This was a project for my Early World class. We had to show that we understood the European Feudal system. My friend and I decided to take it into the realm of Star Wars, and also include our favorite character, Trogdor…:D

Miguel, a lowly serf on the planet of Atzerra, was plodding through the manor shed in search of a wrench. As a serf, he was a member of the lowest social class on Atzerra, and worked the fields from sunrise to sunset, three days a week. Miguel had lived on Lord Feodum’s manor for all his life; his father had been a peasant, and as a result, Miguel was, too. He worked under Vassal Vincent, a malicious knight who was loyal to none other than Lord Feodum. Miguel suspected that Feodum was in cahoots with a much larger evil force, and was convinced that his lord even was acquainted with the evil Emperor Duokus himself.¹ Vincent provided military service for his Lord, and in turn, was given a grant of land on which to live.

Lord Feodum had ordered Miguel to fix his steed, his hovercraft. It was broken because his son had taken it out to learn how to fly, and he was still grasping the concept of up and down as opposed to the normal right and left of the conventional Taun-Taun. Miguel now walked up and down the aisles, a shovel here, a didgeridoo there, but no wrench. Miguel finally came upon a toolbox, but upon opening it, he discovered not the sought-for wrench but instead a shiny metal cylindrical object with a button on its side. He picked it up and gazed at it in awe. The serf had never seen anything like it before. It appeared ancient, since splotches of the metal were tarnished, yet strangely futuristic. Miguel pressed the shiny teal button, and…

***

On the other side of the galaxy, approximately twenty nine thousand light years away, the Emperor Duokus was having tea on the Death Star. “More sugar!” he barked. Attendant One came forward, trembling, and spooned additional sugar into the Emperor’s black china cup. “Where’s that other servant?” he sneered, “He spoons my lovely sugar a lot better than you ever could.”

“Y-You forced choked Attendant Two after he placed your pink fluffy pillow on the wrong end of your Turasion lounge seat, Master.”

“Well, where’s the other one, then?”

“Master, you had him thrown into the pit of Sarlak with the ladies.”

“Ah, that’s right. I’ll have to contact steward Jess about getting more of you useless sucks of lard. You’d think he’d be able to manage you servants better. Jolly good show, though, wasn’t it, at the pit?”

“That it was, sir-master-sir.” he said, obviously holding in some snide remarks.

Emperor Duokus then went on to explain for the umpteenth that he had no need for the ladies, since his true love lay in Empress Bafdoon. He picked up a large picture frame that housed a photo of his believed soon-to-be-wife. The faded picture showed a rather over-weight women with a disproportionately small head, giving the illusion of a pea sitting on top of a potato. “Ah, yes,” he said with a happy sigh of contentment, “All I need is that beast of a dragon to serve as dowry for my lovely Bafdoon.”

Attendant One thought for a moment, opened his mouth to say something, reconsidered, reconsidered reconsidering, and finally said, “But sir, isn’t the wife supposed to bring the dowry to the husband?” Attendant One pulled out Your Guide to Marriage and other Mistakes from his back pocket and explained, “After all, a dowry is ‘money or property brought by a bride to her husband at marriage.’”

“Oh, leave thy vain bibble babble! ²” exclaimed Emperor Duokus, who proceeded to force throw Attendant One out of the room. Unfortunately, he missed the door. Twice.

After finally succeeding in removing the servant from the room, Emperor Duokus called in Lord Prawn, who was nibbling on a piece of shrimp as he entered through the metallic doorway.

“You called, my king?” asked Lord Prawn in a high, squeaky voice.

“What is happening to Flounder and Salmon? I swear I told them to muster up an army. They are taking eons and soon there will be consequences…”

“They are still in the mud spa, feuding over who gets the last piece of crab leg.”

Duokus performed what is most commonly known as the face palm, placing his hand upon his forehead in frustration, and let out a deep sigh. “Lord Prawn, if you are to continue your days as my primary lord who controls one of the largest fiefs – and, might I add, the most vassals, who then have the most peasants – upon the Death Star, then you must learn to control those two buffoons.”

“Yes, Master Dorkus – er, I mean Duokus sir-master-sir,” piped Prawn, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“What I need now is an army. A very large army. There is a beast that needs to be tamed, a monster that requires capturing. I want you to muster up all your forces, lay siege to his station, and bring the beast back to me.”

“And so you shall have it sir, but may I ask, what is the monster we shall lay siege upon?”

Master Duokus leapt up from his Turasion lounge seat, dashed over to a control panel, and pressed a very shiny red button. An overhead speaker suddenly began belting out long, low notes in groups of two very much similar to a very popular movie about sharks. Master Duokus turned to Prawn and said in a deep, ominous voice, “I command you…to capture the mighty, the omniscient…Trogdor, the Burninator.”

***

…suddenly a brilliant magenta (Why wasn’t the blade turquoise, wouldn’t that make more sense?) beam of light energy shot out of one end of the metal cylinder. This, of course, happened much to Miguel’s surprise, and he promptly dropped the strange object. It swung downward, and the beam of light neatly cut the toolbox in half. He bent over to pick up the curious device, and finally found the wrench on the floor under the shelving. “Aha!” he exclaimed, not knowing exactly why it was necessary to say such a thing upon finding something that he had been looking for.

Without warning, the wrench flashed hot pink and began making beeping noises. Miguel had a habit of dropping anything he was holding when he became surprised, and did so now. The wrench hit the floor with a clank, and a hologram popped up. A dragon’s head appeared in the bluish tinted light, and Miguel immediately recognized him as the almighty Trogdor the Burninator.

Because Miguel was not holding anything to drop, his jaw did the work for him. Trogdor let out a mighty roar, because this is what dragons do, and then said, “You have activated this message because you are the chosen one.”

There was a pause, most likely for dramatic effect. Miguel simply blinked, and Trogdor continued. “You have most likely already discovered the light saber I had enclosed in that toolbox. Learn to use this weapon; it is your only hope against the forces of evil. Now you must leave your village and come to my station on the Trogonian asteroid belt. You will find me in the keep, which is where I spend most of my time,” (Trogdor pulls out Your Guide to Keeps and Where to Keep Them) “because a keep ‘is the most defended area of a castle (space station), and as such may form the main habitation area, or contain important stores such as the armory (TURBO LASERS), food, and the main water well, which would ensure survival during a siege.’ I have received news that Emperor Duokus plans on capturing me. Being the awesome beast that I am, I most likely won’t need your help. However, the whole starship-m-wing-fighter-destroyer thingy is new to me, so I may need assistance. Ah, I remember the good old days, when all I had to worry about was burninating those thatched-roof cottages…” Here the transmission ended, and Miguel was left to soak up the information.

Who was Trogdor? Miguel didn’t even know that dragons existed anymore, and what was up with that big, beefy arm? Curiosity overtook the young farm boy and he immediately began planning his escape.

¹: The idea here is that Miguel (peasant) is under Vassal Vincent (Knight, or vassal), who is under Lord Feodum (Lord), who is under Emperor Duokus (Pope)

²: Shakespearean for “Stop talking self-regarding, pointless nonsense.”

Does Lord Prawn succeed in gathering up an army and finding Trogdor? Will Miguel succeed in escaping the iron grip of his Lord Feodum’s manor and then traveling to Trogdor’s aide? Find out in the next episode of Feudalism: A True Adventure It Is!!!