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The faggy little droids were hanging out in Luke’s garage. Threepio was chilling in the oil bath and Artoo was bent over awaiting further instructions.

“Your uncle Owen seems like a real tight-ass, if I may say so, Master Luke.” Threepio stroked his copper cod piece safe from view beneath the surface of the oil.

“No shit, Sherlock! Now get your ass out of that oil bath and go service your counterpart.” Luke had had it with Tatooine. He was gonna transfer to the academy this year. Seriously. Fuck the harvest.

Threepio had a boner, so he didn’t want to get out of the tub. “I believe Artoo is in quite fine condition, though he may be a little constipated,” Threepio said.

“Is that why he’s sticking his dumpy droid ass up in the air?”

“I believe it is, Master Luke.”

“Well I ain’t pullin droid no turds out of no droid ass. Uncle Owen can hump a Gaffi stick for all I care.”

Threepio figured what the fuck and climbed out of the tub, boner and all. As he lifted his thigh over the side, droplets of oil dripped off his sizable cybernetic member.

“Holy shit, Threepio, you’re hung like a Sandperson!” Luke said, jumping to his feet.

Threepio gently brushed Luke’s cheek with his tin-clad hand. “Perhaps you are unfamiliar with some of my primary functions. Human-cyborg relations isn’t all about translating, you know.”

Anyway, Luke and Threepio spent the rest of the night and much of the next day engaged in human-cyborg relations. In the oil bath, out by the moisture vaporators, in Aunt Beru’s cupboard, every which way there is. Long and the short of it is they were still there humping when the Storm Troopers came looking for the droids. Artoo (and Luke, for that matter) was still bent over with his ass in the air when they burned their little sand igloo to the ground.

Now what I find really disturbing about this chain of events, triggered by the mere fact that Luke’s and Threepio’s homosexuality was two degrees less latent than in real life, is that it allowed The Emperor and Darth Vader to consolidate their power and storm across the galaxy, blowing up planets with the Death Star. Also, Han never cleaned up his act.

Date Written: December 20, 2004
Author: Ewan Snow
Average Vote: 2.83333

12/29/2004 qualcomm: i think this would have been better without all the foul language.
12/29/2004 The Rid: Interesting. I think I liked the author's discourse after all the goofy gayness more than I did the goofy gayness.
12/29/2004 TheBuyer (3): it's a trap.
12/29/2004 John Slocum: don't quite know what to make of this one, but I'd like to let the author know I read it twice and thought about what rating to give it, just so he/she doesn't feel ignored/neglected.
12/30/2004 John Slocum (4): The gays will ruin the universe. I don't understand the silence here, are you ladies away on vacation?
12/30/2004 Dylan Danko (2):
12/30/2004 qualcomm (3): some good lines, but rather "non-dairy" ideation. 2.5
01/2/2005 Ferucio P. Chhretan: The Buyer, did you say that with a Mon Calamari lisp? If you did, kudos.
01/5/2005 Dick Vomit (1): RETRIBUTION
10/2/2005 Streifenbeuteldachs (4): enjoyed