Organized crime was struck a blow today when noted gangster and crime lord Jabba the Hutt passed away. Details are yet unknown, but so far officials have released the following information:
Jabba was captured and taken into custody Sunday morning by CF officials just outside the core world of Chicagoscant. He had erected a smaller yet accurate copy of his Tattooine throne room on the upscale planet of R-Lingtin Hites and was, according to authorities, holding some sort of celebratory gathering.
Due to the size and nature of the Hutt, the Force had to call in their Hazardous Materials truck (Hazmatt) to provide transportation. Jabba was loaded into the vehicle and secured with a gray covering and a rope-like substance.
The Hazmatt vehicle left Chicagoscant and headed south on Imperial highway Fifty-Five (I-55), maintaining a constant speed of 55 MPH (moles per hectare? Hey, if Han can travel a distance in less than 12 parsecs….and have you tried going 55 on the Stevenson? That is the posted limit, but people normally do 80). The trip progressed without incident until they reached Imperial highway Eighty.
Upon turning west onto I-80, the unit was faced with a 35 MPH headwind. This combined with their ground speed of 55 MPH to give a combined airspeed of 90 MPH. The gray covering holding Jabba the Hutt from escape was not designed for such velocities, and it was not long before one of the supporting grommets tore from its fabric and revealed the Huttese crime-lord to the elements.
A word of explanation here for our loyal readers: it is not common knowledge, but Jabba has a rather large indentation in the back of his cranium (watch the movie again, you’ll see it). Also, his skin is very thin and fragile at this point. When the protective tarpaulin was removed, the gale-force air current set up a vortex action between the vehicle and Jabba, causing dire effects. One dismembered arm was caught in the maelstrom and impacted the rear window where it, according to one witness, “stuck there, plaintive and sad, like it was trying to hold on, then it was gone.”
The rush of atmosphere continued its path of destruction. An exposed flap of skin caught in the current and peeled back, exposing the viscera of the great slug. The transport operators immediately brought the vehicle to a stop, but it was too late, the damage had been done. Unable to repair the damage, even to find any of the violently removed pieces, they continued on to the penal colony of Nal-Ottawa.
The remainder of the trip was not kind Jabba’s corpse. Now fully exposed to the wind, small bits and pieces felt free to detach themselves and spread over a large stretch of road. When the transport arrived at its destination, little remained of the once great piece of slime-ridden filth. One of the pilots, who had grown quite close to Jabba during their time together, was taken by his emotions and weeped openly at the sight, causing one passerby to exclaim, “Jeez, Matthew, you’re such a freak. Why did I even marry you in the first place?”
While Jabba is no longer with us, and his time on this plane of existence was brief, we have the comfort that he was laid to rest with the full honors of a crime-lord befitting his stature–in empty dumpster behind an anonymous car wash.