After a delicious sixty dollar meal at America's favorite calorie increaser, The Cheesecake Factory, my lovely, compliant wife and I headed to the campout to take our turn, do our duty, to ensure the message and gospel of the Force is embraced and spread to all who have not heard the good news. As many of you know, sacrifice is something that must be endured when people of faith take it upon themselves to stand in the fray, in the midst of sin, to be a lightsaber of glory and righteousness. Though the insults were hurled by spoiled WASPS in luxury SUV's, donning rims worth their weight in droids, we stood fast and allowed the filth to penetrate our ears but not our hearts.
And thence came the balloons.
Two SoccerMom vans in the parking lot of Fashion Island had taken position and lobed a few water bursting bombs only a few feet from our tent. But, we did not subside.
At one point in the evening, when my wife and I were preparing to bed down, the alarm was sounded and the eggs were dispersed. A wayward truck carrying two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve decided that they would strike us with another bombardment of their mini hydro-zeppelins. But, the Force gave us "Force-sight" and we headed them off, flanked 'em, and defeated them by tossing our own blitzkrieg of eggs onto and into their automobile.
Victory. Viva la Star Wars! Viva la Lucas!
Of course, the nerds continued to talk about the whole incident long into the witching hours; thus preventing sleep; thus prompting spelling errors; thus, I say thus.