Aren't I just the envy of every Imperial Navy?
Picture courtesy of SpectreTouch
I, the 224th clone of the infamous Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader, was grown in a Spaarti Cloning Cylinder upon the hidden Imperial stronghold of Byss, deep within the Galactic Core. Released all too early from the cloning device (to make room for a Terran entertainer known as Pelvis or Elvis), I was inflicted with a madness - total insanity which was to plague me for the rest of my life.
Doing no work whatsoever, I was assigned to stride around the garrison, shortening the average life span of Imperial officers, and making sure that people clean up after my ill-advised pranks. However, after the infamous "Space Slug Spaghetti" incident, Imperial warlords deemed me far too unworthy (the actual words used were, "dangerous, insane, biohazardous, etc.") to serve the Empire upon such a secure planet. Upon receiving my new orders to capture and subdue an insignificant planet known as Terra, I became rougue, and fled to distant planets in the Outer Rim, constantly on the move to evade any Imperial prescence.
It was during these turbulent times that I discovered the Fluffy Side of the Force. It was hidden under the doormat of a cave upon the planet Cartooine. Right then and there I knew it was the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. Knowing that I must spread the word, I then knew that the Imperial Navy could be a valuable ally to transport my physical being to various worlds, since I did not possess enough change for even a Universal Transport that was, according to the government, supposedly free of charge. However, it required that every person who uses the method of transportation to have paid at least the last week's taxes. I have evaded my taxes since spawning.
Managing to save my dignity even when crawling through a pond of dinkos to prove my loyalty, I was re-enlisted after the local Moff took my portable Stimu-Caff machine as payment for the last decade's worth of taxes. I shall sorely miss my Stimu-Caff machine, since we've been through so much together - poor Betsy...
My confounded cloned brain had nearly forgotten, however, that my last assignment had been to capture the cursed planet of Terra. I was immediately taken into the Sol System, and deposited into a saucer-shaped drop-ship that commenced to take me straight down. Upon my crash (no better word can describe the landing), I inquired from several people standing nearby listening to Pelvis music where I was. They only mumbled something about Roosevelt and New Mexico. The people then broke into my wrecked drop-ship with what else but a primitive Swiss-Army knife, and took my inflatable companion, Bob, from his resting place upon my bunk. I never saw Bob again until some strange autopsy films were released concerning him. I am proud of Bob. He always said he wanted to become famous.
Knowing that I am too conspicious in my shiny, black, and oh-so-smooth armor, I traversed to California in the hope of blending in. It worked beautifully, and I do love San Francisco...
The Fluffy Side of the Force has guided me to this place. My destiny is sealed, as are the Terrans. Soon, the planet shall be devoid of life (save for those who are on "The List"), and will be sent to Omega Centauri to be used as the replacement for the hyper-ball they lost.
All will be good in the eyes of the Fluffy Side. Let the next Fluff come.