Been busy for awhile, sorry about that. I'll see what I can write in what's left of the lunch break. The fateful meeting, which will set the course of the greatest food fight ever recorded in the history of the galaxy, is now to begin...

The hooded man, bearing the tiniest of golden arches on his sleeve, approaches the unconscious Luke. He takes a sip of his vanilla and chocolate milkshake--as manager, he can get them mixed with relative ease. But officially, customers are told that 'it's against policy to mix milkshakes'. He can't resist a smile. Truly, I'm lovin' it.
He looks up, and lowers his hood, looking at R2-D2. "Hello, there. May I take your order? Or have you already been served?"
R2-D2 stares. "Beep, whistle?"
"Whistle, wh-beep!"
"You speak the pure language of the ancients! You are Kenobi!"
"Yes, but don't tell anyone. I'm kind of a...wanted manager."
Luke wakes up. "Ben? Ben Kenobi? Boy am I glad to see you. I could sure go for a McChicken Sandwich right now!"
"The Dollar Menu is not to be handled lightly. Tell me, young Luke, what brings you out this far? Do you really like McDonalds' that much?"
"I'd like to say that was true, but I was really just looking for this little droid. He seems to be making good coffee, but I've never tasted such great flavor coming out of a droid before."
Artoo nods. "Beep, beep!"
"He claims to be the property of an Obi-Wan Kenobi. Is he a relative of yours? Or is it really you, given how poorly you've disguised your identity?"
"Obi-Wan Kenobi? Obi-Wan...now that's a name I've not seen on a name tag in a long time...a long time."
"I think my uncle knows him. He said he ate fried chicken."
"Oh no, he's not fed...not, not yet."
"So you know him? I'm just pretending to be this dumb; I know you know him. I mean, who doesn't know, by now? They've already seen what you did to my father, after all--"
"Well, of course I know him. He's me." Obi-Wan Kenobi glares at him. "He was the one who thought he could cook KFC with two pounds of grease. Did he expect anything less than a huge fire? I mean, come on. And the next time you go off the script, you'll get smacked up with a Big 'N Tasty."
"Do they still make those?"
"Maybe. If you go way down South, who knows? Some places on the coast, they make crab cakes. I can't speak for all franchises, you know. And I haven't gone by the name of Obi-Wan since...I had to declare bankruptcy before you were born."
"So the droid does belong to you, then. I'd heard you guys had better coffee. Now I know why."
"Don't seem to remember ever owning a droid--or cloning one, either, which would be equally as cool. Very interesting. Although awhile back, I did go to this facility where they were cloning KFC. The story was called 'Attack of the Cloned Food', and when traitorous McDonalds' employees had us surrounded, the cloned wings showed up and filled everyone with finger-lickin' good chicken that was full of growth hormones. It was pretty nasty, what happened after that...they grew a little too much, and...well...ka-pow...stomachs exploding, that sort of thing. I was kind of worried about cloned food, but nowadays, thankfully, it's a mixture of cloned chickens and whatever else we can find that's not cloned."
"AAAAH AAA!"
"Oh. I think we bettter get indoors. Sandwich People are easily startled, but they'll soon be back, and with greater cucumbers."
Luke looks around. "Wait, what about Threepio?"
Threepio sidles up. "What about me? I didn't get hit with a footlong piece of bread and pass out like a sucker!"
"What?"
"Nothing, sir. Nothing at all."
Obi-Wan gets in the speeder. "Quickly, they're on the move. I'll steal your speeder and abandon you all if you don't hurry. That's how we McDonalds managers roll. Like straight thugs. And what you gonna do about that, son? Huh?"
"Alright," Luke said, and he and the droids got in the speeder. "I see you get to take liberties with the script...I need to find a better agent..."
The speeder drives off.
In the distance, the Sandwich People swing their bread high in the air. "You'll never escape Toast Rider! Neveeeer!"