(no subject)

[froodle]

Now that my exams are over, I've been trying to come up with a sequel to Of Stuffed Unicorns and Stretchmarks. Unfortunatly, though I have ideas a-plenty, the giant sign in my head that says "Babies = Bad" is stopping any of them from really getting off the ground. So in the grand tradition of flaky New Age-types and Star Wars nerds alike, I decided to try meditation. Let's just say, it was not my best idea ever...

Froodle: *communing with the Force*
Force: Howdy. What can I do you for?
Froodle: Oh Force, I fear I have accidently written myself into a literary cul-de-sac...
Force: You know what you need? To kidnap Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen and force them to have sex at gunpoint.
Froodle: Um...
Force: Oh come on. That would be totally hot.
Froodle: Well, yes, but...
Force: Search your feelings. You know this to be true.
Froodle: ...wait a minute. You're not the Force at all! You're Darth Vader!
Darth Vader: Damn.
Froodle: What are you doing in my head, Darth Vader?
Darth Vader: Nothin'.
Froodle: You've killed my subconscious, haven't you? That's why my story is going all wrong.
Darth Vader: No...
Froodle: Liar.
Darth Vader: Froodle. I am your subconscious.
Froodle: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Darth Vader: *slices off Froodle's hand*
Froodle: Awww, crap. Now how am I going to write?
Darth Vader: Deal with it.
Froodle: Man you suck, Darth Vader.

Stupid Darth Vader.