I’ve lived a long, happy life and all I had to do was dress up as Chewbacca every other decade or so. I didn’t even have to talk or grunt. All of those Chewbacca noises are combinations of lions, bears, and a constipated George Lucas trying to squeeze one out. You know that sad, resigned little wail Chewbacca does? That’s George when he looks down into the toilet bowl after straining for two hours and sees a turd about the size and consistency of a brown M&M. Another bit of Star Wars trivia: George played the black Ewok, and he sometimes filled in for Kenneth George Baker when the R2D2 can got too hot. Kenneth told me he sometimes found little brown M&Ms in there afterward, they were a bit melted but free chocolate is free chocolate. I never had the heart to tell him.
Dying is never pleasant, and I feel badly for those I’ve left behind, but it was time. I was forgetting names, losing my train of thought, and I had shrank down to 7 feet tall after being a solid 7’2” my entire life. Did you know that if you’re seven feet tall, there’s an 18% chance you’re playing in the NBA right now? You just stand in the post, or at least you could get away with that in the old days, but the rules now, it’s barely even the same game. Jordan would average 50 in today’s game.
I’m grateful I got to play with Jordan, and I’m glad I died before that idiot Trump got elected. The Americans aren’t that crazy or mean spirited, are they? Hillary is no picnic either, but Trump, my dear God no. Either way, I’m glad I missed it, just in case some electoral debacle put that idiot into office.
Jordan and Chewbacca, what a combo! We could play inside out or outside in. How do you stop that? When you’ve got a guy like Jordan on your side, there’s no place to hide. You’ve got to clog the lane and you can’t leave him alone out by the perimeter, either. He’ll burn you. He’ll burn you every time. And if you double team him, he’ll just kick it into Chewbacca for the slamajama!
Now that I’m dead, maybe you can tell me some of the secrets of the universe. Is Elvis still alive? What about bigfoots and the Loch Ness monster? I swear I saw a Yeti in Tibet, the Tibetans talk about Yetis like we talk about garden tortoises. They even paint pictures of them, just like the English with their rabbits.
Peter “Chewbacca” Mayhew
PS: Who’s going to be the next Chewbacca? I think Shaq would make a great Chewbacca, or at least better than CGI. He’s got the height, only he might be too fat. Chewbacca is supposed to be lean and sexy, like Emma Watson.
You’ve come up with a winning idea. I’ll breed Emma Watson and Shaq to make the next Chewbacca. Disney said they were going to take a break from making Star Wars movies anyway, so there’ll be plenty of time for the magnificent Hermione/Kazaam offspring to be conceived and mature. And if I have to play around with time to make it work, I will.
As to your questions—strange that you’d write a letter instead of just walking down the street to my office and asking me in person, but I get it. This Heaven thing can be confusing. Anyway, unfortunately there are neither Yetis nor Nessies. Ironically, most Big Foot sightings can be traced back to those times when Star Wars was shooting on location and you got drunk and wandered off set in full costume. Another strange truth: garden tortoises are also fictional, though the explanation for all the tortoise sightings is much too complex to get into now. And, although Shaq really exists, 90% of all Shaq sightings are hallucinations, including some of his old televised NBA games. Science can be weird. This is because my Dad let me invent some of the laws of physics when I was too young to know what the Hell I was doing. This explains why bees can fly and why giraffes have such ridiculous necks.
Dying may not be fun, but I think you’ll like Heaven once you get used to it. To help you get oriented, I’ve moved you in next door to Carrie and Kenny. As you’ll soon see, Carrie is still her fun, wacky self. Stay away from her on April Fool’s Day, though. This year, she replaced my toilet seat with a bear trap. As God, I don’t technically need to shit, but I sometimes get nostalgic for my human days. That day for lunch, Carrie took me out for Indian food and frozen yogurt, knowing full well what that would do to my bowels. A half hour later, when I sat down on the throne…well, you get the idea. Luckily, violence in Heaven is as it is in cartoons: good clean fun with no lasting consequences.
Good on you for getting into Heaven—you deserve it. Selfishly, I’m a little jealous, though. Heaven is slated to get all good the Star Wars peeps, while I’ll be stuck with J.J. Abrams, Rian Johnson, Alden Ehrenreich, and Hayden Christensen. Admittedly, Christensen will be a good get for me because he’s an Evangelical and those guys are really fun to torture. They’re always like “Why am I down here in Hell? Didn’t I hate gays enough?” Then I’m like “actually you hated gays too much. Also, you were greedy, racist, sexist, and too dumb to accept evolution.” Then they get the cobras in the rectum. But still, I’d rather have the main Star Wars crew. Man, if I had you, Mark, Harrison, Carrie, Jimmy Earl (that’s what I call James Earl Jones, obviously) and “the rest”, we’d have so much fun. Your only torture would be that I’d occasionally require you guys to act out my fan scripts. Would that be awful? Yes. Would it be “cobras in the rectum” awful? Well, I guess that depends on what you thought of The Last Jedi, which I ghost wrote. Some say that even watching that movie was torture.
Have an uncomfortable question? Need some advice about your deviant behavior? If so, then it’s time to pray. Email your question to firstname.lastname@example.org, and it shall be answered in a Divine Advice column by Jesus and Satan