That’s okay. I’m confident I can handle whatever challenges the job throws my way.

Wow, that sounds pretty difficult. I suppose I’d just have to try my best and hope I do a good job.

Honestly, I don’t really have any experience with anything like this.

I already know that I would do a terrible job.

Using simple terms he can understand, I’d explain to him why the skin treatments are necessary, and I’d work with him to figure out what, exactly, he doesn’t enjoy about them and then use that information to tailor the process for him so that it’s as painless and comfortable as possible.

I would trap him underneath a laundry basket until he burns off all his combative energy. Then, once he’s tuckered out, I would pin him to the floor with my knee and apply the lotion to his skin as quickly as possible before he gets a second wind.

I’d spread a thin layer of the lotion around the inside of a garbage bag. Then, I’d roll a tennis ball past Yoda to create a distraction, and while his attention is diverted, I would run over and stuff him inside the garbage bag. I’d shake him up and down inside the bag until his body was covered in lotion, and then I would dump him out on a mat of paper towels to clean off any excess lotion.

I would really rather not touch his gross skin, so I’d probably just leave the lotion out on the counter for him.

I would make him healthy vegetarian Slim Jims out of ground mushrooms, spices, lentils, and other wholesome ingredients—he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference!

I would dip all of his Slim Jims in nail polish remover to make them taste horrible, leaving him no choice but to eat the vegetables if he doesn’t want to go hungry.

I would tell him that his nemesis Count Dooku is coming to spay him, and the only way for him to get strong enough to fight back is if he fills himself up on powerful vitamins and minerals, like the ones found in fruits and vegetables.

I would mash the fruits and vegetables into a paste and force the paste down his throat with my fingers.

I would tether him to the house with a length of rope that’s long enough for him to freely tend to his “crops” but too short for him to wander off to places he shouldn’t be.

I would dress Yoda in a vest covered in flashing lights and bells, which would scare the pelican away should it ever try to approach.

Shock collar.

I would shoot the pelican with a gun and then make Yoda eat its disgusting meat so that he realizes that the bird isn’t special.

I would revoke his TV and computer privileges for the rest of the day and have him use his time to do something constructive instead.

I would put an oven mitt over his head and duct-tape it in place so he’d be physically incapable of looking at porn—or anything else, for that matter. I would leave the oven mitt over his head for an entire day.

I would strip off all his clothes and parade him around town so that he could see how it feels to have strangers stare at him when he’s naked. I would charge people $5 to take pictures with naked Yoda, and I would spend all the money on something he hates.

I would put him in the oven and pretend like I was going to cremate him, and I would only take him out if he promised to never look at porn again.

Got it. I’ll make sure he doesn’t try to down any airplanes.

If Yoda wants to make an airplane crash, who am I to stop him?

I would get Yoda a fishbowl and his very own pet goldfish. Once he has a real, live fish to take care of, I trust he’ll begin losing interest in Obi-Wan, and I will then gradually start weaning the dead fish out of his life.

While Yoda is sleeping, I would secretly put a small speaker inside of Obi-Wan’s belly and wirelessly connect it to a microphone that I could use to make the dead catfish “talk.” Then, the following day when Yoda is having his alone time with Obi-Wan, I would have the catfish say, “Yoda, if you truly care about me, please flush me down the toilet so I can go live with my family in the sewer.” Hopefully he would feel comfortable parting with his companion if he thought it was what the dead catfish wanted.

I would tell Yoda that Count Dooku is coming to make Obi-Wan into a delicious po’ boy sandwich, and the only way for him to thwart his nemesis is to run outside and toss Obi-Wan into the swamp pond so he can swim away to safety.

I would throw Obi-Wan in the trash and then lock Yoda in a cupboard until he stops crying.