Having unexpectedly encountered my old and long-presumed-deep-fried nemesis, Darth Tater, our spaceship has found itself surrounded by superior forces, cut off from outside assistance, and about to be boarded. It looks like I will spend the rest of my days as a prisoner of Darth Tater, perhaps an exhibit in his petting zoo; but as the rest of the crew files out on deck to be clapped in chains, Harry Stamper grabs my collar and pulls me into one of the air ducts. Crazy at it seems, he thinks we have a chance against Tater and his minions. Even crazier, he tells me to start calling him John McClane.

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