The Wodehouse Strikes Back
What if P.G. Wodehouse had written Star Wars?
by Angie Brennan
-----------------------
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy a goodish hike from the home front…
Lord Vader: I say, young Skywalker, I see that you've constructed your own lightsaber.
Extraordinary. Most extraordinary, indeed!
Luke: Not at all. I must admit, however, I do find the new curved handle design to be
rather convenient when one is suddenly compelled to broach vast chasms. Simply hang the
saber upon the arm, eliminating the need to choose between dropping one’s weapon or a
sarcastic young princess.
Lord Vader: Ah, yes. I must say, it firmly grasps the arm like a well-executed telekinetic
throttle. And now, young Skywalker I wonder if you would be amenable to hearing a rather
remarkable bit of genealogical what-not.
Luke: Rather!
Lord Vader: Jolly good, my boy, jolly good. In that case, it may interest you to know that I,
Lord Vader, am none other than your direct male progenitor!
Luke: Sorry...my what?
Lord Vader: You see before you, my good fellow, the patriarch of the Skywalker line—
once a proud Jedi like yourself. The one who ensured that you will never be lacking in the
midichlorian department. I am, in short, your father.
Luke: (momentarily speechless) Well, I...I'm dashed!
Lord Vader: I say, old offspring, you took the news rather better than I had expected.
(Briefly consults his pocket watch) And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off for a quick spot of
tea before destroying the entire population of an unsuspecting planet. Alder-on-the-Wold, I
believe it's called. Always remember, my boy—one is never so busy that one can't set aside
time for a proper tea. Cheerio! (Vader walks off, whistling)
Luke: 3PO?
C3PO: Sir?
Luke: Did I mention that I’m dashed?
C3PO: I believe you indicated something of that nature, sir.
Luke: What I mean to say, 3PO, is that a chap's nervous system hasn't really been put
through its paces until it's gotten wind of the fact that a caped fiend with bronchial issues is
his long-lost parent.
C3PO: A disquieting revelation indeed, sir.
Luke: A rather bitter wad of gum to chew, midichlorians or no.
C3PO: Poignantly put, sir.
Luke: I wonder if you might be good enough to help ease the disturbance in the force by
mixing up a beaker of your special tonic, what?
C3PO: I should be happy to oblige, sir.
Luke: One doesn't want to rush about screaming and falling into largish shafts that lead
into the endless void of space without applying a bit of gray matter to the situation first.
C3PO: Indeed not, sir.
Luke: Just so. Off with you then, 3PO, and work your liquid enchantments. And may the
force be with you!
C3PO: Thank you, sir. And if I may take the liberty of returning the sentiment?
Luke: As you will, 3PO, as you will. But I’m inclined to think the beverage would do me
more good, if you see what I mean.
C3PO: I shall put my hand to the task immediately, sir.
Luke: Thank you, 3P0. I’ll just lounge here against the X-Wing, quietly and comfortably
raging, until you return.
C3PO: Very good, sir.
©2006
What if P.G. Wodehouse had written Star Wars?
by Angie Brennan
-----------------------
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy a goodish hike from the home front…
Lord Vader: I say, young Skywalker, I see that you've constructed your own lightsaber.
Extraordinary. Most extraordinary, indeed!
Luke: Not at all. I must admit, however, I do find the new curved handle design to be
rather convenient when one is suddenly compelled to broach vast chasms. Simply hang the
saber upon the arm, eliminating the need to choose between dropping one’s weapon or a
sarcastic young princess.
Lord Vader: Ah, yes. I must say, it firmly grasps the arm like a well-executed telekinetic
throttle. And now, young Skywalker I wonder if you would be amenable to hearing a rather
remarkable bit of genealogical what-not.
Luke: Rather!
Lord Vader: Jolly good, my boy, jolly good. In that case, it may interest you to know that I,
Lord Vader, am none other than your direct male progenitor!
Luke: Sorry...my what?
Lord Vader: You see before you, my good fellow, the patriarch of the Skywalker line—
once a proud Jedi like yourself. The one who ensured that you will never be lacking in the
midichlorian department. I am, in short, your father.
Luke: (momentarily speechless) Well, I...I'm dashed!
Lord Vader: I say, old offspring, you took the news rather better than I had expected.
(Briefly consults his pocket watch) And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off for a quick spot of
tea before destroying the entire population of an unsuspecting planet. Alder-on-the-Wold, I
believe it's called. Always remember, my boy—one is never so busy that one can't set aside
time for a proper tea. Cheerio! (Vader walks off, whistling)
Luke: 3PO?
C3PO: Sir?
Luke: Did I mention that I’m dashed?
C3PO: I believe you indicated something of that nature, sir.
Luke: What I mean to say, 3PO, is that a chap's nervous system hasn't really been put
through its paces until it's gotten wind of the fact that a caped fiend with bronchial issues is
his long-lost parent.
C3PO: A disquieting revelation indeed, sir.
Luke: A rather bitter wad of gum to chew, midichlorians or no.
C3PO: Poignantly put, sir.
Luke: I wonder if you might be good enough to help ease the disturbance in the force by
mixing up a beaker of your special tonic, what?
C3PO: I should be happy to oblige, sir.
Luke: One doesn't want to rush about screaming and falling into largish shafts that lead
into the endless void of space without applying a bit of gray matter to the situation first.
C3PO: Indeed not, sir.
Luke: Just so. Off with you then, 3PO, and work your liquid enchantments. And may the
force be with you!
C3PO: Thank you, sir. And if I may take the liberty of returning the sentiment?
Luke: As you will, 3PO, as you will. But I’m inclined to think the beverage would do me
more good, if you see what I mean.
C3PO: I shall put my hand to the task immediately, sir.
Luke: Thank you, 3P0. I’ll just lounge here against the X-Wing, quietly and comfortably
raging, until you return.
C3PO: Very good, sir.
©2006
