STAR WARS: Vader vs. Watto

Watto raises his arms. “Annie! Is that you? All black, very slimming!”

Vader’s lightsaber sparks red. “You enslaved my mother, Watto.”

“Ah shit.”

“I’ve come for revenge.”

“Annie, wait! I can get you a discount on capacitor nodes. I can get cheap Ewok girls from-HGRK.” Watto grasps his own throat.

Vader lifts the slug snout alien into the air. “Enough.”

“Ack! Annie!” Watto rasps. “Why’d you ignite the saber if you’re just gonna choke me?!”

Vader clenches his fingers. “Silence!”

Watto spasms. “Aaargh!” His head slumps, his arms fall limp.

Vader relaxes. “Good bye, Watto.”

“Eh he he. 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆.” Watto looks up. “Is this how you treat an old friend?”

“No.” Vader’s hand quakes. “This is the full might of the Force. How do you draw breath?”

“Aah, Annie.”

“How are you still talking?”

“It’s like I told Qui-Gon all those years ago: your jedi tricks won’t work on me. I’m Toydarian.”

“I’m 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 your trachea.”

“Oh, Annie. All this time and you never realized—all Toydarians are ventriloquists.”

“What?”

“We don"t breathe with our throats.”

Vader staggers. “You mean?!”

“That’s right, Annie.” Watto’s grin splits wide, a manic glimmer in his eye. “I’ve been talking out of my 𝗮𝘀𝘀 the whole time.”