Aboard the Mexecutor, Executive Vice President Vader had called on the Bounty Paper Towels Guild to accomplish what the Imperial Darkmeat had clearly failed to clean up-the matter of capturing the Millennium Chicken & Fries and acquiring its coveted fried fish recipe.
Team Admiral Piett watched with disdain from below the command deck. "Bounty paper towels. We don't need their scum-cleaning ability."
"Yes, sir," a KFC teammate said.
"Those fast food rebels won't escape us."
A particularly used-looking Bounty roll grated out an insult. "Resh noof ouf..."
Piett paused and stared up at him, a little intimidated.
His aide interrupted. "Sir, priority signal from Five-Star Destroyer Chicken Tender."
"Right," Piett said, trying to appear as casual as possible.

Vader paced amongst the Bounty towels. "There will be a substantial roll of paper to the one who finds the Millennium Chicken & Fries. You are free to chew any flavors necessary, but I want the fish fried!" He pointed at Boba Fett. "No disintegrations!"
"As you fish-uh, I mean, wish," Boba Fett replied.
"Lord Vader!" Piett said.
"Yes, Team Admiral, what is it?" Vader replied.
"My lord, we have them."
"Can you be a little more specific? We have a lot of things on our menu."
"No, it's not on our menu-"
"Then why are we talking about it?"
"Because! It's not what's on our menu, it's what we want to put on our menu! The Millennium Fish recipe! We have them-the Millennium Chicken & Fries!"

NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA, NA NA NA NA NA, NA NA NA NA NA, NA NA NA NA NA NA!!
JOW! J-JOW!!!
Hotly pursued by the Five-Star Destroyer Chicken Tender, the Millennium Chicken & Fries dodged and weaved through the last of the Ore-Ida frozen potatoes.
"Oh, thank goodness we're coming out of the asteroid field, so I can contact my attorney!" Threepio said.
JOW! JA-JA-JOW!!
"Alright, Chewie-ready for friedspeed?"
"RROOOF!"
"One! Two! Meat!" Han turned on the oven, and it frizzed out. "It's not fair. It's not fair."
"HAAAAAARAAAAAGH-AGH!"
"Flavor circuits are working! It's not my fault!"
"No friedspeed?" Leia said.
"It's not my fault."
"You may not have noticed this, but...I don't think it MATTERS whose fault it is!"
"Sir!" Threepio said. "Our main rear deflector meal is gone! One more direct hit on the tail fin, and we're done for!"
"I thought I fired you!"
"My lawyer's issued an injunction, prohibiting such action without prior arbitration in a Tatooine Arbitration Center."
"Hammit! Turn her around!"
"ROOW?" Chewie said.
"I said, turn her around! I'm gonna put all our flour on the front meal!"
"You're gonna snack attack them?" Leia said.
"Sir," Threepio said, "the possibility of surviving a direct blast of salt from a KFC Five-Star Destroyer-"
"Shut up!" Leia shouted.
Threepio put a hand in her face. "AAAH! Wasn't talking to you!"
"That's it! I've had about enough!" Leia said. "You're gonna pull your weight around here, or I'm gonna do it for you!"
Leia grabbed Threepio and put him in a headlock. His response was an elbow to her stomach, which sent her flying back. "Please, Mistress Leia. What were you trying to do, cut off my air supply? Oh, wait, I'm a droid. Dummy."
She threw a punch at Threepio's head, which he countered with another blow to her stomach, then an awkward uppercut.
"Oh!" She stumbled out of the cookpit, Threepio closing the gap quickly. She punched Threepio in the stomach, then threw a left jab. Threepio blocked it and headbutted her.
"Ah-a!" Leia fell backwards.
Threepio rammed a knee into her and pinned her to the ground. "You're just a woman in an apron! That's why you couldn't fight KFC, and that's why you can't save this fish & chips franchise!"
"Who said anything about saving it?"
Threepio looked up to see a memo with large letters:

COMING SOON: MILLENNIUM DAIRY QUEEN, UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT

Leia reached into Threepio's wires and pulled a few out, then slammed him to the ground, holding an ice cream scoop at his head. "You never learned to mind your market's surroundings!"
Threepio's torso sparked from damage. "Have you finally learned to chew what is necessary?"
"I won't chill you. But I don't have to filet you, either!"
She removed his name tag, then fell backwards as the fish & chips franchise lurched to one side. Grabbing a bulkhead, she watched as Threepio slid right into an open oven door. The door shut behind him.
"A half-baked end, for a half-baked fiend!" Leia stared at the baking remains of Threepio for a moment, then rejoined Han in the cookpit.

"Um...why does it smell like burning metal back there?" Han said.
Leia closed the cookpit door. "So how'd we do?" The expression on her face made clear that she had no inclination of revealing the outcome of her climactic battle with Threepio.
Han tugged at his collar and tried to ignore the unsettling look on her face. "Well, we hid behind their KFC meal generator, just below the biscuits. I don't think they can see us. For the moment, we're safe. Until they get a craving for more biscuits, at least. We should get biscuits, but they should be more like Popeye's biscuits, and we should have jelly or jam to go with 'em. Agreed?"
"Good."
"You've really started something. Droids scared, Coca-Cola on the streets."
"And?"
"We still haven't rounded up half the grease we lost inside that tapeworm, or gotten half the online orders right."
"We can. We will bring back fish and chips."
"What about escalation?"
"Escalation?"
"We start buying Easy-Bake ovens, they buy automatic ovens. We start wearing aprons, they buy up all the tuna salad."
"And?"
"And you're carrying an ice cream scoop. And stealing taco sauce packets. Take this guy, for instance." Han activated his viewscreen. "Triple side orders, double buckets of chicken. Has a flair for...ice cream, like you. Leaves a calling card."
Leia took the card, which had Ben & Jerry's written on it. "I'll look into it. ... Uh...I'm not sure why we're doing this. I think people get the idea what we're parodying."
"I never got the chance to cook bacon."
"And you'll never have to."

"Track them! They may come around through a drive thru! Lock down the taco sauce! We don't want another debacle!"
"Team Captain Needa, their fish & chips no longer appear next to a Coke!"
"Impossible," Needa said. "No fish & chips franchise that small could have a Coke and fries!"
"What?"
"What?"
"...Well, there's no sign of them, sir."
Another KFC teammate jumped in. "Team Captain, Executive Vice President Vader demands an update on the pursuit."
Needa swallowed. "Get a shuttle ready. I shall stall for time, so when you find them, send me a text message so I don't have to apologize for losing them in front of Lord Vader, which would surely result in my death by chicken breast. In the meantime, continue to unload side orders of green beans in the area. If they get hungry enough for real vegetables, there's only one place in this sector with them."
The deck crew looked around. Whispers of "Huh?" and "What's he talking about?" reverberated.
"It's us!" Needa said. "KFC? Hello?"
The crew replied as one. "Oh, oh! Yeah, yeah, right..."
Needa folded his arms. "Well? Are you going to sing the motto, or what?"
The crew sighed, but Needa gestured. "Come on!"
"Everybody needs a little - hey, hey! - KFC!!"
"Thank you!"
"Uh, Team Captain?'
"Yes?"
"Are you stalling for time?"
"Yes. I am...very...much...stalling......for time."
"Team Captain, Lord Vader angrily demands an update-he said this is the last time he'll ask. Then he mentioned something about chicken-related accidental deaths being on the rise, and how tragic it would be to lose a certain Team Captain to something like that--"
"Tell him I am on my way."
"Right, sir."
"And...notify my next of kin..."