Darth Narwhal, sometimes known as Teh Jedi of teh sea wasn't a Sith Mega-Super-Overlord, like some. Nor did he have the power to bake. Instead, Darth Narwhal was a Narwhal (more specifically the Jedi of the sea!), a breed more cruel than anything seen before in the galaxy, so cruel they would play their insistent bullshit all night long. Darth Narwhal utilized his own branch of "the ultimate act of treachery" by turning against his own Master, Obi Whal Kenobi, for the superior strength of Darth Narwhalpatine, who had the offer of Omega-three fish oil that Darth Narwhal just couldn't turn down. (Hell, could you?) His stupid grin and idiotic dance provided the perfect backdrop for his l33t stealth attack, which involved jabbing his uberl33t horn into the balls of anyone stupid enough to get in the way. Darth Narwhal spurned the idea of destroying planets, an idiot act that would eventually see his downfall at the hands of global warming.
Darth Narwhal did not have a mental issue. Nor did he have some sort of registered problem; it would have been better for him if he did. No. Darth Narwhal was just a complete idiot. From a young age, Darth Narwhal had a wish to write poetry. Darth Narwhal was a sensitive soul; he once almost cried after beating the shit out of another Narwhal! Darth Narwhal's poetry, however, was later to discovered to have been a weapon of mass destruction, which is probably why none of the others who he read to were able to give testimony to his abilities. The young Narwhal was trained, at first, in his sea school by the great knowledge pit that is G*nkObi-Whal Kenobi. However, Kenobi was a crotchety ol' bastard and after he refused Darth Narwhal's offer of Omega-3 fish oil at a discount price (freshly squeezed from Darth Narwhal's own rear end, nonetheless!) poor Darth Narwhal gave in to his anger problems and BiPolar bear disorder to ram Obi-Whal Kenobi into an iceberg composed solely of blue milk!
"Every fight is a food fight when you’re a cannibal."
―Darth Narwhalpatine's ceaseless complaints
In the wet, watery and admittedly pointless world of Manaan, Darth Narwhal had little more to do than work towards acquiring more Blue Milk for his icebergs. Darth Narwhal, however, had little to offer in return for the blue milk he insisted on asking for from those who sold it, so he had a bit of a problem. At first, he offered shavings of his horn and toenails in trade for the milk that just kept him going. Some people, however, when visiting Manaan, considered horn shavings to be too disgusting an idea, and requested sexual favors instead. Darth Narwhal didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. This made him angry and mad. This mad him angrily mad. This made him so angry and mad that he wanted to punch that bald bastard right the way back to Coruscant. And so he did.
Darth Narwhal punched him all the way back to Coruscant.
In his rage, Mace Windu appeared to be another Narwhal to Darth Narwhal. This was lucky, because Darth Narwhal had two pet hates. He vehemently hated racists and black men, and so it's lucky that he didn't see Windu and realize that he too was included in the parameters of his pet hates. After seeing this fine display of punching a Jedi (and a bald Jedi at that) Darth Narwhalpatine offered Darth Narwhal a quantity of Omega-3 fish oil in order to become his apprentice. Darth Narwhal, skeptical at first of this "Omega-3" which dared to challenge the traditional blue milk, tried a bit. Then a bit more. Then a bit more. Then a whole damn tankard.
And he loved it.
He was so high that, for the rest of his life, he saw everyone else as a creature from the sea. He saw Darth Narwhalpatine as a Narwhal, Mace Windu as a Narwhal, his cousin's sister's mother's brother's antelope's dog as a Narwhal... The effects were ten times more hallucinatory than with blue milk. And so he trained under Darth Narwhalpatine.
Darth Narwhalpatine: "What's the best way to catch a fish, eh? Eh?"
Darth Narwhal: "...have someone throw it at you?"
— Darth Narwhal's infallible logic.
Darth Narwhal didn't do so well in his Sith training. Most of the time, he was utterly stoned from taking way too much Omega-3 oil than was really humanely possible, legal, fair, healthy, useful, kind, or anything else beneficial. Most of the time he'd be seen bouncing up and down on icebergs, punching a few whales. This was Manaan, where nothing happens. Darth Narwhal, however, had that natural intuitive ability that comes only to such special Narwhals as he. Therefore, after Darth Narwhalpatine got bored and went off for a booze in Ahto City, Darth Narwhal built up his force powers. This got to the point where, when Darth Narwhalpatine tried to kill him by crashing an old ship called the Ebon Cod into the iceberg Darth Narwhal was sleeping on, he was able to use an intuitive form of destroy your planet to destroy the boat and raid the Omega-3 stores on board.
He never saw Darth Narwhalpatine again.
Darth Narwhal wanted to see more of the galaxy. He was a friendly soul. He enjoyed painting pictures, swimming, and long walks on the beach. Oh, and punching people. And goring them. And spiking, spearing, gutting, crushing and poking them. He was a nice guy, as you can see, and I mean that entirely seriously. But Anakin Skywalker discovered him as he left the planet. All Darth Narwhal wanted was a vacation, maybe take in a few sites, kill a few Jedi. Nothing too strenuous. Skywalker, however, had different ideas. Darth Narwhal took on young Skywalker and, using his horn, fended him off for just enough time to escape and flee to a nearby planet. Endor, the home of those damn annoying furry things. Skywalker had met Ewoks before, and had no intention of freeing Darth Narwhal from suffering at their furry hands of annoying-ness. Therefore he left him, a punishment far worse for Darth Narwhal than death.
"Me and my horn, we got issues. I don't know if I should gore you or spit you..."
―Unemployment; the bane of the Narwhal.
It was all going so well for Darth Narwhal. Life was good (ish), he had Sith-itude powers enough to rule those furry little bears, and the Empire ignored him. He was close to having the sort of power needed to control and crush the galaxy. But then, as invariably happens with all evil villains in Star Wars, due to George Lucas' goddamned sense of justice, Darth Narwhal made a crippling mistake. But Darth Narwhal's mistake was far bigger than anything Lucas, Chee, Obi Whal Kenobi or Darth Narwhalpatine could have done to him. Darth Narwhal shot himself in the flipper, by spurning the power of destroy your planet. He turned it down. Rejected it. Spat in its face. Now, this isn't smart. It's not clever, it didn't make him look cool, brave, strong, tough or powerful. It just shows us what an idiot he was and that he must have smuggled some Omega-3 to Endor in order to get stoned enough to make such a stupid move as that.
So, what happened to Darth Narwhal then?
He exploded. In a display of exploding blubber, fins, fish, meat and bones, he blew apart at the seams. He was torn apart by the Force for his heretical ways. All that was left afterward was a small, weedy little Narwhal who could do very little. Darth Narwhal couldn't control his Ewoks any more. Instead, he was forced to turn to making a Kebab shop, to sell Kebabs to the little Ewoks. This, of course, made them go hyper and do all sorts of strange things, but Darth Narwhal never seemed to mind. He died of a heart attack after eating a consecutive five thousand kebabs as part of a bet with a man from Corellia who offered him a passage off-world if he won.