Darth Maul - Clinical Study
By Maya, the Mad Mambolica and (introducing) Darth Megativity!!
rushmambo@hotmail.com and meggieburger@mindspring.com
[Read Maya's author bio]

While George (The Man) Lucas owns the rights to the boys, I own the soul of my Shrink. One day I shall reveal myself to her and have my revenge. It will be sweet. Until then, I shall lock myself in my bedroom (honing my hatred) and continue to play with my action figures, because, damnit, there ain't nuttin' wrong with that.

Lord Sidious stood outside of his apprentice's apartment. He didn't knock, he just opened the door, ready to burst in on Maul, who was more than likely sitting half naked on the couch playing Jedi Roadkill V.

"MAUL!" the evil Sidious hollered. Then he stopped and stared.

There was a dark haze in Maul's sitting room. It wasn't the normal pizza-induced gas that permeated the Sith's apartment, nor the sporous cloud rising from old laundry. Sidious shivered as he felt the ailing life Force within the room. It emanated from his apprentice. Darth Maul was indeed half naked on the couch, but the TV was off, the game controllers lying on the floor under My Apprentice who was washing her inner thigh. A thin layer of cat fur had settled over the tattooed figure. He lay on his stomach, one foot on the floor, the other buried under a cushion. He looked up at his master through slitted eyes.

"Maul?" asked Sidious.

"Mempf Mapfsherf?" responded Maul, his mouth planted in the couch.

"Are you alright?"

Maul sighed.

"Answer me, apprentice."

"Leave me alone. I don't want to talk." Maul listlessly rolled over on the couch, turning his back to his master, burying his head in the crease between cushions. My Apprentice looked up from her thigh, legs splayed in the air before her, and seemed for the first time to notice Maul's odd behavior.

Sidious grimaced with worry (which looked much the same as his grimace of joy, or anger). He turned, robes flapping at his side, and left. My Apprentice jumped up onto the couch and walked across the still form of Maul. The Sith did not move. The Feline Mind Whammy connected with a dark wall of resistance. My Apprentice climbed down into the narrow space between the back of the couch and Maul's stomach. Maul wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. My Apprentice was now deeply concerned.


"Go away." Maul pulled a pillow over his head. He was shaking. CRYING?! This was bad. Sith did not get depressed.

"I'm taking you to see a specialist. Maul?" No answer. "It's a psychiatrist." Maul moaned something into the cushion. "Doesn't that make you angry, Maul? Doesn't that make you want to strike me down?" asked his master.

"No. Nothing matters. Go away and let me die in peace." Very bad, indeed.


"Mr. Maul, Dr. Tucker will see you now."

"Now remember, Maul, the only way the doctor can help you is if you talk. You will talk." Sidious said waving his fingers gently in the air. Maul gazed at his master through heavy lids.

"I'll do my best, Master," he said as he trudged into the office.

A woman wearing a dark blue suit with shoulder length mouse-brown hair was sitting in an armchair. She gestured to another chair. Maul sat obediently.

"Now," she said, quickly glancing at the clip board she held in her hands, "Maul. What seems to be the problem." Her face was completely empty. If it wasn't for the fact that she was breathing, Maul would have assumed she was a droid.

He stared her down, in a manner, which at any other time would have appeared menacing, but now barely looked sceptical. "I'm unhappy."

"Describe what you mean by 'unhappy'." She held a pen poised above the clipboard.

"I am a Sith Lord. I take joy in tormenting people. I enjoy inflicting pain." The shrink started to scribble. "Recently I find I cannot bring myself to do anything."

"By 'anything' you mean inflicting pain?"

"No. I mean anything. I peed myself twice yesterday just because I didn't feel like getting up."


Sidious had told Maul that psychiatrists were supposed to make you angry. It was part of the therapy. It seemed a bit odd to the Sith, but he viewed anger as a good thing so he continued to see the doctor weekly.

"Hello Maul." Dr. Tucker was wearing a beige dress suit. Maul noticed that she had thick calves. He plunked down in the opposing seat.

"And how are you today?" The doctor emphasised the last word, apparently attempting to give greater meaning to the question. Maul found it irritating.


"Well then, why don't we talk about your childhood." She crossed her legs and carefully adjusted her skirt, tugging it down lower. How was this lady supposed to help him? She probably lived vicariously through her patients' lives.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me about your parents."

"They were Tauntauns." The doctor scribbled something. The Sith continued. "Uh, I was sort of picked up by Senator Palpatine from the orphanage. He made me his apprentice."

"Apprentice?" Scribble, scribble.

"Ya. I'm his apprentice Sith Lord."


"Oh, no, that's nothing!" laughed Wanitta Tucker as she sat with fellow doctors in a pub. "I've got one who thinks he's a Sith Lord. Says he's depressed and doesn't feel like killing people anymore." She knocked back her vodka drink. "What a crazy notion. He thinks that Senator Palpatine -"

"That one from Naboo?" interjected a colleague.

"Ya, that's the one. He thinks Palpatine's his Master!" The doctors cracked up, one spraying his beer across the table.

"Wow, that is crazy!"

"Ya I know, " she quipped. "I'm sending him up for a Rorschach"

The pub erupted in laughter.


The secretary at the front desk looked up from her computer screen to see Maul scratching his horns as he read something from a bit of paper in his hand.

"Can I help you sir?" she whined in a nasal voice. So that tone is not only reserved for the intercom, Maul made a mental note as he approached the desk. She would be a fine instrument with which to hone his rage.

"I'm here for the Horshack test"

Then the most horrific sound emanated from the receptionist, as her body was racked with convulsions. Maul was half hoping it was a seizure. Only after she looked up, had he realised she was laughing at him.

"It's RORSCHACH, not Horshack!" she exclaimed as she wiped the tears away from her eyes. Maul could feel the heat rising in his face, but before he had time to reach for his lightsaber, she pointed him to the door behind her and said, "Dr. Jinn is waiting for you. '

As Maul plotted his revenge, he could have sworn he heard her saying, "oooh ooooh, Mistah Kottah, Mistah Kottah!"


"Have a seat Mr. Maul," a familiar voice rang out behind him. It couldn't possibly be, Maul thought. His eyes scanned the room. It was just as he'd suspected. The long gray hairs shed on the back of the chair, the earthy decor, the pictures of his twit neighbor littering the desk. Maul felt a sharp pain in his chest. Sidious was going to pay for this, and pay dearly.

Maul settled uneasily in his chair, as he felt the presence of Qui-Gon Jinn lurking behind him.

"I'm going to take a seat behind you, Mr. Maul , and show you a series of illustrations, one at a time. What I need for you to do is tell me what you see as you look at each one."

"Fine," Maul muttered. It could be worse, thought Maul, the padawan could be here.

Maul snatched the first plate from Qui-Gon and looked at it.

"It's Yoda" Maul snapped and tossed the inkblot over his shoulder.

"Is that all you see, Mr. Maul?" Qui-Gon inquired "Are you sure there isn't something else there?"

"Nope, it's Yoda alright, and if you ask me, after one too many Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters." Maul offered, "Next!" This is going to be a breeze, Maul thought.

Maul looked at the second card, and this time, did a double take.

"Well what do you know, this one looks like a certain Jedi Master and that zany Senator we all know and love, playing patty-cake." Maul quipped, attempting to stifle a giggle.

"Very well then," Qui-Gon cleared his throat, "Why don't you move on to the next image"

Maul reluctantly gave the card back to Qui-Gon, for a brief moment he considered it's worth for blackmail purposes.

He looked at the next plate and handed it directly back to Qui-Gon.

" Maul?" the Jedi asked, "What do you see?"

"I, I can't say," Maul stammered. Is this someone's idea of a sick joke? How many people knew about his "thing" with Obi Wan?

"I must insist, Mister Maul, that you answer the question."

Maul felt this was a good time to test his Sith Mind Whammying abilities, being that he'd never actually tried it, with the subject behind him. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he insisted that he should not give a response to this particular inkblot.

"Maul, you do not have to give a response to this particular inkblot," Qui-Gon replied almost absently. Before the Sith could breathe a sigh of relief, he added sarcastically "Judging from your reaction, I already know what your answer would be."

Maul could feel the blood flowing away from his brain. "Rat bastard," he mumbled under his breath.

He'd had enough. "Enough!" Maul said as he stood up, and bolted for the door, tripping over Qui-Gon's gangly long legs and sending the inkblot plates flying. He got up quickly and started out the door.

"But Maul, you consented to the test, the results will be inconclusive," the Jedi protested.

"I don't give a fuck!" and the door slammed behind him.

The receptionist called after him, "Mister Boom Boom Washington, the doctor is not through with you, yet."

Maul could hear the cackling behind him. This one will not go unavenged, he promised aloud to no one but himself, as he stormed off toward Dr. Tucker's office for his regularly scheduled appointment.


"So last time we stopped at your Bar Mitzvah. You said you hated your adopted family." Dr. Tucker started in right away, appearing completely uninterested.

"Well, sort of. I got drunk for the first time at my Bar Mitzvah. It was accidental though. Just sort of happened." Maul was picking at a hole in his "Sith Lords Kick Ass" tee shirt. Oddly he had calmed down considerably since his appointment with the Jedi scum, Qui-Gon.

"Tell me about it."

"It was just, well, I always seem to do these dumb things when I'm drunk." Maul recalled the incident.


He had a chicken finger shoved up a nostril. His yarmulke was skewered on a horn to keep it from falling off again. He was sitting with his bestestfriendinthewholeworld, Joey Mendelwitz who also had a chicken finger up his nose, at the head table. The Senator's sister Miriam, a garish woman of impressive proportions was coming toward him. He couldn't focus; it looked like there were three of her. He couldn't run, there was a 30-second time lapse from thought to movement. Her ringed fingers were reaching for his face. He was desperate to escape. He couldn't stop focusing on her mammoth cleavage, which leaned across the table like a gigantic yawning abyss. Auntie Miriam was pinching his cheek, "Shayna punum, doll-face, come and dance with Auntie Miriam." Maul was cringing, he felt funny. Cleavage. Those red lips. Joey groaned, sliding out of his chair and under the table. "You'll make your Auntie so proud with a dance. So handsome, you are, such a mench." The chicken finger fell from Maul's nostril. Cleavage - giant, suctioning cleavage. The pungent smell of flowery perfume. The Manechevitz wine churning, Maul felt a wave of queasiness. Cleavage.


Maul giggled despite the embarrassment as he remembered Auntie Miriam's expression as the large quantity of undigested wine and chicken fingers splashed her chest and ran down her bodice. Dr. Tucker didn't seem to see the humor in it at all. In fact, she barely seemed to be listening. What is wrong with this woman? Maul was deeply annoyed. He was spilling his guts to this woman, and paying to do it. She could at least pretend to care. He could feel his wrath building.

"I see. So you find your dislike of your family amusing." She didn't look at him. Maul made a face at her. "Do you enjoy being an only child?"

"Yes." Maul tried to give the shrink a threatening look.

"Are you still friends with Joey?"

"No. He was sent to Alderaan to live with his father because apparently I was a 'bad influence' on him."

"Do you believe your hostility comes from being alone?"

"No. I chose not to have friends."

"I see. Are you sure that it wasn't because you were isolated for being different?"

Maul started to get uncomfortable. He checked his Mickey Mouse watch (his only souvenir from the Magic Kingdom). There was still another twenty minutes left.

"A Sith does not need friends. Besides, I enjoyed playing by myself. I had far cooler friends in my head."

"Imaginary friends?" The pen was scratching over the paper again. Maul was quiet for a moment. What was wrong with imaginary friends? Every kid had them. Didn't they?

"Yes. My friends were much more fun than real live ones."

"Did you think they were real?"

"Sure, I guess. All kids think their imaginary friends are real to some extent." Come on clock, thought Maul as he desperately tried to speed it up with the Force.

"So, Maul," her voice was flat and uncaring, "would you say you have a vivid imagination?"

Maul saw himself smacking the doctor's head into a wall. He saw her in a room full of starving ewoks as they bit into her meaty legs. Now he was leaping at her, igniting his saber and slashing her into tiny little pieces even before she could look up from her goddamn clipboard!


"And how is your social life now, Maul?" She was peering over her reading glasses at him.

"Fine." He crossed his arms over his chest and dared her to question him further.

"Do you have a lot of friends?" DAMN HER!

"Yes." So what if he was counting his master and his cat? So what if he included Obi-Wan and his bloody hamsters. She didn't know that.

"I think you're holding back the truth, Maul. I cannot help you if you don't tell me the truth. This is all about honesty." Her expression was disappointed. Could she read his mind?! She didn't even care about him, but somehow she was making Maul feel guilty.

"Sith do not need friends."

"I think you're hiding behind this 'Sith' idea in order to excuse your inability to form meaningful bonds with others. What do you think?" She almost seemed to smirk as she said it.

"I think that if you were smart you wouldn't question me. You fail to see the Dark Side and it will be your undoing." How can this be good for me? It was a waste of time. Sidious be damned, he wasn't about to suffer through this idiocy.

"How do you spend your time, Maul?" asked the woman. Maul thought about not answering. But that seemed futile. Since I'm here anyway...

"I play video games. I surf the Net. Why, what do you do in your spare time?" His voice dripped sarcasm as he envisioned her reading a Harlequin romance novel. Oh, if only he knew.

Dr. Tucker smiled coldly. "We're not here to discuss me, are we?" Bitch, thought Maul. She grinned. Could she read minds? She continued. "Do imagine yourself into the game?"

"Well, I get into it, sure. It helps me hone my hatred."

"Of course. And the characters, do you interact with them?"

Maul shrugged. "Sure, if the game gets exciting. Besides, Darth Lara Croft is the best damn female out there. She kicks ass."

Dr. Tucker started to scribble again. Suddenly she seemed interested.

"You talk to this 'Darth Lara Croft' do you?"

"She's out there somewhere. I will find her and make her mine. She will be my apprentice once I've struck down my Master." Maul was nodding, a powerful mental image forming in his head. Oh yeah, baby.

"I see. But Darth Lara Croft is a video game character, isn't she."

"Ya." Maul's eyes had a far away look to them.

"She isn't real. She's imaginary, isn't she Maul?"

"Well, uh," suddenly he felt cornered. "Of course she is."

That cold, unfeeling woman sitting across from him was trying to suggest that he - Darth Maul - had imaginary friends. What the? - Did she think he was crazy? The anger coursed through him.

Maul leapt to his feet. "You sit there and pretend that you give a crap and I'm supposed to tell you my inner feelings? What do you care about me? You just want my money!"

"Is that how you feel, Maul?" asked the shrink calmly. "Why don't you sit down and continue. This is good. You're finally expressing yourself. Let's ride this train and see where it takes us."

Maul was exasperated. Train?

"Train? I'm a TRAIN? I'm a living, breathing bringer of terror and death, and you call me a TRAIN?!"

"I sense a great deal of anger in you. Why don't you tell me about it."

"I'm supposed to be angry. I'm a Sith! You keep focusing on all the wrong things! I feel like killing myself and all you care about is whether I've got imaginary friends?! What is wrong with you? Maybe YOU need a shrink. I think I'm just fine." Maul collapsed back into his seat, he had to get a grip on himself before striking her down.

A bell went off. "Well Maul, your 50 minutes are over. I think we're finally coming to understand your hostility. I'll see you next week."

"You're just going to cut me off?!" Maul was enraged.

"Yes. Your hour is up." She slid her notes into a file folder and locked them in her desk before leaving. Maul gaped after her. He couldn't believe it. Finally he felt like telling her what he thought and just like that she cut him off. She would pay. Oh yes. He would have revenge.


Wanitta stood in front of her full length mirror. She admired herself. She looked good in leather, there was no doubt about it. She adjusted her bustier and fastened her bull whip to her belt. She slid her legs into a pair of thigh high boots. Downing a large Scotch, she strode out into the foyer and met her first client of the evening "session".

"Bad, have I been, Mistress, hmmm?"


Maul was actually looking forward to his visit with Dr. Tucker. He'd rather enjoyed the previous session's outburst. Maybe Sidious was right. Maybe getting annoyed was part of the healing process.

"Why don't we focus on your present life, Maul."

"Okay." Maybe he could get a rise out of her by telling her about some of the things he'd done. Maybe he could disturb her by going into graphic detail about his gory fantasies. Oh yeah, definitely.

"Are you sexually active?"

"WHAT?!" Nonononononono, this was not the route he wanted to be taking.

"Have you had sexual encounters, other than say, the ones concerning Darth Lara?"

The Sith desperately needed to redirect the topic. The last thing he wanted was for any of the Obi-Wan stuff to come out. He'd noticed an envelope sitting on her desk from Dr. Jinn. He glared at it now, hoping she hadn't had the chance to examine it's contents.

"Sure," he began, "There's this chick Darth Mary Sue-"

"Another video game character?"

"No, she's real. I mean she's REAL, if you get my meaning." Maul outlined some rather exaggerated curves in the air. "Anyway, this chick is hot. She can't get enough of me."

Dr. Tucker smiled patronisingly at Maul's attempt at macho bravado. She'd met his type before. Half of them came to her evening appointments. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Well, ya - er, no, I just sleep with her, you know what I'm saying?"

"I see."

"Once in a while I just say to myself 'I could use a little of her action,' ya know?" He nodded smugly at the doctor. I'm hot shit, he thought to himself, unconvincingly. Aren't I?

"Surely, you'd like to see her more than every once in a while."

"Sith don't give in to their baser urges very often. It makes us weak." He bared his foul teeth as he tried to avoid the flashes of Obi-Wan in compromising positions passing through his mind.

"Of course. Do you like girls, Maul? So far, you've spoken of a fantasy woman, and only one real woman whom you rarely see. Do you think of men?"

Maul shuddered. He was thinking of them now. One in particular, actually. Damn. He refocused his thoughts. He tried to clear his mind. How did she know? How on earth could she know? He eyed the envelope again. Oh God. It was open.

"Maul?" She sat casually, with her pen tapping her clipboard lightly.

"Uh, well, once in a while I, uh, wonder."

"Curiosity is normal. Healthy, too, Maul."

"Uh, well, there is this one guy. I don't know. He just, well," Maul breathed deeply. This was horrible. Somehow this dumpy woman was able to get him to say anything. She was going to have to die a horrible death. She would take his secrets to the grave. "First I'd have to be drunk, but well, sometimes, er, recently, uh, I did it sober." He looked pained. "Well, more often than not, really."

"It's happened more than once?"


"Did you enjoy it?"

"I hate him! He's my nemesis. He's a JEDI! It's horrible!" His face flushed and burned as he spoke. "I fucking LOVE it." Maul couldn't believe how he kept spilling his guts. He hated this woman more than any other woman he'd ever met. She was almost as bad as Sidious.

"And naturally, Sith do not sleep with Jedi, right?"

"I can't stop myself. Mostly I want to kill him, but then there's that little bit of time when I wanna - I hate it! I can't bear it!"

"Why don't you just enjoy it and see where it takes you?"

"Is this another train metaphor?" asked Maul, his face the dictionary illustration for contempt.

"Why can't you accept your feelings?"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" That was it. Maul had had enough of this woman getting into his head and unravelling his innermost thoughts. How could this unemotional, prudish bitch have any idea what went on in the mind of a Sith! She probably had been raised in a happy family with a brother, both parents and a dog! She'd never suckled a Tauntaun! She probably didn't even have sex! She had no idea how angry he was!

"Time to break out the Stoopid Stick, baby, and take a ride on the Maul's Express TRAIN TO HELL!"

Maul activated his lightsaber, eyes glowing with deprived rage. He twirled it twice (for effect) before smashing her desk sending her file folders flying. She made for the door but one well placed swipe melted the locking mechanism. She ducked as the blade swooshed and tried to catch him with a paperweight.

"SO WHAT IF I'M LONELY?!" He swung for her, missing and obliterating her chair. "SO WHAT IF I'M HOSTILE?!" He took out a filing cabinet and destroyed the degrees on her wall.

"MY IMAGINARY FRIENDS AND I DON'T LIKE YOU!" The venetian blind crashed to the floor tripping the doctor and sending her sprawling. . "AND YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE? I LIKE BOYS! HAPPY NOW?!" She tried to work a canister of mace but Maul kicked it from her hand. The papers on the doctor's desk were atomised completely, including Dr. Jinn's envelope of doom.

"I'M A SITH LORD WHO JUST HAPPENS TO HAVE FEELINGS OF ABANDONMENT!" It was a moment of blind, soul-possessing fury, his hatred for the Dr. Tucker was complete.

Two minutes later the door exploded and Maul casually strolled out into the waiting room. Darth Sidious was waiting for him.

"A good session, apprentice?" He was smiling evilly.

"Yes. I am my old self again, Master."

"Good. What is that in your hand, Maul?"

The young Sith smiled demonically as he slipped a file marked "KENOBI, O." beneath his robe. "Nothing, my master."

The next day, Maul was greeted by his favorite sound as he awoke, "NooooOOOOOooooo!" Only this time in unison. Maul raced to the door in time to see the men in white toting the poor, troubled Padawan away, once again, and Qui-Gon standing in the doorway, in his skivvies, looking forlorn.

"The Doctor is in," Maul sneered.



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