Cloneword!

~35 ABY

From the erotic desk of Clone Trooper Clyde,  

   Howdy readers! I say readers, because you are one of the few people left in this galaxy with the excess leisure time to dedicate to such a costly and outmoded form of entertainment as paper book reading.  I mean seriously, y'all must be the biggest block of entitled assholes in the "far, far away".  We got holocrons, holograms, cantina bands, and super fly twi'lek girls, and your ass is sitting in some hundred thousand credit a fracto-cycle apartment on Couriscant, reading a damned book.  I fucking hate you.  Smug Bantha cum turds.

     My name is Clone Trooper Clyde.  You know that, its on the cover of the damned book.  I can get away with calling you Bantha butter, despite vehement opposition from my publisher and editor, because despite the bloodstripe shitting expanse of our galaxy, you've heard of me.  You want to know the Clone behind the ranging Bone.  You can know both, I promise.  But I warn you, those that know me, have nightmares about me (shout out to my boy Boba Chef, Holla!  Hows the therapy?).

    So why am I talking to you when I have a perfectly good  brothel to run?  Well, one day, a bunch of Quonkies (thats Quarren honkies for the uninitiated) came to me and asked me if I would be interested in writing, compiling, blah, a history of my life and exploits across the Clone wars, the Galactic Civil War, and whatever the fuck we're calling this latest mess of First Ordering? So I said 

  "What the hell a bunch a Squid people need damn books for?  You fish motherfuckers live in a damn ocean!  And don't give me no bullshit about holocron jibber jabber.  Every time there is a coup or something theres always somebody blowing them up or stealing them or some shit.  I know, I done it, like twice. There were fucking Jedi's swinging shit around like a buch of book layering Nazis or some shit.  It was loud and explody.  I'd rather do that honestly, I'm good at it. And then its lost forever.  Shit, we got all this technology, computers, none of its connected.  Theres got to be a series of tubes for that or something.  I ain't no Al Gore, who is a name I just made up.  I mean, these dumb fuckers lost all the maps of the galaxy in one damn R2 unit!  Who does that? New Republic my clone balls. " But then they said the money part. 

   "How much?" I asked.  They said

   "How much will it take?"  I drew them a technical chart.  See graphic 1a. (see "graphic").

1a.

Here we are, Just for the record, I phoned this in and everyone else worked very hard on it.  Enjoy you farts, until the next coup. Where I get to smash every copy.  Again.

Clonecerely, 

   Clone Trooper Clyde (ST-058)