DEAR MASTER DISNEY: EPISODE VII: THE HATE AWAKENS
A Fan-atical Collection of Mythical Mail by Vyrazhi, (c)2016
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Since Disney bought Lucasfilm, Ltd., I have since changed the recipient of all this fictional fan (cough) mail from a certain G.L to the aforementioned purchaser corporation itself. Hence, this. Enjoy.)
Dear Master Disney:
Beep, beedle-eedle. Eeer, deedle-eedle, dwoop?
BB-8
Dear BB-8:
I believe the word you're looking for is "redundant," and, yes, it turns out you are. At the beginning of the film, YOU are the important droid, the sole container for the battle plans to destroy the Death Starkiller Base. You are protected against any and all foes, especially those disgusting monsters in the hold of the Millennium Falcon. However, it turns out that what you are is a forerunner for the eventual meeting of Artoo-Detoo. You're like John the Baptist in the Bible – important, but nowhere near as important as Jesus. Never fear, however. You'll be back in Episode VIII, and if you want, you can laugh in droid-language about how Artoo looks like a waste receptacle.
Sincerely,
Master D.
Dear Master Disney:
I'm. Almost. An. Exact. Copy. Of. Katniss. Everdeen. WHY?
Rey
Dear Reyniss,
There's one rule in modern-day Hollywood that you NEVER break: Do NOT mess with what sells.
We here at the Mouse Factory are extremely jealous (in a borderline-insane way) that some no-name studio named Color Force (WTF is that, but a lame parody of THE Force?) got the Hunger Games production rights before we did. When we saw how gaga girls around the world went over Miss Everdeen – girls that were too old to go gaga over Elsa and Anna – we knew we had to get in on the action. So we created you, from the top of your head, to the tips of your toes, to the whack of your fighting stick, almost precisely like your predecessor. Why? You're what's called a "character template." You're strong and tough – heck, even stronger than Luke Skywalker was at your age – and will please all the rabid feminist – er, female – fans of our franchise. You're also good-hearted, like Katniss, and abhor violence at your core, which is why you'll never make a good Sith.
Anyway, you're not exactly "sui generis," and if you don't know what that means, good. Neither do 99% of the people who watch Star Wars films. What should matter to you is that you're the hero. Your name should be "Mary Sue" in certain sections of Episode VII, but that's the good thing about you. You can even kick Luke's butt.
So in the name of marketing, be satisfied with all the power we've given you, so early-on in your story arc.
Sincerely,
Walt's Cryogenically-Frozen Remains
Dear Master Disney:
Why meesa not in this movie? Boo hoo hooey!
Jar-Jar Binks
Dear Fart-Fart Stinks:
SHUT. THE. FORCE. UP.
Mickey (aka Mortimer) Mouse
Dear Master Disney:
Sanitation? Seriously?
FN-2187
Dear Finn,
What were we supposed to do, make you into Kylo Ren's new apprentice who betrayed him? L to the NO. First off, all the toddler boys around the world who run around in Darth Vader masks and capes forget one thing: Darth Vader killed MILLIONS of people. He was worse than Hitler, and yet they think he's cool. Finn, we couldn't have you too far gone down the path of the Dark Side, no matter how humiliating doing sanitation aboard Death Starkiller Base was. You are a paradox: a grunt with almost superhuman powers, an Ubermensch (don't worry if you don't know what that is) relegated to emptying waste receptacles. Let's face it: Most humans who watch our movies work at some job they hate for a monolithic corporation. So did you, so they can identify with you more. Now, you may be pissed because of this, but that's the way life goes, even in a galaxy far, far away. Dig it?
Sincerely,
Yesnid
Dear Master Disney:
Why am I such a punk B? (Credit goes to SNL for that one)
Kylo Ren
Dear Hunter Tylo (she's a soap opera actress) Ren,
Repeat after me: I am not Darth Vader.
Afterthought: Why didn't Finn and Rey whip you? Because we didn't LET them, so stop whining, you punk B.
Sincerely,
Animatronics with Actual Animae (souls, that is, not THAT Anime)
Dear Master Disney:
Why did I die? At my own son's HAND, no less? I'm INDIANA FREAKING JONES! I should have -
Dear Han Solo,
Let us stop you right there, before you plunge this fan-mail entry nto M-rated territory. Kylo Ren almost did, so we've got to be careful. The truth is this: It was either you or Chewbacca. Why you, though? Three things: 1) You're old. 2) Today's teens and tweens probably haven't seen you in your heyday, when you were Mr. Jones, or even the lame remake starring Russians as the bad guys. 3) No matter how many aliens we – er, Lucasfilm, who we now own – has created for this film ennealogy, "Wookiee" is code for "DOG." Everybody hates it when dogs die. They could care less about the people when poor Old Yeller gets shot (oops, spoiler alert) or when Hachiko of "Hachi: A Dog's Tale" perishes waiting for his dead master to come home. (Oops again.) The point is, if we would have killed Chewbacca off, 99% of the people who love these movies would never watch another one.
Dogs rule. Humans drool.
Bolt, Tramp, Lady, Copper the Hound, Perdita, Pongo and Pups, Georgette, Dodger, and all the rest
Dear Master Disney:
Oh, dear. Why are we even in this movie? (Bwooooop?)
Artoo-Detoo and See-Threepio
Dear Retro Droids:
Because nostalgia. Because toy sales. Because not all Millennials are twenty-somethings. Because you beep.
Sincerely,
Wall-E, Mr. Spell, EVE, and all the rest
Dear Master Disney:
How am I any different from Yoda?
Maz Kanata
Dear Orange Yogurt – er, excuse us, Orange Yoda:
Talk like he does, you do not. The end, it is.
The CGI Engineers