Archive: Master and Apprentice and anyone else; let me know for
future reference
Category: Humor/Parody, POV
Rating: PG (I used the b-word, does that count?)
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Ditto
Summary: Master Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi embark upon a perilous
mission. Will Obi-Wan's training suffice? Can Yoda's wisdom win
out? Read and find out...
Feedback: Will be gratefully appreciated in all forms.
"Well, I'm ready Master Yoda," Obi-Wan Kenobi addresses me. He
is looking grave yet determined.
The young apprentice turns to face the dark, beckoning
doorway. I can sense his trepidation.
"Remember, find in there you will, only what you take with
you." I feel it is necessary to offer him some advice before he
enters the chamber. I have confidence that the boy's training
will lead him to make the right choices. He bows his head to me
than proceeds into the darkness.
I stretch my jedi senses outward, trying to mark his progress.
His feelings are turbulent, clouded. Finally the chamber door
swooshes open again and Obi-Wan slinks through.
"Well, Master," he asks me, "what do you think?"
"Makes your butt look big it does."
"What!" He is spinning in a circle now in front of the fitting
room, trying to get a gander at his backside. At last he
notices the three-way mirror in the corner and flies toward it.
"You really think it makes me look fat?"
"Fat I did not say, young apprentice," I explain. "Looking OK
the rest of you is. Only bulbous your butt is in those
breeches."
"Bulbous! Sith, I'm taking these off. Just a minute, I'll get
the next outfit." He returns to the dressing room. The air in
this shop is stifling. I look around for the salesgirl who
ushered us into this steam pit. She is nowhere to be found.
Typical.
"How are you doing Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan is yelling from his
stall.
"Roasting I am. No air conditioning does this place have?"
"Ask the salesgirl to turn it up," my young charge suggests as
he once again emerges.
"Gone she is. Probably watching holovids and drinking in the
back room she is."
"Oh, you're just mad because she asked you if you needed a
translator droid."
"Speak perfectly fine I do," I declare emphatically.
Obi-Wan's voice is soothing, "Of course you do, Master. It's
not your fault if not everyone can understand you. But you're
ignoring my newest outfit. So, opinions?"
"Too white it is. Pale it makes you. No good."
"But Master Yoda, I'm supposed to wear white. It's tradition.
Not accurate perhaps, but still. . ."
"Details I do not need, Obi-Wan. Wear you can the antique
white. More color it gives."
"That makes sense, " he ponders. "I think I'll try on that
creamy looking one."
"Do not think try. Do try, " I'm always quick with the wisdom.
Obi-Wan reenters the try-on chamber. I am looking around for
someplace to sit, but it appears this cut-rate boutique does
not have their customer's comfort high up on its list of
priorities. I plan to ask that cow of a clerk about it if she
ever shows her face again.
"OK, Master Yoda, how's this one?" Obi-Wan queries as he
rejoins me in his latest ensemble.
I slowly shake my head. "Learn you not your lessons, padawan?
Told you have I not that you should be mindful of the future?
Listening you were not."
"I'm sorry, Master," he is looking confusedly at me. "I'm
afraid I don't understand."
I sigh and try to keep my patience. It is difficult in this
heat. If only that idiot salesgirl would bring me a chair.
"Flared the legs on those breeches are, Obi-Wan. Sandals only
can you wear with them. Not boots. In fall the ceremony is. No
good to wear sandals after Labor Day is it. The future Obi-Wan
mind you it."
"Oh, of course, how silly of me. Hang on, I've only one left."
Force, I need to rest my bones. Where is that sales-bitch?
You'd think a venerable jedi master could get a little
veneration around here. A fold up chair or a squishy pillow
would be enough. Heck, I'd take an old log and a hand fan at
this point.
Mercifully, Obi-Wan appears again, sporting a very appealing
outfit. "Impressive, most impressive," I admire.
"Do you like it? I do too." He is preening in the three-way
mirror. "It's absolutely perfect. I'd love to have it..." he
sighs.
"Looking only we are. Told you that before we came I did," I
tell him, refusing to get suckered into a purchase.
"Oh, that's lovely. It's the last one too," a voice drifts
over my head. It figures. The sales-wench, obviously smelling a
commission, has finally decided to put in an appearance. Be
gone, sith-bait.
"The last one! Oh Master Yoda, I'd hate to miss out this. It's
perfect, you thought so yourself," Obi-Wan wheedles. "What are
the chances I'd find something even half as nice?"
I will not be swayed. "Just starting to look we are. Only two
dozen boutiques have we been to. More looking is needed." I am
firm.
"But Master, it's exactly what I want," he pleads. He is
making his eyes all big and teary-looking. Just like those
little statues I like in the card shop. What are they called
again? Oh yes, precious mammals. He is making himself look like
a precious mammal statue. Force help me.
"How much it is?" I can barely choke out the question.
"2000 republic credits. It's a bargain," squeals the
sales-hag.
"Two thousand! Holy bantha poodoo! No Obi-Wan. Too expensive
it is. Off you must take it," I am employing jedi relaxation
techniques to calm my rapid breathing.
"But Master Yoda," the young jedi says softly as he kneels
next to me, "just think of how pleased Qui-Gon will be when he
sees me in this. You've always told me that a good jedi
considers the feelings of others before himself." This is true.
He snakes his arm around my shoulder. "And I would be so proud
to tell him and everyone else how it was you who picked it out
for me. Then we could show the council how wrong they were to
say you had no fashion sense." A jedi does not pursue revenge,
but a little comeuppance never hurt anybody.
"And the best part is that this is something special just
between you and me. It's like that figurine I gave you for your
birthday last year. What was that called again?"
"Precious mammals."
"Yes! That's it! Precious mammals. Well, this outfit is just
like that precious mammals statue I gave you. I knew you would
like that statue because we have such similar tastes. And I
knew it would make you so happy. That's why I got it, you know,
just to please you. Do you remember what it says?"
Oh boy, he's pulled out the big guns now. This apprentice must
be employing dark side powers. I realize I am helpless within
his grasp. "Yes. Love you this much I do."
"Yes! That's right!" Obi-Wan flings his arm wide mimicking the
figurine. "I love you this much." He turns his large eyes on
me. "And I do, you know."
I sigh. "Wrap it up."
"Oh thank you Master!" Obi-Wan laughs and gleefully squashes
me in an enthusiastic embrace. He jumps off and heads toward
the dressing room.
"Good choice, sir!" the nasty clerk declares. I fear she too
will try to hug me, but I discourage her with the pointed end
of my cane. Looking let down, she asks me for payment. I dig in
my robes for a credit card. Sith! Too many pockets. Is that it?
No. Wait, maybe here. Nope, not it. Hey, that's where that
went. I looked all over for that.
The sales-nag is tapping her foot impatiently. My lightsaber
and I consider putting an end to the annoying click-clack. She
is saved as I find the credit card and hand it to her.
"Thank you... Mr. Windu, is it? I'll be right back Mr. Windu."
So leave already, bantha-butt.
Obi-Wan completes his clothes change and we walk towards the
check out. He is carrying his new prize and smiling. I absorb
his happiness with my jedi senses and notice the room does not
feel quite so unpleasant anymore.
"You know Master Yoda, I was thinking," he muses. "We still
have time, why don't we check out that shoe store on the
corner? They might have some boots to go with my outfit."
"Go we can. But looking only. No buying, Obi-Wan." I am firm.
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