Oh man, I cannot believe I’m about to explore Dagobah. Finally—after all that shit with the second Death Star, balance is restored to the motherfucking Force. Now that it’s safe, I’m gonna tour the galaxy and take in the sights. Tatooine, Hoth, Endor…not gonna lie, I’m a giant Luke fan-boy.
I throttle my X-Wing, easing it onto the swampy terrain. Pop the cockpit, climb down the ladder, then make my way toward Yoda’s hut. I stop outside, put my hands on my hips, and study the exterior with an appreciative gaze. Bad. Ass. This is where Luke trained in all the cool stuff. Telekinesis, one-armed handstands…
My thoughts are interrupted by frantic grunts, interspersed with curses and desperate moans. What the fuck? I unholster my blaster and start creeping forward. Who the fuck is inside that hut?
I part the vine-draped entrance with the muzzle of my blaster, hunkering down to accommodate the low-built ceiling. As I round the corner, I spot a robed figure crouched on his haunches, pumping away like a horned-up monkey. He’s saying something about Lannisters…
“Hey!” I yell. “What the fuck are you DOING?”
As the guy falls backward, his dick plops out of a hole in the melon. Cinnamon buns are glued onto either side, and a winking smiley-face is drawn onto its surface. My mind goes blank, stunned by the depravity unfolding before me. It takes a couple of seconds to realize…
“LUKE?” My mouth drops open.
The Jedi master yanks up his pants. “Never go full Lannister! I mean…who are you? What are you doing here?”
My eyes drift over to the desecrated melon. Cinnamon buns, smiley face….
Oh no. GROSS.
“You…” I look at the melon in disbelief, then back at Luke. “Leia…” I shake my head, disgusted and shocked.
“No!” he protests. “We kissed on the Death Star—that was it! NEVER go full Lannister!” A second later, his expression hardens. “I can’t let you live.” He reaches out with a hand, cutting off my air with his Force-trained mind.
“HKKK…” My blaster tumbles from my weakening grasp. Black walls begin closing in, hazing the edges of my sight with impending oblivion.
Fuck it. No options left. So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its hidden reality-distortion powers. Magic flash.
Space-time wrinkles, forming a radiant eddy off to my left. Mace Windu steps out from its locus, staring incredulously at me, Luke, and the Leia-melon.
“HEY!” he yells. “Get yo’ melon-fucking mind off this GODDAMN BYSTANDER!”
Luke releases me and I drop to the floor, gasping and clutching at my ravaged neck. “Mace!” He raises both hands, palms out. “I can explain! Just—”
“I told you before,” Mace growls. “I don’t give a shit about the alien titties, but you keep on with this incestuous melon-fucking, and I will go Old Republic on yo’ sister-kissing ass.”
“Last time!” Luke blurts. “I swear!”
“It better be.” Mace’s eyes widen into his trademark glare. “Come on.” He jerks his head at me. “Time to vamoose.”
As I follow behind Mace, he spares the hut a disgusted glance. “Melon-fucking sister-kisser.”
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