Down the hall he walked, until he came to a desk. No one was near, so he sat down on the swivel chair. Pinneapple loved swivel chairs. He spun, and spun, and spun. He closed his eyes and pretended he was on the merry-go-round of his youth.

"Excuse me!" said a voice. The chair suddenly stopped, and Pinneapple almost fell out. He looked up at the two people standing there... No, only one. He was still dizzy.

It was the owner of the desk, the Sith receptionist. She had dark brown hair, tied up in a bun at the back. She wore, like everyone else, a black cape. She looked vaguely familiar, but Pinneapple couldn't figure out why.

"I leave this desk for five minutes, to get some coffee, and what do I find when I come back? Pinneapple Delight! Shouldn't you be waiting for your appointment? The Master's probably ready for you by now."

Pinneapple didn't move. "How did you know my name?"

The receptionist groaned. "Who cares? Just get out of my chair!"

She had an evil look in her eye. Pinneapple ran all the way down the hall, and sat back heavily in his seat. Just then, Muffin came out from behind the door. He looked disappointed. "Your turn, kid. I'll see you around."

He left through the front door, with a sad wave. "Oh, great," Pinneapple thought. "This Sith guy seems picky."

He cautiously opened the door, and stepped inside.

"Ah, Pinneapple Delight. I've been expecting you. Have a seat."

There was a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, VERY old man, sitting behind another desk. In front of the desk was a small wooden stool, but Pinneapple didn't sit down.

"Why does everyone here know my name?" he asked in exasperation. The very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, VERY old man just laughed.

"My receptionist just told me. Now take a seat."

Pinneapple sat.

"Good. Now, what made you decide to change from being a Jedi?"

"How did you know I was a Jedi?"

"You're still wearing your Jedi robes."

"Oh. Well, being a Jedi is so boring. I mean, we don't even have a Halloween party!" Pinneapple sighed.

The very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, VERY old man looked down at the clipboard on his desk. On the bottom, right after "Pinneapple Delight," he wrote, "Just might be stupid enough to become a Sith." Then he stared off into space, imaginig how fun that would be....

Pinneapple waited a while. But finally, he said, "Um, Very, Very, Very, Very, Very, Very, Very, Very, VERY Old Man? Are you asleep?"

That broke the old man's daydream. "Eh? What did you call me? Just call me Master, it will be a lot easier." Then he started daydreaming again.

Pinneapple wondered how such an old man as Master could still be alive.

Finally, Master seemed to wake up. "Pinneapple, you've got yourself a job!"

"Yippee!" Pinneapple yelled.

"But first, you'll have to get fitted for a black robe."

"Okay. Seems fair enough."

"Of course it's fair enough! You're a Sith now, my boy, and you have to obey me. Now, before we go, I want you to give me a shoulder massage."

"Um..." Pinneapple had never given a massage before. He put his hands on Master's shoulders and started hitting them as hard as he could.

"AAUGH!!!" screamed Master. "You're doing it wrong!" He pushed a button on his desk, calling in the receptionist. "You can leave now. Just wait outside until I come out."

Pinneapple sat down in his original chair, with Tattoo staring at him again. He sat and waited, sat and waited, sat and waited, sat and waited. "Massages must take a very long time," he thought. Finally, after at least half an hour, the receptionist came back out.

"Come on," she said.

"I can't leave. Master told me to wait until he came out. I'm going to be fitted for a robe."

"He's not coming. I'm taking you."

"Oh." Pinneapple was disappointed. He was starting to like Master, and was missing him already. The receptionist grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the Headquarters, and down the sidewalk.

"Receptionist, where are we going?"

"One, don't call me 'Receptionist.' My name's Mervie. Two, you'll find out when we get there."

"Aw, come on Mervie. Just tell me," Pinneapple pleaded.

"I don't remember you ever being this whiny," Mervie said. She looked frankly disgusted.

"Disgusted! Why do you look so familiar when you're disgusted?" Pinneapple asked.

"You IDIOT! Don't you remember me? I'm Minervie!"

"I thought you said you were Mervie, not Minervie," Pinneapple said. He was getting extremely confused.

"I was a Jedi with you!" Mervie (or Minervie) yelled. "I just saw you this morning when you left!"

"Did you decide to leave too?"

"NO! I'm spying on them, making Master think I'm his receptionist, when I'm really telling the Jedi what his next move will be!"

"Oh, naughty, naughty! I'm going to tell on you!"

Minervie turned pale. "Don't!" she hissed. "I'll do anything! You can't give away my secret, or he'll fire me and the Jedi will lose!"

"But I'm a Sith now. A real one."

"You are not! Master just likes you because you're dumb."

Pinneapple was deeply offended. "I'm going to tell on you," he resolved.

"I'll do anything!"

"Anything?"

"Yes, anything."

"Anything?"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!!" Minervie screamed.

"I want a package of marshmallows," Pinneapple said.

"Fair enough." Inside, Minervie was snickering. This would be so easy to keep him in line!

"Of course it's fair enough! You're a Sith now, my boy, and you have to obey me--"

"Just come on. You can have you marshmallows on the way back."