Dear Reverend,

Vader here. I just wanted to check in and see if you’ve had a chance to see Episode VII yet. That’s probably a stupid question. Of course you have.

By the way, do you remember Edith? Remember I was telling you about how I met a nice woman who was visiting the gator farm, she’d moved down to Clearwater last year to get away from the cold Minnesota winters? Well, I proposed to her last week and she said yes! Great, huh?

So, anyway, we’re in Orlando right now. Well, actually, we’re just outside of Orlando in Davenport. We’re staying at Edith’s daughter’s house. We just got back from a very long day of buying all kinds of useless crap for her grandkids at Downtown Disney. We had lunch at Planet Hollywood. I managed to convince her that afterwards we should hop across the way to the theater and see the new Star Wars movie. She’s not much of a fan, so unfortunately, I ended up having to use a Jedi mind trick to get her to agree – not that she’s weak-minded or anything. She was tired and I took a chance.

Well, we saw it, and I just have to say that I’m really disappointed in my grandson, Kylo Ren.

Sure, he’s a pretty sinister guy when he wants to be, and I appreciate that he misses me, and that he keeps my melted helmet in that little shrine and all, but he’s as whiny as his uncle Luke if not more so. I mean, c’mon, crying in front of your opponent and revealing the deepest of inner struggles; whimpering things like, “I’m being torn apart…” Whatever, you wimpy twit. Either get your Vader genes together to man up and fill that black leather like a real dark lord, or put down that lightsaber you obviously failed to design correctly (it looks more like a tri-flamed torch lighter you can buy at a Circle K) and go back to the daycare on whichever planet Han and Leia raised you. You sound like the stereotypical Millennial – wanting everything, bearing no responsibility for your own life, and throwing tantrums. In fact, there at the end of the flick when Rey was kicking your butt (with my old lightsaber, by the way), I was hoping that before she finished you off that she’d take a quick minute to pull down your diaper and give you a spanking, you little crybaby.

Oh, man… Sorry about that, Reverend. I know I sound like a ratchety old man, but can you tell I’m a bit bothered by the male genetics of the Skywalker tree? I mean, where did I go wrong?

I have it in mind to give Disney a call to request reinsertion into the story. Having just spent 12 hours at one of their shopping attractions and seeing a bazillion different “Darth Vader” things for sale, I’d say they owe me a chance at knocking a few “First Order” skulls in order to get some quality badness back into the story. Whaddya think?

I should tell you that I came across a little liquor store not far from my future daughter-in-law’s house that had a Scotch I don’t think you’ve reviewed yet. It’s called Sheep Dip. Yeah, I get what the descriptor means to Scotch, but I don’t understand why a company would use the name for a bottle of whisky it actually wants to sell. I think most folks see it on the shelf and wonder if maybe it’s an ingredient for making Queso.

I took a chance on it. It is a blend so I’m not sure if you’ll like it, although I’ve noticed that you’ve been trying blends a lot more these days. The nose for this one is pretty malty. I noticed that when I take off my helmet and draw it in with a really deep breath, I get a little bit of something sweet. I’d say it smells a little bit like cupcake batter.

You know better than anyone that I really like my Lagavulin, so when I read the label and saw that Sheep Dip had some Islay blood in its veins, of course I was anticipating a smidgen of smokiness. I tasted a nip of citrus and a little bit of something peppery, but there wasn’t any smoke until the finish, and even then it tasted more like cigarette ash. Not a good ending.

Now, I suppose that overall it wasn’t completely terrible, but I wouldn’t recommend it to you, my friend. It would be a waste of your preacher’s pittance. Maybe I’ll save a little for you so that the next time you get down here to Clearwater you can try it for yourself and see what you think.

Be sure to tell Jen and the kids I said “hi.” And let me know if you think I should approach Disney. Edith is game, but I was hoping you’d weigh in. I know you are busy. Write back when you can.

The Force be with you, slàinte mhath, and all that!

Vader