I had just found the perfect lightsaber to use in my fight against the evil (but in a cool way) Darth Rampage. It was an extra-long, blue-raspberry flavored frozen icicle straight from the frosted grip of my respected teacher in the Force, Obi Wan Kenmore Freezer. I admired the newest weapon in my arsenal (also including a spatula, a slice of plastic-wrapped cheese, and a frying pan that doubled as a shield and a helmet) as I gave my teacher a salute. "You have taught me much, Obi Wan, about the ways of my frozen-dinner foods, but I must leave in order to seek my final teacher in the Force." I bowed to the Obi Wan Kenmore Freezer and went back inside the house to seek the old and truly knowledgeable presence of Yogurt, who would instruct me in the final ways of defeating my evil foe Darth Rampage.

My sidekick in the Force, Bun-Bun, was stuck in my belt next to my spatula. The fluffy white bunny held my slice of cheese securely in place, but the frying pan and my newest weapon were slung over my shoulders. I carefully scanned the area before navigating my way through the kitchen.

Old and knowledgeable, but hard to find in the crowded jungle inside the dreaded swamp world of Refrigerator. I searched for my goal, almost despairing as I neared the backwaters of the tiny world, which was inhabited by rabid coleslaw and slimy green things better left unnamed. Suddenly, I saw it up ahead!

"Yogurt! Teach me what it is to JEDI**!"

(**Author’s Note: JEDI is an acronym standing for Just Eating Digestable Items. I have a problem with that sometimes...)

Yogurt taught me much.

*Burp!* Mmm, Cherry Vanilla flavor...

After going back to my old teacher for a necessary time (my lightsaber had gotten mushy), I returned to the house to search for Darth Rampage. My pan helmet was on my head, and I was holding my spatula and newly-refrozen lightsaber as I looked. Bun-Bun valiantly held onto his piece of cheese.

There! On the couch reading a magazine! The Dark Crab!

I sneaked to the kitchen counter and peeked over it. A little less than ten feet away, Darth Rampage was studying whatever magazine he was reading. Probably something about evil, dark, and sinister things. What ELSE would someone on the Dark Side read? Playboy? I hoped not. If he’d gone the way of the Dark Emperor Brothers, then there was no hope of saving him anymore. Besides, I’d feel funny if I ever wore a bathing suit around him again.

I dragged my thoughts back to the task at hand, feeling Bun-Bun’s silent reproach as he held my cheese in place. I had to do my teachers in the Force proud! Obi Wan Kenmore Freezer and Yogurt’s ghost were counting on me! The Dark Crab was ten feet away. And...facing AWAY from me! In his human form; an advantage for me. However, I warned myself not to become too confident. My foe was cunning and wise in the ways of the Force, not to mention bigger than I was.

I made my plan and moved quickly, vaulting over the counter and landing on the footstool below, bouncing from it to the floor. My plan was simple: run over and leap onto the couch, landing knees first on Darth Rampage’s stomach to incapacitate him. Then I would slice and dice with my light saber!

Or, at least, that was how it was SUPPOSED to go. However, at the last second Darth Rampage sensed a disturbance in the Force and rolled off the couch onto the floor. I hit the couch with my knees and bounced to my feet on top of it. My evil nemesis stood up on the opposite side of the low table next to the couch and ducked my next swipe with the light saber. A couple pieces of frost slid off of it and nailed him even though I missed. It gave me hope that he wasn’t invincible, and I prepared for another assault.

"Die, Darth Rampage!" I screamed enthusiastically.

"Darth Rampage?" He dodged to the side as my spatula came into play and deflected the light saber with his magazine. YIKES! Not ANOTHER car magazine! He truly was being corrupted by the Emperor Brothers! "LD, what are you ON?!"

I stopped the offensive and looked at him solemnly. "Six cans of Wild Cherry Pepsi, a container of Yogurt, and three bottles of Cherry Cream Soda. And the Force." I raised my slightly-slushy saber suspiciously. "Which reminds me...you’re not my father, are you?"

"NO!"

"Oh. Okay." I blinked at my weaponry. That light saber was looking pretty tasty at the moment. And despite Yogurt’s teaching properties, it wasn’t very filling. I had no idea what I was going to make for dinner tonight, either.

Ooo, another adventure in my ongoing quest to JEDI**!

"Hey, come help me make dinner!" I said to my semi-vanquished foe (I didn’t remember him surrendering, but...). "I forgot that I’m cooking for everyone tonight!" Making a speculative humming noise to myself, I used my teeth to rip the top off my lightsaber so I could check and see if it was broken. How did all this ice and liquid get into such a delicate piece of machinery? What a shame; it seemed to be broken. *slurp!* Shame, shame, shame… "You gonna help me?"

He gave me an incredulous look, still holding his magazine up defensively in front of himself. It was Yet Another Car Magazine. I certainly wasn’t going to attack him while he was holding it. I’m so sick of seeing those things I could PUKE. "What are you making?" he asked cautiously as he lowered the magazine.

"I dunno. We’ll have to dig through the recipe books."

"I’ll pass."

I shrugged and grinned at him. Darth Rampage looked back at me warily, probably recognizing that there was something wrong beyond the norm, here. "Guess I’ll have to find something all by myself," I chirped as I turned to bounce back towards the kitchen. "Wheeeeee!"

He caught me around the waist, cleverly disarming Bun-Bun of his cheese while at the same time restraining me. How wise my foe was! He used the Force to capture me…although he seemed slightly surprised by the slice of cheese on the floor. "I don’t think I should let you out of my sight," Darth Rampage said sinisterly. Well, okay, so maybe he sounded a tad bit exasperated. Or just annoyed, take your pick. "I’ve seen what you do to the kitchen when you’re only HALF this hyper."

I wriggled, all happy-happy joy-joy still. Six cans of Cherry Pepsi will do that to me. "That’s only when I decide to make desserts, Darth Rampage! I need to cook for the entire family tonight, so I’ve got to find more than that." I froze as my dilemma was finally made clear to me. The last temptation to join the Dark Side of the Force loomed near, and I found myself weakening before it. My problem? This: what do I cook when the Emperor Brothers are all home? What in the name of all those who JEDI do I cook for a vampire wannabe, a mechanic, a musician, and a religious nut? They NEVER agree on what to eat! I wouldn’t have to worry about Darth Rampage, though. As far as I could tell, he’d inhale anything I set in front of him (as long as I wasn’t chuckling like Tarantulas at the time, at least). It must be a side effect of his use of the Force or something that he never seemed to gain weight.

Yogurt! Help me! The Dark Force of fast food is tempting me! Don’t let me succumb to the evil that is McDonalds!

Fortunately, Obi Wan Kenmore Freezer’s chill voice drifted through my mind and cooled my panic. "Use the Force, young one. Use the Force, and what I’ve taught you…"

Oh. Right. "To the garage!" I bellowed, and Darth Rampage winced. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that while he was so close to me. It couldn’t have been good for his hearing. "Frozen food shall aid me in my quest to JEDI!"

"You’ve snapped, haven’t you?" he asked in that too-loud voice people get when they can’t hear very well. "Besides, don’t you need a recipe first?"

Oh. Right. "To the—"

Darth Rampage slapped a hand over my mouth before I could continue to ruin his hearing. "I shouldn’t have said anything," he grumbled, then used the arm he had around my waist to lift me so he could walk into the kitchen. I tried to walk on air and succeeded in kicking him in the shins. "LD! Cut it out!"

"Mmpph?" What? Weren’t these lessons in the Force? I thought he was helping me learn how to walk on air, really…heeheehee…"MEEEEEERK!" That sound was the result of me seeing the stairwell and realizing what Darth Rampage intended to do with me. I wasn’t the Emperor Brothers! Darth Rampage was supposed to throw THEM down the stairs, become mortally wounded, and then we’d have a touching scene where he renounces the Dark Side of the Force and I could call him ‘Father.’

Hmmmm…well, actually, that scene pretty much went out the window anyway since as far as I knew, Darth Rampage was immortal. And I was REALLY hoping he wasn’t my father.

I still didn’t want to get thrown down the stairs, though. "MMMMRRRRRRR!!" I screamed, and Darth Rampage yelped as I began kicking again, this time deliberately aiming for his shins. The Force tried to guide me, however, as we drew closer to the stairs. Either that, or it was pure desperation. I didn’t want to do it, I felt bad about doing it, but…

"If you don’t cut that out, I’m going to throw you down the stairs!" my captor threatened, and I lost any regret for my actions. I let the Force guide my next kick.

Five minutes later, Darth Rampage was finally able to get his knees under himself. He was still whimpering, though, and I patted him on the head in an attempt at comfort. I had dragged a chair over so I could sit by him and wait for his recovery, but somewhere in there I had picked up another can of Cherry Pepsi and a Hershey chocolate bar. I didn’t mind at all. Ten minutes after that, and my chair had cans of various kinds of pop surrounding it with handfuls of candy wrappers. Darth Rampage was sipping from a can of Mountain Dew between whimpers, and I was eating a roll of Lifesavers some poor fool had left unattended. Ah, sugar and caffiene. Life was good.

"Did you," Darth Rampage started in a falsetto, but he paused to clear his throat. "…have to do that?" he finished in his normal voice.

I sighed. Maybe I HAD overreacted. "I felt it was necessary at the time. Why is it that you’re immortal, but you—"

"Immortality doesn’t help much against THAT type of injury," he growled in a I-DON’T-Want-To-Talk-About-It voice. Funny, but every male acts like that whenever it comes up… "Would you mind changing me back to robot form?"

"Well…" I started picking up wrappers and cans as he struggled to his feet. "You know my parents don’t like you scratching up the tile with your feet…"

The Dark Crab winced and remained a little hunched over as he got up. "Yeah, but I wouldn’t have to deal with this!"

"Um." Point. "Okay. But you’ve got to help me find a recipe!" I added as I willed him robotic.

The robot in my kitchen straightened with a sigh of relief, but he gave me the Evil Eye. Um. Optic. Whatever! "Don’t DO that!" he said before realizing that I had begun bouncing in place and probably didn’t care if a giant robot was trying to appear threatening. "LD, what has gotten into you?" Darth Rampage sighed in exasperation as he attempted to catch me by the shoulders. It looked like HE was the one jumping around from my point of view, but after I thought about it I noticed that his feet never left the floor. So I must be the one moving. Hmmm, or this could be a trick…

I decided not to worry about it. If the Dark Crab’s powers of the Force could make the entire kitchen start dancing around me while I stood still, there wasn’t really anything I could do about it for now. I had more important things to do…like find a recipe to make for supper tonight! "It’s SUMMER!" I giggled. "Summer, summer, SUMMER!! No more school! Yay!" The kitchen spun around me.

"Stop turning cartwheels!"

Okay, so maybe I was the one spinning. "Hey! I got an idea!"

Darth Rampage continued trying to pin me to the floor. I hadn’t even noticed that he had knocked me down! "That’s nice, LD. Now—STOP THAT!" He pried my hands off of the horns on either side of his head. "By the Pit, you’d think I would have no trouble keeping a HUMAN contained…"

I somehow managed to squirm out from underneath him. He may be large, but I’m nimble! "Let’s find recipes to make all this week, Darth Rampage! I have the perfect cook book, and if you help me pick the right recipes—" I found myself dangling upside-down by my ankles. Darth Rampage was holding them and looking down at me sinisterly. Or he was just annoyed that I was swinging myself around as he held me.

"Stop calling me ‘Darth’," he snapped. "And can’t you hold still for two seconds?!"

"No." *THUMP!* "Owwww…" I righted myself and rubbed my head. It throbbed in time with the kitchen. "Whoa, lookie all the pretty colors!" Darth Rampage…um, Rampage put a hand over his optics and took deep breaths. I know because he kept repeating it.

"Deep breaths, deep breaths, don’t kill her, take deep breaths…"

I scrambled to my feet and peered at the counter with intense interest. Either the knock on my head or the amount of sugar and caffeine I had consumed made the pile of cook books different colors than I remember them being. Either way, as long as I could still read them, I didn’t care. I stationed Bun-Bun and my frying pan by the pile to keep watch over the precious Books o’ Cookin’, then began the hunt for the book I wanted. I used the spatula to help me dig.

"What are you looking for?" Rampage asked in a resigned type of voice. Bwahaha! I had worn him down! "Er…" He took a long look at the white stuffed bunny holding a frying pan beside me. "Do I even want to know what—"

"Nope," I said cheerfully.

"—okay. So?"

I paused in my search to give him a crooked (evil or lopsided, take your pick) grin. "AAARR, well if it ain’t me old friend, the Dark Crab! We be lookin’ fer buried treasure, ARRR!" Brandishing my spatula, I went back to digging. I ignored the robot now staring at me with a horrified look on his face. Not afraid—just one of those expressions people get when they finally recognize something terrible right in front of them.

"You’ve crossed the ten-can mark, haven’t you?" he asked in a quiet voice.

There was another can of Mountain Dew on the counter behind Bun-Bun. I couldn’t remember how it had gotten there, but I grabbed it and took a sip anyhow. Not Cherry Pepsi, but I’m all for variety. "Yup. And I only drink more cans from here."

Yeesh. He actually moaned in despair! Talk about overly dramatic…

I should probably explain that the ten-can mark is what I usually reach during exams. Exam week is the last week of school, which was, of course, last week. In an effort to stay awake for most of a week, I had drunk coffee to the point where I actually didn’t want any at the moment (since I’m a coffee-holic, this probably means that any sane person would be running away at the mere SIGHT of coffee. I just didn’t want any). When coffee hadn’t been available, I had used pop. Needless to say, I had terrorized the household. There was no actual number for how much I had drunk, but my brothers (and apparently Rampage) had decided that I went hyper-crazy by about the tenth can of pop. Therefore, the ten-can mark became a point of no return.

"Want one?" I chirped.

Rampage looked between the Mountain Dew in my hand and my face. "…will it dull the pain?" he asked warily (probably referring to the part of the week that had ended up with him running away screaming ‘The pain! The pain!’ after trying to study for an exam with me. I still think he was being overly dramatic again. Prolonged exposure to me on a sugar high is NOT painful…I think).

"Sure." I willed him human and handed over the can of pop. He shrugged and gulped it down. He was briefly surprised when I handed over the entire 24-pack, but I had already decided that I didn’t want to know how it had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. There are some things better left a mystery.

Everything was gaining a barely perceptible sparkle around the edges. I was approaching the caffeinated version of Nirvana. I grinned beatifically and turned to share my newly discovered insights on the world in general with Rampage, but he already had a glazed look in his eyes. His hands were shaking. There were four empty cans of Mountain Dew on the counter next to him and…yep, there went another one. Hmmm. I had forgotten that he usually didn’t drink this much pop. He wasn’t used to this. "Let’s start looking for recipes," Rampage suggested with a goofy smile, and I nodded back.

From there, the week only got better. At least, from our perspective.

"What one you lookin’ at?"

"Grandma’s Recipe Box. Did your grandmother really write this?"

"No! We picked that up in Zion National Park YEARS ago. Why? Find anything in it?"

"Well…this one with woodchuck looks interesting. Wasn’t there one down by the river that your cat was fighting with? I think that’s why he was limping…"

"…you sold me. Dinner is served!"

"I can go catch it—hey, what recipe is that?"

"This is the one we’re going to make for Sunday. Everybody likes stew, right?"

"Yeah, but where are we gonna get an elephant?"

"I already thought of that. Remember the makeawish.com site?"

"Um…"

"Well, I know that there’s a fanfic with Ironhide as an elephant, and I figure that if I ask for HIM then we won’t be killing one of an endangered species. Doesn’t that make sense?"

"Um. Pass me a can of Mountain Dew. I’ve got to go catch a woodchuck."

"That went over well."

"Tasted pretty good, too. I don’t think we should tell your brothers what it was that they were eating, though. Humans have such weak stomachs."

"You’re probably right. Get me another Cherry Pepsi, will you--What’s that sound?"

"…an elephant stomping around outside."

"How’d you know that?"

"I’m looking out the window. Now he’s saying something to one of your brothers."

"Oh. Is he talking with an accent?"

"Er…yes. How’d you—"

"Yay! That’s the Ironhide I asked makeawish.com for! Go kill him."

"….."

"What? I’ll change you to your robot form as soon as you get outside."

"…you’re really going to let me kill him?"

"Well, it says that he needs to be sliced up into bite-sized pieces, and I figure that you’d probably be able to slice up an elephant better than I could. And I don’t think either of us could do it without killing him."

"So I can do whatever I want to him?"

"Sure. The recipe calls for a ‘tenderized, medium-sized elephant,’ after all. Oh, but it also says to ‘Save the tusks for unique table decorations’."

"I can’t believe you’re going to let me do this…"

"Why not? I never DID like Ironhide. Try not to alarm the neighbors too much while I’m gone, though."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Hunting our supper. That recipe book you were looking through yesterday may just have the cure for our pigeon problem…"

"Hmmm…Pigeons taste like chicken. Hey, Rampage! RAMPAGE! The elephant is DEAD! You don't have to pulverize it; I just wanted it tenderized! I have to have something solid to marinate, ya know!…I know what that gesture means, Dark Crab! I oughta—aw, what the slag. I’ll leave the marinade out for you. Just dump whatever’s left of Ironhide in when you’re done."

"Are you quite done?"

"That was fun. Gimme a Coke. Nah, just hand over the entire case."

"Hmmph…here. Well, I hope you’re still happy after you’ve hunted down tonight’s dinner. That recipe book you had is just FULL of ideas!"

"You’re too hyper. You know that, right?"

"I’m not the one doing jumping jacks."

"I am?…oh. Well, you’re dancing on the counter."

"Yeah, but at least I know I am. And I’m browning the elephant meat at the moment, so I don’t have anything else to do but stand here and watch it, anyway. But YOU…"

"I don’t like how you’re grinning."

"Go get me these ingredients!"

"GAH! You’ve got to be kidding me!"

"Bwahahaha!"

"…you’re not. Slag. I’m taking the Coke with me."

"*urp!* Whaddya know, roast skunk isn’t that bad. You, however…"

"Will you at least let me into the garage?"

"Nope. I’m even considering closing this window. It’s kinda weird that tomato juice didn’t work very well. I would have thought metal would rinse off easier. Do you want me to change you back into your human form?"

"Smelling like this?!"

"I’ll take that as a no. Ah, well. Since you’re out there anyway, go find me a musk rat. There should be a couple down by the creeks."

"What are you making THIS time?"

"Baked musk rat loaf."

"….."

"What?"

"Are you telling your brothers what you’re feeding them?"

"Nope. I’m about ready to start cooking the stew, though, and I’m wondering if I should save some for later. It says it feeds 4,500 people."

"Don’t look at me for help. I’m just catching the musk rat, remember?"

"Hmm. I think I’ll cut out the two rabbits. That way it just serves 500."

"Um…I think there’s something wrong with that."

"That’s what the recipe says! Here, I’ll hold it up to the window so you can read it."

"…maybe this isn’t the best recipe to be using. Do you really have to cook it for three days?"

"It’s a lot of meat. Besides, it’s too late to stop now. Have another can of pop and go catch a musk rat."

"What’s that smell?"

"Do you have to ask? Take another tomato juice bath, Rampage—"

"No, I’ve gotten used to myself by now. I meant, what’s the OTHER smell?"

"Elephant stew."

"…this might actually turn out okay. Hey, what are you adding?"

"A can of Cherry Pepsi."

"…nevermind."

"It couldn’t hurt! And stop looking at me like that. Hand me a Cherry Cream Soda and the recipe book, please."

"….."

"Don’t worry: I’m not going to combine them."

"That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m just thinking about what else you might find in there."

"Possum roast?"

"My point exactly."

"Find me a possum, Dark Crab!"

"*sigh* I’m going to just so I can get away from you."

"I wouldn’t have thought an animal that looked like that tasted so good."

"Yeah, it is kind of strange…gimme the phone, will ya? I want to call Ivyna."

"Why?"

"Shhhhh—hiya! Is Ivyna there? Uh-huh, I’ll wait…Tarantulas? Where’s Ivyna? Oh. Alright. Well, tell her I called. Hey, you guys wanna come over tonight? We’re having porkpine roast with dressing."

"We are?"

"Hush! And, yes, we are…as soon as you go catch one. Shoo. Oh, sorry, Tarry. Yeah, sounds good, doesn’t it? Can you tell Ivyna I—she is? Great…hiya, Ivyna! Did Tarantulas tell you about—really? That’s too bad…honestly, these things taste better than they sound. Can you tell Tarantulas to come by around—whaddya mean he’s not coming? He just said he was!...toothache? That was quick. I was just talking to him, and it didn’t SOUND like he had a toothache. Hey, I’ve got a home remedy for toothaches right in this cookbook!…uh-huh, same cookbook as the porkpine thing…hold on a second…okay, do you have 20 grains of pure opium lying around the house?…hello? Hello? How RUDE."

"Cross porkpine roasts with dressing off of the ‘Things To Cook Again’ list. Ugh!"

"Have you noticed that you’ve stopped jogging laps around the kitchen between stirring the stew? I think you’re running out of energy."

"There’s only three can of Cherry Pepsi left!"

"That’s what I just SAID."

"I might as well drink them all now, then…How’s this taste?"

"Don’t get that spoon near m—HOT! Hot hot hot! ARGH! Water! Water! *glugglugglug* Ahhhh…"

"Oh, don’t be such a pansy. How’s it taste?"

"Not bad once it burned the taste buds off my tongue."

"Sarcasm will get you everywhere."

"Hey! This stuff is great!"

"Mmzzzrrmph."

"LD?"

"Zzzz…"

"Lady Dementia! C’mon, it took you all week to make this stuff; you should at least try it!"

"…zzzIronhide?"

"I think that’s a carrot. This bit might have been him at some point, though."

I regained consciousness the following Monday, but I claimed to have no memory of the previous week. Rampage smelled faintly like skunk still, which he tried to use for proof when he was blaming me for everything that had befallen him, but I said that I didn’t believe him. Quite honestly, I’m not sure that I believe anything he said I did that week. Dancing, yes…but on the ceiling?!

The elephant stew story he told me did make me break out in giggles, though, and he still gets mad whenever I call him ‘Darth Rampage.’ Who knows? Maybe the Force was strong that week, and impossible things really did happen.

I can’t think of any other way to explain the elephant tusks on the table…

Back to Lady D. Fanfiction Index