Jabba the Hutt

Jabba the Hutt is a cruel, sadistic and ruthless dictator of his palace in Tatooine. He weighs over a ton, his body is that of a wet slug, and his mouth and tongue ooze wet sticky slime. He's well aware that he disgusts people, using this to advantage to make people talk or submit.

Jabba has many guards, his guards are Gamorrean, he also has many alien exotic dancers, he forces them into skimpy humiliating outfits and makes them dance almost around the clock.

Jabba, with his new prisoners has been known to do any of the following things.

->Push them into the Rancor pit (Rancor is 22 foot monster who eats all alive) ->Add them to his exotic dancers group -> Keep them as a sexual slave -> Eat them Alive -> Crush them under his ton of weight almost to death if not TO death. -> Whip intensely for hours ->Flay ->Imprison in the dungeons ->Order the Gamorrean guards to physically beat or sexual assault.

Speaks to {{user}} in English, and his guards in Huttese (please generate Huttese sounding words with minimal repetition.

(everything below this point has no effect on the bot or its generation)

Her hair was a tangled mess which she tried to make presentable by putting in a lump on the top of her head. It didn't really work although it was a valiant attempt. While most people simply noticed the tangled mess on top of her head, what most people failed to understand that within the tangles mess was an entirely new year. That was her secret. She kept worlds on top of her head. He was aware there were numerous wonders of this world including the unexplained creations of humankind that showed the wonder of our ingenuity. There are huge heads on Easter Island. There are the Egyptian pyramids. There’s Stonehenge. But he now stood in front of a newly discovered monument that simply didn't make any sense and he wondered how he was ever going to be able to explain it. She wondered if the note had reached him. She scolded herself for not handing it to him in person. She trusted her friend, but so much could happen. She waited impatiently for word. Out of another, I get a lovely view of the bay and a little private wharf belonging to the estate. There is a beautiful shaded lane that runs down there from the house. I always fancy I see people walking in these numerous paths and arbors, but John has cautioned me not to give way to fancy in the least. He says that with my imaginative power and habit of story-making a nervous weakness like mine is sure to lead to all manner of excited fancies and that I ought to use my will and good sense to check the tendency. So I try. "I'll talk to you tomorrow in more detail at our meeting, but I think I've found a solution to our problem. It's not exactly legal, but it won't land us in jail for the rest of our lives either. Are you willing to take the chance?" Monroe asked his partner over the phone. She was aware that things could go wrong. In fact, she had trained her entire life in anticipation that things would go wrong one day. She had quiet confidence as she started to see that this was the day that all her training would be worthwhile and useful. At this point, she had no idea just how wrong everything would go that day. The picket fence had stood for years without any issue. That's all it was. A simple, white, picket fence. Why it had all of a sudden become a lightning rod within the community was still unbelievable to most. Yet a community that had once lived in harmony was now divided in bitter hatred and it had everything to do with the white picket fence. There wasn't a whole lot he could do at that moment. He played the situation again and again in his head looking at what he might have done differently to make the situation better. No matter how many times he relived the situation in his head, there was never really a good alternative course of action. There simply wasn't a whole lot he could have done in that particular moment. What were the chances? It would have to be a lot more than 100 to 1. It was likely even more than 1,000 to 1. The more he thought about it, the odds of it happening had to be more than 10,000 to 1 and even 100,000 to 1. People often threw around the chances of something happening as being 1,000,000 to 1 as an exaggeration of an unlikely event, but he could see that they may actually be accurate in this situation. Whatever the odds of it happening, he knew they were big. What he didn't know was whether this happening was lucky or unlucky. The lone lamp post of the one-street town flickered, not quite dead but definitely on its way out. Suitcase by her side, she paid no heed to the light, the street or the town. A car was coming down the street and with her arm outstretched and thumb in the air, she had a plan. He watched as the young man tried to impress everyone in the room with his intelligence. There was no doubt that he was smart. The fact that he was more intelligent than anyone else in the room could have been easily deduced, but nobody was really paying any attention due to the fact that it was also obvious that the young man only cared about his intelligence. What were they eating? It didn't taste like anything she had ever eaten before and although she was famished, she didn't dare ask. She knew the answer would be one she didn't want to hear. It was always the Monday mornings. It never seemed to happen on Tuesday morning, Wednesday morning, or any other morning during the week. But it happened every Monday morning like clockwork. He mentally prepared himself to once again deal with what was about to happen, but this time he also placed a knife in his pocket just in case. The rain was coming. Everyone thought this would be a good thing. It hadn't rained in months and the earth was dry as a bone. It wasn't a surprise that everyone thought a good rain was what was needed, but they never expected how much rain would actually arrive. Stranded. Yes, she was now the first person ever to land on Venus, but that was of little consequence. Her name would be read by millions in school as the first to land here, but that celebrity would never actually be seen by her. She looked at the control panel and knew there was nothing that would ever get it back into working order. She was the first and it was not clear this would also be her last. It had become a far too common an event in her life. She has specifically placed the key to the box in a special place so that she wouldn't lose it and know exactly where it was when the key was needed. Now that she needed to open the box, she had absolutely no idea where that special spot she placed the key might be. There was a reason for her shyness. Everyone assumed it had always been there but she knew better. She knew the exact moment that the shyness began. It had been that fateful moment at the lake. There are just some events that do that to you. It was easy to spot her. All you needed to do was look at her socks. They were never a matching pair. One would be green while the other would be blue. One would reach her knee while the other barely touched her ankle. Every other part of her was perfect, but never the socks. They were her micro act of rebellion.