EXTERIOR: Brewooine -- BEER WASTELAND -- DAY.
A beer wasteland stretches from horizon to horizon. The tremendous
heat of the planet's twin suns settle on a lone figure, Duke
Flymalter, a hopfarm boy with heroic aspirations who looks much
older than his twenty-one years. His dreadlocks and baggy tunic
give him the air of a simple deadbeat with a goofy smile.
A light wind whips at him as he adjusts several valves on a
large battered brew kettle. He is aided by a beatup tread-robot
with six claw arms - three of which hold cans of beer. The little
robot appears to be barely functioning -- much like Duke, and
moves with jerky motions.
A bright sparkle in the morning sky catches Duke's eye.
Instinctively he dry heaves thinking it a figment of his hungover
imagination. Realizing it's not, he grabs a pair of mangobinoculars
from his prized imitation Batman utility belt and scans the sky.
He stands transfixed for a few moments studying the heavens, then
dashes toward his dented, crudely repaired hoopty... a '27 Galaxy
Groundcruiser (an auto-like vehicle that travels a few feet off
the ground on a flatulence-resonance field). He motions for the
tiny robot to follow him.
DUKE: Hurry up ya sorry sack of bolts! Come with me! What are you waiting for?! Get in gear!
The robot spins around in a tight circle, stops short, and pops
his lid. Smoke begins to pour out of every joint. Duke throws
his arms up in disgust. Exasperated, the young farm boy jumps into
his '27 Galaxy Groundcruiser and leaves the smoldering robot to
INTERIOR: REBEL GROWLER -- MAIN HALLWAY.
The awesome, seven-foot-tall Dark Lord of the Macro makes his
way into the blinding light of the main passageway. This is
Darth Fermentor, right hand of the Emperor. His face is blocked
by flowing black robes and a grotesque breath mask, which
stands out next to the fascist white armored suits of the
Imperial Beerstapo. Everyone instinctively backs away from
the imposing figure and a deathly quiet sweeps through the
Rebel troops. Several of the Rebel troops break and run in a
INTERIOR: REBEL GROWLER.
A woman puts a card into Art Deetzo's hand. Art burps.
INTERIOR: REBEL GROWLER.
Lee Tripeo stands in a hallway, somewhat bewildered. Art is
nowhere in sight. The pitiful screams of the doomed Rebel
soldiers can be heard in the distance.
TRIPEO: Art! Art Deetzo! Where the hell are you?
A familiar farting sound attracts Tripeo's attention and he spots
little Art at the end of the hallway in a smoke-filled alcove. A
beautiful young girl (about sixteen years old) stands in front of
Art. Surreal and out of place, dreamlike and half hidden in the
smoke, she finishes adjusting something on Art's face, then
watches as the little guy joins his companion.
TRIPEO: WTF?! You weren't doing what I think you were doing?! WERE YOU!?
Beerstapo troopers can be heard battling in the distance.
TRIPEO: They're heading in this direction. What are we going to do? We'll be sent to the torture racks of Guantánamo or smashed into who knows what!
Art waddles past his goofy friend and races down the
subhallway. Tripeo chases after him.
TRIPEO: Wait a minute, where are you going?
Art responds with a fart.
INTERIOR: REBEL GROWLER -- CORRIDOR
The evil Darth Fermentor stands amid the broken and twisted bodies
of his foes. He grabs a wounded Rebel Officer by the neck as
an Imperial Officer rushes up to the Dark Lord.
IMPERIAL OFFICER: The Beer Star plans are not in the main computer.
Fermentor squeezes the neck of the Rebel Officer, who struggles
FERMENTOR: Where are those transmissions you intercepted?
Darth Fermentor lifts the Rebel off his feet by his throat.
FERMENTOR: What have you done with those plans?
REBEL OFFICER: We intercepted no transmissions. This is a beer wagon! We're on a beer delivery mission!
FERMENTOR: If this is a beer wagon... where is the Dalmatian?
The Rebel refuses to speak but eventually cries out as the
Dark Lord begins to squeeze the officer's throat, creating a
gruesome snapping and choking, until the soldier goes limp.
Fermentor tosses the dead soldier against the wall and turns to
FERMENTOR: Commander, tear this ship apart until you've found those plans. Bring me the Dalmation alive. Oh, and while you're at it... a a cold beer too.
The Beerstapo troopers scurry into the subhallways.
INTERIOR: REBEL GROWLER -- SUBHALLWAY.
The lovely young girl huddles in a small alcove as the
Beerstapo troopers search through the ship. She is Princess Leia
Hopgana, a member of the Alderaan Brewers Association. The fear
in her eyes slowly gives way to anger as the muted crushing
sounds of the approaching enemy grows louder. One of the
troopers spots her.
TROOPER: There she is! Set for stun!
Leia steps from her hiding place and blasts a trooper with
her hopistol. She starts to run but is felled by a paralyzing
ray. The troopers inspect her inert body.
TROOPER: She'll be all right. Inform Lord Fermentor we have a prisoner.
TO BE CONTINUED...