So it is that we now find VADER on an outlying world, being pushed toward a doorway by a slight, balding man of middle years in a natty suit...

VADER: (to man) I'm not sure about this, Myrum.

MYRUM: You've got to start somewhere, Skywalker. Just remember the spiel.

(As MYRUM backs off, VADER steps forward and hesitantly knocks on the door. A few moments later, a woman opens the door.)

VADER: Pardon me, but is the lady of the house home?

WOMAN: I *am* the lady of the house.

VADER: Oh. My apologies. The chin-hair threw me off.

WOMAN: What do you want?

VADER: I'm glad you asked me that, madam. I'm here selling Reconstituted Rancor Powder--another great product from the folks at Craptacular Enterprises.

WOMAN: I don't want--

VADER: It makes a lovely after-dinner snack. And you can clean your gutters with it!

WOMAN: Not interes--

VADER: And if you order in the next ten minutes, we'll double your order--AND throw in the Super Shammy absolutely free!

(The WOMAN closes the door in VADER's face. VADER stands there a moment, then heads back down the walkway to where MYRUM waits.) VADER: She doesn't seem to want any, Myrum.

MYRUM: (sighing and rolling his eyes) Vader, what's our motto here at Craptacular Enterprises?

VADER: The customer is always right?

MYRUM: The other motto.

VADER: Never take no for an answer.

MYRUM: Exactly. Now--

VADER: But don't those contradict each other?

MYRUM: Did you just interrupt me?

VADER: I'm just saying, if the customer says "no", and they're always right, shouldn't we leave them al--

(MYRUM yanks VADER'S cape, forcing the taller man to lean down toward him.)

MYRUM: Listen, buddy. I know what you're used to. You're used to being Mr. Big Shot, aren't you? Mr. "Right Hand Man to the Emperor". Mr. "I command entire fleets and can destroy planets with impunity." Aren't you?

VADER: Yes.

MYRUM: Well, listen up: You're in MY world, now. Here, it's all about ME--Myrum T. Hernblecker. Craptacular Enterprises' Salesman of the Year thirty-three years in a row. I don't even know what's in this stuff we're selling, but you could create several planets from the amount I've sold. I'm THAT good. So when I tell you, my apprentice, to do something, you'd better do it. And I'm telling you to get back there and make this sale.

VADER: (muttering as he walks away) ...Thirty-three years; la-de-freakin' da...

MYRUM: I heard that!

(VADER goes back to the door, knocks again. The WOMAN opens the door, glares at him.)

VADER: Hello, again. Perhaps if I explained some more of the benefits of--

WOMAN: Listen, Wheezy. I'm not interested, okay? So go sell your cookies or whatever somewhere else.

(She slams the door.)

VADER: (muttering) Never take no for answer. Never take no for an answer...

(He knocks on the door, harder this time. The woman yanks it open.)

VADER: Did you notice the delightful cartoon Rancor on the box...?

WOMAN: LEAVE! (she slams the door.)

(VADER stares at the door a moment...glances back over toward MYRUM...then turns back to the door. He makes a slight motion with his hand, and the door explodes inward in a shower of splinters. He strides inside, to find the startled woman goggling at him.)

WOMAN: What do you want?! Are you crazy?!

VADER: Madam, I'm simply here to sell you a fine, quality product. Now, are you going to buy some, or am I going to have to put your family in carbonite?

(A few minutes later, holding a fist full of credits, VADER returns to MYRUM.)

MYRUM: (wiping a tear from his eye) That was just beautiful...

VADER: Thank you.

(MYRUM grasps VADER's shoulders tightly, stares at him intently.)

MYRUM: I can see it now, my apprentice...with our combined power, no one will be able to resist us! The galaxy is ours! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

VADER: Oh, man. Why do I always pick the crazy ones...?

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