Once more I would like to refer back to a statement I made not too long ago, said statement involved the use of Doctor Mundo's Law.
Steph Zenima. Goes. Where. She. Pleases.
The most stupid person in the entire galaxy found herself inexplicably deep in Sith space. How had this happened? Yes, Mundo's Law, you're catching on. Hold on! You cry, throwing your Palpatine plushie across the room in despair. She's with the Republic, she can't just be on one of OUR PLANETS! Well firstly, you need to calm down right now, mister and secondly, have you met Steph Zenima? What's she going to do by herself to your precious property? Transform into a giant nuke?
MAYBE. SUCKER.
Probably not, though.
She sat on the floor of the most generic cantina to ever grace fiction, wondering how did she end up here? Where was her hammer? Whose underwear was she wearing? Had she fallen over...? Or. Thin cracked lips peeled upwards to reveal the rotten carnivorous teeth of Havoc Squad's liability. HAD SHE BEEN PUSHED?
The woman scrambled to her feet and grabbed the collar of the nearest person, who happened to be a hapless Rodian just making his way to the little reptile's room.
He objected. Unfortunately for him in Rodese.
“AH DAH SPEAK NO ALIEN, MATE!”
The woman crashed her forehead into Mr. Misfortune's snout, not once, not twice, not even thrice. Actually, she kept crashing her impossibly hard skull into his face more times than she could count...which, admittedly could have been anywhere between eight and infinity.
WHO COULD STOP SUCH VIOLENCE?!
@[member="Elizabeth Sunrider"]
Steph Zenima. Goes. Where. She. Pleases.
The most stupid person in the entire galaxy found herself inexplicably deep in Sith space. How had this happened? Yes, Mundo's Law, you're catching on. Hold on! You cry, throwing your Palpatine plushie across the room in despair. She's with the Republic, she can't just be on one of OUR PLANETS! Well firstly, you need to calm down right now, mister and secondly, have you met Steph Zenima? What's she going to do by herself to your precious property? Transform into a giant nuke?
MAYBE. SUCKER.
Probably not, though.
She sat on the floor of the most generic cantina to ever grace fiction, wondering how did she end up here? Where was her hammer? Whose underwear was she wearing? Had she fallen over...? Or. Thin cracked lips peeled upwards to reveal the rotten carnivorous teeth of Havoc Squad's liability. HAD SHE BEEN PUSHED?
The woman scrambled to her feet and grabbed the collar of the nearest person, who happened to be a hapless Rodian just making his way to the little reptile's room.
He objected. Unfortunately for him in Rodese.
“AH DAH SPEAK NO ALIEN, MATE!”
The woman crashed her forehead into Mr. Misfortune's snout, not once, not twice, not even thrice. Actually, she kept crashing her impossibly hard skull into his face more times than she could count...which, admittedly could have been anywhere between eight and infinity.
WHO COULD STOP SUCH VIOLENCE?!
@[member="Elizabeth Sunrider"]