After the Emperor finally passed a bill allowing lesbian Stormtroopers within the Death Star, Stacy and Chantelle rushed to their quarters to celebrate. Tragically, Chantelle died the following day on Endor when she ventured south into the bush and was attacked by a viscous pack of Ewoks.

After finishing work, Claude, the Death Star’s in house baker, is proud to present an example of his work to the cameraman. Although Claude has passed his Level 1 Stormtrooper exams, he prefers the feel of warm dough to that of a cold E-11 blaster rifle in his delicate artisan hands. When he’s not revising for his Level 2 Stormtrooper exams or working in the Imperial bakery, Claude is Dungeon Master at the Sector 12B Roll Playing Games Club. Claude also enjoys badminton and reading.

After persistently complaining about the lack of recreational park land within the Death Star, Patrick was incensed with his demotion to “Prototype Helmet Tester”. Despite his punishment, the proud environmentalist vowed to continue to fight for his cause, as well as supporting the Pro Allotment Union and the League of Extraordinary Ramblers. Patrick also sings in the Imperial choir and likes to write poetry.

After a long day blasting Rebel Alliance x-wing star fighters, Geoff likes nothing better than to pop on his grey blazer, cravat and safety helmet and to go for a leisurely skate around the cargo hold. Despite the fact Darth Vader recently banned roller skating on the Death Star (to stem the growing number of unnecessary personal insurance claims) Geoff lives for the thrill of free wheeling across the pristine polished floors. Geoff commented “When I skate, I’m free. Plus it’s a great way to meet other guys!”

Regrettably with so many men in one confined space, sexual tension runs high on the Death Star. To help “facilitate” the staff who don’t turn gay with time, it is understood that Protocol Droids were retrofitted with fully functioning sex organs. The covert practice of creating these “Shagbots” for staff jollification has always been strenuously denied by Death Star spokesmen; however, the grainy still frame from a night vision surveillance camera clearly shows a Tie fighter’s penchant for robot bootie.

With the author still working undercover, watch out for more “behind the scenes” investigations…

First someone in Romania emailed to advise they could whiten my yellowing teeth, then a guy in South Africa told me he knew how to reduce my weight, followed by someone in Canada offering me Viagra to keep me “hard as a bollard” all night. I don’t know how, but it seems like the whole world knows my most intimate problems and my email address!

Luckily I’ve had an offer of financial support from a very polite banker in Nigeria, so now I’ve sent him my bank details I should be able to afford all the pills I need. Shortly I will be able to temporarily blind innocent onlookers with my radiant smile, reduce my waistline to a size zero, and transform my shrinking pork sword into a weapon of mass destruction.

Thank goodness for the ease and security of electronic mail.