Chapter Two - The Jedi Council Shills

Obi Wan walked with through the Jedi temple. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the decadent bourgeois lifestyle evident within its walls, as well as the obvious use of the Jedi religion as an opiate for the people. He lead me to the Jedi council chamber, where the Jedi Masters - those traitors, those vicious attack dogs of the capitalist regime - had gathered. For many centuries they had conspired with the biased media and the Senate, to promote decadent capitalist lies about freedom and opportunity while simultaneously crushing the hopes and dreams of the working class through economic oppression and state violence.

Obi wan placed a hand on my shoulder comradely as we walked inside. Mace Windu, Yoda, Plo Koon and Ki-Adi-Mundi looked at me coldly.

"Skywalker, why are you wearing that symbol of hate?" Mace Windu asked.

"It's not a FUCKING symbol of FUCKING hate!" I cried. "Che Guevara fought against the racist Western exploitation of South America, you FUCKING RACIST!"

"Why would you think that man was a hero?" Plo Koon asked.

"I don't know, why does your FUCKING head look like a FUCKING roast chicken?" I replied.

"That is rude." Another Jedi shill said as he elitistly stepped into the room.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" I screamed as I clapped eyes on his capitalist form.

"Language, Skywalker!" Mace Windu snapped. "Now apologise to Master Yarael Poof!"

"Stop censoring my FUCKING freedom of FUCKING speech!" I shrieked in a heroic fashion, as befitted my role as a FUCKING hero of the FUCKING PEOPLE.

I stuck my middle fingers up at the council and ran from the room in a very proletariat manner.