In a fight, who would win - Darth Vader or Count Dracula?
by John Barefield
I think, based on computer and statistical analysis, that a fight to the death between The Dark Lord and The Dark Lord would go something like this:
It is a dark and stormy night in Transylvania, ca. 1900. In the background, dark and mysterious, is Dracula’s Castle, looking kind of like that one in Disneyland, only, like kind of like, black? And like, all creepy & stuff? Y’know?
In the foreground can be seen the latest Imperial T.I.E. fighter, with the very trendiest fashions in wing design. From within can be heard a familiar basso profundo.
VADER’S VOICE: Admiral Dzyerkoff, your piloting is worse than my breath. This is the wrong galaxy, and the wrong epoch!
ADMIRAL’S POSHY ENGLISH ACCENT (filtered, choking):Argghlg. Lord Vader, I didn’t realize that even you could choke someone to death over a voice-only communication line.
VADER’S VOICE: Never underestimate the power of the Force.
ADMIRAL’S POSHY ENGLISH ACCENT (filtered, choking): Arrgglggkkglthp! Words to live by, m’lord! (sound of corpse thudding heavily to the deck.)
VADER’S VOICE: Never trust Hyperspace navigation to an extra!
Sound of a clanking knock on the exterior of Vader’s vessel.
VADER’S VOICE: It’s occupied!
Enter Dracula, circling around from in back of the T.I.E. fighter. He stands on tiptoe, trying to peer into the fighter’s windshield.
DRACULA (in the heavy Hungarian accent of Bela Lugosi): I beg your pardon, but your, ah...er... vehicle seems to have crushed my stagecoach. Pretty careless of you I must say. Would you mind getting out so that I can suck all of your blood out?
Enter Vader, emerging from a hatch on the underside of the craft.
VADER: I will be requiring some deuterium, a small block of perhaps 27 dkg, for the repair of my navigational systems, damaged by your primitive atmosphere’s electrical disturbances.
DRACULA (with hypnotic motion of the hand): Look into my eyes, stranger! Look into my eyes and obey!
VADER (with hypnotic motion of the hand): You will bring me the deuterium now!
DRACULA (with more elaborate hypnotic motions of the hand: You will obey me!
VADER (also with more elaborate hypnotic motions of the hand): No, you will obey me!
DRACULA (continuing the useless wrist excercise in a continuously more ostentatios manner) : No, you!
VADER (using both hands now): No you!
DRACULA (joining both wrists high above his head and wriggling them frantically like flags in a hurricane): You!
DRACULA (wiping his forehead): Whew!
VADER (taking out an asthma inhaler, taking two quick puffs and stashing it away again, adjusting a dial on his chest): You aren’t very cooperative, if I do say so.
DRACULA: You are powerless to resist me!!!!
VADER: I find this lack of faith disturbing.
DRACULA (temporarily forgetting to speak in his outrageous accent): Okay bud, we’ll do it the hard way.
Dracula attempts to overpower Darth Vader. Vader resists. They topple over, and begin rolling back and forth on the ground, soiling their capes.
VADER: Gosh, you’re pretty strong.
VADER: Actually I must admit that I thought it would be a breeze overpowering you. You have no aura in the Force at all. About as much as a stone.
Through all of this, they continue grappling crazily on the ground.
DRACULA: Probably because I’m undead. What’s the secret of your great strength, if that isn’t a personal question?
VADER: Not at all. My strength flows from the force, an energy field that surrounds us penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together. Plus, I’ve got like, bionic arms or something.
DRACULA: That’s interesting. I’m King of the Vampires.
VADER: Really? That’s nice. I’m a Lord myself. Always nice to meet royalty.
DRACULA: A Lord! When I was alive, I was a count.
VADER: Actually, I must say I like your style.
DRACULA: Me too yours.
VADER: Thanks. I admire your tailor. Nice cape. Where’d you get it?
DRACULA: There was a master tailor in Vienna who specialized in silk. I murdered him and now he’s my blood slave. He makes all of my stuff. And yours?
VADER: It’s Danarbian Deathspider’s silk from Kessel. The best.
VADER: Say, If I kill you, can I enslave your tailor?
DRACULA: Sure! He works best at night though.
VADER: No prob. If you kill me, you can have my whole collection.
DRACULA: Really? Thanks!!
VADER: Don’t mention it. Too bad there’s not much chance of your collecting. Because there’s obviously no way to know which of us is stronger, the contest will have to be decided in some other way, so I’m afraid I’ll be cutting you to ribbons now.
DRACULA: Not if I grapple both of your hands.
Vader’s lightsaber jumps into his hand by itself, of course, and Vader cuts off Dracula’s arm.
VADER: All too easy.
DRACULA: I hope that’s not the best you can do.
Dracula bends over, picks the arm up, and puts it back where it goes, where it instantly bonds with the wound and sticks there (like in Interview with the Vampire).
VADER: Oh, well what if I do your HEAD next?
Vader tries to cut of the vampire’s head, but he turns to smoke at the last minute.
VADER: Cool! Not even the Emperor can do that!
Dracula resolidifies several meters away.
VADER: Impressive! Most impressive! Obi-wan has taught you well—er...I mean uh...How about if I do my classic maneuver? (makes ominous gesture with his hand.)
DRACULA: What are you doing?
VADER: Uh...choking you, I think. Can’t figure...(shakes his hand a few times to get it working , tries again.)
DRACULA: You’re wasting your time; vampires don’t breathe.
VADER: Darnit. Well, I can’t hurt you, and you can’t hurt me. It’s a standoff.
A large lighting bolt comes down from the sky (like in X-Men) and partially fries Vader.
DRACULA: How’s that?
VADER (like, all kind of smoking and fucked up): Not bad.
DRACULA: There’s plenty more where that came from.
VADER: Don’t bother. Now that I’m like, forewarned and stuff? I can just block it with the Force. Whatever gets through, I’ll just block with my lightsabre.
DRACULA: But I thought the Emperor totals you in the end with a lightning bolt.
VADER: Yeah, but those are generated by the Force. I can’t block THOSE using the Force if the EMPEROR is sending them fer Chrissakes.
DRACULA: I get it.
VADER: But you’re welcome to try. Our special effects budget is nowheres near getting used up.
Dracula tries it, and of course, Vader blocks it just like he says.
VADER: Hmmm... Let’s see, what other powers do I have?
They rub their chins for a while.
VADER: Howabout this?
Vader halfheartedly makes another gesture, and rocks, stumps, stagecoach parts and all kinds of crap fly at Dracula.
DRACULA (pieces all clunking harmlessly off): Oh, please.
VADER: Sorry. But if I had thought to cut off your head, you’d be dead now.
DRACULA: And If my lightning bolt had struck your life support system, you’d have wheezed yourself to death.
VADER: Oh, yeah.
They think for a couple more minutes.
VADER: I’ve got one! Count...I—AM YOUR FATHER!!
DRACULA: Oh, go on.
VADER (pathetically): No, really! Uh...search you feelings! You know it to be true!
DRACULA: It’s not working.
VADER: Oh. Uh... (gets a crafty look in in his lenses, peers sidelong at drac) Turn to the Dark Side?
DRACULA: I’m already Evil.
VADER: Oh, yeah.
DRACULA: I’ve got an idea.
VADER (eagerly): What is it?
DRACULA: Come my servants! Come!! Commmme!!!
Three vampire bitches rise from their unholy graves, all sexy and beautiful and dirty and disgusting, w/ blood-dripping fangs, etc.
VADER: Cool. Undead bimbos from hell. I wonder if THEY can turn to smoke.
Darth Vader cuts off the vampire bitches’ heads.
VADER: guess not.
VADER: Gosh, I didn’t know we were allowed to call our MINIONS into play.
DRACULA: Well, why not?
VADER (pressing a little doohickey on his chest): Admiral Dzerkoff?
FILTERED VOICE: Admiral Dzerkoff is dead, sir.
VADER: Oh, yeah. Well, who am I speaking to?
FILTERED VOICE: Deck Boy... er.. I mean ADMIRAL Twaddle, sir.
VADER: Well Twaddle, Blast everything on this continent more than two meters away from me with level two blasterfire.
DECK B—ER, ADMIRAL TWADDLE: O.K.
VADER: No, wait—make that everything except my T.I.E. fi—
Everything lies in ruins—no more castle, no more ship, just a pretty charred Sith Lord.
DRACULA’S HEAD (lying all kind of like burned up and smoking and stuff in the filth): O.K. my capes are all yours. But I’m afraid they’ve all been burned up, along with the tailor.
VADER (scratcing his helmet): I hadn’t thought of that. Oh, well, I’ll get something off the rack.
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