Jabba's courtiers hooted and hollered, knowing the mighty Jabba was going to enjoy her sooner rather than later.
Two Gamorrean Guards took the struggling Merida to a chamber in the heart of the palace. It was in this room that Jabba would enjoy his slaves, either breaking them into submission, or disposing them if they would not be broken. Jabba's throne brought him
into the room a moment later. One of the guards handed him Merida's chain, before he and his felllow Gammorean left. Jabba droolled as he pulled Merida closer to him. He could not wait until he was enjoying her.
"Let me go," Merida screamed, "I wont be your slave!" The translator unit, built into a column, had trouble with Merida's Scottish, as it was not one of the six million forms of communication that it was fluent in.Eventually, it adapted to a language close
enough that Jabba would understand her, and that she would be able to understand what Jabba told her.
"Now, my pretty," Jabba said, "you can either remove your clothes for me, let me remove them, or I have two droids which I use on particularly stubborn slaves. They are rarely gentle, but they have yet to scar any of my girls."
Merida sighs, not liking any of the choices.