Back to Piett Fiction

 

Back to Main

PIETT & COFFEE
Written submitted by Sean Walsh
submitted by Ryan Mannion

Suppose Admiral Piett, as a result of his promotion, drank a lot of coffee to relieve the pressure...

 

Vader: ...You are in command now, Admiral Piett.

Piett: Thank you, Lord Vader.

[As the transmission ends, Piett alerts some nearby officers to drag Admiral Ozzel's dead body away.]

Piett: Yeah, dump his ass out the garbage chute or something.

First Controller: Admiral?

Piett: Yes, controller.

First Controller: You know, having been around Admiral Ozzel for quite some time, perhaps I could advise you on something.

Piett: Uh...sure.

First Controller: Well, as you can probably guess, being the admiral is a pretty rough job. Having to answer to Lord Vader and everything.

Piett: Yes...

First Controller: Well, you'll need something to...um...calm the pressures.

Piett: Yes...hey, you're not suggesting...?

First Controlller: Oh no, sir. Not at all. You see...(leans closer to Piett) there's this new thing I've discovered. Not widely popular, but it's fairly easy to get.

Piett: What is it?

First Controller: Coffee.

Piett: Coffee? What's that?

First Controller: Well, sir, it's a beverage that keeps you on your toes at all times. You'll never lose track of things, and it really hits the spot when you're being overworked.

Piett: I see. Where can I find this...coffee?

First Controller: There's a coffee urn on one of the officer's levels, sir. Perhaps I could have it brought up here...?

Piett: Hell yes. This'll be just the thing I, and everyone else on this ship, could use. Go get it.

First Controller: Yessir.

--

Vader: Yes, Admiral?

Piett: Our ships have sighted the Millennium Falcon, Lord. But...

Vader: Yes?

Piett: Sorry, sir. Just the caffeine kicking in, m'lord...ah, there we go.

Vader: Okay...

Piett: Anyway, sir, our ships have sighted the Millennium Falcon, Lord, but it's entered an asteroid field and we can't risk...

Vader: Asteroids do not...

Piett: Going in to get them, because it could be costly and we'd might not survive and...

Vader: Uh...Admiral?

Piett: ...we'd lose a large chunk of the fleet and that would be really, really bad, as if things weren't bad enough for us now...

Vader: Cut it out.

Piett: ...I mean with the economy all messed up and the Emperor in old age...still...I don't really get that part but I'm sure there's a good explanation, 'cause...

Vader: Please be quiet.

Piett: ...the Emperor's one heckuva smart guy. After all, he's the Emperor, and you'd expect him to be as all-knowing as humanly possible. Unless he's not human, which means he's smarter than most humans...

Vader: Shut up!

Piett: ...but then that'd make him a hypocrite, 'cause he hates aliens and doesn't allow them into the Empire. Well, everyone except that Thrawn guy, but I'm not supposed to know about that...wink, wink, nudge, nudge...

Vader: SHUT UP!!!

Piett: Oh. Sorry, Lord.

Vader: Whatever. Now, I want that damn ship, and not excuses.

Piett: What...oh yeah, the Falcon. Sure, no prob, boss.

Vader: Right...now get out.

Piett: As you wish, m'lord.

--

Piett: Bounty hunters. We don't need that scum.

Second Controller: Yes, sir.

Piett: "Yes, sir"? What the hell does that mean?

Second Controller: Um...sir?

Piett: Does that mean, "Yes sir, I agree with you," or "Yes sir, we *do* need that scum."? Well?

Second Controller: Sir...I...I...

[The Second Controller breaks out into tears, gets up, and runs away crying. Piett walks away, below where the scu...bounty hunters are gathered. Bossk wiggles his toes and garbles seomthing threatening to the admiral.]

Piett: Don't you wiggle your damn toes at me, scaly face!

[Bossk is startled by this, and like the Second Controller, breaks out into tears and runs away crying.]

Third Controller: Sir, we have a...

Piett: Gah! Don't scare me like that!

Third Controller: Sorry, sir. We have a priority signal from the Star Destroyer.

Piett: Right...right...

Third Controller: Are you alright sir?

Piett: Huh...what do you mean?

Third Controller: You're twitching.

Piett: I am. (pauses) Huh, I am. How about that. Yes, I'm fine. That's just something us...admirals...do...

Third Controller: Right. If you don't mind sir, I'm going to get far away from you now.

Piett: Sure. Enjoy yourself.

--

Vader: Apology accepted, Captain Needa.

[Two officers pick up the captain's dead carcass and drag it away, as Lord Vader walks over to Admiral Piett and several other officers. Admiral Piett, with cup of coffee in hand, sees Vader and jumps back to attention. His cup flies all over one of the controllers.]

Fourth Controller: Aw fuck!!

Piett: Lord Vader, our ships have completed their scan of the area and have found nothing. If the Millennium Falcon went into lightspeed, it'll be on the other side of the galaxy by now.

Vader: No it wouldn't.

Piett: What?

Vader: How could the ship, especially one that size, get all the hell way across to the other side of the freakin' galaxy?

Piett: It's not that far away.

Vader: What do you mean it's not that far away?!

Piett: It's right over there, isn't it?

[Vader turns to look at what Piett points to: a mouse droid. It, like always, begins to scurry away.]

Piett: Holy crap! It's running away! Quick, get it!!

[Piett starts running toward the escaping mouse droid, yelling and screaming as it races away down a corridor. Vader's eyes (if anyone could see them) are wide open, and he is bewildered beyond comprehension. He turns to General Veers, who just happens to be standing there, even though his scenes were shot already.]

Vader: Uh...is he on something?

Veers: I think he's been drinking a little...no, make it way too much of that...coffee stuff.

Vader: I see. Check that stuff out. Make sure no one's dumping spice in it.

Veers: Right. And then can I leave?

Vader: Oh yeah, that's right. Sure, no problem. Just pick up your check on your way out...

--

Piett: They'll be in range of our tractor beam in moments, my lord.

Vader: Did your men deactivate the hyperdrive on the Millennium Falcon?

Piett: You betcha.

Vader: Uh, right. Prepare the boarding party and set your weapons for stun.

Piett: Does that mean I'm going too?

Vader: Huh?

Piett: You said 'your weapons,' so I'm assuming I'll be setting my weapon for stun too.

Vader: Oh no, you're staying *right* here.

Piett: Aw shoot. Oh well, guess I miss out again.

Vader: Lieutenant?

Lieutenant: Yes, my lord?

Vader: Make sure he doesn't...do anything stupid.

[As Vader says this, Piett walks by several officers, and looks right at them, inspecting every feature on their uniforms.]

Lieutenant: Too late for that, sir.

Vader: Yes, well...just make sure he doesn't go moshing in the control pit again. We don't need another one of those fiascos.

Lieutenant: Yes my lord.

[The lieutenant walks, then runs over to the admiral, who is preparing to jump into the pit.]

Vader: Oy...I should've kept Ozzel alive, at least a little while longer.

[Vader looks out the window (and communicates with Luke, but no one around him knows that; they just think he's stargazing again) while the admiral is restrained in another viewport.]

Piett: We should ready the tractor beam. Yeah, we really should. We really, really, really, really should.

[The Lieutenant looks at one of the controllers and rolls his eyes.]

Piett: Can we now? Can we, can we?

Fifth Controller: Sure, sir, what the hey.

Piett: Woohoo! You, ready the tractor beam!

Sixth Controller: Yessir.

[Piett walks over to the viewport window and looks out at the Millennium Falcon. Moments later, the Rebel ship rushes away into hyperspace. Piett, twitching, looks out at disbelief.]

Piett: Where'd it go?

Lieutenant: It's...it's gone, sir.

Piett: Gone? What'd'ya mean, gone? It can't be gone. No, that's not good, not good at all. In fact, that's bad. Very, very, very, very fucking bad. I mean didn't we deactivate it? How'd they get it to work? They couldn't have. Not in a million, trillion, zillion years.

Lieutenant: Sir...Lord Vader. He's...

Piett: Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit...

Lieutenant: Uh sir, he's gone.

Piett: Him too? Into hyperspace?

Lieutenant: No sir. Just the Falcon.

Piett: Right, just the ship, not the man. Right... Lieutenant?

Lieutenant: Sir?

Piett: Find the controller who introduced me to coffee and have him shot.

Lieutenant: Yes sir! And the coffee urn, should we...get rid of it.

Piett: Oh shit no. I'm going to need that now more than ever. In fact...you know what...go find a bigger one. Yeah, get a big friggin' coffee urn, and...you know what...(starts walking away) have it strapped to my back, and run an IV into my arm. I'm gonna need that stuff non-stop, baby!

Lieutenant (to nearby controller): Ugh. I wanna transfer off this ship, preferable to Kessel. They don't have coffee on Kessel, do they?

Sixth Controller: They got spice.

Lieutenant: The sex channel?!

Sixth Controller: No...the drug.

Lieutenant: Oh. Good enough then.

--

One year later...he's still addicted (guess he got the portable coffee pack...)

[Admiral Piett and two fleet commanders watch the battle at the huge window of the Super Star Destroyer's bridge.]

Deck Commander: We're in attack position now,sir.

Piett:We'renotattackingdammit! We'renot!

Fleet Commander: Wha...we're not going to attack?

Piett:Nowe'renot! Whatthehell'swrongwithyou? TheEmperorgavemetheordershimself. Hetoldmetohold'causehe'sgotsomethingspecialplanned. WeonlyneedtokeeptheRebelsfromescaping.

Fleet Commander: Sir, I...I can't understand you. You're talking too fast.

Piett: Whatareyoutalkingabout, I'mtalkingtoofast?! ThisishowIalwaystalk, youfool!

Deck Commander: Sir, have you been...at the coffee urn again?

Piett: Damnidiot,whatdoyouthink? I'vebeenanadmiralforoverayearnow. IneverknowwhenVader'llchokemyassout! SoIfindthatcoffee...lotsofcoffee... helpseasethepainofbeinghisfriggin'admiraldayafterday!

Fleet Commander: Right...so we hold here?

Piett: Yesweholdhere, whatthehellhaveIbeentellingyou? Weholdhereandthat'sthat!

Fleet Commander: Yes, sir.

[The fleet commander turns to the deck commander.]

Fleet Commander: Call maintenance. Get that damn urn taken out. Piett'll be dead of a heart attack any time now.

Deck Commander: Either that, or he, and all of us, will be dead because of the battle.

Fleet Commander: Ha! Fat chance! If his heart doesn't give out, may an A-Wing crash through that very window...

--

[A large explosion rocks the Executor.]

Controller: Sir, we've lost our main bridge deflector shield!

Piett: Dammitalltohell (pant pant pant) Intensifytheforwardbatteries (pant pant pant) Idon'twantanythingtoget (pant pant pant) through...

Fleet Commander: Admiral, are you alright?

Piett: OfcourseI'm (pant pant) alrightCommander (pant pant) I'm justvery (pant) very (pant) exhaustedand...Hey! Intensifyforwardfirepower! Whycan'tyoufreakin'idiots (pant pant) listentowhat (pant) Isay?

All: Because you're talking too fast!!

Piett: Oh...ohohohohIsee. MaybeifItrytoslowdown...I...can...

Fleet Commander: Too late!

Deck Commander (from afar): You dickhead! You had to curse us, didn't you?!

Piett: What...what'sgoingonover...here? (sees the A-Wing) Oh. Thank God...

[Admiral Piett takes a last swig of coffee and throws the cup away...]

Back to Piett Fiction
Back to Main