Well, actually it isn’t so good. In fact, it’s downright awful. I can’t talk long either. As you can see, I’m in prison. Now you may ask yourself, is it because I lead the separatist movement against senate? Is it because I am a Sith lord? Oh no. None of those things. It seems some one dispatched the local authorities on Qui-Gon and myself for possession of spiced brownies without a permit…or at least one that was readily available. It seems Master J.J. has the permit but he’s locked up in the Big Brother house. Or so I am lead to believe. It’s all rather confusing to me, actually.
Now I am stuck here, incarcerated with my old padawan, and forced to eat what barely passes for edible food while spending day after mindless day locked in a room that somehow is also my toilet. Uh…how revolting.
But I decided to try and make the best of it. While Qui-gon is trying to procure an attorney, I thought I would try to sell my story to the local papers. Unfortunately, by the looks of the first installment, it does seem like they some what missed the mark a bit.
I mean really. All that is is just scandalous journalistic fluff. They’ve totally revamped my story to make it look all tawdry.
Well, I’m being told by the guard that I have to hang up now. Hopefully by next week I’ll be out of this horrific place.