~*~ It´s the end of the world as we know it~*~
The Hunkettes were afraid. Very afraid. The Jedi Temple had offered to organise the best Halloween party ever. Okay, it wasn´t exactly all of the Jedi Temple. The sane ones had run a mile when they heard Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Yoda, Mace and Luke volunteer themselves.
Even Martha Stewart had bailed from Coruscant, wanting no part of Jedi tricks and treats.
~*~
In the Senate building, Darry´s employer was quizzing her. (Well, that´s what they called it at least.)
“So you dress up and eat sweets.” Palpatine paced the floor of his office while Darry spun around in the big executive chair looking balefully at the ceiling.
“For the hundredth time, yes.”
“Indeed, how does that make it any different from any other day?”
Darry sighed. “We dress up in costumes, not Calvin Klein.”
“So this is just another excuse to have one of those many festivals that Earth seems to have when you take the day off work, drink too much and buy lots of things in which to decorate the house?”
“I´m sure Hallmark would agree with that definition, yes.” Darry said.
Palpatine produced a thick slick-paged book. “I was sent this in the post and told it contained everything I needed for every Earth festival, from wrapping paper to decorations and costumes.”
Darry had a look at the cover.
LUCASFILM / ILM 2001 CATELOGUE
“Don´t even go there,” she warned.
~*~ It´s a mad world ~*~
“Right, are we all progressing in our duties?” Palpatine brought the meeting to order. The assorted Jedi and Sith sat together in a functional yet comforting circle, as they now tended to do from time to time after the April Fool´s fiasco.
“I´m still not sure I understand this concept of costumes, Master,” Maul said quietly, not wanting to show his ignorance.
Obi absently grabbed a handful of M&M´s that Palpatine had brought from Darry´s office into the meeting room in the Senate building. They sat on the long table with several bottles of water and other munchies. “Easy. You dress as a popular Earth icon.”
Maul blinked, not sure he wanted to do that much studying. Idly, he thumbed through a glossy book Sidious had left lying on the conference table.
“It´s very simple,” said Qui-Gon, eyeing his newest apprentice, now a teenager. “Even Anakin has chosen a costume. Although he and Obi-Wan had, I think, too easy a time researching.”
Obi-Wan and Anakin had, in fact, sat through hours and hours of Terran television. They were now up on the latest in QVC merchandise, Ginsu cookery and professional wrestling. Sometimes Qui-Gon questioned his calling.
“What are you dressing as then?” Luke asked the two padawans.
“Studs,” stated Obi.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Yeah, what he said,” Ani averred.
“I think we´re losing the plot here, people,” Palpatine reminded them of the agenda. “We still need to finish organising this party. Can we hear from the decorating committee?”
Qui-Gon was quick to respond. “I´m ready to start anytime. I´ve got the decorations. I´m just waiting for the staples, tape, hangers, and gluestick.”
Mace looked up guiltily. “I haven´t had time to get to the Coruscant Office Max yet. I promise I´ll go tomorrow.”
“Difficult to see. Always in motion the future.”
“Shut up,” Mace snapped at the small green gnome occupying the seat next to him. There was no end in site to the hostilities between these two pillars of Jedihood. Each was still playing pranks on the other. “Why didn´t YOU go?”
“Why you know. Replaced my personal ship with Tonka Toy you did. Fell hundreds of feet when trying to start it. Included batteries were not.”
“Okayyyyy,” hedged Palpatine. “Catering?” He looked at Luke.
“Ready. I´ve got recipes and everything. Martha Stewart has been paid off so now all I have to do is just talk Vicki into letting me into the kitchen.”
The other Jedi and Sith shook their heads, realising the enormity of this task. And then there was cooking for 100 people.
“What are we having?”
“It´s a surprise,” Luke said conspiratorially. “Bork, bork, bork.”
“Uh, huhhhh,” Palpatine moved quickly on. “Entertainment?” The group looked at Obi and Anakin.
“We´ve met with the Hunkette entertainment expert-“ Anakin began.
“He means Shelley,” Obi interrupted.
“- and she´s booked a Terran who´s supposed to be good for these kind of events.”
“Passed the buck, you did,” Yoda observed.
“And what exactly have you done?” Qui-Gon asked the Senator.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“I´ve been…busy.”
“Doing?”
“Organising.”
“Organising what?” Mace asked, kicking at Yoda´s chair under the table and nearly upsetting the M&Ms. Luckily Obi rescued them.
Maul thought he´d be helpful. “Organising a block-“
“Party!” Palpatine interjected. “I thought it might be nice to invite the neighbours.”
“There won´t be enough food,” Luke informed the waffling politician.
“Ah. Well, never mind, then.” Palpatine shot a warning glance at his apprentice. “Are we finished with business, then?”
Yoda sent an open bottle of Evian flying into Mace´s lap.
Yes, was the general consensus.
~*~ Welcome to the House of Fun ~*~
“Look, just be here, ok?” Shelley slammed the phone down. “Sheesh,” she said, accepting the drink from Vicki. “Why am I having so much trouble calling in my markers these days?”
Vicki, reverently packing away her Kitchen Aid in preparation of Luke´s culinary takeover, just shook her head.
“Ever since I wrote that kiss and tell article about David Lee and the boys for the National Enquirer, no one wants to play this gig anymore.”
“Gee, what a surprise.” Vicki looked at her butcher´s block full of knives and decided to hide it away.
Shelly took a healthy gulp of Jack Daniels. “You know, Luke IS a Jedi. He carries a lightsaber. I think he can be trusted with a knife. After all, he´s probably got more skill than you wielding one of them.”
Faster than light, Vicki grabbed a knife from the block and hurled it with blinding precision an inch above the hand Jael had been reaching out with in order to steal the last Oreo in the basket on the counter by the door. “NO BETWEEN-MEAL SNACKING!” Vicki shouted.
“I stand corrected,” Shelley muttered, she and Jack making a hasty exit.
~*~
Dor and Ziggy stood in front of the big mirror in the upstairs hallway admiring their costumes.
“Only four hours ‘till the party. Wonder if we´re gonna have some decorations…” Dor looked around the hall.
Ziggy unbuttoned another button on her blouse and hiked up her skirt a bit. “Well, if it´s dark enough, maybe we won´t need them.”
Dor looked into the mirror again. “Just make sure we don´t get these costumes mixed up when we return them.” She reached down to pull up a knee sock as Ziggy pushed hers down. “Somehow I can´t imagine Harmione Granger as a naughty schoolgirl.”
~*~
Laure tested out her swing, which hung from the ballroom ceiling. Below her, Qui-Gon, Mace and Yoda were busy setting up the “Haunted House”.
“Off that swing she must get. Decorations priority over costumes are,” Yoda informed his Temple brethren.
“Then YOU tell her,” Qui-Gon said, not getting in between a Hunkette and her costume (unless asked to, of course).
And just to prove the point, Bunny walked into the room, looking for her Jedi of choice. She had on (or mostly on) a skimpy dark green dress made out of the thinnest silk. Swishing over to Qui, she turned around, holding up her hair- the universal sign for “please do up my dress”. Of course, the Jedi Temple had left this lesson off the curriculum.
“Uh…yes. That´s a rather fetching dress, Bunny,” Qui-Gon said in his most masterly voice.
“You´re supposed to zip up her dress, dummy,” Mace called out to Qui-Gon.
“I know that!” Qui-Gon said, covering up his faux pas by quickly zipping up Bunny´s dress. She turned around, blew Qui-Gon a kiss and left the ballroom. “But as you can imagine, most women are asking me for help removing their clothing.”
“Ha!” Mace chortled, as Yoda tried unsuccessfully to mime someone sticking his finger down his throat.
~*~ Everyday is Halloween ~*~
The jack-o-lanterns were lit and they looked quite good, albeit, trying to carve a pumpkin in the shape of a hut isn´t easy.
The music blared- Shelley, Obi-Wan and Anakin put their collective heads together and come up with Marilyn Manson.
The Haunted House was…well, the boyz tried their best. Hanging rubber bats would have been nice, but the Jedi had opted for mynocks. Not too much of a problem, except they were about 50 times bigger than bats and had a tendency to chew on Marilyn´s microphone cables.
“Those aren´t eyes,” Emmy smirked, standing next to the buffet table and pulling her hand out of a paper bag, flicking one of the contents into her mouth. “They´re olives.”
Mace took the bag back and looked into it. “No, they are actually eyes. They´re Jawa eyes. Olives don´t normally glow.” He looked quite dashing, shirtless, eyes lined in kohl, gold and blue Egyptian headdress perched atop his head.
Emmy skewered one with a toothpick and dumped it into her glass of Absolut, the only alcoholic beverage Luke was serving, it seemed. “Sure, fine, whatever.” She tossed her red plaits over her shoulder and made for the dance floor, looking for Obi.
~*~
Tasha, dressed as a Trill, wandered about the kitchen, looking in pots and smelling the contents. “What´s on the menu, Sweetie?”
Luke pushed his floppy white hat out of his eyes for the umpteenth time and quite eloquently stated: “First we cook the chickie…”
Tasha looked at the smorgasbord arranged haphazardly on the counter, which Luke would shortly be taking into the ballroom.
Luke continued. “Vell, nu Svedeesh, perty vuoold be-a cumplete-a veethuoot ooteffeesk. A zeere's herreeng in a speeced mereenede-a, herreeng in coorry, herreeng in creem, herreeng in tumetu sooce-a, herreeng in ooneeun mereenede-a, herreeng in moosterd, herreeng in deell... Zeen zeere's zee verm feesh feellets und feeshbells.
Tara scratched at her spots as Luke continued.
“Um gesh dee bork, bork! Freekedeller eka "Svedeesh Meetbells. Zee verm meets leeke-a lefer pestej, doock, itc
“Sveets incloode-a, boot nut ell fur desert: Veeener brød, Eebleskeefer, rødgrød med fløde-a, Rees Ela Munde- und zee beeg, beooteeffool und su sveet it hoorts Krunsekege-a. Bork, bork, bork.”
“Uh huh….” Tasha made a quick retreat back into the ballroom in order to find Maul, hoping he had chosen a costume she could recognise.
~*~
Having lost the use of two microphones, Marilyn was now singing an unplugged version of “Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady.” Darry was slow-dancing with someone who looked shockingly like a 20th century English politician.
“´The empires of the future are the empires of the mind.´”
“Oh Senator, you say the most romantic things.”
~*~
“Where´s Obi? I haven´t seen him yet tonight.” Anne adjusted her cape and leotard as she stood next to Julia by the buffet table. No one seemed to be eating much, opting instead for identification of the food, rather than sampling it.
“I´m sure he´ll be along in a bit. I think he was helping Anakin with some last minute costume tips. AVAST!” Julia swung her cutlass at the small yellow creature attempting to take her hand and drag her out on the dance floor.
“Pikachu!”
“Go away!” Julia yelled at the Pokemon character.
“Just ignore him, maybe he´ll leave,” Supergirl advised.
“Dance with Pikachu you will.”
“Touch me and make into mincemeat Pikachu, I will.”
~*~
Han twirled Tiffany around on the dance floor. Her red and black dress flowed around her. His black robes did, too.
“Han, who suggested your dressing as a priest?” Tiffany shouted over the din of arguing voices.
Han looked up at the ceiling. “That chick on the swing,” he intoned.
~*~
Shiri stood at the top of the stairs in the foyer, which was completely covered in tacky fake spider-webbing. “Ani, what am I supposed to be doing up here? The party is downstairs.”
A voice shouted from below her, although she couldn´t see much for all the candy-floss-like décor. She had already had her wings caught in the stuff twice and really wanted some punch and food.
“How do I luff fvee? Lep me count fve waysh.”
“What are you talking about? I´m Tinkerbell, not Juliet, you dope.”
“I mow,” said Ani, emerging through the white floss. He had climbed up the outside of the staircase, a rose in his teeth. “But Obi tolth me thish ish more womantic.”
Shiri leaned over the banister. “Did he also tell you that the Jedi deliberately cut the staircase up so it would make creaking noises?”
“Huh? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Romeo went crashing to the floor as his date got trapped in the decorations again.
~*~
Uncle Sam looked around the room. He had done masterfully with the decorations, he thought.
Michelle delicately walked over and handed him a drink.
“Thank you,” he said. “I mean, I WANT YOU!”
“Ooh, yes, Master.” She blinked, attempting a little I-Dream-of-Jeannie mojo.
“Is there something wrong with your eyes, Little One?”
“Um, no,” Michelle said.
~*~
Obi walked into the ballroom. He surveyed the scene around him. The buffet was going more quickly now that Mace had fired up some Ptolemaic Egyptian ganja, the haunted house noises were being drowned out by the music and the girls all looked beautiful.
“Kick ass.”
~*~
“So what are you trying to do, exactly?” Jenn asked Jennifer, who was testing out her magic rod.
“I´m trying to summon a mist, since this dry ice is making me gag. I mean I am a sorceress, after all.”
Jenn had to admit, Jennifer looked the part; right out of something by Tolkien. “Can you do real magic?” Jenn asked, picking invisible lint from her Babylon Five uniform.
Darry strolled by, drink in hand. “Well, who else ya gonna call? Ghostbusters?”
“Right, that´s it!” Susan Ivanova punched Sporty Spice in the head.
“You bitch!” Sporty kicked Susan in the shin.
Jennifer kept coughing.
~*~
Monica stood near the stage discussing the finer points of high-kicking can-can steps with Aya.
“I dunno, I think the dress makes too much noise when you shuffle about,” Aya remarked, although how anyone could hear anything over Marilyn (and now a very inebriated “Pickle”-Me Elmo, alias Shelly), was a wonder. Course, it was unlikely that Marilyn knew all the lyrics to “Rock the Casbah” anyway.
Aya felt that being dressed as a vampire princess required clothes, which allowed for stealth, a theory she was going to test on both Qui and Obi.
The Sammie Hunkettes had had no trouble spotting Qui as Uncle Sam, but were unsure as to who Obi was dressed as. “Keep your eyes peeled,” Aya advised Monica. “And turn down the volume on those damn petticoats!”
Monica almost demonstrated the resilience of a can-can dancer´s shoes on Aya´s foot, but then thought better of it as they caught a glimpse of someone swaggering a lot like Obi, but about three times his size and wearing a red-parka.
~*~
“Maul!” Tasha´s voice sharply cut through the crowd. “Why are you dressed like that?” She grabbed him and pulled him into a dark recess of the enormous ballroom.
Maul looked down at himself. “The man at the catalogue centre said it was the most popular costume. In fact, it´s their biggest seller. Why would that be? Who would buy this?” He held out his arms and looked down at himself.
“Probably every kid in the world who didn´t want to be dressed as Obi-Wan,” Tasha remarked, realising that it was unlikely that anyone would recognise Maul in this outfit. They´d all think he was someone else. “Let´s dance.”
Tasha pulled him out toward the dance floor where they cut a rug. Maul had to admit, the costume suited him. After all, he was dressed as Darth Maul.
~*~
“C´mon, Obi, I know it´s you under there!” Emmy shouted at the large blue-hatted figure standing opposite her at the buffet table, stuffing his face with Swedish Cheesy Poofs. Pippi Longstocking started to irritably pull at her braids and stamp her foot. “OBI! I´m talking to you!”
“Screw you, guys…” Obi-Wan emptied the snacks basket into his trouser pockets. “I´m going home.” He made for the door, wondering how far he´d get before the Hunkettes rumbled him.
Not far.
“Dande!” Emmy cried. Dande grudgingly pulled herself away from Uncle Sam, who´d been counting the stars on her ass, and ran over to the table, her bracelets glinting off the giant disco ball. She took one look at the retreating figure of Obi-Wan and made a grab at her waist.
A golden lasso fell over Obi-Wan´s head and got stuck around his middle. He was dragged back to the table.
“Tell us who you are,” Dande ordered.
“No, Hunkette! That´s a baaahhd Hunkette!!” Obi shouted.
“You can´t lie, this is a magic lasso.” Emmy informed him.
“Maaaahhhhm!!! Do I have to talk to these strange women?”
“Obi, stop it. Just admit it´s you under there.”
“You WILL respect my authoritehhhhhh!”
~*~ Ya Got Trouble ~*~
“Ach- if another of those flying things comes that close to my hair again, I´m going, to skewer it!” Grace O´Malley shouted, ducking as a mynock almost clipped her head. She stood with hands on her hips and looked for something to throw.
Beside her, Claire Beachamp, sampling the bag of “eyes”/olives tried to stop coughing.
“Peg,” Meabhe said, “what is the matter with you?”
“It´s this bloody fake smoke. I wish that thing were turned off.” The girls looked around for Qui-Gon, but he was too busy trying to break up the scuffle between Eric Cartman and most of the Obi Chicks.
Sheri sidled up to Peg and Meabhe, Yoda in tow. She looked down. “Bugger off! Now!” Yoda thought about tugging her onto the dance floor by her long wenchly gown, but thought better of it as the three tight-bodiced women all glared at him.
Just then there was a huge explosion as the mynocks finally bit through the power mains.
“Remain calm! Now is not the end, it not even the beginning of the end, but it is, perhaps the end of the beginning.” Palpatine shouted over the ensuing shouts, clangs, bangs, and squeals.
“Shut up, Winston!” Meabhe yelled at him.
“Someone turn on the lights,” Anne suggested. Just then, one of the jack-o-lanterns caught alight.
“Oh, terrific,” Jennifer said, her eyes beginning to water. She pointed her rod at it, and uttered a spell, succeeding only in encouraging the flames.
The emergency lighting, installed since the Great Coruscant Blackout, came on.
“Um, is someone going to put out the curtains?” Laure called, watching the flames lick toward her perch above the floor.
Han grabbed a punch bowl and began striding over to the curtains. Tiffany swooned.
“I wouldn´t do that if I were you,” Monica warned him. “Shelley was in charge of the punch.” Han sniffed the liquid, then set down the bowl, slowly backing away from it.
Peg glanced down at the bag of “olives” she had been idly eating. “HOLY FRAK! These ARE real Jawa eyes!” She looked decidedly ill. And mad.
The fake spider webbing was next to go up.
“Would somebody please put out that fire before it does any more damage?” Michelle pleaded, looking at the group. Everyone just stared dumbly back.
“Smoky the Bear normally shows up when we set the place on fire,” Dor observed.
“Well, he doesn´t seem to be here now. And I don´t think we want to rely on the boyz.” Darry said, looking sidelong at Palpatine.
“I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat,” the Prime Minister said, looking for the nearest exit.
“Anyone else have anything useful to contribute?” Shiri asked.
“Pikachu!”
Ramses threw his sceptre at the Pokemon character. This failed to put out the fire.
Luke and Maul strode over to the buffet table at which Obi was busy. “Ziggyyyy…” he cajoled. “Are you gonna eat all your pahhiiiieee? No?” He tried to grab her pumpkin pie from her. Ziggy stabbed him with her fork.
Grabbing the huge vat of chickie soup and a plate of pickled herring, Maul and Luke marched to the spreading fire and threw the food at it, just as Marilyn´s hair was set aflame. He got doused.
“Well, all´s well that ends well,” said Qui-Gon, looking around the room at the burned up decorations, blackened pumpkins, soup- and fish-covered walls, belching smoke machine, and pissed-off Hunkettes.
“What is our aim? Victory, victory at all costs.” Palpatine lit up a cigar and idly tossed aside the burning match.
The End!
Happy Halloween Hunkettes!
Credits to: REM, Tears For Fears, Madness, Ministry, Meredith Wilson (The Music Man)