"Chewie!" The Corellian's irate bellow sounded throughout the ship. "Where's the hydrospanner?"
"Arrourrgh!" came the reply from somewhere on top of the Falcon.
R2-D2 gave an evil little electrosonic chuckle to himself and carefully lay down the tool clasped in his extendable claw arm. Hearing the footsteps of an approaching Wookiee, he cheerfully rolled down the corridor and entered the cockpit, just as Chewbacca announced his success.
Less than five minutes later, Solo howled through the ship again, from somewhere up above this time. "Chewie!"
"Rrrrawwwrrrooor!"
"What did you do with the laser cutter?" Han bawled.
"Goooouaarrghh!" Artoo, busily reprogramming the dejarik table, swerved out of the way just in time to avoid being smashed into droid pancake by a rampaging and raging seven-foot hairball.
Whistling softly and thoughtfully to himself, Artoo unobtrusively made himself scarce as a triumphant yowl sounded from the cockpit.
This is what happens to you when you form the habit of repeatedly saving the galaxy (and generally letting the organics take the credit,) and abruptly no longer need to save the galaxy.
So hard to get into the habit of going to bed early...so easy to slip into the habit of staying up late.
Thanks to all my reviewers on my previous section.