How does the thought of drinking your favorite beverage from a Stormtrooper Mug strike you? I guess it probably depends on which side of the divide you stand and how you identify yourself: are you an Imperial Patriot or Rebel Alliance Scum?
I’m going to play Empire’s advocate here by saying that filling out the ranks as an Imperial Stormtrooper probably isn’t the easiest gig in the Star Wars Galaxy. The hours are long. The pay’s not great. Failure has a strict zero tolerance policy. If your immediate supervisor’s not a jerk, you can bet that his immediate supervisor’s a jerk — and the promotion process to become his immediate supervisor isn’t really an encouraged topic of discussion around a typical Star Destroyer’s water cooler. The Stormtrooper Mug probably isn’t something you find in the coffee break room there, either.
Oh, sure, the uniforms may look cool, but they’re not air conditioned or heated against the inclement weather patterns of most worlds on the Outer Rim. You may have signed up to glide over exotic terrains on a sleek 74-Z speeder bike with an air of cool nonchalance like the debonair chap on the recruitment poster, but you’re more often saddled up on the back of some stinking, burping fart machine with too many legs native to the scorching dustball or freezing, icy hellscape where you’re stationed. Having a Stormtrooper Mug from which to sip a refreshing beverage adjusted to a temperature suitable to your post — hot or cold, depending — doesn’t seem like such a bad idea now, does it?
Dignity is overrated, anyway. Besides, you already signed the papers — what good is dignity to an Imperial Stormtrooper?
The Stormtrooper Mug is An Unsettling (But Thirst-Quenching) Reminder of Mortality
The haunting image of savage teddy bears using your felled battalion-mates’ helmets for percussion in their degenerate tribal orchestra after the ill-fated Battle of Endor will remain with you forever, but you were one of the lucky ones. You had the good sense to tuck your blaster between your legs and hide under the nearest convenient foliage until the cries of your maimed and dying comrades faded into the forest’s abundant night cacophony and you could sneak away inconspicuously.
Of course you had to leave that once-cool uniform behind, but you’d rather your head not occupy the helmet that the conquering Ewok forces would eventually craft into a Stormtrooper Mug if at all possible. And going AWOL without consequence sort of took the sting out of being on the losing side — so it wasn’t an entirely bad day, all things considered.
But if you want to reminisce with surviving ex-Imperials and sing old drinking songs down at the local beer hall, I’ll bet you won’t be the only one hoisting a Stormtrooper Mug to celebrate your continued existence in the shadow of the once mighty Empire. Things could have turned out much, much worse. You could have won.