I can't believe i'm about to write a fiction about Howie and pants. But here goes:
It was a long time ago in a galaxy somewhere north of where we live now. I hear it is cold there, and everyone is extremely polite. Anyway, Howlader Taldrya had just received a delightfully comfortable pair of p...
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I can't believe i'm about to write a fiction about Howie and pants. But here goes:
It was a long time ago in a galaxy somewhere north of where we live now. I hear it is cold there, and everyone is extremely polite. Anyway, Howlader Taldrya had just received a delightfully comfortable pair of pants from his best friend Mav. Howie and Mav had been best pals for almost 15 years. Their friendship was built on mutual trust and respect, and there was no better gift than such a wonderfully comfortable pair of pants.
Howie loved his pants. He wore them everywhere. The gym, the bar, work, sleep, even swimming; Howie never took those pants off!
And then, that fateful day in the last month of 33 ABY came.
Mav and Howie were outlining plans for a new type of warfare. This warfare would involve smaller battles that Mav referred to as bins. These combat bins would provide a small amount of resources to each of the clans. Howie liked this idea greatly, and he rubbed his pants in appreciation.
“Mav, you are such a great friend. I like your idea. Also, these pants are great.”
“Howie, you need to wash your pants.”
“No I don’t. They are more comfortable this way. I don’t like to change.”
“Please change your pants.”
“No. And I don’t appreciate that tone, Mav. Please, let us continue our friendship.”
And so Howie and Mav moved past this small dispute. Mav continued to discuss bin warfare, and Howie continued to be pleased with Mav’s plan. And of course, he was a big fan of his pants.
Then Mav decided to issue orders to the clans. He wanted to make certain that each set of orders clearly identified how the bin warfare would work. Specific percentages for each mission type.
Howie was concerned, but the comfort of his pants kept him from becoming too upset.
“Mav, I don’t think it’s completely necessary for us to put the same thing in each one of the orders. Maybe we just say it once, and then the clans can assume that the same information applies to all of them?
“No Howie. It’s important to me that we make it clear in each order how many resources the clans will receive.”
“You do realize that is going to create a great deal of work for me, don’t you? It seems excessive. I don’t think we should do this. I urge you to reconsider.”
“NO Howie, we will do this my way. Make the necessary adjustments.”
Howie was displeased.
“This is becoming close to jackassery, Mav. I demand that you only do it once.”
“No. Do as I say.”
“I am getting angry, friend Mav. Please do not make me do something I regret.”
“Are you threatening me?”
And with that, Howie lost his temper.
“MAV, YOU JACKASS! YOU DON’T NEED TO PUT THIS IN EVERY ORDER. JUST DO IT ONCE!”
And then Howie stood up and ripped his pants in anger. He ripped them completely in half, and threw the pieces of his torn pants at Mav, as though they were the torn pieces of his soul.
And from that day forward, Howie and Mav became bitter rivals, arguing over the smallest of details, but never as much as they would every time bin warfare reared its head.