I’m writing in as Ben Kenobi because this question pertains to the time I spent as Ben Kenobi. You might have noticed that Tatooine doesn’t have much of a need for skilled laborers aside from mechanics or computer techs (damn droids/immigrants), and aside from sword fighting, which would be too suspicious, and being really bad at diplomacy, which actually helps you to be a successful diplomat (if you can never solve any problems, there’s your job security right there—unless of course, a war breaks out, which they inevitably do), I have no marketable skills. Or at least that’s what I thought.
There are slaves on Tatooine and other problems, and like most places, you need someone to solve those problems, illegally or not. As I can feel the Force flowing through all living things, I made an incredibly good exterminator. There wasn’t much prestige in that, but I never had to do anything unethical, unless you count all the times I used the force to infest a house, then charged businesses and residences to get rid of the infestation. I know that’s kind of bad, but I’m not worried about going to hell for it.
You probably know that force users can use the force to create life. Well, that kind of goes both ways. Long story short: I ran the most successful chain of black-market abortion clinics in the history of Tatooine. So many females needed abortions, I didn’t even have to create unwanted pregnancies first like I did with the pest infestations. Except for a few times. But those times, they don’t really count you see, because of my charming English accent.
I must have directly aborted at least 10,000 babies during my exile on Tatooine. If Luke had just asked any woman where to find me, including his aunt, they would have told him exactly where to go.
After a while, it just became a job, and you do anything 10,000 times, you start to get bored. At first, I created miscarriages so subtle not even a trained professional would notice unless they were looking, and even then, it would look like it happened naturally. But after a while, I started getting creative. I force choked fetuses, I un-inseminated eggs, then re-inseminated, then un-inseminated, again and again and again, until even eggs without consciousness went crazy. There were a couple of really late-term pregnancies, as in the baby had already come out, where I had to stuff the baby back in and then force choke it—and sometimes, I didn’t use the force to do the first part.
Technically, this makes me a baby-killing mass murderer. Abortion, especially before the third trimester, is 100% not murder, but a lot of those babies, I definitely murdered. I’ve killed more younglings than Anakin ever did. It’s kind of ironic when you think about it.
In any case, I did 10 Hail Marys and repented right before Darth Vader chopped me in half, so I’m good, right? For when I decide to stop mucking around as a force ghost and settle down? An interesting thing about being a force ghost–you know how Jedi’s aren’t allowed to have sex or children? The rules kind of go out the window once you’re a ghost. I mean, what else is going to happen to you if you break some silly rule, right? I’ve actually performed hundreds of ghost abortions, too, but that business–again, it doesn’t really count. How could it? How can you murder a ghost fetus? It’s already a ghost. But just in case, should I repent one more time, before I finally “give up the ghost”?
According to some Christian nutters, aborted fetuses take the form of toddlers when they’re in Heaven. Why these “children” would fully gestate, grow to be 5 years old then stay that age for eternity, I couldn’t tell you. These sentient children know who the mother is that aborted them and cry about it and do all they can to make the mother feel guilty. That’s how they spend eternity. Doesn’t seem fair, does it? Doesn’t even make sense, actually, but I guess it fits the “fetuses are children” narrative. Anyway, the Christians nutters are right—abortion is murder. Full stop. In all circumstances. No exceptions. So I hope you like being a Force Ghost, because the second you de-ghostify, you’re toast.
Wait, did you say you already did 10 “Hail Marys?” Never mind—you’re good. Come on up to Heaven whenever you’re ready.
So the Disney+ streaming service is making a Ben Kenobi show. This is what the fans want, but not what the fans deserve. Star Wars fans are assholes. What they deserve is an Anakin/Padme sitcom starring Hayden Christensen and Natalie Portman, where Jar-Jar Binks is their kooky across-the-hall neighbor who has a bunch of pet Ewoks. It would be in the mold of King of Queens, in fact, maybe we’ll even use their set. And if Christensen and Portman aren’t available, we can bring in Kevin James and Leah Remini. Don’t worry—there will be a juicy part in it for you. You’ll be Anakin’s coworker at the UPS warehouse who’s always getting him into trouble. We’ll even get Angelina Jolie to reprise her role as Maleficent to be your wife. She’ll be bitchy and always criticizing your blue-collar oafishness. One of the sets will be a hair salon where she and Padme are always be talking shit about you and Anakin. Trust me, torture is my business, and this show will be some of the best justice I’ve ever doled out. I can’t wait to run it by the CEO at our next meeting.
Some people assume I’m the CEO of Disney. The truth is they don’t work for me, I work for them. They’ve had me slaving in the animation mines of North Korea, chained to my desk as I churn out cells 15 hours a day, 7 days a week. They’ve had me wear the Mickey Mouse costume in the middle of August when it was 1,000 degrees in the Florida sun (and I thought Hell was hot!) Now that the new Star Wars park is open, guess who they want me to play? Surprise, surprise—Darth Vadar. That’s a little on-the-nose, don’t you think? I’d much rather be Boba Fett, of course. I cosplay at Comicon as Slave Leia, but the Disney park is too family-friendly for Satan in chains and a bikini.
Have an uncomfortable question? Need some advice about your deviant behavior? If so, then it’s time to pray. Email your question to firstname.lastname@example.org, and it shall be answered in a Divine Advice column by Jesus and Satan.