[CASTLE FORRESTER - We see Pearl & Brain Guy, wearing hard hats. There's
a little tiny hard hat over Brain Guy's brain, too!]
PEARL: Hi, Nelson Bergeron - mechanical contraptions. Love to chat, but
we're in the middle of a monkey emergency here.
[SOL]
CROW: A *monkey* emergency?
MIKE: Is something wrong with Bobo?
[CF]
OBSERVER: That's one way of putting it. You see...
PEARL [suddenly yelling toward offscreen]: C'mon. get outta there, you!
BOBO [OS]: I'm almost done!
[SOL]
ALL: Ewwww!
[CF]
PEARL: Not *that*, you yerks! Explain it to 'em, Brainiac.
OBSERVER: Well, for some reason, shortly after breakfast Bobo started
worrying that his Professorial skills are atrophying, so he
locked himself in the laboratory and started trying to invent
something - *anything*!
[SOL]
TOM: He's taken himself hostage! Cool!
MIKE: I think I saw this on "Voyager" a few weeks ago.
CROW: Well, yeah, but *everything* eventually winds up on Voyager, Mike.
[CF]
PEARL: Worse, it turns out when J. Fred Muggs there gets frustrated, he
starts lobbing around anything not nailed down.
OBSERVER: [Various crashing sounds offscreen, followed by Bobo screeching
franticly] As you can hear, he hasn't had much luck trying to -
[Suddenly, a piece of random debris flies past his head] Oh, my!
PEARL: That's it! I'm going in before he trashes the joint! Brain Guy,
you better hightail it for the storm cellar.
[SOL]
CROW: Good idea! Thanks for the tip.
MIKE: Why did I just get deja vu when she said "Storm Cellar"?
PEARL: Hold it! That's where *he's* going. You, on the other hand,
have a chore. I need you to keep occupied while I go spank the m-
uh, take care of Bobo, so I'm sending you up a little piece of
faux-Vonnegut pretentiousness called "Everybody's Free to Wear
Sunscreen" that oughta keep you in pain. Brainy. [Observer does
the "doodly-doodly" thing, then heads off] Have fun! Now, as for
Bobo - I'M GONNA CLEAN YER CLOCK, YOU CRAZY CHIMP!!! [rushes off
towards the fray]
[SOL - Crow, Servo & Gypsy's upper "lips" all are coated with a thick,
black, viscous ooze]
BOTS: Got oil?
[lights and buzzer go off]
MIKE: Never mind that -
ALL: WE'VE GOT LYRICS SIGN!!!!
[Chaos, doors, etc.]
[6] {5} (4) <3> |2| O
[All enter]
MIKE: "Got oil"?!?
CROW: We like it better than milk.
TOM: And it really punches up a bowl of Wheat Chex!
>"Everybody's Free (to wear sunscreen)"
MIKE: Sunbathers of the world unite! You have nothing to lose but your
dermatologist's bills!
>Written by Chicago Tribune Columnist Mary Schmich
TOM: "Schmich"? She's named for a word scramble puzzle?
CROW: Looks more like a cryptogram to me.
>Sung by Baz Luhrmann
CROW: [singing] We're off to meet the Luhrmann, the wonderful Luhrmann of
Baz...
>FYI: Album title is "Something For Everybody"
TOM: Really? Oh boy! What'd we get?
MIKE: Lessee [rummages down below the seat] - Tom, here's a 1985 phone
book from Xenia, Ohio - Crow, you got a carburetor from an AMC
Pacer - and it looks like I have a half-full jar of bullion cubes.
[pause]
CROW: Not very impressive, is it?
MIKE: Well, it's not "Something *Neat* for Everybody".
>
>
>Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '99.
MIKE: [basso] Get out of here and get a job! Ya bums!
> Wear Sunscreen
>
TOM: Use it 24-7! Bathe in it! Marry sunscreen!
>If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.
CROW: Invest wisely? Love your kids? Buncha hooey!!!
>The long term benefits of sunscreen have been provided by scientists,
TOM: It's chock full of nutrients!
MIKE: Plus, it has a delicious coconutty flavor!
>whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own
>meandering experience...
TOM: Well, that wasn't too bad.
CROW: Yeah - a little banal, but a lot shorter than I thought.
[All prepare to go]
> I will dispense this advice now.
ALL: D'OH!!!
[All sit back down]
MIKE: I was afraid of something like that.
>
>Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth;
MIKE: [basso] Young man, turn down that junk you call "music" and come
take out the trash!
TOM: [teen] No way, dude! I'm enjoying the power and beauty of my youth!
> oh nevermind;
CROW: He's discovered the power and beauty of Kurt Cobain.
> you will not
>understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
MIKE: Well, what good is it, then?
> But
>trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall
TOM: [Baz] That you left the kitchen sink running.
>in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and
>how fabulous you really looked...
CROW: Well, unless you're Mike.
TOM: Yeah, then you'll just be the same beefy, squareheaded squarehead
you were then.
MIKE: Hey!
> You're not as fat as you imagine.
>
CROW: So there's no need to bomb Kosovo to overcompensate.
>Don't worry about the future;
CROW: Live only for the day!
TOM: Yeah, posterity is for suckers!
> or worry, but know that worrying is as
>effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.
TOM: That doesn't work?
MIKE: Apparently not.
TOM: Huh. No wonder I can never solve for X!
> The
>real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your
>worried mind;
CROW: Things like giant mutant killer catfish, or why Santa Claus doesn't
wear blue, or whether something you write will be attributed to
Kurt Vonnegut.
> the kind that blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.
>
TOM: Didn't you arrive here on a Tuesday, Mike?
MIKE: Yeah, now that you mention it.
TOM: Makes you wonder, doesn't it?
MIKE: Actually - no, not really.
>Do one thing everyday that scares you.
>
CROW: Take a nap with a spitting cobra.
TOM: Bungee jump with a frayed cord.
MIKE: Give a speech to a crowd of naked plumbers.
[pause]
CROW: Where did that -
MIKE: Just don't even ask.
>Sing.
>
ALL: Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!
>Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people
>who are reckless with yours.
>
CROW: Christiaan Barnaard, you stop juggling those transplants *this
second*!!!
>Floss.
>
TOM: Wear your teeth down to tiny, pointed nubs.
>Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're
>behind...
CROW: Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't.
> the race is long, and in the end it's only with yourself.
>
MIKE: But in any case, you're unlikely to finish in the money.
>Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed
>in doing this, tell me how.
>
TOM: Selective memory purge/compress.
CROW: Yeah, I mean - duh!
>Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
>
CROW: Don't waste time with financial record keeping. Instead, why not
obsess endlessly over that old girlfriend you haven't seen in years?
>Stretch.
[Tom's head extends up on a ratchet like it used to in KTMA days]
TOM: Like that?
MIKE: I thought you said you hurt your neck doing that.
TOM: Little Blue Star Ointment, and I'm as good as new!
[Tom retracts himself]
>
>Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life...
MIKE: Wander aimlessly about, muttering unintelligably - people enjoy that.
>the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted
>to do with their lives,
TOM: Sound familiar, Mike?
> some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know
>still don't.
>
TOM: Sound even more familiar, Mike?
MIKE: Oh, c'mon! I'm not 40 yet!
CROW: Yeah. And he's not that interesting, either.
TOM: True.
MIKE: I'm surrounded by assassins.
>Get plenty of Calcium.
MIKE: Satisfy your oral fixation by sucking on chalk.
>
>Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.
>
TOM: Easy for you to say!
MIKE: I'm sorry, what was that, Tom?
CROW: yeah, we couldn't hear you - we were too busy enjoying the
power and beauty of our knees! Heh-heh-heh.
TOM: Grrrrrrrrr!
>Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe
>you won't,
MIKE: Maybe you'll have a peanut butter sandwich, maybe you won't.
TOM: Maybe you'll invest in a high-yield financial portfolio, maybe you
won't.
CROW: Maybe you'll get involved in a dangerous and messy yet erotically
stimulating affair with someone two decades younger than you and
wind up either maimed by a jealous lover or walking the streets
penniless and alone after a hefty palimony suit, maybe you won't.
MIKE: Wow!
CROW: I know - I think I've watched too many Michael Douglas movies.
> maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken
>on your 75th wedding anniversary...
TOM: In which case, maybe you'll require traction. Maybe you won't.
> whatever you do, don't congratulate
>yourself too much
MIKE: Especially if it involves that funky chicken deal.
> or berate yourself either - your choices are half chance.
CROW: And half Community Chest.
>So are everybody else's.
>
TOM: Yes, life's a crapshoot, so just get out there and try to survive
it, if you can!
>Enjoy your body, use it every way you can...
CROW: This admonition void where prohibited by law.
> don't be afraid of it,
TOM: Unlike the tragic protagonist of the story "The Man Who Was Scared
of His Own Ingrown Follicle".
MIKE: Sad, really.
> or what
>other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
>
*POP*
MR.B NATURAL: You gotta inspect your instrument, boy!
*POP*
MIKE: Did that just happen?
CROW: By all that's good and decent, I hope not!
>Dance... even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
>
TOM: But for crying out loud, close the curtain first, ya perv!
>Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
>
CROW: Hm, should I shut off the power before fixing this socket? Naaah!
>Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
>
MIKE: Instead, read ugliness magazines, they will make you feel beautiful.
TOM: Or just watch Springer for the same effect.
>Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.
CROW: Once again, they've moved without leaving a forwarding address.
>Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the
>people most likely to stick with you in the future.
>
MIKE: They're also the ones most likely to give you a double jock-lock
and taunt you in public with embarrassing nicknames.
CROW: Thinking about Eddie?
MIKE: Yeah, he - hey, how'd you know my brother's name?
CROW: Um, it's a long story.
>Understand that friends, come and go,
TOM: Actually, "Friends" has had a pretty steady timeslot for the last
couple of years.
> but for the precious few you should
>hold on.
[Mike grabs the bots around an arm]
TOM: Um, what are you doing, Mike?
MIKE: I'm holding on to the precious few.
CROW: We, uh, we hate to disappoint you, Mike, but we're actually part
of the cheap multitude.
MIKE: Oh. [Lets go] Sorry.
TOM: 'Sokay. It's the thought that counts.
> Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the
>older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
>
MIKE: Because only they'll know that as bad as you are now, you're a
vast improvement over when you were a bratty little kid.
>Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;
ALL: LEAVE THE BRONX!!!
> live in
>Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
>
MIKE: Live in Wisconsin once, but leave before it makes you a cheese-
wearing Packers fan!
CROW: Live in Texas once, but leave before it makes you a boozy, no-neck
hick.
TOM: Live in Canada once, but leave before it m-
MIKE: What did we agree to, Tom?
TOM: *sigh!* Fine. No Canada-bashing for at least a month.
>Travel.
>
MIKE: Double-dribble. Goaltend. Violate all the rules of basketball.
>Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will
>philander, you too will get old,
TOM: So, basically, life sucks?
MIKE: Basically.
> and when you do you'll fantasize that when
>you were young
CROW: You were a chick magnet, instead of a geeky loner.
> prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children
>respected their elders.
>
TOM: In other words, you lived in Shangri-La.
>Respect your elders.
>
MIKE: And your deacons.
>Don't expect anyone else to support you.
TOM: Accept the fact that you're pretty much alone in life.
> Maybe you have a trust fund,
>maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one
>might run out.
>
MIKE: So just count your blessings if you have a wife who works at
Kwik-E-Mart and more than 40 bucks in your checking account.
>Don't mess too much with your hair, or by time you're 40, it will look 85.
>
CROW: If that's true, that "Werewolf" guy should've been bald halfway
through the picture.
>Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
TOM: Particularly if they're supplying it wholesale.
>Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past
>from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and
>recycling it for more that it's worth.
>
CROW: Wow!
MIKE: Yep, this has been one cheery chunk of prose.
TOM: Hollow optimism, thy name is Baz.
>BUT TRUST ME ON THE SUNSCREEN.
>
>
MIKE: Remember, kids: Life is a shallow and lonely existence, but as long
as you have sunscreen, you'll be okay!
TOM: Let's go.
[All leave]
O |2| <3> (4) {5} [6]
[SOL - Mike is thumbing through a copy of "Monica's Story". Tom is
engrossed in the trade paperback edition. "Kingdom Come". Crow enters,
glistening strangely, even in the subdued lighting of the satellite. We
soon see that he's covered in a dark, gooey liquid.]
CROW: Hey, Mike. Hey. Servo.
TOM: Crow.
MIKE: Hey, Crow. [stops, sniffs the air]
CROW: Something wrong?
MIKE: No, it's just - do you smell something funny?
CROW: No, not really.
TOM: [sniffing] Hey, I do, now that you mention it. I wonder what it -
GYAH! Geez, Crow, what'd you do, OD on Brylcreem?
MIKE: Crow, what in the world is all this - this gunk?
CROW: Huh? Oh! Oh, that. It's just -
TOM: Wait, don't tell me, let me guess. [pause] Sunscreen!
CROW: Yep.
MIKE: I already regret asking this, but *why* have you slathered this
stuff all over yourself?
CROW: Well, I figured now that I'm free to wear it, I may as well exercise
my Baz-given right to SPF protection. Pretty neat, huh?
MIKE: Crow - you, uh, you *do* realize that even if you could actually get
a sunburn, which, thanks to being made of metal, you're in zero
danger of, we live on a satellite - in a completely enclosed
environment where the sun don't shine?
TOM: So to speak.
MIKE: Right.
CROW: Mike, Mike, Mike - wearing sunscreen isn't just about UV Ray
protection! It's a statement to the world.
MIKE: And this, I take it, is your statement.
CROW: Right! I'm standing proud and saying to the world, "Hey, World! I'm
a powerful, beautiful youth, and my sunscreen is a liberating force!
It makes me feel alive and free! It makes me an individual!"
TOM: It also makes you smell like a sour pina colada.
CROW: Philistine!
MIKE: Look, if you wanna get baptized in sunscreen, that's fine, just -
just remember to put towels over the furniture before you sit, okay?
CROW: Will do, Mike! You can count on me! [leaves]
TOM: Does this place seem a little silly to you sometimes?
MIKE: That's a loaded question if I ever heard one. You, uh, you wanna
give with the info?
TOM: Hmmmm. Can it wait? I'm up to the part where they're chasing Batson
through the worm labs.
MIKE: Well, go ahead, then, I'll do it. To join the MiSTing Authors Dibs
List, send an e-mail to majo...@neylonpc.engin.umich.edu with the
message "subscribe dibslist [<your name>]" in the message body.
Read the FAQ, try not to work blue, and enjoy the power and beauty
of your dibs.
CROW: [re-enters] Oh, Mike, I kinda forgot and sat on your bed. You got
Coppertone soaked clear through to the mattress. Hope that's okay.
MIKE: *sugh* No, but it's about what I expected. [Motions Crow closer]
C'mere for second, Crow.
CROW: [leans in] Yes?
[Mike lightly flicks Crow on the "pin" with a single finger. With a loud
"WAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!", Crow slides off screen and lands with a huge crash]
TOM: Cute.
MIKE: Sunscreen is a two-edged sword. [Lights flash] Oop, let's see
how the siege of Castle Perilous is going.
[CF - Just Brain Guy. Offscreen, lots of screeching, incoherent threats,
crashes and general pandemonium]
OBSERVER: Hello, Mike. Well, things here are still basically the same.
Bobo's being stubborn, Pearl is livid, and life as we know it will
probably be disrupted [looks at his watch] any second now.
[A huge flash comes from OS in the direction of the hubbub, followed by
an eerie silence]
OBSERVER: Good heavens!
[SOL - Mike & the bots are gaping in concern]
MIKE: Observer, what happened?
[CF]
OBSERVER: Somehow, Bobo has managed to warp the very fabric of space and
time itself. I could feel it from here! Oh, my, this could have
serious repercussions indeed for anyone caught in it!
BOBO: [OS] Oh, quit whining, you big goon, I'm okay!
OBSERVER: Bobo, thank heavens you're - all -
[Out marches Kevin Murphy, sans any make-up]
OBSERVER: ...right?
BOBO: Yeah, I'm right as rain! Well, except for this whole being human
business, of course. Actually - it's funny, but for the first time
in a long time, I don't itch anywhere!
OBSERVER: Well - I, uh, appreciate the update on your dermatological
distress, I suppose. [Looks around] Where's Pearl? Has she
suffered any side effects?
BOBO: Ummmmmmm -
PEARL: [OS] What do *you* think?!?
OBSERVER: *gasp*
[What enters isn't Pearl - it's the Giant Mutant Tom Servo (c) from "High
School Big Shot", with a blonde wig on top]
[SOL]
MIKE: Pearl!
CROW: Oh the humanity!
TOM: Fellas! I think - I think I'm in l-
[CF]
PEARL: Finish that sentence, Sparky, and I'll come up there and smash your
globe in! Brain Guy - please tell me you can fix this!
OBSERVER: I- I- I'll certainly try, but it'll take time. I need to go
do some research! [leaves]
[pause]
BOBO: I'm, uh, I'm dreadfully sorry, Lawgiver. Is there anything I can do?
PEARL: Is there anyth- actually, Booboo, there is. See, I'd love to pound
the snot out of you, but my arms aren't functioning too well at
the moment. So why don't you go in the kitchen and whack yourself
over the skull with a frying pan until you pass out?
BOBO: You got it, Lawgiver! [strides forcefully away]
PEARL: Well, that's one thing out of the way. Hmmm - as long as I'm stuck
like this, I may as well enjoy the power and beauty of my monstrous
size and go scare the peasants.
[Pearl hovers off, humming to herself. As we fade we hear:]
*CLANG*
BOBO: Ow!
*CLANG*
BOBO: Ow!
*CLANG*
BOBO: Ow!
*CLANG*
[THUD]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
"EVERBODY'S FREE TO WEAR SUNSCREEN" BY: Mary Schmich, recorded by
Baz Luhrmann.
"EVERBODY'S FREE TO WEAR SUNSCREEN" NOT BY: Kurt Vonnegut
MiSTING BY: BILL LIVINGSTON
MiSTING DIBS LIST MAINTAINED BY: Michael Neylon
ORNAMENTS BY: Hallmark
STAND BY: For News!
HIT ME BABY: One more time
THANKS: to MiSTies, MuSTies, the teachers of America, the cast of "Sports
Night", Westwood One, and those little faux crab-meat and cream
cheese things they serve at some Chinese restaurants - Yum!
ALSO THANKS TO: Special Guest Star Bridget Jones as Mr. B. Natural.
"Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen" is (c) by May Schmich and the Chicago
Tribune. Recording is (c) Baz Luhrmann. Please note that none of these
are, in fact, Kurt Vonnegut.
"Mystery Science Theater 3000" trademark of and (c) Best Brains, Inc.
All rights reserved. Playing Ring Toss with your soul since 1988.
Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes
only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by
others is intended or should be inferred.
No personal insults to author(s), character(s), or situation(s) are or
should be implied. All characters in this work are fictional, and any
resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
And this time, I really mean it!
Go ahead, shove the irony down my throat!
Keep circulating the posts.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
>Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
#######################################################
bi...@Traveller.COM http:\\www.hsv.tis.net\~bill
He that is of a merry heart hath
a continual feast - Prov. 15:15b
Once and a great while, I am treated to a superior piece of work that makes me
laugh and wakes everyone in the house with the screams of "Shut up, I've got to
get up at four am" and sending the cats on a hellious fighting spree due to the
shrillness and longvity of my laughter.
Bill, you have made me laugh. That song has been played on a local rock station
endlessly for the past two weeks and everytime I hear it, it makes me scream.
It depresses the hell out of me. Now, whenever I'll hear it, I'll remember Mike
and the bots saying "So, life basically sucks, right?" "Basically."
Thank you.
:)
Great work, Bill. I have sent it to several friends. I bow before you. I
am so damn sick of that song. You have made my old world new again.
Marry me? Sure, I'm hairier than your average bride, but I can bake a
mean batch of oatmeal-raisin cookies, or whip up some stuffed peppers like
nobody's business.
>-----------------------------------------------------------------------
>"EVERBODY'S FREE TO WEAR SUNSCREEN" BY: Mary Schmich, recorded by
> Baz Luhrmann.
>"EVERBODY'S FREE TO WEAR SUNSCREEN" NOT BY: Kurt Vonnegut
And, for the record, the guy you hear doing the speech is not actually Baz
Luhrmann. It's some actor they hired to do the recording. So...Baz
didn't write it...Baz didn't perform it...why is he getting all the money?
I sure as hell don't know...
>THANKS: to MiSTies, MuSTies, the teachers of America, the cast of "Sports
> Night", Westwood One, and those little faux crab-meat and cream
> cheese things they serve at some Chinese restaurants - Yum!
<Homer Simpson> Mmmm...crab rangoon... </HS>
J
--
Hostes aliengeni me abduxerent. Jeff Johnston - je...@io.com
Qui annus est? http://www.io.com/~jeffj
Same reasons why puff daddy gets money. He sampled it whole and
complete and put a beat to it.
I found the MST'ng to be good, but I like the song.
The album cut isn't much though compared to the radio.
I haven't heard the song (lucky me?), but I've been plagued with this "speech"
almost every day in my email.
I don't normally read MSTings (lack of time), but this one grabbed me from the
start & wouldn't let go. Nice work!
Lisa Mallette
euph...@gru.net
--
Fox, Spy Extraordinaire
MSTie #83019
Commander of Intelligence Operations for the AOPWS
Spy Extraordinaire for G.E.E.K.S.
http://www.geocities.com/hollywood/location/7082/index.html
I say we go to that Bigfoot party and crash it like Skylab!
-- Max from Sam and Max: Hit The Road
One of the Boston stations threw their copy of that song into the bay
because everyone was so tired of hearing it.
Another station had a parody called, "Everybody's Free to Use Gravy" which
had a few funny lines and a bunch that just fell flat.
> Bill, you have made me laugh.
Oh, don't encourage him. He's bad enough as it is. ;)
Seriously, my arch nemesis, excellent work. On a related note,
I'd like to share the following, which was written by my friend Matt
Cooley:
"Everybody's Free (To Watch Star Wars)"
Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '79:
Watch Star Wars.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, Star Wars would be
it. The long-term benefits of Star Wars have been proved by critics,
whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own
meandering rebel experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of the force. Oh, never mind. You will not
understand the power and beauty of the force until you've turned to
the dark side. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at
holographic photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now
how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really
looked. You are not as fat as Jabba the Hut.
Don't worry about the future of the Rebellion. Or worry, but know that
worrying is as effective as trying to destroy a death star by chewing
bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind, the kind that eat you in a hole on
some idle asteroid.
Do one thing every day that scares C3PO.
Celebrate with Ewoks.
Don't be reckless with other people's Wookies. Don't put up with
people who are reckless with yours.
Blow up Alderaan.
Don't waste your time on bounty hunters. Sometimes you're ahead,
sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only
with Boba Fett.
Remember advice from dead wise people you receive. Forget the
invitations from Darth Vader. If you succeed in doing this, tell me
how.
Keep your old X-wing. Sell your old speeder.
Avoid tractor beams.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with the
force. The most interesting Jedis I know didn't know at 22 what they
wanted to do with the force. Some of the most interesting
400-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of carbon scoring.
Be kind to your hands. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll rescue Leia, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll like Ewoks,
maybe you won't. Maybe you'll become a hermit at 40, maybe you'll get
the Millennium Falcon on your 75th wedding annversary. Whatever you
do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either.
Your choices are half-destiny. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your light saber. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of
it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest weapon
you'll ever own.
Use the force, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Listen to Obi-Wan, even if you don't follow him.
Do not read sci-fi magazines. They will only make you feel geeky.
Get to know your aunt and uncle. You never know when they'll be killed
by stormtroopers.
Be nice to your droids. They're your best link to the past and the
most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that Jedis come and go, but with a precious few you should
hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in hyperspace and Imperial
entanglements, because the older you get, the more you need the Jedis
who knew you when you were young.
Live on Tatooine once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in
Cloud City once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: the Empire will rise. Jawas will
philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize
that when you were young, smuggling prices were reasonable,
ambassadors were noble, and children destroyed their fathers.
Destroy your father.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a freighter
captain. Maybe you'll have a Jedi master. But you never know when
either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your R2 unit or by the time you're 40, it
will look 85.
Be careful whose droid you buy, but be patient with those who supply
it. Negotiation is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of
fishing the droid from the garbage compactor, wiping it off, painting
over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on Star Wars.
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