My name is Owen Lars, moisture farmer extraordinaire. My step-brother, Anakin Skywalker, was betrayed and murdered by his mentor, Obi-wan Kenobi. I know this because Watto told me. This blog site is intended to raise awareness in the greater Mos Eisley area that this criminal is at large, living in our community, and what I, and hopefully others who care, plan to do about it.


Dad and Obi-wan, friends?

The day started on the wrong foot. It began when I discovered Beru had eaten my last bag of puffed pork, the one I was saving for my morning snack. I was so infuriated that I told her she was a fat bantha. She’s not really fat, but if she thinks she is, she won’t eat my bloody food! Dad had recently made a habit of labeling groceries with his name, I’ll probably have to do the same. The baby was especially ornery today. It’s hair was crusty and unmanageable, maybe because Beru didn’t rinse his hair properly. It cried incessantly! My head felt like it was run over by a sand crawler, and on top of that, now Beru was crying due to my “bantha” joke. It was really just too much. I wanted to beat a defenseless Jawa so bad! Then dad emerged from his bedroom. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he’d been crying for some time. He stared at us as if his best friend had just died, but as we all know, he doesn’t have any friends. Curious, Beru asked him what was wrong. He held out before us a long strand of brown hair. It belonged to his wife, Shmi. He had found it under his bed this morning while searching for his tube of “man cream.” His lips pursed and trembled as we stared at the old piece of hair. At first, I didn’t get what the big deal was, and then later, I still didn’t. Beru comforted the old goat as if she understood his pain. Whatever! Quite in jest, I told the basket case that if he wanted to see his wife again, why not talk to our new neighbor, the medium of South Tatooine. He took me literally. Without hesitation, he handicapped-glided all the way to Obi-wan’s homestead. I was dumbfounded. What had just happened? How was my father now earnestly visiting the very killer of his step-son, Anakin? Could it have been MY fault? Surely not. Must’ve been something Beru said to him. After several hours of waiting, dad was still over there. I paced the homestead feverishly, not knowing when I could expect him to return. What in blazes was he doing over there? What in blazes?!!

Lars- out!


Save the water

Last night was fun. My friend, Harfak, won two tickets to the monster speeder show, and invited yours, truly. Afterwards, we went cantina hopping, messing with a couple of weak and defenseless Gungans along the way. We irritated them by pulling on their long, floppy ears. Harfak, not realizing his own strength, pulled a Gungan’s ear clean off. It was an awkward and sobering moment. Harfak is a Gamorrean who moved here last year from his homeworld of Gamorr in hopes of getting a job as a guard at Jabba the Hutt’s palace. But they had a hiring freeze in effect at the time, and the palace’s HR department said they’d keep his application on file for one year. Poor guy. He wants to work there so bad. Anyway, hanging out with him took my mind off of the poltergeist house next door. After the evening of debauchery, I came home to find Beru giving the baby a bath. I was shocked! We had a very strict rule that the baby would only be washed every third day. Water, as scarce as it was on our planet, had to be conserved above all else. In fact, I only shower once a week, and dad never showers, I think. Actually, I KNOW he never showers, because I never got him that handicapped shower chair he asked me for. Only Beru showers everyday, but I make her turn off the water when she lathers. We also have a strict toilet flushing policy: we can only flush in the event of 5 urines, two #2’s, or one diarrhea. It kind of blows to be the second #2, as you could imagine, but that‘s life on Tatooine. Anyway, Beru had no excuse for washing the baby out of rotation, and I made her stop in mid-lather, not even allowing her to rinse the soap out of its hair. That’ll teach her! Before bed I drank several tall glasses of water on the off-chance that I'd wake with a hangover. I had a nightmare about Anakin. He came back from the great beyond to ask me to avenge his death. I will, little brother, I will. Soon.

Lars- out!


Obi-wan speaks to ghosts!

Yesterday was crazy. First we discovered dad’s an addict, then the baby was poisoned, and finally I realized I left my keys somewhere on Obi-wan’s property. I couldn’t go there myself to retrieve them, so I sent R2. He was able to locate them half-buried in dust outside Obi-wan’s front door. To my complete surprise, when the droid returned with my keys, it began playing a holo-message of a recording it had just made of Obi-wan’s place. Apparently the droid was still in record mode from earlier when I had it secretly recording Beru’s phone calls. Anyway, Obi’wan’s door was open, and the droid got several seconds of some very interesting footage. Obi-wan was speaking to what seemed to be a ghost! He was dressed like Obi-wan, but had long hair. The two were talking about coming back from the dead and all kinds of spooky stuff! I had no idea how strange and dangerous my new neighbor was , but now I finally had some proof to show the Mos Eisely residents. Unfortunately, when I went to rewind the message, I accidentally hit the erase button. Dangit! I was so enraged, I began beating the astromech droid’s dome head with a lead pipe, denting it permanently. Still fuming, I went upstairs to tell dad to move out, but he wasn’t home. He must’ve gone to his OB/GYN appointment. Dad has all kinds of strange health issues. My mind raced back to the murderer next door, and the strange witchcraft he was practicing. How could I use this against him? I’d have to ponder it longer.

Lars- out!


Dad's new monkey

I was still searching for my keys when dad came home from the pharmacy with Beru and, I assume, the baby. It seems they had mixed up his meds and some of them were on back-order, so he was furious. Quite unfairly, He began taking it out on me. We got into a huge fight. Dad tried to jump on me, but I moved, and his heavy body hit the ground painfully, right on top of one of Luke's sharp toys. Dad bellowed in pain as I laughed aloud. I quit laughing, however, once I saw what had fallen out of his shirt pocket. DEATHSTICKS! I was frozen with shock. When did he get hooked on deathsticks? When questioned by Beru and I, he said they weren't his and that he was holding them for a friend. It sounded legitimate, only dad HAS no friends. So I told them that if they weren't his, I'd put them away somewhere safe until his "friend" wants them back. When I tried to pick them up, dad grew extremely violent, moreso than usual, and snatched them from me. He immediately began counting the vile drugs, noticed one was missing, and accused me of smoking it! What? When could've I done that? Then he accused Beru, and before she could speak, he smacked her face hard. I then tackled him, punching his face repeatedly. Beru, crying in the background, stopped and let out a horrifying scream. We stopped fighting and looked over as she was removing the lost deathstick from the baby's mouth. Luke had apparently sucked the lethal narcotic almost to the quick. Beru raced out the door with the baby and took off for the doctor's. Dad collected his remaining deathsticks and glided off to his room, slamming the door and locking it. That's just great! Just what he needs, another addiction. Beru got home from the doctor's some time later. I had actually forgotten about the incident by that point. She said the baby's gonna be really high for about a day and a half, and that he's lucky to be alive. She said something else, but I don't remember. My mind was still on those blasted keys. Oh, no- I know where they are. They fell out of my robe when I was running from Obi-wan's property. Poodoo!

Lars- out!

A mutilated Jedi

Before I even got home last night, Sebulba was passing me in his fast podracer on his way back. I cheered, knowing that my brother's killer was now dead or dying. Part of me wished he was dying slowly, with no one to help him. But either way, justice had been served, and poor Anakin can finally cross over to the other side. I envisioned a nasty struggle with the vicious dug chewing chunks from Obi-wan's ugly face. I slept peacefully. This morning I half-expected to find Obi-wan's homestead surrounded by cops and yellow tape, but there was no such activity. So I wandered over there to see what valuables he had before the police happen by. The stench of rotting flesh would eventually reach my house, so I may end up having to call the filth, myself. Approaching Obi-wan's, I hoped his mutilated remains wouldn't gross me out, as I had just consumed a greasy breakfast, and it wasn't sitting well with me. In fact, I may have to drop the kids off at Obi-wan's pool. Oh, well, not like he'll care. Obi-wan's front door was open, and I casually wandered inside. Surprisingly, there were no signs of murder or mayhem, in fact, the place was spotless, and smelled very pleasant. Making my way to the kitchen, I almost soiled my long-johns when I caught sight of Obi-wan! He was doing dishes, and his back was to me. I booked out of the homestead so fast you'd think I was a Coruscant track star. I ran like Mustafar all the way home. Once I had caught my breath, I immediately called Watto. Sebulba and Watto live in the same neighborhood, and I knew Watto could find out what the heck happened last night. He already knew the whole story. He told me Sebulba got to Obi-wan's place and knocked on the door, but no one answered. So he left. SO HE LEFT?! That's it? Watto said Sebulba's no longer upset, and has forgotten the whole affair! After the way Obi-wan spoke about his mom, he's gonna let that go? I was so angry, I cursed Watto and hung up on him. Has the whole planet gone crazy? Does no one have any honor? This is all just too much. Hey, wait a minute, where's my keys. Great! I lost my keys now, too! What else?

Lars- out!


Sebulba's pride

I drove straight to the Mos Espa Pier/market place/commerce center/arena, a place I was sure to run into the great podracer, Sebulba. The tough little Dug was nestled comfortably in a lounge chair in the outdoor cafe, surrounded by two hot dug birds. I approached him as if quite by accident, acting surprised to see him there. He didn't seem to remember me, but no matter, I made sure to remind him. I quite swiftly got to the point, asking him why a new Dune Sea settler named Obi-wan Kenobi was talking smack about him. His demeanor then changed, and he wanted details. I told him that my new neighbor, a fearsome Jedi Knight who slayed Satan and General Greivous, and who hung with Mace Windu and the midget Yoda, was going around telling everyone that as ugly as Dugs were naturally, Sebulba's mom takes the cake. Sebulba seethed in a fit of anger. I then proceeded to tell him that Obi-wan was going around reminding all the local residents of how a 9-year-old human beat Sebulba in a very important pod race some 12 years ago. This was especially embarrassing since humans lack the basic reflexes for pod racing. Not to brag, but the kid who beat him was my very close brother, my twin, if you will, Anakin. Sandwiched between two gorgeous Dugs who were made privvy to said discussion, Sebulba couldn't exactly let these comments go by unchecked. He had his pride and honor to think about, in the end. Before leaving the volcanic Dug, i made sure to provide him with Obi-wan's address, and let him know the best times to reach him at home; namely, 9:01 P.M. I drove home feeling much better. I called Sebulba out in front of his female companions, and given his expression and his prideful reputation, I felt he would most likely act within a few days. Imagine my complete surprise when a heavy-duty, super-industrial orange podracer sped by my landspeeder so fast that I almost capsized from the force of the air wake. I immediately knew that the dug had been highly insulted, and that he wouldn't even wait until day-break before confronting his alleged critic. I'll admit that my grin, which began at my left ear, somehow managed to extend as far as my right ear, connecting the two destined locations in a harmonious union of bitter-sweet fusion and symmetrical balance that my face almost glowed in delight, a direct contrast to the usual scowl that registered domain on the same property almost every waking hour of every day (in other words, I was smiling hard). I spent the latter half of my drive home feeling rather confident that my foe, Obi-wan, would be dead or dying by the time I arrived at my homestead. At last, the tide was turning, and my problems would finally be solved. I love being me.

Lars- out!

Holy Sith!

I can't win for losing. It turns out the "laser sword" I stole from Obi-wan isn't a laser sword at all. I finally discovered that the bottom of it unscrews, revealing a battery compartment. After inserting fresh batteries, I was mortified to discover that the "weapon" was actually a flashlight. The other two handles I saw in Obi-wan's junk drawer must have been laser swords, and of course, I had to grab the wrong one. I was so ticked off I wanted to scream! I decided to bury myself in my work in order to get the situation off my mind. I farmed the northeast corner of the property, the furthest point from the homestead. I worked my fingers to the bone, and at sunsdown had collected an entire bucket of water! I was so excited I ran back home to show Beru. She'll be so proud of me. But instead of being greeted with a hero's welcome, I was instead told that Obi-wan Kenobi, my brother's murderer, had spent the entire afternoon in my house! I saw red! It seems he happened by to visit MY baby, and Beru let him in. He sat on MY couch and drank MY root beer as he and Beru talked about everything under the suns. She seemed really impressed with his knowledge of child-rearing, the arts, foreign languages, different cultures, home decoration and design, and gardening. She told me she sat in awe for hours as he dazzled her with tales of adventure from the Clone Wars. She said he smelled great, and that he was dressed to the nines. She was so starstruck that she failed to notice my full bucket of water. In a fit of rage, I dumped the entire bucket on the baby and chucked the container across the room. In a torrent of rage, I told Beru not to ever let that man in my house again, or I'd go Sith on her. I was so upset, I went and picked a fight with dad. He was in no mood, and in retaliation knocked over my house of cards, the one I've been working on for weeks. I was so enraged I grabbed his hair and dragged him off his glider-chair. He thrashed violently on the ground, trying to claw and scratch me as I kicked him in the stomach and spit in his face. It was a bad scene. After Beru broke up the fight, I retired to my workshop to think. I've finally had enough of this Obi-wan Kenobi business. I jumped in my speeder and headed to Mos Espa to enlist the aid of a powerful ally.

Lars- out!


Dad's arrest

Dad got arrested last night. I got the call from the Mos Eisley P.D. at about 9:00 this morning. I was in my workshop, still trying to turn on Obi-wan's laser sword. When I pressed what I thought was the "on" button, nothing happened. I spent the better part of yesterday fooling about with the infernal device, after all, if I was going to use it as proof that Obi-wan's a jedi, I'd have to turn it on. The call came at the worst possible time. I was not at all happy that I had to drop everything and go into town today. No one had heard from dad in 2 days, and I was beginning to wonder what happened to him. I arrived at the police department at about 11:00. They had dad locked up in a special cell due to his disability. He was picked up last night for trying to incite a riot. It seems there was a warrant out for his arrest due to a couple of bad checks he wrote last year. The police told me he resisted arrest, and spent the better part of the evening cursing and insulting the cops, calling them "swine" and "filth." I posted his bail and we headed home. I tried asking him what all had happened, and where he'd been all weekend, but he told me to shut up. Once home, he went straight to his room and slammed the door. He quickly emerged, shouting at Beru for not emptying his night-jar. Dad keeps a large jar next to his bed that he uses to urinate in. He also uses it to spit his snuff in. Well, it seems the jar was completely full, in fact, over-flowing. Dad ranted and raved about it until he knocked it over by accident. The vile contents of the container spilled out all over the space-carpet. Beru spent almost an hour cleaning up the nasty liquid. It was so gross. I almost threw up when she told me she found some blood and a #2 mixed in there. Anyway, I left her to her cleaning and went back to my project at hand. I just got to find a way to turn this blasted weapon on! I'll stay at it all day if need be.

Lar- out!


The good guy (me) finally wins

Beru had a fever this evening that she claimed was due to overexposure to the suns. While my usual policy is to ignore such whining as overly-dramatic plees for attention, I let it go, feeling a bit benevolent. Perhaps it was because I was now truly getting close to the goal I've been arduously pursuing for the past 8 days, popping the obnoxious blood-zit known as Ben Kenobi, and in the process, hopefully taking along with it the meaty blackhead known as Obi-wan. I felt very good about my newest diabolical scheme. So when Beru asked if I could watch her baby while she slept off her "illness," I agreed. The little orphan couldn't stay up all night, and besides, I wanted to wait until about 2:00 in the morning before I attempted the L.S.R.M. (Laser Sword Recovery Mission). I figured by that time Obi-wan would've been asleep for 5 hours, and the chance of me catching him in that very deep R.E.M. sleep would have increased. So I watched and waited, drank a little, too. Luke didn't seem to tire too easily, though, the double-dose of space-melatonin I gave him proving useless. I wasn't too concerned, though, since I still had my secret weapon: an old batch of dad's bacta-moonshine that I hid some time back. That stuff would put a frenzied bantha into a coma. In other words, he'd be asleep at the start of my mission, one way or another. Occasionally I'd ascend to the desert surface to catch a glimpse of Obi-wan's place. As always, his lights were out at 9:00 sharp. It was getting close to 2 A.M., so I decided to prepare R2 with instructions. But when I searched for the metal heap of crapola, he was nowhere to be found. I finally realized where he was, he was in Beru's room, as she had recently grown accustomed to using him as an alarm clock. I was irritated beyond belief! If I was to go in her room and collect the droid, she'd be sure to wake, the light sleeper that she is. And yet I couldn't complete tonight's mission without him, or could I? I started to think all bets were off for tonight, until a voice inside me told me not to quit, to never quit, despite all odds. In truth, circumstances seemed to be in my favor: Beru was asleep, no one's heard from dad all day, (he's sure to reappear within the week, though), and the baby was asleep, at least I thought, as I hadn't heard him crying in some time. He must've fallen asleep somewhere. Either way, the time seemed ripe for me to enter the lion's den, as it were, and finally obtain solid proof as to the true nature of the criminal in our midst. I need to find that laser-sword! It's my manifest destiny! O.K., you know what? I'm going. Right now! Marching into war wearing only the breastplate of bravado, the helmet of courage, the sword of bravery, the shin-guards of chivalry, and the cup of truth, I belly-crawled all the way to Obi-wan's home, in the rare case that he couldn't sleep, and was peering from his basement window at my house. You can never be too careful in these matters. Upon reaching his filthy lair, I noticed that one of his windows was slightly ajar, to let in the nightly desert breeze, no doubt. With all the courage I could muster, I broke and entered through this tiny portal into the fiend's place of solitude. All was quiet, save the deafening snores that resounded obtrusively from the jedi's bedroom. Although it was quite dark, I was able to find my bearings quickly, as his floorplan turned out to be quite similar to mine. It was almost like I was at home with the power turned off, looking for my bottle of Lando Calrissian 45. The more he snored, the more I felt comfortable. Jedi senses, indeed! The guy's a louse! To lend one compliment to him, though, his place was immaculate. Maybe that's because he doesn't have a baby in the house to mess everything up, a baby, by the way, that I only have now because Obi-wan saw to it that his real father couldn't raise him, seeing as how he killed him until he died from it. Anyway, I went through everything, and it wasn't long until I came upon a drawer in the kitchen that I found what I was searching for. In the drawer filled with junk-mail I discovered three laser-swords! I was so happy I thought I'd vomit! Without thinking twice, I grabbed one of them, crawled out of the same window I entered, and sped off like a bat out of Mustafar. Upon arriving at my home, I sealed the outer doors and windows, programmed the booby-traps, and set the sensors for high-alert. I didn't want to take any chances with that madman wizard, especially once he finds out one of his weapons has gone missing. I finally had in my possession the proof that Obi-wan is most certainly a Jedi, and I couldn't even wait until the moment that my disbelieving townsfolk were confonted with it. But that would have to wait until the morning. For now, I will be comforted in the fact that I bested a great Jedi-knight, one who slayed Satan, himself, after Satan had killed Obi-wan's master, or so the story goes... probably a made-up story, anyway, as the only thing I recall ever hearing Obi-wan destroy was his innocent padawan Anakin. But that's all right, Obi-wan, just remember that what comes around, goes around, and if you come over to my house when I feel brave and loaded enough to confront you, I'll tell you why! You are so out of here! I got your stupid weapon, and by this time tomorrow, no one will care about your rank cologne or your witty banter or how you helped Widow Hee-shaddi+-88 move during a sandstorm on Wednesday. We all hate you, Kenobi, CAN'T YOU SEE IT?!

Lars- out!