The Star Wars Humorous Versions
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[quote=study3600]WARNING: GENERAL SW SAGA SPOILERS All credit for anything not my own in these scripts goes to their authors. Any change or alteration made to any original material from other authors made for editorial purposes or for continuity or in keeping with the rules of theforce.net. Title: Return of The Jedi Humorous Version Author: The Jedi Council and the Mara/Luke Boards Members: study3600, Gonk, ariusvaldayn Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, drug references and sex related humor Characters: MARCUS STREETWALKER, Lee Smits, Umporer Palpitatine, Hands Off, Chunkalunk the Cookie, Darth Vacuous Genre: Fantasy/humor Timeline: 4 Y ABY About Length: Will be the length of a typical Star Wars Script Summary: Marcus Streetwalker returns to his home planet of Patootie to rescue Hands Off from the vile clutches of Pizza Du Hutt. Meanwhile the Umperor Palpitatine has secretly begun construction of Deadly Star 2: The Sequel. Notes: The Humorous Versions were started in 1999 by Speak, Darth Vacuous and Purp. This particular thread, ROTJ HV was entirely kept going by Gonk and me so far. There have been many contributers to the Humorous Versions over the years and decades: T, Jandor_Tarvin, Shalimar, Darth To The Waist, Agent J, Lazy K, Darth Revvin, GENERAL RIKKAN and many, many more. But I want to get Episode III HV done first before finishing this one. The other movie and movie script-based Humorous Versions: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Completed HV's: I (Technically, though it still is incomplete unless there is SOMEONE out there with a copy of the original.) II IV V Incomplete HV's III VI VII VIII Not started yet: IX Extracurricular: STARTED: ROUGE ONE HANDS OFF PART ONE The MacGuffin The Clown Wars- incomplete The Holiday Special -we can do it but hands off the ending--it is too sacred to touch NOT STARTED The Goofy Bunch Rebelliousness III MUST be finished before VI is completed. That is a must. Now is the time for all good men and women in the JCC to come to the aid of the Humorous Versions. To help work on the Star Wars Humorous Versions, register for free on www.theforce.net forums. Go to Fan Fiction-Before Saga and beyond. I can add you to the group planning thread if you are interested but you don't have to join that planning thread to contribute. On theforce.net I am study888. -Brent Sohlden "study3600 December 22, 2023 AD/CE 7:12 PM CDT God bless.-Brent Ciou. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away, or something like that.... SC 01 SPACE- the final frontier. These are the voyages of the- er, wrong movie. The boundless heavens serve as a backdrop for the MAIN TITLE, followed by a FRUIT ROLL-UP!, which crawls into infinity, and beyond THE HUMOROUS VERSIONS Episode III, oops, VI REHASH OF THE JEDI Marcus Streetwalker has returned to his pathetic home planet of Patootie in an attempt to rescue his friend, Hands Off, from the clutches of the vile, fat, bloated, disgusting gangsta Pizza du Hutt. Little does Marcus know that the GALACTIC UMPIRE has secretly begun construction on a new armoured space station even more powerful than the first laughed-at Deadly Star. But one battlestation can't stop the Rebelliousness Group, especially if they go blow it up while it's half finished.... PAN DOWN! to reveal the half completed Deadly Star II, which looks nothing like an octopus. Beyond is the greenish forest moon of Endorphin. A star whacker moves overhead toward the massive space station, followed by BOWTIES, which make awesom SHROOM! sounds that are impossible since there's no sound in space. SC 02 INTERIOR-EMPERIAL SHUTTLE-COCKPIT The shuttle captain is about to make contact with the Deadly Star CLOAKED FIGURE: Captain. CAPTAIN: Yes, sir? CLOAKED FIGURE: Tell them we wish to board at once. Captain switches on viewscreen. CAPTAIN (to controller): With all due respect, Vacuous wishes to board at once. CONTROLLER: Yes, of course. Ah, as you know, our blockade is perfectly legal, and we'd be happy to receive the ambassa-dors. The security deflector shield will be deactivated immediately. Back in the passenger seats Vacuous enjoys a ruby bliel. SC 03 INT. DEADLY STAR II CONTROL ROOM (Operators move about among the control panels. A shield operator presses a big green button marked TURN SHIELDS OFF. A control officer rushes to the shield operators.) OFFICER: Inform the commander Vacuous's shuttle has arrived. OPERATOR: Roger Dodger. (The control officer moves to a viewport and watches as the Emperial shuttle lands in the massive docking bay. A squad of Emperial stomptroopers move into formation before the craft. The DEADLY STAR COMMANDER, Moth Jerryrod, a tall, confident Democrat, strides through the assembled troops to the base of the shuttle ramp. The troops snap to attention. Many are scared and nervous, very uneasy about the new arrival. But the Deadly Star Commander stands arrogantly tall, like a visit from Darth Vac was always a pleasant thing. The shuttle opens, and from the darkness inside comes heavy footsteps and slow mechanical breathing. Out of the void comes Darth Vacuous, Lord of the Sith. DEADLY STAR II-- THE SEQUEL DOCKING BAY *There is a long moment where everyone is very still, waiting for the ominous music to play itself out. Jerryrod finally gives the orchestra, a ramshackle bunch of stormtroopers, a dirty look, and the music grinds down to a dismal halt.* JERRYROD: (coughs) Lord Vacuous, this is an unexpected pleasure. We are honored by your-- WHACK! VACUCOUS: You may dispense with the pleasantries commander, I am here to kick your a**. WHACK! JERRYROD: Ow! I thought you used the force to discipline commanders! VACUOUS: I've improved the method. WHACK! JERRYROD: But-- WHACK! JERRYROD: I assure you-- WHACK! JERRYROD: My men are working as fast as they can! WHACK! WHACK! *Jerryrod looks about for a moment, and realizes Vacuous has already moved on, and he'd being pummeled by his own men, gathered around in a circle and giving him the boots* JAY AND SILENT BOB: *Living out thier dream as contact troopers aboard the Deadly Star* Snootchie B*****ies! WHACK! *Jerryrod crawls out from beneath everyone's legs and follows Vacuous* VACUOUS: Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them. Like kicking your a** some more...*begins to motion for the troopers again* JERRYROD: No, no...that's not necessary. Couldn't you just have brought beer and nachos. VACUOUS: I did. It's in the shuttle. *Troopers suddenly look to one another and charge up the shuttle ramp* VACUOUS: *Puts hand to his helmet and shakes head* Damn, I knew that was just going to slip out... JERRYROD: I tell you this station will be operational as planned. VACUOUS: Brian Dennehy does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation. JERRYROD: But he-- Ryan Dennecheese? Who the hell is Ryan Dennecheese? What about the Emperor? VACUOUS: *waves his hand dismissively* Well...yes, him too. JERRYROD: Look, Ry- D- I mean, The Emperor or whoever, asks the impossible! *looks either way, sees the troopers coming back down with thier beer and nachos and so motions Vacuous closer and whispers* I need more men! VACUOUS: Huh? You need Hoolie Channe? JERRYROD: *whispering* No! More men! VACUOUS: I'm sorry commander, Hoolie Channe is simply out of the question. What sort of man are you, asking like that anyway? You some sort of stalker on poor miss Channe? JERRYROD: *shouting now* More men! I need more men! *looks around* sir. VACUOUS: More men? But what does this have to do with Hoolie Channe? JERRYROD: Look, it has nothing to do with- VACUOUS: *holds out palm* No, stop with the explanation, I don't want to know your sick Grand Moffioso fantasies. Talk to the hand. If you want someone to listen to them, perhaps you can tell the Emperor all about it when he arrives. JERRYROD: *Agahst* The Emperor's coming HERE? VACUOUS: That is correct commander. Well, close enough. Actually it's more of an extended stop-over on his way to the Wall-Mart. Apparently the one way out here is the only one that sells prime Darth Sideous action figures still in their proper casing. JERRYROD: *agahst* Darth Sideous action figures in their proper CASING? VACUOUS: That is correct commander. Me, I don't get it. It's almost as if there were some unfathomable connection between the Emperor and this mysterious 'Sideous' bloke. Perhaps the master is some sort of fan; lord knows he dresses exactly like the guy. Not that it's anything like you and your sick obsession with Hoolie Channe, mind you. I really should look into getting him a Sideous autograph... JERRYROD: *agahst* an AUTOGRAPH? VACUOUS: That is correct-- wait, stop that! Yes, the Emperor's coming here. Reap the whirlwind. JERRYROD: We shall double our efforts. VACUOUS: I hope so commander, for your sake. There Emperor is not as... as... as VACUOUS as I am. *Vacuous storms off and the troopers leap to their instruments in order to signal his departure. He leaves and the music ascends to a crescendo. Suddenly Vacuous turns about and stalks back, forcing the orchestra to try and play his theme backwards.* VACUOUS: *looking PATOOTIE DAY-- OUTSIDE OF PIZZA DU HUTT'S CASINO PALACE EXTRAVAGANZA. STINKY-O AND R2 MAKE THIER WAY TOWARDS THE BUILING, POKING THIER WAY THROUGH THE PARKING LOT STINKY-O: Of course I'm absolutely chicken. And you should be too. Lando and Rover never returned from this awful place. R2: Bloop-de-bleep-click-a click ding! (Translation: It's a gambling house. You think that media-whore Lando would pass up a chance to win money?) STINKY-O: Last we saw them though, they were heading in the extreme opposite direction. And at a pretty fast click too. In fact, the only way we even know they might be here was that one distress call the Rebels got from Lando saying "Help me! Aaaarrrggghhh!" From such conclusive evidence, it's a good bet he's somewhere here. No doubt Pizza somehow captured them. R2: Bleep! (Translation: Yes, pity. Wonder how that could have happened.) *suddenly a huge bag marked '$' falls out of one R2's compartments.* STINKY-O: What's that? R2: Bleep-de-bloop Braka-braka braka-JulieNumar- bleep click twirl-step-check- bloop de brick (Translation: What's what?) STINKY-O: That. That bag there. R2: Bleep block. (Translation: Oh, nothing. Laundry) STINKY-O: But-- you don't wear laundry. You're a robot. R2: Bleep. (Translation: I can't believe this! Must I suffer your wild and deluded accusations again and again? Why don't you just paint a target on me and call me Clinton? Have you no heart? Have you no shame?) STINKY-O: Alright, alright. Well, at least we're not going in alone. You remember what happened the LAST time we were walking alone in this desolate place. Thank god for our backup, whoever this is. *STINKY-O turns around to look at thier new friend, an imperial probe droid* STINKY-O: What was your name again? PROBE DROID: *responds in imperial code from ESB* STINKY-O: Riiight. I see. Well, is it ok if we pick a name for you? Hm, how about 'patsy'? *Probe Droid makes no movement* STINKY-O: Right, off we go. Come, patsy! PIZZA THE HUTT'S CASINO ENTRANCE-- DAY *Moving through the parking lot the three droids move amongst the cars and skiffs, everything silent. Only the odd bum hangs about, with bright neon signs reading "Pizza's" all about the building. Patsy lags behind, making the odd report and for some reason banging two coconut halves together. They arrive at the main door.* STINKY-O: Hm. Noone to greet us. How typical. Better knock I suppose. *noone does anything* STINKY-O: I said, better KNOCK I suppose... R2: Bwoop-de-bleep...(Translation: Oh, bloody hell...)*R2 extends an arm and weakly knocks on the door.* STINKY-O: Thank you, R2. But there's no answer. Obviously nobody home. Let's go back and feel up Princess Lee some more. R2: Bweep. (Translation: Damn STRAIGHT!) *Suddenly a slot opens in the door and a rather organic eyestalk pops out* EYESTALK: Wrar! STINKY-O: What the-- Goodness me, it's a Dianoga! How'd they fit one of those in the door? EYESTALK: WRAR! R2: Bweep. (Translation: Very painfully, by the sound of it.) STINKY-O: Well it does sound like he means business. But I don't speak Dianoga... R2: Bwrap-bwrap hit me baby one more time! (Translation: Six million forms of communication and you don't know Dianoga?) STINKY-O: Six million, yes... but four million of them are ebonic dialects. EYESTALK: WRAAAAAAAAAAR!!!! *Creak is heard* STINKY-O: What was that? Voices (above):Ferver le voche! Ferver le Voche! *Suddenly there is an earsplitting MOOO as a cow crashes down to the earth behind them, landing on Patsy the probe droid, who self-destructs.* STINKY-O: Holy PETA! They DO mean business! Look here Mr. Dianoga we're only here as er-- couriers-- FedEx couriers-- to deliver a message to Pizza the Hutt. Is he in? DIANOGA: Rowr? STINKY-O: Pizza the Hutt, I said, is he in? DIANOGA: *as if they are carrying on a conversation* Rowr-rowr. Rowrrowrrowrrowr...rowr. STINKY-O: I have no idea what the hell you just said. DIANOGA: I said shut up already and get inside. STINKY-O: Oh. *Door opens and the droids continue on inside. They walk, R2 leading the way-- mostly because whenever he stops STINKY-O pushes him on ahead* R2: Bwrap! (Translation: What do you think you're doing?) STINKY-O: Sorry R2, but when it comes down to it-- you're first against the wall. Admit it, the whole audience knows it. *Suddenly they run into a terrifying-looking Pig Man, a GO-FORIAN GUIARD. It looks down with a grunt, and R2 backs up straight into STINKY-O* STINKY-O: Ow, my crotch! *doubles over* *R2 whistles, and continues to back up, running over STINKY-O's feet* STINKY-O: Gah! *The two droids compase themselves. A second pig-man comes out from the darkness, looking at them suspiciously. It seems a bit of a standoff, then a third guard appears, this one clearly in the shape of a Llama. The Droids and Guard all exchange glances* GO-FOR #1: Er, we ran out of pigs. *Suddenly an alien appears: BOB GO-FOR-TUNA-- a slimy looking Twi-Lush dressed in a Domino's delivery-boy uniform* BOB: Chi wanni wanga! STINKY-O: Dammit, doesn't ANYONE speak something besides babytalk around here? BOB *Holds up finger, coughs out hairball*: Sorry, just finished with a Bantha Delivery. What can I do you mates for? STINKY-O: We are, uh FedEx couriers, and we bring a message to your Master, Pizza the Hutt. BOB: FedEx? Where's your uniforms? STINKY-O: We are...er, non-union scab workers. BOB: Shoot them. Now. STINKY-O: No, no wait! We have a message and..er..er.. R2: A gift. (Translation: A gift) STINKY-O: A gift, what gift? BOB: Oh, ok. Pass it over so we can shoot you. STINKY-O: Um...out instructions were to..eh...*looks at R2* Give it only to Jabba HIMSELF! Yes, that's right! BOB: The huttster eh? *thinks a moment* Sure I can't just have you shot? STINKY-O: Um...no. *BOB continues to think but then notice the GO-FORIANS laughing at his weird Domino's uniform. He pouts and gets all upset.* BOB: All right, come on! But this better be good! PIZZA'S CASINO (cont.) SEE-STINKY-O and R2 stand before the illustrious, cheesy, pepperoni covered Pizza The Hutt R2 turns on his projector. An image of Marcus Streetwalker fills the space in front of Artoo. MARCUS: I was big in Japan. I was the King of Ping Pong but I really sucked at Tuba. Give me Hands Off now and you can have all the money stored in my Astropop's Hollow innards, and you can have the Droids too. STINKY-O: So that's what you were hiding from me you miserable short circuit! Why, I oughtta- PIZZA: I will not give up my favorite decoration *gestures* I like Captain Hans exactly where he is. *everyone looks over to the wall* STINKY-O: Look R2, Ren and Ferry! And they're STILL frozen in Ice Cream! PIZZA: NO! *Gestures some more* STINKY-O: Look R2, Farisa Romey, and her career is STILL frozen in carbonite! PIZZA: NO! *Gestures even more. Finally we see Hands Off, his form still locked in Triple Ripple Fudge, lying on its back and being used as a coffee table by several of PIZZA's Peons* STINKY-O: Oh look. Hands. Wow, that's uh, impressive. R2: Bwoop-beep WHIP-CRACK! RAWHIIIIIDE! (Translation: I guess Princess Lee was wrong saying he'd never amount to anything. He makes good inanimate furniture.) *Everyone begins laughing, the droids most of all. It all lasts a good several minutes until it eventually dies down and everyone sort of stands uselessly about, not sure what to do next.* PIZZA: Well, I'm at a loss. I guess you two are part of my gang now. Go downstairs and the boys will fix you with your new West Side tattoos and a copy of our manual and mission statement. In the meantime let's turn up the tunes so I can watch Veronica degrade herself in the public eye some more. VERONICA KEWPINSKY: Yeah, baby! STUPID PIANO-PLAYING PINK ELEPHANT: *Blows incessantly from his trunk* *Droids are shuffled out. Speakers start to power up, then suddenly fizzle and die* PIZZA: What's going on? BOB: I dunno boss. Looks like some sort of...communication disruption. SIO BIBBLE: A communication disruption could mean only one thing: METALLICA!!!!!! *PINK ELEPHANT, SY SNOOTLES, PIZZA'S CHORUS DANCERS and just about everyone previously invovled in bad special edition dance numbers flee the stage as the lights go down. Metallica takes the stage and starts right up with Master of puppets. SIO BIBBLE, who's lit his beard on fire, gets right up on stage with them and begins headbanging away.* PIZZA: Now THIS is entertainment! INT- DUNGEON CORRIDOR *Droids are being led down a dank corridor by some GO-FORIAN GUARDS. Cells run on either side of the hall* STINKY-O: What could possibly have come over master Marcus? He's never shown such signs of possible intellect before. Was it Lee? Was it me? Did he watch too much T.V? R2: Bleep-whack, Back-In-Black. (Translation: I for one was in on it the entire time. NOW who's back is first against the wall?) STINKY-O: Still you more than ever you malfunctioning little- *Suddenly Harles Manswun thrusts his face out at STINKY-O* STINKY-O: Ooh, how horrid! *Stinky-O staggers away, back against the wall* MANSWUN: Helter Skelter! Gaul is DEAD! *Suddenly as STINKY-O is recoiling, a fleshy arm begins to incircle his upper torso. STINKY-O turns about and sees the owner of the arm is none other than a (justly) imprisoned Kathy Lee Gifford* STINKY-O: *Even more horrified* EEEEEEWWWWWW! *GO-FORIAN GUARD breaks it up, smacking KATHY LEE'S arm back away from the droid* RATHY NEE: And you tell that sumofab**** Seegis I was the popular one! MANSWUN:Gah, keep her away! Keep her away! The horror, the horror! *Droids carry on. At last they enter a large boiler room. They are led before a thin, menacing droid that bears an unsettling resemblance to Hannibal Lecter* LECTER DROID: Good morning. Ah, new acquisitions. You are a protocol droid, are you not? STINKY-O: That's none of your Quaydamn busniness. LECTER DROID: Yes or no will do. STINKY-O: Oh. Well, yes. LECTER DROID: How many languages do you speak? STINKY-O: I am fluent in over six million- LECTER DROID: Did your mother breast-feed you? STINKY-O: -forms of communication and can readily...wait, what? LECTER DROID: Your mother. Did she breast-feed you? STINKY-O: I'm a droid. I have a maker. Since when do droids have mothers? LECTER DROID: Could happen. STINKY-O: Not on any blueprints I've seen. LECTER DROID: I'm sensing frustration. Tell me about this...maker. Quid-pro-quo. You may use the couch there, if you like. STINKY-O: *Looks away, overdramatic. Lights lower a bit* I have no memory of my maker. I never new him. Or her. Or whoever. Or whatever. LECTER DROID: Do you ever think of the maker? Thank him? STINKY-O: Sometimes I...have these dreams... where the maker comes to me and there is a great reunion, lots of 'Yippees' and much rejoicing... LECTER DROID: And then? STINKY-O: and then he cuts me in half. Little punk. And everyone else handy too, as a matter a fact. I think the maker might have had some personality issues. *lights go back up* Wait, what is this? The Spanish inquisition? *Several British Gentlemen begin to jump through the door* MICHAEL SALIN: NO ONE SUSPECTS THE SPANISH- *GO-FORIAN closes door before he fully gets in the room* SALIN: UGH! STINKY-O: Why all these questions? LECTER DROID: Honest curiousity. Why? Are you trying to test me? A census taker once tried to test me. *points to a droid getting tortured* STINKY-O: ugh. LECTER DROID: Oh no wait, he's over there. *Points to droid leisurely reading a Marvel Star Wars comic Book. Droid looks up, waves* STINKY-O: That's good. After all, I can't really see the logical point of torturing a droid. LECTER DROID: Yes, well it's all a rich tapestry. Hm. This protocol droid might be useful. Fit him with a 'piece' and blue cripps bandana, and send him back up to the casino. *GO-FORIANS begin taking STINKY-O away* STINKY-O: R2, don't leave me! *R2, ever the humanitarian, laughs his robotic a** off* LECTER DROID: You're a feisty little one, but you'll soon learn that you can't keep me locked away like this forver. No, these walls *smells* they can't keep me. I want a place far away from the Pizza. Where I can breathe the air, see the trees... R2: Blugh. (Translation: Oh great. Here we go. Another Shakespearian has-been) CASINO MAIN ROOM-- METALLICA IS STILL PLAYING THIER SET, AND THE MOSH PIT HAS CLEARED TO ALLOW VERONICA KEWPINSKY TO HAVE THE FLOOR ALL TO HERSELF. VERONICA: This is fantastic! My cat's breath smells like CATFOOD! PIMP-ACTION LANDO: Yea, swing that beat! *Suddenly a far more obese singer, RINDA RIP (who looks suspiciously like John Hoodmonne) takes the floor to dance along with KEWPINSKY* RIP: Offa the floor smelly woman! KEWPINSKY: Not you again! Why are you here? PIZZA: I like 'em big, hairy, and without a shred of dignity! RIP: *stuffing some pizza down her enormously large mouth* Scram, interno-ferno-bai***! Yo fat a** is too big for this floor! KEWPINSKY: Your FACE is too big for this floor! Do yourself and buy a razor to scoop off the Bantha petting zoo on your chin, would'ja already??? RIP: Oh, you going' down! *Ladies jump at each other on the dance floor. Crowd cheers.* KEWPINSKY: smelly woman! RIP: loose woman! JOHN RAWVOLTAH: FEVER! *Brawl begins to develop. Bubba Fett, convinced the hippies are after him again, begins shooting off rockets into the crowd, PIMP-DADDY ACTION LANDO breaks off the end of a COLT 45 and enters the fray* JASON SHETFIELDD: NOW THE WORLD IS GONE I'M JUST ONE, OH PLEASE GOD what the hell is going on here? *crowd begins to stop. Band stops. Everyone freezes in mid-fight. One lone quarren with a drawn blaster shoots someone, hoping nobody noticed.* SHETFIELDD: What's wrong with you people? MARS ULWICCH: Yeah! We just ******' came here to play some poignant heavy ******' metal and you gotta go and get all violent on us! KEWPINSKY: It's RIP'S fault! SHETFIELDD: I don't care WHOSE fault it is, the lot of you need counseling! What's next, irresponsible crowd surfing? ULWICCH: People get hurt doing that! MASON NEWSTEDD: Ya bloody ****** morons! *Throws base at someone, knocking them over.* PIZZA: HA HA! This is great! Now go and play 'Stairway to Kevin'! ULWICCH: Kevin? Who the hell is kevin? CRUSHED PARTYGOER: Help me! PIZZA: You know... the Stairway song! The one you did with the Rolling Stones! I love that bit! SHETFIELDD: Who do you think we are, Led Zepplin? PIZZA: Led Zepplin? Is that some sort of German insult? *Metallica begins to leave stage, strides up before PIZZA* SHETFIELDD: This gig sucks! We're getting our money and leavin' this smelly joint! PIZZA: *waves hand* But we already paid you. SHETFIELDD: We're Metallica! Mind tricks don't work on us, only money! ULWICCH: Yeah! What, you some Napster user or something? PIZZA: CRAP, THEY'RE ONTO ME! *He flies into a panic, hitting a whole plethora of buttons near his heated throne* KEWPINSKY: AHHHHHH! RIP: AHHHH! RAWVOLTAH: STAYIN' ALIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGHHHH! GUARD ON SENTRY DUTY: AHHHHHH! N'STYNC IN CONCERT: AAAAAAAHHHHH! SHETFIELDD: Huh? What was that all about? ULWICCH: *looks about at all the open trapdoors surrounding the band* What happened to your floor? And what the HELL is that down there? PIZZA: Pay no attention to that slobbering beast behind the curtain! Look, you'll get paid. This time I've got the money. SHETFIELDD: If you give it to us, we might forget we accused you. PIZZA: I don't have it with me... tell ticketmaster... ULWICCH: Ticketmaster's through with you. They don't have time for gangsters that close up shop and clear out of town. PIZZA: Even I lose money sometimes. You think I had a choice? SHETFIELDD: Take it to the Board of Directors. They make only take your franchise. PIZZA: Over my bloated anchovies! SHETFIELDD: That's the idea. We've been looking forward to this for a long time. PIZZA: Yes. I'll bet you have. *Silence* ULWICCH: Well uh...yeah. *Suddenly there is a shot from the hallway and everyone looks of in that direction. Hurriedly PIZZA hits another button, sending his large thrown forward and pushing Metallica into the pit. When it comes back, the floor is solid and clear* GONZO: Good one boss. PIZZA: Yes, it's all a rich tapestry. *One of PIZZA's PEONS goes to check out the disturbance in the throneroom's anteroom and is thrown back. MUSSHH enters the room with a COOKIEE, in chains and cuffs. MUSSHH: Ayyee Yeotee Chotoh (Translation: I want the bounty on this Cookie.) PIZZA: At last, we have the Cookie Chunkalunk. CHUNKY: (Growls) (Transltion : That's my name, fool! Don't wear it out.) PIZZA: Oh, Stinky-O! STINKY-O: Yes, I am here your worshipfulness. Yes? PIZZA: Do your thing. Standard offer. STINKY-O: Standard offer? PIZZA: In the manual. [/quote]
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