Bob the Bantha
|Win Survivor Tatooine I did not. Disappointed am I, you ask? For fourteen weeks, surrounded by doofuses I was. Eat bugs, live inside a sandworm carcass, live with Dooku though allowed to smite him down I was not, and do That Which Speak of Ever Again We Whall Not, I had to. Disappointed am I? Disappointed am I?!! Think, what do you? Hmm?|
Win any consolation prizes did I? Yes, a T-shirt they gave me. "Survivor
One other "consolation prize" I got. Bob the Bantha its name is. Actually, a prize he is not. This bantha the show's producers dumped on me. A blind bantha with a gas problem it is. If the word "pickle" you say, make the most toxic, stinkiest "windy" that ever smelled you have, it will. Related to his nervous problem, it is. Yes, an anxiety problem this bantha has. If to ride him you try, buck you off and run away (most likely into something) he will. If read how Bob and I met you have not, read it you must.
Left it on Tatooine I would have, but bonded with me it has. That its mother or something I am, it thinks. Stopped following me around, Bob would not.
But have any place for a bantha I do not! So a bunch of straw I laid down in a good secluded spot in the Temple parking garage. Actually, Windu's parking spot it was. Inconvenience Windu this will. But a sacrifice I am willing to make, that is. Yes, messy it would get. But what Younglings are for, that is. Also, a hundred pounds of Purina Brand Bantha Chow, I bought. Go through Bantha Chow like going out of style it is, Bob can. A nice big blanket I put down for him, and plenty of water I made sure he had. All comfy and set for the night he was, so up to my room I went so that finally get a good night's sleep I could.
So tired I was. Quickly off to sleep I drifted. About Dolly I started dreaming again.
"Dolly, get so matted and mangy, when did your hair? Sniff Sniff Smell like a bantha, why do you?"
My eyes I opened. Laying right up against me, Bob was. How the elevator Bob figured out or even fit in, especially since blind he is, I know not. Even know how fit through my door he had, I did not. But somehow up to my room he had made it. Unbearable this was, going to sleep in my room he was not! So to get him out I tried. Pushing him I tried. Pulling him I tried. Pleading with him I tried. Luring him out with Scooby Snacks I tried. Budge he would not!
Suddenly, Windu I heard from just outside my room say, "Hey, Yoda. I keep forgetting what's in that concoction you make us drink. Let's see, there's juiced turnips, womprat liver, hotsauce, and... oh I remember now! It's that juice you find in a jar of..."
Like one of those slow-motion re-enactments it was. "Nooooooooo!" I yelled out. Too late it was. Already out of Windu's mouth, the word "pickles" came.
When consciousness I regained, see I could that melted off the walls, all of my wallpaper had.
Coughing, Windu was, "Oh my *cough* god! I think I just saw my *cough* life flash before my eyes (and my head looked awfully good). And what has this done to my skin?! My beautiful skin! Aw man, now I have to burn my clothes and take a shower with a Brillo pad."
He thinks that rough he has it! Approve my room for use again, the Hazmat team will not. They say another month they might need.
In spite of all this, to the vet I took Bob. To have him checked out I wanted. Also to get him "fixed" I wanted. It turns out, already fixed, Bob is. Hmm, know that Bob is bobbed, I did not. Bad news is, Prozac the doctor prescribed Bob for his nerves. Mash it up in his food I must. The good news is, if enough Prozac I give Bob, let himself be ridden he will. So now, rides to the younglings of tourists who visit the Jedi Temple, I offer. Only four credits a ride it is. Hey, pay for the Prozac and Bantha Chow somehow I have to.
So now, a blind, farty, anxious bantha on Prozac I have. And lay down beside him at night until asleep he falls, I have to. Like being a pet-owner I do not!