Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #7! A special standalone story featuring Obi-Wan Kenobi awaits! In fact, I won’t even break down the synopsis for the first storyline. I’ll just wait until the next storyline starts proper!

Also, because I’m lazy today. *shrug*

Here’s an important takeaway from the previous story: Luke discovered an old journal in Kenobi’s shitty shotgun shack. A journal that was deliberately placed for Luke to find. The comic boldy claims that “what follows is an excerpt from the journal.”

(no)

Star Wars (Vol. 2), Issue #7 [September, 2015]
Written by: Jason Aaron

Oh boy! Oh boy, oh boy! “Dear Diary – Today I was keeping an eye on Luke and then I went home and jerked it. I’m so lonely.”

A moisture farmer is getting raided by Bad Guys at the behest of Jabba the Slutt. The farmer cries and wails about having no other water, and no food, and about seventeen kids to feed, and a bidet to keep their buttholes fresh as a daisy, but this raider doesn’t care! He doesn’t care! How rude could you be?

One dude grabs a jug and glugs down what I assume to be a month’s worth of water. Just gluggin’ it down. “We’ll be back tomorrow to collect more taxes,” says Jabba’s minion. “Until then… I suggest you all get back to work!”

Guess what, fuckbag. A dude in a brown robe approaches, and he’s making a mean fist. As hard as it was to become a Jedi… it was even harder to stop being one.

Then the mysterious dude in a brown robe keeps on walking through.

But I did.

Welcome to the Great Drought of Tatooine! It sucks ass, and Kenobi is already kinda old, and he hasn’t even fondled his lightsaber in years. I wasn’t General Obi-Wan Kenobi anymore. I was no longer a Jedi Master. I was only Ben.

Life as a former Jedi was boooooooring. For one thing, no pussy. For another thing, no pussy. For one more thing, there was nothing to really do. One day blurred into the next. The desert is awful. Everything sucks the big wad. “Instead of Sith Lords and bounty hunters, my days were spent battling monotony and inactivity.” What he wanted to do was train young Luke, but his uncle never let him. All work and no play makes Luke a dull boy, I always say.

Well, maybe if Obi-Wan didn’t FUCK UP trying to train one Skywalker, he’d be allowed to train another! Zing!

Ben the Jewel. Ben the National Treasure. Ben the Apple of My Eye.

Jedi or no Jedi, ol’ Ben Kenobi promised one thing: to protect some little pisspants named Luke Skywalker. So he did. A lot.

“Whose place is this?”

“The Lars family. According to the records, they’ve… never paid their water tax. How did we let that happen?”

“We’ll make up for it right now. Take every last drop.”

So Kenobi intervenes in his ratty, 400-year-old robe. “It’s too hot for death wishes, old man,” says one of Jabba’s henchmen. “Move along and die of thirst like everybody else.”

Nah. Kenobi tried a Jedi mind trick, but it fails. I’ve never seen it work once since the “these are not the droids you’re looking for” scene. Why does he even fucking try? It’s always like “I’m a Krullinianian Vorplorp, such tricks don’t work on me!”

It’s very frustrating to watch this Luke Skywalker kid help farm the moisture. He’s supposed to be more than just a moisture farmer. He can farm the moisture from my butt, for all I care. This kid was destined for GREATNESS! Like hangin’ with Yoda on Dagobah. Or whining his way into losing his dang hand.

Stupid Jabba. Stealing everyone’s water. What does he need water for anyway? Someone oughta salt that slug.

Kenobi hangs around meditating. Floating bones up in the air for some reason. Jedi-ing when he shouldn’t be.

Qui-Gon Jinn never really knew what he was doing. Fading away is supposed be in the top three Jedi things.

Later, in that one town in Tatooine where you can deal with trade merchants and get shivved for your baubles, Ben Kenobi tries to trade in a bunch of stupid rocks. “You must be heat-crazed, old man. People here need water. You can’t drink from a stone. Get outta my tent.”

Oh ho ho HO HO HO HO! HO HO HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS! These aren’t just any stones. They’re black melons! There’s really disgusting fucking milk inside it, but the Tusken Raiders have been drinking the milk for years and THOSE guys are enviable beasts! And–

Oh shit, Jabba’s men have shown up to tell all these marketgoers to get the fuck back to their homes. While trying to shoot the civilians down, Ben Kenobi raises up his hand and jams all their guns at once. This gives the civilians enough time to jump their convoy and take back all the precious, precious, salty, poop-filled Tatooine water.

”I shouldn’t have done that, and I knew it. There was too much at risk. After that day… I decided it was best if I didn’t go into town anymore.”

So he didn’t. He did all his grocery shopping through Amazon from that point forward. He feels like there’s no nobility in hanging around this ugly planet doing nothing while people die and suffer. “I cannot fight as a Jedi. I cannot train the boy. I am lost here, Master.” Old Ben’s talking to himself again. Poor, poor old Ben. Poor old scrambled-eggs-for-brains Ben.

Oh shit! At that moment, Ben senses a disturbance in his pants. Owen and Beru Lars have grabbed their lanterns and are now looking for Young Lucas. The little scamp must have run off with the other Tatooine ruffians that plague the blasted lands. And, wouldn’t you know it? He and Jabba’s cronies have just crossed paths.

Fresh meat, Boys! A real piece of Hammill!

“I caught him trying to steal water off the Speeder,” says one.

“That right, kid? You were trying to steal Jabba’s water?”

Luke just scowls like he’s about to Avada Kedavra these bitches into oblivion. “It’s not Jabba’s. It belongs to the farmers. I was taking it back.”

OH HOOOO!!! HO HO HO!! HO HO HO!! CHEEKY LITTLE BOY WE’VE GOT HERE. CHEEKY CHEEKY CHEEKY. He ain’t afraid of nobody, man. One time his physics teacher Mr. McNally threw an eraser at him and Luke didn’t even duck!

“Throw him in the back with the jugs.” The dude points his thumb behind him, motioning toward the jugs. The jugs, man. The jugs.

Suddenly, without warning, the lights all explode on the Speeder. Then something invisible grabs hold of a guy and starts dragging him across the dirt. Then something invisible grabs another guy and launches him to *checks the star charts of the Star Wars Galaxy* …Mars.

Heads get crashed to the ground. Guns fly out of hands. Atomic wedgies get passed around like bread rolls at the dinner table. “YOU HEAR ME OUT THERE?!” One droid starts desperately yelling into the open desert. “WE HAVE THE BOY! STAY BACK OR WE KILL HIM! I SWEAR TO YOU, I WILL GUT HIM LIKE A BANTHA AT–”

Boom. Crash. Rocks. Broken droids. Force-related retaliation. Pretty soon, all the bad guys have been thoroughly taken care of and an unconscious Luke Skywalker is cradled in a (conscious) Ben Kenobi’s arms.

Kenobi drops the kid off at daybreak with an air of “fuck this kid” hanging over him.

Dropped him on the ground like the bag of trash that he is.

Luke remembers none of it.

”The farmers got their water back. Enough to survive a bit longer. About a week later, the drought finally lifted and their vaporators started churning again. Jabba was enraged and vowed to scour the desert to find the thief. But no one knew who he was. Not the guards he’d beaten or the farmers he’d helped. No one knew what he looked like. No one knew what to call him.”

We end with Luke reading the end of the book, spirits lifted!

“I don’t know where we’re headed buddy,” Luke says as R2-D2 pilots their starcraft. “…but I’m working on it.”

Final Thoughts

The more I read about Obi-Wan Kenobi dedicating his life to keeping an eye on Luke on Tatooine, the more of a complete idiot I believe he actually is. All Luke did was kill millions of people, mostly innocent low-level employees on the Death Star who didn’t know any better. The Jedi didn’t need to return! The Jedi can suck it!

“All very good points, Tom.” Yes, indeed. See you folks next time.