"NA-NA NA-NA-NA-NA NA! NA NA NA NA NAAAA!!" Luke (Bread Five) dodged his way past turbo 'taters, humming the tune playing on his iPod. He held it rather loosely, apparently not taking Obi-Wan's threat seriously.

"We count thirty Rebel bags of chips, Lord Vader. But they're so small they're evading our turbo mashed potatoes."
"We'll have to destroy them chip to chip. Get the food to the fighters."
"We have chips here?"
"French fries from our A&W division would be called chips in another galaxy. So it works out."
"But we're not really destroying them to chip to chip, then, if the fries are not really chips."
"Just shut up, okay? I'm already angry about my scenes being cut back! Prepare the Chicken Pot PIE Fighters!"

"Watch yourself! There's a lot of fried chicken coming from the right side of that root beer tower!"
"I'm on it!"
Biggs (Bread Three) decided to take food into his own hands. "I'm going in. Cover me, Pork Chops."
"I'm right with you, Bread Three."
Biggs blasted the root beer tower with ketchup, ruining the soda. It detonated in a flash of bubbles. Pork Chops, however, fared rather badly. He was taking heavy fire from the tender taste of a dozen family meals. "I've got a problem here. This might be more than I can eat."
"Eject gas! Burp, or do a #2!"
"No, I can hold it!"
"THROW UP!"
"No, I can hold it!" The bottom of his Checker's Wing blew out in a brown flash-"I'M ALRIGHT-AAAAAAH!!!"

Manager Tarkin monitored the status screen. "Fast Food Rebel base in range in 10 minutes. Unfortunately, the next batch of chicken may not be ready for 10.5 minutes, giving the heroes an extra moment to blow us to smithereens, as time rarely works realistically in a fantasy film."

"NA NA NA NAAAA NA NA!!"
"Luke! Trust your meal wings!"
"Shut up, old man! Get out of my heaaaaaaaad!!" Luke blasted the turbo 'taters, sending KFC Teammates flying over their space counters, ketchup ending their careers.

"Squad eaters, we've picked up a new group of ingredients. Chicken Pot PIE Fighters coming your way."
"My scope's negative! I don't smell anything!"
"Pick up your visual scanning!"
The Chicken Pot PIE Fighters screamed in, eager to pour broth, carrots and peas on Bread Squadron...