The Original Death Star Spent Years In A Country Bar
No one who worked on Star Wars had any idea that everything they touched would one day belong in the goddamn Smithsonian. When the movie was done, the studio stopped paying rent on their storage unit and declared that they couldn't care less about its contents. Anything not kept by crew members was just tossed. Fortunately, one storage employee, an American hero known only as Doug W., decided to save the Death Star model and gained a kickass conversation starter for his living room in the process.
Then, around 1988, Doug moved to Missouri and into a more tasteful era of interior decoration in his life. So, he put the Death Star in his mom's rural antique shop, which sounds like an extremely specific euphemism for an act we can't even begin to imagine.
What a wretched hive of quilts and gently used Thomas Kinkade paintings.
Enter Todd Franklin, a Star Wars collector who just happened to see the Death Star while driving by, probably causing serious damage to his car's upholstery. He spent a few days doing research to verify his ridiculous discovery, but the Force punished him for his doubts -- by the time he was convinced, it had already been sold to the owner of a country music venue called Star World. It was put in the lobby, because what gets someone pumped up for songs about trucks, whiskey, and country livin' more than a planet-murdering spaceship?
Star World went out of business in 1993, to our complete lack of surprise, and Todd rushed to claim the Death Star. When he arrived, it was the only thing in the building that hadn't yet been liquidated, and it was being used as a goddamn garbage bin. It is famous for compacting trash, but come on. Todd bought it and offered it to Lucasfilm, who weren't interested, because the '90s weren't a great era of decision-making for George Lucas. So, Todd became the second person to keep the Death Star in his living room.