Han’s Night Out

One of the perks of writing for this site, is that I get to attend games, as like a member of the media. Silly, I know, and last night I was able to go to the Cal Poly/USC basketball game at the Galen Center in downtown Los Angeles (I live in LA, so this was not a hard thing for me to do). However, last night was December 17th, and for the rest of the world, that meant the premiere of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens.” I have my tickets for Saturday, so I was fine, but I figure if I am going to go to this game on the same date as the premiere of the most anticipated movie of the year, well, I should probably write my post about the game with some sort of “Star Wars” angle right? So, many thanks to Mike Still, the artistic director of the Upright Citizen’s Brigade, Los Angeles (the theater where I have performed for the last six years), for giving me the idea to cover the game as Han Solo, so that is exactly what I am going to do. From here on out, I will be writing as the outlaw, Han Solo.

Hey, where the hell am I?  Chewy?  Chewy?  Where are you? Hmm. Dare I say it? Jabba? Come on Han. He died thirty years ago. Sorry, I’ll never forget all of that time in carbonite. Come on Han, you’ve woke up in stranger places. You can get through this. Okay, so it appears I am in some sort of arena. Oh no, the Rancor? Han, Luke killed the Rancor like 30 years ago. Right around the same Leia killed Jabba. I guess Leia’s right, I am getting old. Hope you’re happy General, I just said you’re right.

Oh wait, the lights are dimming.  Wait, that music.  I know that music.  But he’s dead too.  And yes, it’s been for about thirty years now.  Cram it with the jokes friend.  But what are these guys doing?  Whatever they’re up to, I am going to keep my blaster close.

I’ll say one thing, this guy Ridge Shipley, he just sounds like a guy who you would meet in Mos Eisley Cantina or piloting an X-wing next to Luke right? I like him. I have no idea what the hell is about to happen, but I like him. Okay, so five guys dressed in black with the words Cal Poly on their chests, and five guys dressed in white just came out with the name Trojan on their chest. I don’t know who I should be more worried about because the guys in black could be from the First Order, but the guys in white, could obviously be some sort of Stormtrooper. This may be some sort of two the death game being conducted by Imperial Forces. In fact, looking at one of the Trojan Stormtrooper arms, I honestly can’t tell if he is part snake or all human. Maybe a Slussi?  Seriously, what is the strange art on this man’s arms?

Anyway, so it appears this “game” has started, and from what I can tell the point is to put the ball in the round net, and the white team, specifically the snake-armed man, is doing a pretty well at that indeed.  But wait a minute, the game has stopped and now a voice comes can be heard, and a strange man begins to play some music while the First Order and the Stormtroopers talk to each other. Okay, this guy clearly is in charge. This guy has taken over for Jabba the Hut. He is ordering people to stand on their feet, to scream, to make some noise. He is a tyrant, begging his people to follow him, and it is clear this “game” is being played as some sort of entertainment for him.

I have been able to figure out that this twerp is named DJ Mal Ski. The guy just advertises it on his throne. Even Jabba wasn’t that full of himself, but this guy is clearly trying to one-up Jabba in a big way, so based on my relationship with Jabba, I gotta watch myself. Whoa, one of the stormtroopers took the ball and threw it into the net really hard.  Hadn’t seen that before. Oh, it happened again.  And again. It seems like the First Order guys need to do a better job of keeping the ball out of the net. Who cares though because this is all just big show for Master Mal Ski. Oh, here comes some dancers. I seem to recall Jabba just having one dancer with long tentacles coming out of her head. Some people try to say that it happened differently, as if someone changed how the original memory of the Jabba’s lair, but I was stuck in carbonite. That, unfortunately for me, did not change. Anyway, this Mal Ski is not satisfied with one dancer. He rolls out like twenty.  I can only assume they are slaves being made to dance.

I gotta do something about this guy. Oh no! He’s now putting people on the screen and making them kiss! These people are all his slaves, and he makes them do his bidding. You know, when I was younger, I wouldn’t have taken sides here. Well, I would have I guess. Whoever would have paid me the best. Not anymore though. You don’t fight against the Imperial Forces and don’t come out with a stronger sense of good and evil, and Mr. Mal Ski, it’s time to take you out. Wait, what’s that noise. All of the men playing are watching as one of the men throw the ball towards the net, and I hear something.

He’s got Chewy!  That giant furball gets on my nerves, but he’s my furball. Okay, this guy is going down. Oh, a horn just sounded, and everyone is leaving. There are guards preventing me onto the floor. It seems that the stormtroopers have more numbers than the First Order, whatever that means, but the crowd is keeping me away from Mal Ski. He’s gone. Gotta find Chewy. Gotta go.