~*~
Rule #1: Always look them in the eyes, using soft doe eyes, NOT hard challenging eyes. Never stare them down.
~*~

"YOU WILL BOW TO ME!" Jael exclaimed, leaping over the hedge, rolling a few feet before coming smoothly to her feet, her sword pressed to the General's chest.

"Jael?" the General exclaimed, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

"BOW TO ME!" Jael roared.

Blinking, the General dropped to his knees and bowed down before reaching out to wrap his arms around Jael's waist, dragging her to him for a long hug.

The flat side of her broadsword thwacked him on the side. "Unhand me, inferior being!" Jael cried, smacking him again. Stumbling backwards, the General rose to his feet, squinting at Jael.

It seemed her eyes were . . . glowing. Reaching out quickly, the General tried to make sure that she wasn't possessed . . . but it was just Jael there.

"BOW TO ME!" Jael cried again, leveling her sword at the General's chest.

The General gave her the Look.

Jael blinked. "I said bow to me!" she demanded.

The General gave her the Stance.

Jael eeeped, dropping her sword and diving over the bush before coming up on her feet and running towards the rugby field.

~*~
Rule #2: Always flirt
~*~

"Oh, that's so . . . interesting," Diebin gushed, looking down at Wanker's half-sized mechanic with a soft, squishy-eyed expression that would have made Dande proud. The young boy was currently dissecting the school's toaster to show Diebin how to make a locker bomb. "You are so . . . very nice."

"Stop hogging the girl!" one of the older, and much less interesting boys exclaimed, picking the little blonde twerp up with one hand and promptly dropping him, howling about a sprained wrist.

"Oh, you're so . . . strong?" Diebin said hesitantly. She was far out of her depth out here . . .and without Dande to guide her, she was feeling less and less . . . well, Wench-Like.

Another boy came running up, waving something above his head. "Look! This is my Brittanica Speers trading card collection! Isn't it cool?"

Diebin giggled as best she could, trying to figure out how a true Wench would flirt in this situation. There didn't seem to be many, well, men around. She hadn't even felt the urge to thud yet.

"Hey, look!" yelled the quarterback of the football team, the entire team falling into a heap as they tried to all turn in the same direction at the same time. "It's a girl!"

Diebin, who had felt her eyes narrowing in a most un-Wench-like glare, suddenly brightened. This was one of those strange creatures that her Master had talked about. She knew what she had to do.

Grasping her pink skirts in her hands, she ran daintily across the field towards the Quarterback, leaping to wrap her hands around where she thought his bicep should be.

The Quarterback collapsed to the ground, Diebin falling on top of him in a graceless swirl of pink skirts, whimpering and moaning.

"She hurt me! OUCH! Help! Help! I think my arm is broken!"

~*~
Rule #3: Be funny
~*~

"Emmy, please just let me--"

Emmy opened the door, made a very rude gesture, and then slammed it in the General's face.

Then, just in case he hadn't noticed, she tore it open and slammed it again. A whole lot harder this time.

"Emmy, I just want to help you. Please let me in!"

Emmy opened the bathroom door again, her head covered in corrective hair dye. "I don't need any more of /your/ help, thank you very much," Emmy said with her most withering glare.

"Uh, Emmy?" The General said hesitantly. "I, well, you know I didn't exactly have anything to do with--"

"Oh, how like a man," Emmy snarled. "Of course, it wasn't your fault. It was /all/ my fault." Rolling her eyes, Emmy flicked the General off again and slammed the door shut.

"Well, we did kind of take care of the tattoos . . ."

The door ripped open again, and Emmy tore down the side of her shirt, where the swell of her breast proudly declared, "Qui as here". Oh, thanks so much," Emmy snarled, shaking a dye colored finger at the General. "You are /ever/ so much help."

Making yet another rude gesture, Emmy slammed the door shut again.

"Come on, Emmy," the General purred. "I could help you with your hair . . . and I could make you forget about everything else."

The General heard something that sounded very heavy hit the door.

"I love you, Emmy, and your hair doesn't matter," the General said softly, going for broke.

From the other side of the door, the General heard hysterical laughing. "Oh, that's just classic. I'm laughing over here, Kenobi. Hear me laughing? Go dye /your/ hair bright pink or green something, and then we can talk."

~*~
Rule #4: Listen to them talk about themselves for hours on end.
~*~

"I can't believe you've gotten so big," Qui-Gon said, shaking his head. "This is a most unsettling surprise, my little one."

Dande smiled, her eyes soft as she stared up through lowered lashes from where she knelt at Qui-Gon's feet. It felt good to have a nice, strong Alpha Man around again. So good, in fact, that everything else had gone flying from her brain.

"Would you like a grape, Master?" Dande asked, reaching beside her to the little fridge she and Diebin had bought at Target for half off due to the fact it was too small to hold anything of value. Their grapes, however, fit perfectly.

"Of course, Dande," Qui-Gon said, sitting back and enjoying the nice, passive, and truly unchallenging expression on Dande's face. He didn't know what his Padawan had been smoking since he achieved Knighthood . . . but the boy was missing out carousing with all these women who did nothing but abuse him.

"After that may I brush your hair and give you a massage?" Dande asked, holding her breath in anticipation.

"You may," Qui-Gon replied, smiling and patting his Wench on the head as Dande bustled around to gather all of her pillows to make a nice comfy lounging bed for her beloved Master.

"Will you tell me stories about you while I brush your hair?" Dande begged, helping Qui-Gon to stretch out on his pillows before reaching over to turn on the jazz music that she'd been saving behind the extra Titanic Soundtrack.

"You know I will," Qui-Gon replied, smiling. Yes, he did have it better than his poor apprentice.

Life was good.

~*~
Rule #5: Show your intelligence in NON-THREATENING ways only.
~*~

"Listen to me," Darry exclaimed, slamming the door on the medicine cabinet. "I'm telling you that strangulation is only fatal /sometimes/. It's very possible--"

Dorotea yawned, crossing her arms over her chest. "If he's not dead, which I'd like to add here that I /highly/ doubt, then you don't need to raise him from the dead. Anyway, see what happened last time?"

Tarkin turned from the corner, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You said that there was a stronghold of stupidity and easily manipulated human fodder close by. I must see this place."

"No way, no how," Darry snapped. "Last time I brought a guy anywhere near one of those little twerps, he started ignoring me. I find that mildly offensive, considering that I am an intelligent, attractive, albeit high maintenance woman who likes to fuck, and he was a knee-biting backstabber who is going to grow up to be an asthmatic--" Darry cut off with a look at Tarkin, who had become much more interested at the 'asthmatic' part.

"Umm, Darry?" Dorotea blinked. "Umm, you haven't been drinking Xani's wine lately, have you?"

"And this Xanatos--" Tarkin continued from the corner. "I have heard legends of him--I must meet him. It will be an incredible honor, and maybe he could help me in my search for Vader."

Darry ignored Tarkin. "What was in the wine?" she demanded.

"Well, I'm not sure about this," Dorotea said, inching her way towards the door, "but Xani and my boy have kind of been hanging out together a lot recently . . . and I think Xani may have taken some of the Tin Man's wine home . . ."

"Figures the wine he'd buy me as an apology gift was stolen after all," Darry muttered.

"And that's how I drug him. I put his happy medicine in the wine," Dorotea finished, her hand falling on the doorknob.

Darry blinked.

Dorotea turned the handle on the doorknob.

"You . . . you . . ." Darry fought to hone her rage, but the happy medicine kept short circuiting her usual formidable Power of Anger.

"I'll catch ya later," Dorotea said, dodging out the door.

"Fascinating," Tarkin muttered as he watched Darry begin to trash the clinic in her very scientific and well practiced way. "I have never met women like this before. I shall have to recruit them to my cause."

Darry paused. "Hey, Tarkin. I know of a self-proclaimed Emperor who is trying to rise up and take over the Empire. Wanna do something about it?"

"Show me this transgressor," Tarkin said with a smile. "I will deal with him."

~*~
Rule #6: Never attack their sense of masculinity. Try to encourage them to feel manly.
~*~

"No, check this out now," Josh called out, flexing his arms again. Diebin squinted, trying to see if there had been any change in the muscle mass of his arm.

There hadn't.

Oh well, Master Dande has been very specific as to what must happen in situations like this.

Rising her hands to her chest, Diebin gasped. "Oh my, you're so strong and manly," Diebin gushed, her eyes totally empty of all thought. "You are the strongest man I've ever met!"

"What about me?" another Wanker student cried out, tearing his shirt off and attempting to flex his chest.

Diebin suppressed a wince. It looked like he was going to hurt himself. For one moment, she felt fuzzy headed--as if she were struggling to remember something. She had the almost overwhelming urge to fall over laughing in cruel derision at the pathetic boy's attempts to impress her, a H--

The world shifted again, and Diebin's eyes went even more vapid. "Ooooh," she squealed, sinking to the ground and fanning herself. "You're so strong too. I don't know what to do around all of you big strong men!"

The Wanker boys let out a loud collective cheer, the few boys who hadn't been outside yet running in from the dorms and their nap times. For the first time in their lives, someone had called them men!

Shirts started flying left and right as all the Wanker boys vied for Diebin's attention, hoping that she'd call /them/ manly too.

Knowing her Master would be proud of her, Diebin made sure to compliment every single scrawny boy on his strapping biceps and hunky chests, her perm bouncing and her big pink bow dancing as she went from boy to boy, making them all feel like men for the first time in their very pathetic lives.

The cheers of rejoicing could probably be heard all the way to HSU.

~*~
Epilogue
~*~

Dande hummed to herself as she massaged her Master, listening to him drone on and on about his adventures being one with the Force.

Dande almost swooned when one large hand caught both of hers, Qui-Gon rolling over and giving her his own special kind of look.

"Maybe it's time we locked the door and had a proper greeting," Qui-Gon growled, relaxing back into the pillows to give Dande a nice view of his strapping chest.

It took all of Dande's Wench Powers not to thud right there. Rising to shaking knees, Dande gathered herself enough to try and stand up to lock the door.

One hand tangled in her hair, pulling her back down. "I'll take care of that," Qui-Gon said lowly, waving a hand at the door and hearing it lock.

Dande thudded.

~*~