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.


Baby Skywalker

Since today was the one month anniversary of the baby’s arrival, Beru thought it would be nice for me to hold it for the first time. Despite my protest, I was forced to sit on the sofa as Beru handed me the little stinky thing. It was like a filthy bantha when it’s first born, but a lot smaller, of course. I didn’t know I was supposed to support its neck, and its head dropped awkwardly to one side. My understanding is that because this is Anakin’s son, he’s supposed to be strong in the force. Some baby Jedi; doesn’t even have neck muscles strong enough to hold up its own noggin! I was really bored sitting there watching little Skywalker doing nothing. We bonded for a while, but after twelve seconds, I told Beru I had enough.

Beru wanted to go out to celebrate, anywhere but the cantina, as she put it. So we went to a public park so the baby could lie on its back on the sand and do nothing. It was so boring! A family that was playing there was leaving, and their little girl left behind a really cool toy. Awesome, now I wouldn’t have to buy Luke a present. I was stuffing the toy in my robes when the girl came back for it. She saw what I was doing, but I told her finders-keepers. She started crying and begging me to give it back to her, and I told her to piss off. Then her dad came over and began yelling at me. I told him to take a leap off a sand crawler, and without any warning, he smacked me in the neck and punched me hard in the butt. Beru was screaming, the baby and the little girl were crying, you know how it is…ugly scene.

The guy ended up stealing my new toy, and Beru was inexplicably angry with me. In the end, Beru bought the baby a really expensive toy, just to piss me off. To get even with her, when we got home, I hid her asthma medicine. Let’s see how she reacts next time she has a major attack! Serves her right!

Lars- out!


Family portrait

You know, the force-forbid I should have just one peaceful day in my life, incident-free! Today started horribly. Dad stopped up the space-toilet and wanted me to unclog it. It was truly disgusting! It was discovered that dad had flushed down a bunch of death stick butts and an old pair of underwear. I assume he soiled the underwear, and got rid of them in embarrassment. I really resent the fact that my girlfriend had the stick her arm up that nasty toilet just because dad’s a gross slob.

After a hard day of work on the farm, all I wanted to do was sit back with a bag of puffed-pork and relax. Imagine my shock when Beru came out of the bathroom all dressed up. I asked her what the occasion was, and she said we had an appointment for a family portrait, and that she had told me three times about it. I don’t remember. Being that tomorrow is the one month anniversary of us getting the baby; she wanted all of us, even dad, to have our photo taken. Dad had obviously forgotten, as he looked like crap, and was probably high. Beru had dressed the baby in a little sailor outfit; he looked stupid. Grudgingly, I threw on a fresh robe and we waited for the photographer to show up.

The lady was really hot. Almost immediately, dad began hitting on her, asking her if she’d ever been a slave. She told him she was married, and then he began insulting her with vile curses, calling her a “tease” and a “skank“. The lady didn’t appreciate it, and tried to hurry the picture along. She got us to pose in the living room. I insisted on having my hunting knife in the picture, even though the lady was against it.

Right before the photo was snapped, the baby threw up all over dad. Infuriated, dad tried to grab the baby to harm it, but Beru pulled it away just in time. Instead, dad grabbed my nipple and twisted it hard. In retaliation, I kneed him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The fight lasted a good while, until Beru noticed that the lady had left. Leaving the baby in its vomit, we ran after her, but it was too late. Because dad’s such a jerk, we waited until he went to sleep tonight, then got a local artist to come by and paint only me, Beru, and the baby. It turned out pretty good, except you can’t see my hunting knife.

Lars- out!


Kenobi's finale?

Dad came home today. He was really mad because his disability check didn’t arrive, and even threatened the mailman. He quickly scampered inside to call the benefits office. He verbally plowed through several employees, trying to get an answer. That’s just like him, he can pay everybody back late, if at all, but if HIS check’s just one day late, watch out! He even had the nerve to ask me if I had cashed it! I told him I was highly insulted and to never speak to me again. The only grounds for his baseless accusation was that I had done this several times before. So infuriated that I could scream, I stormed out the door.

With dad busy on the phone, I decided to direct my energy to my most pressing concern: the cold-blooded killer next door. I knew I wouldn’t live in peace until I got rid of Anakin’s murderer. After some brain-storming, I came up with the perfect plan. I would scare him away! Since I had seen Obi-wan leave earlier, and his swoop bike was still gone, I snuck over there and placed a note on his front door with space-tape. The note read, simply:

“We know you’re here, Kenobi. We’re sending clone troopers over right now to arrest you. Signed, The Empire”.

I galloped home, knowing that as soon as Ob-wan saw the note, he would flee like a scared Ugnaught. I waited all day, watching his property with my electro-binoculars. The only time I wasn’t watching was when I sat to eat, and wouldn’t you know it, that’s when dad decides to go visit his “new son”. Dad found the note and brought it back to me. I denied putting it there, but he didn’t believe me. He told me Obi-wan was a good man, and that I’m crap. So I called him crap. Then he grabbed me by the robe and bit my arm super hard, enough to draw blood! I pushed him off of his glider-chair and started kicking him violently in the eye. Beru started screaming, the baby started to cry, in all, it was a nasty scene. Looks like Ob-wan gets to stay one more day, all thanks to dad!

Lars- out!


Disability check

Dad had to stay in the hospital another day due to complications resulting from his Wookie blood transfusion. Some of the side-effects included howling and excessive hair growth. Dad has this unfair notion that the whole thing was MY fault, but that’s probably the medicine talking, so I’ll try not to take it to heart. I received a pleasant surprise when I went to the mailbox: dad’s disability check. Without hesitating, I forged dad’s name on the back and went and cashed it. Having a bit of extra loot to throw around, I decided to take Beru out on the town. She’s still pretty upset about me not getting her an engagement ring, so I thought treating her to a night out would get me off the hook.

With baby in tote, we drove to the best truck stop in Anchor head. I let Beru order anything she wanted, reminding her that fatty foods make fatty women. She had a plain salad without dressing. I enjoyed a huge plate of steak and eggs, with a side of space-grits. The meal was pleasant except for the baby, who kept crying really loud for no reason. Everyone was staring at us; I was so embarrassed. Then it did a bad #2, stinking the whole place up. Everyone kept looking at me, as if I had done it. I made Beru change the diaper at the table, so everyone would know it wasn’t me.

The place had a gift shop, and I bought Beru a cool coffee mug with her name on it. Actually, they didn’t have “Beru”, so I got her one that said “Bettie”. She insisted that she didn’t want it, but I knew she was just being modest. She told me I should probably buy a little something for the baby, but I reminded her that earlier I bought him diapers and formula. Honestly, like I’m going to spend money on a baby that’s not even mine.

All in all, it was a good evening. I scored some brownie points with “Bettie“, and enjoyed a delicious meal to boot. As for the baby, if he ever embarrasses me in public like that again, I’ll work him to the bone when he’s older, and never let him go to any schools or academies, even if all his friends do!

Lars- out!


Wookie blood

I had to visit dad in the hospital today. He had apparently lost a great deal of blood due to some “accident”. He was found lying on Shmi’s grave by my neighbor and arch-nemesis Obi-wan, who claimed to have “sensed” the danger. Whatever. Anyway, he carried him all the way to Mos Eisley General. The doctor said that had he got there any later, dad would’ve died. Obi-wan should mind his own business!

I slept in late, due to my long evening yesterday. The intrusive call from the hospital came while I was having a fantastic dream. I was furious to discover that they needed me to go all the way there. When I arrived, the doctor said that dad needed a blood transfusion, and it’d be best if the blood came from a relative; namely, me. I have a terrific fear of needles and giving blood, so it was NOT going to happen. I informed the doctor that I contracted Hepatitis recently, and hadn’t got around to curing it yet.

Unfortunately, the hospital was low on blood, and dad had a rare blood type, at that. The only option was to extract the blood from a sick Wookie who had volunteered. The transfusion took a long time, and I was getting really bored. I told the doctor I had an emergency at home, and to call me if dad comes out of this thing all right.

That Obi-wan has some nerve trying to be the “hero”. To make it worse, the wizard visited dad later in the hospital and gave him a brand new glider chair as a gift, to replace the one that dad “lost”. The chair was a huge upgrade from the last one, complete with turbo boost and cup holders. He must’ve spent a fortune on it, all to make ME look bad. I’m getting extremely close to my breaking point with this guy! MAN I hate him!

Lars- out!


Owen the hero

The old goat finally fell asleep at 2 in the morning next to Shmi’s gravesite. Unfortunately for me, he had passed out in his chair, the very chair I needed to steal from him and then sell. I gently shoved him out of the chair, allowing his bloated body to plummet to the ground. On his way down, his head accidentally hit the sharp corner of his dead wife’s gravestone. Blood began pouring out of his forehead, but he didn’t even wake up. He was in some sort of death sticks-induced coma. Having little time to deal with this nonsense, I placed a handful of dirt on the wound, hoping it would help with the clotting process. Grabbing the glider chair and tying it to the back of the speeder with space-bungee, I headed into town. I was sure dad would be fine, but if not, I would see what I could do when I got back.

I spent several hours trolling the empty streets of Mos Eisley looking for a buyer. I finally resorted to pounding on all the doors at the nursing home, hoping to wake an interested client. At one door, an old lady who had obviously been asleep greeted me. I was in luck, as she stated that her glider-chair was breaking down on her. She went to give me the cash, but handed me too many bills, probably due to her failing eyesight. Cleverly, I told her that she had short-changed me, and she fell for it. After all was said and done, she had paid three times the price that we had agreed upon. I almost felt bad when she stared into her empty purse and stated that she didn’t know how she was going to buy her medicine now. Oh, well, at least she got a nifty chair out of it, so she can’t complain.

It wasn’t until 5 in the morning that I arrived at Jabba the Hutt’s palace with the money. Since it was after business hours, I placed an envelope with the cash inside of the drop box. I was now free of my debt, and could keep my life. As a side-bonus, Beru and the baby could keep theirs, as well. Although I was tired, I felt really good during the ride back home. Once again, I had saved the day! DANGIT!!! I forgot to put my name on the envelope!

Lars- out!


Hutt trouble

I awoke in a very agitated state this morning. Watto, who had the nerve to ask me for the money I owed him the other day, had apparently sold the note to a shylock from Jabba’s palace. The shylock, a huge beast of a beast, was pounding on the front door early this morning. I explained to him that I had no money, as we haven’t farmed enough moisture yet. I sarcastically asked him if I should cry in a bucket and go sell that. He wasn’t happy about that, and proceeded to “work me over” for a good while in front of Beru and the baby. Unbelievably, at no point did Beru attempt to jump in and help me!

Before leaving, the beast told me I had 24 hours to pay back the money or he’d feed us all to the Rancor. As soon as he was out of earshot, I cursed his family, then “thanked” Beru for “having my back”. I immediately called that winged traitor, Watto. He told me I was never going to repay him, and this was his way of getting his money back. I screamed curses at him until my throat was raw, slamming the phone down with all the teeming rage inside me.

I began racking my brain, trying to come up with a way to get the money. The Hutts were serious-type gangsters, and if they say they’re going to kill you, they mean it. Beru was not on board one bit with my plan to sell the baby on the black market. The only other thing of value that we have is dad’s glider-chair. But I would have to wait until he passed out before I could get it from him.

It’s now almost midnight, and dad’s still up. If I don’t have this money by tomorrow, I’m a dead man. Recently I smelled some death stick smoke coming from dad’s room. That’s good; he can’t last too much longer.

Lars- out!