Recent content by Perla the Hutt

The Pool It was a nice quiet time in the throne room of Perla the Hutt, only she wasn’t in her casino ship, her yacht, her barge, her whatever-and-wherever-the-kriff-it-is, the Sable Chariot. Nyupe. Perla is currently in her other casino that maybe replaces the existence of her casino ship...

“FEAR ME FOR I AM THE MIGHTY THOR” The Quarren roared to the audience from the ring. His audience roared back, naturally, pulsating crazily, waving arms and even legs and whistling. Oh, kriff my leathery titties. Perla would be having none of this, nope. She needed that Quarren. Alive that is...

The music shifted again, viewscreen overhead of some obligatory choreography dancing. As the Toydarian bitch began to break down, Perla just cocked a brow at him like ‘What the kriff?’ Queue her companion’s spit and the licking of his lips as the other Hutt contemplated a few ways to flay an...

A foothold to begin with, a Hutt mentioned, a mere means to an end for a much larger goal. She was pleased to see that her companion could dream just as big and then some. One pleasing thing that the Wheel had going for it was being otherwise neutral territory for either Cartel and Empire...

They say that the Wheel is a monument to pleasure, risk and greed. They say a lot of things, whoever the karklefark ‘they’ are anyway. ‘She’ said the same of her ship, the Sable Chariot, a pleasure barge and a casino barge and a place to go play the way crime pays. This space station? Okay...

It was a warm morning on the beach. The sea was like a lullaby; a melody to the sky’s majesty so high, but quite like a mirror. Above and below were just as blue, where the welkin drifted with marbled clouds of seasalt; a marvel for the water. Kymmm, yes, must write that down. Perla the Hutt...

Okay okaaaaayyyyyy… Things were going smoothly on Perla's way to her casino down under. Down yonder, ahead, as servants did carry her in a litter, and they did so under pain of death. They did heave and ho and they did grip the handles of the makeshift carriage lest lungs burst. No matter, these...

Gravenell… City… Sliding tongue over teeth. Well, so to speak, at least. Kym what’s this new trickery? Perla the Great tapped a finger on her chubby chin as she wondered further on this matter. The invitation was plain as day, also like that lemon cake the baker, what’shisface, made. That was...

Ooooooooooooh OOOOOOOOOH Come see a Hutt move. Flabby fat in a gig ‘n’ groove. It's Perla the Hutt and then some! She’ll write her own book someday. About how to succeed in being a Hutt. Kark, only such scum will read it anyway. Memoirs of a Hutt—something such. She thinks about it, finger to...

Finally, they fixed the kriffing radio. No more music drifting from stereo. Just voices in a room—no music is IC. OOC is the tune—"Before the Queen". “Your Eminence.” Words unfurl As her lips curl. The lips on this one. Yes, on Perla the Hutt. My Eminence, is it, then? I can squash you like a...

The Pool The Throne Room Perla the Hutt Cheriss Zaia Krodas Cul Laaster Zad Ruzed An empty throne. No one sits on it. Where’d she go? Our Hutt woman. Here she comes again! There she goes again! Slithers, she comes! PERLA THE HUTT! “Where is that fool Bothan!? Oh what’s his name. Buffoon...

A Hutt thinks… ….Such…bugs... Such little things. To speak to me. Nunion’s on Mummy. Rubs his little tummy. Mah precious honey... But before her feet? Before that queen? With baby at teat? If...figuratively... Rancor meat. …Literally..? First the buckethead dared to speak. Mandalorian helmet...

Pyyyyyyyyyke… He was so silent. Those violet eyes… SUCH violence. Would he even survive the night? A Hutt might change her mind. For now she watched as a woman walked. …These boots are made for walkin'... Boots made for walking would tap over polished green black marble. No rug or carpet, and...

There are two figures beneath two eyes transfigured. They gaze upon the path laid out before thee. Corners of her eyes upon buttons tied to certain…things. Golden Eyes, the Golden Queen thinks, and who would dare to disagree? That Pyke might. Oooh, Pyke, how a Hutt hated the word! Pykes can...

She’s fat. She knows it. She doesn’t care. SO BLOW IT. She said that to the last man. He was a fat man. BLOW IT. Blew him out the airlock, heard her Nunion say “squawk!-squawk!-squawk!” Oh, yes, they flew like birds out the airlock, the enemies of this little miss. Except without wings…eh...