Paper is not so much a commodity as one would think...

This place is hell... the sun cooks whatever skin I leave out too long... The sand is far courser than anything I have ever experienced... Vader would hate and love this place for all the misery it's brought me, but dammit I hate it here! I want to go home! The howls of monsters and nightmare creatures haunt my every waking hour and my sleepless night are filled with the mating calls of Satans playthings. If not for the fact that my ears have saved my life more times than I can count I would have butchered them just to stop the noise!
 
Banshees screech less than these beats and they most likely look and smell better too!