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eat some cookies.

Didn't you hear? He was struck down in the CC.

Spam wars is updated.

seconds ago.

The atmosphere within the Cookie Castle was something Luke could never have prepared himself for. By all accounts, the interior should have matched the jaded and discarded exterior, however the interior was lush with vibrant colors smattering the walls. Members as diverse as the flavors of cookies offered chatted and ate, all the while enjoying the enchanting music of the Hippie Jesus Cantina Band. DMaster watched with amusement as each band member rocked out and moshed together on stage to a jazzy upbeat tune.

T-3CO hobbled in, nearly toppling Luke as his sensor board and stress level rose as the catalogue of rogue members could be seen at every both and bar stool. A young man stood on the opposing side of the bar, refilling glasses while also dishing up plates of mouth watering deserts. Repliku silently extracted himself from the group, and before DMaster could notice, he was elbowing his way along the bar, striking up a conversation with the man who nodded, and pointed toward a towering figure dominating the far end of the bar.

DMaster walked forward, heading toward Repliku, until a shrill alarm echoed from the archway. DMaster turned, staring at a security grid separating T-3CO and SORA-13 from entering. The man turned toward the doorway, “We don’t serve their kind.”

Luke looked back at the bartender, confused. “What do you mean their kind?”

The man scowled, “Droids are unwelcome here. They will have to wait outside, we don’t serve them.”

As DMaster prepared a challenge, he noticed that a number of patrons had turned their focus directly towards him, some resting their hands beneath tables, unholstering weapons. DMaster turned, swallowing loudly. “Maybe it’s best you both wait outside…you know put quarters in the meter and stuff like that…”

“I believe that to be the wiser of two evils sir.” TCO expressed, glad to be rid of having to enter any further. This appeared to have pleased the onlookers as the din of conversation returned to full regalia.

Luke took stock of his surroundings as he approached the bar, noticing that Repliku was deep in conversation with the being at the end of the bar still. DMaster stepped up quickly to the bar as a position opened. The man behind the counter sat slowly polishing a plate, never taking his eyes off of DMaster. Quickly, DMaster scanned a menu. “I’ll have a plate of peanut butter cookies.”

“Sure thing kid,” the man announced, rummaging beneath the counter and extracting a plate and slamming a battered notebook down next to him. “Sign your nickname.”

“My…nickname?”

“Anyone who purchases cookies from her holiness Amber must register their nickname.”

DMaster stood staring at the man momentarily, trying to guess as to his, “What’s yours?”

“Evil DF, want to make something of it?”

“No not at all…put me down as…Spartacus.”

As DMaster sat enjoying his meal, he couldn’t help put watch the bustle of small talk expand around him, realizing that this was the first time he had been in a location with such diversity. As he went to take a bite, a hand thrust forward, shoving DMaster aside. He whirled, bits of cookie crumbs peppering his shirt. “What was that for!?”

A young member pushed again, this time spewing off a flurry of profanities and gestures before turning away. Another member walked up, sizing DMaster up. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Umm…sorry?

“I don’t like you either. You just watch yourself, we are wanted men—“

“Speak for yourself Rhopper. I’m a GIIIIIRL!!!”

Rhopper turned, his eyes menacing, “STFU Flyn! We have perma bans in twelve forums!”

“You may want to be careful…” DMaster whispered causing Rhopper to turn on him.
“YOU’LL BE DEAD!”

A cough caused the three to turn as Repliku stood just behind DMaster, hands hidden beneath his robes. “This little one is not worth the effort, allowing to buy you both cake.”

“THE CAKE IS A LIE!!” Flyn roared, throwing DMaster aside as Rhopper charged Repliku, unholstering a blaster.

DF ducked, diving behind the bar, “NO BLASTERS!!”

Repliku juked left, avoiding a repeating blaster pattern that struck the far wall. A burst of blue light sliced forward as a scream ripped through the silent bar. Rhoppergaurd lay on top of Flyn Pnut, both unconscious and in a state of paralysis. Repliku smiled, extinguishing his lightsaber and brought it to his lips; pretended to blow out steam. “Banned.”

The bar stared in wonderment as Repliku picked DMaster up off the ground, flipping a credit chip toward DF and led DMaster toward a door in the rear of the Cookie Castle. A young woman stood before the door, dressed in flowing robes and holding a handheld scanner. “Welcome to the Premium Section of the Cookie Castle. May I see your club cards?”

Repliku extracted a small disc and handed it to Amber who after hearing a series of beeps from her scanner, returned it to his hands. Her focus turned to DMaster, “And yours?”

“I don’t—“

“The boy is with me. As admin, I think that that is sufficient means of entry.”

Amber nodded, moving away from the door, your table is fifth from the right.”

***
The mood within this section of the Castle was more relaxed, apparently the local riff-raff were refused sanctuary where only those truly looking for a quiet corner could discuss business. Each booth that they past appeared empty save for the rare glimmer of movement beyond what appeared to be faux-glass. Two shadows sat around a darkened table at the fifth booth, their silhouettes casting a mysterious yet warning aura. Repliku moved forward, placing his palm on a small identi-pad located to the right of the glass. A sweeping teal laser materialized from nothingness as the faux-glass dissolved away, revealing the being from the bar and a young man dressed in a dark smugglers outfit, unkempt hair, and his face hidden behind an unknown shroud.

“My co-pilot has informed me that you both are looking for a way out off of this rock and looking for passage to the Staff Lounge.”

“Yes, indeed we are, as long as your vessel is a fast ship.”

The words hung momentarily as the pilot cleared his throat, an odd edge to his works. “Fast ship? My ship did the Spam Zone Run in less than twelve parsecs.”

Repliku and DMaster stared as the pilot continued, heartily enjoying the opportunity to boast about his ship. “I’ve outrun Insider starships, not the local bulk cruisers I’m talking about big V-Bulletin ships now. She’s fast enough.”

DMaster’s hand hesitantly rose, attracting the attention from all present. The pilot chuckled and nodded toward him. “I was under the impression that a parsec was a measurement of length…not time.”

“Technically, it is the measurement of length of roughly 3.26 lightyears. How exactly can you complete the Run in twelve seconds? I mean, you’d have to be travelling at somewhere close to Warp 8 to reach that time frame.” Repliku added.

“While we are on the subject, what exactly is the Spam Zone Run? Is it just a leisurely jog or a full on space ship race?” DMaster inquired.

The pilot shifted, agitated. “Damn it Jim, I’m a writer not a astronomer!”

The table grew deathly quiet. The co-pilot extracted a small device and after a flurry of key movements, an image appeared on the pilots same device. “Wolfie here asks what cargo you are intending to transport? She’d ask herself, but has a bad case of flem.” On cue, Wolfie attempted to express her frustration, but all that came about were unintelligent guttural growls and moans.

“The transport is myself, this boy, two droids and no questions asked.”

The pilot leaned backwards, allowing a tuft of hair to dance in a rare breeze. “You both in some kind of local trouble?”

“Let’s just say that we want to avoid any….Insider entanglements along the journey.”

The pilot nodded, his mind briefly flashing back to a botched smuggling of pirated Napoleon Dynamite dvd’s to the different sections thanks to the Insider’s and their blockcade. “Well that is the real trick isn’t it? I could say that at this moment you are being watched by half a dozen indviduals on the other side of this glass hell bend on ascertaining a few additional credits. For personal preservation, I give those Insider’s a wide berth. But for the additional heightened security, you are looking at this costing ten thousand credits, all in advance.”

“Ten thousand!? We could buy our own ship for that price!!”

“You could kid, but who’s going to pilot it…you?” the pilot snickered.

“You’re damn right I could I’m not that bad of a pilot myself,” DMaster glared at Repliku, “We don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”

Repliku nodded, but remained seated, calculating within his head. “We can over you five thousand now, plus and additional fifteen thousand when we reach the Staff Lounge, safely.”

The mood at the table quickly transitioned from tension to shock. “Twenty thousand huh? Well then…ok you’ve got yourselves a ship and a pilot gents.” The pilot leaned forward, his face now coming clear as a pair of aviator glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. “Names Shades. We’ll leave as soon as you are ready at Docking Bay 94.”

“We will be there within the hour.” Repliku announced, leaning forward and shaking Shades hand.

As he did, a commotion near the entrance could be heard as a pair of spamtroopers pushed Amber aside and began to examine the room. “Looks like someone has taken an interest in your handy work. Be best if you both sneak out the backway.”

Repliku grabbed DMaster and hurriedly raced for the door, “I believe that we may need to sell your speeder to get the five thousand.”

“Fine with me, I’m never coming back to this rock again.”

Moments later, Reptar and Famous were at Shades and Wolfie’s table. “You both haven’t seen an older man and a young normal member in this section have you?” Reptar demanded, clearly agitated for Famous’s earlier misguided work ethic.

“Old man? I’m one of the oldest on the forum. Maybe you are looking for group hug instead?”

“OOOO I love group hugs!” Famous giggled excitedly.

“Well, let’s not disappoint: Wolfie,” Shades smiled, “Get ‘em.”

With a flurry of movement faster that believed possible, Wolfie tackled the two spam troopers to the floor, smothering them in a massive glomp. Shades meanwhile snuck past the troopers line of sight and prepared to head toward the door, he turned catching Wolfie’s eyes and mouthed “prepping the ship. Freaking twenty grand!!”

Shades back was just about to the door but was stopped as a cylindrical object was jammed into his spine. The metal was cold, unwavering as it dug deeper into the muscle. “Going somewhere Shades?”

Shades closed his eyes momentarily, recognizing the voice as he was lead to the booth next to the emergency exit. “As a matter of fact Base, I was just on your way to see your both tell—“

“Tell her what? That you have found creds to make up for the ten thousand dvd’s you ‘accidentally’ lost? You should have stayed with the Insiders. She has placed a price on your head so large, that every Spam Hunter in the forum will be looking for you. I’m lucky I found you first.” Base smiled.

Shades returned the smile, “Of course you know where I was, everywhere I look you are just around the corner. I’m surprised that you aren’t joining Hippie Jesus to do a duet of the Rat Pack actually. Either way, I’ll have the money for her in a week’s time. One small transport job and I’ll even up the total I owe her to fifteen.”

“If you give it to me Shades, I might forget that I found you here…”

“I don’t have it with me! I’ll have it after the transport job. Tell Kitty—“

“Kitty’s through with you. She has no time for smugglers or failed writers who drop her cargo at the first sign of trouble.”

“Even I get writer’s block some times, you think I had a choice?!” Shades demanded, slowly unclipping the strap around his hip blaster beneath the table.

“Not my problem. You keep me from Chronicles when I am just as good a writer as you! I don’t care about the money. Kitty does. She may only take your ship—“

“Over my dead body.”

Base smiled. “I believe that that is the idea. I’ve envisioned this day for awhile now. How does this sound:” Base cleared his throat and began, “The atmosphere was tense as Sebax stood against the only escape, troopers spewing forth like a burst Hot Pocket. Shades stood in the middle ground, blaster hand shaking, glasses lying spread across the floor, broken. ‘I’ve chased you across this forum Shades, you are the weakest link’”

“Yea..I bet I am.”

A burst of light exploded from beneath the table as Base fell forward, a charred hole cutting clean through his chest. The smell of burnt flesh attracted the attention of Amber as she skidded to a halt in front of Shades, DF hot on her trail. Shades looked at Base and flicked a cred card to Amber. “Looks like a normal member got in here, we’ve got to keep your Castle respectable Amber.” Shades nodded toward DF and sauntered from the Castle, sunlight glistening off his glasses as he turned toward the distant docking bay.

It's back up now.

I'm speaking from the empirical evidence that I have not witnessed.

However, if this is something that you are interested in studying further, then I say more power to you.

I've not been active cause i've been writing Spam Wars. Evidence could be provided from the following link: livestream.com/writersbock.

They do resemble each other because all the keyblades are different designs and adaptations of the Kingdom Key. Some keyblades look similar to the other because or color, decorative metalergy, concept, etc.

Personally, I believe that the ability to move objects by thinking it is a fictional medium to keep everything in check. I've heard of Chakras but in only media senses. The only known people to have been able to move objects with their mind are superheroes or jedi.

Unless I watch someone do it right next to me, I doubt this is real.

My cover is blown...

I'm 99% sure that Yoda did not say this...

That's what he said.


Btw guys...it's time I announce to you all my secret identity:

Spoiler

I am not Spartacus

Is it true that their is a spot in the human head that if you shoot it, it will blow up?

From a considerable distance, one would merely view the Cookie Castle as an uprooted mount of boulders tossed aside by tectonic movement. However this mount of boulders was merely a façade created by Amber following her crash landing in the Creativity Corner at the turn of 07. Since then, members who have passed through the castle have experienced their fair share of interesting encounters within the castle walls. However, as the foursome flew closer, a checkpoint materialized just before the castle walls, where two spam troopers were stationed, examining a seemingly endless line or members streaming through security. One could say, boredom was dominating their imaginations.

“This isn’t going to work DMaster…”TCO moaned feeling an invisible net tightening around the escapees.

“Calm yourself, and Luke:” Repliku smiled, pushing aside the hooded cloak, allowing his face to feel the sting of the harsh morning sun, ”Allow me to do the talking.”

Trooper Third class Reptar’s shielded visor blocked out a majority of the sunlight but allowed just enough that she was required to squint as the speeder slowed. Since taking her post, the ebb and flow of members had given way to speeders and later to intermittent dust storms. Never the less, Reptar remained at her post, growing slowly annoyed at the young cadet stationed to her right. Cadet Famous raised her hand, motioning for DMaster to come to a halt, attempting to impress her supervisor.

“What business brings you to the Cookie Caste?” Famous asked, mentally going over the predetermined speech she had grown to appreciate since her shift had begun.

“We are in need of a 2.1 watt converter for our outdated Protocol droid here, seems as though the most recent sandstorm destroyed his vocalizer, now all it can speak is german.”

As if on cue, T-3CO began shooting off a slew of German, waving his hands emphatically for additional realism.

Reptar shifted her focus, removing any hint of calculated aggression from the protocol droid, to the smaller squattier droid; noticing with approval as Famous did the same. “And this droid? How long have you had these droids?”

“Near of four seasons, with this economy, we don’t have the proper resources to upgrade our farm hands. If you are interested they could be on sale,” Repliku stated calmly, allowing a minor manipulation of the words to grate on Reptar.

Famous pondered his words, but shook her head; regaining focus. “I’m required to see proper identification of ownership of these droids, and also ownership of this craft before you are granted access.”

“You don’t need to see our identification,” Repliku’s tone hardened.

The words locked around Famous like a vice, her subconscious nodding in agreement. “You’re right of course, I can’t ask something like that.”

Reptar gapped in amazement, trying to figure the old man’s game.

“These droids aren’t the one’s you’re looking for.”

“These droids are not what we are looking for. Welcome to the Cookie Castle.” Famous declared, stepping aside allowing them entrance.

A hint of a smile materialized for only a moment but vanished as the speeder joined a procession before disappearing around a squat building. Reptar turned and stared down Famous. “You do realize that you let a force user with two droids matching the description of the one’s Lord Renegade has issued warrants through security right?”

“Of course, but that means mountains of paperwork. Let’s let some noob take that work. Besides,” Famous jerked a thumb towards the empty airspace surrounding the castle, “The only way off world is not through this spaceport. The only ship docked barely made it. They’ll be caught within five minutes.”

Reptar smiled, accepting the ingeniously woven trap. “And if they do get through, we can claim they controlled our brain.”

Famous nodded, glancing at her chronometer, “looks like it’s time for another Union Break.”

This is part one of my marathon of writing that will continue once I wake up. When I do, i'll be working on this more and adding to this post.

Stay tuned

Count me in.

I make people lol.

It's what I do.

You better make sure when she leaves you've still got everything...

Looks like I need to get writing again...

To those of you that require pics of hotness:

Spoiler