The Mother of All Spam Threads

“It’s the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs. I’ve outrun Imperial starships. Not the local bulk cruisers, mind you. I’m talking about the big Corellian ships, now. She’s fast enough for you, old man.” — Han Solo
 
“When gone am I, the last of the Jedi will you be. The Force runs strong in your family. Pass on what you have learned.” — Yoda
 
“I’ll never turn to the dark side. You’ve failed, your highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” — Luke Skywalker
 
The Narrator: Stanley worked for a company in a big building where he was Employee #427. Employee #427's job was simple: he sat at his desk in room 427 and he pushed buttons on a keyboard. Orders came to him through a monitor on his desk, telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order. This is what Employee #427 did every day of every month of every year, and although others might have considered it soul rending, Stanley relished every moment the orders came in, as though he had been made exactly for this job. And Stanley was happy.
 
The Narrator: And then one day, something very peculiar happened. Something that would forever change Stanley; something he would never quite forget. He had been at his desk for nearly an hour when he realized that not one single order had arrived on the monitor for him to follow. No one had shown up to give him instructions, call a meeting, or even say 'hi.' Never in all his years at the company had this happened, this complete isolation. Something was very clearly wrong.
 
The Narrator: Shocked, frozen solid, Stanley found himself unable to move for the longest time. But as he came to his wits and regained his senses, he got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.
 
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