Behind her, Kyp Durron sneezed, then asked, "What do you think?" After several dozen terrifying hours zipped tight in his EV suit because of a vacuum leak in his cracked canopy, he was by far the worst-smelling of the survivors.
Let it be known that this "worst-smelling" achievement had some hefty competition. Observe, dear reader--
To Cilghal's sensitive nostrils, the foamy fungus eating away the scorched metal of the surviving X-wings smelled almost as foul as the soiled flight suits of the eight exhausted pilots themselves.
SOILED HA HA. And of course--
Kyp shook his head and wiped his nose on the cuff of his flight suit.
Such epic snot action can only flourish when given to the tender mercies of a REALLY LARGE STASH OF CRACK. And how it flourishes! like a delicate desert bloom when showered with the morning dews of a Jedi Master's most reverend mucus. And because we would never withhold such things as these--
Dressed in a threadbare cape and tunic, wearing his brown hair long and shaggy, Kyp looked as though he had just come in from a long mission. He always looked like that.
Oh, Mssr Denning! How you spoil us with your generous offerings of ill-kept Jedi Masters! We can do nothing but praise your most holy wisdom, and hope for nothing less than stiff and crusty sleeves in the future.
I. AND NOW FOR AN EDUCATIONAL VIDEO!
II. OR ENLIGHTEN THYSELF FROM WHENCE IT CAME
III. TROY DENNING KILLED ME AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS THONG
IV. KRIFF THIS SITE