Josh, the Nexus Editor, sighed and thumped his head lightly on his desk. The contributors were late submitting their columns again, and the WSU pages were a lot cause. Nothing much was interesting in the news, and even the Lettuce page lacked some of its usual  je ne sais quoi. 

If only, the editor thought. If only they knew my true power - the power of a Jedi Wizard. Things wouldn't be coming in late then.  

Suddenly, the Editor's office door burst inwards in a shower of splinters! In leapt Spock and Kirk, breathing heavily, covered in sweat, their Starship Enterprise uniforms rent and torn.

"Kirk! Spock!" the Editor cried. "Spacemen of the Enterprise! What brings you to our times?"

"There is terrible danger," Spock said, wiping his logical brow. "The universe - nay, the Universes - is threatened." 

"In our future," said Kirk, his hard yet sensitive eyes weeping quiet tears of frustration, "there is nothing left. They destroyed it all. They came, and they..."

"Who came!?" cried the Editor, his hand instinctively feeling for his wand-saber, tucked as always safely in his belt.

"The...followers of....he...who must not... be... named," said Kirk, slumping over and closing his eyes for the last time.

"NOOOOOOO!" howled Spock. "DO NOT WANT! DO NOT WANT!" 

The Editor whirled, wand-saber at the ready. Suddenly, the roof of the Nexus office caved in, and Goku, resplendent in his Super Saya-jin Times Six form, appeared in a swirling cloud of power. 

Goku raised a hand, sheer power ebbing and crackling about him. "Where are the Ultimate Super Dragon Balls?" he said, his voice terrible. Spock crawled off into a corner and huddled with his phaser raised weakly above his head.

The Editor muttered a spell of calming, one known only to him, pointing his wand-saber at the terrible apparition before him. On Goku's head, he could see the mark of a skull with a snake writhing between its teeth. He's bewitched, the Editor realised. Clearly, Voldemort has returned from his exile in the Dead Zone where poor dead Potter lies still, his sacrifice become useless. He must have cast a spell on Goku! But... how? 

"Stop thinking in italics!" snarled Goku, the calming spell having barely any effect. "I have read your puny mind. Truly, the Dark Lord has returned, and you and your order shall be powerless to stop him!" 

"Goku, my former best friend," the Editor said, sadly, "I have fought many foes, but I never wished to fight you. Throw off your enchantment, and I need not destroy you." 

"Never!" snarled the Super Saya-jin Times Six. "I have enough power to destroy the multiverse! I shall power up now, and within five minutes annihlate you all!" 

The Editor watched in great sadness as Goku screamed, his muscles bulging. After fourteen episodes, he tired of this and sliced the great Saya-jin in half with one cut of his glowing wand-saber. 

"Powering up was always your greatest weakness," the Editor said, bowing to the halves of his fallen foe. 

Suddenly, a great wormhole appeared in the sky, and from it fell several figures, darting and weaving in a magical duel so intense it turned the University Lakes to glass. 

The Editor watched as the writhing forms of Jedi Wizard Masters Ron and Hermione fell from the sky, their battered visages wrenched in anger towards the dark they had been battling at the center of the terrible wormhole. 

"We... cannot... hold him," gasped Master Ron. "He has cut through the ranks of the Order. Even Skywalker fell before him. You are the only hope, Editor." 

The dark figure in the sky laughed horribly, so the earth shook. With a flick of his wand-saber Master Ron's red head exploded in a shower of gore. 

Hermione ignored this and ran to the Editor, clutching his arm. 

"You are our only hope!" she said. "You must banish him once again!" 

"I cannot," said the Editor. "I swore a solemn oath to never kill again." 

Hermione looked about her, at the scene of carnage, and particularly Goku's smoking torso. 

"Yes," said the Editor, heavily. "I swore it ten seconds ago." 

"Well break it!" cried Hermione, her green-purple eyes blazing. "Do it for us! For our love!"

"Okay," said the Editor, and ascended, facing the grinning phantasm in the sky. 

"AHAHA!" said the leering figure of Dark Pan-dimensional Lord Voldemort, wrapped in glowing awesome cybernetic magickal armour. "I have allied with the vampires and werewolves from the world of Twilight! At last, I am truly immortal! Nothing can stop us now! All I require is the last Super Ultimate Dragonball - and I see it, there, in your office, disguised as a common Magic Eight Ball!" 

The Editor laughed, his rich dark hair whipping about his chiseled, handsome face, his Calvin Klein jacket whipping in the hell-born winds, pale skin sparkling in the morning sun. He raised his wand-saber, prepared for battle. 

Volemort saw his skin sparkling, and looked at the Editor in shock. 

"There's one thing you didn't count on," chuckled the Editor. "I too visited the Twilight world, and met with Bella. She agreed to help me. Now, I too, am a vampyre - the only Jedi Wizard to become truly immortal!" 

Voldemort screamed in disbelief, but it was too late. 

"I am a servant of the Jedi Wizard council!" shouted the Editor, his voice resonating with raw power. "Wielder of a mighty wand-saber! Go back to the Shadow, you cheap Sauron rip-off! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" 

Weaving a Jedi Wizard spell enriched with arcane vampyre magicks, the Editor forced the Dark Lord back into the closing wormhole with the sharp point of his wand-saber. Crying aloud, he finished off by flying around the world faster than the speed of light, which reversed time for some reason and undid all the madness...

The Editor came to, sitting in his office. "Wow, what a crazy dream that was!" he groaned. He took stock of his surroundings. The contributors were late submitting their columns again, and the WSU pages were a lot cause. Nothing much was interesting in the news, and even the Lettuce page lacked some of its usual je ne sais quoi. 

But at least the Editorial was finished. 

To Be Continued...?