Bla Bla Bla Bla Wars, Episode IV, Part I

Day 8. 46 pages, 19,816 words.

Another of my magical mystery .txt files from 2002, the following is a movie parody extravaganza that is quite timely – considering that we have a new Star Wars movie and a whole new set of wars between the USA and the Middle East to poke fun at exercise searing insightful postmodern wit upon. It appears to be a retelling of Star Wars from a Gulf War Politics point of view. Or vice versa.

As you will gather, I was a subtle sonofabitch back when I was twenty-three.

I will divide the file up into its component movies and release one per weekend, each movie divided Peter-Jacksonesquely into three parts to cover Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Which means this weekend, you get Episode IV.

Starring

Mark Hamill as GEORGE W. SKYWALKER

Harrison Ford as COLIN SOLO

Peter Mayhew as THE SECRETARY OF DEFENSE (AKA BOMBIE)

Carrie Fisher as PRINCESS BLAIR

Alec Guinness as JAQUI WAN CHIRAQI

Kenny Baker as CNN-D2

Anthony Daniels as BBC-3PO

Ian McDiarmid as EMPEROR SADDAMPATINE

Billy Dee Williams as LANDO HOWARD

A Bunch Of Midgets In Care Bear Costumes as THE CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTING WHINY PUSSY TREE-HUGGING HIPPIE WIMPS OF ENDOR

and the voices of

James Earl Jones as DARTH LADEN

___[1] as JABBA THE INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL COURT

and Frank Oz as COFI

[1] This name was missing from the .txt file. I believe, as this satire was originally posted on Usenet, the role of Jabba was filled by my “cousin” Debs, who everyone made fat jokes about. Long story. I don’t think leaving it blank really detracts from the story though.

Number 10 Downing Street is under attack by THE AXIS OF EVIL terrorist forces. CNN-D2 and BBC-3PO are rushing around amidst the explosions.

CNN: Beep! Bing! Pow! Whoosh!

BBC: I don’t see what’s so exciting about it, this is simply ghastly! Oh dear, this is horrible, the carpets are a mess and whatever will the neighbors think? What a scandal! Here comes that beastly Darth Laden.

DARTH LADEN strides into the corridors of Number 10 and confronts  PRINCESS BLAIR.

LADEN: Take her away.

CIA-trained STORMTROOPERS march in and escort BLAIR to LADEN’S private jet. BBC and CNN escape on a press helicopter.

CNN: Bleep beep bing!

BBC: A message? What do you mean, a message? You never have anything close to informative content in your-

CNN: Beep.

BBC: What do you mean, I’m thinking of Fox?

Meanwhile, GEORGE W. SKYWALKER is hearing about the attack on his radio.

GEORGE: Wow. I wish I could get in a war with terrorists.

UNCLE RUPERT: You’re just like your father, with his wars. Hey, speaking of wars, today we need to go and buy some television networks. Come on, mate.

GEORGE and RUPERT MURDOCH go to buy television networks.

UNCLE RUPERT: I’ll take that Limey one.

BBC: I am BBC-3PO, British Broadcasting Corporation, fluent in-

UNCLE RUPERT: I’ll take it. And that South American one.

The South American television network explodes.

BBC: Might I suggest that little news network, sir? I know it quite well, and it won’t let you down.

UNCLE RUPERT: Okay, I’ll take CNN as well. Here’s four billion credits. George, you take these networks home and clean them up for me.

The next morning, CNN is gone.

GEORGE: Oh no! Where is he?

BBC: He wouldn’t tell me, sir. He was babbling about Jaqui Wan Chiraqi.

GEORGE: I wonder if he means Old Jack Chiraq?

TO BE CONTINUED

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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