(Or "Adobe Wan Kenobi!")

"WELL THE LAST TIME YOU REMEMBER, THE SHIP OF PRINCESS NELLEIA OF PLANET ALL-DA-WRONG HAD BEEN TAKEN BY THE VILLAINOUS BARF TATER!"

"I'll NEVER tell you the location of the Freedom Fries base, NEVER!" Nelleia exclaimed, nervously holding a blaster as two Statetroopers held her down.

"Is THAT SO!?!" Barf exclaimed, bringing Nelleia closer to him. "Well now, how'd you like it IF I BLEW UP YOUR HOME PLANET?!"

"NOOOOOO!!" Nelleia exclaimed.

"WITH A SINGLE PUSH OF A BUTTON AND THE GREAT DISMAY OF POOR NELLEIA, A LASER EMITTED FROM THE SPACESHIP AND ALL-DA-WRONG WAS BLOWN TO SMITHREENS, ALMOST AS IF IT WERE NEVER THERE. MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE IN THE DESERT SANDS OF THE PLANET TATTOOONME, THE ESCAPE POD HAS CRASHED AND C3-Peab-0 and R2-Boy2 ARE STILL WANDERING ABOUT, HOPING FOR SOMETHING, OR SOMEONE TO COME BY."

"Oh R2-Boy2, we seem to be made to suffer…it is our lot in life…" the robotic dog spoke, his vocoder at a low pitch.

"R2-Boy2 BEEPED IN AGREEMENT, THEN SAID SOMETHING RELATIVELY NAUGHTY."

"Oh, quiet you!" Peab-0 remarked.

"SUDDENLY THE TWO ROBOTS BECAME ENSNARED AND PLACED INTO A SACK! WHEN THEY CAME TO, THEY FOUND THEMSELVES BEING SOLD IN A LOCAL TOWN..."

"Oh dear…I hope we do not get separated…" Peab-0 whispered to R2-Boy2.

"ALMOST AS IF THE UNIVERSE HEARD THE DROID, A YOUNG MAN (resembling Tom Slick) WALKED UP, SURVEYING THE VARIOUS ROBOTS THAT WERE BEING OFFERED FOR PURCHASE..."

("Ah, Tom Landdriver,") the shop owner spoke in an alien dialect. ("What'll it be today?")

"I'll taaakke….THAT ONE!" Tom exclaimed, pointing directly at C3-Peab-0.

("Here ya go…") the droid vendor pushed Peab-0 out to the young lad.

"NOOO, R2!!" Peab-0 exclaimed, dismayed at the prospect of being split up from his best friend.

("Uh, hold up, I just remembered, it's two-for-one droids day!") the shop keeper exclaimed, pushing R2 out. ("Buy one get one free!")

"Oh, sweet!" Tom replied.

"So, you are Tom Landdriver?" Peab-0 asked. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, I, am C3-Peab-0, human-cyborg relations, this is my counterpart, R2-Boy-2...wait..."

"THE DOG DROID SEARCHED TO FIND THAT R2-Boy2 WAS NOW GONE, THE ONLY THING REMAINING WERE THE TRACKS MADE BY HIS WHEELED, ROBOTIC LEGS."

"Wherever could he have gone??!" The dog droid exclaimed.

"I dunno, but we can go after him just fine!" Tom exclaimed, then yanked out the keys to his landspeeder (with a little disco ball charm attached). "Hop into my Thunderbolt Grease-Slapper!"

"You call that a vehicle?!" Peab-0 remarked, much to the contempt of Tom.

"AND SO THE DROID AND BOY DROVE ACROSS THE DESERT, UNTIL THEY DISCOVERED HIM WALKING ACROSS SOME DUNES."

"Oh, R2, THERE you are!!" Peab-0 exclaimed.

"R2 BEEPED SOMETHING BACK TO THE DROID, CAUSING HIM TO GASP."

"What do you MEAN "He's out here"?" The robotic dog pondered. "I thought I told you NEVER to speak of that man's name again, young man!"

"What man's na--OOMPH!!" Tom exclaimed.

"TOM HAD BECOME KNOCKED OUT ON THE GROUND BY THE SANDPEOPLE, AN ALIEN RACE THAT ROAMED THE DESERT. THEN, PEAB-0 BECAME UNCONSCIOUS AS WELL...BUT HIS SAVING GRACE WOULD COME FROM THE MOST UNLIKELY SOURCE…"

"EYYYYAAAYYAYAYAYAYAAAAH!!" A voice exclaimed, imitating a sandperson mating call, effectively distracting the tribe.

"THIS WAS NONE OTHER THAN THE LEGENDARY JEDI, ADOBE WAN KENOBI—A LITTLE GRAY FLYING SQUIRREL.

"Are you alright little one?" He asked R2-Boy2. The droid slowly nodded. "We'd better get him back…"

"ONCE TOM CAME TO HE FOUND HIMSELF AT ADOBE WAN'S HOUSE, ALONG WITH HIS DROIDS."

"What th—" he stammered. "Who th—WHY TH—HOW TH—WHO ARE YOU?!"

"I'm no one in particular…" the old squirrel spoke, pouring some tea…which appeared to be levitating. "But I know you, Tom.."

"No, wait, wait hold up, I remember now.." Tom stood up. "You're that guy—crazy ol' Rocky Kenobi, right?"

"That's a name I haven't heard since…before you were born." Adobe chuckled. "Actually, son, my name is Adobe Wan Kenobi."

"Dude, I knew you were crazy!" Tom replied. "This just proves it!"

"Here…" Adobe Wan spoke, pulling out a long, thin, metal-looking cylinder. "This once belonged to your father."

"I-I have a father?" Tom stammered, gently taking the cylinder from Rocky.

"Yes, go ahead, try it out."

"WITHIN AN INSTANT, A PLUME OF BLUE FLAME SHOT OUT...MAKING THE WHOLE THING SORT OF LOOK LIKE A SPATULA."

"Wow..." Tom gasped, moving the strange thing around in his hands.

"Yes, beautiful, isn't it?" Adobe asked.

"What is this thing?" The boy asked as the blue flame disappeared and he placed the cylinder down.

"It is a Spatsaber--an elegant weapon, for a more civilized age." Adobe Wan spoke. "I can teach you how to use it if you like. I can teach you…the ways of the Farce."

"The…fart?" Tom asked.

"NO! Not THAT!" Adobe exclaimed, a little aggravated that the first and only fart joke in this story had been made. "I mean the FARCE, the thing that's a part of all life itself! The thing that binds us together!"

"Nice." Tom replied, then thought. "So why have you bought me here?"

"Well, this little one appears to have a message." Adobe replied, gesturing over to R2-Boy2. "And it's important that we listen..."

"MAKE SURE TO BE WITH US NEXT TIME FOR "Solo No Mo'" OR "Pretty Fly for a Jedi!"