The Quest For The Diary Of Macron Goura

Sadow Palace
Outside the Consul's Suite
Sepros, Orian System
Domain of Clan Naga Sadow


Silence was the rule of order in the early morning darkness of Sepros, not even a mouse was stirring. Rather, it was quietly in its little mouse-nest dreaming of fromage-aux-fraises with a light sauvignon blanc. Delicate, crisp, dry and floral in the finish. Yes, our little mouse has excellent taste.

"SHUT UP!" a voice shouted through the silence, stirring the little mouse's dreams. I suppose this means that our corridor isn't so silent anymore.

"YOU SHUT UP!" A second voice called out, rather loudly.

"He'll hear us, you git." A third said

"What the hell do you care, motor-mouth. He'll hear your mouth-breathing and gasping between pulls on that bottle." A fourth said

"Screw you, StarLion. Give me that bottle." The first, whom I'll not identify as the evil Master Trev, snatched the bottle from StarLion's hand, and screamed "CERVESA MAS FINA" over the top of it. "WITH A LIME!" he added.

"I thought you had good taste, Ashia said. Corona tastes like crap. Even with the lime."

"He's a fruit, Ash." Anubis said, giggling like a school girl.

Trevarus handed the bottle back to StarLion after a few minutes of chugging, and belched loudly. "Mas cervesa... muy bueno."

"What the hell are you saying?" Ashia asked. "Stop speaking in tongues, you goddamned alcoholic."

All six suddenly gasped as the light under Macron's door flashed to life. They fell down, scuttling along the floor. A small shadow crept under the seam for a moment, like a flickering of a firefly, only... like... reversed and stuff. Our mouse was looking to escape the crowd of rowdy drunks. Or maybe he was Macron's uber-secret Sith Spawned Spy!

Anyway.

The lights again went out, and the drunks stood. Trevarus again grabbed the Bottle of Sadow from StarLion.

"This isn't a toy." Trevarus said.

"Bring it, I'll drink you under the table any day."

"I'll drink you over the table, bent over."

StarLion started thrusting like the infamous Grand [Expletive Deleted] of the Brotherhood.

"Okay, enough of that. Why the hell are we here anyway?" Malik asked, burping loudly after taking a long pull on his own Bottle of Sadow.

"We are on a quest... for the uber secret diary of Macron Sadow!" Trevarus said loudly.

"And you're wearing bunny slippers." Shuang Long said, giggling

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Trevarus shouted.

"Wrong universe Trev." StarLion said, laughing.

"And your stripey-footeed PJ's with the flap for your ass are just as cute."

"Hey, don't knock the PJ's."

They crouched outside the door, listening intently through the keyhole. Macron Sadow was apparently in conference with Darth Vexatus, otherwise known as Goat. It was difficult to hear, but apparently Goat was having some troubles with the HuttWife.

"Do you have an alchemical solution for her... dryness?"

"Give me some time, my old friend. We'll have her ready to slip 'n slide again in no time."

Shaung Long vomited profusely, all over the "Welcome!" mat splayed on the floor outside Mac's office.

"We must get that diary." Trev said. "Shaung, you're cut off dammit... puking is alcohol abuse."

((So against my standards... but meh, it's just for fun and nonsense.))

StarLion frowns at the technicolor display Shuang puts out, quite litterally, all over the welcome mat.

"Trev you've gotta train your apprentices better." the Cathar snorted. "Though I *almost* don't blame the kid. I thought Goat's huttwife ran off with 'Rai."

Grabbing a nearby potted rubber plant, Anubis proceded to try and hide behind it with his training saber drawn. The rubber plant was not amused, but the rest of the group was when one of the rubber plant's leaves shorted out the weapon.

"So, aside from shouting drunken magic spells from other universes, who's got a plan?" Ashia asked.

"We assault from the front, split into tactical teams and make entry via the air ducts..." someone began, to be interupted by Trev pushing the rather intricate doorbell to Macron's quarters.

The tune, somewhat off-key, was "I Will Always Love You".

"Okay, now all we need is some uniforms, and we'll pretend to be... a delivery service." StarLion chimed in.

"Delivering what?"

"Rubber ducks."

"It'll never work. Say it's goat cheese instead."

"You're sick."

"Yeah, and that's why you love me."

Nero swayed drunkenly, the culmination of Trev's latest 'training exercise' doing a number on his senses. Walking along, a pint glass held limply in his hand, spilling fine Corellian beer everywhere, he came around the corner where our intrepid raiders were trying to get into Mac's office and learn his deepest, darkest secrets that for some reason always had to be written in a 'Dear Dairy'.

Peeking around the corner, he saw Shuang drunkenly trying to smooth his clothes over, the culmination of his training on the floor. The group, his Master included, was huddled conspiratorially next to Mac's office. Somehow everyone looked blurry, and how come everyone had created a copy of themselves? It'd only crowd Mac's office door.

Burping, and grateful he'd decided to sneak some of Trev's beer with him, he giggled. Delivery people! Of all things! His giggle turned into a laugh as he leaned against the wall, waiting to see Macron's reaction when he opened the door to find a bunch of Sadowites trying to be delivery people without delivery uniforms!

The door slid open, revealing Macron's enormous, armored body silhouetted against the light from his office. His eyes ablaze with fire, he gazed upon the sorry lot before him. Shaking his head from side to side in dismay at seeing Trevarus, obviously the master-mind of this drunken escapade he took a deep breath.

"I AM MACRON!" He screamed, "What in the name of the Sith do you want?!" He bellowed, almost choking on the stench of alcohol.

Trev pulled an innocent face, and looked down. Finally realizing his mistake of not bringing a Rubber-ducks 'R Us uniform from the storage area. He liked playing role-playing games, but that is a tale for a different time, as well as a mature audience.

Nero watched, an amused smile complementing his drunken, half-closed eyes. He looked down, more a movement of an increasingly relaxing neck than anything and saw it.

A mouse, dreaming of delights it could never cook with it's little paws and inability to read a cookbook. The one who was not stirring right by his feet. It looked up at him, and cocked it's head to the side as if to say "Do you have any sirloin steak in wine-sauce I can eat?"

"Uhh... Macron!" Ashia exclaimed, raising her hands high suddenly, "We were... we were..."

"You were what?" Macron asked, raising an infernal eyebrow whose hairs were way too long, curling at the end.

Nero decided to strike, seeing as these poor fools obviously needed some help. He gazed down at the mouse again, curled up sweetly on his boot, staring up at him with eyes too cute to ignore, little button-nose twitching at the thought of the delights to come.

A mighty kick sent the little rodent flying through the air, past Macron's office in a flash. It's scream of "Squeeeeeeeeeeeee..." (Translation: Damn youuuuuuuuuuuu!) as it flew by attracted their attention, their eyes following the little white projectile.

"We were chasing the mouse!" StarLion said, sneaking a quick swig from the Bottle of Sadow. "Just chasing the mouse... Don't mind us. We thought it had crept into your office to look at your dia-"

A slap across the face kept StarLion from spilling their ultra-secret plan. "Your recipes for Ewok, we meant." StarLion finished hastily.

Macron narrowed his eyes suspiciously, holding their gaze for a moment. He could always use the mouse as a side dish for his Ewok-a-la-creme... "Very well, catch the mouse and bring it in for... Questioning... Yes, questioning."

The group nodded as one as the door to Mac's office closed again, and each sighed a sigh of relief.

Nero sauntered through towards them, leaving a trail of beer behind him. "Master," He said, "I can't find those (hic) beer goggles you were talking about," He paused, swaying from side-to-side as he looked over Ashia's body, "Wait, I think I just found them."

Ashia went red, the rest of the group went white. The sound of repeated slapping and Nero's child-like whimpering traveled across the empty hall very easily and quickly.

Ashia cracked her knuckles and kicked the mangled heap that was Nero one more time. Nero groaned, looking at the pint glass that Ashia had broken over his head. "My beer!" He said incredulously.

"It's mine actually, and you owe me a pint glass, Apprentice." Trev said sourly.

"Now then," Ashia said, content in her vengeance, "Mice aside, what do we do now?"

Ashia looked from one to the other of the drunken sods and suppressed a giggle. Trev belched a reply.

"I still like the rubber duck delivery idea." Shuang swayed slightly.

"We don't have uniforms"

"Well what about the mouse? We're suppose to get him a mouse now for his 'speramints." Starlion grapped at the bottle from Trev again and a slight struggle ensued. The result was both ending up on their bums with the bottle in the Cathar's paws.

"Don't get fur in it!" Trev protested loudly.

Movement stirred inside Macron's office again and they quickly moved down the corridor, rounding the corner.

Nero stumbled after them rubbing his head.

"Hey! We could get some mice from the lab!" Ashia's eyes glazed over. "I've got the key!" She pulled a long slender key that was on a chain around her neck out of her bosom.

Nero leered at her for a moment then quickly looked away for fear of getting another beating.

Ashia reached up and started scratching Starlion under the chin. The large Cathar started purring and relaxed. A moment later, she snatched the bottle from his paws when he wasn't paying attention.

"Hey!" He protested, the loss of his booze and the loss of the good scratch as she took a long swig of the alcohol.