Twas The Night Of The ‘Star Wars’ Holiday Special


Welcome back to Junkfood Cinema; there arose such a taco platter. This is the broad-faced, round-bellied bad movie column that mines the lustre of greatness from schlock of even the dimmest merit. We tear open the stinker, throw up its faults, but in those wildly flaunted faults we find a bundle of enjoyment. As if that weren’t enough for all our readers on the nice list, or the naughty list (let’s face it), we then pair the movie with a unseasonably fattening snack food item guaranteed to eventually make you shake when you laugh at our terrible puns.

If ever there were a holiday film worthy of being called ho-ho-horrible, it’s the infamous Star Wars Holiday Special. Instead of lamenting on and on about the innumerable woes of this holly jolly abortion, which would require several ticks off your sadvent calendar, it seemed more appropriate to gather everyone around the fire place, as the sugar cookie Pop Tarts roast away, and read you the classic story Twas The Night Of The Star Wars Holiday Special by Verily Ann Author. This is a real book that really exists for good and true but don’t look it up because that’s mean.

*Grabs comically over-sized pipe and clears alarmingly whiskey-ravaged throat*

Twas a few nights before Christmas, and from each room with glee
Came the kids to watch the Star Wars special on TV
The children got nestled on the couch in their places
With tauntaun-sized smiles on their stupid kid faces

Anticipation was high, it couldn’t be capped
But not even Akbar could’ve warned of this trap
For what to their wondering eyes should appear?
But the worst thing to happen to their brain stems that year

It started out fine, with characters they all knew
Through familiar galaxies far far away they flew
They so loved that movie, eighteen months before
Now two years ’til Empire, they thrilled at getting more

The rapid steel falcon, fighters could not intercept
That which made the kessel run in less than twelve parsecs
With a scruffy young driver possessed of such brawn
They knew in a moment it just had to be Han

And then came an inkling not all was divine
Production values seemed tragically bankrupt at times
Stock footage soon spent, kid-dopes leaned nearer the set,
The inserts shot in the backseat of a Chevette

Not Solo, Skywalker, not D2 nor Leia
Would be, as no kids say, our featured playa’
Our story would center on denizens of Kashyyyk
Chewy’s apparent family, no English do they speak

His wife called Malla, all tarnished with dried feces
Son Lumpy’s voice dulcet as swarms of killer bees(es)
And father Itchy, his beard so long white and curvy
You’d never have guessed this old bugger’s so pervy

For strapped to a hair dryer, he goes all icky and feral
As he watches a projection of singer Diahann Carol
While you may not agree with what winds Itchy’s crank,
It would be best for all to let the wookie wank.

But Lumpy’s no better, that furry little shit
Who looks like a Care Bear that porked Cousin It
When he’s not busy gob-farting a sick donkey’s bray
He views 3D Cirque du Flamboyantly Gay

The real stars were present, in sad cameos
While mountains of powder went up Carrie’s nose
And poor Mark Hamill, escaping vehicular doom
Is done up to look like a lesbian mushroom

The family Fuzzball, amid Land of the Lost mattes
Pine for poor Chewbacca to return from combat
For despite the Empire labeling him insurgent,
Getting home for Life Day, Chewy finds most urgent

This safely secular festival of joy and of fun
Finds wookies in their space cathedral on the sun
Prior to that, and we stress the presence of blow,
Chewbacca family “star”-studded variety show?

And what better way to show the youth that you’re hip
Than by booking Art Carney and Jefferson Starship?
There too, a cooking show broadcast from deep space
With funnyman Harvey Corman wearing…blackface?

To introduce Boba in cartoon is quite ballsy
Too bad it looks drawn by Ralph Baskshi with palsy
Lumpy watches his dad’s own adventure on telly
On a planet as viscous as a bowl full of jelly

Imperial soldiers into Kashyyyk come creeping
Hunting Chewie and Han when not busy antiquing
But when Life Day climax brings singing most off-key
Soldiers bested by, well, on that we’re still hazy

The tots drew in their eyes, near plucked from their heads
Aghast at the excremental buffet they’d been fed
Two-minute New Hope recap would not cleanse their palates
They set to work de-rounding their skulls with large mallets

Dad sprang to the TV, mom dared not to nag
Then he dashed it to pieces on the carpet of shag
They heard Lucas exclaim, ‘ere the credits scrolled out of sight
“This drug-addled bastard shant again see daylight”

Junkfood Pairing: C3P-Os


Possibly only slightly less difficult to find than a viable VHS copy of the Star Wars Holiday Special is this short-lived sugary marketing ploy. Is it anywhere near as weird as the holiday special? No. However, it does combine the great tastes of honey, oats, nickel-plated copper, and closeted romantic feelings for one’s counterbot.

Brian Salisbury has been a film critic and internet gadfly for six years. He is the co-host of FSR's Junkfood Cinema podcast and the co-founder of OneOfUs.Net. Brian is a cult film and exploitation buff who loves everything from Charlie Chaplin to Charlie Bronson.

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