Han Solo was no Jedi Master,

He felt more at home with a blaster

He travelled the stars

In a 'second-hand car'

of a ship, held together with plasters

 

His nemesis, one Boba Fett

Had been charged with collecting Han's debt

To a warlord named Hut

With a sizable gut

And a penchant for semi-nude pets

 

Now Han knew from varius sources

That Jabba was low on resources

And needed repaid

But our Han chose to stay

And help Luke crush Imperial forces

 

Darth Vader was mightily p*ssed!

And, shaking a shiny black fist,

Wheezed "Solo is mine!",

And sent Boba to find

All the places his searches had missed

 

The Fett was a wily old fox

And, like Solo, thought outside the box

So in no time at all

He'd led Darth to them all

And had Han in a big slab of rock

 

Now Jabba the Hut was a slug

So he'd never been given a hug

And in truth it was sadness

That fuelled all his badness

His heartstrings just needed a tug

 

So when Boba gave Jabba Han's bier

Old sluggy was nearly in tears

They spent the whole day

Drawing things on his face

Such as boogers and comedy beards

 

But the party was sadly short lived

For a Jedi arrived with a 'gift'

That was part of a plan

To revivify Han

And escape 'cross the dunes on a skiff

 

A battle ensued, Han was freed,

And though sick and unable to see

The scoundrel still managed

To do fatal damage

To Boba fortuitously

 

While flailing about with a stick

Han landed the critical hit

That sent Boba down

To that mouth in the ground

To be lunch for the vile Sarlacc Pit

 

So the 'good' guys escaped to a man

Leaving Boba to rot 'neath the sand

Hardly a fate

Fit for someone so great,

Here's to Boba - way cooler than Han!

  

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

You want to creep across the floor inch by inch to the switch but as the shadows reach across the room you pounce out of bed.

excerpt from The Terror of The Night   by blithespirit