"Here they come!"
"NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA!"
"Could you not do that in my ear while we're trying to avoid dying, Bread Five?!"
"Sorry!" Bread Five said.
"Watch it-you've got crumbs on your tail!"
The ill-fated Bread pilot who will remain nameless because I don't remember his name and don't feel like making one up, dodged and looked behind him at a Chicken Pot PIE that will be digitally added later. As broth soaked his sandwich and he lost altitude, he shouted, "I'm hit!" Then he exploded, in a splash of lettuce and tomato.
"If you pick up one up, watch it! It's probably dangerously hot! Not unlike McDonalds' coffee or French fries!"
Bread Three (Biggs) was in trouble. "I can't see him! But I can smell peas! He's on me tight, like a girdle on William Shatner! I can't milkshake him!"
"I'll be right there! I don't have any milkshakes, though. But I'm on my way."
"Well maybe next time you should make sure the milkshake machine is working, Luke! How about that?"
"Look, I almost drowned, okay? Cut me some slack!"
"This may not be the best time for old friends to argue, Luke. But um...I'm a little concerned about you," Biggs said, still dodging the blasts of carrots and broth. "I mean, are you really still wearing diapers?"
"Do you really take that old man seriously? No, I'm not wearing diapers! And I'm concerned about you, Biggs! Why'd you tell Pork Chops to throw up or do a #2?"
"We do have a built-in commode in these things, Luke! I do have SOME sense! It's just in case! If we get a little overwhelmed out here, at least we're sittin' in the right seat to do it! It's not pleasant, but believe me, Luke, when that Extra Tasty Crispy hits your digestive tract--"
"Too much information!" The targeting system beeped green, and Luke blasted the Chicken Pot PIE. Peas and carrots, along with pieces of chicken, spattered his viewscreen. "NA NA NA NAAAAAA! Oh. Shouldn't do that, anymore. Right..."

"Several sandwiches have broken off from the main menu. Come with me," Vader said to two KFC Teammates. "And get someone to fix that soda machine! I almost spilled my Orange Slice!"

Vader neared the hangar, only to find Obi-Wan Kenobi standing there, McBig sandwich in hand. "What? This is totally out of sequence! And how did you get here?"
"Never mind my transportation plans. It ends here, Vader. As does your highly overpaid contract. You don't even do your own voice!"
"Is that my fault? You illegally used French fries to defeat me last time!"
A man wearing a 'FOOD WARS: KFC TEAM' Polo shirt walked onto the set. "What the heck are you doing? Read the freakin' script! Or you're both gone!"
"This is scripted?" Vader said. "But it's so out of place! I'm supposed to be in the space battle!"
"Well...don't worry-this'll be over in a couple of minutes. If anyone asks, tell 'em you used the Food to stop time itself. Now, read the script! Read it!"
"Okay. Could you uh...get off the set now? Sir?"
"Fine, whatever! Just do the scene right!"

"Bdddd bown bown! Bddd bown bown....Oh, sorry...been hanging with Luke too long. And I miss my iPod..."
"Who's Luke?"
"Oh...uh...no one. Some guy I know."
"I've been waiting for you, Obi-Wan. We eat again at last."
"You could also have said 'we meat again at last, with the emphasis on meat-dark meat versus red'. That would have been a good pun, if you were the kind of person who was witty like that. But you would've ruined it with bad delivery anyway."
"It's very hard to ignore that insult, but I must. I like my job. ... The chicken is now complete."
"Good for you. Chicken. Bock, bock, bock, bock, ba-caw!"
Vader sighed. "When I left you, I was but a trainee. Now I am the Manager."
"Only a manager of chicken, Darth!"
Obi-Wan lunged with his McBig sandwich, and Vader defended with his Extra Tasty Crispy drumstick. You kinda know how that looks, right? Well they did it a bunch of times.
"Your flavor is weak, old man," Vader said.
"You can't win in a taste test, Darth. If you bite down into this sandwich, and enjoy it, other franchises will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
"You should have gone through the drive thru! Instead of asking to speak to the manager!"
Obi-Wan looked at him with sorrow. "That one really hurt...and I don't know how to get out of this situation. I sure hope Luke misses..."
"Who is Luke?"
"Look, he's no one you know! He's just a friend of mine! It's not like he's your son or something!"
"Yeah. Right. 'Cause I don't have any children. That whole...Double McGriddle sandwich incident saw to that, if I recall correctly...You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"
"No," Obi-Wan said, easing over to the trash can and shoving in the yellow McGriddle wrapper. "Of course not. Why would I be involved in that? What do I look like, a McDonalds' manager or something? French Fry Knight, okay?"
Vader turned to stare out at the stars. "Just think. Brave men and women are out there, risking their lives because they each believe in good food, served fast. They're willing to die for that belief. It kind of...makes you stop, and think." He turned to look at Obi-Wan. "I don't like McDonalds' sandwiches. They're coarse, and rough, and irritating. And the lettuce gets everywhere." He held up an Extra Tasty chicken wing. "Not like here. Here every wing is soft...and crisp..." He lifted his helmet and took a bite out of the wing.
Obi-Wan started backing away. "I think I'll leave you two alone..."