The doorbell rang again,
'Force, we're getting popular,'
and Vader answered it, hoping that it might be Girl Scouts again. He opened the door, and instead saw a weedy-looking middle-aged humanoid standing before him. Vader took in the thing's clothing and traveling case, and immediatly understood who this creature was. When it began talking, Vader's suspicions were only concerened.
"No."
"What, sir?"
"No. Go away. Before I kill you."
"What, sir?"
"Too late."
Vader began to slowly crush the scum's windpipe, and watched in pleasure as the trash clutched its throat, eyes popping slightly out of their sockets. It was only when it went limp in his Force hold after Vader felt the soft cartilage give out that Vader let it go. He looked at the body on his doorstep, and sighed. He'd have to call his minions in for body detail. So troublesome.