Han Solo Carbonite Bottle Opener Shot Last

Even though shooting first can sometimes get you out of a difficult contract negotiation, having a good blaster at your side isn’t always a match against hokey religions and ancient weapons — or even just the common treachery of an old best friend. Exhibit A: The Han Solo Carbonite Bottle Opener reminds us of what happens when a smug smuggler botches a job from an organized crime boss who’s well-known for demonstrating random acts of sadism on employees who don’t deliver (and even sometimes the ones who do).

As Captain Solo soon discovered, there’s not a galaxy big enough to escape the wicked clutches of a twisted megalomaniac with nearly unlimited financial resources and the desire to send a message. And once you mix in political intrigue and involvement in the destruction of government property on a massive scale, the very walls begin to talk just to be the first to rat you out for maximum reward. And now, Han Solo Carbonite Bottle opener, you are a wall. Well, sort of. You can stick to a wall if it’s made of metal because you’ve got a magnet on your back, but your most likely haunt will be a rotating spot on the refrigerator door among crinkled pizza delivery advertisements and the crayon scrawlings of tiny earthlings.

I Love You, Han Solo Carbonite Bottle Opener

Hey, it could be worse. You could be back in that crazy Hutt’s palace, frozen in time as a perpetually entertaining trophy for his court of terrified sycophants, or you could be hanging out with us here in our humble homestead and kick back with a beer or two — I’ll supply the beverages if you agree to open them. Sound like a better deal?

Get your own Han Solo Carbonite Bottle Opener at Amazon today and enjoy the company of the coolest drinking buddy in the Galaxy.

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Our resident "Bob" (pictured here through the lens of photographer Jason DeFillippo) is in love with a woman who talks to animals. He has a fondness for belting out songs about seafaring and whiskey (arguably inappropriate in most social situations). He's arm-wrestled robots and won. He was born in a lighthouse on the storm-tossed shores of an island that has since been washed away and forgotten, so he's technically a citizen of nowhere. He's never killed in anger. He once underwent therapy for having an alien in his face, but he assures us that he's now feeling "much better." Fogarty also claims that he was once marooned along a tiny archipelago and survived for months using only his wits and a machete, but we find that a little hard to believe.