ПРИЧА О ДОБРОМ ДРВЕТУ Овде

ПРИЧА О ДОБРОМ ДРВЕТУ Овде допишите своју причу о добром дрвету, надовезујући се једни на друге.

"Artoo says that the chances of survival are 725 to 1. Actually Artoo has been known to make mistakes... from time to time... Oh dear... "

Meanwhile, Skywalker slapped Han Solo in the back of the head, "You packed me in a stinking tauntaun? Did you think I might have hand warmers? Jeez..." Solo wished he was back with

his buddy Chewie, far from these thankless rebels. Unlike Luke, Chewie was grateful when Han saved his life. Plus, he and Chewie would never fight over the same

girl. They were just too good of friends for that. In fact, Chewie and Han were absolutely inseparable. That is, until one fateful day when the Millennium Falcon was having issues

and Chewie had a rather unorthodox way of solving them. While Han was hosing down the aftermath he noticed a smelly oddly colored discharge coming out of Chewies eyes and nose. It

was the color of stagnan swamp water. The kind you find dead animals floating in. Han proceeded to get Chewie a

Toothbrush. With gums that color he needed some sort of hygeine solution. It wasn't easy being a Wookie in a world of men, after all. But they never told you that. They couldn't.

It would crush your spirit, the only thing more vital than Colgate. Chewbacca fired up Rosetta Stone, desperate to fit into the world of men. "Say 'hello.'" "Hrrngah." "No, say

'hello!'" "HNGRAAH!!" "Chewie, no! That's the actual Rosetta Stone!" As they watched the stone smash through the nearest window, everyone shrugged comically and the credits rolled.