One customer is staring at the merchandise the Jawas have presented him and he's scratching his head and is about to say something sarcastic when another customer, whom in the interests of transparency we will confirm does not know the first customer already, recognizes what was about to happen and interjects this instead:
"We all know they rip us off. Their best stuff is always kept for the Hutts. That's just the way it is."
"I figured that," the first customer says.
"I'm just saying what we all know," the second customer says. "Because sometimes it can be easy to forget. Hey, want to know a secret?"
"Sure," the first customer says.
"This is the sixth day I've come to see their inventory. I don't even need anything. I'm keeping tabs. They keep marching out the same droids. I've been curious. They don't seem to actually sell anything. It's something you can easily overlook. They haven't even bothered pretending that they're doing anything else. They just don't care. This makes me think."
"I'm confused," the first customer says.
"It's all a scam. A front. They're secretly working for the Rebellion. All the way here on Tatooine? Yeah. Apparently. See that droid over there? It's a decoy. They've pulled the same trick all six days. It looks nice, right? The others look bedraggled, hardly suited to the the needs they're being trotted out to fulfill. So someone says they want it. Then it malfunctions as soon as it starts rolling away. I've been waiting to see if someone finally walks away with one. I've had my eye on the blue unit. It looks deceptively conspicuous. It's the carbon scoring that seems to scare everyone off. Ridiculous, right? But there it is."
The first customer at this point is noticeably backing away from the second one.
"I think they're waiting for some deluded protocol droid to sell the blue unit for them," the second customer continues undaunted. "Those units are always having their memories erased. They can be convinced of anything. Two or three mindwipes and they begin constructing their own histories. Clinical mechanics, I guess. But the way I see it, they're also the perfect units to unwittingly stumble upon the truth. One of the great galactic flaws of serendipity. Got to love it. Hey, ever seen a Bothan? They don't exist. Just another name for Jawas..."
On the seventh day, the blue unit is sold, by the way. Bet you can guess who got it.