I was unsure wether to post about this or not, but I suppose that the mystery of my absence can only be intriguing for so long.
You see, at first it was quite profitable. The food would wonder if the Sarlacc was still alive or not, would come to investigate and, encouraged by my apparent quiescence, would dare approach even closer and look down the Pit.
(That, by the way, is what the food calls a “smiley.” A Sarlacc Smiley.)
However, weeding out the curious left with only those who were not intrigued by prolongued silence. Hence, with the meager means currently at my disposal, I am typing this.
You see, when I decided to infiltrate the food world as a means of obtaining more food (that’s the ultimate objective of anything a Sarlacc does, by the way), I acquired one of these gizmos called “computers.” It was a curious, cluncky, noisy piece of food ingenuity, or so I thought.
Unfortunately, food technology can, apparently, go up in smoke in a very nasty and smelly fashion. It may have been that a Sarlacc’s stomach is not the best environment to keep them, it may have been the scorching desert suns and the sand, it may have been the errant blaster shot that got it on the side after a particularly lively struggle with an armed piece of food. The end result is that the tool I was using died out on me in a toxic cloud of noxious fumes.
I should have searched for a Sarlacc-grade computer.
I will have to attempt the repairs myself, I tried to get a food technician to do the repairs, but he did not get far. In my defense, it was his fault for looking so delicious.
In the meantime I have to confine myself to this other gizmo called the “cell phone,” and I suck at thumb-typing. Ever seen a Sarlacc with thumbs? Yes, exactly.
At least Twitter is easy to use from the phone… when using the built-in browser.
I swear, the food’s culture really confuses me.