IG-88 was full tilt on his revenge, so long he had planned for this day, all would soon know the wrath of a war droid scorned.
The dumplings, IG-88 knew, would cause fatally explosive diarrhea across the galaxy, leaving only the robots, and he the ultimate leader.
Sadly, being only a robot he needed to find a new powersource as his energy supply was nearly tapped out.
Luckily, according to Fodors, he was near the world's largest potato; so he travelled there to plug into it and refuel.
It had fattened itself off the Mr. Potatohead lawsuits, building an army of plastic mustache wielding Potato thralls.
IG-88 suddenly appeared then in full battle array the droid could move like a ninja on meth, lasers filled the air as he came on and he sang this song as death beams flared from him...
" I'm an assassin droid, I'm a double pumping laser blaster comin' for you
I'm the bounty hunter, I'll be Rock'Em Sock'Em robot on you
Keep slipping through star systems, you're squawking like Salacious Crumb, unlike Fett I'm gonna catch ya if you run
And I'm busting out my plans for the Death Star
Keepin my 'lectric eye on you..."
Was Darth Tater's last word as IG-88 blasters blew him to bits.
IG-88, tired of the lagging plot, blew his own head off as well.
His suicide triggered his self destruction back-up system, which exploded the planet and torn a black hole in space sucking the entire solar system into the void of nonexistance.
And this just in, the Sith apprentice convention has just opened on Nar Shaddaa.
Everyone waited in line to get a look at the Emperor's newest apprentice.
However, Darth Floyd wasn't feeling well,he stayed back at the hotel.
"You better run like hell!" Dark Floyd intoned to the toupeed and girdled former Captain on the Enterprise.
IG-88b suddenly appeared and dispatched Kirk from behind,severing his head and mid torso with a laser whip.
Then, Denny Craig hit him with a wrongful death suit.
Conan killed everyone.
Because when I said "killed everyone" I forgot to mention that Conan NEVER kills the serving wenches.
So there they sat, Conan, Kirk's head and two buckets of ale.
By Crom's furled brow! where did this ale come from?wondered Conan, Kirk head said nothing.
Kirk's head mused, "Conan, so how are we going to pay for this little mess you got us into... again."
"Your fingers smell like Red Sonja's ass, by the way," quipped Kirk.
Unknown to Kirk, Mike McArtur had approached them behind in utter silence, clad tightly in black Lycra and sporting a pink origami duck hat as was the tradition in the McArtur clan.
"Nice hat," Conan said.
Then he threw Kirk head at Mike McArtur.
Mike cried out in pain as Kirk's head swung from his groin.
. . . and thunder rolled in the distance.
Octopalegic octopi intoned sonorously as Vin Diesel did bench presses with E.G.G.'s coffin, silhouetted by the setting sun.
Royalties.