The Mandalorian S3E1's Takeaways From Grogu Himself

Contains spoilers for "The Mandalorian" Season 3, Episode 1 — "The Apostate"

"The Mandalorian" has returned, and while the Earthlings at Looper were pretty excited to pick apart the references, homages, and helmet nods to the far corners of the galaxy far, far away, and to see if our predictions panned out ... well, it turns out we have someone who can do it better than us, and that's Grogu himself. 

Yes, that's right. The little green one has joined us, and we're not going to turn down these astute observations from someone with boots on the ground ... well, feet on the ground, anyway (in fact, have we even seen his feet under that potato sack he's been wearing for two seasons? Doesn't matter). The point is, we've intercepted a transmission directly from that danger-magnetizing little dumpling just in time for his first chapter back with the space daddy himself, Din Djarin (Pedro Pascal). Please don't ask us how we managed it, though, as it's all very scientific and absolutely legit.

It's been a rollercoaster ride for the little garden pea with pointy ears up to this point, so we're just grateful he's managing to absorb his beskar-plated protector's essential life lessons. After all, he is a young fella, and every episode of "The Mandalorian" will bring new discoveries his way. So, gather around little younglings, and let's see what the wee Force-wielding scamp had to say about "Chapter 17: The Apostate." 

Take it away, Grogu.

Hey guys, Grogu here! Just have to say, Mandalorians are weird. Really weird. I like them, but for a group living on the edge of extinction, you'd hope that the last remains of Mandalorians would be on high alert at all times — especially when signing up a new recruit in waters that could home a giant space gator.

It's mind-boggling, for real. And hey, what kind of statement does it send to the new kid (yay, that's me!) when even the combined forces of 20+ helmet-wearing cultists (no offense, Dad) can't bring it down? Also, seeing as the old man and I are bound, according to the armorer lady, when do I get my helmet? What's a Foundling gotta do to get some accessories around here? I mean, look at this sack. This is no way to live. I'm telling you, there are Jawas dressed sharper than me.

Anyway, Din saved the Mandalorians — again — and stopped to chat with The Armorer, again. It sounds like more bad news. Because the big guy took the honest route and admitted to removing his helmet, he has to take a dip in The Living Waters to prove his worth and be redeemed for his actions. It's all corrupt if you ask me. So what if he let his hair down a bit? You're not telling me there's never been a helmet mix-up at Mandalorian meetings or that Manda-couples have seen each other without headgear. Between this and that Jedi dude that looked after me but never looked directly at me, there are far too many rules in this galaxy.

So after proving Din is still the best Mandalorian around (even if he's casual with the headgear), we're off to catch up with Greef Karga for a favor. On the way, hyperdrive is making me dizzy, because I see space whales again, which Dad has no chance of seeing, thanks to his T-vision. Another apparent reason not to have that helmet. Eventually, we get to Nevarro, and Greef Karga is running the joint. It looks pretty swanky now and is clearly making bank, given that he can afford his own cape-carrying droids. Dad told me that the spare funds from Cara Dune's salary have gone somewhere, whatever that means. 

Once again, though, the odds of us landing on a planet and just having a breather are absolutely nil when some old work associates of Kraga rock up trying to get a drink in a school. Yeah, a school, like the one I got that blue cookie in last season. Are all pirates this dumb? I might not have had the steadiest education given that my teachers have so far been one I've rarely seen the face of and another whose face I'm sure isn't real at all, but even I know the best drink you're going to get there is blue milk. Schools aren't bars, but pirates aren't smart enough to know that. I guess that's my first lesson this week. 

Anyway, Greef and Din hand them their lunch, without hesitation, and I get to witness yet another mass shooting in my childhood. That's not jarring at all.

So after sending that prickly-faced pirate on his way, Man-Dad-Lorian is all like, "Greef, gimme that droid we wrecked a while back." Then Greef is all, "Yeah, but there's barely any of him left." At this point, I don't care and am just trying to figure out how to get Kraga's spinny chair into our new ride (What? That space roof window is dull!) Regardless of the scraps to work with, Greef does us a solid and hands over IG-11, who was an okay dude before he wandered in a lava river. It turns out that Din does the typical Dad thing and tries to fix IG himself, only to reactivate him on kill mode — nice one. I wouldn't mind, but the reaction to this robot on the rampage has left me deeply offended.

Soon as IG-11 goes all killbot, Din forgets how to aim and has me flying through the air like a Marksman-H combat remote. I'm not a projectile, pal. I'm one of the last remaining members of a powerful sentient species with a hankering for red M&Ms. Show me some respect, you know? I could chuck you around the room if I wanted to, but I don't (mainly because I didn't finish Jedi training, but still). At this point, with IG-11 pulling a 180 on us, Kraga suggests taking him to a mechanic. Cute, adorable mechanics that I want to collect the whole set of.

After zipping IG-11 over to the local Anzellan mechanics, the bad news is that the droid is well and truly done. Well, okay, pal. I could've told you that. I think these little grease monkeys are taking us for a ride (Din only speaks Huttese), and the only way to test that theory is by throwing my weight around for a change. Good cop, bad cop, you know? I have a few inches on these little sprogs and am not afraid to use them, but Dad asks me to stop. Killjoy. Just once, I want to be able to pick people up and carry them around the place for a change, like that mean old Darth Vader guy used to do back when he was killing all my classmates. Uh... anyway. 

It turns out that if we want to get IG-11 back to its former self, the only way is to get a part and replace the memory chip. I'm not buying this argument, but if Big Daddy Din doesn't think he can do his Living Water dip without it, then whatever. We've done more ridiculous things for more minor issues before. Soon as I find out we're being scammed, though? Grogu may have to force-choke an Anzellan. Just putting it out there now.

After being fleeced by Anzellans and saying bye-bye to that awesome spinny chair, we're barely out of the atmosphere before that spiky-headed goon rocks up with more of his pals. This is my biggest issue, when it comes to flying around on adventures with Din and his whole "This is the way" vibe: Does it have to be this way all the time? Sure, I'm numb to the countless bodies my bounty hunter buddy has piled up, but it's idiots like this that don't do any favors in adding themselves to it. Like seriously, dude, do you know who my father is, and how many people he's killed?

Clearly not, because yet again, even though Dad and I are outnumbered and outgunned, we (okay, mostly him) outmaneuver many of them. Again. And even Gorian Shard, whom I hear looks like a walking talking topiary, makes the worst bargain ever. Space Pop advises me never to trust a pirate. Well, I'm never one to judge on first impressions, but after this encounter, I'm afraid it's going to stick. Who wants to cooperate with a group of people that would not only double-cross you but can't tell the difference between a place of education and an establishment to get gungan'd in? Not me, that's for sure.

Listen, friends, I don't want to throw shade at Din or any of his people. This dude has saved my life more times than I have fingers on my hand (yeah, yeah, I only have three, but still).

Still, as much as he keeps saying "This is the way" ... again, you know what? I don't think it is, guys. Because these Manda-laws sure are flimsy for a bunch of different people. A case in point? That tough-as-nails, no-helmet-for-me-thanks hero, Bo Katan, whom we finally caught up with. 

Remember last season, when Dad nabbed her beloved lightsaber? Yeah, she's still not too happy about it. Sure, she might be easygoing about taking off her helmet, but take her fancy laser sword away, and she gets salty. Why? It shouldn't mean as much to her and her previous pals who have abandoned her as taking off her headgear, yet this week, she's been throwing my Dad evil glares. Well, tough cookie. The Mandalorian laws might be centuries old, but even I know "finders keepers" outlives them all. As does "no takebacks." 

Even so, I love what she's done with the place, but of course, I can't stay here. We're off to visit a potentially poisonous planet that is absolutely no place for a child like me. This galaxy rules.