A long time ago... in a galaxy far, far away...
The awesome silver brew kettle of Sudsooine emerges from a total
eclipse, her two moons throbbing against the darkness. A tiny
silver spacecraft, a Rebel Beer Wagon known as a Growler, firing
hop pellets from the back of the ship, races through space. It is
pursued by a giant Imperial Beerdestroyer. Hundreds of deadly
streams of macroswill (highly condensed and focused beams of
bitter beer capable of destroying taste buds and blasting holes
into armor plating) streak from the Beerdestroyer, causing the
main solar fin of the Rebel craft to disintegrate.
INTERIOR: REBEL GROWLER -- MAIN PASSAGEWAY.
An explosion rocks the ship as two dudes, Art Deetzo and
Lee Tripeo struggle to make their way through the shaking,
bouncing passageway. Both feel old and battered. But that has
more to do with the hops and cannabis than their actual age.
Art is short, some would call him a midget. His face is a mass
of wrinkles surrounding one radar-like eye. A patch covers
his bad eye. Tripeo, on the other hand, is a tall, slender man
with sleek, angular, almost robotic features. Not a single
follicle of hair resides on his gleaming chrome dome. Another
blast shakes them as they struggle along their way.
TRIPEO: Did ya hear that? Geezuz! They've shut down the main brew kettle. We'll be destroyed for sure. This is madness!
Rebel troopers rush past the two dudes and take up positions
in the main passageway. They aim their weapons toward the
TRIPEO: We're doomed!
Little Art makes a series of burps and farts that only Lee can
TRIPEO: Crap! There'll be no escape for the Princess this time.
Art continues making farting sounds. Tension mounts as loud
metallic latches clank and the scream of heavy equipment is
heard moving around the outside hull of the ship.
TRIPEO: What the hell... ?
EXTERIOR: SPACECRAFT IN SPACE.
The Imperial craft has easily overtaken the Rebel Growler.
The smaller Rebel ship is being drawn into the underside
dock of the giant Imperial beership.
INTERIOR: REBEL GROWLER.
The nervous Rebel troopers aim their weapons. Suddenly
a tremendous blast opens up a hole in the main passageway
and a score of fearsome, foamy white, armored Beerstapo
troopers make their way into the smoke-filled corridor.
Seconds tick by...
Suddenly the entire passageway becomes awash with
streams of macroswill. The deadly swill ricochets in wild
random patterns creating huge, wet explosions. Beestapo
scatter and duck behind empty kegs. Bolts of macroswill
hit several Rebel soldiers who scream and stagger through
the smoke, their Bitter Beer Faces telling the whole story
behind their horror and misery. An explosion hits near
TRIPEO: I should have known better than to trust the logic of a half-sized spaced out, homeless, douche bag like you!
Art counters with an angry burp as the battle rages around
the two hapless dudes.
TO BE CONTINUED...