Red Lisp 3: I’m going in! Cover me Porkins.

Red Porkins 2: I’m with you, Red Lisp 3

(The two dive and level out just below the surface of the object. It is glossy, covered with bags of silcone, shiny brass armor plating, stunning nude women covered by glass bubbles, and laser cannons.)

Red Lisp 3: Jezuth, look at that! It’s the size of a Pollack washerwoman’s behind, I tell you!

Red Porkins 2: Right with you…um…got a problem here.

Red Lisp 3: Eject!

Red Porkins 2: I can hold it…I’ve got Clausen…and recruits…

Red Lisp 3: Come to television! It’s eathy!

Red Porkins 2: No…I just need more….time.

Imperial Cannoneer Carroll: I’m so jacked to be shooting down this fighter.

[Fires Rey Maualuga from cannon.]

Red Lisp 3: What’s the thtate theal of Baltimore doing on my helmet?

Red Porkins 2: AAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Cannoneer Carroll: WIN FOREVER!!!!!

Red Lisp 3: Aw, come on! You named him Porkinth! He didn’t thtand a chance to begin with!

(A floating, half-eaten chicken sandwich bounces off the cockpit of the X-wing into the cold void of space.)