Inspired by the Attic Quiz: Darwin Awards (google Darwin Awards and it will make sense)
Warning: contains innuendo that could be disturbing to overly sensitive members of the masculine minority. And, for some reason, a little alliteration also.
Don't Dis the Dark Lord
Among the Sith it was accepted, even required, that an apprentice would seek to overthrow his master. It was not, however, acceptable for said apprentice to insult his master in public.
Malak, apprentice to the Dark Lord Revan, normally had no trouble remembering the second part, at least when he was sober. Unfortunately for Malak, the Sith tended to throw exuberant, debauched parties after every battle. These parties were forever a trial to the man who lived in Revan's shadow. Scantily dressed Sith groupies would seek out the inebriated second-in-command and, with shining eyes and breathless voices, ask Malak to tell them all about the dark, dangerous, dread Dark Lord Revan.
Frowning, Malak would glance around the room, and then proceed to explain just why he was more worthy of their lustful attentions than the puny Dark Lord. What Malak forgot was that Revan liked to observe his forces while hidden behind a stealth field.
"Look at my lightsaber," Malak boasted one day, displaying his pride and joy to the ladies gathered around him. "It's redder, longer, and stronger than the little thing my 'master' wields."
"No one," Revan said, switching off his stealth shield. "Has a better lightsaber than me."
Malak turned pale. Moments later, his lightsaber was scattered in pieces across the floor.
Satisfied that his apprentice had learnt his lesson, Revan spoke no more of the matter, and things settled back into routine. The Dark Lord was truly surprised when some weeks later he heard Malak once again boasting to a bevy of beauties.
"Do you know why he wears a mask? Revan has no chin to speak of," Malak said proudly. "Not like my strong, noble, masculine jaw."
"No one," Revan said, switching off his stealth shield. "Has a stronger jaw than me."
Malak turned pale. Moments later, his jaw was scattered in pieces across the floor.
Revan began to question his choice of apprentices, when a few weeks later it became apparent that Malak had still not learnt his lesson. Speaking through his new voicebox, the now jawless apprentice complained to a group of (female) recruits about the slow progress of Revan's conquest of the galaxy.
"He's let too many worlds get away with resisting his rule," Malak grumbled. "Revan just doesn't have the balls to do the job properly."
"No one," Revan said, switching off his stealth shield. "Has bigger balls than me."
Malak fainted before he could turn pale.