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.

20050922

The 100th shock!

I just realized that this is the 100th time that I’ve sat here to document all the important happenings of my life. Ironically, it is on this landmark occasion that I find myself at a complete lack for words. What I saw on the front page of The Mos Eisely Gazette today shocked me to my very core. I’m rarely speechless, but I’m going to have to let the newspaper article speak for itself:


Mos Eisley Gazette, Anchorhead Edition, Thursday, September 22, 2005



Suspected Jawa killer captured

After a bloody shoot-out which left several Mos Eisely residents wounded and killed, police apprehended suspected Jawa killer Cliegg Lars. Lars, a long-time resident of the greater Mos Eisely area, was arrested just before sunsdown yesterday. He was held without bail overnight.

Also arrested were Watto Robertson, a resident of Mos Espa, and Beru Whitesun, a resident of Mos Viggo. The two are also being held as accomplices.

What should have been a simple arrest turned into a bloodbath after police received an anonymous tip that fingered Lars as the Jawa killer. That same anonymous source led police to the Cantina Bar and Grill, where Lars was drinking with Robertson and Whitesun. When police first approached Lars, he was lip-locked with Whitesun, who was sitting on his lap. Robertson, a Toydarian, hovered above the couple and video-taped them. When Lars noticed the police, he quickly pulled out a blaster rifle and began shooting.

At present count, Lars allegedly shot and killed twenty-five people in the cantina, alone, including four police officers. The bloody rampage continued on the streets of Mos Eisely, where Lars and the other two suspects opened fire on police reinforcements. A total of seventeen officers were wounded and killed before the trio was apprehended. Arraignment is set for Monday. Lars may also be charged in association with the mysterious death of his wife, Barb Lars, some eighteen years ago.

Police Chief Devo Brison said that in his thirty-five years on the force, he had never seen a bloodier day than today. “We lost a lot of good men here today. I hope they hang him [Lars], that winged freak, and that Beru girl he was making out so hot and heavy with, too“.

A memorial service for the victims of the shootings is being planned for Friday.



WTF??!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lars- out!

20050921

More mystery

I was rummaging through dad’s personal stuff today, minding my own business, when I came upon something rather unusual. It was an old tin container simply labeled, “Things I don’t want Owen to ever see”. Curious, I pried open the container. Inside were a bunch of old photos. Most of them were of dad when he was very young, back when he had both of his legs and knew how to smile.

In several of the photos, dad was with a very beautiful young woman; my mother. I’ll admit that I don’t know much about my mother, as she died when I was six years old. All I know about her are the few things dad shared about her during the years, but he really doesn’t like to talk about her much. It seems that her death was really painful for him. Dad had told me that she had died in her sleep because she was overwhelmed with her naughty six year old son, and didn’t want to face life anymore. I always tried to not take that personally.

These photos were my first chance to see this happy young couple the way they really were. Somewhere in the middle of the pile of pictures was something rather queer. It was a photo of mom and a Jawa. At first, they were just posing together, but as I advanced through the rest of the photos, they got closer and closer. Finally, I came upon a snapshot of mom kissing the Jawa passionately on the mouth. Gross!

The next series of pictures was even worse. One showed dad with an angry stare as he caught the two kissing. The next showed dad choking the little robed creature as mom protested. Finally, I came across the worst photo of them all: a gruesome pic of mom lying in a pile of ketchup while dad stood over her with a sharp blade. What the heck was this, role-playing? And who took the pictures, anyway?

Confused, I decided I needed to confront dad about all of this. I had the right to know what really happened to my mother, and by the force, he was going to tell me. He wasn’t in his room, so I asked Carl where he was. He said dad went out to the cantina with Watto. Oh, great! They didn’t even invite me. I told Carl to warm up the rickshaw, as I needed a ride to Mos Eisely. But he explained that Padme had chewed the wheels off of it, and it was unusable.

I would just have to wait until dad returned. The minutes turned into hours as I paced the house, wondering what had really happened to my mother.

Lars- out!

20050920

Goodbye, Luke

I got a strange letter in the mail today. It was from a family lawyer who claimed to represent Beru Whitesun in an adoption action. He stated that Beru wants to formally adopt Luke Skywalker, and that he must disclose this to me, seeing as how I raised him for the first few months of his life. The letter further stated that Beru doesn’t want me involved in this action in any way, and that if I feel like contesting the adoption, I would have to seek counsel of my own.

My first reaction to this letter was sadness. How could she do this to me? I was a good dad to Luke. I kept him fed, clothed, and sheltered. I held him twice and looked at him a handful of times. I’m not saying I was father of the year, but maybe of the month (July). How could she adopt him on her own and take all legal parental rights from me? It just didn’t sound right. This must be the work of those evil Whitesuns. We all know they never liked me, so it makes sense that they’re pressuring Beru to take this action.

I moped around the house all day in a deep depression. I decided to talk to dad about the matter, seeing as how he’s Luke’s grandfather-in-proxy. I found him in his workshop sharpening his knives, his back turned to me. I thought it might be funny to sneak up on him and spook him. His reaction was killer, literally. He spun in his chair faster than a womp rat in a turbine engine, swinging a freshly-sharpened machete. The edge of the blade grazed the side of my skull, taking with it a huge clump of my hair. Realizing it was me, he apologized, stating that he thought I was a Jawa. I wonder what he meant by that.

After the initial shock had passed, I showed him the letter from the attorney. He agreed that this must be another Whitesun ploy. He suggested we kill them all, but I felt that idea was a bit extreme. I asked him if we should get an attorney of our own and fight for custody of Luke, but dad said we simply didn’t have the money for such a legal battle. In fact, he said we had to face the fact that we would never see little Luke again. For some reason, those last words stung the worst.

All day I gave a lot of thought to this whole mess. Later, while petting Padme’s belly, I felt a very strange sensation. Without warning, water began flowing from my eyes at a tremendous rate. At first, I thought I was sick, and would ultimately die from this fluid loss. I consulted with Carl, and he told me it was nothing to be alarmed about; I was only crying. He further explained that human beings have tear ducts, and that they excrete water when a person is very sad. I told him I was thinking about Luke when it started. He said it was obvious that I miss my little boy.

You know, Carl was right. I do miss the little guy. In my sadness, I was tempted to blame myself for all of this, but soon dismissed it as self-projected guilt. Damn that human psyche! Dad was right, too. I have to get used to the idea that Luke is gone for good. Goodbye, my son. Live long, and prosper.

Lars- out!

20050919

Man's best friend

Well, I can forget about Obi-Wan healing my Padme clone. After dad heard that the Jedi healed Carl’s face, he went straight to his house to be healed, himself. He asked Obi-Wan to help him grow his leg back, but the crazy wizard explained that the force doesn’t work like that. Apparently, a Jedi can only perform cosmetic healings. He further explained that he tried to heal Padme’s clone, but that the DNA was so much in conflict, it was futile. As far as dad, he would have to continue living with his disability.

After this dad was really depressed. He retrieved several sharp cutting instruments from his workshop and headed towards the Jawa encampment. He must want to barbeque with them. Later, I caught Carl looking at himself in the mirror, admiring his pretty face. I decided to let him keep his good looks since Beru’s no longer around. He has yet to thank me.

While I was eating lunch, Padme stumbled clumsily into the kitchen and sat across from me at the table. I could barely eat my food while looking at the hideous beast. She groaned incessantly as she stared at my food, as if she was hungry. I hadn’t fed her anything since bringing her home, hoping she’d starve to death. In a compassionate moment of weakness, I shared my food with her. She devoured it like a hungry animal. I then gave her some more, even offering her a cold beverage to wash it down. It was actually kind of fun watching her eat. I felt really good, like I did something nice.

Later, I took Padme outside, and threw sticks for her to fetch. She would sometimes catch the sticks in mid-air! It was a lot of fun. After that, I taught her to walk on all fours. I fashioned a makeshift leash from some old rope, and took her for a walk around the property. As we strolled the yard, we would occasionally stop so she could go #2. I’ll admit I was having a really good time.

I’ve never had my own pet before. Dad always said that pets make people weak, but I don’t think so anymore. My new Padme dog was bringing me a lot of joy. She’s even changed my outlook on life a bit. For example, when Carl was moving heavy parts earlier, I gave him a hand. We got to talking about life, and I learned a lot about him. He was sweating profusely, having had worked 36 hours straight, so I gave him the rest of the night off. He was very grateful.

I fed Padme once more before bed and left her a bowl of fresh water. I even let her sleep at the foot of my bed. I think I really love my new pet. Sleep tight, Padme.

Lars- out!

20050918

Dark chapter

I spent the better part of this weekend trying to come to terms with my new “family.” Dad was still around, but Beru and the baby were gone. Carl and the Padme reject, new additions to the Lars homestead, rounded out our unholy foursome. Carl even managed to completely fix my R2 unit, making us a family of five; a family that I hate so. I had the queer notion to call Beru on Saturday, just to see how she was, but quickly got the idea out of my head. After all, if she’s going to up and leave me for no reason, why should I contact her?

Yesterday, a big fight erupted between dad and Carl. Apparently, they both sought the company of the grotesque Padme clone, and were sick of the competition between them. I broke up the brawl, telling them that they were both acting like a couple of children. I suggested that they let Padme decide who she’d rather be with. Let’s examine her choices in more detail: on one hand, she has the young slave whose face was burnt off in a careless accident, and on the other hand is the bitter, crusty, 50 year old cripple with bad hygiene. Either way, it’s a raw deal.

I walked to the cantina today. It took me about five hours, but it was worth it, since I was out of spirits. It was nice to get away from those crazy people who live in my house. After a strong session of abusing alcohol and debauchery, I stumbled home. When I got there, I received the shock of a lifetime. Apparently, Obi-Wan came by while I was gone, and upon seeing Carl’s badly burned face, felt sorry for him. So what does he do? He heals Carl’s face using the force! Now the guy’s like new: a handsome mug with a proud Roman chin (whatever Rome is). The nerve of that scumbag Jedi, coming to MY house and healing MY slave!

Since then, dad’s been more jealous of Carl as ever. He keeps promising to kill Carl in his sleep, but that’s just tough talk. Dad could never kill another life form, it’s just not in him. It occurred to me later that if Obi-Wan could heal Carl, maybe he could heal Padme, making her hot, like she’s supposed to be. But I can’t go ask my sworn enemy for a favor, I have far too much pride. I’d have to come up with another, more clever way of getting him to do it.

Just before bed, the Padme zombie stumbled into my room and vomited blood all over my rug. Gross! I made Carl come clean it, but he said the rug was ruined. Just my luck; that rug really tied the room together.

Lars- out!