(My boss has called me and my X-Wing fighter squadron in for a briefing.)

Boss: “Okay, guys, so we’re going to send you guys in to attack the Death Star.”

Coworker: “Woah, that doesn’t sound like a friendly place.”

Boss: “It’s not that bad. It’s just the main battle station of the Empire.”

Coworker #2: “A space station? Okay, as long as it’s not a Star Destroyer.”

Boss: “No, no, nothing like that. Although it does have about a dozen Star Destroyer’s protecting it.”

Coworker: “Wait, but–”

Boss: “So, you’re going to go in with a squad, and take it out.”

Coworker #2: “What kind of Battle Station is this?”

Boss: “Well… it’s round.”

Coworker #2: “It’s round?”

Boss: “And slightly bigger than average.”

Coworker #2: “Slightly bigger?”

Boss: “Just a smidge.”

Coworker #2: “And how do we attack it?”

Boss: “Well, you see, there’s this trench. It’s got some guns along it and even though you can approach it from any angle you want in space, we’d like you to fly along this trench where you can shot at from above and in front.”

Me: “Uh, boss? How about–”

Boss: “And then we need you to blast some proton torpedoes into this hole-thingy.”

Me: “But boss–”

Boss: “Yup. A nice easy target.”

Me: “But why can’t we just fly in from above and–”

Boss: “Oh, and one more thing. You’ll be taking some kid with you.”

Coworker: “A kid? On a bombing run? Into war?”

Boss: “Yeah, I know. It’s a bummer, but I think he’s like some snotty brother of the CEO or something. We don’t really have a choice.”

Coworker: “But does he even know how to fly?”

Boss: “He mentioned something about Womp Rats?”

Coworker: “What the f*** is a Womp Rat?”

Boss: “I don’t know. Apparently it’s relevant.”

Coworker: “I don’t like this plan.”

Me: “Exactly! We’re in space where we can fly in any direction we want. Why can’t we just–”

Boss: “Okay, so if there are no more questions…”

Coworker: “Can I just ask one thing?”

Boss: *sighs* “Make it quick.”

Coworker: “We’re just going to give this kid one of our fighters? Just like that? They’re valuable pieces of kit.”

Boss: “I suppose you have a point. Fine, give him the old X-Wing. That thing’s targeting computer has a habit of turning itself off but I doubt the little jerk will need it…”

(I am a contracted builder, and have had several lucrative Imperial contracts over the years. I finally get back to the office after working for a few years on a super-big contract. My secretary calls me over.)

Secretary: “The Empire is withholding the final payment.”

Me: “What? Why?”

Secretary: “Regarding the last contract you just finished. Something to do with patching up a two-meter hole?”

Me: “Oh, that. Yeah, I just spent the last few years helping construct hundreds of kilometers of classified Empire battle-station and I got to the last two meters and thought it wouldn’t make much difference. Seriously, who is going to notice a little two-meter hole?”

Secretary: “Well, they’re withholding payment because of it; what would you like me to do?”

Me: “Meh, don’t worry about it. The last payment isn’t that much and I doubt the hole will affect anything.”

Secretary: “Are you sure? They said they would make an example of you.”

Me: “Tell you what. I’m going on vacation to Alderaan next week and I don’t want to deal with this right now. Tell them that and that I’ll be in touch when I get back.”

Secretary: “All right, it’s your funeral…”

(I am a gunner on an Imperial Star Destroyer. We have just captured a rebel ship in orbit around Tatooine and we’re on high alert. Suddenly, the rebel ship launches an escape pod. I go over the the captain and another gunner on duty to see what happened:)

Gunner #1: There goes another one.

Captain: “Hold your fire. There are no life forms. It must have been short-circuited.”

Me: “Uhm…”

Captain: *turns to me* “You have something to say, gunner?”

Me: “Don’t you think you shouldn’t be taking any chances?”

Captain: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, we’ve just captured a rebel ship, a ship we haven’t finished searching yet. Don’t you think we should be taking any escape pods jettisoning as more than just circumstantial?”

Captain: “But there were no life forms.”

Me: “They could be blocking the scans. I know of a way to do that.”

Captain: “Well, it was probably nothing.”

Me: “Or it could be everything. For all you know by not shooting down that escape pod, you might have set into motion a string of events that will eventually lead to the rise of the Jedi, the destruction of the Empire, and the death of our Emperor.”

Captain: “Meh, my shift is almost over. Let the next shift worry about it…”

(I have just got a new light-saber, but it doesn’t seem to be working properly. I have taken it back into the shop to get it looked at. The tech looks to be lazily reading a magazine.)

Me: “Hi, I am having trouble with my light-saber.”

(The tech sighs heavily, slowly down the magazine, and gives me the barest of acknowledgements.)

Light-Saber Tech: “Have you tried using the Force?”

Me: “What?”

Light-Saber Tech: “Have you tried using the Force? Sometimes that can help.”

Me: “Well, of course I have. I’m a Jedi!”

Light-Saber Tech: “Have you tried turning the Force off and on again?”

Me: “Uh… no.”

Light-Saber Tech: “Maybe you should try.”

Me: “No, you see, you can’t actually do that.”

Light-Saber Tech: “Well, I have my trouble-shooting guide here, and it’s one of the key causes of most light-saber glitches.”

Me: “Yes, well, this is a bit more of a glitch.”

Light-Saber Tech: “Well, what is it then?”

Me: “It’s gone red.”

Light-Saber Tech: “Red, sir?”

Me: “Yes, my light-saber has turned all red. As you can imagine, it can be terribly embarrassing, what with me being a Jedi and all.”

Light-Saber Tech: “Have you maybe considered just turning to the dark side?”

Me: “Are you serious?!”

Light-Saber Tech: “Well my trouble-shooting guide says–”

Me: “Your trouble-shooting guide advises me to become a Sith, does it?”

Light-Saber Tech: “Well, I can’t see why it would be such an issue.”

Me: “I am a Jedi! My job is to uphold peace and justice in the galaxy! The sith are evil and bad and go around murdering people!”

Light-Saber Tech: “Well… have you maybe considered–”

Me: “Going around murdering people? No, not until very recently…”

(I have just started working with a crew of cargo loaders/unloaders at the spaceport. As the new guy I have a lot to learn, but the crew seems friendly and doesn’t mind me asking a lot of questions.)

Boss: “Okay, so handle this cargo with care. It’s top quality Bantha fodder.”

Me: “Will do!”

Boss: “It’s perishable, so we’re going to make a very quick hyperspace jump. Ever heard of the Kessel Run?”

Me: “Nope. What’s that?”

Boss: “It’s the quickest way to get the cargo to the buyer. We should be able to make it in about fourteen parsecs or so.”

Me: “What?”

Boss: “That’s how long it should take.”

Me: “But… a parsec is a unit of—”

Boss: “The pilot told me he would be able to do it quicker, and get it done in twelve, but I don’t believe him.”

Me: “That’s all well and good, but in terms of time, a parsec isn’t much help because—”

Boss: “To be honest, I’d never heard of the Kessel Run until I met this pilot either, but he promised quick delivery, so I’m giving him the bonus rate.”

Me: “Bonus rate? Because he could get the job done in… less than fourteen parsecs?”

Boss: “I know! Amazing right?”

Me: “But you’d never even heard of the Ke—”

Boss: “Anyhow, less chatting, more working.”

Me: “Right.”

(I understood right there and then that my boss had been fooled by this ‘pilot,’ but I wasn’t going to argue. I eventually see the pilot and can’t help but comment.)

Me: “Hey, I overheard that you can make the Kessel Run in less than fourteen parsecs.”

Pilot: “Twelve!” *looks at me disdainfully and repeats my number with contempt* “Fourteen…”

Me: “So, I think I am the only one in this galaxy that knows that a parsec is a unit of distance, and not time.”

(The pilot looks me up and down, and then smiles.)

Pilot: “Listen, kid. When it comes to negotiating a price, you have to shoot first. And I always shoot first…” *he then looks up into the sky, as if angrily directing his words to some unseen force in the sky* “…and I always have!”