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.



I spent most of yesterday trying to deal with my new Padme problem. After waking up on Watto’s couch, I went to his back porch to check on the mutant freak we had left in a cage overnight. I was disheartened to find it still alive. I knew I had no course of action but to go back to Kun La and beg him to take the grotesque animal back. After all, it’s not like I can go home to dad and Beru with it. How would I explain its existence? No- there was no way I could keep it.

By the time we arrived at Kun La’s place, it was too late. He had already gone to the Mos Espa Courthouse and submitted paperwork putting me in charge of Padme. Even though she’s the equivalent of en eighteen year old girl, he put down that she’s a week old, which is technically the case. What a jerk Kun La turned out to be! I hate him! Before we left, he had the gall to tell me that if I want any other clones, he’ll give me a 25% discount. I told him to clone my middle finger!

I decided to spend one more night at Watto’s, but had no fresh ideas upon waking today. This afternoon, Watto said I had to go, as Padme was frightening his space-dogs. During the ride home, Watto told me that he had redecorated his guest room for Beru. WHAT? Does he honestly still think I’m going to give him Beru? There’s no way in Mustafar; Beru’s much hotter than my Padme clone! I held my tongue, however, since I needed the ride home. When I get back, I’ll tell the jerk to piss off.

Everything was quiet when we got back to the homestead, besides my slave, Carl, tending to a broken moisture vaporator. I found it queer that Beru wasn’t out hanging laundry on the clothesline, something she does religiously at that time of day. We untied Padme and led her into her new home. I still didn’t know how to explain her to the family, so I’d just have to improvise. I received quite a shock when I went in the house, however; Beru was gone. She had taken the baby, all of her belongings, and even my puffed pork, just to spite me (I actually found the puffed pork in the cabinet later that night).

I found dad in his workshop; he was, once again, covered in ketchup. He told me that Beru had moved back with the Whitesuns. I asked him why he didn’t stop her, and he said he was busy killing Jawas. You know, that’s a very insensitive thing to say, especially since there’s a serial killer targeting Jawas right now. But why in the world did she leave? He said I told her to. What? I did no such thing! Beru obviously just can’t handle being the girlfriend of the coolest guy on Tatooine. Oh, well, I’ll do just fine without her.

Dad asked who my cute friend was, referring to Padme. Gross. Meanwhile, Watto was fuming because he couldn’t have Beru now. I told him to take a leap off of Beggar’s Canyon, something he didn’t take well. He immediately sucker-punched me in the butt and left. Later, I paced the empty house, contemplating this new change in my life. I decided it was for the best. Now I could be a bachelor, and I would no longer have to hear all that crying or smell all that poop, at least when dad’s not around, that is.

I went outside to check on Carl’s progress on the vaporator. I found him out there hitting on Padme. A few yards away, dad was staring at the couple, teeming with jealousy. If looks could kill, Carl would’ve been dead on the desert floor. What the heck had happened to my life? Where did I go wrong?

Lars- out!



Watto picked me up this morning as promised. Before leaving the homestead, I told Beru that we were over and that it was time to pack her things. In an unforeseen fit of hysteria, she begged me to explain why. I told her I didn’t have any time to explain; just to be gone by the time I got back. I told her that Watto had an empty room at his house if she desired. Actually, she won’t have a choice. As we pulled away in Watto’s speeder, Beru fell to her knees in the sand, wailing in agony and gnashing her teeth. All I could do was laugh. What a fool she was making of herself!

I had space-butterflies in my stomach the entire trip to Mos Espa. I wondered how my Padme would react when she first saw me. Would it be awkward at first, being turned over to a complete stranger? How would I introduce myself? Should I call myself Owen Lars, or perhaps, “The Larsinator”? What about, “Bone Crusher”? Oh, well, we would just play it by ear. By the time we pulled up at Kun La’s house, my heart was racing like a kettle-frog in a heat trap.

Kun La greeted us and led us into his laboratory. I expected to see my new Padme right away, but he explained she was going to the bathroom. He provided beverages for us while we waited for her to emerge. She took a long time, and made some un-forcely noises while in there. Many of the grunts didn’t even seem like they were coming from a human. I eyed Kun La suspiciously. He explained that because we used the unstable super-growth accelerator, Padme did not develop properly, leaving her somewhat disfigured. Just then…

The THING emerged from the bathroom.

In twenty-four years of living and breathing, I have NEVER, EVER seen anything as vile or ghastly as the new Padme Clone. It was downright hideous! It definitely looked like Padme, but had an extra half an eye that dripped down the sagging side of the face. The hair had not come in fully, leaving barren patches of boil-covered skull. The mouth and nose were so disfigured that they were difficult to discern; for all I knew, they were rearranged! The whole body was a mess: entire sections of skin missing, bones showing through on the forearms, legs, and mid-section, numerous scabs and lesions, and extremely poor posture.

The thing dragged its bum leg behind it as it walked, and its eyes sunk up into its head, as if it were brain-dead. It didn’t talk, only communicating through horrible groans and grunts. But perhaps the single most disturbing feature was that Padme had gorilla hands. ACTUAL GORILLA HANDS!

Kun La apologized for the inconvenience, and began giving me some care tips for Padme. I looked at him like he was crazy, but he insisted that in our contract I agreed to take possession of Padme when she reached eighteen, regardless of outcome. Apparently, I had signed a waiver because of the use of the super-growth accelerator. Kun La stated quite clearly that if I didn’t take Padme with me, he would take me to court for breach of contract. The last thing I need is more trouble in court.

So Watto and I tied Padme to the back of his speeder and headed to his house. I asked if I could stay the night so I could think what to do next. He agreed, as long as I kept Padme in a cage outside, which is what we did.

Lars- out!


She's eighteen...and she's mine!

Today I got the call. I was rolling change that I had found in the sofa and at the bottom of dad’s night jar when Beru called out to me. She said somebody named Kun La was on the phone for me, and my heart leapt from my chest like a jack-in-the-box. I scampered to the phone and ripped it violently from Beru’s clutches. I listened intently as Kun La reported the very news I had been hoping to hear: my Padme was finished.

He said that she was now fully-grown; the equivalent of an eighteen year old girl. This morning, he took her off of the super-growth enhancer, so from now on she’ll age normally. I was so excited; I peed a little in my bloomers. He said I could pick her up at any time. Not having a vehicle at my disposal, I asked him if he could provide delivery. He only laughed and told me to come by at any time. After hanging up, Beru nosily asked who that was on the phone. I told my soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend it was Nunnya. She seemed confused, so I clarified: Nunnya Business!

I paced the house excitedly, trying to come up with a way to get to Mos Espa. I was going to change my underwear, but forgot. After a while, the pee dried, so no-harm, no-foul. Although Watto was most likely still mad at me about last week, I called him anyway. I begged the ugly little Toydarian to come pick me up, but he told me to go to Mustafar. I even promised to give him Luke, so he could use him as a slave when he got older. He said he wasn’t interested in raising a baby, but that there was ONE thing he did want: Beru.

He admitted that he always had a thing for her, and he’d love to marry her. I told him that he was a scumbag for harboring feelings for her all these years. I mean, what kind of person does that? But on second thought, I realized that I would no longer need Beru, so I agreed. Watto said his speeder was in the shop, so he couldn’t come get me until tomorrow. The anticipation was killing me, but I had no choice but to agree.

I spent the rest of the day frolicking around the house, humming a cheery tune and performing cartwheels, and the like. I was so happy I couldn’t even hold in my gas, not that I was trying to. Beru inquired as to my cheerful demeanor, but I offered no explanation. She seemed quite confused that I kept referring to her as, “Mrs. Watto.” Beru gets confused often; a trait I will not miss once she’s kicked to the curb tomorrow.

In the confines of my room, I stared at the ceiling and daydreamed about my life with Padme’s clone. What would we do first? A walk in the park holding hands? A kiss on the lips? I know- I’ll take her to the cantina right away and show her off to all the boys. They’ll be so jealous of me! As I pondered tomorrow’s events, one thing that Kun La said on the phone kept coming back to me. The last thing he said was that there was a minor defect in the cloning process. I asked him what it was, but he said he’d rather just show me. I wondered what it could be, but soon dismissed it. It’s probably something stupid, like a mole on the back of her neck. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.

Lars- out!



I spent the afternoon in the cantina watching pod racing holo-casts. The cantina sprung for the pod racing Sunday Ticket, and now we can watch all the races at the same time. I was elated because my favorite pod racer won, despite a miserable season last year where he only won 4 out of 16 races. In the off-season he changed managers and his overall racing scheme, and it paid off today. It makes me look forward to the rest of the season.

High as a space-kite over the win, and a near-lethal amount of mixed drinks, I stumbled onto the dusty roads of Mos Eisely. It soon dawned on me that I didn’t have any money for a cab, having spent it all at the cantina. It was evident that I’d have to steal somebody’s vehicle. Near the hospital I spotted my salvation: a truck labeled, “Blood Mobile.” The truck was running and the driver was behind it, assisting several losers who were donating blood. They were all lying on little cots while blood was being drained from their arms to the blood tanks inside the truck.

Without hesitation, I jumped in the vehicle and hit the accelerator. The people giving blood let out a symphony of horrific screams as the I.V. tubes were ripped out of their arms. Through my rear-view mirror I could see fountains of blood cascading them as the driver tried desperately to save their lives. Oh, well, they shouldn’t have been giving blood in the FIRST place!

I decided to ditch the Blood Mobile a couple of miles from the homestead; closer to Obi-wan’s house than mine. Dismounting the vehicle, I was shocked to find that one of the blood donors had been dragged the entire way because his I.V. never detached properly. He was pale as my bed sheets (when they’re clean), and I thought him an Albino, that is, until I saw the blood trail he had left behind us on the desert floor. I almost felt bad for the guy, but then didn’t. I was almost home, and I had to concentrate on that.

My two-mile trek on foot didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked. I was accosted by a gang of Tuskens, ones who were looking for trouble. Hopelessly outnumbered two to one, the fellows put the throw-down on me. Besides stealing my wallet, they also pummeled me viciously in the face as they administered a series of painful wedgies. Leaving me to die in the desert, they ran off laughing.

I managed to crawl back to the homestead, where Beru ran out to help me. After taking me inside and cleaning me up, I told her that this world is evil and unjust, and that good people like us don’t stand a chance. She agreed, and we shared a good cry.

Lars- out!