Friday, March 31, 2006


It's been a heckuva long while since I've updated, mostly cause I been spendin my time in TVLand. The tellervision commercial showed a map, see. Turns out, TVLand weren't a planet, it was on the Ichtor. That was exactly where I took Mace's speeder. Luckily, Mace had auto-pilot, so I drank all I wanted on the way there.

When I arrived, it was a huge diserpointment. First thing I noticed was the big ol banner across the top of the entrance, sayin' "Welcome To Funland!" Most'er it was torn up and it was hangin up by a thread. Someone oughta fix that, I tole myself. Looking past the gate, I couldn't see much. There were a few rides in sight, but they was all so far apart. The ground was all covered in dirt, like all grounds are, but them grounds was also a dust cloud, and it seemed like people littered over 'em. A few people could be seen, coughin up smoke.

"Hoo-wee," I said to myself. "That's a real dump right there." It suddn'ly dawned on me I'd be spendin whatever time it takes to find Ernest in there. I suddn'y missed my room, the pieces o' small toys on the ground that hurt the bottom of yer feet when you accidentaly step on 'em, the way ever'thing was coated in a delicious orange, the comfortin' haze of cheeto dust that blinds you a second after you enter the room. They prob'ly didn't even sell Cheetos here.

I got in line; luckily, it was real short. The people in fronta me didn't seem real excited. I guess I couldn'ta blamed them. TVLand dain't look real fun.

When I got to the ticket feller, he tole me I needed thirty credits. I didn't even know I was s'posed ter have credits in order to get in.

"Well cain't I come in and pay you later, Mister?" I asked him.

"We're sorry, but we have strict policies. No money, no entrance."

"Well, you see, I hafta kinda find this friend of mine. He should be in here, and if he ain't, well some other fellers I know might be right." The ticket buy raised his eyebrows.

"Right about what?"

"Well you see, they say he's dead."

"I don't know what to say, Mr. Kenobi. Perhaps we should phone the authorities about this."

"No!" I shouted. I remembered somethin Anakin tole me. Keep the mission low profile, or else there could be serious trouble. "I'm sorry, Mister, but this really is kinder private. I ain't sure they could do much to help." His curiosity immediately turned into suspicion.

"Look, I've been here for four hours straight, I can't tell words apart because my eyesight's gone blurry for staring at them for too long, and I really can't be playing games right now." He paused. "So who is this friend of yours? We can track him down right now with our camera system."

"Erm - that won't be necessary," tole him, thinkin' it might be best not to give away Ernest's name. This man was makin' things extremely difficult. It occured to me it musta been ages since he had one o' them spice-brownies. "Wait, I know." I dug my hand in my pocket. It came out holdin a bag of Cheetos.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kenobi," he was growin impatient, "We don't accept-"

The instant I opened the bag, Cheeto dust flew out. Not just any Cheeto dust. It was one o' them extra spicy Cheeto bags. That one short little feller in the brown hood saw to that. Immediately

When the haze lightened, he was sittin' there, grinnin like a dopehead, eyes all glazed up. I never seen anyone smile so big.

"Huh huh huh... " he started chucklin like an idiot. "Wow, that fixed my eyesight.... What was that?"

"Them's Cheetos." I tole him. "I thought it'd cheer you up." I thought for a second. "Lissen, it ain't gonna be long. My friend ain't that hard to spot, alright if I only take a peek?"

"You know what? You go right on ahead... I... I... I don't know."

"Gee, thanks." I tole him. "I'll be real quick." I ran past the ticket booth and into the big ole dusty mess of a park. Next thing I realized, I was lost.