Census, anyone?

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Too bad.

Summery: Our favorite Sith Lord is visited by a census worker.

A/N: This was written for a workshop taken during a summer writing program. The 
purpose was to write a short story or poem about a "bad" character in a new 
situation and how he will react. The point was to make the reader understand 
where the "bad" guy was coming from. One of the situations was a census worker 
coming. I immediately got a humorous mental picture of Vader opening up a door 
to a census worker. And that led to this. I know this is really weird, but it's 
supposed to be.



	There was a knock on the door around lunchtime that day. I looked up. 
There was a second knock, more urgent this time. Annoyed, I got up and flung 
open the door. A census worker stood there, shifting his weight from foot to 
foot anxiously.

	"What do you want?" I rumbled.

	"Sir, I work for the census department of the government. We did not 
receive your census form-"

	I cut him off. "I receive the form, yes. I even read it. I then, of 
course, threw it out."

	"Yes sir! We figured that-"

	"Well, figure this!" I reached out and grabbed him by the throat. He 
started chocking. "I do not acknowledge your pitiful government, census worker. 
Now leave and don't come back!" I released him and his hand automatically rose 
to stroke his sore neck. It still had the red mark my gloves had made on it.

	"But sir, I need-"

	"Your needs are immaterial. Now go before I kill you." He didn't need any 
more persuasion and ran away.

	I went back to eating lunch. Annoyingly, it was cold. 'Can't an Imperial 
ever eat lunch in peace?' I asked myself. First telemarketers and door-to-door 
salesmen and now government spies trying to get personal information! And this 
was supposed to be the land of the free! There was another timid knock on the 
door. I groaned. This was enough to make a good Sith go to the light side.


Finis.