April 3rd, 1979
George had come down with a bad cold and for three day’s straight he’d been existing on a diet of malt liquor and Night Nurse. He’d never been much of a drinker and I was a little worried about his mental state, so I told him to take the afternoon off and go get some shut eye.
The next morning I was on set bright and early and asked where George was at but nobody had seen him hide nor hair of him since yesterday. I poured myself a cognac and prepared to send out a search party when I got a call from NASA mission control at Cape Canaveral. They said they had George in custody and could I get over there right away and collect him.

The officer in charge told me they’d caught him trying to board a rocket with a sackful of toys and, when they asked him what the hell he was doing, he said he wanted to release his little children into outer space. Then he started crying and begging forgiveness for destroying some place called Alderaan.


After that day I never saw Lucas with a drink in his hand again. As for me, well, that was the day I started taking three valium before breakfast instead of two.
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