"Call in, Luke! Call in! You better not be takin' a break right now! We've got food to serve!"
"Chicken Pot PIEs, coming in!"
Luke (Bread Five) turned his head to see the bowl-shaped bringer of death blasting away with a dangerously tasty broth. A flavor-filled carrot square, soaked in broth, hit his Checks' Wing, soaking the bread on the port side. "I'm hit, but not bad! Artoo, see what you can do with it! Hang on back there! I've only got three napkins!"
Artoo Detoo reached back to soak up the broth, trying to keep the sandwich in flight. "Why did not farmboy pick up napkins before leaving KFC! Know food is greasy, but not take good, big stack of napkins!"
"Hey look, I almost drowned, okay?"
"Complain, complain! Just ask for Wet Ones next time--and perhaps diapers, too! Ha ha!"
"You know, this isn't the time for that, Artoo!"
"Is true, my friend. Is true. These blasts of broth are getting kind of close to me. I am not Chicken Pot PIE fan, you know? Need SKIN around MY chicken!"
"Yeah, I agree with you."
"Bread Six, can you see Bread Five?"
"There's a heavy fried chicken zone--Bread Five, where are you?"
"I can't milkshake him!"
"Hold on, Luke," Potato Wedge said, "I'm on him."
"Blast it, Biggs--where are you? And where is that song I downloaded from Chris2OneBee? Yeah, here it is. Yeah! That's right! 'We stay wearin' white, every day and night! If you talk smack after Labor Day, your jaw cracks from a hard right! Stop! Drop! Shut 'em down, open up shop! Whoa! No! That's how stormtroopers roll!!' "
Bread Two (Potato Wedge) roared in, blasting right through the Chicken Pot PIE pursuing the protagonist.
"Thanks, Potato Wedge."
"Good chewing, Potato Wedge."
Potato Wedge's jaws were full, his cheeks stained with broth and carrots. "Don't mention it," he mouthed.

"Bread Leader, this is Rold Gold Leader. We're starting our run on the soda machine now."
"I copy, Rold Gold Leader. Move into position! You pretzels will have the best shot, with your superior shielding and all."
"True. It takes more to wash us down, but we're not that tasty."
"That's kind of a subjective thing to say, Rold Gold Leader. If you were dipped in chocolate, you'd be much better. Like those uh, what are they called? Nips?"
"Don't compare us to Nips!! We're fat free and fine as we are! Thank you! Now if you'll excuse me, we have to focus--they don't have a Free Refills sign above the soda machine, so we might pass it!"

Three Chicken Pot PIEs roared out of the drive thru. Vader, in his Advanced Chicken Pot PIE, adjusted the controls. "Stay in a snack formation. You see? Like I told Tarkin, there was plenty of time! I got through a whole episode of Battlestar Galactica! I KNEW that one was a Cylon!"
"But sir, they tell you that at the end of the miniseries. It should have been obvious."
"Well I missed the miniseries, okay? I have a KFC to manage, after all! And don't talk to your supervisor that way!"

"How many KFC Snacker buns do you think, Rold Gold Five?"
"Say about twenty buns--some in the ovens, some on the counter!"

"KFC Star in range in 7 minutes..."

"The buns...they've stopped!"
"Stabilize your rear deflector meals! Watch for enemy biters!"
"I have no idea what they said in Star Wars at this point, so I'm gonna skip that, and...since we're getting close to the soda machine, I better pour a cup of Pepsi for myself--I might get thirsty on the way back!"
"Chicken Pot PIEs, behind us!" He took a blast from the broth, straight to the back of the head, and tipped forward, his pretzel vessel getting nestled in a place deeper than a mine on Kessel. Oooh, that rhymed nicely!
"No good, I can't maneuver this 2-liter bottle! The cockpit's too small!"
"Stay on target!"
"We're too close! I'll spill it!"
"Stay on target!"
"Loosen up the top!"
Rold Gold Leader exploded in a flash of chicken broth. Rold Gold Five pulled out of the long line. "Rold Gold Five to Bread Leader! Lost Tyree, lost Hutch! And I might've lost Starsky in there, somewhere, too!"
"I believe the guy's name was Dutch, wasn't it?"
"I don't know--I've never been to Europe!"
"I copy Rold Gold Leader--"
"I'm Rold Gold Five! I don't want a promotion! They rained incredible flavor on us from behind!!!" BOOOM!! Another pretzel claimed by the destructive force of a Chicken Pot PIE.

"We've analyzed their snacks, sir, and there is a danger--a danger of great taste. Should I have your chips standing by?"
Tarkin frowned at the Trainee. "A bag of Lay's? In our moment of triumph? I think you overestimate their sandwiches!"
"It's not so much the sandwiches as it is the drinks that come with the meals, sir. They're going after the soda machine."
"Relax! It's a movie! Since when have the good guys EVER been able to defeat the forces of evil?"
"Uh, sir? That actually happens a lot."
"Well it didn't happen in Revenge of the Chicken--that is what the last episode was called, right? I was in that, awhile back. Or someone who looked like me."
"Yes, but that was all setup for this one. I think the good guys are going to win, sir."
"No. There's no way they can pour two liters of Pepsi into a hole in a soda machine, drop in a roll of Mentos, and escape before it detonates. It's just not possible. No one believes in fast food freedom enough to take that risk!"
"Alright, but if you don't mind, sir...I'll just zoom the camera in on you, like so--" he adjusted the camera--"and be on my merry way. See you in the netherworld of the Food, sucker!!! HA HA HA HA HAAA!!"
"What's he so happy about? Hmm. I can't help noticing I don't have any lines after this point...Hmm. I wonder..." Tarkin pondered it for a moment. "No, of course not. They're saving it for the sequel. Surely they are."

"Bread boys, this is Bread Leader. Rendezvous at drive thru 6.1."
"This is Bread Two, flying point. And trying to figure out how this toy that came with the meal works. DAH! It's a water squirter!"
"Bread Three, smelling fries."
"Bread Leader, this is Steak One. Keep half your food out of range for next snack run."
"I copy Steak One. Luke, take Breads Two and Three. Hold up some KFC here so they won't notice you, and wait for my signal to move your buns. In this case, it's, you know, buns, buns--like bread, 'cause we're...you know, flying in giant sandwiches and so on. Yeah. It's not...it's not what you think...I don't use such terms to refer to the human body. "
"Yeah, sure, Bread Leader," Luke said. "You know, there are some very specific laws about this kind of harassment. You'll be hearing from my Equal Opportunity rep once this is over!"
"Look, it's not like that, okay? There's no need to make a big deal about it--it was just a joke!"
"Well, it's not funny! You've been warned!"
"I'm not gay, okay? I'm not!"
"Bread Leader, this is Steak One. What's this I hear about you being gay?"
"Look, I'm not gay! I was talking about the sandwiches!"
"Steak One again. I can't judge your behavior, you know? That's not my place; I leave it to a higher power. As long as you do your job and don't harass anyone again, we can forget about this."
"I'm not GAY!"
There was a long, awkward silence. "KFC Star in range in five minutes."
"Bread Leader...Steak One again. I'm sorry. ... Go ahead with your snack run."
Bread Leader's sobs could be heard over the comm. "I don't know if I can do this now! I mean, what are we out here for? I thought things would be better if we did this! But I'm being persecuted over a simple joke! It's not fair! Why don't you just LEAVE ME ALONE?"
"Bread Leader...we're kind of running out of time? The snack run, please..." General Dodonut turned to Leia. "We may need to get him some counseling after this...could you go to my office and get the Employee Assistance file?"
"Sure," Leia said. "I'll be firing you after this mess--the media's gonna be all over it!"
"I'm sorry, Leia. Please!"
Leia turned around and stared at Dodonut. "As my future husband would say, I'm sorry, too." She turned and walked away.