Mazel Tov!
by Shikseh Siubhan and Zaftig R'Hul,
and a really funny bit suggested by Mashgiach Jedimom
and you can pretty much blame this on the "Put the Han in Hanukkah Girls' Day In."
[Read Siubhan's author bio]

The voice of Auntie Miriam will be provided by Sheila Broflovski. (May Mary Kay Bergman rest in peace.) There is a glossary at the end for the shiksehs and shaygets in the audience.

Maul headed out to his balcony, clad only in his running shorts, to lift weights, and stopped dead in his tracks as he looked over at the neighboring balcony. "What in nine Sith hells are you doing?"

"Stringing up Christmas lights," Obi-Wan replied with a grin.

"Are you back on Perkium or something?"

"No, not at all. I just...well, I like Christmas," Obi-Wan said with a sheepish grin. "My family celebrates it every year, you know."

"I know. I was there last year, remember? The insipid caroling, the bland food, the shivering around a tree in the snow. It was horrible."

"Yeah, but it's a family thing, you know?"

"Ben-Wa is family."

Obi-Wan shivered. "Well, you can't pick your family, unfortunately. So, what do you want for Christmas?"

"I don't celebrate Christmas. I'm Jewish."

"You're not a practicing Jew, though."

"No, it's more a cultural thing."

"Hang on," Obi-Wan said, leaning back against his railing. "If you're Jewish, why aren't you circumcised?"

"I am circumcised," Maul lied.

"No way. I've seen plenty of circumcised penises, and yours most definitely isn't. It looks just like mine."

"I'm an alien, remember?"


"You should have seen what I looked like before the circumcision."

Obi-Wan gulped hard.

Maul happily drank in the terror radiating from his neighbor and decided to up it a notch. "You see, I used to have spikes."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened.

"They pruned them."

Maul had never heard Obi-Wan whimper quite like that before.

"And we won't even talk about what my foreskin looked like before..."

"I've heard enough!" Obi-Wan gasped, holding his hands out in front of him. "Sorry I asked."

"The tattoos cover the scars," Maul mused.

"Moving right along! Okay, no Christmas presents. Fine. How about Hanukkah? Do you get Hanukkah presents?"

"Of course."

"When is Hanukkah anyway?"

"Tonight's the last night."

"How exactly do you celebrate it?"

"Latkes, brisket, cookies, presents, dreidels, and lots of fire."

"Maul, you're drooling."

"Sorry, thinking of latkes does that to me. Dammit, it's been too long. I'm cooking a Hanukkah meal tonight at seven. You're coming. Bring Mary Sue and presents."

"You're inviting people over? Where did this sudden altruistic streak come from?"

"The more people there are, the more presents I get."

"But don't you need to buy presents too?"

"I'm cooking. That should be present enough."

"Okay then, how about Da?"

"No, you may not invite Palpatine. Nor may you invite your hippie freak master or his bald bong-toting sidekick."

"Oh, Master Windu..."

"Shouldn't that be 'Winduhoohoo'?"

"Not anymore," Obi-Wan snarled. Now it was Maul's turn to gulp hard. "Master Windu is fasting for Ramadan, so he won't be able to attend."

"That only lasts until sundown, although the no sex thing is supposed to last the full month, even when the sun is down."

Obi-Wan grinned evilly. "Oh dear. Do you think I should tell Master Qui-Gon?"

"You do, and he's just gonna screw your dad for a month."

Obi-Wan shivered again, then said, "Scary visual place. So, should I get one of those little beanies? Um, you know, a yar-mule-kul?"

"You are such a goy."

"When did I ever say I was straight?"

"Just show up. Bring nothing but presents. And it's pronounced 'ya-ma-ka.'"

"Will I need one?"

"Oy." Maul rolled his eyes and walked back into his apartment.


"Hey sis!"

"Hey bro! What's up?"

"Well, Maul asked me to call to invite you to his Hanukkah meal tonight."

"I am so there. I haven't had latkes in ages."

"He told me not to bring any food, but I really feel like I should. Oh, and are you sure I don't need a yah-mah-kah?"

"Positive. Look, if you want to bring something, just buy him a present. But leave the cooking and the culture to Maul, okay?"

"Maybe I could bring appetizers or something. Maybe twice-mashed potatoes with cheddar cheese and bacon?"

"You are such a goy, Obi-Wan."

"I know I'm gay! Why does everybody keep pointing that out all of the sudden?"

"Look, just show up, bring a present that doesn't involve pork products, and don't be a putz!"




Maul returned from the grocery store with supplies for that evening's meal, and noted with satisfaction that the cleaning droids had done the job. He hadn't been too sure they still worked. He'd had to rescue them from a pile of dirty socks and a couple of incipient civilizations. But the apartment was spotless. With any luck, it would remain so until after dinner. He didn't want any civilizations springing up and stealing the latkes.

My Apprentice trotted in and sniffed at the bags. Maul looked down at her and groaned. "Just what the hell is that on your head?"

I made a little yarmulke out of my old shed fur.

"You're not male, and you're not Jewish."

I'm spayed, and technically I'm as Jewish as you are, she sniffed.

"You're just doing this to mock me."


Maul rolled his eyes and started putting away the groceries. Just as he finished, the phone rang. He cast a wary eye at his illicit new caller ID box--his master would not approve of losing the advantage of surprise--and noted with astonishment that it read "Miriam Palpatine." Auntie Miriam? Why was she calling? "Hello?"

"Maulie! Oh, if it isn't my favorite adopted alien nephew. Happy Hanukkah, bubeleh!"

"Er, Happy Hanukkah, Auntie Miriam."

"It is so good to talk to you, plemenik! I haven't seen you since that horrible wedding. Oy! It kills me to see a good Jewish family turning their back on their heritage and becoming Jabba's Witnesses. But you'd never do that, my little mensh!"

"Er, no. Of course not."

"So of course, Samuel hasn't celebrated Hanukkah ever since that horrible wife of his converted, and Sidney never celebrates the holidays anymore unless it's part of a campaign appearance. And we won't even talk about your Grandma Doris! Oy! What a yachne! She's enough to drive anyone to the Dark Side. Can you picture that? Me as a Sith?"

"No," Maul answered honestly.

"And did I tell you about my bunions?"

Maul held the earpiece away from his head as Auntie Miriam kvetched for the next twenty minutes about family, her bunions, politics, the local temple (Beth Naboo), and her favorite lipstick color being discontinued. Every now and then, he made little noncommittal sounds to make her think he was listening. He'd had years of practice doing that with, Sidious. Finally, she wound down with, "...and so I was thinking that you could come over here and we could have a nice Hanukkah dinner together. Just you and me."

"I'm busy."

"But Maulie, I want to give you your Hanukkah presents!"

"Be here at seven. I'm cooking."

"Just you and me?"

"Obi-Wan and Mary Sue will be here too."

"You mean your goy boy toy and his shikseh sister?"

"You could put it that way."

"Oh, I know they're Sidney's children, but their mother is Dartha Stewart, and you can't get more Gentile than her! Anyhow, are you sure you don't want me to cook?"

"No. You burn the latkes."

"All right, bubeleh. I'll be there!"


*Ding dong*

Maul snarled as the doorbell interrupted his rhythm, causing him to get a chunk of knuckle caught in the potato grater. Sucking on the wound, he threw open the door and yelled, "You're early!"

"I know, bubbe!" Auntie Miriam gushed. "But I haven't seen you in so long, and I wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing with the latkes and the brisket."

"I'm an excellent cook, Auntie Miriam."

"I'm sure you are. Well, good yontif to you, Maulie!" She looked up at the doorframe suspiciously. "Hah! Just like I thought. That apikorous brother of mine didn't give you a proper education." She reached into her giant pocketbook, whipped a small metal box out, muttered a few Hebrew words, and stuck it to the doorframe. "There, now you have a mezuzah."

Maul was about to open his mouth and explain that he damn well didn't need one, when My Apprentice trotted out in her little yarmulke and wound herself around Auntie Miriam's ankles. "Oh, what a sweet kitty!" she cooed, scritching the cat's chin with fuchsia-manicured fingernails. "Here, I brought you something." She reached back into her giant pocketbook and dropped a catnip-stuffed dreidel on the ground. My Apprentice took one sniff and started savaging it. "What a cute thing. She reminds me of you when you were little! You know, before Sidney got you that electrolysis. Why he did that, I don't know. I told him, 'Sidney, that boy has a lovely coat of fur. Don't you dare touch it!' But he said 'No ward of mine is going to parade around looking like a pygmy Wookiee. And besides, his fur tangles.' So I said, 'Well, if you just used conditioner on him, maybe his fur would be all nice and silky!' But then he said..."

Maul headed back for the kitchen. No sense in trying to interrupt her once she got a full head of steam on.


Twenty minutes and three more grated knuckles later, there was another knock at the door.

" I told him not to be such a yentzer if he ever wanted to get into politics, and what does he do? Drag shows! Oy gevalt, what a momzer. But at least he's not a Jabba's Witness!"

Maul plodded back out to the living room and opened the door. "Where are the presents?" he asked.

Mary Sue and Obi-Wan obediently held out large shopping bags, which Maul immediately snatched away.

"You look tense," Obi-Wan noted.

"Auntie Miriam's here."

Obi-Wan's eyes went wide as saucers as Auntie Miriam took one look at him and started covering him with kisses. "It's so good to see you again, Obi-Wan! Maul tells me that you two are dating now! How sweet! You're such a nice boy. Just remember, Maul's a good Jewish boy, so you'd better not think about converting him you are."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Maul dug through Obi-Wan's bag, past the pile of PlayStation games and the packages with Divine Oscillations wrapping paper, until he found the bottle of scotch he knew would be there. Uncorking it with his teeth, he took a deep swig. Much better.

Mary Sue beamed and shook Auntie Miriam's hand. "Good to see you again. Oy, can you believe it? It's chlopping like a hurricane out there! Nice mezuzah. Did you bring it?"

"I like her!" Auntie Miriam beamed.

Holding up another shopping bag, Mary Sue said, "Maul, I brought you a nice sterling silver menorah, an aged Bordeaux to go with dinner, and some jelly doughnuts. I know jelly doughnuts aren't quite the custom for your branch of Judaism..."

"They're lovely!" Auntie Miriam gushed. "It's nice to mix in other Hanukkah traditions."

"I brought macaroons and blackberry Manishevitz," Obi-Wan added.

Maul ripped the box of macaroons from his hand and growled, "These are Passover cookies!"

"But the tin says they're kosher!"

"Kosher for Passover two years ago, putz!"

"Manishevitz?" Auntie Miriam asked. "That reminds me of little Maul's Bar Mitzvah."

"Really?" Mary Sue's eyes lit up. "Oh, do tell."

Maul groaned, took another swig of scotch, and disappeared back to the relative safety of the kitchen. He would have his revenge. Oh yes. And he knew exactly how.


Obi-Wan stuck his head in the kitchen. "Maul?"

"What?" Maul snarled.

"Mary Sue tells me that that tantalizing smell coming from in here is latkes."

"She's right."

"They smell really good."

"They are really good."

"When will they be ready?"

"When I say so."

"Can we have some now?"

"No. Piss off."




"Hey Maul?" Mary Sue asked.


"When are you going to serve the latkes? They smell really good."

"Not until I've cooked them all."

"Shouldn't you bring them out as you finish them? You know, in stages?"


"They smell really good."

"I know. I've been using the Force to waft the smell out there."

Mary Sue sidled up to Maul and pressed up against him. "If you bring out some latkes, I'll make it worth your while."

"No you won't. You can't fool me with that."




"Yes, Auntie Miriam?"

"Be a good boy and let us nosh on the latkes."

"No, Auntie Miriam."

"Bubbe, this is your favorite auntie here."

"You're my only auntie. The answer is still no."

"Oy! What a sourpuss! You're just like Sidney!"

"You've been telling them embarrassing stories about my childhood, haven't you?"

"Not embarrassing, Maulie. Cute stories, yes, but not embarrassing. I just told them about how when Sidney first brought you to see me. You were such a vilde chayea. You curled up in my mink coat and threw drek at us from your diaper when we tried to get it back from you. Poor little mensh. You missed your Tauntaun mother so much..."



Obi-Wan stuck his head back in. "Can we at least eat the jelly doughnuts while we wait?"

"No! It will spoil your appetite."

"A few macaroons?"


"Come on, Maul! You're torturing us with the smell!"

"You catch on quick."

"If you don't feed us soon, we're going to start eating your PlayStation games."

"They're not very filling."

"I don't want to know how you know that."

"No you don't."

"We're dying of hunger out here."

"Good. More latkes for me."

"Shite Maul, you're a sadistic bastard sometimes."

"Sometimes? Damn, point out to me when I'm slacking, okay?"


My Apprentice slunk into the kitchen on her belly, stalking the glistening stack of latkes by the stove. With an agile leap, she landed on the counter and started sneaking up on the plate. If she did this right, the latkes would never see her coming.

Maul turned on her. "What do you think you're doing?"

Oh, right. Him. She could handle this. My Apprentice rolled on her back and whined piteously.

"Your starving act might be more convincing if you didn't have a round belly."

My Apprentice rolled back on her feet and bonked Maul with the top of her yarmulked head.

"That only works on Sidious."

She nonchalantly started washing her face. Right, I knew that.

"What the hell is that?" Maul asked, brandishing his spatula at her neck. "A prayer shawl?"

I made it out of one of your old jock straps. Now gimme some latkes and no one gets hurt!

Maul grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and tossed her into the living room. "Out!"


As Auntie Miriam took her turn at nagging Maul to serve the latkes, Obi-Wan took Mary Sue aside and whispered, "Are they going to do that chair dance?"

"That's only at weddings, and sometimes bar mitzvahs."

"Am I allowed to eat with my left hand?"

"That's Muslim, not Jewish."

"How about eating that flat bread?"

"I hope you're talking matzoh and not papadum. Obi-Wan, don't you know anything about Judaism?"

"Not really."

"Why didn't you do anything to learn? I mean, you're the one who insisted that Maul be your exclusive boyfriend. You'd think you'd have taken at least a little time to learn about his heritage."

"Well, he doesn't talk about being Jewish that much, so I forgot, and..." Obi-Wan trailed off guiltily.

"Oh, don't give me that Gentile guilt crap!" Mary Sue hissed.

"I can't help it!" Obi-Wan whispered. "I just think of everything his people went through and feel guilty."

"Because your people oppressed the Jews?"

"Well, er, no, but..."

"Get over it, bro. You're acting worse than when you were on Perkium."

"But he makes me feel so damned guilty every time I don't understand any part of his Jewish culture."

"Obi-Wan, he does that about everything! Stand up to him, dammit!"

"Well, I am still a Jedi, you know."


"Hey, I do have an idea for when the two of us are alone," Obi-Wan beamed. "I bought a dreidel and looked up the rules."

"Obi-Wan, it's a gambling game that you play for candy," Mary Sue sighed.

"Yes, but with modest modification to the rules, you come up with strip dreidel." Obi-Wan waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Strip dreidel."

"What do you think?"

"Well, for starters, you're both Force-users, so that poor dreidel doesn't stand a chance."

"I know. It'll be a quick game."

"But I don't think you're going to be able to get Maul to play."

"Why not?"

"The boy's spent the whole day in the kitchen, has grated nearly all his knuckles, probably got a sore back and legs, and is covered in burns from splattering oil, and will have a mountain of dishes to contend with when this is all over. Plus you've never eaten Jewish cooking."

"Well, no."

"It's not exactly a light cuisine. We've probably already put on five pounds each just from the smell. Between him being beat and the two of you being laden down with heavy food, I don't think it's gonna happen."

Obi-Wan got a dangerous glint in his eye. "Be right back."

He marched to the kitchen and used a subtle Force-suggestion to nudge Auntie Miriam back out. He then pressed himself up behind Maul and whispered, "If you let us eat the latkes now, I promise to give you a rub-down to end all rub-downs as soon as everyone's gone, right after I get the cleaning droids working on the dishes."

Maul gulped hard and almost burned a hole in Obi-Wan's pants watching his tuchis sashay out of the kitchen. Without even looking, he grabbed the bowl and dumped what was left of the starchy liquid into the hot oil...

"Owwwwww FUUUUCK!!!!!"

"Maulie?" Auntie Miriam called. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine!" he called, then grumbled, "Now where did I put that fucking aloe..."


The gang of four sat down at the dinner table, the smell of latkes and brisket wafting over them. As Maul started slicing the brisket with bandaged hands, Auntie Miriam put the menorah in the middle of the table and started lighting the candles as she prayed out loud in Hebrew.

When she sat down, Obi-Wan lifted his glass and said, "Next year on Coruscant!"

Three sets of eyes turned and stared.


"That's a Passover toast," Mary Sue hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"Let's just eat before you embarrass me further!" Maul snapped.

And with that, the group dug in.

"Er, bro?" Mary Sue noted.

"Mmm hmm?"

"You know how you just leaned over to grab a stack of latkes and some applesauce?"


"Well, you leaned over the menorah."


"Your braid's on fire."

"Shite!" Obi-Wan dunked his smoldering hair into his Bordeaux.

Auntie Miriam helpfully noted, "The proper term, dearie, is 'oy gevalt.'"

"I'm Scottish."

"Well, I'm sure that can't be helped, bubbe. Maul, this is all just wonderful!" Auntie Miriam gushed. She cocked her head in thought, then said, "'Maul.' Can you believe that name? Oy! What was Sidney thinking?"

"Maul's a perfectly good name," Maul snarled.

"Your name was supposed to be Saul!"

"Really?" Mary Sue asked, refilling Auntie Miriam's wine glass. "What happened?"

"A typo! Can you believe it? A typo on the adoption certificate that my shmendrick brother never got around to fixing. I ask you? What kind of name is 'Maul' for a good Jewish boy? Change it to Saul, would you bubbe?"

"I like my name."

"I dunno," Obi-Wan said with an impish grin. "Maybe we should call you Saul from now on."

"Do and die. Besides, Auntie, it's my Hebrew name. That should be sufficient."

Mary Sue grinned and said, "Auntie Miriam told us the whole story of your Bar Mitzvah, right down to you barfing down her dress. Plus she told us about your first trip to the zoo, your first day at school..."

"...oh, and when you were the ring bearer at your second cousin's wedding."

"He was so cute in that little tuxedo!" Miriam gushed. "Too bad about those doves they were planning to release as soon as the ceremony was over."

"I was bored!" Maul snarled. "Besides, one managed to fly away."

"Yes, dripping blood all over the bride's dress! Oy. My brother did a good thing by adopting you, but sometimes I'm not so sure about his parenting skills. He certainly never gave you a proper education about Jewish traditions."

Maul rolled his eyes and gestured at the dinner. "And just what do you call all this?"

"You do have the food down, that's true. Even down to the grated knuckles and the grease burns. Like I always said, 'If there isn't a bit of knuckle in the potatoes then they aren't real latkes'..."

Obi-Wan blanched and looked down at his plate.

"...but clearly Sidney didn't tell you that you can't be buried in a Jewish cemetery if you have tattoos!"

"When I die, Auntie, I'll be lucky if my carcass is hauled off to the slag heap, never mind a cemetery."

"And I don't know why Sidney never uses his first name. It's always 'Palpatine this' or 'Palpatine that.' What, is my brother too good for his own first name?"

Mary Sue rested her head on her hand and said, "You know, I never knew before tonight that our father's name was Sidney."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Neither did I."

Miriam turned to Maul and asked, "Why didn't you tell them?"

He shrugged. "They never asked. What did you think the S stood for?"

Mary Sue and Obi-Wan exchanged helpless glances, then Obi-Wan ventured, "Just 'S,' I guess." Suddenly a wicked grin crossed Obi-Wan's face. "Sidney, eh? No wonder you didn't want to name our baby Sid."

Miriam turned to Maul with wide eyes. "Baby?"

"There was no baby," Maul growled.

Obi-Wan quickly added, "But he thought he was pregnant because a quack doctor told him he was. We even set up a nursery."

Miriam turned bright red and burst out laughing. After several minutes of hearty guffaws, she wheezed, "My nephew thought he was pregnant? Oy! I'm plotzing here!"

Obi-Wan turned to her with genuine alarm. "Do you need an ambulance?"

Mary Sue whacked Obi-Wan in the arm and said, "Perhaps we should go light on the Yiddish, hm?"


"Oh Maulie, it fits! You look so darling in that sweater." Miriam beamed.

All Maul could do was just glare over the top of the turtleneck that went up over his nose.

Mary Sue snorted, "Well, at least you'll be warm." She ducked the flying ball of waded up wrapping paper with ease.

"It goes with the leather trenchcoat you got him," Obi-Wan noted helpfully.

"Now what did Obi-Wan give you?" Miriam asked.

"Plstshn gmz," Maul said through the turtleneck.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and forcefully shoved the turtleneck down off Maul's face. "He said 'PlayStation games.'"

"But what was in those boxes with the pink wrapping paper and the interesting logo?"

"PlayStation Games!" the three of them said in unison, backing it up with a whammy.

"Oy." Miriam dug deeper into her bag. "Now Mary Sue, don't think I have forgotten you. Unfortunately I didn't have much time to shop, but I saw this and just thought of you."

"Oh Aunt Miriam you shouldn't have," she said in token protest as she ripped into the blue and silver paper. The stuffed doll within caused her to squeal with delight, "Oh how did you know!?!"

Obi-Wan paused from assembling his Lego droid (batteries not included) to look at the dark haired doll with the over-sized head and black and green dress with disdain. "Aren't you a little old to be playing with dolls?"

Maul leaned over, "Oh hey, cool. It's the pissed off one. Sabé? Saché? Settéé? I can never remember which PowerPuff Handmaiden is which."


There was a knock on the door just as Obi-Wan polished off the last dreidel cookie. Maul stomped to the door and flung it open. "What? Er, hello."

"My dear ward," Palpatine cooed, arm firmly around Qui-Gon's waist. "Cooking a Hanukkah meal? I could smell the latkes all the way across town. And is that a cashmere turtleneck?"

"Damn, I have the munchies," a glassy-eyed Qui-Gon sighed. "That smells good."

"Sidney?" Auntie Miriam called.

Palpatine blanched.

Auntie Miriam stormed the door. "Sidney! You trombenik. God forbid you get your own ward a mezuzah! Do I have to teach him everything? You're nearly as bad as our geshmat brother! Oy, I need this family like I need a loch in kop."

"Hello Miriam," Palpatine said, grinning unconvincingly. "I was just letting young Maul here make his own choices. And Samuel hasn't converted. Just his wife and daughters."

"Close enough! Mozmer."

"Now now, no need to get rude, dear sister. Now Maul, you wouldn't happen to have any latkes left, now would you?"


"Pity. Perhaps some brisket?"

"All gone, unless you want to fish some from the cat's bowl."

My Apprentice looked up and growled.

"No, that wouldn't be prudent. Did you make cookies?"

"The only one left is burnt. I need to recalibrate my oven."

Palpatine and Qui-Gon's stomachs both growled ominously. "Dude, I really have the munchies," Qui-Gon muttered.

Obi-Wan came to the door with a big smile across his face. "Here, have these," he said, holding out his store-bought box of macaroons.

"Mmm, macaroons!" Qui-Gon said as he stared longingly at the box.

Palpatine handed the box to him with a sigh and said, "Wipe them out. All of them. I'll just stand here in the doorway, dying of hunger, in the dark. Don't mind me."

"Next year on Coruscant, dude!" Qui-Gon said, flashing a peace sign, as Palpatine led him off.



"They're gone," Maul sighed with relief as he closed the door.

"Oh god," Obi-Wan groaned," I can't move."

"So Jedi, your stomach finally caught up with you, eh?" Maul sank down on the couch with him as the cleaning droids started the busy process of cleaning the kitchen. "Where's my fucking rubdown?"

"Just let me rest a sec, okay? I feel like I ate a ton of lead."

"There's hamster death gulps in the fridge."

"I'll get up and get them in a minute."



My Apprentice awoke from her mid-late evening nap, but kept her eyes closed. She'd accidentally seen one too many humanoid mating activities not to audibly check her surroundings before looking. Her ears swiveled, scoping out the situation.

But it was silent. Dead silent. No sounds of Force driven monkey love. No headboard thumpings. Nothing. If she reached out with the Force she, could hear that blasted hamster wheel squeaking next door, but...


The snore rattled around in her head, jolting her wide awake.

Maul and Obi-Wan were asleep on the couch. In opposite corners. Clothed!

NoooooOOOOOOOooooooo! All my plans! All my machinations! Gone to crap in the litter box.

She went to gracefully leap from her chair...


Oooff! I meant to do... oh nobody's watching, forget it. You know this patch of floor is rather comfortable. I think I'll stay right here and digest until I'm aerodynamic again.

And as she drifted off to sleep, a small group of creatures which had evolved from the pile of potato peels currently clogging up the sink drain assembled at the base of Mount DirtyDishes. They watched as their prophet walked down the mountain, two stone tablets in his arms (okay, they were really the snapped-off bowls of plastic spoons). Their prophet raised the tablets and said, "Hear now the eleven commandments handed down from the gods! The first commandment is, 'Thou shalt not have any gods before the Great Horned God and the Fluffy Paws of Death."

One of the assembled creatures leaned over to his neighbor and whispered, "No shit, Shylock."

"Hey! Pay attention! The second commandment is, 'Thou shalt not take the names of the Great Horned God or the Fluffy Paws of Death in vain."

"Or else what?" someone heckled.

"Else we face the wrath of the cleaning droid!"

The assembled masses suddenly got attentive.

"Let's see. Three through ten, yadda yadda yadda, 'Great Horned God coveting his neighbor's ass'...don't want to think about that one. Oh, here's a good one. The eleventh commandment is, 'Thou shalt run like hell to thy neighbor's apartment and apply for asylum before thy gods reawake from their food comas.'"

There were general whoops of assent from the gathered masses. Their prophet stepped down from the mount, parted the Red Shag Carpet (well, a spot on the otherwise black carpet where Maul had dropped a bottle of bleach after Sidious showed him where he wanted it applied), and they began the forty-minute trek to the promised land.

Photo gallery:

Maul in front of the menorah (87 KB)

A good Jewish Sith with his dreidel (68 KB)


Please be aware that there are often multiple spellings and translations of different Yiddish words. Here is only what is meant in this story. For more information I highly recommend Leo Rosten's The Joys of Yiddish or Joy of Yinglish or the Kosher Nosh's Yiddish Dictionary.

apikorous:     A skeptic, an agnostic, an atheist. [Yeah it started as a Greek word, but its Yiddish, really.]
bubbe:     Diminutive of bubeleh
bubeleh:     Originally meant Grandmother, but it's become so commonly used that it can just mean Darling, Sweetheart, Baby, etc.
chlopping:     Raining
dreck:     Shit, crap, badly written Star Trek episodes
driedel:     A 4-sided top with the Hebrew letters Nun, Hay, Gimmel, and Shin on the sides. The letters stand for "nes gadol haya shin" "A great miracle happened there."
geshmat:     A convert to another religion.
goy:     A Gentile, basically anybody who's not Jewish.
kvetch:     Here it's used as the verb "to gripe."
latkes:     Potato pancakes fried in oil. Food of the gods when done right. Makes your house smell like oil for days.
loch in kop:     A hole in the head.
Manishevitz:     Really sweet Kosher wine. Kinda like grape juice with a kick. Popular for use in pre-teen chugging contests at temple.
mashgiach:     An overseer who makes sure everything is kosher. (Okay I'm really using the definition liberally. It's the guy who inspects restaurants.)
mensh:     A truly good man. (Folks who win the Nobel Peace prize are menshen.)
momzer:     An untrustworthy person, a real bastard:    
nosh:     Just a nibble, a little snacking... like a 12 inch sub
oy:     Hell there is no translation for oy... it's just Oy!
oy gevalt:     My favorite definition of this came from Gene Wilder trying to explain the phrase to Harrison Ford in The Frisco Kid. It's kinda like "Oh Shit!"
plemenink:     Nephew
plotz:     Literally means to burst or explode. But you know when you laugh so hard your sides ache? That's plotzing.
putz:     You can't get more vulgar than this in Yiddish. It's kinda like jerk, asshole or prick, but a whole lot worse. You would not say this word around your Grandmother. (If you want to refer to the actual male organ, you'd use shmuck.)
shayget:     Non-Jewish male, usually young
shikseh:     Non-Jewish female, usually young
shite:     Okay it's not Yiddish, but if you don't know this one shame on you and go read immediately "Kenobispotting."
shmendrick:     A no-account, the opposite of mensh.
trombenik:     A braggart, a parasite, a phony... take your pick.
tuchis:     Tush, gluteus maximus, an ass you could really sink your teeth into... umm sorry, went overboard picturing who's tuchis we're talking about. Basically it's a butt.
vilde chayea:     A wild animal; an energetic child
yachne:     A gossip, a busybody
yarmulke:     A skullcap worn by observant Jews. It used to be only men wore them. But some modern women are wearing them now, especially female rabbis, cantors and students in Israel.
yentzer:     One who sleeps around, or a crook or swindler... they both seem to work here.
yontif:     Holiday
zaftig:     Women whom the fashion industry should be catering to. (e.g. Queen Latifah, Camryn Mannheim)



Email the authors

To the Chronological Story Index
To the Author Story Index
Return to the Sith Academy Homepage
Back to Siubhan's House of Horror