Palpitine closed his eyes and checked his urge to force-strangle the man. Not yet. Not in public.
“So… the Imperial Senate has decided it wants to cancel the death star construction program?”
The terrified man nodded so briefly it was barely noticeable.
“They, uh, feel that its, uh, not justified, given that the, uh, war is, uh, over”, the man stuttered. “They want to divert funds to reconstruction work”
Palpitine closed his eyes.
“Right. Fine then. Excellent”. He turned to his military aide “Draw up plans to disband the Senate in the event of an emergency –arrange it so that when, sorry, if, I order, Imperial Governors and Starfleet can rule directly. Something like that. And…” he narrowed his eyes, drumming his fingers on the throne.
He smiled. “We’ll just call it ‘heavy construction equipment’ and it’ll come out of a different budget – it’ll even be part of the Imperial Reconstruction program. Not part of military procurement at all.”
Dismissing the cowering underling, he turned to his aide “Contact the Vogon ambassador – we might need some examples to the Senate procurement committee, stuff about the economic benefits of Hyperspace lanes. But no poetry!“
He paused. “Actually, no. Its to the Procurement Committee. Tell him...
Tell him they love poetry.”
“I am Voldemort” triumphantly proclaimed the dark wizard to the assembled mages.
Ridcully scratched his nose. “Is that supposed to be impressive? I mean, your name is Klatchian for ‘death of voles’. Its hard to be scared of someone who calls himself ‘death of voles’”
Ponder interrupted; “actually sir I believe the correct translation would be ‘vole of death’”
Ignoring Ponder, Ridcully pressed on, “Regardless, its not something that scares the natives. I mean, if you want to see something scary, you should watch the Dean eat”
"First, Sorceress, I'm going to insert these crystal balls into you." gloated Skeletor. "Then you'll be well and truly f*cked."
- from Fifty Shades of Grayskull, by Evil-Lyn James
The witches paused, taken aback by Macbeths question.
Impatiently Macbeth asked again. "Look you said 'Unitil Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane' - does this mean that Ents will be involved? Its kind of important."
“Easy luv”, Spike leered at Buffy & the gang blocking his exit from the room. “You sure you want to spend time chasing after me, when my boy is out there?”
“Pretty sure, Spike. We’ll deal with you, and then we’ll deal with your pal.”
“Well, that’s the thing isn’t it. We could waste time trying to get me. And I say trying, cos I’m pretty confident that I can kill most of you – but haven’t you worked out what he’s doing?”
Xander shouted with more bravura then he felt “Why shouldn’t we bother chasing you then, you.. you…” he paused momentarily lost “You… evil... creature of the night” he finished lamely.
Willow piped up “I mean, we know your guy is a necromancer, but he’s nowhere near any graves or cemeteries”
“Well then, the brainbox speaks”. Spike kept circling around trying to get to the window.
“Here’s a hint, luv, the guys & I got to watching Jurassic Park yesterday. Bloody impressive if you ask me – none of those stop motion effects from the 60’s. Does that help?”
Giles frowned, realising where this was heading.
Xander blinked, confused. “He’s going to resurrect Ray Harryhausen? But he’s not dead!”
Spike paused, momentarily non-plussed. “He’s going to Sunnydale natural history museum because you need is a link to the body – or bodies in this case. You can only stop one of us, I’d say. So, either me, or the man whose about to create a herd of undead T-Rexes and diplo… dip.. bloody large arsed long necked beasties”
He lit a cigarette and judged the distance to the window, just in case. “Your call, Slayer”
"Go to MIR-sector. Save our people."
A final time, he lifted his head and spoke.
"My brother. My captain. My king."
His head sank back against the rough-trod earth, and he whispered his last.
"And remember ... the Computer ... is your ... friend."
-- from "The Death of Bor-O-MIR", trad.