When you’re a ne’er-do-well spaceship captain “in a galaxy very, very, very, very far away” who’s frequently on the lam from such nefarious characters as Pizza the Hut, it makes sense to insure your ride.
Even if it’s a Winnebago from Spaceballs.
After a recent scrape with death at the “hands” of a living pile of pizza fixings, Captain Lone Starr, new-made master of the Schwartz, decides it’s just about time to get a proper insurance policy on his shag-carpeted 1973 Winnebago Eagle V Spaceship. Sure, insurance isn’t really in line with his usual devil-may-care, live-on-the-edge attitude, but it’s amazing how saving a princess and toppling an intergalactic empire can push thoughts of safety and security to the forefront.
With that in mind, Lone Starr fires up the Winnebago’s computer and finds RV and travel trailer insurance through Esurance. Within seconds, he’s getting a quote.
Oddly, he can’t find his classic vehicle’s make or model in the drop-down menu, so he just selects “other” for both options. Even though he makes use of the starship on regular smuggling and adventuring activities, he selects “no” in response to the question, “Is your RV ever rented to others or used for any business purpose?” (After all, you don’t want your insurer to know you smuggle contraband in your ship … er RV … right?)
For RV use he selects “only vehicle in household”, and then answers “no” to the question, “Is the current owner of this RV the original owner?” (This baby’s been through more hands than my last black market cargo, Starr thinks.) He’s a little stumped by the question of value. Those warp-speed engines came at a pretty penny, but are ages old now. The interior’s a wreck (smells of mog, too). And those blast marks from escaping Spaceball One certainly don’t help.
With all that in mind, he enters a quarter of a million Space Bucks in the value field. Probably overdoing it, but when you’re a smuggler, having a total loss payoff that’ll cover your next ship is vital.
All fields covered, Starr hits “Continue” … only to find that the form didn’t like his “only vehicle” answer. So he switches that answer to “primary residence.” He does end up sleeping in it often enough.
On the next page the questions start getting a little personal. Fingers crossed behind his back, he enters that his license is valid (it’s gotta be in one system or another) and that he hasn’t had any accidents, claims, or moving violations in the last few years. At least the latter is definitely true — all his accidents of late haven’t been the sort you’d notify the authorities about.
He hits “Continue” again and (after answering a question or 2 more) he’s got his quote. Well that was easy, he thinks. Only took a couple of tiny white lies, too.
The yearly total comes out to 2,218* Space Bucks, but that’s only $191.25 a month, easily coverable with just a smuggling operation or two.
Coverage for Spaceballs Winnebago
Here’s the financial protection Lone Starr’s going to get for his bucks.
|Bodily Injury and Property Damage||$250,000 per person/$100,000 per accident/$100,000 property damage|
|Uninsured/Underinsured Motorist Bodily Injury||$250,000 per person/$500,000 per accident|
|Medical Payments||$5,000 per person|
|Full-Timer’s Package||$250,000 per person/$500,000 per accident|
|Trailer Coverage||$0–$2,500 included with physical damage coverage|
|Physical Damage Options||Actual Cash Value|
|Replacement Cost Personal Effects||$5,000|
Wonder how many systems roadside assistance is available in? That could come in handy. Wait, what does roadside assistance mean for a spaceship, anyway?
*As you might imagine, the quoted rate here doesn’t reflect a real coverage total for such a vehicle. I mean, we can’t imagine what NASA used to pay to insure their rockets, let alone what a future space smuggler would pay to cover warp-speed engines.