YODA: Into exile, you must go. A strategy, have you?
OBI-WAN: I'll take baby Luke to his dad's homeworld and give him to his dad's only living step-relatives.
YODA: A small heart attack, I seem to be having.
OBI-WAN: Lars? Oh no, we're gonna call him Skywalker.
YODA: Motherfucker, remember the name of the guy we're trying to HIDE this kid from, do you?
OBI-WAN: Uh
YODA: At least tell me- a pseudonym YOU have?
YODA: Going to call yourself Kenobi, you are?
OBI-WAN: Yeah basically.
YODA: *sighs* Harsh, Tatooine is. Bringing clothes, are you?
OBI-WAN: I've got a big pile of my old Jedi uniforms.
YODA: (looks up from half-empty bottle of vodka) Listening I am, keep talking.
(Yoda sighs and calls Senator Bail Organa)
YODA: Took the decoy baby, dumbass did. Safe, you must keep the chosen one.
ORGANA: No worries. She'll be perfectly protected here on Alderaan. We'll get her into boring stuff like debate club and student council.
UNCLE OWEN: Beru and I have been discussing it too, Luke. We've had a pretty good harvest this year. We think we can get by if you want to transmit your application to the academy now.
LUKE: Gosh, I'll do it right away!
BUREAUCRAT: Here's the latest list of applicants for pilot training at the academy, my lord.
DARTH VADER: Good. (flips pages) These look solid. Especially this kid from Tatooine, this guy Sk-- oh my god.