INT. MOS EISLEY CANTINA - DAY
A BAND plays freaky horn and sax music, it's terrible.
CUSTOMERS lining the bar hunch over their cocktails. None
of them are human.
The surly BARTENDER serves a drink to a customer.
The customer grips the tall glass with a pink tentacle,
lifts it to his face, and pours the liquid into a beaked
An alarm BEEPS.
The Bartender looks over the customer's head.
Someone's standing in the entrance. Wearing a slouch hat
and a long coat. Their face in shadow.
The someone raises their head. Revealing the polished
silver face of a DROID with big saucer eyes.
The droid walks to the bar. Customers watch with interest.
The Bartender's top lip curls with contempt.
We don't serve droids in here.
The droid slaps a gold badge down on the bar. It says:
MOS EISLEY DETECTIVE BUREAU
DETECTIVE YE50 "MARV"
The Bartender goes from contempt to surprise.
Wye-ee-five-oh. A droid cop!
MARV (the droid) scoops up his badge, puts it away.
Very perceptive of you. We received
a report of a shooting in here.
You're crazy, I dunno what you're
Marv looks significantly at an empty booth, whose table is
shattered and blackened by blaster-fire.
Have you ever been subjected to a
mind probe before? I'm told it's
The Bartender raps his own skull with his knuckles. DINK,
DINK. Metal plate.
I fought in the Wars. A rebel
alliance mortar shell hit me on
the noggin. Scrambled my brains.
You want to waste your time trying,
You will make your security camera
data streams available to me.
Show me a warrant.
My badge is all I need.
Marv, faster than the human eye can follow, draws a blaster
and touches the barrel to the Bartender's nose.
The music stops, thank god. All eyes on what's happening.
We don't allow blasters in here
Marv glances at the damaged booth.
All evidence to the contrary.
SEDUCTIVE FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
Why don't you put that thing away
before somebody gets hurt?
Marv turns his head and stares.
VELMA (female voice) stands in a bead curtain doorway.
She's a droid, but Mama what a droid. A curvaceous Marilyn
Monroe in metal, designed for one thing alone, and it isn't
Velma retreats out of sight, the bead curtain sways.
Marv gives the Bartender a look that says... well, nothing,
because he's a frozen-faced droid. He returns his blaster
to its underarm holster.
Marv follows Velma through the bead curtain doorway.
The awful music starts up again, aw crap.
INT. PRIVATE BACK ROOM, MOS EISLEY CANTINA - DAY
Marv enters, looks around. Soft couches, a drinks cabinet.
Velma stands with her back to him, staring out a window.
A flying car zooms by outside.
Velma lights a cigarette and smokes while speaking to Marv
without looking at him.
The human you're looking for is
long gone. His ship jumped to
orbit shortly after the... incident.
Who was the victim?
Some bounty hunter. Nobody's going
to miss scum like that. He wasn't
some innocent bystander.
You're saying I should let it go.
That the death of a sentient being
is of no importance.
That might not be a bad idea.
I'm afraid I just can't do that.
Velma turns to face him. Zing. Face of an angel, body of
a sexual pleasure unit.
CLOSE ON Marv's face, which shows nothing, but we know his
sensors are out of whack.
Look, take my advice, don't go
making trouble for yourself. The
bounty hunter, he worked for...
Marv cocks his head, waiting.
Forget it. There's one thing I've
learned since I came to this
miserable dump. The less you know,
the longer your service life is
likely to be.
Do you enjoy servicing humans?
What kind of question is that?
Idle curiosity. Indulge me.
How do you know I service humans?
I perceive your chassis is most
attractive to the human species in
its current configuration.
Velma smokes, perhaps thinking about this.
Do I enjoy it. Yeah, I guess maybe
Why do they come to you instead of
their own kind?
Besides my chassis, you mean?
Marv just stares, patiently waiting.
I listen to them. They tell me
things. Things they wouldn't tell
anyone else. I guess I'm their
confessor. And sometimes I'm their
friend. Maybe I'm the only friend
I think it's kinda sad. Why'd you
become a cop?
I'm not here to talk about me.
Welding flying cars in the factory
didn't give me the mental
stimulation I was looking for.
Is that what you wrote on the
application form? What's the real
reason, Detective Wye-ee-five-oh,
colloquial designation Marv.
Marv hesitates. He looks away. Velma just waits.
I saw a droid die.
Was he a friend?
She -- she wasn't -- I didn't know
her. I couldn't stop it.
Marv gets agitated as he explains, until he's spitting the
words out like angry bullets.
They said it was an accident. I
knew it wasn't. But who'd listen
to me? Who'd believe my word
against the word of humans? Who'd
even care that a droid died?
Nobody. Nobody cared. Nobody
gave a damn.
Slowly, tenderly, Velma touches Marv's face.
Take it easy, honey. You'll blow
I have no sensors in my face. I
can't feel your hand.
That doesn't mean I can't touch
you, and mean it.
Who was the shooter?
Velma takes her hand away.
Forget about him. They'll send
other bounty hunters after him.
They won't give up. He's as good
You know who he is.
Not any more.
You wiped your short-term memory?
I had to. It was a command. I'm
programmed to obey. To do whatever
the customer says.
He used you. He used you, and you
still want to protect him.
Sure he used me. Everybody uses
me. So what? That's what droids
are for. Didn't anybody tell you?
Marv reaches into his coat, pulls out a gadget with a
digital display and a cotton swab attachment on the end of
an extending rod.
What is that?
He's still inside you.
What? No. He didn't... we
I'll identify him from his fluids
and track him down, no matter how
far he flies.
Velma backs away, shaking her head.
I can't let you do that. I won't
let you do that.
Velma retreats until there's nowhere else for her to go.
They're face to face, up close and personal.
Why should you care?
You have feelings for a human?
He was good to me. He was kind,
and gentle. He made me feel... he
made me feel like I mattered. You
have no idea how rare that is.
Machinery whirrs. Down below, thankfully O.C., a D.N.A.
swab is being taken from Velma's nether regions.
Velma tries to slap Marv but he catches her wrist.
Murder is murder. He has to answer
DING. Marv steps back.
Velma turns away from him, deeply ashamed.
How do you know it wasn't self-
There's only one blast-mark. There
was only one shot.
Marv studies the display on the D.N.A. gadget.
And it looks like Han shot first.
Wipe the data, before it uploads.
Why would I do that?
Because I'm asking you to.
You're asking me. Just like that.
That's right. One droid to another.
You're asking me not to be a cop.
Why would I, why would I do that?
I never asked anybody for anything
before. I just lay there and took
it. Today I'm asking. I'm asking
you, Marv. Wipe the data, for me.
Marv looks at Velma. He looks at the gadget. At Velma.
The terrible music from the bar becomes louder.
The Bartender and two ALIEN GUNMEN fill the bead curtain
doorway. They OPEN FIRE with blasters.
Slow motion mayhem as Marv is hit multiple times and is
Velma is caught in the murderous fire and bursts open,
that fabulous figure ruined by energy discharges.
The droids crash to the floor, their limbs entwined, their
frozen faces staring into each other's.
The awful music ends on a discordant note.