Intergalactic Battle

I took my son to the playground because it was such a beautiful day.  As usual, he made friends right away.  There was a little girl playing with her dad.  They each had a Star Wars light saber.

"I know all about Star Wars," my son said.  "The red saber is the bad guy." He pointed at the little girl.  "You're on Darth Vader's team."  Then he looked at the man.  "You have a blue saber, so you're a good guy.  Who are you supposed to be?"

"Yoda," the man replied.

"Do you know what Yoda becomes when he dies?"

"No."

"A Yoda ghost!"

Without further ado, my son joined in the battle, waving his arms furiously, making all kinds of extraneous weapon-like sounds.  He decided he was going to be on Darth Vader's team - must've been the desire to help a damsel in distress.  "Hey, big guy," he yelled at the man.

"Did you just call me 'big guy?'" the man asked.

"Yeah.  You should be dead now.  You were destroyed ten times already!"

"Sorry, buddy.  The Force is with me."

"Then I'm going on another spaceship."

And with that, my brave villian took off and boarded another playset.