Imposters in the Temple, a scriptfic

by Carrie Grey (erryn@eskimo.com)



Rating: PG-13, for a little language and innuendo

Thanks: To betas Tiki, Callisto, and Shadow. You guys are awesome.

Archiving: Anywhere it's posted, others ask.

Feedback: Yes, at erryn@eskimo.com

Disclaimer: LucasArts, Inc. owns all the components of the Star Wars Universe, and this is a piece of nonprofit work. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is either A) a coincidence B) a guilty conscience, or C) the result of one too many Bushmills' and Guinness.



"Sally Resse Japhael - Live From Coruscant"

(We open on a slightly surreal vision of the normal Sally Jesse audience. Instead of drooling psyschopaths, we instead have people who *look* like they belong in the Star Wars universe... who also happen to be drooling psychopaths. Sally Jesse enters.)

SRJ: Hello, everyone. Today's show is a bit different.

Ed McMahon: HIYOOOOOOOOO!

SRJ: Get off, McMahon. You're on the wrong show.

Ed McMahon: HO, HO, HO!

SRJ: Fat sycophant.

Ed McMahon: You may already b - (Gets fried out of existence by Boba Fett to a standing ovation)

SRJ: Much better. Now, as I was saying, we're coming to you *live* from the (looks down on her notes to see if this is correct) from.. Coruscant?

Audience: (in unison) THAT'S RIGHT, SALLY!

SRJ: Weird. At any rate, today's theme is "Jedi Masters and the women who love them".. or something like that. Well, let's bring out a man who calls himself Qui-Gon Jinn. (Queen's "I Want It All" heralds the arrival of an absolute hoard of fawning women - except for one, who remains curiously silent - a young man and some big bearlike guy in a robe.) I'm guessing you're Qui-Gon Jinn?

Qui: That is correct. My padawan is known as Ben Kenobi.

Ben: How wise of you, master. (The verirtable harem of women begin fawning over Qui-Gon, in particular a small, scrawny woman with dark hair and a jaw like a prize fighter, who is attempting to climb him like a tree while batting all the other harem members away.)

SRJ: (mutters) Great. I get rid of one sycophant, and suddenly I have The Radio City Rockettes on Spanish Fly and some geek who looks like a reject from a Leo DiCaprio lookalike contest. (normal volume) Uh... yes. Now, Mr. Jinn..

Ben: (w/ apopleptic rage)That's MASTER JINN, YOU (He says Master Jinn like one word: Masterjinn)... (the harem begins growling, their beads and braids a'flyin'..)

Qui: (rolls his eyes) Please, padawan. Sally, you can call me Qui-Gon if you like.

SRJ: Spiffy. As long as you keep a leash on Norman Bates the second, there.

Ben: Mother?

SRJ: *ahem* Now, you say your group is here today to protest a great and tragic wrong that was done to you.

Qui: (nods sadly) A traitor in our midst.

Ben: Yes, a traior!

Harem: (singing this, like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir) Traiiiittoooorrr!

Cleese: ALBATROSS!

SRJ: Get off, Cleese, you're on the wrong show.

Cleese: Sorry! (leaves)

SRJ: Yes, now...

Ben: YES! She was a TRAITOR! A foul, hell spawned DEMON in our MIDST!

Qui: Er, padawan..

Ben: Venomous, rancorous...

SRJ: Uh...

Ben: (really off his rocker, now) FOUL HAG! WE'LL HUNT YOU DOWN YET! WE'LL... (Qui discreetly clobbers him in the back of the head with a sort of stick)Oooo.... (falls)

SRJ: Uh.. yeah.

Qui: Sorry about that. He's usually more reserved.

SRJ: Reserved for a lunatic asylum, maybe.

Qui: Well, we all have our pecadilloes. (The Harem begins fawning all over him... again, except for the one who remains in the back... taking notes. Hmmm...)

SRJ: I don't care if he's got *armadilloes*, he's a head case.

Qui: Please, Sally. We were here to speak of the great misfortune that has befallen us.

SRJ: You mean besides El Kabong, there?

Qui: Pardon?

SRJ: Sorry, sorry. Now, you had a traitor...?

Qui: (nods sadly) Yes. One I had taken to my heart, and to my bed.

Ben: (sitting up and rubbing his head)Evil, manipulative, man stealing..

Qui: (whispers) Quiet, kid, or do you want a swift belt in the head, again?

Ben: (brightly) You mean, the game where I wear the lizard suit?

Qui: Oh, God...

Ben: Oh, boy!

SRJ: Uh.. yeah.

Qui: (desperately) She caused us to be evicted from our *homes*.

SRJ: Now, that isn't very nice, I'll admit.

Ben: Yeah, she caused a DROUGHT!

Harem: (as one.. except for the loner) She brought plagues of locusts!

Ben: FAMINE!

Harem: Fire!

Ben: (beginning to foam at the mouth again) FLOODS!

SRJ: Uh oh...

Ben: (completely gone) Why, she caused the END OF CIVILIZATION AS WE KNOW IT!

Qui: (getting caught up in all the excitement) HURRICANES! (Kenobi and the Harem pretty much tackle Jinn and begin molesting him)

SRJ: I think we need to go to a commercial break, NOW.

Kenobi: You wore the CINNAMON SCENT! You kinky bitch!

Qui: (to a Harem member with orange hair who appears to have a horseshoe crab glued to her forehead) Hey, baby, wanna see my lightsaber?

SRJ: COMMERCIAL!

(We got to a commercial for Gallo Wine, one for Tidy Bowl, and one for Mentos. It's the freshmaker, you know. When we come back, order has been restored..ish. Kenobi is out cold again, the Harem has been muzzled (except for that one loner is still taking notes..) and Qui Gon is making a concerted effort to regain his composure. He's also trying to remove the hand of a heavyset blond harem member wearing fairy wings from the front of his trousers. Sally, it should be noted, is carrying a large club and is obviously the one who brained Kenobi. Her hair is a mess, and her glasses are slightly askew.)

SRJ: Okkkaaaayyy, we're back with "As The Jedi Turns".

Qui: I'm truly sorry, Sally. I.. I normally don't forget myself like that.

SRJ: Whatever. Now, backstage we have some people who'd like a *word* with you.... Wymie Flickstein.

Qui: But my name is..

SRJ: It's Wymie Flickstein, not Qui Gon Jinn, you impostor.

Wymie: (attempting to retain his composure) Oh, and just how did you come to that brilliant conclusion, Poirot?

SRJ: Well, it wasn't speech analysis, that's for sure. I had some help from *them*. (Cue the Star Wars theme as the *real* Qui Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi storm out from the back, eyes burning)

Wymie: Uh oh! (Tries to run, the real Kenobi trips him up and slams him back in the chair) Wh.. where did you...

SRJ: Oh, that's not all. We've got somebody *else*. (Out from the back comes a stunning young woman, tastefully dressed in black leggings, a tunic, and soft leather boots, auburn hair tied back in a loose ponytail.)

Wymie: Not YOU!

Young woman: Yep. Me.

SRJ: Pardon me for saying so, but those boots are exquisite!

Young woman: I just love my F*ck Me Boots.

Ben: (rising from the ground, sits by Wymie) That's Finely Made Boots, you ....

SRJ: Oh, put a sock in it, laughing boy.

Wymie: I'm ruined.

SRJ: *Snort* Not a great loss, as I see it.

Ben: Don't worry, master.

Wymie: Shut up, kid.

Ben: Why, we can go home and I can put on the lizard suit..

Wymie: Shut UP...

Ben: (twitching) You can get out the crate of guava melons...

Wymie: Here we go again...

Ben: (really unhinged, now) Queen's Greatest Hits...

Wymie: You DO know my weakness.

Ben: (totally raving) I'll get the WD40... (a squad of police come in and grab him) HEY, what are you doing?

Policeman: Got an arrest warrant for Mr. Happy, there.

Wymie: For?

Qui-Gon: Bad acting.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Illegal use of a guava melon.

Policeman: (squints at the warrant)...blah...blah....carnal activities.....blah, blah.....four-legged creatures....yadda, yadda, no permit.....(shrugs) Looks like you're just an all around bastard.

Ben: (totally gibbering) IT'S ALL HER FAULT!

Young woman: (Pointing to Sally's club) Mind if I borrow that?

SRJ: By all means. (The young woman grabs the club and whacks Ben one right between the eyes)

Ben: Ow. (falls over, unconscious)

Qui-Gon: (approvingly) Nice swing!

SRJ: I've got to ask, how DID you two find out about all this?

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan Kenobi: (in unison) Her. (The note taking Harem member steps forward)

Qui-Gon: Permit me to introduce my... mole, if you will, sent by the Jedi Council themselves. E'D'nad, you did well.

SRJ: Well, what a day this has been. Join us next time for Hermaphroditic Gay Left Handed Dentists With Hangnails Who Forgot Their Mother's Birthday. (to the Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, E'D'nad, and the young woman) C'mon, let's blow this popstand. I know a place back on Earth that does Irish Coffee that is to die for, out on 25A on Long Island.

(fade to black)



THE END