Today I want to tell you a story about something that happened to my brother the 18th and I soon after we moved into our little country houses. Sorry for no pictures, but I didn't have a camera back then.
Years ago I moved North to be near my brother and I bought a small house. Little did I know that everything would start to change and get a little weird. Soon, I took up gardening and started growing my own oatmeal. I also took up the art of building cars.
One morning I was sitting in my yard on my twisty, bendy, fun chair with my glass of oatmeal in my hand and I thought to myself, “Why am I living here in this tiny house? I've got enough money to buy any house in the world!”
I got up and went to my computer and found the perfect place for me to live. I found a large piece of land with nothing on it but some grass and a few rocks. I went to see the place for myself and when I saw it I instantly fell in love with it. I knew right then and there that this was where I was going to live.
The next day I talked to my brother to tell him that I was planning to move and as soon as I told him he broke down in tears.
“What’s the matter, George?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “if you're moving, then we won’t be able to see each other everyday.”
“Why don’t you move with me? There’s a another property for sale next door.”
And the next thing you know we were building our houses. Both our houses ended up being, well, rather extravagant. We both loved our new houses so much. Then that awful day came. The day we were kidnapped and our houses taken over by strangers.
Odd as it may sound, our kidnappers turned out to be a couple of doctors (weird, right?). They turned our houses into hospitals for none other than Star Wars people! Apparently they were in the middle of some sort of battle.
They took me and tied me up with a chain to a chair and surrounded me with a cage of lightsabers! It was the most horrifying experience of my life! All day and all night the constant hum of the lightsabers with their glowing blades surrounding me in every direction. And apparently the doctors that took over my brothers house did the same thing to him!
These doctors kept us tied up like that because they thought they could cure us of our supposed illness (AKA our dislike of Star Wars). Still don't understand the logic behind that.
While I was captured I learned that the two doctors at my hospital were called Mom and Dad and they had two kids. The freckle faced kid with the scruffy hair’s name was Henry, but his mother always called him “Heeeenryyyyyy!” for some reason. The other kid with the brown hair’s name was Joseph, but Mom always called him “Jooooseeeeeph!”. If you ask me, I think they needed to be in the hospital more than me.
The hospital soon became home to all of the Star Wars people instead of just a hospital. The Jedi had their own room and always seemed to be plotting something. Then there was Qui-Gon Ginn. He came in one day with both of his wrists broken, his head was falling off, and so were his legs! The doctors were about to operate on him when a clone came in with a cut on his hand. They just left Qui-Gon so they could care for the clone.
“What about me?” Qui-Gon shouted.
“We’ll get back to you in a minute.” Mom said, “This man needs desperate medical help!”
To this day no one’s helped Qui-Gon. I almost feel bad for him. Almost.
* * *
Months Later, my brother and I somehow escaped our imprisonment and got a hold of our speeders (we were the one’s who designed the speeders used in Star Wars for our first brother) and met in the woods. We devised a plan to attack our enemy. We were all set to attack the Star Wars People and the hospital family when we saw all the Star Wars people, both good and bad, lined up ready to fight us.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Ready,” George replied. “But that’s a lot of Star Wars people. Both the good and the bad are teamed up. We might not come out alive.”
“Of course we’ll come out alive.” I said.
“Maybe.”
“Yes we will!” I shouted at him.
“No!”
“Yes!”
And we started fighting each other. We never even got near our enemies because we started shooting at each other. By the time we stopped fighting the Star Wars people had moved out and the hospital family had moved into an R.V. and gone to see America. We got our houses back and once again everything was peaceful.
