"Son of a nerfherder!" Han swore, his boots poking out from under the console. "The one thing they could have stolen--"
"What's gone?" Rey asked, alarmed.
"My custom Blaupunkt stereo. I hauled a live rancor halfway across the galaxy to earn enough credits for that thing. That baby kept me and Chewie rockin' all over space. And now..." Han felt around under the console. "At least they left me my favorite 8-track."
He held it up for Rey to see. "Machine Head?" she asked doubtfully.
"There's no music like Deep Purple. Not in the whole galaxy." Han cradled the blocky plastic music machine to his chest like a baby.
Chewie roared quietly from the back. "It's my ship," Han yelled back, "so I pick the music. That was the deal."
"What did he say?" Rey asked.
"He said that he'd rather listen to the endless drone of interstellar space than have to sit through me drumming on the console during 'Space Truckin'' one more time."
minifill -- Other, crack. Millennium Falcon/ Car Radio
"What's gone?" Rey asked, alarmed.
"My custom Blaupunkt stereo. I hauled a live rancor halfway across the galaxy to earn enough credits for that thing. That baby kept me and Chewie rockin' all over space. And now..." Han felt around under the console. "At least they left me my favorite 8-track."
He held it up for Rey to see. "Machine Head?" she asked doubtfully.
"There's no music like Deep Purple. Not in the whole galaxy." Han cradled the blocky plastic music machine to his chest like a baby.
Chewie roared quietly from the back. "It's my ship," Han yelled back, "so I pick the music. That was the deal."
"What did he say?" Rey asked.
"He said that he'd rather listen to the endless drone of interstellar space than have to sit through me drumming on the console during 'Space Truckin'' one more time."