With a Blaster Nozzle Between Your Teeth, You Speak Only In Vowels



With insomnia, you're never really asleep, and never really awake.

Sometimes, you get a dream glimpse of something fanatical, something fantastic, adventure, excitement, blasting wamp rats at 2am on an Infomercial.



Let me get started first though. I used to go on a lot of business trips. SEA-TAC. O'Hare. DIA. LAX. Toshi Station. On each of these trips, I'd meet someone for a flight, have a polite and lovely conversation, and quickly forgot about them.

Except for one of them.

Darth Vader.



Well, Darth sold soap. He did mention some side business he had dealing with adversity in the business, apparently some rebel soap salesmen were trying to undercut his fairly earned soap empire. Not good.

Anyway, the night after that flight, I came home, and saw that my Aunt & Uncle had been disintegrated into charred, smokey husks, and I realized that there was nothing left for me at the moisture farm.

There was only one person that I could think of to call.

If you ask me now, I couldn't tell you why I called him. But we met, had a few beers, and then I asked him if I could stay at his place for a while. He said "sure" and then he paused, and asked me something.



Now, let me tell you a little bit about Darth Vader.

Darth had a night job as a movie projectionist, and a side job as a catering host.

He delighted in splicing single frames of pornography into family films, or to 'ruin' the soup in manners unimaginable.



Anyway, I obliged, and quickly this turned into some sort of group thing. We had a club going. Every Saturday night, in the basement under mos eisley cantina, we'd get together and beat the snot out of each other. I'd never felt more liberated in all my life.

I'd sometimes give out the rules, and Darth'd sit back and watch, and other times, I'd watch as he laid down the rules.



Of course, I was fooling myself the whole time.

This was all about self-destruction. Darth put it eloquently one night, as we were rendering bantha fat to make soap.



I guess I believed him. What happened next was a rollercoaster ride of self-doubt, love, and a mixture of confusion and chaos, not to mention mayhem. But all in all, it all turned out well.

Until I found out that Darth Vader had parked a van loaded with explosives in the Death Star....