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Prologue "Remastered Edition": Before the Fall
Not so long ago, on a ranch far, far away…
It started with a thought.
A fleeting, insignificant flicker—
Barely noticeable.
It should have passed, faded.
It did not.
Instead, it grew.
An idea, impossible yet undeniable.
A shape forming, something that should not exist.
The warnings were there, voices whispered.
This was not the path laid out, the future envisioned.
Hesitation was drowned in certainty.
Doubt was swept aside, ignored.
The course was set.
Irreversible.
Creation became indistinguishable from destruction.
The past would not survive it.
The future would never escape it.
The choice would ripple through time.
***
Episode 1138 “Special Edition”: A New... WHAT!?
George Lucas sat, fingers still.
Skywalker Ranch filled with silence, the storm gathering in his mind.
The window framed a golden California afternoon, but inside, the air was thick—
The prequels were in motion, story mapped out.
The world was his.
Yet, there was a thought, a whisper.
A new character, light-hearted.
Different.
STAR WARS had always balanced myth and humor—
The solemn, the absurd in careful measure.
He understood the formula, knew the rhythms.
His advisors did not.
“It doesn’t fit,” one said.
“It’s a mistake,” another warned.
The caution was predictable.
They saw only risk, potential cracks.
Lucas heard, he did not listen.
He had built an empire.
He shaped childhoods, defied doubters before.
He trusted himself.
He waved off their concerns, moved forward.
The ink dried.
Jar-Jar Binks was created.
A decision sealed in silence.
The sketches finalized, voice cast.
In the STAR WARS universe, a disturbance—
Ignored, dismissed.
The galaxy would never be the same.
***
Episode 1138 “DVD Edition”: The Fan Menace
The premiere arrived.
The lights dimmed.
The theater hushed, charged with expectation.
A tension crackled through the seats—
Fans sat forward, critics leaned in.
The galaxy far, far away…, unfolding with sweeping spectacle.
Then, he arrived.
Jar-Jar stumbled onto the screen.
Movements exaggerated, his voice shrill.
The audience flinched.
At first—a pause, hesitation.
Then, the murmurs.
Soft, uncertain.
Then louder, sharp.
Then cutting.
Confusion and irritation twisted into disbelief.
Disbelief into something worse.
The cheers of nostalgia faded, uneasy silence.
Lucas did not move in his chair; his grip tightened.
He could feel it—
The reaction, the unease rolling like waves.
He watched, he waited.
The first reviews landed swiftly.
Not just harsh, personal.
The betrayal in each sentence.
Disappointment in every word.
“Why!?” they asked.
“How could this happen!?”
Lucas read them all.
Some were ruthless. Some were clinical.
Some tore into the character, the tone, the misplaced comedy.
Others aimed higher.
At HIM.
More than criticism, this was history being rewritten.
Admiration into scrutiny, praise into resentment.
The warnings had been there, doubts had been voiced.
He had ignored them.
Now, it was too late.
But the backlash was only beginning.
The memes surfaced, late-night jokes.
Condescending rewatches, dissected frame by frame.
It was no longer just a failed character.
It was an emblem of everything wrong in modern film—
Indulgence unchecked, vision unchallenged.
And Lucas?
Lucas sat in silence.
The fans had spoken.
But the saga was already set in motion.
Jar-Jar would return.
***
Episode 1138 “Blu-Ray Edition”: The Corporate Empire
Time passed.
The mistake would not fade.
The prequels continued, the damage done.
Jar-Jar haunted every discussion, every mention of Lucas’ name.
More than a character—he became a symbol.
A point of contention, a reference in debates.
A shadow over Lucas’ legacy.
There was regret, though he never spoke of it.
The fans did.
The critics did.
The industry did.
His empire still stood, the saga still endured.
But the world had changed.
The myth had cracked.
The trust had faded.
Then the sale.
The Mouse took STAR WARS.
The franchise no longer his burden.
No longer his fault.
A relief, a loss.
They moved on, rebranded.
They spoke of new visions.
They promised fresh starts.
But Jar-Jar remained.
Every retrospective remembered him.
Every list recalled his failure.
The stain would not lift.
Lucas sat in his quiet retreat, reflecting.
He had built an empire.
He had crafted myths.
He had shaped a generation.
Yet, Jar-Jar followed him.
And will—
Forever.
***
Episode 1138 “4K Ultra HD Restoration”: The Beard Strikes Back
Lucas sat in silence.
The world against him.
The saga he built—
Dissected, debated, and distorted.
He had shaped myths, forged legends.
The past was a burden, the legacy was fractured.
Jar-Jar remained.
But beneath the surface, a fire burned.
“If these fools thought Jar-Jar was so bad,” he muttered, a bitter smile creeping across his face, “…just wait.”
He picked up the phone, took a breath.
A single command, a single order.
“Execute Order 666. NOW!!”
The order was absolute.
The purge began.
Cosplay stormtroopers, fanboys—really—kicking in doors.
Storming private vaults, ripping reels from their resting places.
Collectors pleaded, curators protested.
Vaults unlocked, archives emptied.
Private collections confiscated.
Not even the Library of Congress was safe.
Not a single reel survived.
Fires burned high, smoke curling into the sky.
Ash scattered, memories faded.
The original 1977 theatrical release—
No Episode IV, no remasters, no special editions—
Wiped from existence.
History itself had forgotten, fans never will.
Lucas sat back, a mix of satisfaction and sorrow.
He had created STAR WARS.
And now—
He had ended it.
Not just to erase a character, but to silence the critics.
To reclaim his narrative, even if it meant sacrificing his legacy.
In that moment, spite became his muse.
He would not be defined by their laughter.
He would not be a punchline.
He would be the architect of his own fate.
***
Epilogue "Anniversary Edition": The Last Mistake
The fires burned out.
The reels were gone.
The past—
Erased.
Lucas sat alone.
For decades, they had praised him.
Celebrated him, immortalized him.
No longer.
The Maker had undone his own legend.
Fans clamored for the original, untouched reels.
A relic of a bygone era.
They begged.
He denied.
They pleaded.
He destroyed.
Not just an edit, not just a remaster.
A PURGE.
No studio held the originals.
No collector possessed an intact reel.
No archive could provide sanctuary.
All of it—
Gone.
And with that—
Lucas had accomplished the impossible.
He was less popular than Jar-Jar.
He was hated more than the Emperor.
A phantom menace in the truest sense.
At conventions, his name was whispered with disdain.
Spat out in frustration.
He had shaped childhoods—then burned them.
He had built an empire—then leveled it.
And now, he sat alone.
Not as the visionary.
Not as the rebel filmmaker.
But as the villain of his own saga.
No redemption, no return.
Only myth.
And so STAR WARS lived—
Not as films, but as echoes.
In anger.
In loss.
In the smoldering ruins of what once was—
And what would never be again.
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