Jerry, when are you going to replace this thing?! It just makes beeps and bloops!

One time, ONE TIME I got it to play a song, but it was some weird avant garde stuff. It was just some lady rapping or something about “Odie wants” or something. I pulled a restrictor bolt and the jukebox said it had no idea what I was talking about. Useless!

I’ve tried putting money in. I’ve tried smackin’ it, Fonzie-style. I’ve tried kicking the damn thing. It just beeps and boops and lights up without ever actually PLAYING anything. How much did you pay for this stupid thing, Jerry? You got ripped off, whatever it was.

That garish gold mannequin-thing might be useless too, but at least you could put a lampshade on his head or something. This jukebox just eats quarters and menaces you with a tiny data jack. Maybe it’s one of those new-fangled ones that has to be connected to the internet?

Wear this shirt: While singing karaoke Sir Mix-a-Lot at that dive bar on the outskirts of Mos Eisley.

Don’t wear this shirt: Around your Jawa pals. They’re going to get sticky fingers.

This shirt tells the world: “You know how fan fiction has kind of a negative connotation? It’s pretty well-deserved.”

We call this color: Woot Silvered First

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