Okay, no one be offended by this, this is just a funny little thing that I imagined the OmniBurn Knights doing. And it gives me a chance to make fun of Charade.

Disclaimer: I don't own Futurama.

Darth Ben had not been having a good day. He was certain that someone had been following him, and now he was absolutely certain. Mostly cause someone conked him on the head.

But when he woke up, he was rather far from were he expected. Everything around him was burning, and an evil looking man stood over him. He wore a red suit and an opera mask, and had a red jeweled cane.

"Hello." He said. "I'm Charade. Welcome to Writer Hell!" Ben was shocked, but could not respond.

"For each of your crimes we've prepared a painful and ironic punishment. Hit it!" Jazzy music started playing. Ben rolled his eyes. "Mind if I write?" But Charade took his pen and poked him with it savagely. Then he stared singing.

Charade: Copying the script is nasty.
And works that never change will never sell.
So I don't think it's mean to put you through a flaming Xerox machine
Here on level one of Writer Hell.

Self-inserts all need some flaws,
But you keep making filthy Mary Sues.
Let's let lady luck decide
what type of torture's justified.
I'm pit boss here on level two.

Charade hooked Darth Ben on a giant wheel lined with tortures and spun it. When the wheel stopped, he exclaimed, "Oooh, char broiled writer!" and immediately started doing that to Ben.

Ben: Just tell me why.
Charade: Please read this fifty-five page warrant.
Ben: There must be writers worse than I.
Charade: We checked around, there really aren't.
Ben: Then please let me explain;
I really am a simple guy.
Charade: Your parodies make children cry!
Ben: Aw, don't blame me, blame my upbringing.
Charade: Please stop sinning while I'm singing!

Charade: You think that your good at pairings.
But have you seen the couples that you drive.
Bowser and Namine: Hey Ben gonna make some noise
When your paired with a walrus for your beastly ploys.
That's whatcha, whatcha, whatcha get on level five.

Meanwhile, Sam and Neroes shot down a slide into Writer hell to save Darth Ben.

Sam: I don't feel well.
Neroes: It's up to us to rescue him.
Sam: Maybe he likes it here in hell.
Neroes: It's us who tempted him to sin.
Sam: But hey, with Ben how can you tell.
Neroes: Come on Fry, don't be scared,
I'm sure at least one of us will be spared.
So just sit back, enjoy the ride.
Sam: My ass has blisters from the slide.

Back to Ben.

Charade: Stealing stories, flaming rivals,
Publishing uncreative fanfics.
You'll pay for every crime,
Knee-deep in Nobody slime.
You'll suffer 'till the end of time,
Enduring tortures, most of which rhyme.
Trapped forever here in Writer Hell!