Qui-Gon Brings Drake Before the Jedi Council
Qui-Gon stood alone amid the circle of Jedi elders and masters, waiting cautiously to tell them of his discovery.
“Master Qui-Gon, more to say have you?” asked Yoda.
“With your permission, my Master,” Qui-Gon said hesitantly. “I have encountered a vergence in the Force.”
“A vergence, you say?”
“Located around…a person?” asked Mace Windu.
“A boy,” said Qui-Gon. “His cells have the highest–“
The door was suddenly slammed open.
“Why does everyone always call me a boy?!”
Drake stood before the Jedi Council wearing a pristinely pressed black shirt and jeans, chains around his neck and a black baseball cap on backwards. He was visibly distressed by what he had heard.
“Drake, I meant no offense, it’s simply that–“
“Simply what, Qui-Gon?! Simply what?!” Drake shouted. “Shit, man, I’m almost 28 years old, why does everyone insist upon calling me a ‘boy?'”
“Drake, I’m sure not everyone calls you–“
Mace Windu chimed in. “Qui-Gon, Drake, we have much to discuss. Please proceed.”
Qui-Gon looked gently at Drake. “Could you wait outside for a moment?” he asked him.
Drake looked sadly at Qui-Gon.
“Yes, I’ll wait outside. But I want to talk about this later,” said Drake before releasing a quiet whimper and trudging out of the Council room.
Mace Windu let out a heavy sigh as the door shut.
“Continue,” he said.
“Drake’s cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians I have seen in a life form,” said Qui-Gon. “It is possible he was conceived by the midi-chlorians.”
A moment of silence swept the room.
“You’re referring to the prophesy of the one who will bring balance to the Force…you believe it’s this boy? That one? The one who has clearly spent the last three months cultivating his five o’clock shadow?” asked Mace Windu.
“I don’t presume…” stammered Qui-Gon.
“Ah, but you do!” interjected Yoda. “Revealed your opinion is!”
“I request the boy be tested.”
“Trained as a Jedi, you request for him?” asked Yoda.
Qui-Gon continued. “Finding him was the will of the Force; I have no doubt of that. There is too much happening here to–“
“Where did you find him again?” inquired Mace Windu.
“Well, on Tattooine, though I understand he is originally from Canada–“
Mace Windu let out a belabored groan.
“Hold on, guys, I’m sorry if this is a stupid question,” said the Jedi with the cone-shaped head. “But was he on Degrassi?”
“Listen, I don’t think that’s relevant!” retorted Qui-Gon. “His midi-chlorian–“
“The actor from Degrassi, he is,” answered Yoda.
“No. No no no. No fucking way. No fucking way is the kid from Degrassi going to be a goddamn Jedi,” said Mace Windu authoritatively.
“He could bring balance to the Force! All I’m requesting is that he be tested,” pleaded Qui-Gon desperately. “Can’t he just be tested?”
Mace Windu rolled his eyes, as if everyone he had ever known had asked him to be tested.
“Bring him before us.”
Drake sat at the center of the Jedi Council, the eyes of the wisest and most powerful knights of the galaxy resting upon him.
“Okay, here’s the last exercise,” explained Mace Windu. “All I want you to do is tell me what object is displayed on the screen I’m looking at. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Master Windu,” said Drake. “This one’s an Argyle sweater.”
“Umm, I guess,” said Mace Windu. “It’s really just a sweater, there’s no specification as to the pattern.”
Drake scoffed. “It’s an Argyle sweater. I promise.”
“Well, I’m looking at it right now. With my eyes. It’s just a sweater.”
“Whatever,” Drake mumbled. “Maybe you’d see the Argyle pattern if you had as many midi-chlorians as I do.”
“Don’t FUCK with me, Drake,” threatened Mace Windu.
“Calm yourself, you must,” Yoda implored the two.
A tense silence.
“Okay, next picture,” said Mace Windu.
Drake puffed out his chest with an arrogant smile. “L’Oreal No Tears Watermelon Shampoo.”
Mace Windu looked up from the screen. “It’s just a regular shampoo bottle, Drake.”
“I know, because it’s regular for adults to use No Tears shampoo. Is there a problem here?”
“Yes, there’s a bit of a problem,” said Mace Windu. “You’re misunderstanding this exercise. You’re overanalyzing the images. It shows an unsettling impatience in you.”
“It’s not my fault that I can see deeper into the images than you can,” responded Drake.
“But there is no more depth to the images than what I see. How is that not clear? The only logical reason to assume a shampoo bottle is L’Oreal No Tears is if you had never used any other type of shampoo.”
Drake began blushing noticeably.
“Besides,” continued the Jedi with cone-shaped head, “L’Oreal No Tears shampoo bottles aren’t shaped like normal shampoo bottles. Regular shampoo bottles have a neck, L’Oreal are shaped sort of like a football.”
“More of a teardrop shape, it seems,” added Yoda.
The Council took a moment to reflect on the irony.
“How feel you?” Yoda asked Drake warmly.
Drake took a moment to search for a response that conveyed his spiritual depth without revealing his emotional vulnerabilities.
“Afraid, are you?”
“Afraid?” asked Drake incredulously. “I’m not afraid of anything.“
“You’re not afraid of horses?” asked Mace Windu.
“Come on, everyone’s afraid of horses,” said Drake defensively. “I didn’t count horses.”
Windu pressed on. “Afraid to give up your life?”
“No,” said Drake.
“See through you, we can,” said Yoda.
“Be mindful of your feelings,” added Mace Windu.
The Jedi with the cone-shaped head chimed in: “Your thoughts dwell on your mother.”
Drake sighed. “I miss her,” he admitted.
“Afraid to lose her, I think,” suggested Yoda.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” snapped Drake.
“Everything. Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”
“I’m not afraid of anything, okay?!” said Drake. “Seriously, I’m like a pretty tough guy! Why does nobody seem to get that?”
“A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind. I sense much fear in you.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then continue, we will.”
Drake and Qui-Gon, along with Qui-Gon’s current apprentice, Obi-Wan, have been brought to the Jedi Council to hear the Council’s decision on Drake’s fate.
“Correct you were, Qui-Gon,” said Yoda.
“His cells contain a high concentration of midi-chlorians,” added Mace Windu.
“Yeah, damn right they do,” said Drake. “Also, I want to clear something up real quick. Remember during the testing, when I said I was afraid of horses? Okay, well I’m not really like, afraid of horses. I just don’t like them very much, that’s all.”
“You don’t like any horses?” asked Mace Windu.
“No, I don’t like any of them,” said Drake.
Drake shivered visibly.
“And what is it that scares you so much about horses?” prodded Mace Windu.
“Everything. They’re so big and fast, and you’re supposed to be able to ride them but even when you do, it’s not like you have full control, and any day they could just decide they’ve had enough and destroy the entire–“
Drake suddenly stopped speaking, realizing he had been tricked into admitting his irrepressible fear of horses. Mace Windu exchanged a hearty snicker with Yoda.
The Jedi with the cone-shaped head continued: “The Force is strong with him.”
“He is to be trained, then?” asked Qui-Gon.
Mace Windu shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No. He will not be trained.”
Drake looked up slowly from his feet and around the room, sadness and devastation emanating from his glassy eyes.
“No?” Qui-Gon asked incredulously.
“He is too old,” explained Mace Windu. “There is already too much anger in him.”
“And what’s wrong with a little anger?” Drake retorted loudly. “Just because I’m incredibly talented and stuff doesn’t mean I don’t have emotions like anyone else, okay?! I just don’t want to be closed off, you know?”
“He is the chosen one; you must see it,” said Qui-Gon.
“Clouded, this boy’s future is,” said Yoda. “Masked by his youth.”
“I’M NOT A BOY!”
“I will train him, then,” said Qui-Gon. “I will take Drake as my Padawan learner.”
“An apprentice you have, Qui-Gon. Impossible, to take on a second,” said Yoda.
“We forbid it,” added Mace Windu with finality.
Qui-Gon did not relent. “Obi-Wan is ready–“
“I am ready to face the trials,” agreed Obi-Wan.
“Ready so early? What know you of ready?” asked Yoda.
“WOULD YOU ALL PLEASE JUST STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M SOME KIND OF DUMB KID?!?!?!?!” shouted Drake.
The room fell to a confused pause.
“Drake, he was actually talking to Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said softly.
Drake crossed his arms. “Whatever,” he mumbled. “I’m just not feeling this right now.”
“Maybe you should have a Sprite,” suggested the Jedi with the cone-shaped head.
The Jedi Council exploded into uproarious laughter. Even Qui-Gon offered a chuckle as Drake stormed out of the room.
“Yeah,” laughed Qui-Gon. “No fucking way we’re training that kid.”