Life Lessons at the Sith Academy, Part IV
[Read Siubhan's author bio]
This isn't my funniest work, but I'm going to make you suffer through it anyway.
"Now that you've come to a suitable arrangement with your pet...," Darth Sidious began, then stared in disbelief at his apprentice and asked, "What on Coruscant are you wearing?"
Darth Maul looked down at his body, shrugged, and said, "A robe, my Master."
"That would be from cat hair, my Master."
"Maul, when did you last do laundry?"
"It has been quite some time, my Master. However, I did just buy a lint roller that's supposed to help get cat hair off of fabric."
"You need more than a lint roller, my young apprentice. Your robes seem awfully stiff. Perhaps you should wash them."
"My Master, I'm sure I can get another week or two out of them."
"When was the last time you wore clean underwear?"
Maul paused, lost in thought. "I cannot remember."
"Are you wearing dirty underwear right now?"
"I'm not wearing any underwear, my Master."
"That's it. Maul, you need to go to the laundromat."
Maul's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Not the laundromat, Master. Anything but the laundromat."
"A true Sith can face anything."
"But there are hordes of screaming children there, and muzak."
"Yes, I will admit, those are both quite trying, but I'm sure you'll manage. It'll give you another opportunity to hone your hatred."
"Can't I just go to Disneyland and ride the 'Small World' ride for twelve hours instead? Surely that will be a more efficient way to hone my hatred."
"No, you've put off doing your laundry long enough."
"Perhaps I can whore myself at a biker bar to make enough money to buy a washer and dryer, my Master."
"Stop talking like a Jedi. Just bundle your things up and go to the laundromat."
"Surely I can wait one more day. Or I could simply go naked."
"No, my apprentice. You will do your laundry and you will do it today."
Maul bowed his head in defeat. "Yes, my Master."
An hour later, Maul strode into the laundromat in his stinky "Sithlords Kick Ass" shirt. It was the least smelly thing left in his apartment. His black jeans, on the other hand, were fighting him every step of the way. They hadn't been washed in so long that they were on the verge of achieving sentience. With a scowl, he surveyed the premises. There were at least twelve screaming children racing up and down the aisles, that twit Obi-Wan sitting in the corner reading The Ladies Home Journal, and off in the corner, Yoda was folding a pile of frilly women's underwear and putting it into his basket.
Maul gritted his teeth and waded through the throng of children, kicking any that got too close to him, and found one empty washing machine. Just one. He looked around the laundromat--Yoda had left. It was just him, Obi-Wan, and the gang of screaming children. "Who the hell is using all these washing machines?" he muttered under his breath.
Obi-Wan looked up and said, "Oh, sorry. I am."
"You can't possibly have enough clothes to fill them all," Maul challenged.
"Well, I'm also doing Qui-Gon's laundry, and he likes me to sort everything before washing. You know, white socks in one washing machine, gray socks in another, cotton briefs in another, plain white boxers in another, striped boxers in another..."
"Enough," Maul growled impatiently. He didn't want to hear any more of this Jedi nonsense. With a grunt, he upended the entire contents of his laundry bag into the lone washing machine.
"Aren't you going to sort that?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Sith do not sort," Maul sneered as he used every ounce of strength and Force to cram the towering pile of laundry into the regular capacity machine. There, that would do. Mind you, there probably wasn't any room for the water to get into the machine, but it would have to do. Maul dug into his pocket, pulled out a twenty credit bill, and headed for the change machine.
It didn't take anything larger than a ten.
Maul stared at the machine in utter fury, contemplating all the various tortures he could wreak upon it, then realized that he'd have to forgo that pleasure for the moment, because he desperately needed the change. "I will come back for you," he growled, then stalked next door to the convenience store to buy a lottery ticket and a magazine.
Striding back into the laundromat, Maul froze in agony as he realized that the music pumping through the speakers was the muzak version of his favorite Marilyn Manson album. Teeth grinding against each other, he stuffed his ten credit bill into the machine then stuck the change in his pocket. The jeans once again refused to cooperate and spat the change right back out onto the floor. After a protracted wrestling match pitting man against pants, the pants finally acknowledged the superiority of his Sith ways and gave up with a whimper. Maul spent half his change on laundry detergent, then put the rest into the washing machine and, kicking more children out of the way, he settled down on the bench next to Obi-Wan and started reading the latest Sony Play Station magazine. Ah, Jedi Roadkill II would be coming out soon. Excellent.
Obi-Wan got up almost immediately and started pouring fabric softener in each and every washing machine on the premises. "Would you like me to put some in yours?" he offered helpfully.
Maul shot him the evil eye and snarled, "Sith do not use fabric softener."
"Maybe you should. Your robes will be all nice and fluffy soft. Oh dear, your machine seems to have unbalanced."
Maul leapt from his seat and surveyed the little red warning light with a scowl.
"You really did put too much in there," Obi-Wan chided.
Maul turned on him with an expression of pure venom and growled, "Only because you are monopolizing every other machine here, Jedi scum!!!"
Obi-Wan turned pink, muttered an apology, and slunk back to the bench. Maul turned his glare back to the machine, yanked it open, rearranged the contents ever so slightly, then muttered foul threats at it as he closed the lid. It hesitated, he threatened some more, and it obediently started chugging again.
By Mysterio Gal. Click to see larger image.
Kicking more screaming children out of his way, Maul went back to the bench to keep reading his magazine. Hmmm...it looked like Jedi Roadkill II wouldn't be out for another couple of months. However, Jedi Tomb Raider was coming out in a week. He looked longingly at the picture of Darth Lara Croft. Why didn't they really have babes like that in the Sith?
The muzak changed to Metallica. "Oh, I like Metallica!" Obi-Wan enthused.
This was the final straw. Maul whipped out his lightsaber, cried "Do what you will to Marilyn Manson, but don't fuck with Metallica!" then eviscerated the sound system and took out the change machine for good measure. Whirling to face the rampaging horde of children, he bellowed, "Where the hell are your parents?"
They collectively shrugged, and continued running laps around the machines.
All the washing machines buzzed as one. "Oh, my laundry's done!" Obi-Wan grinned as he grabbed a wheeled cart and started emptying out all his machines and neatly putting their contents into dryers.
Maul surveyed his damage with a satisfied smile and went back to his Darth Lara Croft picture, drawing a crown of little horns on her to make her the perfect woman. "The Force runs strong in you," he grinned. "How else could you get your bosom to defy gravity so well?"
Obi-Wan headed back to the bench and said, "I'm finished with my magazine. Would you like it?"
Maul shot him an evil look, then went back to ogling Lara.
"Okay, I'm going next door to get another magazine. I'll be back in a couple of minutes. Would you watch my stuff for me? Thanks!"
Maul's washing machine buzzed, and he grabbed a wheeled cart and headed over to empty it out. Well, his clothes weren't stiff anymore, but they still had a generous amount of cat hair on them. Good thing he had that lint brush at home. He just needed to get a little change for the dryers...
He looked over at the smoking remains of the change machine. All the coinage had fused together. There was no way he was going to get any dryer change.
Turning analytical eyes towards Obi-Wan's happily chugging dryers, he grinned ear to ear as several evil thoughts entered his mind.
Twenty-five minutes later, Obi-Wan walked back into the laundromat. He'd had a really hard time choosing between Redbook and Woman's Day, but eventually settled on the latter. He really wanted to read the article about Kathy Lee Gifford and underaged Ewok labor. "Sorry I took so long..."
He looked with horror at the wet clothes strewn all over the laundromat. The clothes he'd so painstakingly sorted and washed for his Master were all ruined! Not only had they been flung everywhere, but the troupe of children had been running across them, smearing muddy footprints across everything, even Master Qui-Gon's favorite white silk boxers! He'd never get that stain out, no matter how much Shout he used on it!
"Why didn't that nice man watch my laundry?" Obi-Wan asked the nearest child.
"You're back! He told us you'd buy us ice cream!"
"Yeah, where's our ice cream?" another child demanded.
As the wave of hungry kids washed towards him, Obi-Wan let out a cry of "Nooooo!!!!!!!!!" before he was drowned by a mass of screaming flesh. Off in the corner, a newly sentient pair of Sith jeans waited for its opening. Soon it would reveal itself to the Jedi. Soon it would have revenge...
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