Sunday Star Wars Theater

My nephew Xander, just about to turn 4, loves Star Wars and loves my Star Wars dolls -- Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Maul.

Qui-Gon gets relegated to a cheerleading role much of the time, offering advice and back-up to Obi-Wan before inevitably falling to his doom. Maul is generally thrust into my hands along with orders to "Fight me! Fight me!" as Xander whirls Obi-Wan around.

Sunday came the moment of truth -- the ultimate confrontation between Dark and Light. I was directed to hold Maul still as Xander brought Obi-Wan over. They perched on the arm of the couch and Xander started the conversation:

Obi-Wan: We need to talk.
Maul: ....
Obi-Wan: Qui-Gon is dead. We need to talk about it.
Maul: ....
Obi-Wan: You don't need to kill anybody else.
Maul: ....
Obi-Wan: You can be good now.
Maul: ....
Obi-Wan: Qui-Gon is dead. We don't need him.
Maul: ....
Auntie Vyola: ::is dead from giggles::