Star Wars: Revenge of the Sit


Join the Dark Side; We Have Cookies


Summary: Not a typo, just a silly pun! The Millennium Falcon must rescue an egotistical incarnation of a really weird spell from a star destroyer! Partial Inu-Yasha crossover.

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars, I wouldn't be writing this stupid restatement of the obvious. I don't own Inu-Yasha either. (sigh.) I do own copies of the movies…of both series.

Warnings: Contains OOCness, parody, cookies, and Sits.

Dedicated to Kokoro Sabishii, who I KNOW will read this…and had better appreciate my stab at Star Wars humor…happy birthday, Kokoro-chan…




Yeah, you.

Are you listening?

You better be.

And if not, then...I'll talk to myself! Yeah, that's it. I can do that, you know. Do it all the time.

Well, if you're not listening, then you're missing out on the story.

So...this story is set long long ago, in a galaxy far far know the drill. But it started about five minutes ago.

Ha ha. Time paradox. Have fun. I hate 'em, don't you?

In case you were wondering, who I am, I am the Immortal Impossible Annoying et cetera Sit-Spell! Fear my wrath!

Ok, now that that's out of the way, I can begin my story...Hey! Cut it out! I'm telling this!

(Sounds of a scuffle echo, punctuated with shouts in a girl's voice of 'Oh no you don't! You've had your spotlight! Now hush! I'll give you some lines later! Hey! Whew...')

Author's Note: Due to a hopefully, but not probably, fatal overdose of ego, the Sit-Spell will most definitely not be narrating this. As of now, this is set in third person silly omniscient.

"Come on, it's a movie! It'll be fun!"

"Movie?" The half dog-demon said the word as if it would bite him. For all he knew, it would.

"Yes, and it's one of my favorites. Please?" Kagome begged him, sweeping her black hair out of her eyes.

Inuyasha shuffled his feet and toyed with the beaded collar locked around his neck. "Fine," he muttered without much argument, having this bad feeling that he'd get 'sat' face-first into the ground about a million times if he refused. There was just something in Kagome's eyes that screamed 'or else.'

Kagome smiled brilliantly and caught his wrist to drag him inside. "Now please just try to enjoy it this time. I promise it doesn't jump out and attack you, no matter what." She declined to mention three-D IMax films, not wanting to confuse him. "I'll explain everything if you get lost."

"Feh," Inuyasha snorted, twitching one dog-ear, the most obvious sign of his demonic heritage, besides about a dozen others, not the least being a sullen temper. "What are we watching again?"

"It's a dubbed American film," she chattered, not pausing for him to ask "What the hell's America?" The Japanese hadn't known about America five hundred years ago in the Feudal Era, where Inuyasha had been born. "It's called Star Wars, and it's science fiction, and it's really corny—sorry, unbelievably unbelievable—but it's a classic."

"Feh," Inuyasha replied, this being his catchall response, as they sat down on the couch in Kagome's living room. "Whatever."

Kagome didn't believe a word of it. If he'd had any obvious objections, the temperamental half-demon would have stormed out long ago; that is, when she'd first brought up the idea. She bounced up immediately and busied herself with first finding, then starting the video, wincing apologetically as the whine of static slicked her friend's sensitive ears back hard.

"Right!" she said, switching off the lights and grabbing the remote before re-joining Inuyasha on the couch.

She gave him a quick crash-course on the use and purpose of the remote as the video went through its presentation on how they'd touched up the movie for the Special Edition, demonstrating and letting him play with it, while making sure he didn't break it.

"So what is this about?" he asked finally. "Are there demons in it?"

"No," she said patiently. "It's about people on...oh, what the heck...far away."

Ha ha! Le'letha has given me screen time! And is timing me...with...her watch! So I better talk fast, which I do really well, and... stay on topic, which I don't do too well. But I'm still perfect! She wants me to explain what I do. And, just to spite her, I refuse! Mwahaha!

Ouch. So while Inuyasha and Kagome watch Star Wars, and I wish her luck of it, I'll tell my story—that is, Le'letha will tell my story. You see, them watching Star Wars reminded me of this. I'd almost forgotten…not.

"What the heck?"

Han Solo leaned back in his reclining command chair to slap the annoyingly beeping computer. "Shut up!"

It refused pointblank and continued to make annoying sounds. The captain of the Millennium Falcon growled and actually bothered to check on it.

"The proximity sensor? There's nothing out here!"

The sensor said otherwise.

"Stupid thing! I'll prove you wrong," he snapped, bent on winning the argument. He swiveled around in the same chair, which was very comfortable, actually, and stared out the front window.

"That's weird..." he muttered. "I could swear...Oi! Luke! Get up here!"

'The kid,' as Han took spiteful pleasure from calling him, popped out of the corridor as if shot from a cannon. "Yeah?"

"Take a look out there and tell me what you see."

"Since when do you give me orders?"

"Since always, kid," he snapped back. "Just look why don't-" He was cut off.

"Are those words?" Luke asked, his voice cracking on the last word.

"Well, at least we're both hallucinating."

"I can't read them, can you?"

"They seem to be fading away…"

In fact, they were. By the time Han had finished speaking, the golden letters had faded away into the darkness of space.

"Well, that was unusual," he commented unnecessarily.

"Yeah," 'the kid' said quietly.

Seconds later, a different alarm went off, whooping like a four-alarm fire. "Not again!" the captain of the Falcon yelled over it.

"It seems to be some sort of distress signal," Luke said, planting himself in the other chair.

"A distress signal?" he said skeptically. "Out here?"

"Seems to be."

"Get it on screen!"

"I'm trying, but-"

The door at the stern of the bridge opened. "What's going on up here?" Leia demanded, bursting in with her hair in curlers.

"Hey, princess, only three people in the cockpit at a time," Han drawled, more concerned with annoying her than figuring out the Phantom Distress Signal.

"Can't you count? There are only three people…Oh, very funny," she all but snarled, finally catching on. She shoved past him, evicted Luke from his chair, and pressed the button marked 'Receive Incoming Message.' The screen crackled into life.

"Hello? You out there?"

"Who the heck are you?" Han demanded. Nobody recognized the voice, but at least it didn't sound very Imperial. However, the person seemed to be talking with his mouth full, so it wasn't very distinguishable either. As the visual static cleared up, allowing them to view the caller, it didn't look very Imperial either.

The person on the other end of the line was either human, or so close it didn't really make any difference. He was sitting on a white bench with his back to a white wall, wearing bright purple and green clothes and waving at the screen with his left hand. There was a beaded sort of necklace around his neck. With his right hand he was eating a chocolate chip (or maybe raisin) cookie.


"Yes, you; the one with the cookie."

"Well, I'm a prisoner. Who are you? And do you suppose you could come rescue me? I'm running out of cookies here."

"I meant your name!"

"Hey, where'd you get the cookie? Is it chocolate chip? I want one!" interrupted Luke from over his shoulder.

"Oh, the guards gave me a plate of them," the man in the Mardi Gras robes said cheerfully. "Some of them are sugar, but mostly chocolate chip. You can have one if you come get it."

"Deal!" Luke said enthusiastically.

"Hold it, kid! You with the cookie," whatever his name was, he would forever be 'you with the cookie' to Han Solo. "What's your name, why are you a prisoner, where are you, and most importantly, why the heck should we come rescue you?"

"Whoa, one question at a time," said You-With-The-Cookie. "My name…hmm." He thought about it as he finished his cookie. Evidently this was a difficult question. "I am the Immortal, Impossible, Annoying, et cetera Sit-Spell."

"Right… How about IIASS?"

"Most definitely not. I suppose you can just call me Etcetera. I'm a prisoner because I annoy the Imperial people, I'll send you my coordinates, and you should come rescue me because one, I asked you to, and two, I'll give you a cookie if I have any left when you get here."

"We should hurry," Luke observed.

"Good idea," Etcetera encouraged, and recited off a string of coordinates for Luke to punch into one of the computers.

"Hey, wait a second," Han complained. "I'm captain here, and I haven't said we're going anywhere! How do you know where you are anyway, if you're a prisoner?"

"Oh, they told me where we're going when they tossed me in here," the man in purple and green replied airily.

"You're on a ship," Han said, not expecting a reply.


"Let me guess. A star destroyer."


"An Imperial star destroyer."


"That 'yep' is getting on my nerves."

"Yep," Etcetera continued with a straight face.

"Rescue mission for dubious profit: this is sounding distressingly familiar," Han muttered with a glare at Luke.

"It isn't my idea this time!" he protested.

"You with the cookie, answer me this: How is this little ship supposed to take on one of those flying pie slices?"

"Oh, did I forget?"

"Evidently," Leia muttered.

"Someone say 'sit.'"

"Sit," they all said.




All three crashed flat on the ground. They were forced to remain there for a few seconds before dragging themselves up.

"What did that?" Luke yelped, wide-eyed.

"Me! I'm the s-i-t-spell, remember? Only, you might want to give it some direction next time. Point at the person or something. Normally you'd use this," Etcetera jangled his weird necklace, "and on only one person at a time, but I think I can make an exception."

"This is going to be one of the weirdest missions of my life," Han groused. "And that's saying something."

Etcetera beamed. "I'll save you cookies," he smiled, and the transmission cut out.

There was brief silence. About five seconds brief, actually.

Han leveled a finger at Luke. "Sit," he said, and laughed hysterically as Luke was slammed to the deck.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Leia, because no one else had said it yet today and because one of her curlers had gotten tangled in the chaos.

One of the great questions of life:

Where is that darn music coming from?

It was very dark. He liked it that way. Unless he moved, so that the starlight reflected off his black armor, he was invisible. And he could ponder the essential question much easier.

And what am I going to do to it when I find out?

That question was easy. A dozen possibilities presented themselves to Darth Vader in a nice straight line.

Bum, bum, bum, bum-bu-bum, bum-ba-bum…

No matter where he went, it followed him. It was enough to drive him sane.


Another hopeless incompetent.

A uniformed soldier stopped short on the threshold and saluted sharply.

"Do we have any orders yet, sir?"

"Drop dead," the Sith Lord snarled, absently wondering what the soldier would do.

"Yes sir!" the man in the grey uniform said sharply, and vanished, closing the door very gently in order to not further provoke his lord's wrath. After a brief moment of deliberation, he scurried off to the most distant corner of the wedge-shaped star destroyer to hide for the rest of the voyage. Of course, Darth Vader could have been joking, but he doubted it.

Back in the darkened command center, Vader flopped imperiously into a chair, defying several laws of physics that forbade said verb and adverb fitting together, and scanned the room very carefully for any source of the music. Unless he was very wrong, and even if he was, no one was watching, it was coming from under the computer console. Watching the little black data-display-bot lurking beneath the console, he rose and stalked over in its direction.

It didn't move, thinking, in its little bot mind, that it was completely and totally safe. Even more foolishly, it continued to crank out its little march, getting louder and louder at random times.

Without giving it any time to react, he kicked it solidly with an armored boot. It raised the volume to an unprecedented high and one of the clarinets on the recording squeaked painfully before careening into the bulkhead with a most satisfactory crash. The music ground to a halt, but not without a final gasp of music.

He stepped on the wreckage hard, and it crumbled into its component parts. With a snort of disdain, he swept from the room and out of this story in (finally!) silence.

Now, if there was only something he could do about the breathing noise…

A few minutes later, another (different) brown-uniformed officer crept from an adjoining passageway and quietly slipped inside. Glancing around, he was at first very confused before remembering that the lights were off, explaining why he couldn't see a thing.

He switched them on with one hand, and spotted the wreckage of the little CD-player-bot glistening black in the sudden flare of light. With a sigh, he picked it up and attempted to retrieve the disk inside, to no avail. That had been smashed too.

With yet another sigh, he pitched it all into the nearest garbage receptacle. A few seconds elapsed in silence as gravity did its little thing and the scrap metal hurtled towards the bottom.

The silence was abruptly broken by an 'ow!' echoing up from the trash bin.

"Is someone down there?" the officer called curiously.

"No," a woman's voice replied.

"Oh, sorry," the man in brown replied cheerfully. Brightness was not an encouraged trait among the Imperial Military.

A bulb dawned slowly. "Hey, wait a minute," he added after a few seconds. "You must be intruders!"

Han Solo's head popped up at his level from the trash receptacle. "No, really?" he asked, and then snapped "Sit!" just for good measure.

The soldier flopped to the ground and lay prostrate before him.

"I could learn to like this," he mused as his two companions emerged from the rubbish pit.

"How come all your secret passages and escape routes are always through the trash?" Leia inquired irritably.

"It's a gift," he answered sunnily. "Sit! Stay?"

SLAM! This time the soldier was knocked unconscious.

"So now what do we do?" Luke asked, trying to clean muck from his lightsaber hilt with his sleeve. As his sleeve was also filthy, it didn't do much good.

"We could run around in circles until we find the guy with the cookie by chance."

"We could get the droids to hack into the system and turn off all the power."

"We left them on Hoth."

"Oh yeah."

Leia rolled her eyes as Han and Luke talked back and forth in this manner.

"We could pull that trick with Chewbacca like we did last time."

"We left him on Hoth too."


"We could find a commsystem and call him to ask where he is."

"I still think we should run around in circles."

"That was my idea."

"Have either of you considered thinking about it?" she asked.

'HUH?' went their faces.

Leia banged her head against the wall very softly, then a little harder because it made such a nice sound. "You're both jerks, you know that?"

"Hey, there was no call for that!" Han yelped, offended.

"Yes there was. So, let's think about it." She thought for a second. "On second thought-"

"What was the first?" Luke asked curiously.

"-I'll think about it, and you two…just—stand there and be quiet."

They stood there obediently as Leia stalked over to the computer console and pulled up several screens. "Nope, nope, definitely not, lousy security codes they've got here, by the way, ha!" she'd found a little map that said INTERIOR MAP. A blinking yellow dot labeled YOU ARE HERE told them where they were.

"Show me the location of all prisoners," she typed in.

It blinked a few times and then obediently pulled up a new map. Another blinking dot, this one red, appeared.

"Well that's easy," Han said from over her shoulder.

"When did I give you permission to move?" she demanded. "Well, it doesn't matter now. There's only one prisoner—oh, for—you can move now too, Luke."

Luke abandoned his bad mime imitation and trotted over to stand beside the other two. "That's five decks below us," he observed after a quick peek at the screen.

"Exactly. So, how do we get down there?"

"I have an idea," Han suggested.

"Uh oh," Luke and Leia chorused.

"I've got a hole in my pocket," he declared proudly.

A second 'HUH?' displayed itself across two faces. Han Solo snickered at them and pulled a flat black disc, about two meters in diameter, out of his pocket.

"Observe," he said proudly, and laid it on the floor.

It sat there.

"I assume something is supposed to happen," Leia said dryly, and looked around for a glass of water just in case one happened to be around.

"Look!" Luke shouted suddenly. He was kneeling on the ground with his hand in the black disc. "It really is a hole!"

"Oh, good, a deep dark hole," Leia said, having not found her glass of water. "Is it just me, or are there a lot of those around?"

"It's not just you, sister," Han said observantly but foolishly.

"Sit!" she shouted, leveling a finger at him.

"Hey, that reminds me," she added, as Han struggled back to his feet. "What are we going to do with him?" she pointed at the still-unconscious soldier. "He really does not match the wallpaper."

"There isn't any wallpaper," Luke said puzzledly, staring around.

"Then he can't match it, can he?"


"Oh, just leave him here," Han snapped, standing back up. "Well, let's go." He gripped the edge of the hole and lowered himself in. half a second later, he leapt back out. "We need a rope."

Rope, while useful, is not in great supply in one of the command centers of an Imperial Star Destroyer. It is kept in a special box marked "Toilet Cleaner" in a room on the bottom deck of the ship with a signpost outside, inscribed with "Airlock: No Entry Without Key." It is a jealously and securely guarded treasure of the Empire.

"I can float us down," Luke said confidently. "I shall use the Force!"

"Right," Han drawled.

"Really! Come on, let's hurry up. There won't be any cookies left if we don't!"

"Luke, if this kills us, I will never speak to you again," he warned 'the kid.'

"Big incentive," Leia sniped, still not having found a glass of water and therefore annoyed.

"Ok, on the count of three, everyone jumps," Luke said.

"One," Leia started them off.

"Five? Just kidding—two…"

"Three!" Luke shouted, and they all jumped into a deep dark hole for the first time that day.

Five seconds later, they came to an abrupt stop in midair. A rectangle of light blazed brightly in direct contrast to the dark chasm over which they were currently floating.

"Hey, you got here!" a cheery voice greeted them. "You want a cookie?"

"Um, I think we're stuck," Luke ventured softly when they didn't move. He'd been trying to move them out of the shaft and into the blindingly white cell, a white that was broken only by the eye-assaulting Mardi Gras outfit of Etcetera and a plate of cookies on the floor.

"Stuck?" Leia demanded. "What do you mean, stuck?"

"Well, we haven't moved. I've got a bad feeling about this…"

"Really? I've got a stupid feeling about this! Hey, you with the cookie, can you give us a bit of a hand here?" Han asked irritably as the younger two-thirds of the trio kept bickering.

"Which bit did you have in mind?" the young man said curiously. "They don't all come off."

"Just pull us out of here!"

"Very well. Here." He reached out and pulled them one by one into the cell, where their feet hit the floor with thuds as gravity reasserted itself.

"Brilliant. Just brilliant," Leia said after a quick glance around.

"Now what's your problem, your highness?"

"My problem, as you put it, is that now we're all stuck in an Imperial cell."

"With cookies."

"You shut up. So now what's our plan?"

"I'll cut a way out of here," Luke said confidently through the last bit of chocolate chip cookie. He stood up and licked his fingers free of chocolate, then pulled his lightsaber hilt from his belt. "Lightsaber!" he yelled heroically, looking and sounding very stupid.

The blade crackled to life, turning the walls a pale shade of blue that continued to clash with Etcetera's outfit. It hummed and buzzed as he slashed at the metal wall.

"Oops, I, uh, didn't mean to do that," he apologized as he hit the power wire for the light by mistake, plunging them all into darkness.

"Oh well, you got us out, didn't you?" Leia comforted him brusquely. "Let's go. And I'm not going back into the garbage chute. That's final."

"Hear, hear," Etcetera agreed as he followed them out, grabbing a few cookies in each hand on the way. "You know, I wasn't going to mention anything, but you three stink."




The single word was repeated over and over as Etcetera and the three from the Millennium Falcon made their way through the corridors of the Star Destroyer. All around them, Imperial troops thudded to the metal deck at their shouts and lay prostrate before, behind, and all around them.

"I could get used to this," Han kept muttering between one-sided skirmishes. "Let's see…" He then proceeded to begin a list under his breath of people who would be resoundingly sat the next time he saw them.

"Finally!" Leia said as they emerged into the hanger bay where their patched-up starship was quite sedately parked. "I never thought I'd be so glad to see this hunk of junk."

"Hey, don't you call my ship a hunk of junk!"

"Why not, you call her that all the time!"

"Yeah, so?"

"Oh, you're impossible. Sit!"

Another soldier stretched his length on the deck.

"What've you got there, Luke?" Han changed the subject quickly, counting himself lucky that it hadn't been him on the receiving end of that.

"They gave us a ticket!" 'the kid' said indignantly, waving a yellow slip of paper around like a battle flag.

"All that for a handful of cookies," Leia said with a sigh once they were back in space and a long way away from the star destroyer…which did look like a flying metal slice of pie from a distance.

"If you ask me—"

"No one did," the others told Etcetera more or less in unison.

He was not to be deferred. "—I think the three of you should be Heroes of the Rebellion or something like that. You have almost single-handedly taken on a star destroyer and done significant damage!"

"But we didn't do anything to it," Luke protested.

Etcetera grinned. "Ah, but I did. They annoy me. I took the liberty of cutting a few wires as we went on that merry stroll through the corridors. Some very important wires; namely, the guidance and control relays. Until they find the damage, that ship is on a one-way trip to nowheresville."

"Smart," Han said, slapping palms with him. "Hey, I was wondering…just why did they take you prisoner anyway?"

"Hm?" Etcetera inquired, having been looking for crumbs and well on his way to starting a fight with Luke over them. "Oh. I think my outfit offends their sensibilities. Most of the soldiers that arrested me ran away screaming 'My eyes! My eyes!'

"Oh, and I'm very sorry, but don't go trying to Sit each other, by the way. I took it back; I can't have you running around using it all the time. I'm not quite sure who it's supposed to be used on yet, but it's not any of you."

"Hey! I had plans for that spell…or whatever!"

"Yes," Etcetera said, nodding fervently. "I know."

Author's Note: Yes, the end. I don't even want to go into Inuyasha watching Star Wars, so you'll have to imagine that little scene for yourself. Oh, yes, and I must give credit to the Yellow Submarine movie for the terrible hole joke… I don't want to own that one.

Suffice it to say that the first title was one of those moments of midnight silliness…the sub-title Kokoro found and showed me, and I laughed all day. Speaking of Kokoro, I wrote this in your honor, so you better review…