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disco jawa a long time ago in the faraway galaxy of my youth, my life revolved around one nexus - Star Wars. I was crazy for it to the point I talked about nothing else, and half-suspected my own two droids would soon arrive to provide the key to a new life of adventure. relatives sensing how the reality of my existence must have sucked ass indulged my fantasy world with gifts of Kenner figures, vehicles and playsets. I made it understood among family birthdays were for toys, Christmas - clothes. a proclamation I subtly reversed during the downtime between holidays. I looked at all gifts not bearing the Lucasfilm logo with utter disdain. Star Trek I had in the highest contempt once even threatening an aunt with my Han Solo blaster for having the audacity to present me with a Captain Kirk Meego doll. twenty years and two disappointing prequels later, paging through a collectible price guide is exquisite torture for me. what once was a massive collection whittled away by time, disinterest and an artillery of black cat firecrackers to a lone, loosely-jointed Snaggletooth. the disco jawa snafu especially galls me. the vinyl-caped variant lists for $3500. of course, leaving a toy in its package was unthinkable at the time, but even a loose figure would now fetch $1200 had I not, in a fit of jealous spite brought on by my friends' hordes of suave, cloth- cloaked jawas, ripped off the cheesy cape from the jawa and replaced it with a crudely sewn swatch of brown corduroy. but hindsight is the curse of collectors without collections, and I'd have pawned it for crack rock by now, anyway.
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