This Crack Fic was inspired and Edited by the great Perry Downing. If you like Romance, Lemons, Angst and Happily Ever She's the one you need.

The door would have opened with a hand print scan. All the doors did.

This one would have too, if Kylo Ren hadn't kicked it open with his size 10 non- uniform regulation combat boots. Complete with extra buckles. Some also speculated there were weights added to it to make his stomping louder when the Master of the Knights of Ren was feeling extra pissy. However they speculated this privately. Very privately. Most people liked their limbs attached to where they were first grown after all. Weirdos.

What are you working on right now?" he bellowed at the engineering department, watching chairs fall over in surprise and terror.

"Wait a minute. I DON'T CARE! Who is in charge here? Is it you?" He pointed at the only person who had managed to keep their feet.

She shook her head mutely, eyes wide with terror. "Then who!?" he bellowed, pointing a shaking hand to a man in the corner ducking behind a tall ficus that was doing jack all to hide his cowering frame.

"I want this!" he hissed, waving around a photograph in the man's face. It showed a lovely young woman bent over a small BB-8 droid, her hand gently resting on it as if in benediction. It appeared to have been folded and creased, as if opened and closed many times. Perhaps shoved in a pocket quickly. There were some weird substances on it. Tears, snot… at least that's what the Head Engineer hoped it was. He did not want to pursue this line of thought too closely.

"Sir…" he quavered. "We've told you. The technology just isn't there yet for a love doll."

"NO you fool!" he shouted. The force of his scream dislodged some fake leaves still entrenched in the man's cowering hair. "This!" He gestured with a sparkly black nail at the droid in the photo. Thankfully it was far less stained than the girl.

"Sir..." he began slowly, as if talking to a child. A large child wearing a cape and able to crush him with a thought. "We can get you a BB unit. They are common. Just go down two corridors to dispersing and-"

"I don't want just any BB unit, I want..." He dragged over a chair and promptly placed his foot on it. Curling his hands into claws he gestured at the ceiling. Clearing his throat he finally bellowed "AN EVIL BB unit!" The engineering department exchanged a look as the lights flickered during this pronouncement. The intern sighed disgustedly. He was new and had yet to become accustomed to some of the more….personal uses of the Force Kylo Ren used. The rest were just pleased he had grown out of interrupting departmental meeting with shouts of "SPACE WEDGIES!"

"Can't you just add a programming chip to any BB unit and make it evil!?" asked the New Guy who seemed to lack vital survival instincts. Kicking over the chair that his foot had rested on Kylo Ren stalked over to glare down the intern. Also everyone else, just on general principle.

"Do all of you lack vision?" Grabbing a piece of paper from an engineer huddled in her chair, he took out a black glitter gel pen from a secreted pocket. He had many pockets filled with many important items necessary to the Master of the Knights of Ren. Black nail polish. Glittery gel pens in various shade of black. One or two in red. Various pictures of the scavenger girl who TotallyWasn'tPrettyandBelovedByEveryoneIncludingDroidsandBots. Some Sharpies to draw on Hux in case he fell asleep in the wardroom again. A shiny rock he had found on the ground after his battle on Starkiller base.

Important things.

Hunching his large frame over an available desk, he began to scribble madly. Once again, looks were exchanged throughout the room of men and women, held hostage by a man who insisted on wearing capes to bed and had been attempting to write a personal theme song for three months.

"There!" he yelled triumphantly, waving a piece of paper in the face of the Head of Engineering. A man who had gone to school for eight years and worked up the ranks of the first order for 13 years.

"Sir. That's two stacked circles with angry eyebrows drawn on top."

"It's a concept people!" Drawing his lightsaber, he turned and furiously began destroying the nearest piece of machinery in what was surprisingly deft and exact strokes.

"There!" he cried. On the wall where the piece of gear once stood was now a copy of his design in all its angry eyebrowed glory.

"Not the froyo machine," moaned the intern who seemed to have a Kylo Ren related death wish.

Ren paused. Heavy breaths emphasized by his mask.

"You guys have a froyo machine?"

"Had."

Clearing his throat he waved away the smoke caused by the death of the soon to be mourned frozen yogurt dispenser.

"I have made my needs clear. I want this," he gestured at the strangely sticky photo "But evil. EVIL.

His mask swiveled to glare at the room occupants one by one. "Do I make my needs known?"

"How do you feel about flame decals?" asked up a voice by the drafting table.

Kylo Ren stalked over, attempting to make his cape swoop as much as the small space would let him.

"What?"

"Flames? Or maybe like, a skull with flames coming out of it."

Looming his tall frame over what must be the most suicidal intern in the history of any department of the First Order he spoke, "You."

"Me?"

"You. You are now in charge of this project."

The boy looked ill, as if his actions of the last few moments had finally caught up to him. Or perhaps the blue milk from lunch had turned his stomach.

"All of you heed my words." He gestured to the pale intern who look like he might throw up on Kylo Ren's custom ordered spiked, buckled non regulation boots. "He is now in charge. Do as he says. Fail me and you shall all be sewn inside a Taun Taun and dropped into the Galadium Battle pits. Succeed however…." At this he opened his arms wide, letting his cloak spread out like a moody teenage bird showing off its misunderstood yet intimidating plumage

"...There will be froyo...FOR ALL!"

With that he wooshed from the room, cape billowing behind him like the sail of the U.S.S Hot Topic.

He had places to be.

A theme song to write.