They enter Obi-Wan Kenobi's hut, as the HoloNet is still playing. "Oh, dear--I forgot to put in a holodisk to record the show! Blast!"

"...Until next time, on Straight From the Force's Mouth! Coming up next is the 10,000 Club!"

"Why don't you, uh, work on Threepio for awhile, until this is over. Pat Milkinson has a statement to the galaxy this time!"
"Uh...sure," Luke says, then mutters to himself. "Crazy old fool..."
"You know, I can hear that." Obi-Wan's hand drops towards the McBig sandwich. "Don't force me to chew this."
"Sorry, sir. Forget I said it...." Luke turns to work on Threepio.
Threepio starts struggling against Luke's prodding tools. "Hey! Hands off the merchandise! I told you I didn't pass out or fall down! You did! Over some no doubt stale bread from Subway!"

Obi-Wan nods at the HoloNet and listens.
"...and I tell you, my French Fry brothers, we are going to RETURN! I have foreseen that! Emperor Palpatine is all but defeated! We will mass together as one and blow him away in the name of the Food! Despite being French Fries, we must use senseless violence to achieve our means! I swear to you in the name of the Food, the Chosen Bun, and the Holy Biscuit, that this shall come to pass!!!"

Luke glares over at Obi-Wan. "How can you listen to that nutcase?"
"It's either this, or read lines from the script. This was the easiest way to get myself more screen time."
"But you're not saying anything."
"I am now."
"Well, I'm going to read the script, I can't deal with this radical French Frite stuff he's spouting." He flips open the 'Food Wars' script. "Let me see...oh. Here we are. My father didn't bite chicken in the Wars. He was a navigator on a spice freighter--it was a Mrs. Dash freighter, I think."
"That's what your uncle told you. He didn't like your father's meals, thought he should have fileted here and not gotten involved."
"You fought in the Cloned Food Wars?"
"Yes. I was once a French Fry Knight the same as your father."
"I wish I'd known him."
"He was the best fast food guy in the galaxy. And a cunning chef. I understand you've become quite a good frier yourself. ...And he was a good friend. Which reminds me. I have something here for you. Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but the expiration date wouldn't allow it. He feared you might get salmonella because of some fool not looking at the expiration date like your father did."




AAAH! This is so short. I'm sorry, guys. I've been neglecting you...I'll catch up soon enough. But I'm doing alright. I would blog about something cool that's just happened, but...ah, never mind....I better go. Hope you like this a little bit.