Story Challenge #3: 16th September 2003
Use the word "antidisestablishmentarianism" in your story; time limit of fifteen minutes.

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia
(Fear of Big Words)
A 15-minute ficlet by Morgan D.

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"I was supposed to help escort the group of rookies to the base, that's all!" Luke huffed. "When we get to the point of bringing them over here, shouldn't it mean they're already sure they want to join?"

"Isn't that the strangest thing to ask me?" Han muttered at the kid who after only a few months with the Rebels already felt comfortable enough to call others rookies. "Have I ever volunteered to join? Didn't I end up stranded here all the same?"

"You're different."

"Yeah, yeah, so convenient for you all that I am. Hand me the dehydroplier, will you?"

Luke fumbled inside the battered toolbox, wrinkling his nose at the greasy state of its contents. "Wish you had come along."

"You were away for only four days, kid. You can't have missed me that much." Han tried not to think much of the fact that he had actually counted the days Luke had been gone. It didn't mean much, did it? Certainly he had just missed having a funnily gullible target for his mock-flirtatious assaults. Without the blond around, his best option had been the Princess, whose scowling tended to somewhat spoil the effect of her blushing.

In other words, Han had been a bit bored. Certainly there was nothing else to it.

"That's not what I meant," Luke mumbled, his cheeks predictably flushing, his brow predictably not frowning. "I wish you had been there to talk to those guys."

"To convince them to join your precious Rebellion? Oh sure, I'm exactly the one you'd want for that job. The dehydroplier, please?"

"At least you'd have understood what they were talking about," Luke shrugged. "It's not here."

"Well, look around, I can't lie here holding this wire for the rest of eternity. It must be somewhere."

With an impatient — and rather childish — sigh, the younger man got on his feet and started a moody search for the missing tool. "I really don't get them. What difference does it make what we call ourselves? The important thing is what we're fighting for, right?"

The Corellian grunted something, only half-listening. The wire was hot, and threatened to make a hole through his glove.

"That's what I told them," Luke ranted on. "We could call ourselves the Purple Fluffy Mynock Army for all that I care. As long as we're battling against the Empire... But then they gave me that look, you know? That look that says, 'You're only an ignorant soldier, so of course you'd think that way'. They wouldn't have looked at you like that."

"Probably because I'd die before being drafted to anything called the Purple Fluffy Mynock Army," Han snorted. "Hurry up, will ya? I'm rather attached to this finger, I'd hate to lose it."

"Ah, there it is," Luke announced cheerfully. "Under the leftovers of your lunch... eurgh!... from last week?"

"Would you like to smell my cauterised finger when it falls off?"

"Alright, alright, hold your banthas, I'm coming!" Luke laughed, apparently not at all impressed with Han's penchant for drama. "Here."

"Thanks," Han muttered, putting the dirty tool to work. "Now tell me what those educated rookies of yours were saying that short-circuited your ignorant soldier's mind."

"They said they'd feel more comfortable if the Rebel Alliance were still known as a group of Antistab... Antidissab..."

"Antidisestablishmentarianists."

Luke's eyes widened. "I really wish you had been there."

"Don't worry, kid. Except for knowing how to spell, they weren't any less ignorant than you are."

"Thanks. I think." The young man arched an eyebrow. "Are you going to eventually tell me what the word means?"

"Just take it in small parts. The Old Republic was the establishment. So the establishmentarianists were...?"

"Hmm... the Republicans?"

"See? You're not so bad," Han smirked. "Now the disestablishmentarianists would be...?"

"The Imperials."

"Good."

"So the Rebels are... an-ti-dis-es-tab-lish-men-ta-rian-ists."

"You've got it."

"Why would they feel more comfortable being called that?" Luke marvelled.

"Just a matter of image. When the first voices protesting against the way the Emperor conducts his business started popping up, the opposition press called them voices of the Antidisestablishmentarianism. That makes it sound like an organised group of civilised people defending the principles they believe in. But to the official press, they were nothing but rebels."

"So people would think of us as just a bunch of deranged criminals..."

"Exactly. And since the opposing press has been either persuaded into silence or shot dead..." Han shrugged. "That's where your rookies are revealed to be just a lot of snobbish oafs. It's not really a matter of choice now. I'm sure Her Worshipfulness would love to flaunt a name like the Antidisestablishmentarianist Fleet around; thankfully, the matter is out of her hands."

Luke smirked. "Of course, it goes better with your reputation to be called a Rebel than an Antidisestablishmentarianist."

"And a lot better than being called a Purple Fluffy Mynock too," Han agreed, for once not bothering to correct the kid about his status as not an official member of the Alliance. "On the other hand, if you think about it... It's really a shame the name was changed."

"You think so?"

"Hell, yeah. Think of how long it would take for an Imperial watchman say, 'Hey! There goes an Antidisestablishmentarianist ship!' It would be more than enough to turn around and make the jump to lightspeed."

"Even if you had to fix the hyperdrive first?"

"No sweat. It would be enough to fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, turn around and make the jump."

"Enough to fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, eat a choco bar, turn around and make the jump?"

"Enough to fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, eat a choco bar, go to the loo, turn around and make the jump."

"Ahem. Fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, eat a choco bar, go to the loo, wash your hands, turn around and make the jump."

"You're such a sissy," Han rolled his eyes. "Fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, eat choco, go to the loo, wash my hands, dry them in perfumed paper towels, turn around and make the jump."

"You don't have perfumed paper towels in the Falcon," Luke pointed out. "However... fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, eat choco, go to the loo, wash your hands, dry them in rough cloth towels, change into a satin bathrobe, turn around and make the jump."

"That bathrobe isn't mine!" Han protested.

"It's a bit small for Chewie..."

"It's Lando's."

"Who?"

"The guy who owned the Falcon before me. Another sissy, if you ask me. So I'll fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, eat choco, go to the loo, wash my hands, dry them with... whatever, change into the blasted satin bathrobe, rip said bathrobe to shreds, turn around and make the jump."

"That might give us a little more time," Luke grinned. "If the Imperial watchman says, 'Hey! There goes a naked Antidisestablishmentarianist piloting an Antidisestablishmentarianist ship!'"

"And what would you like to do with the extra time?" Han asked slyly.

Luke blushed. Furiously. "Fix the hyperdrive, have a cup of kaff, eat choco, go to the loo, wash hands, dry them, change into..." He bit his lip, took a deep breath. "See you change into the satin bathrobe, rip your bathrobe to shreds..." If he blushed just a little more, smoke would come out of his ears. "...and have a heated argument with you about who turns around and who makes the jump."

Han almost swallowed his tongue. He was supposed to be the flirtatious one here!

Confused at his friend's sudden silence — not to mention his dumbfounded look —, Luke leaped to his feet and ran out of the Falcon, mumbling an almost unintelligible, "See ya".

When a second wire did make a hole through the fabric of his glove, Han barely felt it.

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