Blog trotting again.

This time I didn't have to do much at all - I just handed young Philon over to Sue Roebuck and let her chat to him. I figured that everyone is probably bored with listening to me so I let a character have his say instead.

You know, Sue is a bit of a bad influence. She introduced me to the idea of writing original character fan fic with the original character writing Star Wars fanfic. Not really a possibility with historical characters so I used a contemporary one - Benedict Morcambe, Englishman abroad, trying to run a second hand bookshop not far from the university in Chicago and sadly afflicted by the rock band that practices in his garage.

Once the back door of the bookshop was safely closed behind him Ben let out the breath he had been holding. "Bugger," he said. "And bugger the lot of them. I do not sound like an Ewok, even if I am annoyed."
He usually had to run a gauntlet when he was crossing the back yard but today it had been worse than usual. For some people having a rock band practising in their garage would be no problem, but ever since Ben had taken over the leash on the bookshop they had set out to make his life, they claimed, 'more interesting'. Today they had found the cardboard tubes he had deposited in the dumpster. When he had got back with his groceries they had been dancing around, each with a tube, making light saber noises. The skinny one who sang and the big one who played bass had poked him until Lee the drummer and JJ - lead guitar and the source of some of Ben's damper dreams - called them off. That had been kind but they had been laughing while they did it and Ben couldn't help feeling annoyed.
At the shop counter with tea and a little Bach to soothe his ruffled nerves, Ben scribbled on his notepad, filling the yard with pissed off stormtroopers:

"Retreat to the repair shop," Lee Skywalker bellowed and he and JJ Solo covered the retreat of C3PO and Chewbacca, shooting from the hip and shouting defiance. But of course their luck couldn't last. Lee ran for it but JJ was caught, roughed up, just a bit - just enough to gently dishevel his hair and show some interesting bits of skin, and forced to his knees at the sinisterly booted feet of Daft Ada. "Ah Solo," Daft, to his friends, said."We meet again. You will pay for your dreadful smuggling ways. Captain, have him stripped and washed and taken to my private shuttle."
But Obi-Ben thought otherwise. "This is not the delectably tall, blond, buff, muscular adventurer with the regrettable sense of humour that you seek. The very worst crime of which he is guilty is budgie smuggling. No - look elsewhere. The robot and the Wookie went that way. Here's a tin of WD40 and some Nair."
"Gee, Obi-Ben," JJ Solo said once they had gone. "You saved my life - or my ass - how may I ever repay you."
"Oh we'll think of something," Obi-Ben said with a smile.
Gratitude - so much more ethical than the Force.