you if you don't move.

Lucas: …biggest movie of all time! Then, several years later, I decided I didn't have enough money, so I…

McCallum: I'm giving you until the count of five, George!

Lucas: …skyrocketed past Spielberg's E.T. crap, sending it straight to number one of all…

McCallum: George, shut up! Get off the podium!

Lucas: …all of a sudden, this Cameron guy comes along…

McCallum: One…

Lucas: …this pompous, arrogant…

McCallum: …two…

Lucas: …no good, cheating, no talent…

McCallum: …three…

Lucas: …wife cheating, "King of the World," my ass, who wishes he had as much…

McCallum (sighing heavily): …four…

Lucas: …in my middle finger as he has in his entire egotistical body…

McCallum: Screw him. Roll the film!

(The film reel begins rolling…)

Scene II: The Revised Phantom Menace

(The opening sequence, quite familiar to Star Wars fans, runs normally, with but a few notable exceptions. First and foremost is its shoddiness; the text that scrolls up the screen contains several mistakes that were either corrected by what appears to be an ink pen on the film strip or a piece of paper containing the revised words. Also notable is that Lucas seems to have used the very first draft of the script in this scene, evident only by the fact that the words "evil Chinese Communists" have been crossed out and replaced with the words "evil Trade Federation." And finally, the opening sequence informs us that the Jedi Council has not only dispatched a couple of Jedi Knights, but also five singers. No logical reason is given for this, but hey, it's Star Wars, right? In any case, it is obvious that every penny of the film's profits went into pre-production for Episode II, and this "Special Edition" was put together from a very low editing budget.)

(The scene pans downward to zoom in on a ship that is flying through space, approaching a vast network of droid battle stations. The camera switches to the ship's interior. Two figures in brown robes are standing at the helm, watching as the pilots make their approach.)

Voice #1 (from somewhere off-camera): You filthy whore! Well, your diaphragms probably look like the battle stations!

Voice #2 (also off-camera): At least I have the common sense to use one when I'm fucking my boyfriend in New York!

Voice #3 (yet again, off-camera): Girls, shut up! They're shooting!

Voice #2: Oh… shit.

Qui-Gon Jinn (to the pilot): Inform the Trade Federation that we are ready to dock.

(The pilot looks barely awake. She presses a button, and an image of a Neimoidian fills a small screen in front of her.)

Pilot (yawning): Um… we're, like, landing or something.

Neimoidian: Excellent! We will make special accommodations for you that will not involve poison gas or locked doors!

Qui-Gon: We understand.

Neimoidian: Excellent! And remember, no poison gas or locked doors whatsoever!

Qui-Gon: We heard you the first time.

Neimoidian: And no droids trying to kill you either!

(Qui-Gon sighs, and pounds the button on the panel that closes the transmission. The pilot lands the shuttle in the hangar bay of the main battle station, and seven figures exit the shuttle. They are escorted by a protocol droid to a small conference room with locks on the doors and vents in the floor. The droid leaves them to speak with its masters.)

Obi-Wan Kenobi: I have a bad feeling about this.

Scary: Oh, you little crybaby! This room is perfectly safe!

Posh: Besides, that nice Asian…

Lucas (his voice coming from off-stage): Neimoidian!

Posh: …er… Hemorrhoidian (There is an audible curse from off-camera.) told us that we would be perfectly safe!

Ginger: Those record executives once told us that we'd be "safe" taking that elevator with the missing pulley, remember?

Sporty: I don't trust them either.

Baby: Tee hee! Tee hee hee hee! Duh duh!

(The actors are completely silent for a span of ten seconds. Ewan McGregor silently mouths "Your line!" to Liam Neeson.)

Qui-Gon (surprised): What? That was my cue? No one told me one of them was going to sound less intelligible than a Sullustan! (Lucas utters an "Ahem!" from off-camera.) Oh, right. (He stands up straighter and recites his lines.) The negotiations will be brief. These Trade Federation people are cowardly at best.

(In the meantime…)

Droid: Oh yes, I'm sure they were Jedi Knights!

Nute Gunray: Jedi Knights!

Droid: Oh yes, and also five cyborgs!

Rune Haako: Those women did not look like cyborgs…

Droid: Well, my scanners picked up an incredible amount of artificial material all over their bod…

Nute Gunray: This is bad! We cannot stand against seven human beings with our mere army of hundreds of thousands of programmable, replaceable killing machines!

Rune Haako: What should we do?

Nute Gunray: Simple! We just call our boss!

(He presses a button on a control panel, and a holographic image of Senator Palpatine of Naboo making some sort of speech to the Galactic Senate on Coruscant pops up from the floor.)

Palpatine: …and that is why I fully support Jedi Knights…

Nute Gunray: Darth Sidious!

(Palpatine notices suddenly that he is on a holo-transmitter, and that the entire Senate can see and hear his conversation. He begins sweating.)

Palpatine (jovially): No, I'm sorry, there's no Darth here. You must have the wrong number! (He turns back to the Senate.) Now, as I was saying, I myself am a student of the Light Side of the Force…

Rune Haako: We did not dial incorrectly. We wish to speak with you, Darth Sidious, undisputed master of the Sith and channeller of the Dark Side.

Palpatine (turning back to the transmitter and speaking through clenched teeth in a low voice): Not… NOW! (He turns back to the Senate members, many of whom look visibly confused.) I am a humble man, with merely humble goals in life…

Nute Gunray: But oh master Sidious, this concerns your illegal, shady, and evil dealings and conspiracies with us against the helpless people of Naboo, whom you represent as a façade so that you can gradually take over the Senate, declare yourself supreme ruler, build a galactic empire, enslave the galaxy, and build a gigantic battle station the size of a moon that can easily wipe out a planet like Alder…

Palpatine (interrupting, and with incredible rage and embarrassment): SHUT UP! (He turns back to the Senate again.) Excuse me ladies and gentlemen… and… uh… (He notices some Mon-Calamari watching him thoughtfully.) miscellaneous, but I must DEAL with this wrong number.

(Palpatine walks away from the Senate chamber and down a corridor. He rounds a corner, looks both ways, then produces a dark cloak, which he puts on. A hood obscures most of his face, but thanks to Ian McDiarmid's recognizable profile and facial features, no one in the audience is surprised.)

Rune Haako: My lord! This is a most urgent manner!

Palpatine/Sidious (looking extremely pissed-off): Which one of you called me?

Nute Gunray: Why, I pressed the button on the holo-transmitter, my lord.

(The words are barely out of his mouth when Sidious raises his hand and gestures as if he were clutching something. The Neimoidian's eyes widen considerably, and he reaches for his crotch in pain. Sidious's hand begins to close gradually, and as it closes an audible crunching noise is emanating from Nute's groin, and judging by the expression on his face, it is not a pleasant experience. Sidious rotates his wrist counterclockwise, which produces a snapping noise, then quickly pulls backward. Hard. Accompanying the painful-sounding pop that emerges from the alien's crotch, he is thrown through the air, crotch first, and hits the wall of the communications room. A high-pitched, girlish squeak escapes his lips as he clutches at his ruined manhood in excruciating pain. Sidious lowers his hand and looks at Rune.)

Sidious: You were saying?

Rune Haako: Uh, yes, there seems to be a problem with the negotiations. You see, the Council dispatched two Jedi Knights and a female pop group to oversee the release of the embargo on Naboo.

Sidious: So kill them.

Rune Haako: You… you want us to kill seven people, my liege? Two of which are Jedi?

Sidious: Do you have a hearing problem? Yes! I trust your competence completely! No one can ever overestimate a Jedi Knight! They're easy targets!

Nute Gunray (walking slowly across the room, clutching his groin): We understand, my lord. (His voice sounds like it has been infused with helium.)

(The holo-transmission ends.)

Sidious: Suckers.

(Meanwhile, in the conference room…)

Ewan McGregor (to Scary): …wasn't real! I've never even tried heroin! It was just a bloody movie!

Lucas (offstage): Ahem! Action!

Obi-Wan: Oh… shit. So, Master Qui-Gon, did I mention I had a bad feeling about this?

Qui-Gon: Several times, my young Padawan. But as I said before, this should go smoothly.

Posh: Ginger's told her clients that in the past, but I hear it's like worn sandpaper down there!

Baby: Tee hee hee!

Ginger: Shut it, bitch!

Obi-Wan: So, I suppose if all is going well that we should ignore the noxious gases that have suddenly appeared in the room?

(The girls all turn to look at Scary.)

Scary (innocently): What? It wasn't me! I left my pipe at the hotel.

Qui-Gon: It's toxic gas! It seems to be coming…

Posh: …out of the vents in the floor! The toxic gas is coming out of the floor!

Qui-Gon: …Yes, I was about to say that. Please don't steal my lines.

Sporty: Ha! She did this throughout Spice World. She has the least amount of acting talent among us, but she tried to stick her nose in the spotlight as often as possible.

Scary: That's funny… one could almost say the same thing about your solo career!

Sporty (ready to leap): Why… you high bitch!

(Sporty lunges at Scary, and the two begin brawling. Offstage, George Lucas is cursing up a blue streak. Liam Neeson and Ewan McGregor are merely standing there, perplexed.)

Ginger (watching enthusiastically): You know, now I see why they get such a kick out of it when we do this!

Posh: Yes, it is quite fun to watch. Who do you think will win?

Ginger: Oh, I think Scary has the upper hand. All those chemicals have made her stronger and more numb to pain.

Posh: Yes, but look at the way Sporty goes for the torso. It's as if there's something she wants badly underneath Mel's shirt!

Ginger: No, Scary will win.

Posh: And I say Sporty will win!

Ginger: Fuck off!

Posh: Fuck you!

(The two begin having a slugfest of their own. Neeson and McGregor merely watch in amazement.)

Neeson: I can't say I've ever been on such a huge project with such terrible production values.

McGregor: Me neither. Is that camera still rolling? (He looks directly at the camera.)

Neeson: Yes. Looks like they got it out of a flea market. Damned thing won't stop rolling.

McGregor: And you'd think with George kicking it like that that it would have stopped by now!

(The two listen as sounds of a large machine getting beaten by a shoe, coupled with quite a bit of cursing, come from off-camera. It soon stops, as the sound of footsteps accompanies more cursing.)

Neeson: Ah, see, now he's going to find the plug for the camera and pull it.

(McGregor has taken to watching the girls fight.)

McGregor (to Baby): So, who usually wins these brawls?

Baby: Duh!

McGregor (turning back to Neeson): Well, that was fruitless. Who's your money on?

Neeson: I think the lesbian and the red-head are going to beat the other two like Ireland's football team against Scotland.

McGregor: No, no, you see, the expensive one and the pierced one are going to beat the shit out of the others like Scotland against Ireland on any day of the week!

Neeson (looking McGregor in the eye): And I say that Ireland could whip the hell out of Scotland with one leg tied behind them!

McGregor: They could have both legs tied up and still kick the living shite out of that pathetic Irish team!

Neeson: Bitch!

McGregor: Asshole!

(As the camera mercifully switches scenes, Neeson and McGregor begin beating each other to the ground, shouting out various obscenities. Baby merely stands, facing the camera and giggling.)

(The scene switches to a large group of droids with guns waiting outside the door.)

Droid Soldier: Sir, do you think we should open the doors yet?

Droid Commander: Open 'em up! That gas has been flowing for about twenty seconds. No one can hold their breath that long!

Droid Soldier: Roger, roger!

(The droid obediently pushes the buttons to open the sealed room, while the others stand ready with their blasters aimed at the door. A large puff of smoke escapes the room, and seven glowing lightsabers can be seen igniting inside.)

Droid Commander: Quick! Fire at their lightsabers!

(A volley of blaster fire opens up at the Jedis and pop stars, and each shot is skillfully returned to its origin through the use of special effects. Well, okay, not very good special effects. There are strips of tape visible on the projected film strip.)

Qui-Gon (after all the droids are destroyed): Now, let's find the Trade Federation leaders and give them a stern warning!

(The group marches down the hallway towards the bridge of the battlestation.)

Rune Haako: Oh no! They have escaped the droids and the gas! What are we going to do?

Nute Gunray: Seal the bridge doors!

Rune Haako: Are you insane? They'll get through!

Nute Gunray: Nonsense! Their lightsabers are no match for our… metal doors!

(The doors seal shut promptly. Shortly, a lightsaber blade sinks through the door and begins cutting a hole.)

Rune Haako: This is what you call a match?!

Nute Gunray: I thought if I wanted it badly enough, it would happen! (He turns to an intercom.) Send in the destroyer droids!

(Two spherical shapes begin rolling down the hallway towards the group.)

Posh: Eek!

Ginger: Wow… that's the biggest pair of balls I've ever seen!

Obi-Wan: Master, look! Destroyer droids! Should we attack them before they stop, erect their shields, and open fire at us?

Qui-Gon: No, let's wait for them to attack.

Obi-Wan: But…

Qui-Gon: Do not question my judgement, Obi-Wan!

(The droids stop, erect their shields, and open fire at the seven singers/Jedi. Everyone is pushed backwards trying to avoid the barrage of laser fire.)

Scary: Let's slash the hell out of those things with our light swords!

Qui-Gon: No, we should run!

Sporty: No, really, I think she has a point… why don't we just go up there and cut them to pieces?

Qui-Gon: Because we're supposed to run this way!

Obi-Wan: What if we used the Force like we did with the other droids? That way, they'd be…

Qui-Gon: NO! Damn you all, the script says we're supposed to RUN!

Everyone: Oh…

(Everyone runs away from the droids quickly. They meet in the main hangar of the station.)

Posh (looking at the massive ships and expensive containers cluttering the hangar bay): Oh my, there are so many things in here! Is someone getting married?

Qui-Gon: Since it's obvious by now to everyone that the Naboo people are in danger…

Baby: Tee hee hee!

Qui-Gon: Okay, almost everyone… (He casts a quick glance at Baby.) We should stow away on separate ships and meet up on the planet surface!

Posh: Excuse me, but why separate ships?

Qui-Gon: Because Obi-Wan and I want to spend as little time as possible around you five.

(The scene switches to the planet. A huge droid battletank is pushing its way through the trees, sending several animals scattering and fleeing for their lives. A lone Qui-Gon Jinn runs ahead of the tank, trying to save himself. Ahead of him is a creature standing on two legs, with orangish-pink skin, long floppy ears, a long snout, and an annoying voice. Conversing with this creature is none other than Baby Spice.)

Baby: Duh! Tee hee! Tee hee!

Jar Jar Binks: Meesa see! Okeeday! Tee hee!

Qui-Gon (running and yelling): Get the hell out of the way, you idiots! There's a huge tank coming! Run!

Jar Jar (screaming like a girl): Ah! Meesa gonna stand here like doo-doo head and let da tank hit me!

(Qui-Gon leaps for Baby and Jar Jar, ensnaring each in an arm. He tumbles to the ground just as the mighty tank hovers above and past them. After it has passed, they all stand up and dust themselves off.)

Jar Jar: Yousa saved Jar Jar's life! Meesa gonna be your servant for all a' yoursa life!

Qui-Gon: Saved? SAVED? You could have run like everything else in this blasted forest! Instead you just stood there like a whimpering little bi…

Obi-Wan (running from the forest): Master!

Qui-Gon: Obi-Wan! Thank goodness you're safe! (He looks around, seeing no sign of anyone else.) Oh dear. The other girls didn't make it?

Scary (stepping out from behind some bushes with the other Spice Girls): Nope, we're all here and in one piece!

Qui-Gon (under his breath): Damn!

Ginger (pointing to the North): Look out! It's one of those flying droid things!

(Qui-Gon pulls out his lightsaber just in time, as the flying droid unleashes a few blaster shots at the group. Skillfully, Qui-Gon deflects three of the shots… directly into Jar Jar's chest. He deflects the remaining shots back at the ship, which promptly crashes into a tree. Lucas's voice can be heard off-camera as he curses Liam Neeson for not following the script.)

Obi-Wan (looking at Jar Jar's roasted corpse): Oh, that is quite a shame. Imagine the probability that of all the places for those blaster shots to deflect to, it hit that poor, annoying creature directly in a vital area! What a tragic accident.

Qui-Gon: Yes, a… "tragic… accident…"

Lucas (off-camera, as always): Cut! CUT! MEDIC!

(The scene reverts to the same scenery and actors via a badly done film edit. Jar Jar seems to be alive and well, much to the chagrin of everyone else.)

Ginger (whispering to Jar Jar): Psst… didn't you die in the last scene?

Jar Jar: No, no. Meesa only badly burned!

(There is a long pause, as none of the actors speak any lines.)

Lucas (oh, hell, you know where Lucas is by now: off-camera): Best! It's your fucking line!

Jar Jar: Oh, shitsa! (He clears his throat.) For saving meesa life, meesa gonna help you free Naboo peoples from da bad guys. Weesa can go see 'em Mr. Boss Nass in da Gungan City to get to da other side of da planet!

Sporty (sarcastically): Oh joy. More of them.

Jar Jar: Follow meesa!

(Jar Jar jumps into a nearby lake, and everyone follows. Soon, they are approaching a vast underwater city populated by creatures just as annoying as their Gungan guide. There seems to be no visible entrance upon first approach.)

Posh (slightly muffled by being underwater): Hmm… no door. (She gets an idea.) I know! I'll make one! (She produces her lightsaber, which glows a bright pink, and carves a hole through the fragile wall protecting the Gungan City. Gallons upon gallons of water, metal, and glass rush in and flood the city. Hundreds of helpless, annoying Gungans are killed by the ensuing deluge of chaos. The entire city's foundation begins collapsing, and it soon begins sinking to the bottom of the ocean like the Titanic did in a certain recent movie…)

Posh (oblivious): Damn, I think this stupid light blade made me chip a nail.

Lucas (screaming at the top of his lungs, although he sounds as if he is underwater as well): Cut! CUT! CUT!!!

(The screen, once again thanks to a cheap and bad edit, changes to the image of our heroes, and Jar Jar, walking through one of the near-invisible doorways into the Gungan city. The entire city is covered in layers of duct tape, concrete, and glue, and it seems slightly tilted to one side.)

Posh (taking off her breathing apparatus): Damn. I did chip a nail after all!

Ginger: You heartless bitch! You killed about two hundred extras and sunk the most expensive set in movie history! And you're worried about chipping your nail?!

Posh: Well, it was an expensive manicure!

Gungan Guard: Jar Jar Binks! Yousa no allowed here! Da Boss Nass will have-ah yousa executed!

Jar Jar: Boss Nass can suck meesa balls!

Lucas: Stick to the script! This is supposed to be a PG movie!

Gungan: Yousa comin' with me, Jar Jar Binks!

Jar Jar: Aw, doo-doo!

(Jar Jar is led away to be dealt with by the Gungans.)

Qui-Gon: Finally! He's gone!

Lucas: You wish!

Obi-Wan (talking to Lucas from on-camera): What?

Ginger: He just got led away to be executed or something!

Scary: He should be dead!

Lucas: Read the script!

(Liam Neeson pulls a thick pile of bound pages out from behind his Jedi robes and flips through it. He pauses about twenty pages into it.)

Neeson: Shite!

Sporty: What?

Neeson: We have to go save him, because he's somehow integral to the plot.

Posh: Oh my! I hope I don't break another nail.

(The scene switches to the interior of Boss Nass's office/throne room/whatever you want to call it.)

Qui-Gon: So you see, we require some sort of transportation to the other side of the planet to save the Naboo people.

Boss Nass: Hmm… (He scratches his chin.) Meesa no want to help yousa.

Obi-Wan: But surely you realize the…

Qui-Gon (to Obi-Wan): It's okay. We can use the Force on him.

Ginger: Actually, I've got a better idea. If you six would kindly step out of the room for a moment, I'll get your ship.

(Confused, the two Jedi and other Spice Girls exit Boss Nass's throne room. Ginger shuts the door behind them. A few yelps and groans soon follow from inside the room, and after exactly one minute and forty-three seconds, Ginger opens the door and invites everyone back into the room. Her face is drenched in thick Gungan saliva.)

Posh (to Ginger): New makeup?

Boss Nass: This-ah one has… convinced meesa to help yousa out.

Qui-Gon: Excellent! And what is to become of Jar Jar Binks.

Boss Nass (shaking his head violently, producing several strings of saliva): Jar Jar be executed in da morning!

Scary: Yippee!

Qui-Gon: Is there any way we can convince you to release him?

Boss Nass (defiantly): No!

Ginger (sighing): Well, here we go again. This won't take long.

(Posh sighs.)

Posh: Is he really necessary?

Qui-Gon & Lucas (simultaneously): It's in the script.

Posh: Very well, I'll handle this one. He is a king or something after all. I'm sure he's loaded…

Ginger: Actually, he only pays in seaweed.

Posh: Oh. Shit. Well then, go on and screw his brains out. If I want seaweed I'll go through my makeup supplies.

(Once again, Ginger escorts the group out the door, moans in disgust, and closes the door. There is much less noise this time around, and exactly three minutes and eight seconds later, Ginger opens the door and informs everyone that she has gotten Jar Jar released under their care as well. Her face, this time, is clean.)

Scary (patting Ginger on the shoulder): I'm sorry you had to do that, Geri. Lucas can be a real dick when it comes to realism.

Lucas: I heard that!

Sporty (asking Ginger and Scary as she walks back in): So, uh, how do you think one gets to be a Gungan leader anyway?

All: Shut up!

Obi-Wan (to Ginger, as he walks by): Well, on the bright side, you don't have a layer of his spit all over your face! (Ginger merely glances downward, and Obi-Wan follows her glance. A large puddle of saliva is dripping to her feet, forming a puddle in the spot where she is standing.) Oh. Oh dear God. I'm so sorry.

Boss Nass: Meesa change mind again! Yousa take Jar Jar wit' you to da other side of da planet.

(The scene switches to one of those nifty little Gungan submarines. Obi-Wan is deftly piloting the ship through underwater caverns in the center of the planet, conveniently avoiding those pesky molten-hot cores that normally exist in the center of a planet.)

Jar Jar: So then, meesa kick da guard in da balls, and meesa escaped wit' meesa life!

Qui-Gon: Jar Jar?

Jar Jar: Huh?

Qui-Gon: You didn't escape. We negotiated your release.

Jar Jar: Oopsie! Well, exqueeze me!

Sporty: You know, the stench of fish in this water is almost unbearable.

Posh: Oh, that's not the water. It's Ginger. That smell pops up every time she's in close proximity!

Ginger: What?!

Posh: You heard me, whore!

Ginger: Bitch!

(The two begin struggling in the tiny ship, rocking it back and forth and causing its sides to scrape along a cavern wall.)

Jar Jar: Oh no! Weesa gonna die!

Qui-Gon: Patience, Jar Jar…

(Scary finally stands up, and pulls the two girls apart. She holds each at arm's length by their collars.)

Scary: Now you listen here! I haven't had a fix in five FUCKING DAYS thanks to this FUCKING movie! Now you two SHUT the FUCK UP!

(She brings her arms together, knocking Posh and Ginger's heads into each other's, knocking both unconscious. Scary sits back down and folds her arms across her chest.)

Qui-Gon: You see? There's always a bigger bitch.

(The ship emerges in a river of the Naboo capital. Soon, the scene switches to the queen and her advisors being led somewhere by a group of droids. Our eight heroes sneak up, pull out their lightsabers, and tear the droids to pieces.)

Queen Amidala: Who are you?

Qui-Gon: My name is Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is Obi-Wan, my apprentice, and Jar Jar Binks, who owes me a life debt.

Amidala (looking at the Spice Girls): And them?

Obi-Wan: Oh, they're just here so that legions of mindless teenyboppers will come to see this movie when it's re-released.

General Panaka: My queen, we must get you to safety! These Jedi and… uh… singers are obviously here to rescue you!

Amidala: I cannot leave my people.

Governor Bibble: Nay, my queen, you must! Leave me in charge!

Panaka: He's right! Leave him in charge. No one in the theater cares one way or the other about his character!

Amidala: Hmm… well, you're right. We must hurry, then. Bring my serving girls with me, none of whom are my exact physical duplicate.

(The group makes its way towards the main shuttle bay, where the queen's ship is waiting. As the doors open, they see a group of droids on patrol inside.)

Posh (stiffly, as if reading from a cue card): Oh my. There are battle droids in the hangar bay.

Ginger (whispering sarcastically): Brilliant. The Academy should recognize you and tell Meryl Streep to piss off.

Posh (beaming): Really? And they said I wouldn't make a good Charlie's Angel!

Ginger (under her breath): Assuming Charlie was a pimp, yeah…

Posh: Hmm?

Ginger: Nothing!

Qui-Gon: If you two are finished, we have some more droids to destroy!

Scary (sarcastically): Oh joy. We get to slash some droids with our laser sticks. Whoopee. We haven't done that before.

Lucas: Stick… to… the… script!

(The droids are hacked to pieces easily by the seven warriors. Everyone boards the Naboo ship, which promptly flies out of the hangar and out of the atmosphere.)

Obi-Wan: Oh my! Look at all those droid battlestations! We'll never get past them!

Captain Tarpals: Yes we will! We have a bunch of robotic trashcan droids that can be used as decoys!

(A laser bolt rips through the shields and damages the defensive systems.)

Amidala: If you want to keep your job, Captain, I'd suggest we deploy those repair droids now.

Tarpals: Right, right. Bossy bitch.

(He presses a button on his console, and three R2 units unhook themselves from their battery chargers and get launched to the top of the ship to begin repair work. One of these droids runs over Jar Jar's foot on its way out, then shocks him with a small electrical device, then headbutts him in the groin. Jar Jar passes out, much to everyone's delight.)

Obi-Wan: I have to invest in one of those droids…

(Two of the droids get shot off the ship by stray laser fire. The shields don't seem to want to work properly. Finally, the last R2 unit opens up one of its panels, and a large, open-palmed mechanical hand springs out. It smacks the shield generator several times, while a tape-recorded voice specifically designed for this type of situation plays from inside the droid's speakers: "Work, you whore! God damn you! Cheap American shield generator!" After a few hard smacks, the shield generator begins working, and the R2 unit gleefully beeps and returns to its place inside the ship. On the way back to its battery charger, it runs over Jar Jar again, just for the hell of it.)

Tarpals: He did it! That little pile of scrap metal saved our lives!

(The ship flies past the blockade, and enters hyperspace. Meanwhile, inside the main droid battlestation…)

Nute Gunray: Weesa in deep doo-doo.

(Back to the Naboo ship, in the queen's chamber…)

Panaka: So you see, this droid saved our lives.

Amidala: Ah, then we should reward it by not salvaging it for scrap metal within the next couple of years! What is its insignia, as if we didn't already know?

Panaka: Why, it's R2-D2!

(The droid beeps merrily at the sound of its designation.)

Amidala: Thank you, R2-D2. You have my gratitude!

Sporty: Hey, I remember R2! He was Luke Skywalker's droid!

Lucas: Oh no…

Scary: Yeah, that's right! It was him and that C-3PO robot!

Lucas (trying to whisper discreetly from off-camera): It hasn't happened yet!

Ginger: Eh?

Lucas: This is a prequel!

Posh: Look, Mr. Director, I don't know who you're trying to kid, but those movies came out a long time ago.

Baby: Tee hee!

Lucas: Yes, I know! I made them! And this is a prequel to those movies!

Scary: A what?

Lucas: They haven't happened yet!

Ginger: No, see, they have! One came out in 1977, and the next one came out in…

(While all of this is going on, the real scene continues…)

Qui-Gon: So you see, we only have enough engine power to get us to this planet called Tatooine.

Obi-Wan: It's a planet run by the Hutts. There will probably be junk dealers who can sell us a spare engine.

Amidala: How convenient.

Panaka: Will we find any enslaved children with Force powers to set free?

Qui-Gon: No, I doubt it. Why, the odds of finding one slave child with Force powers on such a large planet would be astronomical. No, I believe this will be a completely routine trek.

Amidala: Good. Padmé! (One of the servant girls behind her, who looks exactly like the queen, steps forward.) Clean up this droid, and keep trying to convince the audience that we are not the same person.

Padmé: Yes, Padmé… er… I mean, Queen Amidala. Damn, I always get us mixed up. (She laughs nervously as everyone stares at them, then shuffles off with the droid to clean it.)

(Back on Naboo…)

Bibble: You'll never get me to talk! I'll serve the queen until my dying day!

Nute Gunray: You will convince her to sign the treaty, or you will be tortured!

Bibble (after spitting at the Neimoidian): Do your worst!

Nute Gunray: Guards! (Two droids run up to him.) Take Governor Bibble to… the Hanson Chamber!

Bibble (complete and utter horror etched on his face): No. No! Anything but the Hanson Chamber! Please! Please!!!

(Bibble is dragged away to a pair of large metal doors. The droids open the doors and throw Bibble into the room. The faint sound of children singing "Where's the love? It's not enough." Is released from the room for but a moment before the doors are slammed shut and locked. Just then, a holo-transmission from Darth Sidious pops up in front of Nute Gunray and Rune Haako.)

Both (at the same time): My lord!

(Sidious looks around for a bit.)

Sidious: Where is the queen? I told you to have her bathed, manicured, and dressed in the manner of a Catholic schoolgirl by this time today!

Nute Gunray: Well… my lord… there is a small problem.

Sidious: She doesn't like her hair in a ponytail?

Rune Haako: Worse than that, my master! She has escaped!

Sidious: What?!

Nute Gunray: She was in a ship that flew past our defenses and jumped into hyperspace before we could destroy it.

Darth Sidious: This is most unfortunate. I will have to send my evil looking apprentice, Darth Maul, to set things right.

(Darth Maul, everyone's favorite useless character, steps into the holo-transmission.)

Rune Haako: Oh no. Just what we need, another chatterbox!

Sidious: No, no, I'm afraid that Darth Maul doesn't say or do much of anything except look imposing and produce wonderful merchandise. In fact, you won't even have to hear his voice, since all of his speech will be dubbed!

(Sidious ends the transmission. The two Neimoidians do not look very happy.)

(Meanwhile, the Naboo ship has landed in Tatooine…)

Posh: I'm telling you, he beeped at me first! (She punches Ginger.)

Ginger: And I'm telling you, he beeped at me, then popped this cylindrical thing out of his head! (Ginger hits Posh's face with her own fist.)

(Hearing all the commotion, everyone on the ship runs into the droid storage room, where Posh and Ginger are beating the crap out of each other.)

Baby: Tee hee hee hee!

Scary: Shit, they're at it again! Sporty, you grab Posh! I'll grab Ginger! Don't let them near each other.

Sporty: With pleasure!

(They each grab their respective girl, and pull the two apart violently. Shreds of clothing are buried under Ginger's nails, and shreds of makeup are buried under Posh's. Posh doesn't seem to notice the pair of hands cupping her breasts tightly.)

Posh: I'll get that bitch! You two can't stop me!

Ginger: Come and get some, whore! I'll rip your teeth out!

Qui-Gon: Calm down! What's going on?

Obi-Wan: Were you two arguing over… the droid??

(Posh and Ginger hang their heads in shame.)

Panaka: That's disgusting!

Scary: Don't be surprised. They do this all the time when someone saves their lives. They fight over who gets to sleep with the hero, as if it's some sort of obligation.

Sporty: Don't even get us started on the time they thought a ninety-year old truck driver saved their lives by not hitting them on the highway. "Unidentified Man Found Dead in Hotel Room of Heart Attack." Boy, that was an unsightly mess.

Lucas: Ahem!

Sporty: Oh, right, the script.

Ginger (wiping a spot of blood from her chin): So, I guess we should go into the nearby city and find a hyperdrive engine from a junk dealer, huh?

Qui-Gon: An excellent idea! But some of us should wait here while the rest of us go into town.

Obi-Wan: Yes, you Spice Girls will be staying here while Qui-Gon and I…

(A thick script flies into the scene from off-camera and hits Ewan McGregor in the head.)

Lucas: Read, you moron!

(Ewan thumbs through a few pages, reads, and looks off-camera.)

Ewan: WHAT? Do we HAVE to?

Lucas: At least two!

Ewan: Shit. (He tosses the script off-camera again. It hits something with a dull thud.)

Lucas: Ow!

Obi-Wan: I've changed my mind. Qui-Gon will be bringing… uh… (He picks randomly.) The stupid one, the gay one, and the hot one.

Sporty: I am not gay!

Posh (stepping forward): Well, I'm flattered that you want me to go down to this planet, but I…

Obi-Wan: What? No, I didn't choose you.

Ginger (sticking her tongue out at Posh): He means me!

Obi-Wan: Nope.

Scary: Me?

Obi-Wan: No, you idiots! The queen!

Amidala: No, I'm afraid I cannot go to the planet with you. However, my handmaid, Padmé will accompany you.

(A handmaid who looks exactly like the queen steps forward.)

Qui-Gon: Ah, right. Your exact physical duplicate.

Amidala: She is not! We… we look nothing alike!

Scary: No, he's right dear. Why, she could pass for your official decoy… or vice versa!

Amidala: No! She's much older than me! And her eyes are more hazel than brown! (She looks frustrated.) General Panaka, tell them!

Panaka: Now that you mention it, you two do look an awful lot ali… (She steps down on his foot with great force. He whimpers.) No resemblance at all, my queen!

Amidala: Good. Now, the queen will accompany you to the junk dealer. (Everyone stares at her, eyebrows raised.) I mean my handmaid! My handmaid!

Panaka: Might I suggest taking one of the two girls that bicker with each other? I'd rather not have to repaint that section of the ship again after yesterday's incident…

Qui-Gon: Ugh. (He looks back and forth between Posh and Ginger.) We'll take the one with dark hair. I'm sure at least some part of her has resale value that can go towards buying a new hyperdrive.

Posh: Excuse me? The weather out there is a dry heat, and I'm afraid my moisturizer has been running low lately. (Qui-Gon, Padmé, Jar Jar, Sporty, Baby, and R2 begin walking down the exit ramp.) Hey! Don't walk away when I'm speaking! I'm rich and important!

Ginger: Get down the ramp, you silly bitch!

(Ginger shoves Posh down the ramp. She somersaults and lands on the ground, covering her black dress with sand.)

Posh: You filthy whore! (She stands up and looks down at her ruined dress.) Why, I never!

Ginger: Never what? Given one of your children a normal name?

Posh: Why you…!

(She charges back towards the ramp, but Ginger quickly presses a button that lifts the ramp back up to the ship. Posh's last glimpse of Ginger is that of her flipping her off.)

Qui-Gon (yelling): Hey Splash, or whatever the hell your name is! Get over here! We have some very important things to do in the next scene!

(Begrudgingly, Posh stumbles after the sextet already on their way to Mos Espa. After a few moments, they all arrive in a vast merchant city in the middle of the desert. They stand at the edge of the city for a few moments to take in its glory.)

Posh (to Sporty, who is silent): No homoerotic remarks about the local female population and your own sexual fantasies?

Sporty: Not really. I can't tell the females from the males in most of these species. (There is a long pause.) And I am not gay!

Baby: Duh!

Jar Jar: Yousa friend is right! Weesa should get outta here as soon as possible!

Padmé: You can understand her?

Jar Jar: Sure! She speaka da Gungan native language!

Qui-Gon: Your native language consists of giggles and drooling statements of stupidity? (Jar Jar nods vigorously.) Why am I not surprised?

Padmé: That looks like a junk dealer over there. Maybe he'll have what we're looking for.

(Padmé is referring to Watto's shop, a small business a bit down the street. Inside…)

Watto: God damn this thing!

(A nearby maintenance droid beeps a question at Watto, who is busily cursing out an ancient computer program that is running on an old video console on his desk.)

Watto: It's a piece of shit! It makes the screen turn blue all the time, it doesn't do what it's supposed to, and that son of a bitch who sold it to me charged me too much!

(The droid beeps another question at Watto.)

Watto: "Windows 98," or something to that effect.

(Just then, the seven intrepid heroes enter the junk shop.)

Qui-Gon: Hello? We are looking for the proprietor of this establishment…

(Watto flies over to them. He takes a glance at Posh.)

Watto: Sorry, I don't buy those. You might want to check with Julio down the street, eh?

Posh: I beg your pardon!

Qui-Gon: No, we're not here to sell her. We want to buy a T-14 hyperdrive.

Watto: Ah, a T-14 hyperdrive! Well, conveniently you wandered into the only store on this planet that has one, eh?

Padmé: My, that is an unlikely coincidence!

Watto (yelling): Boy!

(A young boy runs into the room. He looks to be about nine years old, though his haircut suggests that he was born in the seventies.)

Anakin: Now what do you want? I already cleaned the septic tank twice today!

Watto: Stay here and watch the shop! I have to go swindle this man out of his possessions!

Qui-Gon (noticing Jar Jar staring at the maintenance droids): And don't you touch anything!

Jar Jar: Meesa be good!

Qui-Gon (noticing Posh looking at a cylindrical object on one of the shelves): Don't you touch anything either!

Posh: Fine. I already have one anyway.

Qui-Gon (noticing Sporty trying to determine the gender of the protocol droid standing in the corner): And no having sex with strange droids!

Sporty: I was just looking for its… uh… access port!

Qui-Gon (noticing Baby standing in the middle of the shop, drooling and giggling): And don't… uh… (He waves his hand dismissively at her.) Ah, forget it.

(Qui-Gon follows Watto out the back door of the junk shop. Anakin takes a seat on a bench inside, and looks at everyone.)

Anakin (to Padmé): Are you an angel?

Padmé: A what?

Anakin: An angel? A lot of the drunks down at the cantina talk about them. They say they're the most beautiful creatures in the galaxy!

Padmé (smiling): Stupid little boy. I'm not an angel. I'm a queen. (There is a long pause.) I mean… I'm a handmaid! A handmaid!

Anakin: I'm going to fly away from here someday. But Watto owns my mom and me.

Padmé: You're a slave?

Anakin: No, you idiot. I'm a person, and my name is Anakin!

Padmé: Well excuse me! You sure sound like a slave to me!

(Anakin turns to look at Posh. She has the tapered end of the cylindrical object in her mouth. When she notices the boy looking in her direction, she quickly pulls it out and replaces it on the shelf.)

Anakin: Are you a demon?

Posh: A what?

Anakin: A demon. Everyone at the cantina says they're evil creatures without emotion who've sold their souls in exchange for passing beauty and minimal talent, yet incredible fame.

Posh: Your friends at the cantina should piss off! That's as far from the truth as… (She glances down at her hands.) My NAILS! Oh no! I chipped a nail AGAIN! ARGH!

Anakin (looking at Sporty, who is still searching the protocol droid with her hands): Are you a lesbian?

Sporty: I bloody well am NOT!

Anakin: Oh. Everyone at the cantina says they could be pretty, but instead they make themselves look like men to pick up women.

Sporty: And I suppose your bloody friends at the cantina know where to find these… er… aberrations of nature?

Anakin: Yes.

Sporty: Oh. Where is this cantina exactly? (Posh smacks her in the back of the head.) OW!

Posh: We don't have time for this!

(In the meantime, Jar Jar has managed to break a large amount of expensive equipment, despite Qui-Gon's warning not to touch anything. Lucas, in the theater, is laughing his ass off. The rest of the audience sits and watches in unamused silence.)

Anakin (to Jar Jar): Are you a poorly written racial stereotype who was written as comic relief, but simply gets more annoying as time progresses?

Jar Jar: Meesa of da Gungan race, okeeday?

Anakin: Yeah, that's what I thought.

(In the meantime, out back…)

Watto: Ah, here it is! (He flies over a small trash heap.) Your T-14 hyperdrive module is right here!

Qui-Gon: Excellent. We will be purchasing it in Republic credits.

Watto: No! No Republic credits here!

Qui-Gon (waving his hand through the air): No, Republic credits will suffice.

Watto: No Republic credits! Only money!

Qui-Gon (waving his hand through the air again): I SAID Republic credits will do just fine!

Watto: And I said that we don't take Republic cred…

(In a blindingly fast motion, Qui-Gon reaches to the ground with the Force, pulls a 2X4 into his hand, and swats Watto like a baseball. The flying junk salesman lands on the ground with a dull thud.)

Qui-Gon: You'll take Republic credits and like it, you little bitch!

Lucas (off-camera; there are sounds of the man pulling out his own hair): No! Liam! You're supposed to be a Jedi!

Liam Neeson: And you're supposed to be a screenwriter! So far, I've seen situations that any mentally handicapped iguana could think his way out of, annoying and uncharismatic characters, aliens that closely resemble a bad Asian stereotype, and aliens that closely resemble a bad Jamaican stereotype! And this is the second bloody time we've had to shoot this ENTIRE movie! What is this winged thing supposed to be? (He points at Watto's body.) A bad Jewish stereotype? Arabian? Are you picking on Gypsies now?

Lucas: No! They're all just coincidental similarities!

Neeson: I quit!

Lucas: Noooooooooo!

(The camera shifts awkwardly to black, and then begins anew in the next scene.)

(Qui-Gon walks back into Watto's shop. A bruised and sluggish Watto follows him. Jar Jar is bathed in wires and fallen objects from the shelves, despite Qui-Gon's explicit instructions not to touch anything. Posh has chipped a tooth and is rubbing it vigorously in pain. Sporty is lying on the ground by the protocol droid, who has its arm raised as if it just followed through a punch. Baby is sitting on the floor in the middle of a puddle of drool. Anakin and Padmé are sitting on a bench by the counter, making out vigorously.)

Qui-Gon: We're leaving now. He won't take Republic credits.

Posh: You couldn't convince him otherwise?

Qui-Gon: I'm afraid not…

Posh: Too bad we didn't bring Ginger. She has a remarkable gift for persuading men.

Sporty (getting up slowly and rubbing her head): Who knew these things had such a great right hook? (She sees Qui-Gon and Watto.) Oh, are we leaving now?

Posh: No, I have a feeling we'll be staying on the planet for a bit. Mr. Negotiator here couldn't convince the mosquito to sell us the engine.

Sporty: Good… now I can sample the local… ah… culture.

Posh: Don't you dare! If you jeopardize our careers, I'll stick my heel so far up your…

Sporty (not seeming in the least bit disturbed by this idea): And?

Posh (shuddering): Ugh… never mind!

Qui-Gon: Okay everyone, let's go. (Everyone except Jar Jar begins walking to the door.)

Anakin (to Amidala): I'll call you!

(Jar Jar is mesmerized by an expensive-looking piece of equipment. Qui-Gon casually strolls up to him and swats him in the back of the head.)

Qui-Gon: I said we're leaving, your pitiful excuse for comic relief!

Jar Jar (rubbing his head): How wude!

(The determined group leaves Watto's shop. Along the way, they pass a vendor selling the dried meat of some strange animals. Jar Jar flicks out his tongue, latches onto one, and catapults it into the air.)

Jar Jar: Yuck! Tastes like doo-doo!

(Posh notices the same vendor.)

Posh: I say, do you have any caviar? (The vendor points to a small bowl sitting on a table. Posh grabs it and begins hungrily eating it.) Ah, caviar! It's been almost a few hours since I… (She stops. Her face looks funny.) What the…? (She spits out the caviar and throws the bowl into the air behind her.) Beluga! How shoddy!

(The airborne bowl of expensive fish eggs flies through the air, and lands on the head of Sebulba, a rather hotheaded alien who is sitting at a table eating. In a blindingly fast motion, he leaps from his seat, charges at Posh, and knocks her flat on the ground.)

Sebulba (speaking in an alien tongue): You hit me in the head, you bitch!

Posh (looking frantic): Er… it was him! (She points to Jar Jar.)

Jar Jar: Meesa?

Baby: Tee hee hee!

(Sebulba charges at Jar Jar and begins beating the crap out of him. Suddenly, a young boy runs up…)

Anakin (in Sebulba's language): Hey, save it for the pod race tomorrow! It was just an accident!

Sebulba: Your birth was an accident, you son of a whore!

Anakin: What's the matter? Afraid I'll whip your ass in the race?

(Sebulba puts Jar Jar down.)

Sebulba: So you want me to stop beating up this creature because you think you can beat me in a race?

Anakin: That's right. (There is a long pause.) Besides, she did it. (He points to Baby.)

(Within moments, Sebulba has taken Baby to the ground, torn off her arms, and is beating her to death with them.)

Posh (to Anakin): You saved my life! I… I… what's this emotion I'm suddenly feeling?

Qui-Gon: Gratitude?

Posh: No, I don't think so?

Sporty: Lust for women?

Posh: No! It feels like I want to thank him for something…

Qui-Gon: That's gratitude.

Posh: Oh, so this is what it feels like? (She stands motionless for a moment.) Ah, there it goes; it's passed. (She turns to Anakin.) There, you've done your good deed for the day. Now piss off.

Anakin: But… but I…

Sporty: Victoria! That is incredibly cold of you! This boy saved your life from that… thing. (She crouches down and hugs Anakin.)

Qui-Gon (whispering to Amidala): Wow. This is the first time I've seen her act even slightly affectionate with a man without some ulterior motive.

Sporty (to Anakin): So… do you have any sisters?

Amidala (to Qui-Gon): Looks like you spoke too soon.

Jar Jar (fanning himself off with his hand): Ugh… meesa so hot!

Posh: Don't flatter yourself, honey.

Anakin: He's talking about the weather, you doofus! The suns are shining brightly today. Hey, do you guys want to come back to my place? The sandstorms are due to arrive pretty soon, and you don't want to be caught in them.

Amidala: Sounds like a good idea to me!

Qui-Gon: Very well. Lead the way to your house.

Anakin: Yippee!

(The boy takes off running for the poorer section of the city, and the party of heroes follows him. Sebulba is still beating Baby's corpse, which now resembles thick strawberry Jell-O.)

(Meanwhile, on Coruscant…)

Darth Sidious (to Darth Maul, as they walk outside at night): You must find these Jedi… and these pop stars… and eliminate them. They pose too great a risk to allow them to live.

Darth Maul (in a badly dubbed voice): Yes, my master.

Darth Sidious: After that, we will make our presence known. The Sith will rise again.

Darth Maul: At last we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi. At last we will have our revenge.

Darth Sidious: After the Jedi have been defeated, I plan on marketing a line of toys, clothing, and apparel with your likeness on them.

Darth Maul: At last we will sell ourselves out to children. At last we will be millionaires.

Darth Sidious: And finally, we'll see about giving you some more screen time in the video release of this movie.

Darth Maul: At last I will no longer be a crappy one-shot throwaway character. At last I will…

(The scene gets abruptly cut off. Somewhere in the audience of the movie theater, a man yells. It happens to be Ray Park, the actor who portrayed Darth Maul.)

Ray Park: George, you filthy whore! There was another ten minutes left in that scene!

Lucas (standing up): If you don't like it, tough shit! You've just had the pleasure of playing the most overhyped throwaway character of the century!

Random Star Wars Fan (to Lucas): Down in front!

Park: Oh yeah? Well you can stick that double bladed lightsaber up your fat ass! I'll never work for you again! (He begins to walk out the theater door, then turns around.) Say, could you write Darth Maul into Episode 2 somehow?

Lucas: No!

(Meanwhile, the movie continues rolling… the group has entered Anakin's humble home. Shmi Skywalker greets everyone at the door.)

Anakin: Mom, look! I found these complete strangers and invited them back to our house!

Shmi: Now Anakin, what have I told you about inviting perfect strangers into our house?

Anakin (solemnly): That I shouldn't do it.

Shmi: And do you remember what happened the last time you let strangers into our house?

Anakin (still solemnly): They shot us, shackled us, loaded us onto a ship and sold us to Watto as slaves.

Shmi: Right. And you don't want that to happen again, do you?

Anakin: I guess not.

Qui-Gon: Ma'am, I can assure you we mean no harm. We merely seek shelter from the sandstorm outside. We'll be on our way when it's over.

Shmi: Well, I suppose that's all right. And don't let that thing shit on my rug. (She points to Jar Jar.)

Jar Jar (indignantly): Hey! Meesa only made a doo-doo on a rug three times by accident, okeeday?

Anakin: Come on! I have something to show all of you!

(Anakin runs into his room with Padmé and R2-D2 following him. He pulls a dust cover off of a workbench, and reveals a fully assembled protocol droid, minus its exterior plating. R2 beeps happily.)

Padmé: Oh my! You killed a man and tore the flesh from his bones?

Anakin: What? No, he's a droid! His name is C-3PO. I built him to help mom around the house, and also so Star Wars fans would actually find one whole common thread between the movies in all this mess.

Padmé: Can you turn him on?

Anakin: No, I didn't program sexual functions yet.

(R2 beeps loudly.)

Padmé: No, I meant can you activate him?

Anakin: Oh, right. (Anakin flips a switch on the naked droid's back. It stands up clumsily and begins speaking in an effeminate voice.)

C-3PO: Greetings. I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations. (It pauses momentarily as it looks around the room.) Oh my, look at this place! The paint on the walls clashes with the floor terribly. And those curtains! Ugh! This room needs some track lighting desperately!

Padmé: Wow, he's great.

(R2 beeps at the other droid.)

C-3PO: Pleased to meet you, R2-D2. I am C-3PO. Don't you simply love Broadway musicals? (R2 beeps a question at him.) Do I pack what? I'm afraid I don't understand the question. (R2 beeps again.) Naked? Oh my!

(Suddenly, Sporty rushes into the room.)

Sporty: Naked? Did I just hear someone say "naked"?

Padmé: Yes. In reference to this droid.

Sporty: Oh. Damn. (She walks out.)

(In the next scene, everyone is seated around Shmi's table eating roast Wamprat and strange looking fruits. Posh is regaling everyone with a story.)

Posh: So I told the silly bitch, "Who do you think you're serving? I'm a celebrity, damn it, and when I ask for mineral water, I don't expect this shit from Montana." So, I had her fired. Last I heard, she and her children were on the street begging for change. Can you believe the nerve of some people? She certainly got what she deserved.

Padmé (looking at her Rolex and sighing): Did that sandstorm blow over yet?

Shmi: Unfortunately not. So, what brings you to this wretched hive of scum and villainy?

Qui-Gon: We were… we needed to find someplace to set down for repairs.

Anakin: He's a Jedi, too!

Qui-Gon (smiling): You're a clever lad, Anakin. How did you know? Was it because you saw my lightsaber?

Anakin: Nope. When you were beating up that midget actor in the Jawa costume after rehearsal, you were yelling, "I'm a Jedi, God damn it! My salary is one hundred times yours! Now go get me coffee and a donut!"

Qui-Gon (gritting his teeth): Damn it! No one was supposed to see that!

Jar Jar: Yousa in deep doo-doo wit da union!

Qui-Gon: Shut up!

Anakin: I always wanted to be a Jedi. That way, I could free all the slaves. And get all the chicks, of course.

Sporty (glancing at her own lightsaber, which happens to have a triangular pink emblem on it): Trust me kid, that part isn't in the contract.

Qui-Gon: Well, there's no point in fooling you, then. We're on an urgent mission to Coruscant. The queen of Naboo is in our ship, which needs a new hyperdrive. Unfortunately, that greedy prick you call a slavemaster is the only one who has one, and he won't take Republic credits.

(Jar Jar's tongue lashes out to nab a fruit from the basket on the table.)

Anakin: I could help you get the money to buy the hyperdrive. I'm the only human in the galaxy who can survive in the pod races!

Padmé: Well, that sounds dangerous. Is there any other way? Do these scum have any other weaknesses?

(Jar Jar's tongue lashes out again to nab a fruit from the basket. Qui-Gon looks visibly annoyed.)

Shmi: Only one… cheap prostitutes.

Posh: Well, bollocks to that idea. We left Ginger back on the ship.

Qui-Gon: Then I'm afraid we have no choice. Anakin, will you help us save Naboo?

Anakin: Damn right I will!

Shmi: Anakin! No cursing!

Anakin: Aw, fuck you mom! I'm gonna be a Jedi! Yippee! (He gets up from the table and runs into his room.)

Shmi: He's special, you know.

Sporty: Yeah, I noticed. My mum would have smacked me good if I had said that to her. Plus you allowed several perfectly strange strangers into your house. You're not a very good parent, are you?

(Before Shmi can answer, Jar Jar opens his mouth to lash out his tongue and get another fruit out of the basket on the table. In a split second, Qui-Gon stands up, pulls out his lightsaber, and proceeds to sever Jar Jar's tongue from his mouth. The Gungan begins screaming in bloody agony.)

Qui-Gon: Now knock it OFF, you annoying little toad!

Posh (appalled): Oh my God! How horrible! That poor creature… his blood is all over my brand-new dress!

(The scene ends with a frantic Lucas yelling for the cameras to cut.)

(EXT. Anakin's backyard. The group of heroes is busily assembling a pod racer. A group of local children has arrived to taunt Anakin.)

Young boy #1: Hey Anakin, you suck!

Young buy #2: Yeah, you suck so much that I had sex with your mom last night!

Young Rodian: Yeah, so did I!

Young Girl: So did I!

Sporty: What? Really? How was it?

Anakin (lifting his head up from the welding he is doing): Relax Sporty. They're just breaking my balls.

Sporty: Oh. (She resumes changing the oil in the pod.)

(From the side, C-3PO, R2-D2, and Posh are watching as Jar Jar, Sporty, Padmé and Anakin are assembling the racing machine.)

Posh: You'll never get me into one of those dreadful ships.

C-3PO: Me neither.

(They all watch as Jar Jar, a fresh bandage on his tongue, drops a wrench on his foot, then bends down to pick it up, only to sodomize himself on a long, protruding piece of the engine. This line of slapstick elicits dead, bored, indifferent silence from the audience, except for George Lucas, who is laughing uproariously at his own brainchild.)

Posh: What an annoying little creature. I can't believe those doctors willingly stitched his tongue back together.

C-3PO: What I can't believe is how badly the colors on the engine clash with the pod itself! What were they thinking, putting two different earth tones next to each other. A nice mauve would have been so much…

(R2-D2 beeps a question at 3PO, interrupting his train of thought.)

C-3PO: Do I what? No, I'm sorry, I don't believe I've ever eaten a rooster before.

(R2 beeps wildly in laughter at 3PO's ignorance. He rolls away, chuckling to himself in a series of beeps, and begins helping with the pod.)

C-3PO: What a queer little robot!

Posh (looking at 3PO): Look who's tal… oh, never mind.

(Meanwhile, Qui-Gon and Shmi are discussing Anakin.)

Qui-Gon: So, who was his father?

Shmi: I don't know. I really don't know.

Qui-Gon: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Was it drugs or alcohol?

Shmi: No, no, I mean there was no father. One moment I was myself, and the next moment, I was pregnant with him. I can't explain it.

Qui-Gon: Sounds like opium to me.

Shmi: He is strong with the Force, isn't he?

Qui-Gon: Yeah, probably. He seems to have you on a leash at any rate.

Shmi: Can you help us? Get us away from here?

Qui-Gon: I suppose I'll have to if you want to be in the sequels.

(That night… outside Shmi's house…)

Sporty: Sit still, you little bastard!

Anakin: Then quit being so rough!

(Sporty is desperately trying to affix bandages to Anakin's skin that was scraped and cut during the pod repairs.)

Sporty: It wouldn't be so rough if you'd just cooperate!

Anakin: Well, I'd cooperate if your hands weren't rougher than a man's!

Qui-Gon: Calm down, you two. Anakin, let me see that cut on your elbow.

Anakin: Okay. (He lifts up his elbow so Qui-Gon can have a look at it. Qui-Gon stabs it with a needle, siphons out some blood, then crudely slaps a bandage on it.) OUCH! What did you do that for?

Qui-Gon: Er… so it wouldn't get infected!

Anakin: You disinfected my arm by sucking out my blood with a needle??

Qui-Gon (sweating): Er… uh… yes!

Anakin: Oh. Okay then. (He runs inside to go to sleep.)

Sporty: Wow. I didn't know you could disinfect someone's arm by sucking out blood with a needle.

Qui-Gon: You can't.

Sporty: But you…

Qui-Gon: Shut up! I needed a blood sample to send to the ship. (Qui-Gon pulls out a Gillette Sensor Excel razor for women, and begins talking into it.) Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan… Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan… come in.

Sporty: Qui-Gon… you're talking into Posh's razor again.

Qui-Gon: Whoops. (He puts it back in his pocket, then pulls out a Gillette Sensor Excel razor for women with an antenna sticking out of the top of it.) Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan…

Obi-Wan (over the communicator): Yes, master?

Qui-Gon: I'm sending over a blood sample. I need you to do a midichlorian count on it.

Obi-Wan: A what count?

Qui-Gon: You know… the bullshit count of those little Force sensitive microorganisms George made up for this movie.

Obi-Wan: Oh, that. Right. Coming right up. (After a long pause…) Wow, the bullshit count is off the scale! There's even more bullshit here than in Master Yoda.

Qui-Gon: Just as I suspected. Thank you, Obi-Wan. (He hangs up the razor… er, excuse me… communicator.)

(EXT. The Pod Racing track. There are scores of spectators in their seats, waiting for the race to start. These people obviously do not have lives. Watto is speaking with Qui-Gon, Padmé and the two Spice Girls.)

Watto: A bet, eh?

Qui-Gon: Yes. I'll bet that my pod can beat your pod. And I'll bet that it will beat Sebulba's pod too.

Watto: If I lose?

Qui-Gon: We give you the winnings, paying you for the hyperdrive in the process, and we get the boy and his mother.

Posh: WHAT?

Sporty: WHAT?

Posh: Giving away all that money? Are you insane?

Sporty: We get to bring his mom with us?

Watto: Absolutely not! No two slaves are worth a pod. Pick one!

Qui-Gon: The boy, then.

Watto: Ah, good. The mother is a fine piece of ass anyway.

Sporty: I wouldn't know. (She sighs.)

Watto: And if I win?

Qui-Gon: You get the pod, the winnings, and this woman. (He motions to Posh. Her eyes widen in shock.)

Posh: He gets WHAT? Wait a minute! We never discussed…

Watto: It's a deal!

(The race is about to begin. All around the arena, the spectators are getting charged up. The announcers are giving commentary in two different languages. All of a sudden… they're off! Except Anakin. His pod is still sitting at the starting line.)

Anakin: Oh no!

Shmi: Oh no!

Sebulba (flying to the lead in his pod): Oh yes!

Anakin: Work, damn you! Work! (He toggles switches, pulls levers, presses buttons, etc. all to no avail.)

Jar Jar (getting a bright idea): Meesa know what's wrong! Meesa help Ani!

(The Gungan charges bravely out onto the pod track and begins tinkering with Anakin's pod.)

Anakin: What are you doing?

Jar Jar: Meesa checking de engine connections. Meesa think…

(At that moment, the pod's engines separate from the pod itself. The connecting cord wraps around Jar Jar's neck, carrying him at full speed down the course by his neck. The audience of the theater begins cheering.)

Padmé: Oh no! Jar Jar might be dead!

Qui-Gon (under his breath): Finally.

(Jar Jar's body, along with the two powerful pod engines, speed across the course, passing most other racers with amazing speed. Near the finish line, with only Sebulba to pass, the engines inadvertently swoop over Sebulba's pod. Jar Jar's limp foot, dangling from his body, which is in turn dangling from the cable of a pod engine, kicks him in the back of the head with great force, causing him to black out. His pod crashes and explodes. The engines cross the finish line in first place, dragging Jar Jar's body behind. They show no sign of stopping.)

Announcer: Hooray! Skywalker's pod did it! Anakin Skywalker is… sort of… our new champion!

Anakin: Yippee!

(Hours later, inside the pod hangar bay…)

Watto: I was cheated! The boy never won! It was that stupid alien with the boy's engines!

Padmé: Speaking of which, shouldn't we untie him pretty soon?

Sporty: Yeah, he's been out there for a while now.

Qui-Gon: No rush. The engines should run out of fuel soon. They'll only drag him another twenty miles at most.

Watto: I refuse to abide by our terms! You can have your hyperdrive, but I don't want to give up my slave!

Qui-Gon: Perhaps the Hutts would like to know about your inability to live up to a wager.

Watto (sarcastically): Ooo… the Hutts! I'm sooo scared!

Qui-Gon: Fine then. Give us the boy, and we'll give you the woman, just as if you had won the wager.

Posh: WHAT?

Sporty: Come on Posh, be a sport. A few months of hard labor should harden you up in no time!

Watto: Hmm… Maybe I can use that collagen for spare parts… It's a deal!

Qui-Gon: Excellent!

Padmé: Is this legal?

Qui-Gon: Probably not, but I won't tell if you won't.

Posh (flabbergasted): I… I… I cannot BELIEVE this! You sick bastards! How dare you! That child is worthless! I'm a celebrity, damn it!

(Two of Watto's slaves, two very large humanoids, walk up to Posh and each grab an arm.)

Qui-Gon (to Sporty): Now might be a good time to say goodbye.

Sporty: Oh, right. (Sporty looks at the restrained Posh, and walks up to her slowly. Posh winces, guessing what's coming. Sporty walks to within an inch of her face, smiling gently. Then… leaning forward…she grabs Posh's hand and shakes vigorously.) Nice knowing ya, Vic! Try not to drop the soap in the showers of the slave quarters!

(Posh's expression is one of shocked relief.)

Posh: You're… not going to try and snog me?

Sporty: Nah, why bother? There's no thrill of the hunt with you all restrained like that, plus this is only supposed to be a PG movie. Besides, remember the time you fell asleep and I put my nipple in your mouth and took pictures? I'll always have the memories.

Posh: You… you can't leave me here!

Sporty: Why not?

Posh: I'm too rich and powerful to be a slave!

Sporty: Should have thought of that before you told me to piss off!

(Sporty walks away, back towards Qui-Gon, Anakin, and Padmé.)

Posh: Okay, joke's on me! You can let me go now!

(They begin walking away.)

Posh: No, seriously, you scared me into thinking I was a slave. You can tell them the bet's off now.

(Sporty and Qui-Gon give her the finger as they leave the pod hangar.)

Posh: You sick fuckers! I'll kill the both of you! This wasn't in the script! (She begins screaming at the two aliens holding her.) Let go of me! I can pay you! I can lie still while you… (One of them raises a scaly eyebrow and grunts a question.) EEK!

(In the audience of the theater…)

Ginger: Victoria, I'm not often complimentary on your work, but that was some very good acting!

Posh: Shut up.

Ginger: What? Why?

Sporty: Oh, you didn't know?

Ginger: Know what? I wasn't there for the shooting that day, and I didn't see Victoria again until after we finished filming.

Sporty: Oh, those were real slave traders. George wrote a last minute addendum into the script thinking it would be a dramatic moment, and the only extras on hand to play slave traders were real slave traders from Tunisia, where we were filming.

Posh: Mel, shut up!

Ginger: Real ones? My word, how long was she locked up?

Sporty: About four months, give or take.

(Ginger begins rolling in her seat howling with laughter. Sporty soon joins in. Posh's face looks like a volcano ready to explode.)

Posh: I'm going to kill the both of you when we leave this theater.

Baby: Tee hee!

Sporty (holding in the laughter): Baby's right. We should keep watching the movie.

Ginger: Speaking of Baby… I can't believe how real her death scene looked. Why, it almost looked as if that creature actually tore her arm right off!

(Baby merely giggles contently, then pulls down on her shirtsleeve to cover up the stitches that adorn the entire circumference of her shoulder. The other girls resume watching the movie.)

Ginger: Oh, that bloody Jar Jar creature is still alive? (She points to the next scene of the movie on the screen, in which Jar Jar, previously seen dangling from a pod engine, is somehow alive, though badly beaten.) How the hell did that happen?

Sporty: George wanted him to live. Something about all of Jar Jar's death scenes not being in the script. They say the guy inside the suit has had four major reconstructive surgeries following the filming.

Ginger: From taking so many beatings during the stunt sequences?

Sporty: No, because die-hard Star Wars fans have been trying to kill him for sacrilege, and he had to change his appearance.

(Back on the movie screen, Anakin has just finished saying goodbye to his mother. Off in the distance, a jeep engine and a screaming woman are heard simultaneously, but this eventually fades as the jeep drives farther away.)

Anakin: Mom, will I ever see you again?

Shmi: What does your script tell you?

Lucas (off-camera): "Heart." "Heart!"

Shmi: Er… what does your heart tell you?

Anakin: I think I will. Yeah, I will. This scene is too devoid of any real emotion for us not to see each other again.

Shmi (kissing Anakin on the cheek): Don't look back, Ani.

(Anakin turns around and walks away with Qui-Gon, Sporty, Padmé, Jar Jar, and R2-D2. As they walk away, Shmi reaches into her pocket, pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and begins doing a sort of victory dance. Anakin turns around to look at his mother, only to be greeted by her celebrating his departure.)

Anakin: Mom??

Shmi (quickly hiding the cigarette and calming down): I told you, don't look back! What part of that didn't you understand?

Anakin: Well, sorry!

(They walk to the ship, and Anakin does not look back.)

(As they near the Naboo vessel, Qui-Gon hears a buzzing sound rapidly approaching him from behind.)

Qui-Gon: Kid! Run for your life!

(He pulls out his lightsaber, and Sporty pulls out her own, which glows with a healthy purple hue. Swooping overhead on his speeder, Darth Maul leaps to the ground and lights his own lightsaber. He begins hacking fiercely at both heroes.)

Sporty (blocking saber swings and grunting): Ugh! Wait a minute… isn't -ugh- that thing he's holding -urk- one of those double-bladed lightsabers I saw in all the -ech- trailers?

Qui-Gon (also doing his fair share of blocking and swinging): Urg! Shut up! Don't -ugh- ruin what should have been the -oof- coolest surprise of the movie!

(Darth Maul's swings are fierce and fast. The two fighters can barely hold their ground, despite the fact that they are merely fighting one person.)

(Inside the ship…)

Anakin (running): Qui-Gon's in trouble! We have to help him!

Padmé: Take off and fly near him. We have to get out of here quickly.

Panaka: Yes, your highness. (Padmé shoots an icy cold stare at him.) Er… I mean… yes, handmaiden!

(The Naboo craft, its new engines properly installed, takes off and flies parallel to Sporty and Qui-Gon.)

Sporty: I don't believe it! Those self-righteous wankers are leaving without us!

Qui-Gon: No, the ramp is out! They're trying to save us!

Sporty (blushing): Oh… those wonderful, caring people! (turning to Darth Maul, who is still fighting the duo at once) Don't you ever talk? (Silence.) Hey, I'm talking to you! (She blocks his lightsaber as she speaks, but there is still silence.) Your mother was a fetid whore, and your father sodomized himself with garden tools!

(Darth Maul's eyes open wide. His mouth opens, and as he is about to speak…)

Qui-Gon: Jump!

Sporty: But this guy's finally going to say…

Qui-Gon: JUMP!

(The two make a flying leap for the Naboo ship's ramp. Qui-Gon lands and falls, while Sporty does a high kick in mid-air [yeah, you've seen the Say You'll Be There video too; admit it] and lands on her feet. Darth Maul watches them fly away, getting incredibly agitated at losing his prey. He skulks off to find a pack of Jawas to beat.)

(Meanwhile, in the ship…)

Ginger: I can't believe it! Everyone's safe! (She looks around and does not see Baby or Posh.) Well… everyone who counts is safe. (She looks around the bay again.) Just where is that bloody bitch and that… other bloody bitch?

Qui-Gon (getting up and clutching his leg): Well, the stupid one got beaten to death with her own limbs by some odd creature…

Sporty (dusting herself off): And Victoria got sold into slavery so we could get the boy in there. (She points to the cockpit, where Anakin has already begun to annoy the pilots.)

Ginger: Slavery, eh? Bet she'll be as pissed off as a rabid bull with its balls caught in a vice when she gets back.

Sporty: It'll build character. At least, all the movies about enslaved, imprisoned women say so. (The entire crew of the ship goes silent and looks at Sporty.) What? They're excellent films!

Amidala: That's quite enough. We're finally on our way to Coruscant, and the pilots don't need any distractions.

Sporty (after an uncomfortable silence): Did you know that you and that Padmé chick could pass for twins.

Amidala: …Shut up.

Obi-Wan (to Qui-Gon): So, it looks like we've picked up a new passenger, eh?

Qui-Gon: Yes, and at the cost of two Spice Girls. A fair trade, I'd say.

Obi-Wan: More than fair.

Qui-Gon (to Anakin): Obi-Wan Kenobi, meet Anakin Skywalker.

(They shake hands.)

Obi-Wan: That's odd…

Anakin: What?

Obi-Wan: My entire hand went numb.

Qui-Gon: Oh, that's probably nothing.

Obi-Wan: Yes… but are you sure the boy isn't a vessel of evil and malevolence?

Qui-Gon: Of course he isn't! Just look at his innocent face.

Obi-Wan: Right. How silly of me.

Scene III: Intermission

(The film stops, and a cardboard "Intermission" logo slaps itself across the movie screen. Various fans get up to stretch, cheer, and bicker about the fault sin the movie.)

Ginger: Ah, well, I think I'll be heading for the bathroom for a second or two. This movie's quite long.

Sporty: I guess it's a good thing they got rid of Posh early on, eh? Anyway, I've got to piss like a racehorse too.

Posh (steaming mad and speaking through clenched teeth): I too must go to the bathroom.

Baby: Tee hee!

Lucas (overhearing most of this): What did she say?

Sporty: Something about the snack bar. She's getting harder to understand each time. Besides, what do we look like to you? Ewoks?

(The foursome waddles down the aisle toward the lobby. Coming towards Lucas down the same aisle is Rick McCallum, holding about three hundreds pieces of papers in his hands.)

McCallum (yelling): George!

Lucas: Oh shit. (George immediately tries to run for cover, but between his enormous size and the crowding of teenyboppers and nerds in the aisles, he cannot move very far.)

McCallum: George, you deceitful bastard!

Lucas (feigning innocence and surprise): Why Rick! Good to see you! Enjoying the movie so far?

McCallum: George, what the hell is this?! (He waves the papers in the air.)

Lucas: Er… um… The first chapter of Stephen King's new book?

McCallum: Very funny. No, I'm afraid these are the budget reports for this movie. You have a shitload of explaining to do! The Fox executives are having heart attacks!

Lucas: Look, it's really quite simple… (The lights begin dimming, signaling that the movie is about to resume.) …but the explanation will have to wait! (Without another word, he darts for his seat, avoiding any further conversation with McCallum.)

Scene IV: The Movie Resumes

(Back in the movie, the Naboo ship is arriving on Coruscant. Senator Palpatine and his guards greet the envoy.)

Palpatine: Your majesty, I'm glad to see you're safe. Would you care for a cup of tea? (He holds up a cup dripping with an obviously poisonous, green substance.)

Amidala: No thank you, Senator. I want to call the Senate to a meeting at once.

Palpatine: Damn. Er… I mean… yes, your majesty.

Qui-Gon (to an escort): I need to speak to the Council at once. This situation has just become fucked up beyond belief.

Scary: And I need to see Bad T about my weekly…. Uh… (She notices a few arched eyebrows staring at her.) …shipment of makeup! Yeah, I really start fiending without my makeup!

(INT. Amidala's chambers on Coruscant. The queen, Palpatine, Jar Jar, Scary, and Sporty are all sitting around a table talking about the situation.)

Amidala: We have to stop the Trade Federation. And I also can't shake the feeling that someone is trying to kill me.

Palpatine: That is so terrible. But rest assured that I, your faithful servant, will not let anything happen to you.

Amidala: Thank you, Senator.

Palpatine: Of course. (He smiles.) Would you care for an apple? (He holds up an apple, which to the naked eye, looks perfect. Yet upon closer inspection, one might notice a razor-thin incision in its side.)

Amidala: No thank you. I'm quite full.

Palpatine: Damn! Er… I mean… oh.

(Without a moment's hesitation, Scary grabs the apple from his hand.)

Scary: Oh thank God! I need a sugar rush to calm my nerves down.

(She walks over to the other side of the room, polishing the apple with her shirt.)

Palpatine: Er… now… as I was saying…

(There is a dull thud from the other side of the room as Scary falls to the floor.)

Jar Jar: Uh-oh. Sheesa look dead!

Amidala (gasping): Oh no! Freaky!

Sporty (whispering): Natalie, her name's Scary.

Amidala: Oh right. (gasping again) Scary!

Palpatine: Uh… er… oh my! That apple was intended for you, my queen! Someone must have placed a poisoned razor blade in it in hopes of killing you!

Sporty: How did you know it was poisoned?

Palpatine: Er… it's a common method of evil!

Amidala: But who would be so dastardly?

Sporty: Well, that weirdo over there is always hanging around you and in your business… (She cocks her head toward Panaka.)

Panaka: What? This is an outrage! I am the queen's personal bodyguard! It's my job to be around her!

Palpatine (trying to cover his own ass): Panaka! How could you? All this time as the queen's bodyguard, and you were trying to kill her! You bastard!

Panaka: Excuse me?

(Guards, hearing the commotion, walk into the room.)

Amidala: Guards, take this traitor away!

Guard: Yes, your highness. What would you like us to do with him?

Amidala: See if the prisons are still looking for "volunteers" for that chemical castration procedure.

Panaka: Oh shit! (He attempts to jump out of a nearby window, but each guard grabs him by his arms. They haul him away, kicking and screaming.)

Amidala: How incredibly unsettling.

Sporty: Really! It's a good thing you have Senator Palpatine and I looking out for your best interests!

Jar Jar: And meesa!

Sporty: Oh. (scowling) Right. Me, the Senator, and… uh… him. We're all looking out for you!

Palpatine (peeling a skull and crossbones label from a bottle in his hand): Indeed. Would you care for some wine, your highness?

(Meanwhile, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ginger are stepping through the doors of the Jedi Council chamber.)

Mace Windu (carrying on a conversation with the Jedi next to him): Hey, wamprat may taste like pumpkin pie, but I'd never know 'cause I wouldn't eat the filthy motherfucker.

Qui-Gon: Ahem!

Mace Windu: Aw shit. Are we rolling?

Lucas: Yes!

Mace Windu (sitting up and trying to get back into character): So what do you motherfu… I mean… uh (He deepens his voice slightly from his Pulp Fiction tone.)… how did your mission go?

Obi-Wan: It was a complete and utter disaster.

Ginger: The Trade Federation was being quite rude to us!

Qui-Gon: They attempted to kill us all.

Yoda: Shitty job they did.

(Everyone is dead silent as the Jedi master utters the profanity.)

Lucas (yelling to the puppeteer): Oz! What the hell are you doing!

Yoda: Pull me off the new Muppets movie for this crap, do you? My wrinkled dick you can suck! Your movie I will ruin!

Qui-Gon (sighing): Great. Not another one.

Ginger: Look, let's just stick to the general idea, and they can edit this out later.

Obi-Wan: Right. Uh, so anyway, we had to rescue the queen, and we got damaged in the process, so we landed on this planet and traded for a new hyperdrive, and we found this boy here along the way.

Yoda: Mmm… gay are you?

Qui-Gon (stepping forward): Uh, no, the boy was a slave, so we thought it best to set him free. His midichlorian count was phenomenally high.

Mace Windu: Meaning what?

Qui-Gon: Well, you see, there is the prophecy of a boy with great power who… (In that moment, Mace Windu reaches into his robe, pulls out a .45, and shoots the Jedi sitting next to him in the chest. Everyone is startled, and they clam up.)

Mace Windu: Oh I'm sorry, did I break your concentration?

Qui-Gon: Jesus Christ, Jackson! This isn't the new Tarantino movie!

Mace Windu: Oh, shit, this is that Star Wars fucker, ain't it? I hate working on two movies at once! I always mix up the scripts! (He clears his throat.) So, uh, you refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring profit to the Force. You believe it's this boy?

Yoda: Tested he must be. (He pulls out a small cup and hands it to Anakin.) Into this cup piss.

Ginger: Funny… my entrance exam was a bit more difficult than that.

Yoda: My name you were screaming during that test. More fun than difficult it sounded, hmm?

Obi-Wan (repulsed at the thought): Oh my God… I'm going outside.

Yoda: Little wuss you are. Your ass I could kick.

Lucas: Cut! Before this gets any worse, cut! (He moves to block the camera as we switch back to Amidala and Palpatine. They are currently at a Senate meeting in the gigantic Galactic Senate chamber, waiting to speak to the group.)

Chancellor Vallorum (talking to an angry looking bald man and a woman with a thick accent seated next to him): Does it say "stupid" across my forehead? Don't piss on my lake and tell me it's raining, mister! Judgement is for the plaintiff in the amount of five hundred credits.

Bailiff: The parties are excused. Next case is Amidala, Queen vs. Aliens, Chinese Stereotypes.

Vallorum: What seems to be the problem, your majesty?

Amidala: The Trade Federation has invaded my planet. They should stop.

Neimoidian Senator (floating up to the council): This is an outrage! We merely set foot on the planet's soil armed with guns! Now, if you want to call something that innocent an invasion, well…

Vallorum: Please. Now, let me confer with everyone else. (He begins whispering to the other Senators.)

Palpatine (to Amidala): Now you'll see how politics works, my dear. (Vallorum begins conferring with an older alien of some sort. The alien seems to give some advice.) That is one of the Sullustan chairmen. He has influence over the Chancellor. (Vallorum turns to his right and begins speaking to a slightly overweight man with gray hair. The man shrugs.) That man is what they call the "leader of the free world." (The "leader of the free world" turns to his right and asks the blonde woman next to him a question. She looks at him for a moment, then swats him upside the head, climbs over him, pushes him out of the way, and begins barking orders at the chancellor.)

Amidala: Oh my. That woman must be an even better political strategist than this "leader of the free world" person.

Palpatine: Of course. That's his wife.

Vallorum: We… seem to have reached a decision. We do not believe that the Trade Federation is at fault here, and therefore, we cannot take action at this time.

Amidala: Then perhaps it is time for someone to preside over the Senate who is willing to take action. I move for a vote of no confidence for Chancellor Vallorum.

(Behind her, Palpatine sheaths the poison-laced dagger he was hiding, realizing that the queen may be of some use to him.)

Palpatine: Eh?

Amidala: And I move that Senator Palpatine be his replacement!

(Gasps emanate from the Senate floor as various alien races all voice their opinions simultaneously.)

Vallorum: Oh. Shit.

(In the meantime, Anakin is being tested by the Jedi council.)

Mace Windu: Right. And this one? (He is holding an image pad, and Anakin is guessing the various images on it via the Force. The next image pops up. It is that of a fork.)

Anakin: Hmm… a fork.

Mace Windu: Correct! And now, the last one…

Anakin: Hmm… this one's tougher… it looks like some sort of demon.

Mace Windu: Demon? No, try again.

Anakin (wincing): I'm sorry… all I keep picking up from it is this aura of pure evil.

Mace Windu: Well, you got nine out of ten correct. That final image was an N'Sync CD. You were way off on that.

(Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Ginger step forward.)

Ginger: So, this is where you start training him, right?

Anakin (his eyes lighting up): Oh! Can I train under her? Please?

Yoda: When training under her, train under her you will do literally!

Mace Windu: No. No training. I'm afraid the boy is too old to be trained.

Obi-Wan: Too old? What do you do, start training them the moment they're bloody fetuses?

Qui-Gon: I will volunteer to train him myself.

Yoda: Two apprentices you cannot have. Funny it looks. Illegal in some states it is.

Qui-Gon: Surely you can't be serious!

Ginger: He can take the crash course, like we did before we started filming!

Mace Windu: There is still another matter to consider…

Yoda (to Anakin): How feel you?

Anakin: With my hands.

Yoda: Smart-ass you are.

Anakin (his smart-ass smile fading): I feel… nervous.

Yoda: Scared are you?

Anakin: No.

Yoda: Full of shit you are.

Anakin: So what if I'm scared? It doesn't mean much…

Yoda: Everything it means! Fear is the path to the lucrative side. Fear leads to evil characters. Evil characters lead to merchandising. Merchandising leads to profit.

Mace Windu: Motherfucker! That ain't in the goddamned script!

Yoda: Care I do not.

Mace Windu (to Anakin): What he meant to say is that fear leads to the Dark Side. If you're afraid, you're going to turn into a bad guy.

Anakin: What?? That makes no sense! You mean to tell me that if you're afraid, you're going to turn into some Darth Vader bastard? That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard!

Mace Windu: Nonetheless, that's what George says, so we're not going to train you.

Qui-Gon: The boy will be trained.

Mace Windu: You would do well to not defy the council again after the last incident.

Qui-Gon (to the others): Come on. We're leaving.

(The walk out of the room, leaving the Jedi council alone.)

Ginger: What last incident is he talking about?

Qui-Gon: Let's just say that he isn't voluntarily bald.

(They walk into Amidala's quarters. She and her servants are packing their bags.)

Ginger: Why is everyone packing up so quickly? Did Mel contact an undercover cop by accident again?

Sporty: Ginger… Scary's dead. It's just the two of us from now on.

Ginger: You… you mean… we're all alone? (She begins crying.)

Sporty: Yes, I'm afraid so. Here, let's have a hug. (She reaches out to hug Ginger.)

(Ginger, however, recoils, avoiding Sporty's embrace entirely.)

Ginger: Get away from me! Why did you think I was crying?

Amidala: We're just going to wait for the senator to return from the meeting. We've voted Chancellor Vallorum out of the Senate.

(On cue, Palpatine walks through the door with an angry Captain Panaka behind him.)

Panaka: Your highness.

Amidala: Oh, I'm so terribly sorry for that misunderstanding earlier, Captain. Are you okay?

Panaka: I'm fine. The gang rapes in the prison shower weren't as bad as I had feared. But enough about my day! The Senator has been nominated to head the Galactic Senate!

Amidala: That's wonderful!

Palpatine: Yes, I'll admit I'm quite surprised that my plan worked perfectly as well.

Qui-Gon: Who else was nominated?

Panaka: Bail Antilles of Alderaan, and two Gamorreans…

Obi-Wan: Gamorreans? Aren't they the aliens that look like pigs?

Palpatine: Yes, that's them. I believe these two were named Napoleon and Squealer. They claim to have led a revolution on their planet. (He reaches into his robe to pull out a gun.) And now, your majesty…

Amidala (before he can draw): And now, Senator, I will be going back to Naboo. My people need me.

(Palpatine eases the gun back under his robe, smiling.)

Palpatine: Oh. You do realize that they'll kill you, don't you?

Amidala: Yes, but I must go.

Palpatine: Good. (He pauses for a moment.) Er… I mean… good luck, your majesty! I wish you would not leave… for your own safety, of course.

(Everyone exits the room except for Palpatine. On his way out, Jar Jar trips over the threshold and says, "Exsqueeze me." In the audience of the theater, Lucas laughs uproariously, while the rest of the audience remains silent, with the exception of a lone popcorn container being thrown at the screen.)

(Back in the movie, everyone is approaching the Naboo ship to go back to the planet for the only exciting battle sequence in the movie.)

Anakin: Qui-Gon?

Qui-Gon: Not now kid. I need a smoke. (He hurries on ahead.)

Anakin: Obi-Wan?

Obi-Wan: Not now kid. I need some blow. (He hurries ahead as well.)

(Anakin looks sideways and sees the two remaining Spice Girls looking at him expectantly. He lets out a heavy sigh.)

Anakin (rolling his eyes): Spice Girls?

Ginger & Sporty (expectantly and in unison): Yes?!

Anakin: I heard Qui-Gon talking before about midichlorians. What are midichlorians exactly?

(The two girls exchange a puzzled glance.)

Ginger: Um… look, kid, don't you want an autograph or something?

Sporty: Maybe a free T-shirt?

Anakin: No! I want to know what the hell midichlorians are.

Ginger: Great.

Sporty: Well, they're… uh…

Ginger: They're kind of…

Sporty: They're like a vegetable, only not.

Ginger: Right, and they're really, really big. Although… uh… not too large.

Sporty: But they're invisible…

Ginger: … and they give off a funny aroma every now and then…

Sporty: And…

Anakin: You don't know, do you?

Ginger & Sporty (in unison): No.

Anakin: What good are you? (He walks on ahead.)

(Back on Naboo… The Neimoidians and Darth Maul are walking down a hallway talking to a projection of Darth Sidious.)

Nute Gunray: They're coming here?

Rune Haako: What are we going to do?

Darth Sidious (on the holotransmitter): Eliminate them. (There is a long pause.) Line?

Lucas: All of them!

Sidious: All of them.

Nute Gunray: But… we were going to do that anyway.

(There is another long pause.)

Sidious: Shut up.

(On the other side of Naboo… The ship has landed, and its crew has stepped out onto the planet.)

Qui-Gon: We'll never stop all those droids.

Sporty: We need more troops! Preferably female! (Everyone looks at her blankly.) Er… male troops are good too!

Obi-Wan: But the entire city's been taken over. There's no way we're going to get any Naboo troops rallied out here.

Ginger: Aren't there any other troops we can ask for help?

(The is a long moment of silence. Then, almost begrudgingly, everyone looks over at Jar Jar, who is walking into garden tools conveniently strewn everywhere.)

Panaka: Oh no.

Amidala: Please, anything but that.

Ginger: I don't want to convince that fat slug to do us any more favors!

Qui-Gon: We have no choice. Jar Jar!

(Jar Jar comes running over.)

Jar Jar: Yessa?

Qui-Gon: We… need the Gungans' help.

Jar Jar: Okeeday! Meesa go to da Gungan City and ask for help.

(Jar Jar waddles off to ask his leaders for help.)

Amidala: Will this work?

Qui-Gon: Well, they way I see it, they'll either accept the offer to help us or execute Jar Jar for treason. Either way, I'll be happy.

(Hours later, Jar Jar returns.)

Ginger: About bloody time you got back. Did you go all the way to Jamaica?

Jar Jar: Da city is deserted!

Qui-Gon: Rats! Where could they be?

Jar Jar: Da Gungans have a special hidin' place in times of crisis! Meesa take yousa there, okeeday?

Sporty (sarcastically): Great.

(Within a few hours, the group has ventured into the secret Gungan hiding place. Boss Nass and the entire Gungan race are nestled snugly in a grove of trees.)

Boss Nass: What is-a all dis?

Amidala: Boss Nass, I am Queen Amidala of the Naboo people, and I am in desperate need…

(Before she can finish, Padmé, her handmaiden, rushes forward and pushes her aside.)

Padmé: Boss Nass, I am Queen Amidala. That was my royal decoy.

Qui-Gon: I knew it!

Ginger: Shhh!

The Real Amidala: She is an exact physical duplicate of me designed to fool my enemies.

Qui-Gon: That lying bitch! All that time, she was telling us she was just a handmaiden!

Sporty: You're going to get us in trouble.

Amidala (pausing and whispering back to Qui-Gon): Liam, shut up. I'm trying to do my speech.

Qui-Gon: Brilliant script, George! Why didn't you add a plot twist that people didn't see coming?

(Amidala, tired of waiting for Liam Neeson to be quiet, slowly turns around, walks over to Liam, puts her hands on his shoulders, and kicks him directly in the groin. He falls over, clutching himself. Amidala walks back to her speech with Boss Nass.)

Amidala: Now, as I was saying, we need your help. I'm asking you… no, I'm begging you. (She gets down on her knees.)

Boss Nass: Hmm… meesa like dis! Okeeday, da Gungans and da Naboo will fight da droids for da planet!

Ginger (relieved): Oh thank God! I didn't have to do any sexual favors this time around!

Boss Nass: …on one condition. Meesa want another piece of da Ginger Spice.

Ginger: Eek.

(Three minutes and six seconds later…)

Qui-Gon: Okay, we need a plan of attack.

Ginger: Well, don't look at me for ideas. I've got a terrible headache.

Panaka: According to the surveillance I did, we can sneak a small force into the palace as long as there is a distraction outside.

Obi-Wan: In other words, you need cannon fodder that movie audiences won't care to watch get slaughtered?

Panaka: Exactly.

Amidala: Okay, now that we know what the Gungans are doing, what about us?

(As they discuss their plan of attack, Boss Nass is speaking to Jar Jar.)

Boss Nass: Jar Jar Binks!

Jar Jar (startled): Ah! Don't kill meesa!

Boss Nass: Meesa no kill yousa. Meesa make-a you general!

Jar Jar: Meesa? Meesa gonna be a general? Why yousa bein' so nice to meesa?

Boss Nass: Meesa drunk out of meesa mind! And, meesa don't want to get meesa self killed.

Jar Jar: Ohsa.

(Fairly soon, the plan of attack is decided upon. The heroes sneak through the city streets, carefully avoiding the droid patrols, and enter the main hangar bay. A flurry of droid gunfire welcomes them.)

Qui-Gon (to Anakin): You find someplace to hide and stay there!

Anakin: You're not my dad! You can't tell me what to do!

Qui-Gon (turning to warmly embrace Anakin): Anakin… it's time you knew… I am your father.

Anakin (on the verge of tears): Ruh… really?

Qui-Gon: No! Now get into a fucking hiding place!

(The boy runs to the safety of a Naboo starfighter's cockpit.)

Amidala: We'll never stop all of these droids!

Ginger: I know now what I must do.

Sporty: You don't mean…

Ginger: Yes. I can stop them.

Sporty: Don't do it. It's suicide!

(Ginger ignores her, and darts out into the path of the gunfire. She raises her hands in the air in a surrender position.)

Ginger: Get a load of these, suckers! (She lifts up her shirt for the droids, who all drop their weapons and stare in awe.)

Amidala: Now!

(The remaining pilots and soldiers scramble to attack the stunned battle droids. With Ginger standing topless, their task is quite simple, and the droids are soon destroyed.)

Obi-Wan: Thank goodness for saline.

Amidala: Okay. All of you pilots, get to your ships and take out that battlestation. The rest of you, follow me.

Sporty (running up to Ginger): Ginger! You did it! That was amazing!

Ginger: Not now!

Sporty: No, I really mean it. I thought you were going to get killed in the gunfire. You were brilliant.

Ginger: I was? Oh… yeah, I guess I was!

Qui-Gon: Ginger, perhaps you should scout on ahead and… "stun" any other droids you come across.

Ginger (saluting): Yes sir!

(She runs through the palace doors. As soon as she steps through, there is the audible crack-hiss of a lightsaber, and her head comes rolling slowly back to Qui-Gon's feet.)

Sporty: Ulp!

Qui-Gon: Oh, that can't be good.

(Standing in the doorway is none other than Darth Maul himself, his lightsaber in hand.)

Amidala: What should we do?

Qui-Gon: You go on ahead as planned. The three of us will handle this.

Sporty (counting on her hand): Wait a minute! Three? I'm not going anywhere near that thing!

Qui-Gon: You're coming with me if I have to surgically insert fake tits into myself just to get you to follow me around! Now get moving! (A vein in his forehead is pulsing by now.)

Sporty (gulping): Uh… yes, sir.

(Darth Maul holds his lightsaber horizontally, and the infamous second blade hisses into existence.)

Obi-Wan: I still say they should have left that scene out of the trailer to give the audience just a little surprise.

Lucas: Shh!

Obi-Wan: Right, right.

(The three heroes crack-hiss their lightsabers and charge at Darth Maul.)

[For the sake of conserving some space within this already huge story, the space battle, the Gungan battle, and the fight between Amidala and the Neimoidians takes place in generally the same way as in the movie. Insert a few sex jokes and cursing in it occasionally, and it'll go in perfectly in this story. We're just going to concentrate on the Darth Maul battle, okay? -Cloud]

(Darth Maul, master Sith, is easily blocking each attack the three warriors throw at him, which, although physically impossible, looks really cool on screen. Eventually, they all get to that weird forcefield room, and Obi-Wan gets trapped behind one while Qui-Gon and Sporty go on to fight with Darth Maul some more. Obi-Wan merely watches and waits.)

Qui-Gon: Quickly! You take his right, and I'll take his left!

Sporty: Got it! (She moves to her right.)

Qui-Gon: No, his other right!

Sporty: If you meant his other right, you should have… (As she talks, she spins around to yell at Qui-Gon for lack of proper instructions. However, she fails to realize the length of the lit lightsaber in her hands, and it accidentally stabs right into Qui-Gon's chest.)


Sporty: Oh shit.

(Qui-Gon's limp form slides onto the ground just as Obi-Wan's forcefield opens up and he runs through. However, rather than charging for Darth Maul, he runs straight for Sporty and begins hacking at her. Eventually, he drives her backward into the large pit in the center of the room.)

Obi-Wan: Good riddance. (He suddenly realizes that he was supposed to be fighting Darth Maul.) Oh bollocks. (As he turns around, Darth Maul is standing there patiently, smiling at him. With a few quick lightsaber strokes, he knocks Obi-Wan into the pit as well. He desperately grabs onto a protruding knob.)

Sporty: Oh, nice to see you!

(He looks to his left and sees Sporty dangling from the knob next to him.)

Obi-Wan: Look, sorry about that whole blinding rage and trying to kill you thing. It was… uh… all the negative Dark Side energy in this room.

Sporty: What are we going to do about him?

(She looks up at Darth Maul, who is playing jacks on the floor waiting for the two heroes to fall to their deaths.)

Obi-Wan: I have an idea!

Sporty: Use the Force to throw him into the pit, and fly us out?

Obi-Wan: No, I'm going to flip over him and slice him in half!

Sporty (looking at him blankly): You must be joking. He fought off three bloody laser swords at once, and you're going to flip over him and be done with him like that?!

Obi-Wan: He'll never see it coming!

Sporty: Yes he will! He's looking right at you!

(Ignoring her, Obi-Wan summons up all of his discipline, all of his Jedi training, and all of his bullshitting Hollywood movie powers, and leaps in the air, flipping over Darth Maul, grabbing Qui-Gon's lightsaber, and slicing Maul in half.)

Darth Maul (weakly): Bassss… tardddddddd…

(His two halves fall into the pit.)

Sporty (watching him fall): Well, I stand corrected. (She begins lifting herself up.)

(Meanwhile, Obi-Wan rushes to the side of his fallen master.)

Obi-Wan: Qui-Gon! Hold on! You can't die!

Qui-Gon: I'm afraid… my… time… is up.

Obi-Wan: No!

Qui-Gon: Now listen… to me. There are… two… things I want from you… First, you must train… the boy. (He coughs up some blood.)

Obi-Wan: And second? (Qui-Gon mumbles something.) What? I can't quite make that out. (The dying man mumbles again, but it is undecipherable.) What? The only words I can make out are "mannish bitch."

(Qui-Gon dies.)

(The scene switches to that of Yoda speaking to Obi-Wan.)

Obi-Wan: Wait, so now the council has decided to train him?

Yoda: Yes. Agree with them I do not.

Obi-Wan: But I don't get it. Before, they said we couldn't train him because he was too old. Now all of a sudden we can?

Yoda: High on mushrooms they were at the time. Eighty years old they thought he was.

(In a couple of days, Qui-Gon's funeral is held. His body is set ablaze.)

Mace Windu: It’s a good thing that motherfucker's dead, or else that fire shit would hurt like a bitch. (He realizes that he's not in character again. He clears his throat.) So… uh… Yoda… what do you think of the thing that attacked them?

Yoda: Sith it was. Said so in script it did. Always two there are. A master and an apprentice.

Mace Windu: So which did they kill? The master or the apprentice?

Yoda: Hmm… find out in two years in the sequel we will.

(The camera lingers obviously on Palpatine for a moment. Only idiots do not know that Palpatine is Sidious by now.)

(Time passes. The Neimoidians and their droid armies have been defeated. The entire planet is having a celebration in honor of both the victory and the newfound friendship between the Naboo and the Gungans.)

Sporty: Well, even though it was sad, I think we all learned something from these past few days!

Obi-Wan: Learned? What did we learn?

Sporty: Well… that Jar Jar thing swallowed a live grenade, got run over by a droid tank, and lost all four of his arms in humorous ways, yet he managed to take out an entire squadron of droids.

Obi-Wan: That wasn't a learning experience. That was blind luck.

Anakin: I'm amazed he's still alive. Where is he anyway?

Obi-Wan: Over there in those stands, I think. (He points to an empty group of seats with a wheelchair-bound Gungan sitting in them. Jar Jar waves at Obi-Wan, Sporty, and Anakin from afar.)

Sporty: Can't believe that stupid thing survived.

Obi-Wan: Hey, on a completely unrelated note, what happened to the debris from the droid battlestation?

Anakin: You know… I don't really know.

(On cue, a gigantic chunk of metal falls from outer space and lands directly on Jar Jar, crushing him to death under tons of searing hot, sharp debris.)

Sporty: What irony. Anyway, about the learning thing. You… uh… you learned a lesson about the Force.

Obi-Wan: A lesson? What lesson? I learned to take my rage and kill someone by slicing them in half, whereas I'm supposed to learn patience and discipline.

Sporty: Oh. Well… I learned that I need to learn how to use my light sword better! (She giggles a nervous laugh.)

Obi-Wan: Oh, right, that reminds me.

(He pulls out his lightsaber, turns it on, and runs Sporty through. She falls forward to the ground, dead. Anakin looks shocked.)

Anakin: Hey! Doesn't that turn you to the Dark Side or something?

Obi-Wan: Nah. The Force will forgive me for that one, I think.

Anakin: So is that my first lesson?

Obi-Wan: Uh… yeah, sure, whatever. Kill whatever pisses you off. You won't turn into a Sith lord or anything.

Scene V: The Aftermath

(The end credits begin rolling, and the entire theater erupts in pandemonium. The Star Wars nerds applaud the movie simply because… well… it's Star Wars. The teenyboppers, however, are crying and screaming at the movie for its utter lack of love for the Spice Girls.)

(George Lucas basks in the glow of his fans as Rick McCallum approaches him.)

McCallum: George!

Lucas (stopping his revelry): Oh shit.

McCallum: George, you have some explaining to do.

Lucas: Rick… I…

McCallum: George, what I just watched was the most abysmal, overhyped, overrated piece of garbage I have ever seen.

Lucas: The fans seem to like it.

McCallum: You could film a plastic lightsaber for two hours, slap an "Episode II" title on it, and it would make four hundred million dollars because of them. No George, within a week, all of those fans will be posting to Usenet complaining about how bad the movie was. It always happens.

Lucas: Did you just come here to insult my masterpiece?

McCallum (holding up his stack of papers): Actually, George, I came here to discuss a little matter of a budget with you.

Lucas: Uh-oh.

McCallum: Now, aside from the obvious problems here… (He flips through a couple of pages.) You intentionally halted the production of seven separate movies just so you could get your entire main cast to reshoot their scenes. That alone cost a lot of cash, just to flex their contracts a bit with the studio executives.

Lucas: I…

McCallum: Shush. (He flips to the next page.) You retained the services of the Spice Girls. Thankfully, the blonde one worked for free because she didn't know how to negotiate a contract. But, the one with the dark hair seemed to think she was Meryl Streep, judging by this paycheck you gave her.

Lucas: She…

McCallum: Let me finish. Then, we have the various tape edits. That cost you about five hundred dollars at the most. And you did a piss poor job. No second takes, edits in the wrong spots, and pieces of paper taped to the film for special effects. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not to mention that you got a bunch of smart-ass teenagers on the internet to write your script for free, which explains all of the random cursing, sex, and violence.

Lucas: They…

McCallum: Shut up. Now George, you lied to us. You told us that the reason for the degradation in quality of this special edition was because of most of the funding being in Episode II. And yet, as I look at this budget report, I can't help but notice that they gave you OVER ONE HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS! (His face turns red with anger.) Only thirty million is accounted for! Where did all the rest go George? WHERE?

Lucas: I… I… the…

(Sudden realization dawns on McCallum's face.)

McCallum: Oh no. Oh George, you didn't. (Lucas hangs his head in shame.) George, those weren't computer effects, were they? You built actual sets and used actual lasers and ships, didn't you???

Lucas: …and the lightsabers…

McCallum: And the…? The LIGHTSABERS??? Is that even scientifically possible?

Lucas: Well, for about twenty million dollars and a team of scientists…

McCallum: How overbudget are we?

Lucas: Mumble, mumble.

McCallum: HOW much? (Lucas whispers in his ear.) Oh no. George, we're in deep shit here. You have to pay back Fox. We can sell the lightsabers. Where are they?

Lucas: I... gave them away.

McCallum: You WHAT? To who?

(A producer runs up to George at that very moment.)

Producer (shaking his hand): George, brilliant movie! And I don't mean Bride of Chucky brilliant! I'm talking Wild Wild West brilliant! But… ah… where are the Spice Girls? I haven't seen them since intermission…

Lucas: Why… I thought they went to the bathroom…

(Thirty minutes ago, in the bathroom…)

Ginger (washing her hands): Well, I must say, this premiere is going quite well.

Sporty (standing up to pee in one of the stalls): Oh, definitely. I'll bet I could land one of our female fans in the sack if I tried tonight. (Even though the stall door is closed, Sporty can feel the stares.) I mean… if I were into that sort of thing. Which I'm not.

Posh (touching up her makeup): Well, all I know is that my part in that movie was too brief. I don't see why you two got to live through the rest of the movie.

Baby (standing in the middle of the room, holding her souvenir lightsaber prop, courtesy of George Lucas): Duh!

Sporty: Yeah, you did get to live longer than Baby did!

Posh: A snail swimming through a pile of salt could live longer than Baby if we weren't there to supervise her. Besides, my death was the most tragic.

Ginger: Excuse me? MY death was the most tragic! Because of me, they managed to get past the droid army, and in my moment of good fortune, I was killed in cold blood!

Posh: Excuse me, bitch, but do you have any idea what it's like being sold into slavery?

Ginger: I worked in nudie magazines for four years! Of course I know what it’s like!

Posh: Filthy slut!

Ginger: Scene stealing whore!

(The two reach down to their sides and pulls out the working lightsabers that George gave them as thanks for doing his movie. They snap their sabers on, and each take a swing at each other. They hit each other simultaneously, decapitating each other at the same moment.)

Sporty (still in the stall): Hey, are you guys all right? Guys? Did you leave? (No answer.) Hmm… well, I guess since I'm all alone in here, I might as well try out this vibrator Mr. Lucas gave us.

(There is an audible snap-hiss from inside the stall, and a short, stifled scream.)

(Baby simply stands in the middle of the room for a few minutes before decided she is hungry again. She pulls out the nice, long lollipop Mr. Lucas gave her for working on the movie, and…)

(Back to the present…)

(An usher runs up to George Lucas.)

Usher: Mr. Lucas! They just found the Spice Girls dead in the bathroom!

Lucas (pushing the usher aside): Out of the way, kid. I have to go raise a few million dollars for Fox.

(Lucas walks outside and into the street. A newscaster walks up to George with a microphone.)

Newscaster: George! Preliminary reports are saying that Episode I: the Special Edition has now officially beaten Titanic as the number one movie of all time! What do you have to say on the matter?

Lucas (raising his arms in the air): I'm king of the world, baby! I'm king of the…

(Suddenly, a limousine carrying the twitching bodies of Leonardo DiCaprio and Mark Hamill runs over George Lucas, then drives away with him attached to the front axle, kicking and screaming.)


Trademark and copyright 1999, CloudVader Productions. Do not reproduce without giving the author, Cloud Volpe, due credit.

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