MITCH: Hello, and welcome to "The Imp Report". I'm Mitch--

LARRY: And I'm Larry!

MITCH: We've got an extra exciting report for you today, folks. For today marks the launch of the Empire's latest project--a defensive station the size of a small moon. A station designed purely for the purpose of keeping all you loyal Imperial citizens safe and secure.

LARRY: Now, we know you've seen the Rebel propaganda regarding all this.

MITCH: Scurrilous lies, is more like it!

LARRY: They say this station will be used to oppress the people, to grind you all under our booted heel. They call it the "Death Star" (he makes air quotes with his fingers). Folks, that couldn't be farther from the truth. This station is purely for your protection.

MITCH: That's right. And it's not called the Death Star. I've seen the official paperwork, and the station's real designation is....You ready for this, Larry?

LARRY: Hit me, bro.

MITCH: The Funball. LARRY: That's so festive!

MITCH: Sure is. The Funball is there to defeat this dangerous Rebellion before it hurts you and yours, good citizens, and to take care of any other threats that may arise that threaten the sanctity of the Empire's populace.

LARRY: Because who knows what else may be out there? I mean, for all we know, someday the galaxy may be invaded by an extra-galactic race obsessed with bio-technology and ritualistic body-mutilation.

(MITCH raises a skeptical eyebrow.)

LARRY: What? It could happen. And you'd damn well want the Funball around then, wouldn't you?

MITCH: Indeed you would, Larry. Indeed you would. We go now live to our man on the spot, Chip Charger, who's covering the event for us. Chip? Can you hear us?

(The picture changes to show CHIP CHARGER, microphone in hand, standing with a couple of Imperial techs at their station next to the blast chamber of one of the Death Star's giant lasers.)

CHIP: Mitch, Larry, I'm here on the Funball with two loyal technicians. They may not be on the front lines wielding blasters, but their service is vital to the function of this station. (He turns to the techs, holds the microphone toward them.) Can I get your names, please?

TECH #1: (looking nervously in the camera) Uh...I'm Horrel Gov.

TECH #2: And I'm Jev Rellin.

CHIP: Wonderful. This has got to be an exciting day for you. The launch of this grand station you've put so much work into. I mean, look at this. (he turns toward the blast chamber.) When this weapon fires--purely for defensive purposes, of course--you're right here to watch it happen. In fact, we've got an image of one the early test firings, showing you two in action. Let's take a look.

CHIP: Wow! You could practically reach out and touch the beam! That must be thrilling!

JEV: Thrilling. Yeah. Would've been even nicer if they'd given us some damn shielding.

HORREL: (looking uncomfortable, laying a hand on JEV's shoulder) Jev, man, don't go there.

JEV: (brushing HORREL's hand off) No, I'm tired of this! (he looks at CHIP) You want to know what it's like? (he tears off his helmet, showing a balding head) My hair's falling out, man! My teeth are coming loose! I can't have children anymore! And why? Because my workstation is next to a gigantic...frickin'...laser beam!!

(CHIP makes a surreptitious gesture to someone off-screen.)

JEV: This wasn't what I was promised! This wasn't in the brochure! They told me if I signed up, I'd be getting tons of chicks and booze. Where the hell--

(A blue stun beam hits JEV from off-camera, and he slumps to the floor. Hands reach in and pull him away.)

CHIP: Well, it seems all the excitement of the day has gotten to Jev. But we've all been known to get a little crazy when we're over-enthused, haven't we? Not to worry, though--I'm sure he'll be right as rain after a good nap. How about you, Horrel? How are you feeling about seeing this station launch?

(The tip of a blaster appears at the far edge of the screen, pointed at Horrel. He glances at it nervously.)

HORREL: (forcing a smile) I'm, uh...totally jazzed.

CHIP: (turning back to the camera) Totally jazzed. I can't think of any better way to sum up the mood on this station. Reporting from the Funball, this is Chip Charger. Back to you.

MITCH: Chip, we've heard that Grand Moff Tarkin has been placed in command of the station. Can you confirm this?

CHIP: Indeed I can, Mitch. In fact, I spoke with him briefly, and off-the-record at his request, but he seemed to be a tad preoccupied; one might even say he was growing irritated with my questions. Understandable, really--he's got a lot on his plate. Finally, he just asked me what planet I was from, and made a note of it in his datapad. Not quite sure what that means, but...(he shrugs).

LARRY: Thanks for the report, Chip. Have a good trip back.

(The picture changes back to MITCH and LARRY at their anchor desk.)

MITCH: (Glancing at LARRY) This will be a day long remembered, my friend.

LARRY: Indeed it will. The Funball has arrived--and we're all that much safer because of it.

MITCH: (looking to the camera) And that'll do it for this report. Until next time, I'm Mitch--

LARRY: And I'm Larry, reminding you that...

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