Alright, I’m going to jump ahead here real fast and answer the nagging, insistent, and fucking let it go already question: “Clyde, where were you during Order 66?”. Along with that, I also get: “Did you kill Jedi’s? Did you murder any children? How can you just blindly follow orders like that?”. First off, yes, I did murder children. Just not that day. Although they are easy pickin’s, they fall hella funny when you blast’em.
On the day in question, as some of you may already know, the little bitty microchips the Sith had managed to implant in all of Clones were activated and we all felt an undeniable impulse to kill all the Jedi at the behest of the Emperor Pederast. I have a lot of issues with this. First off, there are two Sith, right? Two. How in far, far, awaysville do they ever manage these fucking conspiracies? They took a clone program they didn’t know about, usurped it after stumbling onto it some? how? and then managed to develop, program, and mass produce a computer chip that, without any testing, is not only safe for human implantation (unless they changed our genome to be more compatible with the chip), but is also 100% effective at manipulating the thoughts of clones that are ALREADY genetically modified to be loyal and unquestioning!? How is that even a thing? Ok, so that was like all the things, but you get my point.
There I am, on Couriscant with the rest of the 501st, when all of a sudden our chips go off. All at once, everybody else but me just stands up, all clanker like and shit, and there I’m sitting and someones talking to me.
But sexier.
“ST-058, Execute order 66. Exit your barracks and join your unit and proceed to the Jedi Temple for mission execution.” I look around and I’m all alone. I figure, well Clyde, this is it, its butterfly net time. Might as well go the full Yoda and answer the disembodied voice.
“I’m good. Gonna just sit here, have a fap, I guess”. But it JUST KEPT DRONING ON!
“ST-058, Execute order 66. Exit your barracks and join your unit and proceed to the Jedi Temple for mission execution.” It was kinda a sexy voice tho,very polite, and it did mention killing. I figured “What the fuck”, grabbed my Flechette shotgun and was about to head out the door when I noticed my good buddy Boba Chef (pre chef, mind you) just sitting there, perusing a holocron or some shit. Do we have books in this galaxy? I’m still not sure, everything is some kinda holo bullshit, its myopia inducing.
“YO, Boba, you gonna do what the voice says or what? He looks at me like I’m just a bag of hammers in a Clone suit.
“What the fuck are you talking about man?”
“You don’t hear that voice telling you to go kill all the jedi?” I asked him. “I mean, everyone else is doing it. Don’t think its weird that all the guys just got up at once, walked out?”
“Well” He replied. “Normally, the weird thing would be you kipping off about some voice in your head telling you to kill people. But since you randomly kill so many people offhandedly as is, I kind assumed that was going on anyway. And the guys get up and do stuff all together all at once all the time. Kinda a clone army thing. And no, no voice. I’m unmodified, remember? But, a jedi killed my dad, so, sure, I guess. This holocron is dicks anyway. Lets go.”
Boba grabbed his blaster and arm in arm we skipped out the door to catch up with the rest of the 501st. Long story short, after marching through the all the streets of Couriscan, seriously, we have all the damn hover fucking cars, starships, larties, I MEAN HAVE YOU SEEN THE SKIES OVER COURISCANT?!?!?!, and we’re walking!, we get to the Jedi temple. Spoiler alert, some of this empire shit ain’t quite worth it. Go where the free killing is boys and girls. We get there, and of course, Anakin Fucking Skywalker is there. I hate that guy. He’s a total soppy swatch of Twi’lick (see what I did there?).
Anakin, Noun. Definition: Twat.
Out of nowhere he’s calling himself “Darth Vader”, his eyes are orange, I figure he’s either five minutes from an early death by liver disease he’s so damned jaundiced and loopy, and orders us all inside with him at the fore.
Now, Despite the Darth Vader bit, I have to say, we were pretty jazzed up about the whole thing. Here we are, the most bad ass, galaxy conquering, shiny white army time and space have ever seen, marching into the den of the most badass wizards to have ever existed for a blast down, dick out fight for the fate of the galaxy. It was fucking awesome. You know in that movie you all saw about this exact thing I’m talking about how when we all marched into the Jedi Temple the Imperial March was playing? Yeah, that wasn’t a soundtrack. That was us. Clones have mad Accapella skills so, you don’t even know.
BwaaaBwaaaBwaaaaBwaBwaBwaBwaBwaBWAAAAAA!
“Vapid” tells everybody to spread out and start killing people, which is easy at first since the Jedi certainly weren't expecting their loyal clones to go all “Order 66” on them as they call it nowadays and most of them were walking around unarmed. Not like Jedi need to be armed, I mean they’re fucking magic, but I can only assume they’re kinda bad at the magic bit all deaths considered. I mean, numbers aside, we really shouldn’t have walked out of there at all considering they can crush your all of you with their minds and shit. So, good news I guess. Point is, “Vaginer” says he’s gonna go upstairs and take care of a small problem. I was curious as to what this all powerful dingus of the Sith thought was so important that he would pass up all this madness, so I followed him.
I really wish I hadn’t. Mostly because It was the most glorious arson party I’d ever been invited to that I hadn’t gotten myself thrown out of for being so good at arson. Columns and shit were exploding and falling all over the place, Cornered Jedi running in packs, charging mindlessly towards clusters of clones, not giving a fuck if thermal detonators got stuck to them and just fucking exploding all the everyone all over the place. I have never seen so many curtain fires in my life. Not that It also required the place to have more curtains than I’d ever seen in my life, but I digress. I get up to where the Masturbator of the Sith is going and it turns out the whole thing is just one horrible murderpun. Ding nozzle musta picked up that bad habit from Obi-Wan’s school teacher ass. I have no idea how Commander Cody ever out up with his shit. This small problem is all the younglings. Fucking snot nosed little gaggle of kidnapped child soldiers is what the Dork Lord thinks is so important. Shit is such a taintwreck. I mean, sure, killing kids is great, but its the icing on the cake. Kinda like how you pick a girl because of how awesome she is. Her being into anal is the frosting on the cloner, not the reason to bone her.
Little fucker just walks up to him “Master Skywalker, theres too many of them, what are we going to do?” and dipstick just starts cutting all their bowl cut little heads off. With a vengeance too. I don’t get it. Dude was gonna be a dad soon. It was like, how some of you people complain that two dudes getting married will ruin the specialness of your marriage, he was killing younglings like they were making his kids less special. That was it. Donezo, out. I just, stood there for a bit, watched him work, he was killing little breedspwans after all, still fun, but I just up and left. Went outside to a nearby landing pad and popped a squat to be alone with meh clone thoughts. I found Boba sitting there already. Poor guy musta had a snap too I suppose.
“Hey budba” I says to him. “How ya doin’?” He doesn’t look up.
“I dunno man, This whole thing. Bad fucking idea man.” Yeah.
“Yeah, I hear ya buddy, not exactly what I expected.” He finally looks at me.
“I’m getting out, I’m gonna do something else, maybe get into bounty hunting like my dad. Maybe take up cooking. I’ve kinda always wanted to be a chef, actually.” Made sense to me. I just nodded. A fancy, opened top speeder pulls up and Lo and Behold, his high and mighty sexiness, Senator Bail Organa pulls up. Bad timing, but there is something about Alderrainans that really get the blood pumping straight into my little trooper. Men, women, even their mynocks, just sexy as shit. Bail, no small exception.
Grrrrrrrrrth.
For some reason, some Gung ho Johnny come Trooplately pulls a blaster on him! Tells him to fuck off! I mean, I’m at half chub, rude. Suddenly, out of nowhere, some teeny bopper Jedi flies out and starts hacking these troopers right to the short and clonies. Obviously Bail freaks right the fuck out. This wasn’t exactly a “let people in on it” kind of operation so a sabershocked clone stats blasting away at Bail. Almost kills senator Organa, right in front of me, it was hella sad! Thankfully that speeder got him free and clear, but not before something snapped in old Clyde. I was pissed. Kill. Must. Do. Go. I got up. Walked back inside. Fighting.
Let me preface this last bit by saying that there is a reason I grabbed my flechette blaster shotgun instead of my standard issue blaster. You may have noticed that Jedi are really good at blocking and deflecting blaster shots. Easy way to get dead. Not a fan. Know what jedi can’t block so good? All the blaster bolts. You draw on his ass, he gets all “pose for style”, this he got this clone thing in the bag (hehe, clone thing, bag, in). Then BLAM! No more jedi. Or more Jedi depending how you look at the data. For the rest, I’ll let the Douche bag of the Sith tell it like it was. On the record brah, I’m bad ass.
Record of Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader. Subject: Knightfall.
The battle for the temple was coming to a close. I had returned to the main concourse from my task of securing the antechambers to find a young jedi giving a large group of troopers a significant amount of stubborn resistance. Knight Pal Jerrood. Not powerful, but extremely focused and adept at deflection and defensive saber techniques. Very elegant and flowing form. Despite the large volume of fire directed from a position of total encirclement, Knight Jerrood was untouched. He was deep in a trance reciting a jedi focus mantra. I was striding towards the fray to put and end to his destructive resistance. I could hear him over the din of blaster fire.
“Fear leads to anger, Anger leads to hate, Hate leads to…” It was broken by the screaming voice of a clone approaching from my right.
“CLONE!” A blaster shotgun was discharged into Jerroods left thigh. He went down to his knees, lashed out with his saber, catching the clone in the visor, which cracked, exposing the clones bloodshot, wrathsome eye.
“TROOPER!” A second blast took Jerrood’s saber arm to the molecular realm. The trooper stood over his victim, the barrel of his blaster leveled directly at his face.
“CLYDE!” A final blast ended both the jedi and the spectacle. Clone Trooper Clyde. Someone will be held accountable for letting that insane menace onto my unit. I had thought him dead. He walked off and I let him. Another time. Trooper RX-2482 asked me if I would like the fugitive trooper apprehended. I told him no. I didn’t want any part of that hot mess.
You hear that ladies? Insane? Hot mess?
I’m on the market, price reduced.
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