Topless Robot’s Review of the Star Wars Drinking Game

starwarsdrink%20lead.jpgBy Rob Bricken

If you’re like me, you love booze and Star Wars to an equally unhealthy degree. One vice is more socially acceptable than the other (vomiting on yourself is not nearly as uncouth as discussing your favorite bounty hunter from The Empire Strikes Back, of course). But there’s one place where they gloriously collide – the Star Wars drinking game. For those unfamiliar with the rules, here is about 10 percent of when you’re supposed to drink:

– Someone has a bad feeling about this
-A woman other than Leia is on screen
– An old Jedi starts to ramble about the Force (Vader counts)
– Somebody’s hand gets cut off
– Someone is mind-controlled using the Force
– People kiss
– A good guy wears white or a bad guy wears black
– Twice if a bad guy wears white and a good guy wears black (for uniforms, only the first person on screen counts)
– Three times if someone hovering in between wears gray
– An elaborately made up alien has no lines
– Someone has a lightsaber duel
– It is Luke’s destiny
– Luke whines
– Leia insults somebody
– Han brags about the Millennium Falcon
– Yoda uses bad grammar
– Yoda talks like a fortune cookie
– R2-D2 gets hurt
– C-3PO loses a body part (take two drinks if he is completely dismembered)
– C-3PO informs someone of just how many forms of communication he’s familiar with

So yeah. It’s a lot of drinking. But that didn’t stop your intrepid TR editor from chronicling his attempt to drink his way through the most beloved sci-fi franchise of all time.



Okay. Bad guy in black. One drink. Eight Stormtroopers in white, so, uh, sixteen drinks. And oh, there’s Leia in white, plus she’s wearing an outfit that covers everything but the head and hands. I need a new drink. No! Damn you, C3PO! Don’t say anything! Errgh. I’m clearly going to need to make two drinks.


Oh, thank you, C3PO, for stating your primary function to the Jawas, and Uncle Owen, and Luke, and every goddamn thing on screen. Thank you so very much. Another drink is needed.


I swear I’m not trying to get wasted, but there is nothing that Luke says during his first 15 minutes on screen that isn’t a whine. It’s another two full drinks. However, I’m not too inebriated to notice that although Luke starts out incredibly unlikable, somehow Luke ends up being reasonably cool by the time everyone leaves the Death Star, unlike his pappy, who was thoroughly awful for three solid films.


Unspeaking alien, unspeaking alien – oh god, I just have to chug from the scotch bottle and let God sort it out. I can’t help but notice that Obi-Wan is supposed to seem like a badass when he cuts off Ponda Baba’s arm in one easy motion, but the editing just makes it look lame. Dammit. I refuse to comment on the Han/Greedo shot, as enough has been said. Suffice to say, I’m not totally retarded, and thus feel irked by this change.


Holy shit. I’m one hour into the first money and totally drunk. Not just buzzed – full on drunk. Chewbacca’s playing chess, Han and Obi-wan are bitching at each other, Luke’s getting shot in the ass by a small floating ball and I’m am solidly drunk with two and 2/3rds movies left to go. I put away the scotch and break open a case of Miller Lite. I can only pray that it’ll get me through Empire.


Why the fuck is that monster in the trash compactor? The damn Death Star was built in space, so the monster had to be ordered and shipped on purpose. To hang in the Death Star garbage and eat people. If this was such a common occurrence as to necessitate a monster, why can’t the Empire figure out where the hell they are? Incidentally, between Luke freaking out about the monster and Leia’s insults to Han, I’m double-fisting the Millers.


Even drunk, I’ve never really gotten why Obi-wan decides to put his lightsaber down and let his ass get killed. Was it just to make Luke do it? As part of his Jedi passage? If so, that’s a real asshole move to do it without explaining it to Luke first. Did he do it to make Luke want to kill Vader to avenge himself? That’s a real asshole move.


There’s a lot of dog-fighting here, and it’s making me queasy. As is the super fat Rebel pilot Porkins. I’m glad when he dies. Seriously, I know the Rebellion is small, but out of an entire galaxy, they can’t find someone with a tiny sense of personal hygiene? You know his X-wing was full of twinkie and slim jam wrappers.


One down, two to go. I’m thoroughly, thoroughly drunk. I seriously doubt my ability to drink my way through two more films. Suffice it to say, but I have a bad feeling about this.

Result: Six scotch and sodas, eight beers




I have taken off my shirt. Despite the cold onscreen and in my home (according to the thermostat), I am incredibly hot. Also, since neither the wampa nor the tauntauns have speaking lines, I’m drinking. Whee!


Oh, thanks, Obi-Wan. You want me to go to Dagobah. Must be pretty important to tell me while I’m dying of hypothermia, lying on the ground. No, that’s cool. I’m much rather know where I need to head off to than, say, receive medical attention, or even a few positive words of encouragement – you know, as my fingers fall off. Asshole.


Man, the AT-ATs are awesome. Also, John Ratzenberger (Cliff from Cheers) is in this scene as a rebel. The rules don’t say drink, but it always freaks me out, so I do anyways.


Well, the drinks had been slowing down some, but here’s Yoda! And since the rules say drink both when he talks like a fortune cookie and when he uses bad grammar, I’m drinking twice pretty much every time he speaks. I feel I’m going to enter the dark side of total inebriation rather soon.


FUCK. YES. Lando is awesome. His little headset-wearing bald buddy is awesome. Cloud City is awesome. The final lightsaber duel is awesome, much awesomer than the one in Return of the Jedi. And with C3PO shot (two drinks) I have a brief respite from his drink-forcing shenanigans.


Oh, I’m sorry, Yoda. I couldn’t lift a fully submerged X-Wing out of the swamp. You know, since the Jedi gave me to some strangers on a remote desert planet and refused to train me in the Force for like 20 years. But that’s my fault. Not yours or Obi-Wan’s, who trained me for about 15 minutes before he decided to let Darth Vader kill him. Asshole.


Oh, Lando, you dickweed! It’s the Empire! They employ Stormtroopers! They have a Death Star! Why do you possibly think they’ll keep your little deal?! Idiot.


Oh, you kids with your Darth Mauls and lava planets – say what you will, but the lightsaber duel between Vader and Luke here on Bespin is the coolest duel in all six movies. It’s just so moody. Plus, when Vader cuts off Luke’s hand and tells him he’s his daddy, that’s emotional. When Obi-wan cuts off three of Anakin’s limbs and leaves him on fire, he’s just being an asshole. The duel is so cool I forgot I only have to drink once, and polish off another beer. I am so, so drunk.

Result: 8-11 beers (basic math skills and short-term memory impaired)




I have taken off my pants. It’s hot on the screen, and I’m hot. I’m going to lie down on the floor for a minute. Lots of unspeaking aliens. I lay the beer on the floor too and let it pour directly into my mouth.


I wake up to mild growling to find 1) the Rancor eating a Gamorrean Guard, and 2) I have passed out face-down on the ground, but with my ass sticking up in the air. Huh. I think I’ll drink to the rest of Jabba’s aliens with a glass of water.


Say what you want, but I’m drunk enough to say I like the big-ass beak ol’ Lucas inserted into the Sarlacc for the Special Edition. Partially because it always seemed weird to be afraid of something that was just a pit (can it be such a terrifying legend if people only have to step around it?) but mostly because pre-beak, it looked like a vagina with fangs, which I personally find unsettling. Especially when I’m sloshed.


You stupid Yoda. Sure, you’re well enough to get in a backpack and be tossed all over Dagobah in the last movie, but now, just when Luke needs you most, you’re dying. You little green pansy. But you’re still talking poorly, so I’m still drinking. I’ll even poor a little on the floor for your memory. Well, on the carpet. My wife’s not going to like that when she finds it tomorrow. Huh.

Also, Obi-wan admits to trying to get Luke to kill his own father without knowing it, but still thinks he was right to do it. Asshole.


Fuck. This movie is so long. Fuck. I’m so drunk. I just want to go to sleep. I’m so tired. And I don’t know where I put my pants. Also, Wicket the Ewok clearly wants to have sex with Leia, and I’m not sure Leia’s not flirting back. This is so fucked up.


I wake up (again) to hear the new gay celebration song sung by the galaxy with replaced the equally gay celebration song sung by the Ewoks. It’s a lateral move to me. But the Special Edition still shows that damned Ewok playing the helmets of various Stormtroopers, which to me is clear evidence that the Ewoks have been eating the dead. Maybe just the Empire, maybe both sides. They were going to eat Han and Luke, after all. I guarantee they wouldn’t bother to pick up those helmets with out getting the tasty human flesh inside. I take one more drink to wipe the depravity and horror from my mind, and re-pass out just as Lando starts dancing with one of the little monsters. Watch your back, Billy Dee!

Result: 5 beers, mass vomiting, permanent liver damage.