The Way To Hell
subtitled, "You've Got Maul!"
by James ICan'tBelieveI'mDoingThis Walkswithwind
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Maul was sitting hunched over the screen when his Master found him.

"Maul! Have you been here all night?" the Sith Lord frowned.

Startled, Maul looked up. "Master! Oh, uh yes... but I have not been playing Xena MiniPai this time!" he explained quickly. His Master waited, and Maul went on. "I have been putting AOHell's buddy lists to good -- er, bad use and today Obi-Wan will wish he had never become a student at the Jedi Academy!"

"Very well," Sidious nodded in approval. "As long as he suffers I will overlook the ten extra hours you have logged on this month. But now you must come. It is time for your training."

Maul shut his computer down and followed his Master.


An hour later across the galaxy, young Obi-Wan sat staring woefully at his computer. He was working as fast as he could, but he knew there was no hope. He would never get to his training session on time today -- he would miss the morning's classes entirely. Qui-Gon would not be pleased, but there was no helping it. Groaning as the screen flashed again, he worked even harder, hoping he could at least get this done without his Master finding out.


Startled, the padawan looked over his shoulder. His Master was standing there, frowning at him. "Qui-Gon! I was--"

"You haven't been up all night again, have you? I've warned you about those archives. They're seductive, they'll pull you in--"

"Oh, no, Master!" Obi-Wan objected. "I have only been on since before breakfast."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Very well. But it is time for your training. Leave that--"

"I can't, Master."

"What?" Qui-Gon looked at him in surprise.

Ruefully Obi-Wan began to explain. "Somehow -- I swear I don't know how, I didn't do anything -- I seem to have... that is...."

"Spit it out, Obi-Wan. What has happened?"

"I've been getting spammed all morning. I'm trying to delete the messages and unsubscribe my address from the lists but it just keeps coming!" Obi-Wan wailed. "If I leave for training my mailbox will fill up and I'll miss Master Yoda's daily newsletters because everything will start bouncing and I'll get unsubscribed from my Whoosh! list!"

And somewhere, from far, far away, a dark and evil laugh was heard. It was probably an accountant eating a bagel over the morning comics but it's the sound that counts, not who makes it when your special effects department is on a budget.



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