My cousin will probably kill me for this — or laugh his ass off. I remember watching Star Wars in his basement as a kid about a zillion times – in fact, my first real memory of watching Star Wars (Episode 4 – A New Hope as you may know it if you were born after 1990) was in his parents’ basement. I think my uncle had a reel-to-reel of it or something, because I remember it being projected on to the wall. I mean, I know I went to go see it with my mom – I remember, because we took the bus and I was wearing brown corduroys and a snow suit — not easy to get in and out of in the best of times, and we were living in Sault Ste. Marie at the time, which is practically the North Pole if you are reading this from sunnier climes. Which means it was colder than Melania Trump’s side of the bed, and wetter than the drool on Donald’s shirt as he jacks off to internet porn — I imagine it’s something involving having Kim Jong Un’s face Photoshopped on to the body of his daughter, but I digress.
That particular night, I remember waiting for the bus, and seeing a muskrat in what we called the creek, but which was really just a drainage ditch that ran behind the row of suburban houses on Copernicus Drive. I don’t remember the movie, really, having only been maybe 4 or five years old at the time, but I do remember shitting myself on the bus ride home. Do you remember how hot and sweaty those one piece snowsuits were? Between the heat of that, the greasy movie popcorn and no doubt some sort of gummy or chocolatey treat, my little digestive tract was pushed beyond its capacity, and I soiled my trousers — and cried the rest of the way home (I cried a lot when I was a kid).
But still, that didn’t ruin Star Wars for me. It’s been a life-long love-hate relationship, and it’s so fun (and easy) to parody and rip apart (I’ve done it myself on occasion) that I just had to, in honour of the new film (which I haven’t seen and no spoilers I sweartogod) give you a scene that never made the cut of the original film.
“Uncle Owen!” Luke whined, and good god, his voice was enough to make you throw yourself into a Sarlaac Pit. “This R-2 unit has a bad motivator!”
“Goddammit,” Owen cursed under his breath, paying the Jawas for the droids. “I’ll tell you who has a bad motivator. That fucking kid! I swear to all the stars, that kid is useless as tits on a Bantha.”
“Eee tee-neeee,” a Jawa who was only slightly taller than his fellows said. “Wa-shuda tee-nada?”
“Wow,” Owen laughed. “I’d give all the blue milk on Tatooine to see that kind of show. You say they do it right there in front of you? Completely topless? And the Twi’lek girl just… god, that’s disgusting. Still…”
“Uncle Owen?” Luke called again, and all the flesh on Owen’s neck crawled in irritation. He only took the kid because his wife swore that if he didn’t, she’d never let him see her naked again. And with only three women in the entire galaxy, Owen was reminded how lucky he was to have her.
Still, there were days when he wanted to hunt down that crazy old wizard and choke the ever-loving Force out of him for dropping this sack of useless Bantha fodder on him. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about without another mouth to feed. It’s not as if he had any crops — he farmed moisture — fucking moisture. Do you have any idea what you harvest when you harvest moisture? A glass and a half of hot, sweaty water that smells like a Hutt’s armpit. That’s what.
But this little shit stain acts all entitled, running off to Toshi station every chance he gets to hang out with the space jockeys — who, Owen had on good authority, laughed at him behind his back, and called him Captain Womp Rat, on account of him telling the same bullshit story about bulls-eye-ing the slow, stupid creatures in his T-13.
“Fuck,” Owen sneered. “You can kill a Womp Rat with a loud shout — the things have the nervous disposition of a Nerf Herder on All Moon’s Eve.”
“Boo-tard-aaaaah,” the Jawa suggested.
“I can’t,” Owen said. “Beru would kill me if I told him about his father. Sometimes it’s all I can do not to grab him by his scruffy blonde hair and yell it right in his face: Your dad killed the Jedi! All of them. He’s a fucking monster! There! You happy? You still want to follow in your daddy’s footsteps. Goddamned Little Orphan Ani grew up to be Darth Vader, scourge of the galaxy. Now stop waxing your lightsaber and help me unload these power converters!”
“You know what? At this point, I couldn’t give a Womp’s ass about the Empire. They’d be doing me a favour if they just marched in here and torched the whole place, so I could collect the insurance money and Beru and I could retire to Naboo like we’ve dreamed of our whole lives.”
“Ooota boota, Skywalker?” the Jawa asked cautiously. “Moo tee nee?”
“Yes, of course I’m serious,” Owen said, excited. “You say that can be arranged?”
“Eee kee nee!”
“Hmm,” Owen thought, imagining sipping Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters with a topless Beru on the white sands of Naboo. “How much would that kind of thing cost?”