HOW TO RUiN AN EMPIRE: DIARY OF A SITH LORD PART IV - SENSITIVITY TRAINING (Featuring @lordvader as author)

A few days ago, as I was sitting in my chamber enjoying one of the few moments when I can take off my helmet and actually breathe, one of my underlings interrupted me. It happens every freaking time! I take off my helmet, sit down on the throne, and start to read a blog. And then I hear, "My Lord, My Lord" as one of the dimwits knock on the door. This particular tool came to tell me that there was an incoming transmission from my boss. Whenever my boss thinks someone else is listening, he talks in a slow, gravely voice. He thinks it makes him sound menacing. Really it just makes him hard to understand, but whatever he's the boss. By the way, in private, he sounds a lot like Bib Fortuna.

Anyway, it was kind of tough to make out all the details but he said something about some sensitivity training that I needed to attend the next day. He also said that I "must complete my training" and under no circumstances could I "force choke, force crush, throw stuff at people using the force, cut anyone in half, shove red hot pokers anywhere, or use any torture devices." Basically, he said I couldn't hurt anyone. This translates to, "Vader you can't have any fun".

He never let's me have any fun anymore.

If he was worried about me snapping, I figured it must mean that I would be teaching a class on force sensitivity. Which would be fine, but as I have already mentioned, everyone who works for me is a complete moron! There is no way any of them are force sensitive. I don't think half of them can even see. But I'm a good apprentice so I went back to my chamber to prepare my lessons. I created a delightful powerpoint covering the finer points of the force. I added some awesome animations and used a slashing lightsaber blade as the transition from slide to slide. It was dazzling. I began to day dream... Maybe one of the students would give me an apple. Wait. Maybe ALL of them would give me apples. Then I would use the force to throw each and every one of those apples back at those idiots because they know I can't eat solid food.

The next day, I gathered my materials and headed to the conference room. There was someone in the front of the room wearing a tweed jacket with elbow pads. He had a name tag that read, "Hello, my name is Jeff. But you can call me anything that is respectful of who I am as a person". I figured this knob was the AV guy who would be helping me set up. As I approached to hand him the holocard containing my powerpoint, he reached out his hand and said, "Why hello Lord Vader. So happy to have such a fine gentleman here. Please have a seat with the other students."

WTF!

I was a student?! I reached out to the force to calm myself. Ok. Maybe this is a class about how things feel. You know, like how a throat feels in your hand as you are crushing the life out it's owner. Does it feel squishy, soft, slimy, hairy, or crunchy. I can see why I'd need to learn this. I haven't had feeling in my freaking hand for like 20 years thanks to my old teacher Kenobi who cut off my legs and left me to die in a pool of lava that caused nerve damage to the rest of my body. I hate teachers! I can't wait to hear what this doofus Jeff has to say.

As I took my place in the audience, I reminded myself, "Not allowed to hurt anybody. Not allowed to hurt anybody. No fun".

Jeff began by asking, "Does anyone know why we need to be respectful of every race in the galaxy and take their feelings into account?"

Holy Crap! This was a training on behaving and speaking in a respectful manner! I prayed for death. It did not come. What did come, was a few pearls of wisdom from that twit Jeff, "If we are respectful, it makes it easier to interact with people who are different from us. It shows that we care enough about people to learn and use respectful language when communicating with and about them. Basically we do this in the name of 'common decency'".

Now I know why Palpatine forbade me from having any fun. All I could think about was using the force to make this jackhammer eat his own feet!

I started to think this was some kind of mistake. I thought of all the times I had been remarkably respectful. The Hutts for example. Those fat Hutts love me. I hire them all the time to do my dirty work. Or what about the Twi'leks? What a great people. Oola, my favorite exotic dancer, is one of those Twi'leks. I'm sure all those tail heads are great dancers. And I love their food and drinks! Sometimes when I'm watching Oola, I have a Twi'lek izzy-mold. See all these races love me. I'm respectful.

But my master had given me an order, so I sat back and tried not to explode. Next, Jeff began to show us pictures of different races from around the galaxy. He asked, "What do we call this race? And remember be decent." He giggled. I wanted to smash his head with a crate so bad!

Ok this wasn't so bad. This was going to be easy. I proudly stated, "Buttface" and waited for my reward. Jeff responded, "Now Lord vader, is that decent?" Obviously Jeff knew that my boss had given me strict orders not to cut him in half... or eighths. I tried again, "Baboon face." Jeff shook his stupid head. "Walrus man", I said. Jeff replied, "Sorry. He's an Aqualish. Let's try another".





"Hammerhead!", I shouted. Jeff shook his head. Boy did I want to make it keep spinning. "Deformed E.T.". Still not right. Jeff said, "This is an Ithorian and 'deformed' anything would be disrespedctful". I interjected, "But come on! He really, really looks like a hammer head shark!"





Jeff ignored me and continued his little show.





"Ummmmmmm."





"Pen...", I stopped myself. "Shi.....", I just couldn't do it.

Next!

"Snaggletooth", I called. Another head shake. "Nostril puss". Wrong again. "Sniveling snouter". Jeff gave me a look that said , "You are so cute for trying" and informed me that this was a Snivvian.





"More expensive Snivvian!" Yes! I finally got one right.





This one was easy. "Marauder". Nope. "Dirty slave trader". Jeff calmly asked , "Now Darth, they aren't all slaver traders and marauders are they?" I replied, "Well someone is doing the marauding and slave trading".

This loser just wasn't getting it.

As Jeff went through a few more slides, I started to wonder why the heck my boss even cared about all of this. I said I needed to use the restroom and slipped out. (The idiot fell for it. Everyone knows I pee in this suit.) I took this opportunity to contact the Emperor. I said, "Master, why do you care about this nonsense? We are the Empire. We don't have a single alien or non-white male working for us (aside from independent contractors...I love those guys!). In fact, the majority of our employees are white guys... who we then dress in all white armor to make them even more white. Why are we doing this training?"

My crusty old boss responded (in his real Bib Fortuna-like voice by the way), "Listen. You and I both know we don't care about any of these other creatures. We are going to use them up and spit them out. But we must at least look like we are all inclusive. It's a lot cheaper to trick a system into thinking you might actually help them rather than having to use valuable resources to take it over. Oh Lord Vader, you didn't think I meant you had to actually believe any of this garbage did you? You just have to appear to be respectful."

Even though I'd prefer to just crush any system who opposed us, he had a point about the money. So I went back to complete my training.

Jeff was still running through slides. "And what would we call him?"

Oh my lord.

I closed my eyes and went to sleep (no one can even tell in this helmet anyway).

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