“And so it’s come to this.” I whisper these words through gritted teeth as some soul-sapped grad student pushes me out to the edge of a plank. The accounting faculty have constructed a Sarlacc Pit Monster in their basement and have decided to sacrifice any of us accounting majors who show a glimmer of creativity. As I tumble forward I grab the edge of the plank, and—PARKOUR!—triple somersault, just like black-clad Luke in Jedi. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bitefighter in a ventilation shaft. He headbutts the grate and paws my eReader out the exposed hole. It drops into my hands and erupts with a magic flash. Suddenly I’ve got a lightsaber, and I’m surrounded by blaster fire. I reenact one of the last good scenes from the Star Wars franchise (fingers crossed, hope they’re gonna bring their A-game for the next movie) and make my escape. Thank the Maker I didn’t have to wear a metal bikini in this one!