OTF's Blue Publication November
63. EXT. TATOOINE - MOS EISLEY - STREET - PRE-CARNIVAL.
Deepio paces in front of the cantina, drinking a chilled can of oil as Ajay carries on an electronic conversation with another little red astro-droid. He's flirting, but at least he's not hitting on the trash cans nearby again. A creature (anteater?) comes out of the cantina and approaches two stormtroopers in the street.
DEEPIO
I don't like the look of this *slurp*. This had better not interrupt my drinking time.
64. MOS EISLEY BROS - CANTINA/NIGHT CLUB/CREAM TEA ROOM.
Strange creatures (That's so rude. How come the humans are human but everyone else is a creature? That's alienist that!) play exotic big band music (Glen Miller with a Morrocan twist anyone?) on odd-looking instruments as Osiris, still giddy from his collision with the furnishings, downs a fresh drink and follows Ma-Jin and KypDBacca to a booth where Hobbie Solo is sitting. Hobbie is a tough, roguish starpilot about thirty- *mumbles the rest* years old. A mercenary on a starship, he is simple (their words, not mine), sentimental, and cocksure. In other words, he's a smartypants.
HOBBIE
Hobbie Solo. I'm captain of the Minumin... Millaminun...Maluoomi... Eminem *darn it!* Falcon! I'm the Captain of the Falcon! Kyppy here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaanduran system.
MA-JIN
Yes, indeedy-doo. If it's a fast ship.
HOBBIE
Fast ship? You've never heard of the Mimmiman... Mamoomami... *darn it* You've never heard of the Falcon?
MA-JIN
Should I have? By the way, nice going on the hard sell there, inspires such confidence...
HOBBIE
Yeah, well, whatevah! It's the ship that made the KesselPestleVessel run in less than twelve parsecs!
*tumbleweed moment*
HOBBIE (Contd.)
I've outrun Imperial Tortilla-Chips, not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you. I'm talking about the big Corellian ships now... which I can tell means nothing to you because you're giving me a really glassy stare. Look just take it from me, she's fast enough for you, old man, we have flames painted on the side and dangly dice in the window! What's the cargo?
MA-JIN
Only passengers, though I suppose a couple of them could ride cargo if that's cheaper? Myself, the boy (oi, I'm old enough to drive you know!), two droids, and no questions asked- though you did just ask one so that's kind of a silly thing to say. No further questions asked, yeah, yeah, go with that.
HOBBIE
What is it? Some kind of local trouble? Trashed a hotel room? You're not in a band I hope?
MA-JIN
Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements.
HOBBIE
Well, that's the trick, isn't it? Sounds painful, too. And it's going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand in advance and... oh, I don't know... Tatooine take out? With Force-tune cookies?
OSIRIS
Ten thousand? And take out? We could almost buy our own ship for that!
HOBBIE
But who's going to fly it, kid! You? *sticks out tongue*
OSIRIS
You bet I could. I'm not such a bad pilot myself despite the fact I only have Ace Combat 1 on an emulator. We don't have to sit here and listen...
MA-JIN
We haven't that much with us. But we could pay you two thousand and cookies now, plus fifteen when we reach Alderaanduran, and no take out.
HOBBIE
Seventeen, huh? Hah, I didn't even need to use my fingers to figure that out!
Hobbie ponders this for a few moments. No one sees him checking on his fingers underneath the table.
HOBBIE
Okay. You guys got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking bay Ninety-four and don't forget the cookies!
MA-JIN
Ninety-four *he writes the number on Osiris's sleeve*
HOBBIE
Looks like somebody's beginning to take an interest in your handiwork.
Ma-jin and Osiris turn around to see four Imperial stormtroopers holding up pieces of the dead bodies and asking Hagrid some questions. The bartender points to the booth, waving a severed arm and hitting a nearby patron across the upper appendages.
TROOPER
All right my little dude, we'll so be checking it out.
The stormtroopers look over at the booth, but Osiris and Ma-Jin are gone. The bartender shrugs his shoulders in puzzlement, not seeing them escape under Ma-Jin's brown cloak of blending-in-poorly.
HOBBIE
Seventeen thousand! *Stares at his fingers* Those guys must really be desperate, or can't count either! This could really save my neck. Get back to the ship and put some fresh batteries in the engine.
65. EXT. TATOOINE - MOS EISLEY - STREET - PRE-CARNIVAL
MA-JIN
You'll have to sell your speeder, I don't have enough loose change for the cookies.
OSIRIS
That's okay. I'm never coming back to this planet again. It smells.