In Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace Anakin’s mother Shmi says
that the boy “has no father.” - leading the Jedi to believe he
was conceived by Midi files or some such nonsense. Obviously this is complete
horse crap which then begs the question: who IS responsible for the
little twerp? After exhaustive research I have been able to compile a list
of the most likely suspects along with the how, why and when for each alleged
deed. So without further ado, let’s see if we can decide WHO IS ANAKIN’S
FATHER?
R2D2
Occupation: Ass-kicking robot trash can
Parental Likelyhood: 15%
Your first reaction to this is probably that R2D2 is a robot and thus can’t
father a biological son. But try to keep a few things in mind:
- It’s a movie with spaceships, the Force and lines like “I hate
sand”
- Darth Vader (who, SPOILER ALERT, used to be Anakin) IS mostly machine
- R2D2 has that access probe thing he’s always whipping out for whatever
reason.
Now that I’ve answered the question of could it be done
we must next tackle the how, why, when and where. Consider if you will…
In her early years young Shmi Skywalker attended a public university on the
planet Naboo. But her wild nights and hard-partying lifestyle made Paris Hilton
look like Mary Poppins and it took a toll on Shmi’s studies. Failing
in her classes she turned ever increasingly to alcohol, debauchery and deathsticks.
One night, staggering home after a bender, she came across an equally drunk
R2D2. He beeped a wolf’s whistle her way and she couldn’t help
but be aroused. See, she’d run into him a few times on campus (he was
majoring in robo-ass-kicking 101) and figured “what the hell, he’s
a good-looking guy” Jumping on top of his can, she caught a ride back
to his place and they shared their passions well into the next morning.
Two months later Shmi was a girl in trouble and R2 - not wanting his future
wages garnished - was nowhere to be found. The only thing he’d left behind
was a note written with beeps she couldn’t understand. (R2 planned it
that way) Her debts astronomical, the only remaining recourse was the Tatooine
mail-order-bride racket, where a certain “Watto” was willing to
pay off her tab in return for absolute slave-hood. Figuring she’d go
back to school “someday” she accepted his offer, flew to Tatooine,
popped out Anakin and pretended the whole college thing never happened.
Postscript: Upon seeing R2D2 come to her house in Episode I her blood ran
cold, then she quickly dismissed it as “There must be a THOUSAND blue
robots! Millions!”
Yoda
Occupation: Wise green Muppet/CGI mentor
Parental Likelyhood: 15%
Chicks dig older men (like Sean Connery, Harrison Ford, Jack Elam) so when
it comes to 800 year-old Yoda it’s usually “your place or mine” at
first glance. Sure, he may have a diminutive stature and walk slower than a
worm but the Force is Strong with him. Take that as you may…
Now that you’re convinced Yoda’s a complete and utter chick magnet
let’s get down to the business of how HE got down to business… with
Shmi!
“Who Wants To Be a Jedi?” was the top TV show back in the day
and young twenty-something Shmi didn’t miss a single episode. Every week
she’d watch it and com-link in her vote for the best contestant. One
day, as luck would have it, a recruiter for the show happened into Watto’s
shop on Tatooine…
“Gut te nola!” croaked Watto, counting money and drinking a Hamm’s “We
a got what cha need!”
The recruiter, trained to act as if he likes anyone (despite how disgusting
or blue they may look) promptly blurted out “What I need, and I totally
think you’re perfect for this, is…. Drumroll folks… The
Next Republic Jedi!”
“Next a WHAT? Jedi ehh…? Bums! I don’t a ta like ‘em
Not one bit! I am an Italian Mobster caricature you know, so don’t a
cross me either!” Watto grumbled, reaching for his trusty tire iron.
“Excuse me” said a shy Shmi walking into the room “but can
I have a chance?”
“Like oh – my – GAWD! You’d be perfect honey!” the
recruiter exclaimed, practically falling over himself to give Shmi an entry
form “Just fill this out and you’ll be on your way!”
A month later on the show things weren’t going so great for the eager
Shmi…
“I do not see how you expect to swing your lightsaber into an opponent
when you can barely swing it through the air” Mace Windu dished out in
bitter judgement. “You have the grace of a cardboard bulldozer driving
over a field of greased bowling balls”
“But-“ Shmi insisted.
“Agree do I” agreed Yoda “Skill have you not. But have you
do is a smokin’ booty!”
“I wanna be a Jedi not a bimbo!” Shmi said, starting to cry.
“Unlikely to happen it is.” Yoda said, then gravely continued “As
of now no Jedi in you do have.”
A lengthy pause…
“Would a little Jedi in you like to have?”
Shmi’s initial reaction was disgust – this wrinkled old green
guy was actually hitting on her! Sadly it was her only hope if she truly wanted
to become a Jedi. Begrudgedly she followed Yoda back to his swank apartment.
“Your daddy who is!” the green horn-bag said, popping a few Levitra
(ask your doctor) Suddenly, Shmi didn’t think he looked so bad after
all… No, he’s actually quite cute… So cute, why, he wouldn’t
have to play a Jedi mind trick to get me in the sack. Nah! Never! Yeah he’s….
wait – it’s already the next morning and he’s gone! Where
are my pants?
The scandal shook the Jedi council to its very foundations. Yoda’s sexual
escapades were well known yet this latest shagging of a commoner - especially
one from the Jedi’s own reality show - was a bombshell. Disgraced and
hounded by paparazzi Shmi crawled back to Tatooine and didn’t tell Watto
a thing.
Two months later Shmi’s a girl in trouble but all Watto cares about
is the new free help he’ll have in the shop. “As long as I’M
a not the father, I a don’t a care!” he cackled upon seeing her
emerge from the bathroom with a purple-hued stick “Heh heh heh… Hope
he can clean switches and say Yippee!”
Jabba the Hut
Occupation: Eats
Parental Likelyhood: 20%
Jabba the Hut is to Tatooine as Bill Gates is to computers: He rules it all
- whether you like it or not. Granted it may seem unlikely that a character
as gruesome and fat as Jabba could father a child (much less find his own equipment)
but think about it – baby Jabbas have to come from SOMEWHERE, as it sure
as hell ain’t a stork! Let’s explore the possibilities:
“Ju-tu moolia churm!” Jabba bellowed one morning upon waking up
in a pool of his own vomit “Goosh neena plurb known-yah!”
Translations by Google: “God I’m hungover!” “What
the hell happened last night?”
A jittery protocol droid ambled forth. “Oh mighty carriage-endowed Jabba!
Last night you accidentally ate… oh dear… your dancing metal
bikini slave girl!”
“Bantha-podo!” Jabba blurted, smacking the droid with a flabby
hand “Jippo dun tanna mass torga DU tuppa doie-yah!”
Translations by Google: “Horse-crap!” “I fully intended to
eat that saucy wench – AND her metal bikini!”
The droid picked himself off the floor “A trillion apologies oh cellulose
one. Might I suggest you find a new slave girl to drag around?”
“Jaaaaaa…. Meen toya!” Jabba pondered “Goosh yuppa
je joppa!”
Translations by Google: “Ahhhhh! Good idea!” “I shall hit
the bars!”
The Cantina was one of the most happening bars on the planet - everybody went
there on a Friday night to have a good time (and buy power convertors) Some
nights they’d have live bands, other times they’d fire up the old
karaoke machine, but young Shmi Skywalker didn’t much care either way
- if there was a gaggle of horny moisture farm-boys around she’d be happy.
Mulling over her third blue milk-colored drink Shmi felt the presence of someone
slide up behind her. Maybe it’s the hunk I made eyes with earlier, she
wondered, unconsciously sniffing her armpits. Armpits OK she turned and saw:
JABBA DU HUT!
“Muh cha dunno de banka?” he blurbed out, a stream of phlegm tricking
down his chin and onto Shmi’s miniskirt.
Jabba’s droid waddled up. “Excuse me. The mighty artery-clogged
one asks if he may buy you a drink.”
“Ask him what kind of car he drives” Shmi snapped. The droid relayed
the question to Jabba, who immediately laughed.
“Har har har ho! Chon dunno konk je nobba bonko – chon bonko muh
hassa duh chon!”
“Jabba states that he doesn’t have to drive a car – his
private chauffeur drives for him!”
Shmi, always a sucker for money, was impressed. “Rich, huh?”
“Gujeppa…. Chuin buine com passa duh gubba-jeeb.” Jabba
whispered into her ear, careful to only get a little drool on her blouse “Chum
passa du tuppa doie-yah yuppa je onna”
The droid looked somewhat flushed, then said “Jabba asks if you would
accompany him back to his palace-“
“Palace?” Shmi jolted out.
“Yes, his palace,” the droid continued “He’s got a...
metal bikini he’d like you to try on.”
“Lemme get my purse” Shmi cooed softly. She was sold – sure
he was disgusting, but he was RICH and disgusting.
After a couple of weeks she grew tired of being drug around by a chain (the
appeal wears off) but enjoyed the otherwise lavish lifestyle enough to stick
around. Then one night after a nasty domestic dispute Jabba tried to eat her
and it pretty much ended right there. Enraged by her not-wanting-to-be-digested
insolence Jabba sold her to Watto for a pittance, dooming her to a life of
slave-dom. Little did Shmi know that because of her time with Jabba she now
carried inside her the seed of a man who would become… [SPOILER ALERT]
Darth Vader!
Jar Jar Binks
Occupation: Screws things up, babbles, accepts “moui macho” responsibilities
Parental Likelyhood: 20%
“My afraid mine been banished!” Jar Jar cryptically told the Jedi
in Episode I. Upon further questioning he revealed it was because of his clumsiness.
A likely excuse to be sure! Here’s a more logical one…
Young and comely Shmi Skywalker always enjoyed her yearly summer trips with
Watto to the resorts on Naboo. But as the years passed she found the excursions
to be ever increasingly boring. Maybe she was just getting older, approaching
womanhood, and outgrowing such a thing. Maybe it was Watto’s smell. Or
maybe it was something else…
Summer came and she found herself once again at the Nubian resort. Watto was
off having a Swedish massage (“Ahhh….. A that’s a what I
like-a!”) so Shmi decided to take a walk through the woods. From over
a ridge she thought her heard a sound… no, not a sound, but music. Yes,
a jumpin’ rhythm… a salsa-like beat! Intrigued she wandered towards
it…
The valley before her was filled with Gungans, all dancing and whooping it
up. One young strapping Gungan in particular caught her eye. Though he couldn’t
really dance worth a shit his seizure-like flailing had a certain machismo that
aroused Shmi’s inner beast. In a trance-like state she ambled up
and asked his name.
“Mesa Jar-Jar Binks!” hesa said, grabbing her into his dance “Yousa
pitty hot!”
Smitten, Shmi fell helplessly into his allure. Number after number, dance
after dance, drink after drink she felt more and more one with the Gungan until
later that night, back in his bachelor pad, she really DID become one with
him! Screams of “Yousa! Mesa!” were heard throughout the land.
The summer continued on. Watto spent all his time at the massage palor/whorehouse
and barely cared where Shmi went wandering off every day. Little did he know
that a certain Nubian native was railing on his slave with a reckless abandon
he could only dream of.
August came and it was time to go home. Watto eyed up Shmi as she packed her
bags.
“Shmi? Are you a gettin’ FAT?” He quizzed, noting a difference
in her girth.
Shmi felt her stomach “Um… well… no… but…”
“Wait! You’ve a been knocked a up!” her blue master growled.
“No! It can’t be! I mean… oh no!” she cried, flailing
herself onto the bed.
“No problem!” Watto consoled “It means a free slave for
a me! Heh heh heh… So! Just a be tellin’ me whose the father…”
“It was…” she stammered, “it was…” Her
mind raced. She couldn’t betray her beloved Jar-Jar. It might mean his
death – or worse! Desperate, she thought of anyone else on Naboo she
could blame it on…
“Panaka! It was Panaka!” she cried out “A royal guard in
the Nubian court!”
Little did Shmi know that Panaka - who she’d run across in the past
but thought nothing of - was, despite being a horrible actor, quite wealthy
and could afford the best lawyers Republic credits could buy. The patronage
trial began with a cross-delegation of Gungans and Humans, judged by Boss Nass,
leader of the Gungans himself.
“ Mesa havin’ been weighed all the evidence. And mesa also know
who the REAL father is” Boss Nass said. He then turned to the nervous
Panaka, who gulped along with his lawyer.
“Meesa knowa you notta the one done got Shmi in trouble!” mumbled
Boss Nass “When meesa wrong meesa SAY I’m wrong. BRRRRRRWRAAAHHHH!” He
then turned solemnly to Jar Jar, who gulped upon his gaze. Nass knew Jar-Jar
to be a screw-up, and a horny one at that.
“Binksssssssssss! Yousa havin’ affair with this herein bonko?”
Jar Jar turned white as a sheet “Uh…. Uh huh!”
“BRRRRRRWRAAAHHHH! Yousa to being pewnunished! Meesa banisha yousa outaa
bonko theesa kingdomesa!”
Translations by Google: “???”
“NOOOOOSA!” Jar Jar cried “Giva meesa another chance-a!”
“Be gone with heem!” Boss Nass exclaimed, waving a flabby hand.
Jar Jar was then escorted out of the kingdom to become an exile, a Gungan without
a home, a country, or a hope. He sustained himself by tripping over things
in the forest and then eating them. His life of hermit-like solitude made him
become celibate and regret his earlier gigolo-esque days…
Later in Episode I Jar-Jar was adamantly against wandering around Mos Espa
- not because he might get “robba-ed and crunched!’ but for fear
of running into Shmi and being forced to cough up child support. When he did
run across her in Anakin’s home he remained silent as did she, a kind
of silent pact of acceptance. Though when he started grabbing apples Shmi couldn’t
help but think back to all the wonderful memories of that tongue… Alas,
she decided not to tell Jar-Jar that he was really the father of her son, who
would one day become [SPOILER ALERT!] Darth Vader!
Count Dooku
Occupation: Starts trouble, aligns himself with Dark Lords, commands
thousands of Orcs/robots with a wave of his hand.
Parental Likelyhood: 30%
“I have a problem, Darth Sidious my Master” Count Dooku confessed
one night in the Sith bordello he and other evil Jedi often visited.
“What is it, my young apprentice?” croaked Sidious, who was really
[SPOILER ALERT] Senator Palpatine but with a hood over his eyes so no one (but
the audience) could tell.
“It is in the sack. Using my Jedi Mind tricks (and charisma) I have
no trouble getting the ladies home, but once there… Ug. It just falls
apart.”
“I understand my evil Padawan learner. The Dark Side has many advantages,
but also many side effects - including nausea, headache and impotence. You
should have asked your doctor first.” Sidious snarled in an ambiguous
manner.
“Guide me, oh master.”
“There is a young slave by the name of Shmi Skywalker who works
in this very bordello. She would make an excellent host for a new evil Jedi.”
“Why don’t you sire the child yourself, oh not-so-mysterious one?”
“I have often tried. However, when I lower my hood I also become quite
ugly, so even with my mind control she always just throws a drink in my face.” Sidious
admitted, a look of despair over the visible part of his face. “I therefore
pass the task onto you.”
“But… what about my problem?” Dooku stammered hopelessly.
“Get her into the bedroom my young apprentice; I will help you from
there.” Sidious said, an evil grin smearing over his face.
Later that night Dooku led the young slave Shmi under a red light, through
a doorway and into a smelly room consisting of a bed, B&W TV and an old 70’s
style VCR. One thing led to another and then it was time to go for it.
Dooku however wasn’t up for the task. Literally. Shmi grew impatient
and checked her watch - Dooku’s 30 minutes were almost up and she was
booked solid for the rest of the night. Suddenly a voice boomed through the
darkness… It was Darth Sidious!
“Lord Dooku?” he asked.
Dooku was a bit taken aback, and then realized who it was. “Yes master?”
“RIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSEEEEEE!!!!!!”
The rest of Dooku and Shmi’s time went as planned and Sidious watched
on, cackling evilly. A few months later Shmi was a girl in trouble and the
bordello sold her to a certain blue junkyard owner on Tatooine. Later on she
bore a young, innocent son named Anakin, who would one day become [SPOILER
ALERT] Darth Vader!
EPILOGUE
So there you have it. All the possible fathers for Anakin to kill. Granted
some are more likely than others but come next month, upon the release of Episode
III, we’ll see which one of these really turns out to be… ANAKIN’S
FATHER!
