In a galaxy far, far away

“Daddy, I can’t sleep … tell me a story … pleeeeeeease.”

“Try to think of something nice. Like, like, fairies, and butterflies.”

“You always say that butterflies are just overrated insects, that’s not nice, is it?”

“Well, no, I know. How about you think about, say, the Smurfs? They’re nice. And funny, remember how that one smurf always carries around those gift boxes that explode?”

“Yes. He’s Jokey Smurf.”

“Yes! What a funny guy!”

Garth Vader IV

“Tell me a story. Pleeeeeeease.”

“Fine. A short one. Here goes. Um, once upon a time, there was…”

“… No ‘once upon a time’.”

“One recent early morning…”

“No ‘one recent morning”, you’re not The New Yorker.”

“A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

“Yes!”

“OK. So, a long time ago … in a galaxy … far, FAAAAR away… EPISODE X!”

“Did you mean episode X or episode ten?”

“Ten, silly.”

“Why’d you say X then?”

“Because it’s more fun. So … FAAAAAR AWAYYYY … episode … TEN! (OK?) The next generation’s hope! Lucas Skywalker IV, that’s fourth, so he’d be Luke’s great-grandson, or maybe a nephew, because I guess he could be Leia’s great-grandson, too. Anyway, Lucas Skywalker – the fourth – had just intercepted a message from the Empress herself. He hadn’t been able to decode it yet, so he was on his way to planet Boomkah, to see if Ham Solo could help him.”

“Dontcha mean Han?”

“No, this is Ham, Han Solo’s relative. A cousin. He’s a smuggler, too.”

“Are you sure you can tell this story?”

“What do you mean? Of course I can tell you a story. It’s got everything in it.”

“I mean, are you sure you have the rights to this story. So that George Lucas won’t sue you?”

“I’m sure. It’s called creative license. And my story’s not Star Wars, it’s called Star Wash. Besides, I’m not going to tell him. Are you?”

“Nope, Dad. Never.”

“Fine, so … Lucas Skywalker landed on Boomkah, and hopped out of his X-wing. He went straight into the coffeeshop in which he knew Ham Solo would be working on his novel.”

“But you said he was a smuggler.”

“And a novelist. He had so much time when he had his Millennium Eagle on autopilot, or when Chewbucca was driving so he had started to write a little. Anyway, Lucas Skywalker walked in, and saw Ham Solo in the corner. It just so happened that it was Ham Solo’s birthday, and Lucas knew it, so he bought him a great big piece of cheesecake, before surprising him at his table. He and R2-D5 – the new model – sang to him, too. Ham Solo was really happy.”

“I want some action.”

“Just as Lucas had sat down and told Ham Solo about the Empress’s coded message, they saw stormtroopers at the door. Lucas used a jedi trick, and made them turn away. Then … then … Ham Solo typed the message onto his laptop and started to decode it. The message said…”

“What?”

“The message said, ‘Time to sleep, princess.’”

“But what did it really mean?”

“That was the message.”

“But what did it mean, uncoded?”

“Oh. Yes, so Ham Solo tried one thing but couldn’t crack it, and then another. And then he had an idea. What if … just what if … I need to wash the car to…morrow…”

“Dad! You’re asleep!”

“Nooo! Krhm, and then Ham Solo… asked Lucas Skywalker what his first pet’s name was and when he said C-3PO, Solo typed some more, and then got up and ran from the coffeeshop, and yelled, ‘Come on! I cracked the code. Deia is in danger!’” And Lucas followed him…”

“And R2-D5..”

“Yes, both of them. Aaaaand … TO BE CONTINUED. You know, your bed is really comfortable, baby.”

“Good night, Dad. Dad…?”

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