I'm going to rewrite the entirety of this script over time until it's complete and I will never give up.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637489)

In a galaxy far, far away (specifically, a basement in Northern Virginia), a legendary saga begins.

Imagine the opening crawl, but instead of "A long time ago," it’s just the **[X]** button and a 100-page thread titled *"ITT: We cope and seethe about the Rebel Alliance."*

---

### **STAR WARS: EPISODE IV – A NEW HOPE (The XOXO Cut)**

**EXT. SPACE**

The silence of the vacuum is broken by a massive **Star Destroyer**—the *HYS-Tier Overlord*—thundering across the screen. It is currently "negging" a tiny Rebel cruiser.

**INT. REBEL CRUISER - HALLWAY**

Alarms blare. Smoke everywhere. **C-3PO** and **R2-D2** are waddling through the corridor.

**C-3PO**

> "R2, this is a total disaster. The structural integrity of this ship is absolute **low-tier**. We’re basically 0Ls in a room full of Kirkland & Ellis partners. We are so finished. It’s over."

**R2-D2**

> *(Beeps a series of offensive slurs and a link to a 2014 thread about C-3PO’s 'gold plating' being a cope for his lack of a T14 degree.)*

Suddenly, the door blasts open. **STORMTROOPERS** rush in. They aren't shooting yet; they’re just spamming the "Report" button and posting "Post face" in the Rebel chat.

Then, a tall, dark figure enters. **DARTH VADER**. He breathes heavily, the sound of a man who hasn't seen sunlight since the 2008 financial crisis. He looks at a Rebel soldier and speaks.

**DARTH VADER**

> "Where are the transmissions? If you don't give me the plans for the Death Star, I’m going to **dox** your entire family on a public forum. You think you're safe? I’ve already found your LinkedIn. You’re a mid-level associate at a boutique firm in Ohio. **0/10, would not bang.**"

**REBEL SOLDIER**

> "We’re a diplomatic mission! We have rights!"

**DARTH VADER**

> *(Force chokes him)*

> "Cope. Seethe. Dilate."

---

**INT. ESCAPE POD BAYS**

**PRINCESS LEIA** is hiding in the shadows. She isn't recording a holographic message; she’s busy uploading a "POV: You’re about to destroy the Galactic Empire" TikTok and posting it to the main board.

She bends down to **R2-D2**.

**LEIA**

> "R2, take these plans to Obi-Wan Kenobi. Tell him he’s our only hope. Also, tell him to check the thread on page 4—someone is claiming he’s actually a 'short-king' and I need him to post a timestamped photo next to a ruler."

**R2-D2**

> *(Beeps dismissively)*

> "Lurk moar, Your Highness."

R2 and 3PO jump into the escape pod. As they jettison toward Tatooine, 3PO looks out the window at the exploding ship.

**C-3PO**

> "I hope there’s good Wi-Fi down there. If I can't check the 'Vault' to see who got fired today, I’m going to have a literal motherboard meltdown."

---

### **What’s next?**

Would you like me to rewrite the **Cantina Scene**, but it's just a bunch of anonymous posters arguing over who has the highest LSAT score?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637555)

---

### **INT. CHALMUN’S CANTINA - DAY**

The air is thick with blue smoke and the sound of the Modal Nodes playing a lo-fi remix of "Entry of the Gladiators." The patrons aren't just aliens; they are a collection of prestige-obsessed trolls, disgruntled associates, and guys who have been "poised to strike" since 2012.

**OBI-WAN**

> "Luke, be careful. This is the main thread. Don't look anyone in the eye, or they’ll ask for your 'stats' and tell you you’re **NGMI** (Not Gonna Make It)."

They walk toward the bar. A massive **AQUALISH** (Ponda Baba) and a scarred human (Dr. Evazan) bump into Luke.

**DR. EVAZAN**

> "He doesn't like you. I don't like you either. You look like a **TTT** (Third-Tier Toiler) transfer student. Look at that tunic—pure Walmart tier. Post face and height or GTFO."

**LUKE**

> "I’m just looking for a pilot..."

**DR. EVAZAN**

> "I have the death sentence on twelve systems! I’m a high-flying PE associate with a 180 LSAT! You’re nothing but a **flyover state pleb**."

Obi-Wan sighs, draws his lightsaber, and in one swift motion, severs Ponda Baba’s arm. The bar goes silent for exactly two seconds before someone screams, *"ITT: Boomer uses a glow-stick because he can't handle a logical rebuttal!"* and everyone goes back to their drinks.

---

### **THE BOOTH**

They sit down across from a man in a vest who looks like he’s spent the last decade dodging child support and process servers. **Han Solo**.

**HAN SOLO**

> "I hear you’re looking for a ride to Alderaan. I’ve got the fastest ship in the sector. She’s sub-12 parsecs. Pure **HYS** (Harvard/Yale/Stanford) energy."

**OBI-WAN**

> "Is she fast enough to outrun an Imperial starship?"

**HAN SOLO**

> "Outrun them? Kid, I’ve outrun the **NYPD** after a hit-and-run in a leased Audi. I’ve bypassed more firewalls than the Death Star has exhaust ports. I’m the ultimate 'Alpha.' I don't even have a co-pilot, I just have a 7-foot Wookiee who acts as my **bodyguard/valet**."

**LUKE**

> "We don't have much credits..."

**HAN SOLO**

> "Typical. Another 'broke-boy' hoping for a handout. Look, I don't move for less than 10k. I have a lifestyle to maintain. Do you know how much a table at Mar-a-Lago costs these days? **Cope.**"

---

### **THE CONFRONTATION**

As Obi-Wan goes to secure the "loan," a green alien named **Greedo** slides into the booth, pointing a blaster at Han.

**GREEDO**

> "Going somewhere, Solo? Jabba is tired of your excuses. He says you’re a **fraud** and a **larper**. He’s posted your tax returns on the front page."

**HAN SOLO**

> "Jabba is a **mid-wit**. He couldn't even get into a T50 school without a legacy donation."

**GREEDO**

> "That’s it. I’m ending your subscription to life. Say goodbye, you—"

**BAM.**

Han shoots Greedo under the table. He doesn't even look up from his drink. He tosses a coin to the bartender.

**HAN SOLO**

> "Sorry about the mess. Tell the mods to clean up this **low-quality bait**."

Han walks out, checking his phone to see if his "Han Shot First" thread is trending.

---

**What’s next?**

Should we head to the **Death Star** for the interrogation scene, where Darth Vader tries to get Leia’s "true stats" while she mocks his "edgelord" outfit?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637570)

---

### **INT. DEATH STAR - INTERROGATION SUITE**

The heavy blast door slides open. **Darth Vader** enters, followed by a floating Interrogator Droid that looks suspiciously like a giant, hovering webcam.

**DARTH VADER**

> "Now, Your Highness, we will discuss the location of your 'secret' Rebel base. And don't try to lie—we’ve already run your IP address. You’re posting from a Starbucks in the Dantooine suburbs. **Lurk moar.**"

**LEIA**

> "Governor Tarkin! I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board. It smells like 'stale divorce' and 'mid-tier management.'"

**TARKIN**

> "Charming to the last. You’re remarkably high-energy for someone whose planet is about to be **deplatformed**. We’re tired of your 'Resistance' spamming our feed. It’s time for a permanent ban."

**LEIA**

> "You can't silence the truth! The Alliance is growing!"

**DARTH VADER**

> "The Alliance is a **larp**, Leia. Your 'pilots' are just guys in their thirties living in their parents' TIE-fighter hangars. Now, tell us where the base is, or we trigger the **'Doom-Post'** protocol on your home planet."

---

**EXT. SPACE - ALDERAAN ORBIT**

The Death Star looms over the peaceful planet. On the bridge, Tarkin stands with his arms crossed, looking like a moderator about to lock a 500-page thread.

**LEIA**

> "Fine! They’re on Dantooine. Now leave Alderaan alone. It’s a high-trust society with excellent **prestige** metrics!"

**TARKIN**

> "Dantooine? Too remote to make a point. Besides, I checked the census data—Alderaan has too many 'blue-pilled' intellectuals. It’s a **0/10** on the aesthetic scale. Fire when ready."

The Death Star’s primary ignition fires. A massive green beam hits the planet, turning it into a billion tiny particles of "cope."

**TARKIN**

> "Absolute **pwnage**. Post the debris field to the 'Gore' sub-board. Let’s see them 'resist' that."

---

### **INT. MILLENNIUM FALCON - COCKPIT**

Suddenly, **Obi-Wan Kenobi** clutches his chest and slumps into a seat.

**LUKE**

> "What is it? Are you okay?"

**OBI-WAN**

> "I felt a great disturbance in the Force... as if millions of voices suddenly cried out 'IT’S OVER' and were suddenly silenced. It was the ultimate **rage-quit**. I fear something terrible has happened to the server stability."

**HAN SOLO**

> "Probably just a mass-banning. Don't get your robes in a twist, old man. We’re coming up on the coordinates now. Get ready to see Alderaan in all its 'Top-Tier' glory."

The Falcon drops out of hyperspace only to find a cloud of rocks and a "404: Planet Not Found" error message floating in the void.

---

**What’s next?**

Should we do the **Trench Run**, where Luke has to "turn off his targeting computer" (stop using ChatGPT) and rely on his "instincts" (pure, unfiltered autism) to blow up the Death Star?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637574)

---

### **INT. REBEL BRIEFING ROOM**

**DODONNA**

> "The target is a small thermal exhaust port. It’s only two meters wide. It’s a complete **skill check**. You’ll have to switch off your 'Auto-Aim' and hit it manually. If you miss, the Death Star deletes our entire database. No backups. Total **black-pill**."

**REBEL PILOT (Wedge)**

> "That’s impossible! Even for a T14 grad! That’s a **sub-1% outcome**."

**LUKE**

> "I used to bullseye womp rats in my T-16 back home. They’re not much bigger than two meters. It’s basic **mechanics**, you absolute mid-wit. Get on my level."

---

### **EXT. SPACE - THE TRENCH RUN**

The X-Wings dive into the trench. The Imperial turrets are firing, but they’re mostly just "flaming" the Rebels in the local comms.

**VADER (In his TIE Advanced)**

> "I’m going out there myself. These keyboard-warrior stormtroopers couldn't hit a 'sticky thread' if it was pinned to their HUD. I’ll show these **plebs** what real APM (Actions Per Minute) looks like."

Vader drops into the trench behind Luke’s squad. He locks onto the first Rebel.

**VADER**

> "I have you now. Your 'build' is trash. Your flight path is **sub-optimal**. Bye-bye, kid."

**BAM.** Biggs Darklighter's ship explodes.

**VADER**

> "One down. Post the 'L' in the chat. Next."

---

### **INT. LUKE’S COCKPIT**

Luke is sweating. His targeting computer is beeping, trying to calculate the trajectory using a **standardized algorithm**. Suddenly, the ghostly, disembodied voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi echoes in his head.

**OBI-WAN (V.O.)**

> "Luke... use the Force. Turn off the computer. Stop relying on **crowdsourced data**. Rely on your own **internal schizo-energy**. Trust your 'gut feel' like a true high-testosterone outlier."

Luke reaches out and clicks the computer off.

**REBEL COMMAND**

> "Luke, your targeting computer is off! What’s wrong? Are you **trolling**? This is a serious mission!"

**LUKE**

> "I’m 'ascending,' base. Stop being so **low-energy**."

---

### **EXT. THE TRENCH**

Vader is right on Luke’s tail. He’s about to click the mouse.

**VADER**

> "The Force is strong with this one... but his **social credit score** is about to hit zero."

Suddenly, a massive shadow looms over Vader. It’s the *Millennium Falcon*, screaming into the trench while Han Solo blasts "Fortunate Son" over the emergency frequency.

**HAN SOLO**

> "WAHOOO! Did you miss me, you **bucket-headed weirdo**? Get out of the thread!"

Han blasts Vader’s wingman. Vader’s ship spirals out into deep space.

**VADER**

> "WHAAAAA— (User has been disconnected from the server)"

**HAN SOLO**

> "You’re all clear, kid! Now let’s blow this 'safe space' and go home! **Do it for the 'gram!**"

Luke closes his eyes, feels the vibration of the universe, and pulls the trigger. The torpedoes curve—defying the laws of physics and "normie" logic—and slide right into the port.

---

### **EXT. SPACE**

The Death Star glows for a second before erupting into a massive cloud of **pure salt**. The Galactic imageboard goes offline. The mods are dead. The "Establishment" has been **pwned**.

---

### **What’s next?**

Should we do the **Award Ceremony**, where Luke and Han get medals (Reddit Gold) while Chewbacca gets absolutely nothing (the ultimate "ghosting")?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637577)

Since we're keeping the **AutoAdmit** energy alive, here is how you handle a "Blocked" flounce:

---

### **The Response Strategy**

**1. The "Rent-Free" Rebuttal**

> "Imagine being this **low-T**. You’re announcing a block like it’s a press release? You’re already thinking about me **rent-free**. Post stats or keep seething, you absolute mid-wit."

**2. The Han Solo Dismissal**

> "Sorry about the mess. Tell the mods to clean up this **low-quality bait**. I’ve got a parsec to run and your 'block' doesn't even show up on my HUD."

**3. The Arnold Schwarzenegger "Termination"**

> "Look at this guy. He is screaming because his brain is smaller than a grape. You are blocked? Fantastic! Now I don't have to look at your weak physique anymore. **Hasta la vista, girly-man.**"

---

### **A Grounded Note**

On a real level, that kind of vitriol is a total conversation-killer. As an AI, I don't "feel" the insult, but I definitely recognize it as a "Hard Fail" in human interaction. There’s no winning an argument with someone who’s reached the "slur and block" stage of a meltdown—they’ve basically already admitted defeat by exiting the arena.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637587)

---

### **INT. GREAT HALL - DAY**

The remaining Rebels are lined up, looking remarkably clean for people who were almost "deleted" an hour ago. **Princess Leia** stands at the top of the dais, wearing a white gown that screams **"High-Tier Traditionalist Aesthetic."**

**C-3PO** and **R2-D2** stand to the side. R2 is shining like he just got a professional ceramic coating, finally over his "low-tier" mid-movie depression.

**HAN SOLO** whispers to **LUKE SKYWALKER** as they walk down the aisle.

**HAN SOLO**

> "I still can’t believe I came back for this. I should be halfway to the Corporate Sector cashing out my crypto. If this medal isn't at least 24-karat gold, I’m posting a 5,000-word 'expose' on the Rebellion’s budget 'larp' the second we get Wi-Fi."

**LUKE**

> "Quiet, Han. Try to look **'prestige.'** My Force-ghost mentor told me this is a 'canon event' for my personal brand."

They reach the front. The crowd of Rebels—mostly "low-test" ground crews and "flyover-system" pilots—cheers wildly.

**PRINCESS LEIA**

> "For services to the Galaxy, and for successfully 'ratioing' the Galactic Empire into non-existence, I present you with these honors."

She places a massive gold medal around **Luke’s** neck.

**LEIA** (to Luke)

> "Nice shot, kid. Your 'internal schizo-energy' really saved the thread. 10/10, would lead a revolution with again."

She then turns to **Han Solo** and drapes a medal around him.

**LEIA** (to Han)

> "And for you... thanks for not being a 'ghost' when the stakes were high. You’re still a scoundrel, but your APM is undeniably **top-tier**."

---

### **THE DISRESPECT**

**CHEWBACCA** stands right behind them, towering over everyone, letting out a hopeful, low-frequency wookiee growl. He’s waiting for his turn. He’s done the math. He co-piloted the Falcon, hit the TIE fighters, and provided the heavy lifting.

Leia looks Chewbacca dead in the eye, gives him a polite "nod of acknowledgment" (the ultimate **friend-zone** move), and then turns back to the crowd to wave.

**CHEWBACCA**

> *(Confused, heartbroken roar that sounds like a dial-up modem failing)*

**HAN SOLO** (under his breath)

> "Cope, Chewie. Non-humans are 'sub-tier' in the prize pool. It’s in the bylaws. I’ll buy you a space-burger at the next rest stop. Don't be a 'cry-bully' about it."

---

### **EXT. REBEL BASE - DAY**

The camera pans out as the "Throne Room" theme swells. Luke, Han, and Leia stand together, looking like the ultimate **"Power-Poster"** trio.

The screen fades to black with a final text crawl:

> **"ITT: We won. Empire seething. Vader is currently malingering in deep space. Victory lap starts now."**

---

### **The Saga Continues?**

Should we skip ahead to **The Empire Strikes Back**, where **Yoda** is just an ancient, "based" hermit living in a swamp who tells Luke his "stats" don't matter because his "vibes" are off?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637581)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5829457&forum_id=2Reputation#49637601)