Excerpt from THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK

While STAR BORES is a complete full length novel, THE EMPIRE STRIKES OUT is actually only a parody of a single scene from some film with a, uh, somewhat similar name (*ahem*), and it was consequently included as a final chapter of the book. The nice thing about this "excerpt," though, is that it gives you some idea of how the rest of the book reads. Which is sort of like this . . .

Oatmeal Streetwalker was puzzled. He had already spent the better part of an hour wandering aimlessly about the cloud city of Dustbin, doing his best to ignore the numerous inhabitants of the city, who continually giggled and pointed in his direction. After a while, he realized the cause. Zipping up his fly, he continued his search.

Although he was supposed to be there to rescue his friends -- a bunch of morons who had arrived about a week earlier aboard the Beryllium Emu -- for him there was something else of a higher priority: surely they had a restroom somewhere around here.

He pushed open a door that was clearly marked: "Nitrous Oxide Freezing Chamber." Perhaps they might have one in here. He was no sooner inside, however, when a distastefully familiar voice echoed overhead.

"Shut the door, idiot," it said. "You're causing a draft."

Puzzled, Oatmeal turned to do as he was told, then remembered that it was an automatic sliding door. It had already slid shut behind him.

"What a dope," the voice continued. "I mean, geez, you want to talk about stupid."

Oatmeal stared about the room. He knew that voice. If only he could place it--

There was a movement at the top of a flight of stairs. Oatmeal peered up into the darkness. A tall shadow peered back down at him. Crater!

"You are not a Dedi yet," wheezed the Dark Lord of the Lithp. "And thank the Farce for that."

"You don't frighten me, Crater," said Oatmeal, reaching for his infrared broadsword. It took him nearly a minute before his shaking hand could grasp the hilt and activate the weapon. "C - come down here and I'll cut you into tiny little pieces."

"Hardy-har-har," the Dark Lord commented. "We'll see about that."

The evil Lord of the Lithp leaped down the stairs. He seemed to fly through the air like a giant, demonic bat, and Oatmeal reacted immediately -- he dived to the floor and cowered, holding his hands over his eyes.

"Yeeee!" screamed Crater as he passed overhead.

"Yaaah!" he continued as he sailed serenely into the nitrous oxide freezing pit. There was a loud crash, and then a more distant splashing noise.

Oatmeal didn't waste a second. He leaped to his feet and hit the primary "on" switch. A cold mist filled the pit.

"Funny," he said. "It wasn't as difficult as I thought. Maybe--"

He paused. The mist had subsided, but the Dark Lord was nowhere to be seen. The reason was obvious. On the far wall of the pit was an enormous hole shaped remarkably like Dark Crater in full profile. Through the oddly-shaped hole, Oatmeal could see several dark pools of foul-smelling sludge. But where was Crater?.

The sliding chamber door banged open. Crater stepped into the room.

"Of all the stupid places to put a sewage dump," the Dark Lord mumbled, still wiping the sludge from his armor. He saw Oatmeal.

"Aha!" he shouted.

"Oho!" said Oatmeal, scurrying up the steps and desperately looking for an escape route.

"It's too late, you interstellar juvenile delinquent!" Crater shouted. He reached for his light broadsword. "Now stand still and--"

A loud explosion rocked the chamber. A cloud of dark smoke surrounded the equally Dark Lord. His light broadsword has been shorted out by the sludge.

"Kaff! Kaff!" said the Dark Lord, somewhere in the cloud of smoke. As it began to clear, he noticed the useless remains of the light broadsword in his hand.

"Oh, fudge," he added. "When things go wrong--"

"Aha!" shouted Oatmeal, leaping down the steps with his sword held ready. Now was the time to attack -- when Crater was totally unarmed.

"Oh oh," said Crater. Thinking quickly, he used the great power of the Farce to rip out the metal wall behind Oatmeal, bringing it down so that the mountain of metal would crush the irritating adolescent.

"Now I've got you!" shouted Crater.

Sensing something amiss, Oatmeal spun around and saw the descending mass of metal. He shrieked and leaped to one side. Unobstructed, the debris thundered past him and dropped toward Crater.

"Oop," commented the Dark Lord, as he realized he had nowhere to go. He tried to make it to the sliding door, but it was too late. The metal smashed into him, and carried him through a large window overlooking the interior central shaft of the cloud city.

"Aaauugh!" said Crater as he dropped from sight.

There came a distant crashing sound.

Oatmeal ran across the room and peered down from the shattered window. Nearly one hundred feet below was a pile of metal on a large, flat landing platform. Sticking out underneath the pile were two arms and two feet: Crater.

I'd better finish him off while he's totally helpless, he thought. Bem would be proud.

A few moments later, he arrived at the platform. The pile of metal was still there, but of Crater, there was no sign.

"Behind you, idiot," came Crater's voice.

Oatmeal spun around.

The Dark Lord was standing behind him. In one hand, he held an ominous-looking weapon. Oatmeal recognized it at once: an Empire issue .155 mm. Grubermarley Harleyhonker. He didn't have a chance.

"Now toss that sword over here," commanded Crater, "and be quick about it."

Nervously, he did as he was told. But, unluckily for Crater, he forgot to turn it off.

"Eeyaargh!" Crater screamed as the blade severed his wrist. The Grubermarley Harleyhonker dropped to the deck. Oatmeal scooped it up and levelled it at the Dark Lord.

"Fool," said Crater, clutching at the stump where his hand had been but a moment before. "You don't know what you're doing."

"That's where you're wrong," said Oatmeal. He lowered the weapon and held out one hand. "I recognize the opportunity here, Crater. If you'll come with me and join the Rebellion, we could crush the Empire and rule the galaxy together."

"What about the rest of your do-gooding friends in the Rebellion?" asked Crater.

Oatmeal shrugged. "Aw, the hell with them. Let them get their own galaxy."

Crater nodded slowly in understanding, then reached to take Oatmeal's hand. It popped off in his grasp, and the Dark Lord fell to the deck, landing on his posterior.

"Yuk, yuk, yuk," laughed Oatmeal. "He fell for the old fake hand trick. What a twit."

Crater shook his head in disgust.

"I can't believe this," he muttered. "It's all backwards. I was supposed to get you to join the Empire, not the other way around."

Oatmeal stopped laughing.

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked.

Crater got to his feet and assumed what was supposed to be a dramatic stance.

"Because," said Crater, drawing himself up to his full height,"because I am your father!"

Oatmeal broke into hysterical laughter.

"Oh-ho-ho," he said. "That's rich. You? My father? Oh-ho-ho. And maybe pigs have wings."

"I'm telling you the truth!" shouted Crater. "Search your feelings, and you'll see I'm right!"

This comment only caused Oatmeal to go into greater hysterics. He clutched at his stomach and, still laughing, rolled off the platform.

"Oop," he said, realizing what had happened. He dropped from sight.

The Dark Lord crossed the platform and stared after the rapidly dwindling speck of Oatmeal. Sadly, he shook his head.

"What a klutz," he muttered.

Silently, he turned to leave the platform, picking up Oatmeal's discarded infrared broadsword as he did so.

With the way things were going, he thought, it looked like it was going to be a short sequel.

And then he was gone.