It is a little known fact that Sarlacci have very good memory. The reasons this fact is not too well known are twofold: one, not many foods survive close encounters with a Sarlacc often enough to notice this fact; two, our long-term memory, as everything else on an advanced and streamlined, efficient, and superior organism such as ourselves, is extremely selective when it comes to remembering lesser things, such as individual food items.
A short few years ago, I was humiliatingly taken advantage of by a piece of food. It is a heavy thing to admit; imagine that… well, whatever you food items eat regularly, suddenly finds a way to completely immobilize you and starts prodding your tentacles for fun.
Somehow, I don’t think the food will grasp the analogy.
This was the situation I found myself in back then. It was a day like any other, some floating box above me threw down some food they wanted to dispose of and, in a rare show of good will, I obliged and ate it without delay.
It wasn’t alive, unfortunately, but it was a fresh kill nonetheless. I detected a slightly odd smell, which was followed by a slightly odd flavour. I didn’t think much of it, but a few instants later I found myself extremely tired, I couldn’t move a tentacle or even protrude my tongue. I could feel the vibrations well enough, though, and I felt the conversation on the box above me clearly:
“Took long enough! I’ll be right back.” One of the foods said; there were only two of them I could feel talking.
“This is a bad idea Nimeo.”
“Listen, it’s the perfect plan. The Sarlacc neurotoxin is not only extremely potent, but also has no antidote. It’s the perfect weapon for capturing live bounties.”
“Messing with a Sarlacc is always a bad idea!” The second food retorted, in an uncommon show of superior intelligence.
“Oh do shut up! Just lower me.”
When the food came down, it started probing my tentacles with some sharp implement, and I assume (though I could hardly feel it) it took some of my precious body fluids for itself. Yes, it was quite humiliating, but not as much as the comments it made about me and my uselessness, punctuated by a few stinging blaster shots on my second tentacle.
It left soon after that, but the pain did not. Not the physical pain from the pathetic little wounds, you understand. Oh no, this was deeper, I seethed for months just thinking of it. And I remembered.
You can imagine, then, that I was quite surprised when today I felt the same strange flavour from a food thrown at me from a floating box again. This time I didn’t simply lay down, I tried to recoil back into my home and collect all my tentacles close together around my maw. However, before I could completely burrow, I had stopped moving and lay motionless on the sand.
The food made some comment about my stupidity for falling twice for the same trick, and lowered itself down to my home. A similar conversation as before, only this time it commented on how effective the neurotoxin had been so far for completely paralyzing their victims, and it began prodding my fourth tentacle.
Of course it is effective. It is made by a Sarlacc.
I, however, could not compliment the food for its perfection on anything they did. Their eyesight was, if their actions are an indication, not too sharp, as they couldn’t distinguish between a Sarlacc chewing his food and a Sarlacc only pretending to chew his food. Their minuscule brains were not good enough at decision making to keep their floating box beyond the reach of a Sarlacc spitting rotten or poison-laced food at high speed, high enough to force the box to crash. And their instincts were not developed enough to distinguish between a truly inert tentacle and one that is merely laying motionless waiting for prey.
Do you know what other method works just as well as my neurotoxin to keep prey immobile? Ripping all its limbs off. A practical lesson I’m sure the food will have time to appreciate while I digest it.