BRIX: Cushty little number, innit, eh?
MORT-R: Beats that Starship Enterprise lark hands down.
BRIX: So what's this job all about, then?
MORT-R: Beats that Starship Enterprise lark hands down.
BRIX: So what's this job all about, then?
Mort-R unfurls blueprints.
MORT-R: Well, what we're lookin' at 'ere, right, is yer basic Death Star. Shuttle bays, portholes, doorbell-
BRIX: Usual gubbins?
MORT-R: Usual gubbins, yeah. But Lord Vader's only stipulation is that it's gotta be 'eavily fortified.
BRIX: Bloody Rebels. So -ah - it's armaments all over, then, is it?
MORT-R: Armaments all over the place, yeah. Wall-to-wall armaments, in fact.
BRIX: How powerful does he want 'em, then?
MORT-R: [Sniffs] Enough to destroy a planet.
BRIX: Bloody hell.
MORT-R: That's what I said. He's got his eye on them Ewoks at the minute.
BRIX: Fuzzy little bastards. So, what you're saying is he wants a space station of epic proportions, powerful enough to destroy a planet, summat that'll threaten unity in the galaxy... [Thinks] Gonna cost him, innit?
MORT-R: Yeah, I'll bung him an estimate. Only we can't afford no more screw-ups, right? Not like last time.
BRIX: What're you talkin' about? Listen, that TARDIS weren't no police box when it left the shop, mate...
- To be continued, remastered and re-edited for the rest of your bloody life -
