THE CONFESSION
Written and submitted by Alison Parker

The summons had come at a bad time. Someone had slipped some anti-coffee into Piett’s cup, and it was making him very sleepy. The anti-coffee reacted badly with his stomach lining, giving him bad gas and cramps, and, as has already been stated, made him very sleepy.

Fortunately for Piett, however, a summons from Lord Vader was enough to make anybody jumpy, so the anti-coffee was a blessing at this time. Perhaps at last he could act like a normal human being in front of the Sith, rather than an ewok on a trampoline.

Arriving at Vader’s meditation chamber, Piett was shocked to see Vader crouched on the floor, as drunk as a Correllian after a wedding reception.

"Wha’tcha here fo’, Piett?" Vader grunted. "I don’t wanna see nobody t’day. Y’ear me? Nobody!"

"I’m sorry, milord," said Piett. "I’ll just leave." He turned towards the door.

"Wait!" said Vader. "Wha’tcha doin’? I dinna tell y’ t’leave! Stay ‘ere."

"Yes, milord."

Piett waited for a time, until Vader began speaking once more.

"Did ya know ‘bout how I turn’d to the Dark Side, Piett? Did ya?"

"Yes, milord," said Piett. "The Emperor turned you. I learnt that in the Academy."

"Wrong!" said Vader. "Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! And wrong!" He began giggling hysterically, an act which short-circuited his breathing device. At the call of Piett, two engineers quickly came in, fixed the problem and left after warning Vader of the dangers of drinking too much alcohol.

After Vader recovered, he resumed his tirade. "Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! And wrong! Old snootycloak ‘lways wants t’be mix’ up in evafing. I’ll tell ya th’ trut’." Vader gestured for Piett to come closer so he could whisper in his ear.

"Gungans." Vader said.

"Pardon, milord?" Said Piett, polite as ever.

"Gungans," Vader repeated, irritated. "Y’ gotta know wha’ a gungan is!"

"Yes, sir, I do." Said Piett. "I merely don’t understand how they could make you turn to the Dark Side."

Vader shuddered. "Ha’ y’ever met a gungan?"

"No, milord."

"Filthy Jedi," said Vader. "Pu’ me in a ship wit’ one when I was nine! Jar-jar, hi’ name was. ‘E was clummy too, real clummy…

(Omitted: 5,361-word diatribe on the clumsiness of Jar-Jar. Anyone who doesn’t know about this should see the film.)

"So, I wa’ nineteen, and then – d’ya wanna drink?" Vader produced a bottle of Hutteese spirits from under his cloak. Made for Hutts, the drink was so strong that even the smallest drop would kill a human.

"No, thankyou, milord," said Piett. "I already had some coffee."

"Like hell you did," said Vader. "I put summa dat anti-watsit in ya drin’. Oh well." Vader opened his mask and swilled down half the bottle of spirits. "Were was I?"

"You were nineteen, milord," Piett supplied.

"T’anoo." Said Vader. "’Nyway, wa’ nineteen. I’d ju’ buil’ a new hyp-, hyp-…" Vader looked at Piett imploringly behind the dark mask (which he had, by this time, replaced).

"Hyperdrive, milord?" Said Piett.

"Yeh. I’d Ju’ buil’ onna those, an’ this gungan – wha’ wa’ hi’ name?"

"Jar-Jar," said Piett.

"Yah, Jar-Jar," said Vader, "he just come up’n say, ‘ooh, meesa ver’ impress’d wit’ta hypodroof,’ an’ ‘e go up’n touch’t and goes, ‘whoospidaisy," all nic’an like he means’t, and six months o’ work is blown up, jus’ like tha’!"

"My commiserations," said Piett.

"So I tries t’kill ‘im," said Vader. "And would y’ know’t, but Odly-Mum and Pammy come in at th’exact same time an’ sta’ tellin’ me off, like ‘t wa’ my faul’ or summat. So I says to them, I says, ‘He’s a mons’er," an’ they say, like, ‘No, he’s a cu’ li’l gungan,’ an’ I says to ‘em, ‘He ruin’d my hypodroof, an’I wanna kill hi’,’ an’ then Odly-Mum gets all uppity an’ lights hi’ ligh’-sabre all spiffy-like an’ he goes’n saves th’ gungan, an’ ‘e ‘alf chops me inna little bits, th’ bastard." Vader’s voice suddenly began to develop a manic edge. "But d’ya know wha’? D’ya know wha’?"

"No, milord," said Piett. "What?"

"Th’ gungans ha’ life-debts!" Said Vader. "So Odly-Mum hadda spoof off to Tatt’ine t’escape th’ gungan – they live in th’ water, y’see – and Pammy nicked ofta somewhere, bu’ I dunno where, an’ she wa’ pregna’, and dinna even tell me!"

"Pammy was your wife, milord?" asked Piett.

"No’ Pammy!" Said Vader. "Pammy – wit’ a ‘D’!"

"Ah, I see, milord, " said Piett. "Padmé. I do apologise. My hearing’s not as good as it should be."

"Y’r a goo’ man, Piett," said Vader, "A goo’ man. Did I tell ya ‘bout th’ time–"