OBI-WAN THE MURDERER

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.

20050730

Another funeral

We attended Rotta’s funeral today. It was sooooooo boring! The preacher droid went on forever about what she meant to people and how she’s at peace now, and some other boring things. Dad insisted that we bury her on our property, next to where he “thinks” Shmi is buried. Watto was o.k. with it, something strange as dad only knew her about a week. I think Watto just didn’t want to pay for the burial. Nice way to treat family, huh? During the long ceremony, dad wailed like a baby every time Rotta’s name was spoken. Beru and Watto cried too, but not so dramatically as dad. I mean, it was almost like he was pretending. The whole thing was so boring that I even picked up the baby so that I could play with him. Beru was shocked, this being only the second time I’ve held him.

Because the casket was so tiny, we only needed two pall-bearers to carry it out of the house. Watto and I received the “honor”. As we proceeded to the burial site, I noticed that the casket was made out of that rare metal that’s selling well right now, the same used in Shmi’s casket. Watto gave me a look as if to say, “don’t even think about it”. Dad’s speech was pathetic because he sobbed through the whole thing. I rolled my eyes every time he mentioned how much he loved her. What a loser. Watto’s speech was shorter, but no less pathetic. He went on about how their parents would take them on family vacations when they were little, and how they’d sit in the back of the speeder wagon and play road games. Spare me, please! It seemed like it would never end.

My relief came when the baby unexpectedly had a bowel movement. Without hesitation, I announced that I had to go inside and change it. Beru was even more surprised at this, as I had never changed a diaper, and furthermore don’t know where the diapers are kept. Once inside, I laid the baby in his basinet, and headed out the back door. Luckily, my speeder was parked back there. I put it in neutral and pushed it about twenty yards so no one would hear the engine start. Once I was far enough away, I cranked it up and drove straight to the local pod race. As luck would have it, I arrived just as the last race ended. Stupid Rotta!

Lars- out!

20050729

Aftermath

Things were bad today. Dad has this paranoid suspicion that Rotta was poisoned. After she died, dad sent her silly little body to one of the best coroners on Tatooine to try to determine the cause of death. The autopsy findings, released just today,were that she had a high concentration of Altopedamine in her system, a chemical commonly found in Womp-Rat poison. Upon hearing this news, dad cursed the force and vowed to bring Rotta's killer to justice. He decided to begin his own private investigation. One by one, he interviewed everyone who was at the party, asking them if they had heard or seen anything unusual. He specifically wanted to know if anybody had seen someone place a cup of fruit punch above the pantry.

As far as the cup, itself, dad sent it out to the lab to be dusted for fingerprints. Luckily, I used a glove when handling it because I had an open sore on my finger, and I didn't want the poison to come in contact with it. In fact, I wasn't at all worried that dad would suspect me. That is, not until dad interviewed Watto.

Watto claimed that he thought he saw me run out to my workshop and re-emerge with a cup of fruit punch, possibly wearing a latex glove. But Watto couldn't be 100% sure, as he had enjoyed several cocktail prior to the sighting. At least for now, dad's not pointing fingers at me. But he is watching me, I'll tell you that much. As dad's investigation continues, I will have to be careful not to appear guilty. Besides, I have nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like I did anything wrong. I mean, I didn't tell her to drink the punch. If anything, dad should be thanking me. She was nasty!

The funeral is set for tomorrow. That really sucks, as tomorrow is the first preseason pod race. If I can find a way to sneak away early, I may only miss the first few laps. In reality, I only need to watch the end so that I see who wins. That way, I will know who to root for in the next race.

Lars- out!

20050728

Tragedy at the homestead

When I awoke this morning, the house was already alive with activity. Beru and Rotta were decorating the living room with streamers and banners. When something needed to be taped up in a high place, Rotta would flutter her nasty little wings and fly up to do it. Dad was in the kitchen dressing up Luke like the New Year's baby. That made no sense, it being an engagement party, and all. The pantry was over-filled with all kinds of delicious snacks and beverages. They must have spent a small fortune on the groceries. I guess the electric bill will be paid late, again. A palpable excitement filled the air. There was genuine happiness in the homestead, so much that it was making me feel ill.

Watto was the first guest to arrive. He was carrying a large box adorned with a bright red bow. He begged the newly-engaged couple to open their present immediately. It was a fancy baby stroller. EXCUSE ME? He explained that the gift was for later, when they decide to have kids. It seems Watto is eager to become an uncle. What a jerk! Before long, the house was crammed with all sorts of lifeforms. Everybody toasted the lovebirds.

While the party raged on, I kept my eyes trained on the front door. What would I do when Obi-wan arrived? Would I run up to him and smash his face in? Or would I simply ignore him, thereby showing my disdain for him? No, better yet, I would poison him! That's it! Without hesitation, I made way to my workshop where I always keep a small amount of Womp-Rat poison. I mixed a teaspoon of the deadly powder in a cup of fruit punch, and waited for the unsuspecting Jedi to arrive. Anakin would finally be avenged! So that no one would accidentally drink it, I put the cup up high above the pantry.

I waited forever for him to arrive. After awhile, it was obvious that he wasn't coming. He's probably scared of me; as he should be. Bored with the stupid party, I went to my bathroom to relieve myself of a #2. When I came back to the living room, I was informed that Obi-wan had stopped by. Apparently, he was running late for a function and couldn't stay. He did, however, leave a present. It was a metal sculpture of dad and Rotta that he had carved with his lightsaber. The likenesses were uncanny. Dad actually shed a tear at the thoughtfulness of the gift. Obi-wan's such a show-off! Well, He got lucky. I guess he gets to live another day.

Sometime later, it occurred to me that I better throw out the poisoned punch. Before I could, however, a large thump resonated from the kitchen. The whole party turned to see Rotta lying face-down on the kitchen floor. Something had caused her to fall out of the air. Everybody raced to her aid, but it was too late. She was dead. In her scrawny claw was a cup of fruit punch that she had gotten from the top of the pantry. Uh-oh! Amidst the chaos, I was able to slip away to my room. I decided this was an excellent opportunity to take a nap. I couldn't sleep, though, due to dad's crying and wailing. Why can't he just be quiet?

Lars- out!

20050727

An unholy union

I didn’t sleep well last night. Beru got me up this morning, inquiring about R2’s head. I told her that the baby must have done it. I can’t remember all that happened last night, but R2’s parts were strewn all over the house today. Beru asked about the cut on my palm, but I cleverly told her that I cut myself shaving. She started going on about how strange I’ve been acting lately. I just wanted her to be quiet, as my head was throbbing. I went outside for some peace, but the suns were so bright, it made my headache worse.

I spent a good part of the day putting R2 back together. Afterwards, Beru complained that nothing on the droid was working. He couldn’t even make sounds. I’ll be sure to take a look at him later, after I’ve had a couple of drinks and my nerves are calm.

Dad showed up this afternoon with Rotta. The freaky couple had a “surprise” announcement. It seems dad proposed to her, and she accepted. Rotta gushed about how romantic the proposal was. It seems dad took her to the shooting range last night. In the parking lot, right next to the garbage dumpster, dad got down on one stump and popped the question. When he tried to get back up, however, he lost his balance and rolled over onto a bunch of broken glass. Rotta said she never heard so many curses and profanities in her life. After a brief stay in the hospital, the couple traveled to Mos Espa to visit Watto. Dad wanted to get his blessing, being Rotta’s oldest brother. Watto heartily welcomed him into the family. Dad’s such a nerd.

After Rotta had bored me to death with her story, she announced that they were throwing an engagement bash tomorrow; here at the homestead. They got together a guest list, which included all the usual life forms; people from the cantina, dad’s therapist, my P.O., and several of Rotta’s friends. It was bad enough that all these scumbags were going to be in my house, but my heart stopped when I noticed the very last name on the list: Ben Kenobi. I went off! There is no way on Tatooine that Obi-wan is coming to this party! A huge argument ensued between dad and me. At the end, dad was adamant that his “other son” must be invited.

In anger, I went to my room and slammed the door. It’s unfathomable that this Jedi can murder my brother and try to steal my girlfriend, and we’re going to have him over for beverages and snacks! I was so enraged, I could have spit fire! Well, I’ll tell you ONE thing that Obi-wan won’t get. I’ll make sure to hide all my bags of puffed pork before the party. That will show him! That will show them all!

Lars- out!

20050726

Blood on the dome

Last night was virtually a nightmare. I wanted to wait until the old lady was sleeping before messing with R2. But as luck would have it, this was the one night she picked to stay up late. She claimed she wasn’t tired, and wanted to “cuddle” with me as we watched holo-videos on parenting and couple relations. What a fine actress Beru has become! Realizing that this would ultimately ruin my chances of uncovering the truth, I excused myself. I made a bee-line for the kitchen, where I downed several helpings of refried beans, curdled milk, and expired cheese. I returned to my position on the couch, but it didn’t take long for the food to produce the desired effect. Within minutes, my intestines were doing an evacuation drill, of sorts, and it did not set at all well with Beru. It was not long before she declared that she was tired, and needed to go to bed. I don’t blame her; as the stench lingered in the air, it almost made ME sick and nauseous.

Finally, the ball and chain was in bed, and I could devote my attention to finding the secret love messages inside of R2. I found him in my workshop refitting steel bolts, as he was programmed to do. Upon approaching the droid, however, he cowered from me as if I had meant to do him harm. What in blazes would make him act in such a manner? Obviously, dad had “hurt” him in some way; that sick, one-legged freak! R2 was very standoffish, not allowing me near him for a proper inspection. I knew the only way to get to the bottom of this was to put the little taupe S.O.B. out of commission. Acting as if I was on my way out of the garage, I turned around so quickly that the machine never knew what hit him. With all the energy I could muster, I kicked him solid in the back of the dome. The blow, luckily, was enough to knock his sorry behind out.

With R2 unconscious, I took every nut and bolt apart, thinking that starting from scratch was my best move. Unfortunately, I had once again enjoyed the company of many mixed drinks during the disassembly process, and could no longer focus on the details of re-assembling a broken betrayal-droid. In my anger and frustration, I slit open my left palm with a jagged R2 piece. With the blood, I penned the words, “I know”, on R2’s domed head. With all the force I could muster, I yanked R2’s head off of his torso. I placed this same dome in Beru’s bed tonight. I hope that when she awakens and sees it, she’ll realize that Owen Lars isn’t just some jackass she can turn on and off like a moisture vaporator switch. No way sister! Think again, you filthy skank!

Lars- out!

20050725

Spare parts

Last night, after Beru went to sleep, I immediately seized the opportunity to begin dissecting my R2 unit. I dragged the little metallic monster into my workshop with the sole purpose of discovering secret messages between my beloved Beru and the murderer of my brother, Obi-wan. Having already supplied myself with several very strong mixed drinks, my patience level was high, and I knew that the road to discovery was well within my grasp. That evil Kenobi will soon rue the day he came into my contact!

I spent many hours dismantling several of R2’s systems, hoping to find the holo-message that I was sure was there. I even disassembled his rocket boosters, just in case. After much time had passed, I had taken the droid totally apart, and my room was filled with loose parts. It was at this time that the drinks began affecting me, and I could no longer concentrate on what I was doing. In my inebriated state, I attempted to put the machine back together. It didn’t go very well, as my judgment was clouded. I may have put some pieces back in the wrong places.

This morning, Beru needed R2 to vacuum the living room, but he instead began shocking the baby with a strong electrical current. She asked me what was wrong with him, and I told her I saw dad tinkering around with him. With my faculties restored, I realized what a poor job I had done in putting him back together. Everything was in the wrong place; even his domed head was upside-down. To make it worse, I found a pile of spare parts in my bedroom. I would have to take a look at him later.

Dad awoke in a chipper mood today. He was whistling a love song as he readied himself in the bathroom. Undoubtedly, Rotta was on her way to pick him up. It’s starting to piss me off how happy dad is lately. At breakfast, he asked me how I would feel about having a new step-mother. I told him to take a leap off of Beggar’s Canyon. I mean, really; first he marries some dumb slave, and now he wants to marry that winged freak, Rotta. What a waste of space he is. Having lost my appetite, I went back to my room, slamming the door behind me. In retrospect, I don’t know why I slammed the door. I stared at the pile of R2 parts, not knowing if I could put them back in the right places. The poor droid may never be the same.

Lars- out!

20050724

The Astromech Affair

It has been 2 days, and there has been no contact between Beru and Obi-wan. I know this because I have been watching her every move. If something IS going on, they would need to find a clever means of communicating without me knowing. Although I witnessed Beru hand-deliver a love letter to him on Friday, she would not be able to do that all the time, as I would eventually be wise to it. So how are they communicating? That very question has been plaguing my mind.

I immersed myself in my farming today to get my mind back on track. While I was tending to the south range, I spotted R2 trudging along in the desert. He was coming back home from the direction of Obi-wan’s place. What in blazes was he doing there? Then it hit me like a ton of space-bricks. They must be using the droid to secretly deliver love messages to each other. I saw it all so clear. Each of the star-crossed lovers would record a holo-message about how much they love and need each other, and send the droid on its way. There’s no doubt that the messages would include plans and ideas about how best to murder me in my sleep in order to get me out of the way. Et tu, Beru?

I immediately dropped everything and followed the droid inside. Beru, upon spotting R2, stated that she needed his services. I’ll bet! I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. I told her that before R2 could help her with “the dishes”, I needed his help in the bathroom. This didn’t seem too odd, as R2 has helped me wipe in the past. Once in the bathroom, I began playing with all of his gadgets, trying to find the hologram-playback feature. Not being too familiar with the inner machinations of astromech droids, I was having very little luck.

Having spent too much time in the bathroom as it was, I decided I would tinker with my domed friend later, when Beru was asleep. In the meantime, I put a piece of duct tape over the image display lens. Beru would never see Obi-wan’s message, not if I can help it. Before exiting the bathroom, I placed a piece of toilet paper in R2’s utility claw just to cover all the bases.

I spent the rest of the afternoon looking for R2’s instruction manual. While I was searching for it in dad’s dresser drawers, I found a diamond ring, still in its box. It was very small; the kind that would fit on the finger of a nasty Toydarian. Oh, please don’t tell me dad wants to marry Watto’s sister! What else could happen?

Lars- out!