For many years, Louie was an admittedly small storm trooper in the army of the Imperial Empire. In English measurements, Louie was only 3 ½ feet tall and he was a definite featherweight, at a mere 42 pounds, compared to the average storm trooper. The bunny still has a blaster burn on the left side of his nose and similar burn marks down his back from life-and-death struggles as a storm trooper for the evil Emperor.
Due to the Emperor's rejection of non-human species and the constant oppression of bunnies within the service's ranks, Louie, like many others of non-human species, finally yielded to the counterincentives of loyalty repaid with shame and discrimination, by turning against the Empire and its arrogantly obvious corruption.
Louie Minlop was an excellent storm trooper. He was gifted with exceptional senses as well as uncanny wisdom, quickly being assigned interrogation duties when renegades were captured. As a rule, only well-trained Jubi Knights could adequately conceal autonomic responses enough that Louie's bright eyes and sharp ears couldn't see and hear an elevated pulse, or so well that his nose couldn't smell the reek of perspiration from someone trying to obscure a truth. But before long, Louie inferred much about the corrupt inner workings of the Empire and infiltrated Imperial security. He also arranged to have many rebels, captured by the Imperial agents, smuggled off to safety. It was a great loss, whether understood or not at the time, for the Empire to have revealed its ugliness to this talented bunny, therefore losing his service and creating a powerful enemy within the Empire's ranks.
Within Imperial networks, Louie began to secretly use his authority and talents to tear small but important holes in the data nets that controlled vital supply shipments to Imperial outposts. As a result, entire fleets of Imperial star cruisers stationed at fringe areas of the universe ran out of music tapes, exercise videos, dental floss, parts to repair their ships, toilet paper, coffee and creamer, food, and increasingly important items, eventually dooming them to abandon their own ships and scrape out unpleasant lives on nasty, bug-infested planets, such as they could find.
If the truth were known, Luke was, in those days, little more than a videogame jockey. To put it bluntly, Luke was more likely to laugh a whomp-rat to death with his ridiculous marksmanship than to actually hit one with his speeder guns, but Jubi Master Yogurt was determined to build Luke's confidence. So Yogurt contacted Louie aboard the Emperor's Dearth Star.
Louie replaced serrated flux detectors in the Dearth Star reactor core with unshielded plastic units made by FragTech Industries. These modifications made the reactor core very susceptable to critical damage if the toilets would happen to plug up. Most items manufactured by FragTech are highly illegal within the Empire because they almost invariably fail instantly and are known to blow up spontaneously, and they are very dangerous imitations of the good parts that are manufactured by decent companies like Allen-Bradley, Honeywell and Automation Direct.
Louie also installed magnetic beam attractors on critical vent ports of the Emperor's Dearth Star. Luke couldn't have missed those bathroom exhaust ports if he'd fired backwards, which he may have done while his eyes were closed. Sure enough, Luke's blaster shot ignited ventilator exhaust from the Dearth Star's restrooms, instantly causing all the toilets to overflow and the reactor to detonate. (One restroom for 23 million lifeforms is no small issue when it blows.) But Yogurt's last transmission sealed Louie's fate since it was carried over the Dearth Star's 50-terrawatt public address system. Imperial Security immediately began conducting a massive rabbit hunt for Louie at that time. It is fortunate that such a small bunny rabbit can hide so well from humans simply by not moving; Louie was repeated overlooked until he could hop 4,625 miles down corridor C23F6 on level 4,000,007,023 then escape in a tie fighter that he had previously secured for such an emergency.
The Universe is essentially flat. During Imperial rule, everyone understood this. Hyperspace travel is simply a deflection out of normal spacetime similar to a stone skipping over a pond, the trick being to reenter normal spacetime without smacking into something hard as you fall out of hyperspace and skim back into the universe where most creatures live in eternal gridlock.
While the scaling constants of the thin dimension through the universe makes everything appear thickly symmetrical in that direction from within, 21st century Earth understanding of the universe is unfortunately flawed. But Louie understood the dynamics of hyperspace quite well, and with an entire Imperial fleet pursuing him and more enemies waiting with interdictor ships at every possible safe point of re-entry along his trajectory, Louie overrode the computer safeties, rev limiter and pollution control devices on his little ship, mashed the throttle to the floor and shot into hyperspace at well over 10,000 erpums on an arc which promised very little chance of ever again landing in any part of the Universe which Louie had previously known.
Outside the plane of "normal space," nine dimensions swirl and vortex into fluidic eddies that are impossible to describe in terms of three simplistic spatial dimensions coexisting with linear time. The rules forbid such chaos very close to the known universe, but deviation very far into obtuse trajectories away from planar spacetime throws an unwary traveler into the clutches of swirling, infinite blendings of dimension / time displacements which appear as a sickly yellow flux, rather like scrambled eggs before they are cooked. So it was that Louie, still in his storm trooper uniform, left a galaxy far, far away and Imperial pursuit far, far beyond to arrive, quite surprisingly, on Mars during Earth Year 1996.
Mars is an ugly place. Now every place in the Universe has its beauty, to be sure, but if you're stuck there with very few parts and a badly smashed spaceship and it's hot and there aren't any A&W rootbeer stands or anything, and suddenly you and your ship are annoyingly tiny because you've been dimensionally ravaged, it's likely that your attitude about that place will tend to be harsh.
Louie arrived on Mars with only enough mass left to weigh about 14 ounces on Earth. At a mere 4 ½ inches of height, all the spattered debris on Mars made it very difficult for Louie to see any distance unless he leapt into the pitifully hot, thin air for a peek. In the weak gravity of Mars, this usually resulted in uncontrolled returns to the rock-strewn surface, with consequent bruises and clouds of red dirt which clung to Louie's delicate fur until he was little more than a hopping dust cloud. Is it any wonder that Louie despised Mars and detested its loneliness?
But coming from our Earth, Louie could tune in to Gilligan's Island reruns and hear Pink Floyd as Dave Gilmore described the insanity of mankind with wondrously luring chords from the strings of Fender Stratocasters. Certainly MaryAnn and Ginger were enough to determine Louie's destination to Earth, but Louie could not finish his craft's repairs adequately to make the short hop from Mars to Earth.
So, in frustration, Louie built a massive caricature of his beautiful bunny face in an attempt to flag down public transport from Earth, not realizing that most of our public transport (except for the Russian Space Program) doesn't yet include space tourism. Louie, of course, just figured that there weren't any travelers to Mars simply because it was such a disgusting place to visit.
Building such a structure may seem to be a daunting task, but Louie is an expert digger and has repeatedly demonstrated his skill at kicking all the dirt out of a potty box in very short order.
At a trim 14 ounces net weight, Louie intends to mentally condition Onyx to achieve a more politically-correct girth. "This is an age of mindless, shallow judgements," said Louie. "With my arrival in this candidacy, the I.Q. level of the combined candidates has jumped by a factor of ten. As the brains of this candidacy, I will sit in the background and pull strings for the puppet, but one can't be a disgustingly fat blob like Onyx and expect to win the support of all those spandex jockeys out there, pounding their Nikes into the pavement day after day so that they can impress their bosses to give them a promotion.
When asked about the new, healthier generation, Louie stated, "Personally, I'd like them better without the stench of sweat and lotions, and it's apparent that jogging kills brain cells from the repetitive impacts. Many of these yuppies are willing to pay $30,000+ for land crafts called 'S-U-Vs' (yuck!) to 'get away,' but they take their communication units and tracking devices with them so that their evil emperors, bosses and anyone else can find them, watch them and yell at them wherever they go. The stress of payments and harassment burn them out. They don't seem to be very bright "
-- patty cake, rocky mountain compost news staff reporter
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material as presented on this page [July 8, 2001 - pending].
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