Subject: [Fanfic] Posting the title would ruin the fun Date: Wed, 02 Oct 2002 02:25:40 -0400 From: Dalton Newsgroups: alt.startrek.vs.starwars A cold wind blew through the narrow corridor...a wind that spoke of snow, ice...as cold as a night on Hoth. It chilled the man to his very bones. It was the cold of certain death, and it was unpleasant...but brief. A door closed gently, then sounded the rattle of an item into a container. The container itself then moved jerkily down the aisle, like an X-Wing in need of tuning. It was a float-cart with a faulty repulsorlift, which slammed into adjacent shelves every so often. "Damn it all," said the man pushing it. He always got the bad one. He managed to make it to the checkout line without further incident, then loaded his single purchase onto the belt. "Sir, please don't waste a cart for one item." "Fuck you." He scratched himself, and the cashier huffily ringed up the box. It was a jolly-looking item, packaged with garish colors and proudly marked as Emperor's Finest Rocky Roads Ice Cream. "That will be twenty-five credits." The man sighed, then dug out his wallet. "I hope you can process this third-party personal cred-check from Agamar..." IMPERIAL SUPERMARKET Another fucked-up fanfic from the twisted mind of Dalton, your Lord and God. Colonel Magiddy walked down the line of men, surveying his troops with a practiced eye. Uniforms were crisp, caps were straight, posture perfect...except... "Ensign Doe! You have a spot on your uniform!" The skewered ensign stood stock-still, not daring to look down, knowing his commanding officer's legendary contempt for men who couldn't control their movements. There was no escape anyway. "Explain yourself!" Magiddy bellowed. The ensign went wild-eyed with fear, managing to stutter out a response. "S-sir, I was just packing some meat-" He was cut off suddenly as Magiddy pulled his firearm and blew the young Ensign's head apart. "I will not tolerate sloppiness! What would our customers think, seeing a filthy piece of scum like this packaging their fresh, Grade-A nerf meat?" He waited for an answer; when one officer took a breath to do so, he cut in again. "They will think 'What slobishness! What debauchery! What kind of store is this?!' and promptly take their business elsewhere! Do you want the evil scum of Rebel Food Co. taking our customers?!" "No, sir!" came the chorus of replies. "I thought not. Clean up this mess, then back to your posts! We have a store to stock!" Megiddy stormed back to his personal office, which was right behind the meat presses and loading dock, and peered out the window. It was an angry peer; a peer that said a lot about the man issuing it. The peer was directed at the bright red sign of the Rebel Food Co. supermarket across the street. His enemy. The rebel scum had just opened up shop, and already their treacherous doctrine of freedom from the tyranny of the Empire and low, low prices had attracted a great deal of customers. The evil taste of Admiral Ackbar's Banana Chunky Monkey-Lizard already had a cult following in Coruscant's seedy overbelly. Megiddy simply couldn't understand how they could beat out the delicious, creamy taste of the Emperor's Finest Ice Cream, Guaranteed To Please or Your Soul Back. With flavors like Rebel Vanilla Scum Surprise and Tarkin's Doctrine of Fudge Fear, he should have had the populace of the planet licking the melted cream out of his hand. Some day, those Rebels would get what was coming to them...he swore it. He curled his hand into a fist, then went to check on the stock of Nerf Rinds. It was time to open. Stormtroopers patrolled the aisles, looking for stray items, spills and misarranged goods, laying the smack down on the luckless perpetrators. The floors gleamed with freshly-laid laminate; a chill from the meat section indicated refrigeration was well within the norm. It was shopping time. "Open the doors!" Megiddy ordered. With a flourish, Lieutenant Dorf pushed the button that unlocked the sliding doors. Megiddy put on his best smile, ready to benevolently greet the flood of customers sure to come rushing in. And they did rush in, all of them at once. In one body. With some difficulty. "Good to see you again so soon, my Lord," Magiddy said between clenched teeth. The man known as Lord Blarf glared at him sullenly, yanking his corpulent body out of the entry, then made his way to the frozen foods section, where he loaded fifteen boxes of Ewok-pops, paid and left. There were no customers for the next five minutes. One of the cashiers snickered, which was met with a pistol-whip from a nearby stormtrooper. Megiddy was livid. To think, the glorious Imperial Supermarket, empty on Market Day? There were Rebels, behind it; he felt it in his gut. Megiddy glanced out the window at the facade of the Rebel Food Co. outlet, which was from all appearances crowded. Airspeeders that couldn't find parking opted to use the completely empty customer lot in front of the other store. *His* store. Megiddy's eye twitched. "Lieutenant Dorf!" "Sir!" The Lieutenant straightened up. "Initiate Operation Persuade." "Yes, sir!" Megiddy grinned mirthlessly. The day of reckoning was at hand. The Rebel scum would rue the day they split from the glory of the Empire. He slammed his fist into his hand, swore, then ran down to the ice chest.