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Stop reading here if you have not seen the movie. Stop reading here if you have not seen the movie. Stop reading here if you have not seen the movie. STOP. STOP AND SAVE YOURSELF FROM KNOWING A MINOR PLOT POINT YOU CAN FIGURE OUT LIKE 20 MINUTES INTO THE FILM RIGHT NOW YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

So the end of Star Wars has Rey, the apparently insta-Jedi, traveling across the universe to a mysterious planet. A planet called NOT A DISTILLERY PLANET/COASTAL IRELAND. She gets there via a map, a map assembled from two separate pieces after much plotting and capery, a map Luke Skywalker himself left in two pieces for REASONS TO BE EXPLAINED SHORTLY.

Rey climbs the stairs. There are easily a million stairs. Either original Jedi had a strange fetish for stairs, or Luke has broken the elevator. (Hint: we think Luke has broken the elevator, and with good reason.) At the top, she sees Luke. He's older, has a beard, and is wearing someone's robes.

They are not his robes, because Luke is completely fucking drunk.


I do not mean he is just drunk. Look at him. I mean Luke is blotto, cracked, tanked, housed, snooted, ankled, borracho. He started the bender for good reasons but has long since forgotten them. Those are not his robes. They belong to a lady who rowed away weeks ago, and who definitely did not want to stay for breakfast. His original clothes' location is a mystery.

He is almost out of pizza rolls. The situation is desperate.

Luke wasn't entirely irresponsible. He picked a good spot to have a bender. This is obviously a distillery, so picking a destination that was both lodging and supplies at the same time was pretty smart. After a while, though, it's obvious that Luke was asked to sleep somewhere other than inside the distillery. Look at that hair. He might tell you he's "an outdoorsman," but the truth is that he sleeps in a shabby lean-to at best that he shares with a half-adopted pet of some sort.

Judging from the location, it's probably a puffin. The puffin has a drinking problem, too.

Luke's X-wing is half-on, half-off the landing pad. I don't know if you can boot an X-wing for unpaid parking tickets, but if you can? It is definitely booted, then. There's a half-eaten Taco Bell bean burrito in his pocket and a note that reads "TUESDAY: FINANCIAL PLANNER APPOINTMENT WITH GARY." There is no one in the Star Wars universe named Gary. It's a world a lot like our own.

Why the rigamarole with the map, then? Easy. At one point Luke was going to need more snacks, or maybe someone to get him takeout. Food really doesn't matter in Star Wars. You see people sipping stews or chewing on some kind of nutrimeat every now and then, sure. But aside from whatever extraterrestrial vegetables Rey and Finn eat in Maz Kanata's cantina in The Force Awakens, food barely matters in the series.

When food barely matters, then you're probably already talking about pizza rolls.

Luke knew he would need resupply one day. But he didn't want anyone to find him, and he certainly doesn't really care if he knows where he is. Have you ever written your name and address on your arm before going out for a night of drinking, just so you know you could hold it up for the cab driver to see? Or so the police would maybe, possibly take you there, instead of to jail for the night? Do you look at that scene and see the face of a broken heart, or do you instead see a man tasting the reaper's edge of a hangover, and quietly hankering for pizza rolls and a bottle of Tatooine Paint Thinner to take the edge off?

Have you ever gotten so drunk you ended up in a stranger's clothing at the original Jedi Temple, staring at the sea and craving nothing more than a bowl of half-defrosted pizza rolls? Luke has. Luke doesn't have Twitter. He can't check in on Foursquare. You leave a few maps with some droids. You find a swimming pool full of liquor and then you fuckin' dive into it. You put the map in two pieces because frankly, you were drunk and full of BRILLIANT IDEAS. You put it on what appear to be thumb drives, because only drunk people would not just make a Facebook announcement like the rest of us and/or use a fucking thumb drive that you can lose in a bar.

That's what Luke is doing here. He needed someone with real skill to piece the map together and then come get him, and then fetch him more pizza rolls. Luke might leave the planet to fight the First Order. He might just sit on that rock and crack open a 24 pack of whatever Busch Light is in the Star Wars universe. To be honest, based on how bad Luke looks here, he's definitely going to crack open a 24 pack of whatever Busch Light is in the Star Wars Universe.

Luke's drunk. He wishes, more than anything, that you'd brought pizza rolls and some Pedialyte.

p.s it's Jedi tradition to flee to an isolated planet and just get trashed for like, a hundred years or so. (See below.)