Chapter 7

6 DEGREES OF DECAPITATION

A Thriller Parody-Sorta-Satire-Like-Thing

CHAPTER 7: HOLY SITH!

"What's that sound?" asked GiGi VaVoom, globe-trotting archaeologist and part time refugee from the shelter for stray sex-kittens. It had been a couple of hours since we left the City of Angels and the Suburbs of Hobgoblins and were heading north for the 3rd piece of the puzzle when we heard that noise.

I sat up in the passenger seat. It wasn't Chompy the Badger snoring, he was wide awake, and his snoring was more akin to a sawmill with rusty equipment run by the souls of damned American Idol rejects than the high pitched nasal sound we were hearing.

"Turn off the CD player," I said, partially hoping to hear the sound clearer, but also because I was creeped out by a grown woman listening to so much N'Synch. I could hear the sound clearer, in fact, I could make out words:

"I don't like these grapes."

"The weather's too hot."

"It's too sunny."

"Those trees are ugly."

"The wind is mussing my hair."

"I know what that noise is," I said, "we just entered Whine Country. Skywalker Ranch can't be that far."

Chompy gave that psychotic smile of his. He was itching to give some folks there a piece of his mind, preferably while biting a piece of them. So I calmly negotiated with Chompy to not go on one of his mad mauling sprees since we were on a mission to recover the lost treasure of the Albanian Budgie, rescue former sidekick Playful1 from kidnappers and clear my name of the numerous and sundry crimes that I didn't actually committ.

Of course by 'negotiated' I mean 'smacked Chompy on the back of his head with a cricket bat,' 'til he agreed to play nice until we got the job done. Then he could maul to his heart's content.

#

WELCOME TO SKYWALKER RANCH said the sign.

ALL TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT said a larger sign above it.

I aimed GiGi's binoculars down to the compound's main gate and zoomed in. Two security guards, fittingly dressed like Storm Troopers were at the main gate. Their guns looked like more than the usual special effect, so storming the gate was out of the question.

I was going to have to be subtle.

"Furious," asked GiGi.

"Yeah."

"It's about my binoculars."

"You can have them back in a minute," I said, "I'm busy checking out the lay of the land."

"Could you at least take the strap off my neck," said GiGi between gasps for air.

"Fine," I said, wasting time untangling it. "The security here is tighter than the arse-hole of a bug. We need a plan."

"Where is the next part of the map specifically?" asked GiGi.

"It's in a secret chamber called the Secret Chamber of Secret Stuff," I answered, "and the last part of the map is printed on the back page of the draft of the script for Attack of the Clones that didn't suck."

"How do we get in?" asked GiGi.

"We need a diversion to keep the guards occuppied then we can sneak in," I said, "and I have just the plan. Do you have a blackberry?"

GiGi nodded a pulled one out of her considerable decolletage.

"Is there anything you don't keep down there?" I asked.

"Just take your blackberry."

I typed out a quick e-mail and hit send.

"What did you do?" asked GiGi.

"Get in the car," I said, "this should only take a few minutes and we should be ready."

"Ready for what?"

Suddenly a massive horde of angry geeks came over the hills howling in nerd rage.

"I just leaked out plans for a Jar-Jar Binks movie," I answered, slipping into the driver's seat.

"Now what?" asked GiGi as I gunned the engine.

"While the guards are distracted with the angry geek horde, we'll sneak in with the silent subtlety of a silently subtle ninja," I answered, putting the petal to metal, rocketing down the hill and into the chain-link fence.

Sparks flew as we tore through the fence. GiGi screamed.

"Was that fence electrified?"

"Yeah," I answered, "but that's nothing compared to the minefield."

BOOM went a landmine directly behind us.

"You call this subtle?"

"It's as subtle as I get," I answered.

"We'll get blown up!"

"The key is keep a constant speed over 50 MPH," I explained, as another mine went off, raining dirt on the roof of the car. "That way the mines will explode behind us. I learned that when I was smuggling refugees out of East Germany. I also learned to have air holes in the hiding places, or things will get messy."

BOOM!

More dirt rained onto the roof of GiGi's car.

I spun the car out over some more mines and onto the relatively mine free main road through the compound.

"Easy as pie," I said.

Then the car's windows shattered in a flurry of blaster fire.

GiGi and I dove out of the car, just as it burst into a ball of flame.

"CHOMPY!" I cried out, seeing no sign of my furry, psychotic little friend.

I realized that I had no time to grieve when I felt the barrel of a blaster pressed into my back.

"Furious D," said a Lucasfilm Stormtrooper, "put your hands up, you are now our prisoner."

I put my hands up.

Then I felt the butt of a blaster rifle hit me on the head.

Then I felt pavement on my face.

Then I felt nothing.

Sometimes life sucks.