"Oh, no, we're not together."
Hey! We don't serve their kind here!
Luke: What?
Bartender: Your droids. They'll have to wait outside.
C-3PO and RD-D2 turn to leave. Bartender: Oh, sorry, the short one can stay. Just not the shiny, prissy one.
Luke: I'm sorry?
Bartender: The effeminate one with the lisp. We don't serve his kind here.
C-3PO: Apologies, sir, it's a British accent. If it offends you, I can certainly...
Luke cuts him off. Luke: What are you trying to say, buddy?
Bartender: I just think there are some cantinas on the west side that might be more his speed.
Luke: Oh, this is so Mos Eisley. You'll tolerate a guy with a thousand eyes or a bulging phlegm sack, but the moment a robot wants to express his love with a robot of the same sex you freak out.
C-3PO: Excuse me, but I'm not gay.
Bartender: The droid chose an alternative lifestyle, he can choose an alternative establishment.
Luke: Wow, it is so not a choice. He didn't ask to be programmed this way.
C-3PO: I'm not gay!
R2-D2 whistles and beeps.Luke: What did he say?
C-3PO: Nothing!
R2-D2 projects a very explicit hologram of C-3PO and another robot. Everyone, Luke included, recoils in disgust. C-3PO: I was in robot college. It was one time!
Bartender: I can't believe you're defending that.
Luke: That is a... perfectly natural... act of engineering between two consenting... You know what? We're just going to find another cantina. Happy now?
C-3PO: You try telling the difference between a male and female moisture vaporator!
Luke leads the two droids out. The bar watches them go. Han: Who the fuck were those guys?
Chewie shrugs.
Recording...
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