After watching the latest episode of The Mandalorian, available for streaming on Disney+, my friend Ricky turned to me and said “We’re no strangers to love.” To which I readily agreed. Ricky is obsessed with Star Wars. And for my part, I’ve been in love with the Star Wars franchise since watching the first movie at a drive-in theater in 1977.

I know Ricky has had a growing concern about The Mandalorian in general and Baby Yoda in specific. But we also have an agreement that a show should be given a full season before we start criticizing it. “You know the rules and so do I,” I reminded him. “A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of.”

Ricky wanted to assure me that his complaint about Baby Yoda wasn’t the rantings of a toxic fan, the kind of person who hates any new entries into their beloved franchises. “You wouldn’t get this from any other guy,” he said sincerely.

Ricky could tell I wasn’t convinced. And to be fair, I wasn’t. I mean, this is Baby friggin’ Yoda we’re talking about! How could he even begin to think —

“I just want to tell you how I’m feeling,” he said. “Gotta make you understand.”

“Ok,” I relented. “Lay it on me.”

“Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, realizing the trap far far too late. I’ve been rick rolled. Again!

“Never gonna make you cry. Never gonna say goodbye. Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.”

“Yes, but what is rick rolling but a lie?” I asked, tears running down my face. “A lie that hurts.”