Okay, yet another story from when we were hyper. As usual, we don't own KOTOR. If we did, we would live in a ice cream palace getting sugar high every day. Don't ask how this story came around... really, don't.

So apparently this is how our perilous adventure begins. With innocent, pokey Bao-Dur sick from eating old cheese, he is now ill and unable to control his droids. He has decided to place, yes, an inexpierenced fool to fill out his daily chores. Yes, it is time for Atton to have his mid-life crisis in his early twenties (wow, thats early. people don't live long in this time zone)
to do the hardest task placed before him ever: dance with squirrels and clean the droids. Such a harsh task, dancing and dancing and frolicking and even cleaning oil off little T3, Remote, GOTO, and even HK-47. Yes, that does mean dusting too. Don't forget ever to take a bath before meeting a squirrel.
Atton Rand sat down on a crate, thinking to himself as he waited for the vast line of droids (im exaggerating, btw)
to appear for their little rubba dub dub. "I cant believe he put me up to cleaning stupid little tr- Wait?
WHAT ARE YOU DOING! HEY GET AWAY FROM THERE!" he shouted as he turned around, spotting Remote punching in launch codes to Nar Shadaa. "NOOO. GET AWAY FROM THERE, YA LITTLE TRASH PROBE!" he yelled, grabbing the droid and chucking it towards the door as he turned to replace the codes back to Dxun (Where the ducks are...QUACK!). He then sat back down, turning to clean T3 as he then hoped no more stupid incidents occurred.
That is, until Remote returned with an army of candy-cane bearing remote droids. All that Atton heard was the cries of little droids screeching, "JUMA JUICE. JUMA JUICE. PAZAAK AND A GALLON OF JUMA JUICE!" He struggled to wrestle the droids out, obviously not doing well with about fifty zapping him with tiny lazers. He fell back, yelping as the entire ship heard his screams, giggles in hysterics, and song-singing once they tied him to a chair with make-up all over his face. The little droids turned to the ship's console, punching in the codes to Nar Shadaa, once again screeching their little chant. (see up a little more about the juma juice...:D)
That all was occurring until Breanna, our exile, walked into the command deck with Bao-Dur, now in better health and not so pink. "Umm...Atton?" she asked, frowning. Atton starting yelling quite a variety of language words that should not be exposed to the minds of young readers. Breanna raised her eyebrows, walking over to a control panel and shutting down the droids. She looked over at Bao-Dur, both trying to hide their laughter. The two sat there, turning red from holding these back.
"Just do it. Let it out already," he grumbled, wiping the make-up in bright colors off his face as Breanna and Bao burst into laughter, to a point where their ribs were about to break. The two managed to get out before Atton could explode into a million billion gillion kabillion pieces with anger. This is the account of Atton Rand of the Ebon Hawk who suffered to little remote droids that had to get their juma juice from Nar Shadaa.