In a world full of sadness, nothing has radiated joy quite like the internet’s plan to remake The Last Jedi.
The @RMTheLastJedi Twitter account and its quixotic us-versus-the-world quest to fix Star Wars by servicing every clenched-sphincter whim of every possessive, damp-duveted Star Wars “fan” represents the all-time human pinnacle of heroic pointlessness. It is beautiful to witness, like discovering a rare flower in the foothill of a remote mountainside, only to realise that it smells of urine and makes a sad trumpet noise whenever a bee gets too close (even The Last Jedi’s director, Rian Johnson, has shared his amusement).
Better yet, the account claims that the remake is nearly funded – last night it apparently crossed the $150m mark in pledges – which means a script should be imminent. So, @RMTheLastJedi, if you’re reading, please consider this sincere treatment submission.
AHCH-TO. We open where JJ left us, as REY presents a reclusive LUKE SKYWALKER with her lightsaber. This time, Luke grabs it without hesitation. He throws on a cool pair of shades. Out of nowhere, the opening riff to THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST by IRON MAIDEN screams from the speakers. Luke smiles in slow motion, flips the bird at those LAME FISH-NUN THINGS and hops aboard his cool new ride, a space motorbike shaped like a giant penis.
Just as BRUCE DICKINSON screams “YEEEEEEEEEAH!”, fire spurts out of the back of the motorbike and Luke takes off, pausing only to shoot Rey with a laser beam that turns her into a hot babe with a sexy perm. As she gyrates to the music in a gold bikini, Luke pulls his sunglasses down his nose and winks. Rey instantly orgasms but Luke has already left. That’s how cool he is.
Next stop: D’QAR, where Resistance forces are under attack from the First Order. Luke’s space-bike zooms in out of nowhere and power-slides to a standstill between the opposing factions. He looks to his left and sees KYLO REN and GENERAL HUX. He looks to his right and sees FINN and ROSE cowering like losers.
As the powerful shaft of his bike begins to glow, we once again hear Bruce Dickinson scream “YEEEEEEEEEAH!” and the bike blows up the entire Resistance in a sick fireball. “I’m the one true rebel now, baby,” says Luke. He looks down at the charred corpses of Rose and Finn, surrounded by the dead bodies of ANY OTHER CHARACTERS WHO AREN’T WHITE OR MALE (and also BARACK OBAMA and MY MOTHER for making me clean my room on a Saturday), pulls his sunglasses down nose and quips: “Sorry, guys, you’re just not relatable enough.”
Every single bra in the entire universe pings off upon hearing such effortless wit. Luke zooms off, leaving behind a cloud that looks like Rian Johnson giving Jar Jar Binks a blowjob.
Next Luke travels to the beautiful planet of JOR’DAN P’TERSON, a world where men are men and women are all hydraulic sex housewives who’ve been programmed never to laugh at your genitals, no matter how scarred and minuscule they happen to be. At the temple of Lucaas, Luke meets YODA and CHEWBACCA for an ice-cold beer. BOBA FETT strolls in wearing a MAGA cap. “The coolest, that guy still is,” says YODA.
But this doesn’t solve the problem of Starkiller Base, which still threatens to blow up the whole galaxy. So Luke takes the best possible course of action: re-creating the final act of A NEW HOPE beat for beat over and over again for two hours, which is the only thing that fans want anyway. The base explodes, Iron Maiden blares out of the speakers and Luke Skywalker negs a sexy alien until she agrees to have sex with him. All is right with the galaxy once more.
THE END.