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- Choose life.
Choose the force. Choose the Rebel Alliance.
Choose a family. Choose a fucking big
battlecruiser. Choose R2 units with hologram
players and electrical door openers. Choose good
health, low cholesterol and Jedi mind tricks.
Choose fixed interest Jabba repayments. Choose a
home planet. Choose your allies. Choose
tupperware and matching aunties. Choose a light
sabre on hire purchase in a range of fucking
colours. Choose farming and wondering who the
fuck you are as the suns are setting. Choose
sitting watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing
musical numbers, stuffing fucking frogs in your
mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all,
pishing your last in a shiny black mask, nothing
more than an embarrassment to the selfish fucked
up brats you spawned to replace yourself.
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Choose the future. Choose life.
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