NARRATOR: The Milky Way Galaxy is a big place. So big, in fact, that attempting to tell its story would be a job for God, or maybe Robert Jordan.
ELF: Sarge, gimme some suppressing fire down Elm Street.
SCHLOCK: *shouting* EAT HOT SUPPRESSION, PSYCHO-BEARS!
SFX: THOOOM
NARRATOR: It's the smaller stories that interest us. The galactic mega-epic is just an out-of-focus backdrop for individual heroes and villians.
NARRATOR: Of course, there was this one time when the fate of the entire Milky Way hung on the actions of a few undercompensated people...
ELF: If I'd wanted the heavy stuff, I'd have called Petey for some gravy.
NARRATOR: This was one of those rare cases where a little story had a very, very, very big ending...
SCHLOCK: If you didn't want the heavy stuff, you shouldn't have asked me.
NARRATOR: ... or maybe where the big story has a very, very small beginning...
ELF: Chain o' command, Sergeant. You were s'posed to delegate.
SCHLOCK: Quit complaining, lieutenant. My suppressing fire worked. They're suppressed now.
ELF: Suppressed, yeah. And on fire. We want prisoners, not a barbecue.
NARRATOR: or perhaps where a modest story had a really shiny cover, and you bought it, and after reading it you looked back at the cover and thought "Hey... that wasn't even in there."
OB'ENN GRUNT 1: Stop, drop, and roll! Stop, drop, and roll!
OB'ENN GRUNT 2: Go get some water! Go get some water!