Humor... for a change...

In keeping with the purpose of this blog, I am posting a satire I wrote a couple years back of Shakespeare's Hamlet. With a stellar twist (heheh), I might add. :-) Enjoy and comment... :-)


The Empire Strikes Back
(A Satire of the Shakespearean Work, Hamlet)

Word Count: 4,124

Setting: On the planet of Europai in the city of Duunmahk
Main Characters:
Prince Hamlet: Young Jedi, son of Jedi Master Hamlet
Jedi Master Hamlet (Ghost): former Jedi Master of Duunmahk, killed by brother Clade
Jedi Master Clade: brother of former Jedi Master Hamlet, also his aggressor and current Jedi Master
Gatorade: former wife of Hamlet, now wife of Clade
Horatio: friend to Prince Hamlet
Rosenguild: former school-friends of Hamlet
Polock: King Clade’s counselor
Laertes: Polock’s son
Opium: Polock’s daughter
The Sith: leader of the Dark Side
Franz, Mark, Barnad: guards outside the Jedi Headquarters


Narrator:
Life for the Jedi of the Republic had changed dramatically over the past few weeks. Lord Hamlet, the Jedi Master, had gotten shot by some stray dart and died, much to the chagrin of the Republic. For the past few weeks, the Jedi Counsel had deliberated who would take over the position of Jedi Master. When no decision was quickly reached, one of the older Jedis, Polock, had suggested that Lord Hamlet’s brother Clade, take the position. For lack of a better suggestion, Clade was given the position. Meanwhile, Hamlet Jr., son of the late Jedi Master, had gotten together some of his young apprentices in order to make the suggestion that he take the place of his father. By the time this was accomplished, though, the former steps had taken place and Clade was announced Jedi Master. Though Hamlet regretted not receiving the position automatically, he kept quiet about it, and determined to take revenge on them later.
But alas, something was rotten in Duunmahk, capital city of the Republic. Only one night ago, a phantom of the late Lord Hamlet was seen by three of the guards outside the Jedi Headquarters. Those guards, namely Franz, Barnad, and Mark, had kept the revelation to themselves, hoping it had been just a figment of their imagination. Tonight, as we look upon the entrance to the Headquarters, we observe Barnad quickly approaching Franz, who stands on duty for the first four hours of the evening…….


Franz spun quickly around. Someone… or something, was approaching quickly from the bridge.

“Who goes there?!” he shouted, trying to project his voice over the howling wind.
“It is I, Barnad,” the person answered. “Have you seen anything?”
Franz sighed in relief. This guard business was hard enough in the freezing cold without having to keep an eye out for some phantom Jedi Master.
“Nothing doing tonight, Barnad. But you can’t see a thing in this snow. I didn’t notice you coming until you were ten feet away.”
“Drat,” said Barnad. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be that bad. I could see you from a good distance, but I suppose you standing by the light would explain that.”
“More than likely,” Franz replied, pulling out his watch.

“When on earth are Mark and Horatio supposed to get here?” asked Franz, obviously agitated.

“I haven’t a clue,” Barnad replied. “Sometime before long. Horatio wanted to come and see for himself this phenomenon, if it chooses to present itself. At the moment, Horatio thinks we all just passed out and had ourselves nice little dreams, somehow conjuring up the image.”
“BAH! If he thinks that, I’ll have his hide. There’s no possible way that that … that… thing(!) was fake. It came within 5 feet of me! I could even see the lines on his face! Horatio will have a fine tune to dance to if and when it comes back!”
“He certainly will, if he ever gets here.”

“Yea. Well he better get here soon, or I’ll just up and leave. My shift is over. And we that big celebration tomorrow requiring double duty of us. I wonder…”
Franz stopped mid-sentence, listening carefully at the sounds carried through the wind. Quickly he pulled out his blaster, aiming it in the direction of the bridge. Suddenly…

“Hullo, chaps! Blistery cold night, isn’t it?”
Franz grunted, obviously not amused.
“Well, hello Mark, and Horatio. I was beginning to wonder when you two would arrive. I was about to hike it back to my quarters without giving you the lowdown on the past four hours.”

“Oh! Has anything happened?”

“YES, you bird brain! That phantom came back, grabbed my by jacket, and lifted me up way over his head. I nearly fainted. I kept shooting at him, but it was like he had no body. And then….”

All of a sudden Franz fell over, laughter exploding from his lips. Mark and Horatio let out a deep sigh of relief. “Boy, you had me scared for a moment there,” Horatio chuckled. “I thought you might have actually met up with the phantom.”
“Heheh. Not quite. Though Barnad did half scare me out of my skin when he walked up. Now if it’s fine with the rest of you, I’m headed inside. This weather is enough to give a guy nightmares itself!”
Horatio chuckled. “Go on to bed, Franz. More than likely this is all a big farce anyway. I’m probably wasting my time and sleep standing out here with you three lunatics…”

Suddenly he gasped. Out of the midst stepped the phantom. Draped in a black cloak and holding a lightsaber in his hand, he walked steadily toward them.
“Shshshshould we do something, Horatio? Tell it something. Pull out your blaster and fire at it… ppppplease don’t let it come any closer!” cried Barnad and Mark.

“H-h-h-h-who comes before the Jedi Headquarters, esp. disguised as the late Jedi Master, Lord Hamlet? State your name and reason, p-p-please,” Horatio stuttered. Before he could say anymore though, the phantom stopped. To the surprise of the three guards, the ghost turned and walked away, as though it feared something. As soon as it had left, they took a deep breath and looked at each other.
“Well Horatio, what do you think of our dream now?” Barnad asked.
“Shut up, Barnad. If you ask me, our own living Hamlet should be informed of this ghost immediately.”
With that the three abandoned their position and hurried inside the headquarters, straight to Hamlet Jr.’s room.


The day before had been a difficult one for our dear hero. Newly appointed Jedi Master Clade had given a speech to the Jedi Counsel regarding his future hopes to come to terms with the Dark Side, and form a treaty. Hamlet had sat there in disgust, knowing that such a plan would never have occurred during his father’s leadership.
“It’s wrong,” he later told reporters. “I can’t think of anything more degrading than stooping to make a treaty with those that have rebelled against us. It’s disappointing.”

Over the course of the day, Hamlet discovered a new enemy in Clade’s trusted counselor: Polock. Determined to help Clade along in his endeavors for peace (or humiliation, as Hamlet would call it), Polock pressed him to make the treaty speedily and requested that he send his son, Laertes, off to the nearby city of Parisia to speak with the diplomats there. Clade eagerly agreed to this proposition, and before long, Laertes was packing his bags and two other messengers, Cornmeal and Valvoline were on their way. To make matters even worse, Clade decided to marry the deceased Hamlet’s wife, Gatorade. So besides having to follow the lead of a maniac Jedi Master, Hamlet Jr. suddenly got a new cookooed father to boot! So finally, at the end of the speeches and assignments, Hamlet made an early exit to bed, hoping to get rid of some of the stress.


Barnad, Horatio, and Mark found Hamlet walking around in the Headquarters saber-practice room, talking to himself.
“Well good morning, my friends, and what are you three doing at such hours in the morning. You look as if you’d seen a ghost!” Hamlet exclaimed.
“Haha! You couldn’t have hit that nail straighter on the head, pal, ‘cause that’s EXACTLY what we’ve seen!” answered Barnad.
Hamlet gaped at them. “You’ll have to explain yourselves.”
Horatio and Barnad then proceeded to tell Hamlet of the events that occurred that morning and were sure to include a minute description of the ghost.
“I say… you say he looked just like my father?!”
“Indeed, sir.”
“Well lads. You can be sure of this: I will take the watch with you tonight. If he happens to come upon you this time, he’ll have me to deal with.”
The group walked out, eager to see what would happen the following night.

After the Jedi Counsel had met yesterday, Polock had gone to give Laertes a few tips before departure. He found him talking to his sister, Opium.
“Now Ope, you must stay away from the young Jedi, Hamlet. He’s dangerous, and does not agree with Dad and Clade’s way of doing things. Moreover, I’m sure he doesn’t really love you, even though he acts like it.”
“Now, now Laertes. I’ll be fine. I know to beware of him, but I really don’t think he’s as dangerous as you say he is. Anyway, he’s the son of the late Jedi Master, the force is strong in him, no doubt.”
“No doubt you’re right, but remember, he’s treacherous.”
Opium sighed (what does Opium look like when it sighs?). “Very well, I will do as you say. Goodbye Laertes.”
“Goodbye, Ope.”

With that the two siblings departed, and Laertes turned to his father. Polock straightened his back and tried to sound fatherly.

“Now Laertes, my boy, I want to give you a few tips on this mission. First, beware of spies. No doubt there will be people following you around, just to make sure you don’t double-cross the Dark Side. Droids tend to be quite nosy and a bit uncomfortable, but just ignore them. Above all things, don’t get mad at them or get drunk. You will then make yourself look like an utter fool and will lessen their trust in us.”

Laertes sighed. He had heard this speech a thousand times before going on his missions.
“Very well father, I won’t forget. I haven’t failed you once… well… except for that one time when you asked me to bring back the magenta radishes, but that was mission impossible in the first place.”
“Bah! You could have done the job if they had been for Opium! Don’t give me that nonsense. Now look, you’d better run on and catch that transport, or you’ll be hiking it to Parisia.”
“Roger.”
“Laertes.” He paused. “May the force be with you.”
Laertes smiled. “And may the force be with you, father.”
Polock watched with a grim face as the transport took off. “He’d better pull this one off, or our hopes are dashed…”

*CRASH*

Mark slammed through the gates outside the headquarters. He was pale. “It’s coming! The phantom. He’s right behind me!”
Hamlet raised his eyes from the ground. He gasped as he looked upon the phantom of his father.

“Look! It’s calling for you to follow it! Don’t do it, Hamlet!” Horatio cried, fearing for his friend’s life.
Hamlet took out his lightsaber and shouted back. “I’m sorry Horatio. I must see what he needs. Stay here. I will be back!” He ran into the mist, following close behind the phantom.
“We’ll have to chase him! We can’t let him go alone!” yelled Barnad. The trio hurried after the Hamlets, hoping they weren’t too late.


“Hamlet, I am your father.”
Hamlet Jr. gasped. “Father! Oh, my dear father.”
“This is not a time for crying, son. There is work to be done. The Republic is falling to pieces. Your uncle is planning its ruin.”
“But what can I do about it?! I long to do something, but I don’t know what. If only you could help me! Why did that dart have to chance upon you?!”
“My son, that dart did not chance upon me. It was designed to hit me.”
“Well of course, we all know there is no luck. But …”
“No Hamlet, it was planned. Someone wanted it there. And that someone, was your uncle. The current Jedi Master.”
Hamlet gasped. “My UNCLE?!”
“Yes Hamlet, you must revenge my death. You must slay him.”
“But father, he *is* the Jedi Master, and the Force is strong in him.”
“Hamlet, you are my son. The blood of the first Jedi runs in our family, the Force is strong in you as well. But to finalize this meeting, you must take this from me. This lightsaber has been handed down in our family for generations. Use it well, and use it wisely. The blade will turn back any lightning used against you. Use it well. Use it well. Use it well….”
The phantom disappeared into the mist, and Hamlet rubbed his head in slight confusion. He felt dizzy.

At that moment, much to his delight, and yet also to his chagrin, his friends came up behind him.
He must make them swear never reveal a thing regarding the ghost. They must never let a word out…

Opium burst into her father’s office in a flurry. “Father! You should have seen Hamlet this morning! He was shaking like a leaf and was as pale as the snow outside! I’ve never seen him so disarrayed.”

Polock groaned… why was his daughter *always* so dramatic? He hated it. He had just been trying to arrange for a young paladin to trace his son’s footsteps in Parisia.

“My *dear* Opey, why on earth would you come crying about that? More than likely he’s just overcome with grief over his dear father’s death and is considering committing suicide! I can find very few things more encouraging to me than that bit of new, Ope. Now, I must finish my business here.”

“Father! I told you to stop talking like that! When will you ever learn?”

“Goodbye, my dear!” Polock broke in, eager to end the conversation. “Why don’t you go find some of the other girls and practice some saber moves or something?” He shut the door behind her, glad for some peace.

Not far down the hall, Clade and Gatorade themselves were thinking of different ways to get rid of Hamlet. They had finally found an old friend of his who needed to make some fast and easy money.

“Now Rosenguild, this *is* an important assignment. You must not fail us, otherwise the money remains in my purse. Do you get that?”

Rosenguild nodded eagerly. “Mesah glad to help, mastah! Mesah need the money too much to ruin Mastah Jedi’s mission. Mesah be glad to find out about old friend Hamlet.”

“Very good, Rosenguild. But be careful, he is witty, and treacherous.”

Rosenguild saluted and hurried off. He knew exactly what to do….

At that very moment, just as Rosenguild hurried down the hall, Valvoline and Cornmeal burst into the Headquarters.
“Well, well! My good friends, what news do we have from the Dark Side?”

The two messengers flashed a wink at one another. “Good news, sir! The sith sends his greetings and would love to make peace with us. He thinks it would help his, I mean, our economies in many ways,” Valvoline replied.

“Good, good! Capital, indeed! We will draw out the necessary papers as soon as possible. Very good, then. I believe that’s all, men. Thank you greatly for your services.”
Glade quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of notes.
“Take these to my banker in town and he’ll pay you accordingly.”
“Thank you sir!” they replied, eager to receive more drinking money. Tonight, they were going
to party!

Not much happened over the course of the next couple days at the Jedi Headquarters. Thing seemed to be going as planned for the Jedi Master and his fellow conspirators. Then one day, as a group of them were sitting around doing nothing, they decided to go the movies.

“I hear there’s this great new movie out: The Terminator. We ought to watch it!” Hamlet suggested.

Clade, who was first taken back by the title, became amused by the idea. “Why not? After all, (chucklechuckle), that seems to be the motto around here lately anyway!”
With that, they made their way to the closest theatre, used the force to snatch a few bags of popcorn and soft drinks, and got comfortable. All was going well. The movie was cool, exciting, and full of killing. *splat, ugh, aaaagh!!! Boom splat come from screen*

Then suddenly, the movie changed scenes from one of great killing to one of an older man walking around in his garden. All of a sudden a dart flashes across the screen and gets imbedded in his neck, eventually killing him. The camera catches a glimpse of a fleeing individual running down the street.

This scene, though uninteresting to most, caught Clade’s surprise. Immediately he felt a twinge of shock and pain jolt through him. He left the cinema immediately. Now it was Hamlet’s turn to be amused. He had been told of the scene, and hoped to see the Jedi Master’s reaction. His response fulfilled all suspicions he had. Now he knew what he had to do.

After settling down for a cup of coffee and quick look at the Finances section of the Droid Street Journal, Hamlet moseyed over to one of the practice rooms for you Jedi who were learning the use for their weapons. He took out his lightsaber and did a couple of flips, checking to make sure he was in practice. He wasn’t sure exactly what step of his vengeance he should meet out next.

“To be or not to be… that is the question,” he said. For almost an hour, our young hero considered life and death in that practice room, when all of a sudden, Opium walked into the room.

“Why hello Opium, how are you?”
“I’m doing well Hamlet, and how are you?”
“Quite flustered, strangely, I know not what to do with myself.”
“Perhaps take a break from writing these little letters…?” Opium asked in her sweet, enticing way.
“Bah. I haven’t written a letter in two years…. what letters?”
“Why, these love letters, of course, Hamlet. Don’t you remember?”
“I never wrote you a letter. It must have been my other schizophrenic self, not me.”
Opium raised her eyebrows. Hamlet was crazy… “Oh really…?”
“Yes… most naturally,” trying to sound decisive. He didn’t like standing here talking to his enemy’s daughter, even if she looked and smelled so… beautiful…
“Now!” Hamlet exclaimed suddenly, as if awaking from a dream. “I must excuse myself. It’s getting rather late, and I must run to chat with my dear mother for a quick mother-son conversation. Goodbye!”
“But wait! I must warn you! My father’s in…” The door slammed. It was too late.

Polock was deep in conversation when Hamlet knocked on Lady Gatorade’s door. At the sound if it he jumped, looked around, and dove behind her basket of dirty laundry which her droid forgot to take out. Hamlet walked in a second later, feeling a hidden force in the room, but unable to locate it. He forgot about it momentarily in his frustration and anger and immediately engaged his mother.

“My dear mother, would you mind if I tell you a story?”
“I’d love to hear a story, my dear, but couldn’t you wait until bedtime?”
“No mother, this isn’t a bedtime story, this isn’t for the fainthearted. It’s a horror story I’m writing, one of these days I’ll publish it.”
“Oh! Well… proceed.” She glanced over at Polock, hoping he wouldn’t move.

“I won’t take up too much of your precious time,” Hamlet said sarcastically. “I’ll give you the… Reader’s Digest Version. You see, there were two brothers. One was a great Sith. His brother wanted his position. However, he could not have it until after the brother died. So, after much planning and deliberating, the brother secretly killed the Sith, committing fratricide and yet becoming the next Sith. Then, (to make matters worse) he married his brother’s wife, all of the time hiding his secret and also trying to destroy the empire.”

“Why,” Lady Gatorade broke in, “this is horrible, what on earth would give you such an idea for a story?”

“YOUR story, mother. My Uncle, Clade, is this Sith. My father, your husband, was murdered. Murdered in cold blood by my uncle, the current reigning Jedi Master. But I will avenge his death. For look what my father’s ghost gave me!” *pulls out lightsaber*

*Gatorade shrieks*
*Polock is scared to death, jumps up*
*Hamlet, feeling the intruder before he moved, swung quickly around stabbing Polock in the chest*
*Gatorade shrieks again*
“Did I get him? Did I get my unc… aww rats… it’s Polock. Why you blundering, nosy….”
*sounds of Hamlet exiting while dragging Polonius*
“Remember what I said mother. I will avenge his death. Watch for it.”

Hamlet quickly disposed of his Polonius’ body in one of the nearby empty deep freezers and went back to his room to rest. He guessed that the next few hours would be quite strenuous for him.

*psst*

Hamlet awoke with a start to Rosenguild standing ten feet away.

“Mesah sorry to wake you, sir. But the Jedi Master Clade would like to know where usah have puts the body of Meester Polock.”

Hamlet groaned.

“In the paper shredder.”

“Bah… mesah know that bodies don’t go in paper shredders.”

“Fine, I don’t have time for you… go look in the deep freeze.”

“Thank you, meestah. The Master Jedi will be most obliged. And now, if you will excuse me, the Jedi Counsel wishes that you would meet them in Practice Room A.”

*sigh* “Very well Rosenguild. Tell them I’m coming.”

Hamlet strode in Practice Room A from the back door, to prevent any possible assassination attempts. “After all,” he figured, “more than likely this is the end of it. They will order be to leave the city forever or just go ahead and kill me now.” He fingered the lightsaber his father gave him…

The group that met in Practice Room A was actually quite large. The entire Jedi counsel had gathered there, along with Laertes and Opium. Laertes was obviously furious over his father’s death, and wanted Hamlet’s head on a golden platter.

“Hamlet, my son,” Clade began. “As you know, we have discovered the grievous the deed that you performed earlier this afternoon. It is a great sin to needlessly kill one of the Jedi Counsel, and even worse that you did it in hatred. For this reason, Laertes has come to us asking for the ability to duel you in a fight to the death. Do you accept it? It is either this, or your head anyway.”

“I will accept,” Hamlet answered, much to the delight of the crowd. This would be a duel for the ages.

Both Jedi were young and still had much to learn. And yet both were powerful, quick, and dangerous. As they stood in the middle of the room, exchanging courtesies, Lady Gatorade suddenly wished that Hamlet had not made this decision, but tried to escape. Laertes was treacherous.

At first the saber-play was simple. A slice to the right, a block, a slice to the left, another block, and so on so forth. Neither could get at the other for the longest time. “I’ll kill you, I will avenge my father’s death!” cried Laertes.

“Funny,” Hamlet responded calmly, doing a flip in the air to escape a swinging lightsaber. “I’m out to do the same thing.”

The duel continued for nearly an hour. Both were tired, when suddenly, as the fight neared the crowd, a *ping* sounded from near Clade. Hamlet paused, suddenly holding his neck in pain. He had been shot, with the same kind of dart that killed his father. He looked at Clade, then at Laertes. Then with a sudden last burst of energy, he threw his lightsaber at Laertes, piercing him in the chest. Then with a quick flip, he pulled out his father’s lightsaber, landed behind Clade and blocked his lightsaber, which somehow he lost hold of, slaying Gatorade. Hamlet paused for a moment in shock. Then, with a sweeping cut, he sliced his murdering uncle in two, just as he breathed his last breath. His father’s death was avenged.

Narrator:
This duel ended the bloodshed within the Jedi Counsel for the next few centuries. Never before and never again would such treachery arise from the Republic. After the duel, the Counsel questioned Franz, Barnad, Mark, and Horatio and received a full explanation for Hamlet’s actions, along with the confession of Rosenguild, who spent too much time with a bottle to get much important information from Hamlet. Opium died two days later of a broken heart, and the lines of Polock and Clade were eliminated.