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The Skywalker Diamonds Consolidated Secret Headquarters That Everyone Still Knows About

[OOC: The part of Anakin Skywalker, which had been previously played by LL Cool J is now back to being Hayden Christensen because the contract negotiations have been sorted out. There was much fan rejoicing.]

Anakin was pacing around his opulent office, filled with various pictures of his family members, extremely rare and stealable art, and expensive swords just to show how Dangerous his family was in case the lighting in the room didn't give it away as well.

"We must crush the Winchesters!" he yelled, pounding his fist into his desk. "They must not be allowed to skulk through Fandom any longer with their righteousness and arrogance and irritating ability to keep shooting me!"

Anakin enjoyed monologing. His door was closed and guarded by two armed goons, but let's be real: that had never stopped drama from getting to the patriarch of the Skywalker clan.

[OOC: Open for all of your blackmail, attempted assassinations, and secret family revelations!]

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Jeffy Maroe, ex-star running back and recent paraplegic, burst into Anakin's office in his wheelchair. "SKYWALKER!" he snarled. "This is your fault! I know you're the one behind my tragic boating accident! I'll never walk again, and now the football team won't make the playoffs! I'll..." He looked at the two armed goons, and decided to hold off from making outright threats. "You haven't heard the last of me."

Jeffy didn't actually know who was behind the accident, but blaming random people was more interesting than dealing with it rationally. He started sobbing. "Oh, I'm so broken!"

"Then it won't hurt much when my boys take you down to the docks and smack you around some more," Anakin said in a New York accent he hadn't had before.

"No, that would definitely hurt," Jeffy told him. "I wouldn't like that at all! Just like you're not going to like it when my goons take you down to the docks and smack you around some more! Just you wait!"

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "You have goons."

"Being the star running back -- ex-star running back -- has it's advantages," Jeffy answered. He snapped his fingers, and three of the Fandom Gremlins football team's benchwarmers stormed in, in full uniform and carrying crowbars. See, Anakin? You had TWO goons, and Jeffy had THREE. His three didn't have guns, though.

"I think I've made my point."

"Three is more than two, but no guns isn't as good as having guns?" Anakin offered. "Kill them."

Off-screen, naturally.

Jeffy glared at Anakin for a long time, as the poor players were led off to die. It was a good thing their helmets shielded their faces from view, so the same actors could play Jeffy's new goons later on.

"Fine, then," he growled. "This just means I can keep the PlayStation that Timmy lent me. I hope you've got a good explanation you can give to their mothers."

"I'm Anakin Skywalker," Anakin said. "That's enough."

"You won't be for long," Jeffy muttered, so that the audience could hear him but Anakin couldn't. He spun his wheelchair around and headed for the door. "All right, then. We're done here."

"I come bearing an urgent message from the Werewolf Don, Derek Hale," James said as he skidded into the secret headquarters. He had left the mansion mere minutes ago with a small stop at the strip club on the way what of it? "I demand to speak with Anakin Skywalker!"

Anakin looked bored. "Well if he can send a flunky with terrible eyebrows to find me, he knows where I am," he said. "I'm not stupid enough to meet people out in the open where they can shoot me."

Every year. EVERY YEAR.

"Hey, these eyebrows are indicative of my werewolf heritage," James said. "Anyway, Don Hale says... your time has come. And he also wanted me to give you a gift DON'T WORRY IT'S NOT GOING TO EXPLODE. BRB, it's waiting outside."

PEW, he was gone.

Anakin watched him go. "Well that doesn't sound ominous at all," he said, taking cover behind his desk.

Special effects had to take place off-screen until sweeps.

James ran back in carrying a large sack that had no blood stains. That was an important goof, of course, because there was a horse's head in the sack. And now it was on Anakin's desk.

"I hope you appreciate that, because it's not like there are even a lot of horses around here and they're heavy as crap."

"That is gross," Anakin said, "and these blood stains will take forever to get out of my carpet!"

Or not, since the props department had forgotten the blood.

"Well, if you have that long. Because remember..." James said. He zoomed away a second time and let his final words echo through the mine. "Your time has come."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Anakin grumbled, rolling his eyes. "They all say that."

Eleanor Skywalker sailed into the room as if she owned it. She didn't, of course. But some day she would.

She was beginning to despair of that, actually, considering how many Skywalkers there were, and how greedy the rest of them were about money that was seriously supposed to be hers, because she wanted it the most. Of course, she was sure some kind of tragic fire could be whipped up, in a pinch.

In the meantime, she was going to look fabulous and continue to be the world's youngest haute couture designer, recently ~~cast~~ graduated from a very elite Swiss boarding school.

"Europe was dull," she said. "Give my love to the family. What have the Winchesters done this time?"

From her seat in Eleanor's purse, Lady Miss Mirabelle Pfefferton III (http://imgur.com/60NfgS2.jpg) yipped her agreement. Teacup chihuahuas in purses were so 2004, but that had made them come around to being in again. And Eleanor knew what was in.

Edited 2014-02-08 20:02 (UTC)

"Oh, what haven't they done?" Anakin said. "They ruined Luke's chances in the US Senate and even though I have disowned him, he's still a Skywalker, despite not getting a dime of the mine money or that cosmetics thing Jaina is doing now."

"Luke's out of the Senate race?" Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've missed all the fun."

She was rather happy to be reassured that Luke was out of Anakin's will. One down.

"You know, now that I'm a world-celebrated fashion designer, perhaps Jaina and I should work together," she mused. "She could do the cosmetics for my next runway show."

Yes, she was insinuating that Jaina would be working on one of her projects. Of course it was a competition. Everything was.

Edited 2014-02-08 20:43 (UTC)

Well, they wouldn't be Skywalkers if they weren't backstabbing each other.

"You should ask her," Anakin said. "Maybe design her next wedding dress."

Because there was always a next wedding dress with Jaina.

"That would be wonderful," Eleanor beamed. "I could make her look stunning."

Backhanded compliments were a favorite of hers. Plus she'd leave some pins in the dress so they'd poke Jaina all through the ceremony.

"So what's the grand plan for offing the Winchesters?" she asked. "You know that I'll help however I can. I'm entirely at your disposal."

Sucking up to the patriarch seemed like a good way to start.

"Kidnap Grace and make it look like the werewolves did it," Anakin decided. "Kill two problems at once."

Eleanor threw her head back and laughed. "Marvelous," she said. "They'll start a clan war and we'll sit back and mine diamonds and laugh."

In the end, they would win. Which meant she would win. You know, after that accidental fire.

"We could smear her blood on some trees, in the preserve," she mused. "Make it look like they ripped her to pieces."

"I like it," Anakin said, rubbing his hands together to show how fiendish and devious he was. "Just check with Jaina so it doesn't ruin her wedding pictures, okay?"

"Of course," Eleanor lied. Please. Jaina was gonna be covered in blood smears. "Who's going to be handling the actual kidnapping?"

She wasn't one to get her hands dirty. And she wasn't entirely sure where to find Grace, which would probably make her look bad.

Anakin waved to the front office. "Take five of the goons."

Wonderful. She'd pull off this kidnapping and look impressive and snub Jaina right at her wedding.

Now, if she could only figure out how to actually find Grace.

Details.

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