INT. LARS HOMESTEAD — GARAGE AREA — LATE AFTERNOON
C-3PO: Thank the Maker, this oil bath is going to feel so good! I have such a bad case of dust contamination I can barely move.
Luke: Don’t mind me harshing your Calgon moment, Goldleaf. I’ll a little too busy hating the universe.
C-3PO: What? Why?
Luke: Why? Because unfairness and sand are the only things this planet has buckets of. Biggs totally called it. I’m more stalled than an airport men’s room.
C-3PO: Is there anything I might do to help?
Luke: Doubt it. Unless you’ve already pressed your magic teleportation and time-altering button and we’re back where we started because that didn’t work.
C-3PO: I see, sir.
Luke: Can the Jeeves bit, Rolled Gold. It’s Luke. And not Mr. Skywalker. That would be my dad, if I had one.
C-3PO: I see, Sir Luke.
Luke: Whoa, whoa, now you’re dubbing me like a Japanese monster flick. No, just Luke.
C-3PO: Oh. And I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations, and this is my counterpart, R2-D2.
Luke: Howdy. Short stuff, you’re crustier than Little Caeser’s crazy bread. What’s with the mesquite-grill toasting? I wasn’t expecting mint on mint-card, but you look like you’ve had one hell of a weekend.
C-3PO: With all we’ve been through, sometimes I’m amazed we’re in as good condition as we are. What with the Rebellion and all.
Luke: Rebellion? Rewind. Lather. Repeat. You know of the Rebellion against the Empire?
C-3PO: It’s how we came to be in your service, if you take my meaning, sir.
Luke: Oh, I’ll take it. My calendar isn’t exactly full of appointments to hear interesting anecdotes today.
C-3PO: There’s not much to tell. I’m not much more than an interpreter, and not very good at telling stories. Well, not at making them interesting, anyway.
Luke: Well, my little Roomba, we be jammin’ here. The hell you got crammed in there? You’re gonna need some roughage to clear out that block. Hey, were you guys on a star cruiser or a –
Leia (Hologram): Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.