Therapist: So how are you doing today, Darth?

Darth Vader [muttering]: Rebels are giving me all kinds of shit again. Blew up another one of my Death Stars. Ugh!

Therapist: Have you considered a different angle on galactic domination?

Darth Vader [throwing his arms up in the air]: You think? Jesus Christ! Why do I pay you, again?

Therapist: Alright, alright – calm down. Why don’t you just let your hair down and go out and get laid? What about Princess Leia?

Darth Vader [furious]: What the fuck is wrong with you?! She’s my daughter!!!

Therapist: Oh, shit – sorry, I forgot. It just looked like you had this angry thing for her in the movies. So, let’s start again: why don’t you let your hair down and go out and get laid with somebody random?

Darth Vader [sucking deeply through his mask after a long, angry silence]: I can’t get laid because that asshole, Obi-Wan, cut off my dick along with the rest of my bits. And I don’t have any hair to let down in case you hadn’t noticed, you cunt.

Therapist: Oh, right. Sorry. What about origami?

Darth Vader: What?!

Therapist: The Japanese art of paper folding. It’s apparently very relaxing and therapeutic. I bet you could fold yourself an awesome Death Star to hang off your front balcony in the summer.

Darth Vader [pointing menacingly at the therapist with black glove]: You are really beginning to piss me off – you know that? I could kill you with a thought so remember I am watching you.

Therapist [sighing]: Fine – now you need to play The Force card. You’re just a little boy who thinks he’s evil, you know that?

Darth Vader: Fuck you.

Therapist [scratching his chin]: What about knitting?

Darth Vader: What?!

Therapist: Knitted fabric consists of consecutive rows of loops, called stitches. As each row progresses, a new loop is pulled through an existing loop. The active stitches are held on a needle until another loop can be passed through them. This process eventually results in a final product, often a garment. You could knit yourself a really cool tartan cape. You wouldn’t look like such a menacing asshole.

Darth Vader: Tartan?! My whole outfit is copyrighted, for God’s sake. Wait a minute – are you gay?

Therapist [coolly]: Yes, but that’s none of your business, Darth, as we’re here to discuss your issues.

Darth Vader [lowering his head]: Dear Lord, I’m trying to conquer a galaxy and my advice is getting laid with no penis, origami and knitting from a gay therapist? Why am I here?

Therapist [examining his finger nails]: Knitting could save you.

Darth Vader: Oh, shit!

Therapist [alarmed]: What?!

Darth Vader [igniting his light sabre]: Luke is here. I can feel his presence. I can’t fuck around with you anymore.

Therapist [as Darth Vader marches from the room]: Hey, can you give me his phone number some day?

Darth Vader: He’s my son!!!

Therapist: Oh, right. Sorry – I forgot.

*