#it must be SO taxing being the hottest bitch alive

[littlemonstersau-blog]

The Feels Awaken, Part 2: The Fandom’s Menace

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

PART I - PART II [Interlude]  - PART III (you are here) - PART IV [Interlude]

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Soos, excitedly setting up everything: Dude, I knew exactly what we should watch as soon as Stan said “movie day”. The prequel trilogy of Cosmos Conflicts! I’ve been meaning to show you them since, like, the first time you said you love the first two originals movies, and even more since we all sat down together so you could finally see Return of the Jelived, Bitch! The prequels’re actually, like, seriously three of my all-time favorite movies ever.

Ford, actually smiling: Heh. I would’ve watched them before now— especially now that I know how keen you are to share them with me— except Dipper and Mabel would never let me. They kept saying they loved me too much to let me watch them, if you can believe it.

Soos: Well, I admit they’re not the most popular with fans, yeah, but that’s just ‘cause, like, most people can’t handle this much raw, concentrated awesomeness.

Melody, deadpan on the floor: Uh huh. That’s exactly what it is.

Soos: It’s like really spicy food; some people just don’t have a— whatcha call it?—sophisticated enough palette to appreciate the awesome sauce. Y’know?

Melody, still deadpan: Most just aren’t refined enough. For sure. Yep. That explains it.

Stan, entering TV room: I got drinks for everybody!

Bill, right after him: And I got the popcorn! Let’s jump right in to this glorious madness!

Melody, mildly surprised: You like these movies?

Bill, passing around bowls of popcorn: Absolutely! They’re one of the hottest messes in cinematic history!

Stan, passing around cups of soda: Mel, you sure you don’t want my easy chair? It’s no problem, really.

Melody: Lying flat is the best thing for my back lately. Besides, I can put my feet up in my honeybear’s lap while he rubs them for me.

Soos, genuinely happy at this prospect: Sure can, honeybadger!

Stan, taking his seat: Well, if you’re sure. C’mon, gremlin! [picks up Bill]

Bill, almost giggling: Whoahoho! Careful, I’m gonna spill!

Stan, setting Bill next to him (on opposite side of Ford): There. All comfy, kiddo?

Bill, deciding to settle in like a cat: Alright, yeah, I’m okay with this. Primo seating and everything!

Ford, making himself look straight ahead: Let’s start it.

TV: George Dufasfilms Ltd. and 20th Century Foxups presents … Cosmos Conflicts, Episode 1! The Phantom Nuisance! [fanfare theme song plays, prologue crawls upward]

Ford: Wait, what? “Turmoil has engulfed the galaxy because taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute”?! This is about freaking tax policy? And that leads to galactic turmoil?

Stan: Don’t know ‘bout you, but the IRS certainly causes me turmoil. [Soos stops rubbing Melody’s feet long enough to highfive him]

Ford, incredulous: This is a prequel, right? So why is all their tech more advanced? Why are there more and better droids?

Soos: Well, the Trade Union canonically uses droids more than other species. It only makes sense they’d create more advanced—

Bill: Because George Dufas has a robot fetish. That’s seriously why. He uses the entirety of this film like normal people use hardcore porn.

TV: Master, I have a bad feeling about this. TV: Be mindful of the Living Force, my rattail-coiffed padawan.

Ford: Pada-what-now? That’s not a word. Why didn’t they go with “apprentice” or—heck!—“squire”, since they’re Jelived Knights?

Soos: Shhhhh!

TV: Gee thanks, Master, that’s certainly helpful and not at all vague. That advice will definitely help me be a diplomat, even though Jelived like us are more like killer, magic samurai-priest-cops. TV: Indeed, my superfluously-ponybobbed padawan, which is why we have openly worn our iconic bathrobes and lasercutlasses instead of even the most basic of disguises. Letting the Trade Union know the Senate sent trained killers will surely put them at ease.

Melody: Nope, they’ll try to gas you both now. Good thing they kept all that toxic gas in their air vents.

TV: My fellow crafty and greedy Trade Unionist insectoids. First, I raise a glass to our race’s abandon of our native customs and tongue in favor of caricatures of antiasian stereotypes and accents. TV: Hear hear! TV: Second, we have done well in executing our secret Shit master’s evil plan to blockade this world of minor socio-economic importance (for some reason), and to kill those two Jelived. They must surely be dead by now, so let’s send in some droids to kill them further. TV: But, sir, they’ve only been in there for fifteen seconds. TV: OPEN THE DOOR, I SAY! AND SEND IN … FIVE DROIDS! TV: Sir, predictably, they weren’t dead, and destroyed the five droids. Now they are cutting through the door to our command center. TV: IMPOSSIBLE! SEND … TWO MORE DROIDS! NO, THREE!

Ford: Wasn’t the hangar full of battle droids?

Melody: Oh, the whole ship is. They just want the fight to be fair.

Ford: … what. [watches as Trade Union leader makes a call to Queen Imdolledupa] … What. [watches as she tells her council “I won’t condone actions that could lead Planet Baboon to war, even if we have been blockaded for months at this point and they’re clearly planning an invasion”] … What. [watches as invasion lands on opposite side of planet than cities] … WHAT.

Bill, grinning: Don’t worry. It gets worse. Much, much worse. Starting … right … now.

TV: Tank yusa for saving mesa from dose bombad battle droids, yusa Jelived who escaped da main starship by sneaky-sneaky on dat transport! Mesa love you! Mesa follow you forever and ever! TV: Master, I sense that this Jerkjerk creature will bring suffering to millions. May I please cut him down for the good of the Force? TV: No, my practically mulleted padawan. We need him alive, because … reasons. Probably related to merchandising. TV: Mesa take yusa to secret, bubble city of mesa people now!

Ford, through gritted teeth: Who the fffff … fuzz is that annoying frog-lizard-man, and why do I feel a collective unconscious urge to beat him to death with my bare hands?! Why aren’t the Jelived Force Choking him, or at least Mind Tricking him into leaving?

Bill: That is Jerkjerk Kinks, a monument to Dufas’s amphibian fetish and the first reason the Twins wouldn’t let you watch this movie.

Soos, defensively: He’s not that bad! He’s got a good heart!

Melody, sighing: Oh, my sweet, innocent, naïf honeybear …

TV: Boss Gass, even though you dislike the humans who invaded and colonized your planet, and even though you live completely apart from them in your Plasmatlantis, you are symbiotic with them. TV: Mesa tinking yusa no understand what “symbiotic” means. TV: Well, if you won’t help the humans, at least don’t kill Jerkjerk—

Ford, spitting out popcorn: YES, KILL JERKJERK!

TV: —because he owes me a life debt and is now basically my slave. Your gods and laws demand that his life belongs to me. TV: Mesa tinking it racist for yusa to claim to understand oursa laws and culture, white man. And to claim ownership of a sentient being (dat isn’t a droid). But yusa hair so fabulous and mesa so bored wit dis conversation, mesa give yusa Jerkjerk and submarine so yusa go. TV: Excellent. Now, to boat through the planet’s watery core.

Ford: … That is literally impossible. Even if the core was water, the center would be denser than rock because of all the pressure. [watches as ship navigates past giant sea monsters] There would be no light, no life, no nothing down there.

Soos, patiently: Yeah, but it’s fun. That’s what matters.

Stan: I like how they just happen to pop up in the capital city, and how nobody notices them, even though it’s occupied.

Bill: I like how the people of Planet Baboon put up absolutely zero resistance to the Trade Union’s invasion, despite all the forewarning they had since the blockade and from the invasion landing clear on the wrong side of the planet. If only Imdolledupa had been Mayor of Gravity Falls, am I right? Heh heh … heh … What? Too soon?

Ford, grimacing at Bill: Mmm …

Stan, patting him: Gremlin, it’ll prob’ly always be too soon for that.

TV: Master, there’s the Queen. How fortunate we came up next to her, and that the Trade Union decided to march her through the streets instead of simply landing a shuttle outside the palace. TV: Yusa big fortunate dey only escorted by six droids even dough hersa entourage has twenty people! TV: … Master, yet again I beg you to let me kill this irritating— and you’re already gone … and the droids are already dead. TV: Majesty, I am Jelived Master Leam-Nee San. Come with me if you want to Jelive. We’ll escape this planet, take you to the Senate, and tell them how heated this tax policy dispute has gotten here. TV: You arrived at a fortunate time, Jelived, because they were about to make me sign a treaty legalizing their invasion of Baboon.

Melody: ‘cause that’d be totally legit, right? No coercion at all.

Stan, nudging Bill, whispering: Maybe you should’ve forced Mayor Cutebiker to sign a treaty, eh?

Bill: Heh! But you just said—

Ford, grimacing at Stan: Mmm … [watches as they find an unguarded ship and fly straight at blockade instead of around it; ship gets away, but with hyperdrive damage] Okay, why is that Jelived—what’s his name? Yuan-Mac Gragor?— repairing the hyperdrive instead of a pilot? Is that supposed to be standard training for Jelived, or something?

Soos, shrugging: Seems like it’d be pretty easy to pick up to me.

Melody: Well, yeah, it would be for you, honeybear. Mr. Handyman with the magic fingers! Aw, yeah, that’s the spot … Keep rubbing …

TV: We can’t land on Hallowine, it’s controlled by Pitsa-Hutts! They’re gangsters! It wouldn’t be safe for Queen Imdolledupa! TV: I’m sorry, non-Jelived person, I couldn’t hear you over how luxurious my hair is. And I don’t care what you said anyway. Now, I’m off to buy us a hyperdrive. Time and stealth are of the essence, so naturally I’m going to take with me a slow-rolling droid, my frog-lizard-man slave who is so idiotic he will step in every literal and figurative pile of doodoo, and this willful teenage girl. TV: Master Jelived, not to question your wisdom, but— TV: Good. See to it that you never question any Jelived ever again, for we are infallible and will take off your head. Tata for now.

Stan: Why take Jerkjerk? D’you think he was hopin’ to sell him? Or maybe just ditch him?

Ford: Being amphibious, it’s likely the extreme heat and dryness might’ve proved fatal to him. Perhaps the hope was he’d drop dead.

Soos, whimpering softly: Why does everyone hate him? He just wants to help!

Ford, curtly: Because he’s the worst, Soos. He’s just … the worst. [watches shadowy Shit Lord Farth Sidious bitch at Trade Union for letting the Queen get away, then dispatches Farth Maul to fix it; watches heroes wander into a desert town on Hallowine]

TV: How fortunate the first shop we enter has a hyperdrive for sale. Now to use my Mind Trick on the disgusting, pig-butterfly proprietor without once having the least of scruples about how unethical that is. TV: Ha! Mind Tricks won’t work on me, only MONEY! I’m surprised you couldn’t tell from my Yiddish accent and hooked nose, human.

Ford, eyes wide in shock: Did they really just—

Stan, shaking his head: Moses—

Soos, blanching: Oh, yeah … I, uh, k-kinda forgot about him. Sorry, dudes. I guess all the lasercutlass duels and space battles made me forget about the, um, antisemitic stereotypes.

Ford: Not … Not your fault, Soos. We’ll just—

TV: Are you an angel? I know it doesn’t make sense that angels exist as a mythological concept in our galaxy, but you’re really pretty, so … I’m a slave, by the way. So is my mom, though you’d never know it since we dress like everybody else and get to walk around freely. I saved your frog-lizard-man friend thing from a brawl, by the way. My name’s Otherkin Skyjogger. I’m 9, but that doesn’t matter, angel. TV: I’m Padmy Resume. I’ll try to forgive you for saving Jerkjerk. TV: Is your friend with the magnificent hair a Jelived, angel? He has a Jelived weapon. There’s a sandstorm coming, even though the air looks exactly the same as it did a while ago, so you should all come have dinner at my place. My mom won’t mind, even though we have very little money for food, presumably, what with being slaves. TV: Why not? Story’s not going anywhere. I’ll get Leam-Nee San.

Bill, stifling a cackle at the next scene: (My favorite dialogue!)

TV: Queen, this is a holo-transmission from Baboon, even though we have no idea where your ship is because you’re hiding. Anywho, the Trade Union is awful, the death toll is catastrophic, the weather is a little humid. Please contact us; this is not an obvious ploy. Love ya, bye! … Wait, did I just say “love ya” to the Que— TV: I know I’m just a padawan with a pointlessly stupid haircut, but I’m gonna tell your planet’s leadership what to do now. *Ahem*. That was an obvious plot to learn where the Queen is. Don’t reply.

Stan: If I was that security office, I’d bitchslap that uppity teen.

Melody, warningly: Language.

Bill: Sorry, Mel, he meant to say “teenslap that uppity bitch”. [highfives Stan]

Ford: Pffhaha! *ahem* [watches Otherkin take them home and mother is all “Sure, why not? I’ll give room and board to three strangers who’ve taken a not-at-all unsettling interest in my prepubescent son. Now for a dinner chat!”] Wait, what? Did he seriously just say he’s the only human who can rocket-chariot race? But racing is just … racing!

Bill: He just wants to impress the “angel”, so he’s exaggerating. But she believes him even though he’s 9 and obviously has a crush on her ‘cause she’s kind of a Dumasc.

Melody, more warningly: Language.

Soos, reluctantly: Actually, he’s not swearing. It’s an in-canon term for “politician” ‘cause the galactic capital is on Planet Dumascent.

Bill: And it’s very political of her—gets them free room and board. Yep, that Dumasc ain’t no dumbass.

Ford and Stan, cracking up: Pfffhahahaha!

TV: There’s a problem, my should-just-get-a-buzzcut padawan. I found a hyperdrive, but couldn’t Mind Trick the owner to give it to me for racist and plot-related reasons, and it’d be unethical to just steal it (and I just can’t be unethical). Nor could I buy it with a promise of higher repayment next week from Jelived funds. But, fortunately, there’s a rocket-chariot race soon, and if this 9-year-old Force Sensitive I just met wins … we’ll get the money to buy it!

Stan, exasperated: What, does George Dufas also have a fetish for 80s sitcom clichés? Don’t answer that question, Bill.

TV: And I’ll win the kid as a slave—Jelived apprentice, I mean— because I unironically rigged a dice toss with my powers. I had to bet the Queen’s ship, but I’m sure she won’t mind if we don’t tell her. TV: Ah, but you’re going to use Jelived powers to rig the race, right? TV: What?! Never! That would be unethical and spoil the suspense! TV: … Master, I’m concerned your gambling addiction is— TV: What? Khshh! Can’t hear you! Khshh! There’s a sandstorm! Oh, also, I’m transmitting the kid’s blood sample through our radio. TV: That’s not how radios work, Master, but okay … dum di dim … Got the results, and this kid has more midi-chlorians than Yoda.

Ford, suspicious: What … are … those?

Bill, grinning: The second reason the Twins wouldn’t let you see this movie. Heh heh heh …

TV: My 9-year-old son is meant to help you in this dangerous race. It’s destiny, and stuff. That’s why I’m so criminally permissive. Oh, did I mention his conception was immaculate?

Ford, jumping up: WHAT?! JESUS CHRIST!

Bill, grinning: Exactly. Space Jesus Christ.

Ford: Does … Does this mean … midi-chlorians …

TV: Sir, you were talking to my mom about midi-chlorians? TV: Ah, yes, the omnipresent, microscopic organisms that confer the Force randomly upon some individuals, are not at all mystical or magical, and are probably your daddy, O Chosen One of the Jelived.

Ford, apoplectic: WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF—

Soos, whimpering softly: Oh, no! the Angry Words™!

Melody: Don’t you dare, Stanford Pines!

Ford, like a death metal singer: —UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU—

Melody: Don’t! You! Dare!

Ford: —NDAMENTALLY STUPID IDEA IS THIS CRAP?! AND HOW DOES FARTH MAUL KNOW TO CHECK THIS PLANET, BUT THE JELIVED DON’T SENSE HIS DARK PRESENCE?! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS BULLSHI—

Stan, as though his brother wasn’t screaming: Oh, look, Sixer. It’s time for the big rocket-chariot race.

Ford, breathing heavily: If this isn’t the best race ever, I swear … [watches race] Okay, yes, that was genuinely exciting.

Soos, relieved: Hooray!

Ford: Enough that I’m going to overlook the sabotage in front of a stadium of spectators, the fact it didn’t actually impede his winning, the ludicrousy of Otherkin catching up to but not passing his rival, and Java the Pitsa-Hutt being shown sleeping through the race. I mean, really? Why would you suggest your own film is boring?

Melody: To be fair, this is basically space NASCAR, and earth NASCAR is boringer than golf.

Ford, muttering to himself: More boring … Grammar …

TV: Alright, my shamefully beardless padawan, take the hyperdrive and everyone else back to the ship while I make Otherkin say goodbye to his mother forever and ever and ever. TV: About that, Master. Why don’t we just take her with us, too? I mean, slavery’s incontestably morally abhorrent, and we’re Jelived and can screw the consequences of most our actions. TV: What?! Never! TV: Because it’d be unethical to steal someone’s property, Master, even if that property is a sentient being? TV: Well, that, and we already have one major woman character for this whole trilogy. Why would we have more than one woman?

Melody: Grrrr, sexism … Makes me always hope Maul’ll kill him.

TV: Goodbye, son. Jelived, promise you’ll take care of my son? TV: What? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over how opulent my hair is. Anyway, tata forever. Come along, Otherkin. TV: I love you, mom! I’ll never forget you!

Stan, looking sideways in surprise: Gremlin, are … are you crying?

Bill, swiping at eyes: W-what, me?! No! Not like goodbyes’re s-sad! I just got, um, some g-glitter dust in my eyes … All Mabel’s fault the stuff is freakin’ everywhere in here …

Stan, putting an arm around him: Heh. Tell me about it, kiddo.

Ford, silently glancing sideways at Bill: (… hmm …)

TV: Excuse me, Yuan-Mac, but isn’t that a Shit Lord attacking your master right outside the ship? Shouldn’t you go help him? TV: I would, but this chair’s just too comfy. If I get up, you know Imdolledupa will steal it (that bitch!). Besides, look, Leam-Nee San got aboard the ship just fine. Oh *sigh* and so did his new slave boy. Guess I should go introduce myself to that homewrecking hussy— er, kid! I meant kid … Hello, Master and filthy slave boy. TV: Ah, my worst-hair-of-the-three-of-us padawan, meet my new younger and cuter padawan, Otherkin Skyjogger. The Chosen One. I’m sure you two will be best friends and as close as brothers. TV: Hi! (I’m daddy’s new favorite. Die jealous about it.) TV: Hi! (I will throw you into a volcano the first chance I get.) TV: I knew you two would hit it off. But I wonder who that person in black with a red lightsaber was who attacked me just now … Well, I’m off to bed. Don’t stay up too late becoming best friends.

Ford: Does he really not pick up on them hating each other then?

Soos, confused: What’re you talking about? They get really close.

Ford: Pff. Yeah, which is why Farth Vaper strikes him down in the original movie, right?

Stan: Eh, what’s a little strikin’ down between brothers?

Melody: “Space is cold,” Padmy Resume says to the kid. Like, don’t they have temperature controls in their ships?

Bill: Don’t forget, this was “a long time ago”. They hadn’t invented space heaters yet.

Ford: Ha! Haha—er, *ahem* that was … that was clever. [watches them land on Dumascent, a planet-wide city] That … is also impossible. Completely unsustainable. Without trees, how do they breathe?

Bill: They export all their CO and CO2, and import … everything, pretty much. Oxygen, food, water … It’s the reason they named the planet Dumascent; they’re all—

Melody, warningly: Don’t say it.

Bill, silently mouthing at Ford: (… dumbasses.)

Ford: Heh heh … [watches Imdolledupa’s retinue go with Baboon Senator Shiv Saltine while the Jelived threesome goes to the Temple and tests Otherkin]

TV: Esteemed fellow Senators, I haven’t made a big deal about it, because I kinda suck at my job, but Baboon was invaded recently. I now introduce Queen Imdolledupa and Representative Jerkjerk—

Ford, sarcastically: Well, he certainly is qualified.

TV: —who will speak on my planet’s behalf, thereby rendering my presence here as a Senator utterly redundant. Majesty? TV: I— TV: I’M THE SENATOR FROM THE TRADE UNION, BECAUSE IT TOTALLY MAKES SENSE A COMPANY HAS EQUAL REP WITH INHABITED PLANETS, AND I NOW FORMALLY MAKE A MOTION OF “SHUT UP, BITCH”! TV: Motion is seconded. The bitch is hereby required to shut up. TV: … Okay, y’know what? Screw y’all bureaucrats. As queen, I raise my planet’s middle finger at all of you. Now, I’m going back to do what I should’ve done months ago … fight the invaders! TV: Mesa going wid you? TV: Sure, why the space heck not?! We’re out. Peace between worlds!

Melody, raising a fist: You go, girl! Better late than never!

Bill: And the moral of the story is that democracy doesn’t work.

Ford, dubious: Thank you, Farth Cipher. Anyway, if we get lucky, Jerkjerk will die painfully in the coming battle.

Soos, whimpering: He’s just doing his best!

TV: Spoken, the Jelived Council has (meaning a decision, I’ve made with Master Sa-Myul Jaxon, which abide the other masters will, if what’s good for them, they know). Your padawan, Otherkin won’t be. TV: Master Jaxon, for clarity’s sake, could you explain why not? TV: Our code forbids someone as old as he is be trained. For reasons. Our code forbids you having two padawans at once. For reasons. TV: And much fear in him, we sense. Which bad, always is. TV: But, Master Yoda, his midi-chlorians—

Ford, jumping up: RRRAAAAAARRRGHGHGHGHGHGH!

TV: —and he’s the Chosen One prophesied to bring balance—

Ford: WHO EVEN MAKES THESE PROPHECIES?!

TV: —and it’s kind of hypocritical of you to say his fear is bad even as you are all too afraid to let train him be trained. TV: Clutching my pearls, I now am! A scandal, this is! TV: The council forbids you training him, Leam-Nee San. TV: Huh? Sorry, Master Baldy, I couldn’t hear you over how sumptuous my hair is. Oh, and now my middle fingers are up for some reason. Strange … Well, better go train Otherkin. I’ll start by taking him to the soon-to-be Baboon warzone. Tata, bitches.

Bill: I guess we call that Leam-Nee San’s act of … HAIResy!

Ford and Stan: Pffhahaha!

Melody, annoyed: The prophecy (we almost never hear about again) is to bring “balance to the Force”, right? Why do none of them ever consider that might signify strengthening the Dark Side? I mean, Jelived are kinda dominating the galaxy right now, and are always trying to stomp the Shit out of existence.

Ford and Stan and Bill, uncontrollably: Hehehehehehehe!

Soos, plaintively: Why must we always question it, dudes? Why can’t we just enjoy it?

Stan: ‘cause they’re flyin’ back to the planet without any trouble. Look, the blockade is gone. Where the heck did it go?

Bill: They got sucked into a black plot hole. Lots of those in space.

Ford: And they just happen to land in the swamp right where all the frog-lizard-men are hiding?

Bill: Don’t forget George Dufas made good actors act woodenly. See?

TV: Boss Gass, I woodenly beg you to help us. To be our allies. After this, we’ll return lands and first-class citizen status to you, even though your people are slimy and inferior non-humans. TV: Hmm … Wesa live in a bloody swamp. Wesa need all the land wesa can get. Okay, wesa fight wid you, and Jerkjerk is a general.

Ford, sarcastically: Well, he certainly is qualified.

TV: The plan’s for us to sneak into the palace via secret passages that of course it has. While one team seizes the Trade Union leader, 12 pilots will take on the blockade that just barely reappeared. Well, it’s just one ship for some reason now and not a blockade. So, yeah, 12 should be enough. Meanwhile, Boss Gass’s and *snicker* General Jerkjerk’s armies’ll be a cannon fodder distraction. TV: Mesa have no qualms wid taking on a better armed force. TV: Good, because you blinked and we’re in the palace already. TV: Oh, blast. I was going to leave you on the ship, Otherkin, but the Queen scene-transitioned us here too quickly. Okay, listen. I want you to find somewhere safe to hide, alright? TV: Yes, daddy. I mean, Master Leam-Nee San. TV: Uh, daddy—I mean, Master? That Shit from Hallowine is back. Should I have the Queen’s troops gun him down? TV: No, my why-didn’t-you-get-a-haircut-on-Dumascent padawan, we will seductively slip out of our Jelived bathrobes and duel him despite his badass, double-ended lasercutlass. BONZAI!

Ford, excited: Finally, the good stuff! [watches movie cut back to Jerkjerk; his people’s shields stop blasts, but not droids and tanks rolling right through them] … what. [watches Otherkin hide in a ship, activate it on accident, fly it into the heat of a space battle on accident, not get shot down but rather shoot down bunches of droid ships on accident—because the Force and because rocket-chariot racing and because fuck the audience— “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ll try a spin; that’s a good trick.”] … What. [watches Jerkjerk shoot more enemies than all the stormtroopers in the original trilogy combined on accident, explode some on accident] … What. [watches Otherkin crash land inside the Trade Union ship on accident blow up its power core or something on accident, escape on accident] … WHAT.

Soos, unironically: Hooray for Jerkjerk! Hooray for Otherkin!

Ford: Boo for Jerkjerk! Boo for Otherkin! Why aren’t they dying?! [throws handful of popcorn at screen]

Bill, excitedly joining in: Woooooo! Anarchy in the living room!

Ford, ranting: Why are all the droids shutting down?! Why would anyone design battle droids without independent operating systems?! Why isn’t there at least one other battleship with a backup for them?! And where the fffff-funky music is my lasercutlass duel?! [watches Queen’s retinue capture the Trade Union leaders “Your invasion of the planet we invaded is over, immigrant sc … um, I mean, Asian sc … uh, no, that’s much worse … Well, anyway, it’s over, you scum who aren’t white or that token black guy!”]

Stan, blinking in surprise: I don’t remember this movie bein’ so racist the first time I watched it. Was it always like this?

Ford, throwing more popcorn: Get to the Jelived already! [watches legitimately epic duel with great choreography progress from starfighter hangar into some sort of massive power plant] … What is a power plant doing inside the palace?

Soos: Shhhh!

Bill: Well, on Baboon, the palace is the seat … OF POWER!

Ford: Ha! Indeed … Wait, why is there a corridor of laser doors? And who’s turning them on and off? Are they on an automatic timer, or something? That’s a terrible security design.

Stan: Especially since what they’re guarding is just a dead-end room with a gaping, bottomless pit.

Bill: Lady and Gentlemen, I give you … the movie’s plot hole!

Ford and Stan: Pffhahahahaha!

Soos: Guys, c’mon! You’re spoiling the emotional climax!

TV: Da—I mean, Master, I’m stuck behind a laser door! Hold on! TV: Not to worry, I’ve got this well in hand, my less-than—Gah! Oh, look at that … I’ve been impaled … Huh … Down I fall … TV: DAAAAADDDDDDYYYYY!

Ford, surprised: Wow … I actually am moved right now … [watches Yuan-Mac Gragor attack once door opens, get kicked into the pit but catch onto a convenient pipe thing or something]

TV: It’s over, Jelived. I, Farth Maul, have the high ground. TV: What a stupid thing to say, Shit Lord murderer! You will pay!

Ford: But how can Yuan-Mac Gragor possibly defeat him now? [watches him connect with the Force and do a flying backflip while drawing the lightsaber to him … and cutting Maul in half] OH, BULLSHIT!

Melody: STANFORD PINES!

Ford: The whole fight scene was the coolest except for that ending! Maul just stood there with his guard down let himself get killed off like a little bit—um … idiot. A genuinely intimidating villain, gone without a chance to develop, and in the least satisfying of ways!

Bill, casually: It was assisted suicide, really, ‘cause he couldn’t bear to live any longer in a universe where George Dufas is his god.

TV: Daddy! Master! I’m here! Hold on, please! TV: Listen … my first padawan, my first son … you must train him. Otherkin is the Chosen One … will bring balance to the Force … TV: I promise. No matter what. TV: And you must … get rid of that rattail, grow a proper mane … It’s important … for being a badass Jelived who don’t give a crap … TV: I will. The most magnificent mane ever, I swear. TV: Finally … most importantly … make sure to bury me … with winged eyeliner … *death rattle* TV: NOOO! I mean, I’ll do that, yes, of course. But NOOOOOOO!

Soos, tearing up: *sniffle* He was such a good Jelived.

Bill, evilly: I think you mean “Jedied”.

Ford and Stan: Pffhahahaha!

Bill: And don’t you meatbags usually consider owning slaves to be something that disqualifies a person from being good? Like, he had two of ‘em. Speaking of, you think this means Yuan-Mac Gragor inherits Jerkjerk? Is he legally permitted to euthanize him now?

Melody, considering that: I think the life debt is fulfilled now.

Soos, muttering: (You dudes all suck …)

TV: Come to Baboon, I have. Along with Senate soldiers to arrest the Trade Union (now that matters, Senate involvement does not). TV: Thank you, Master Yoda. That means a lot during my grief. TV: Out of pity, promote you to Knight we do. Also, more impressive than our lame, traditional trials killing a Shit, we consider. So … TV: And may I take Otherkin as my padawan? Just so you know, I made a deathbed promise to train him, so I’m going to anyway. TV: Changed their minds for no reason, the other councilors did. Little bitches, I consider them to be … But no reason, I have really to oppose his training. Other than that grave danger, I fear in his training for us all. For foreshadowing purposes, you understand. TV: Aren’t you always saying “fear leads to the Dark Side”? TV: Like your master, you are. Meaning go screw yourself, you can.

Stan: Convenient decision, ain’t it? Oh, time for the funeral.

Bill: I’m always amazed and, to be honest, a little jealous at the caliber of the winged eyeliner they get on Leam-Nee San.

Stan, shaking his head: Can you believe Yoda and Sa-Myul Jaxon are discussing Jelived business during the guy’s funeral? That’s just inconsiderate, is what that is. And why would the Shit follow that rule of two, anyway? I thought they were anti-Jelived.

Soos, dismal but unable to not answer: ‘cause they know treachery’s gonna happen sooner or later. One apprentice means only one person to keep an eye on.

Ford, derisive: Why not? Makes as little sense as everything else. Oh, they’re having a parade now. And … there’s a glowing orb? Why is the Queen giving a glowing orb to Boss Gass?

Bill: For his coffee table. It’ll make a great conversation piece.

Ford: Or would, except he’d then have to tell this awful story. Just awful … But the rest of the trilogy, it has to be better, right? It couldn’t possibly be worse.

Bill, smiling evilly: Heh heh heh … You say that now …

Soos, sulking: … I guess if you wanna watch ‘em, we can.

Melody, picking up on her husband’s dejection: Can we leave the movies with them, honeybear? I’m starting to not feel well.

Soos: Uh, sure thing, honeybadger, if you like. [gets up, helps her up, goes out the door with her] Um, see you dudes tomorrow!

Stan, with a tinge of regret: Y’think maybe we hurt his feelings raggin’ on the movies so much?

Ford, realization dawning: He … He did say they’re three of his favorite movies. Though I fail to understand why or how … All the same, perhaps I was being insensitive … again … [sighs, shrugs] Oh well. He’s not here anymore, so I suppose we can be as unbridled in our ragging as we want. And tomorrow, we’ll make it up to him. Somehow … Shall we put in the next one?

Bill, excitedly: 79 Hecks yeah! Oh, wait, they’re both gone now.

All three together: We can swear for real!