Well, don't blame me. I'm an interpreter. I'm not supposed to know a power socket from a computer terminal.
We seem to be made to suffer. It's our lot in life.
Don't be so sure. If I told you half the things I've heard about this Jabba the Hutt... you'd probably short-circuit.
— His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Hutt has decreed that you are to be terminated immediately.
— Good. I hate long waits.
— You will therefore be taken to the Dune Sea and cast into the Pit of Carkoon... nesting place of the all-powerful Sarlacc.
— Doesn't sound so bad.
— In his belly, you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you are slowly digested over 1,000 years. On second thought, let's pass on that.
— Sir, it's quite possible this asteroid is not entirely stable.
— Not entirely stable? I'm glad you're here to tell us these things.
I really don't see how that's going to help. Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances. The Empire may be gracious enough...
— They're asking if we would make peace in the ground?
— We're good, but not that good.
— Wipe that nervous expression off your face, Threepio.
— Oh. Well, I will certainly try, General. Nervous?