Twilight of the Star Vampires (Set of Books 1-3):A Parody of the Twilight Saga, Star Wars and Star Trek

by Paula Sunsong

  “Wow, I’m the chosen one. Do you think Paddy will date me now?”

  “No.”

  “Not even for a lunch date?”

  “No.”

  “What good is it being the chosen one when you can’t get a date?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go bowling.”

  “Okay, you pay.”

  Obegone sighed.

  They walked back to the ship. Paddy ran out to greet them.

  “I searched for you two. Manikin, you’re covered in cheese! What happened?”

  “It’s because I’m becoming more powerful than any Jetti in history,” said Manikin. “And I’m doing it all for you, Paddymay. Well, actually I’m doing it a lot for myself, but it sounds better to say I’m doing it for you.”

  Paddy rolled her eyes. She remembered her plan with Obegone to fake her death.

  “Your great Jetti power is choking me,” said Paddy putting her hands to her neck.

  “I’m not doing anything,” said Manikin.

  Paddy bulged her eyes out and made choking noises.

  “Stop Manikin, you’re killing her!” said Obegone in his most hammy actor way.

  “Huh? How could I?”

  “It’s your extreme power out of control.”

  Paddy melodramatically collapsed to the ground. Obegone rushed over to take her pulse.

  “She’s dead.” He turned his head away in mock grief.

  “Let me see,” said Manikin.

  ‘No, it’s too terrible. Go before the Imperial police come.”

  Palpitate strode into the area. He looked at Paddy lying on the ground.

  “You were supposed to take out Obegone, not Queen Paddymay,” said Palpitate.

  “Paddy wouldn’t let me take her out and I wouldn’t go out with Obegone.” Manikin made a face.

  “I mean take out of action,” said Palpitate shaking his head. “What did you do to Queen Paddymay?”

  “He choked her with his Jetti powers,” said Obegone.

  “It wasn’t my fault this time! Everything is always my fault,” said Manikin. “Well at least I don’t remember doing it.”

  “Come Manikin, you are my apprentice now.” Palpitate flicked his wrist, causing Manikin to float into the air.

  “Hey, what?” said Manikin as he floated upside down.

  “We will meet again, Obegone, and I will teach you the true meaning of the dark side.”

  Obegone shrugged.

  Palpitate floated Manikin back to his hidden ship. Obegone made no move to stop him. Why undo his good luck of being free of Manikin as an apprentice? After Manikin was out of sight, Obegone winked at Paddy and offered her his hand. She stood up, and smiled.

  “Did I overdue the acting out my death scene?”

  “No,” said Obegone. “You were perfect. Manikin thinks you are really dead. Now let’s get Yodama, and get out of here.”

  Palpitate took Manikin back to his secret villain headquarters. He looked disdainfully at Manikin’s cheese soiled Jetti robes.

  “You can find some clothes in my closet to wear, until we buy you more clothes,” Palpitate pointed to his closet. “I have to go to strategy meeting. I’ll be back later. Don’t’ go anywhere.”

  Manikin searched Palpitate’s closet, and found Palpitate’s old Halloween costume. It had a black helmet, a black plastic skull like face and a long cape. Lights flickered on a chest plate with switches.

  “Perfect!” said Manikin. “I’ll have to show it to my old master. He’ll be impressed, and scared.”

  After dressing in the costume, Manikin called Obegone on his view screen.

  “Manikin, why are you wearing that suit?” said Obegone.

  “I have to wear it. I was injured by you throwing me into the lava.”

  “It was melted cheese, not lava.”

  “Don’t you think this suit makes me look cool?”

  “No.”

  “Look, it has reverb on my speaker. It makes my voice sound deep and masculine.” Manikin turned on the reverb. “Now, they shall listen to me.” He shook his fists in the air, his voice a bass tone.

  “That’s ludicrous. Take that off, Manikin,” said Obegone.

  “From now on, you shall call me…DARK CATER.” Cater placed his hands on his hips and laughed evilly.

  Chapter 20 Dark Cater

  Dum dum dum da dum da dum dum

  A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, the Imperial senate has become a puppet organization controlled by Emperor Palpitate. Princess Lela, secretly the daughter of vampire Edward Cullet and the believed dead Queen Paddy, spies for the alliance of rebels. The revolting alliance fights to free all enslaved by the evil empire controlled by the evil emperor and his evil minion, the oddly dressed Dark Cater. . .

  Dark Cater finished flossing between the grille work of his faceplate. He stepped back from the mirror, studied his image, and then added a coat of floor wax to his helmet, finishing up with a vigorous buffing with a shoe polish brush. Striking a manly pose, his hands on his hips, he regarded his image. He turned and admiring the swish of his black cloak and checked that the hem was just the right length. This year's Villain's Fashion Guide dictated that cloaks must "just lightly kiss the back of the heels," and Cater was hoping to make this year's "ten best dressed villains" list. He'd been snubbed last year, the fuzzy balls he'd worn hanging off the edge of his cloak and helmet had earned him a place on the worst dressed list.

  Cater would make the fashion columnist pay for that insult, but not until after the columnist put him on this year's best dressed list.

  The comm buzzed. Cater pressed the button, and the face of a gaunt general appeared.

  "Lord Cater, we have the ship in sight!"

  Cater carefully turned on the reverb box on his outfit, which gave him a deeper more commanding voice.

  "KEEP THEM IN SIGHT. I'LL COME TO THE BRIDGE."

  The general jumped to at the sound of Cater's booming voice. ”Yes, Lord Cater!"

  Cater dropped the used floss to the ground for some imperial space janitor to pick up, and left his quarters for the docking bay.

  Princess Lela Oregano hid in the alcove off the corridor. She could hear the clanking of the pincers as they pulled her ship into the waiting jaws of Cater's ship. A stiff droid, talking continuously, walked past with a rolling garbage can.

  Talking to himself, thought Lela. She looked closer. That's no garbage can, that's an Aretoodonot unit--with a recorder! She whispered to it. It whistled back and turned into Lela's alcove while the stiff robot walked on, still talking.

  "I need to record something," she said pushing buttons on the robot. Two eight track tapes popped out.

  "Damn! How does this thing work?" Lela smacked the side of Aretoodonot. "Is this hunk of junk turned on? Oh, it's on. Hello. This is our darkest hour. Please help. P.S. my hair usually looks better than this."

  Meanwhile the taller droid continued talking, unaware his companion was elsewhere.

  "Really, Aretoo, this spaceship is a shambles. Look at this corridor. What color! Who thought this color scheme up, I'd really like to know. Perhaps, the Empire style will be much better, once they takeover the ship that is." A laser bolt ricocheted off one wall and into the wall next to him. He looked at the hole in the wall. "Well, this certainly is an improvement. Now at least there is a point of interest in the wall." Another bolt blasted near him, splattering him with shards of metal. " No, no. That's overdoing it. What am I saying? Aretoo, we must get out of here! Aretoo?” He looked around. “Aretoo come here. We must escape before these barbarians take over the ship!"

  Aretoo rolled out into the corridor. He and Seetoop’od hurried away.

  "There she is!” cried a guard spotting the Princess in the dark alcove. Lela pulled out a gun and took him out with one shot. "That finishing school was sure worth it," she said turning and running for it. Her vinyl moon boots, and her long white dress tripped her.

  Six imperial guards, with stun blasters drawn, surrou
nded her.

  "Damn dress," she said as she lay on the floor.

  “Sir,” said Commander Nobin, “We have secured the ambassador’s ship. It is now safe for you to come aboard.”

  “And?” said Cater.

  “Um, music player and smoke machines are at the ready.”

  “Good. I’ll be arriving in five minutes. Make sure the scene is set!” Cater snapped off his communicator.

  A few minutes later, Commander Nobin stood in the boarded ship’s corridor, waiting with Imperial Troops. He heard the clank of Cater’s ship latching onto the airlock.

  “Quick! Turn on the music, and smoke up the corridor,” said Nobin to several troopers. One trooper hit the switch on the portable stereo and Cater’s theme song began playing. Two others pumped out smoke from small hand held machines until the corridor swirled with mysterious looking fog.

  “Ready?” said Cater on the communicator.

  “Ready, Lord Cater,” said Nobin into his wristwatch communicator.

  The airlock opened with a dramatic whoosh, and Cater took broad steps in. A videographer rushed from behind Cater and into the corridor. He hurried to take some shots.

  “Lord Cater,” said the videographer. “I missed the historic moment of you stepping onto the enemy’s ship. Please, do it again.”

  Cater trotted back out, and entered again, while the videographer got down on one knee so Cater would look taller in the footage. Cater stopped and posed, knowing the smoke, music and background of white storm troopers would compliment his black ensemble.

  Villain Quarterly Magazine, here I come! Thought Cater.

  Meanwhile, Aretoo led Seetoo to an escape pod. The two robots climbed in, closed the door with a whoosh, and pushed the eject button.

  Two Imperial security men watched on their monitor as the pod tumbled into space.

  “Should we stop it?” said one, named Bric.

  “Nah, no life forms aboard,” said Brac.

  “Yeah, good idea. Doing nothing, we don’t need permission for.”

  “No forms to fill out.”

  “Nope.”

  “Of course, it could be two droids with the secret plans aboard, escaping to the planet below.”

  “Could be,” said one guard leaning back in his chair. “And if we let them escape, Cater would use us for outside spaceship shielding.”

  “Yep.”

  “But it’s probably not two droids with secret plans.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Let’s do nothing.”

  “I’m with you.”

  “Another round of cards?"

  “Righty-O.” He shuffled the cards and dealt them out.

  “Any twos?”

  “Go fish!”

  Chapter 21 Auntie Mame

  “Oh, Luck! Luck!”

  “Coming, Auntie Mame!” Handsome young Luck Stywalker rolled out from under his nifty anti-gravity car where he was changing the oil. The bottom of the car rested on bricks. Last time, Uncle had tried leaving the car turned on “float” mode while he changed the oil, only to find out anti-gravity cars don’t float without oil.

  Luck wiped his hands on a rag, then held his hands under the sonic handwash. It left the oil still on his hands, but he didn’t notice.

  “Luck? Luck, dear?” called Auntie Mame. She slowly walked into the dome shaped workshop.

  “Here, Auntie Mame.” Luck looked affectionately at his rounded Auntie in her beige tunic, the corner held by her favorite gold pin, given to her by her secret lover. Uncle Matt didn’t know about the affair yet. Luck didn’t know who the secret lover was, but he saw her slipping off for romantic trysts. After all, Uncle Matt hadn’t been too feisty since the car fell on him.

  “There you are dear!” She handed him a small sack tied shut. Luck untied it, and poured out five gummy mares.

  “Auntie Mame! This is a fortune!”

  “It’s half of our savings from the last harvest. Now, dear, you must take this to Honest Al’s used robot sale. It’s his biggest sale of the year, and your Uncle isn’t feeling well enough to go.”

  “But, Auntie, I’m not good at getting deals.” Luck was thinking of the last time he went to honest Al’s and came home not with a tractor robot, but some steak knives and a pasta maker. Every time he had reconsidered buying, Honest Al would say: “But wait, there’s more!”

  “Just don’t let him fast talk you dear! We need the robots to help plant the crops this season.”

  “Okay, Auntie Mame. I guess I’ll do it, if you think so.”

  “Good, Luck.”

  Luck drove into town to Honest Al’s lot. It was littered with rusting hulks of forgotten hover cars, spaceships and robots. In the corner of the lot, on a platform, was a shiny silver, latest model of the Exterminator robot. Luck’s heart leapt at the sight.

  “Well, hello there, Luck!” called Honest Al, overjoyed at seeing an easy mark. It was like shooting ducks in a barrel. He walked up to Luck’s hover car as Luck got out. Al extended his hand in greeting but Luck rushed past him.

  “Is that the latest model?” Luck was standing at the base of the platform for the Exterminator robot.

  “Well, yes it is, you’ve got a good eye to spot…”

  “What attachments does it come with?”

  “You get the …”

  “How much can it lift?” Luck climbed up on the platform and reached out to touch it.

  “About 3000…”

  “Can I touch it?”

  “It’s probably not a good idea because…”

  Luck knocked on the Exterminator’s chest. The red pupils of the Exterminator focused on Luck.

  “Hey, it sees me! Nya, nya, nya, can you hit me?” Luck danced around in front of the killer robot.

  “Get down! It’s got a defense mechanism!”

  Luck waved his hands in front of the robot. A gun popped out of the robot’s leg. In a nanosecond the robot had grabbed the gun and was raising it.

  “Whoa!” Honest Al grabbed Luck and pulled him off the platform a split second before a laser bolt blasted from the gun. The bolt smashed into a nearby anti-gravity bowling alley.

  “Strike!” came a voice from inside the bowling alley as the laser bolt incinerated the bowling pins.

  “Emergency shutdown! Code pineapple!” yelled Honest Al. The Exterminator's eyes went black and it froze in place. Honest Al pulled off his cowboy hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “That was close. I lose more customers that way.”

  “I’ll take it!” said Luck, looking at the Exterminator.

  “No, son.” Honest Al put his arm around Luck. “You don’t want something obvious like that.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No,” Al steered him towards a space containing assorted dingy robots, some leaning to the side. “No, any Johnny-come-lately could buy an Exterminator robot, just for cheap show.”

  “That sounds good,” said Luck.

  “No, no, Luck, you want the really good robots. I keep them here in the back.” They stopped in front of one with multiple arms. Two arms were laying on the ground, and a third appendage looked ready to fall off. “Ya see, these ones here are what I call my ‘stealth’ robots.”

  “Stealth robots?”

  “Yessir. I don’t show them to just anyone. You see these here are more powerful than that shiny chrome plaything out front. With these robots, the manufacturer was smart. They made these ones look like everyday robots so you can get them by…” Al lowered his voice “nosy government types.” He winked.

  “Oh, I get it!” Luck winked back.

  “Now I’m going to show you the REAL robots.” Al lead Luck even deeper into the bowels of the robot lot. They turned a corner and came upon a janitor sweeping rusty nuts and bolts into a pan. He opened the lid of a garbage can and emptied the pan with a loud metal clatter.

  “Larry, take a breather,” said Al to the janitor, who shuffled off. Al stopped in front of the garbage can. “Ta-da! Isn’t she a beaut?”
>
  Luck stared at the garbage can, then at Honest Al.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” You don’t find them like this anymore.” Al said with a big smile.

  “Garbage cans?”

  “Garbage can? Garbage can! Son, this is a model Aretoodonot, one of the most sophisticated machines in existence.”

  “But it looks like a garbage can.”

  “Looks like, looks like! Son, looks mean nothing in robots.”

  “Can it plant crops?” Luck said, thinking of the look on Auntie Mame’s face if he brought the robot back, and it couldn’t help on the farm. She’d feed him cardboard for breakfast for a month if the robot couldn’t plant crops.

  “Can a rabbit make bacon?” said Al with a big smile.

  “Umm, no.”

  “What I mean son is that it’s as fast as two rabbits on their honeymoon.”

  Luck scratched his head.

  “Can a cow chew cud?” said Honest Al.

  “I don’t know, can it?” said Luck, hoping it was like a knock-knock joke.

  “Weren’t you raised on a farm?”

  “Yes, on an alien one, with robots and purple wheat. I’ve never seen a cow.”

  “Does a bear…oh, never mind. Yes, it can plant crops.”

  “I don’t know,” said Luck, rubbing his chin and looking at the ‘bot.

  “But wait, there’s more!” Honest Al said rubbing his hands together. “Follow me and I’ll show you a real deal!”

  Honest Al lead them past piles of scrap metal interspersed with dented hover cars and even more dented robots, into a small, cluttered office. Next to the java dispenser was a humanoid robot, holding wallpaper swatches up to the coffee stained wall.

  “Good day, Mr. Albert!” said the robot cheerfully. “Good news, sir. I’ve narrowed down the selection to 25 wallpaper patterns. My current favorite is the Robin's egg blue polka dots set against the cream background.” The robot held the swatch against the wall and looked for approval from Al.

  Al clamped his hand on the robot’s shoulder and turned him around to face Luck. “Seetoop’od, meet your new master,” Al said indicating Luck. “Luck, meet Seetoop’od, one expert seed sower.”