"Now son, you know that you have duties that you need to take care of. The sooner you get them done, the sooner you can go hunt those pesky varmints."
Dingo was really frustrated that his Dad didn't let him do what he wanted. "You never let me do what I want!" yelled Dingo.
"Actually son, I've been letting you do whatever you want all these years, and maybe that's the problem. You've been a spoiled little brat, and it's about time I swatted you about the buttocks with a light saber to teach you a lesson."
Dingo knew this was an empty threat, because the family didn't actually own a light saber. They didn't really own much of anything, because, unfortunately, they were poor moisture farmers living on the ice planet of Hoth. Now, you're thinking why would you need a moisture farmer on Hoth? It's an ice planet, so all anybody would actually need to do to get some water - or "moisture"
as some people like to call it - would be to just grab a hunk of snow. And, the answer is, you don't really need moisture farmers at all. Which is why they were so poor. You see, it all comes down to supply and demand. There was a crapload of supply and also a crapload of demand (because people, being human and all, need water to live.) The problem is that since they were able to get it all by themselves, nobody was willing to actually buy the "moisture".
Anyhoo, Dingo went out and tended to his chores. They were dull, nameless chores which I won't even bother to describe, they were so boring and dull.
At the end of the day, when the four suns (give or take) of Hoth set, Dingo went back to his little cave which his family shared with that big abominable snow monster thing to save on rent. They liked to call him "Da 'Bom". They'd be like, man, you're "Da 'Bom!" Because he actually was pretty cool. Jingo and 'Bom would chill out (get it?) and listen to records all afternoon. It was fun. He was also really snuggly.
One day, Dingo and 'Bom were sitting around in the cave playing that chess game thing with the holographic board except they were so poor that their game was not holographic at all. Rather it was made out of an old cardboard box, and they used those little twisties you use to tie the trash bags shut to make the little monster guys.
Then, there was a knock on the cave.
"Who is it?" yelled Jingo's mom.
"It's Muldoon Carvassian. I've come to collect Dingo. He's going to be a Jedi, even though he's way too old and has thusfar shown no perceivable talent."
"But wait a second, I don't know you at all. And why do you need him to be a Jedi? I thought the Jedis were all dead."
"No, they're not all dead. Just because we're on the planet Hoth doesn't mean we're in the timeframe of Episode 5, or 'V' depending on your mood."
"Good point," said Jingo's Mom, who is not actually his real Mom. Damn it I gave it away. Fuck. "Okay, then, Jarvis, have fun! Don't get light sabered!"