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Holiday Review: Santa’s Slay December 21, 2008

Posted by skribbel24 in WWE.

From White Vans And Candy by James Walker

I’ve always wanted to contribute more reviews and such, but I’ve always wondered how I could go about this… and then, as I was in Blockbuster, opportunity slapped me across the face like a hooker when you hand her a wad of monopoly money. Yes folks, I laid my eyes upon THIS:

If you didn’t laugh at that, get the fuck out of this column. If you did…


Before I begin to describe this movie, I need you all to stop laughing about the concept of BILL GOLDBERG as AN EVIL SANTA. Get all the Jewish irony out of your system, and even the fact that he’s only ever briefly played a heel. Laugh it up. Here, I’ll help you with a picture.

… you good yet? No?

Ok, I think we can start.

Okay, so. The movie starts off none other than FRAN DRESCHER AND CHRIS KATTAN. Cause, you know when a film begins with The Nanny and Corky Romano, it’s got to be good. Ol’ Billy manages to break up a Christmas dinner by breaking through the fireplace, perform a forward roll on the dinner table (it’s the most athletic Bill has ever looked) and somehow murder the entire family. Not just normal murder, oh no, we’re talkin’ a flaming Fran, a drumstick brain squish, and in a moment of hilarity, he kills Chris Kattan with an errant kick. See Bret? You didn’t have it SO bad!

Now, we get a little bit of explainin’. We find out that Santa is actually the son of Satan, and exactly one thousand years ago, Whisker Biscuits himself lost a bet with an angel, damning him to be good & kind, and give gifts to every child of the world once a year. However, the bet had worn off, and now there was Hell to pay. (Oh, by the way, the town is called Hell. Just cause, I suppose) Now, you may be asking yourself… what kind of epic bet did Satan’s own flesh & blood place before an angel to create these severe repercussions? Maybe wager to prove the true alignment of the human spirit? Or maybe even a battle between them, to determine the ethereal heavyweight champion of the world? Nope…


You heard me. The sport where you push a rock down ice and use brooms to modify the smoothness of the path was the deciding battle that gave rise to Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick. Fuck that Coca-Cola shit.

The male lead’s grandfather knows all of this information, and only he. Oh, he’s also a “crazy inventor”, which isn’t stereotypical of B-movies at all, right? Right? We casually grace over a “Chestnut Gun”, which Grandpa explains works on the principle that “a chestnut has explosive properties if it’s heated without puncturing the skin”. Same thing can be said about my penis, but I don’t use it as a weapon.. often.

Anywho, the main character – Nicholas Yuleson (how ironic that he’s now fighting for the honor of Christmas?!!!1) – works in a Jewish deli with some chick. Let’s call her… Twinksters. Sounds reasonable to me. Twinksters has a thing for Nick, but Nick is an oblivious cunt who would rather go home to his crusty grandfather, than go get some sweet, sweet not-really-underage-but-let’s-pretend nookie. Seriously.

Basically, Goldberg goes around and kills people for 45 minutes. Whether it be by squishing them with his evil-bison reindeer, throwing a Christmas tree star like a ninja, or by tapping into the great explosive know as “lumps of coal”, Santa is knockin’ off the naughty list. Oh, speaking of naughty, the film’s highlight comes when Goldberg goes to a strip club. Barging in, uttering the line “hoes hoes hoes!”, and proceeding to beat down the silicone into a fine mush. All this leads up to him jumping up on the stage, and being afraid to touch the Stripper’s Pole.. so he SANITIZES the freakin’ thing. I laughed, and that’s all that matters.

I must point out that ALL of these murders are random. It seems Santa is completely focusing on this one tiny, insignificant, and non-existent town, and pointlessly killing anyone he can, such as the owner of the Jewish deli. In a mark-out moment, Bill actually SPEARS the guy… after diving through the glass display case. You know, if Goldberg had done half the shit he does in this flick, he might have gotten over with the IWC. Anyways, the deli owner ended up getting STABBED WITH A MINORAH.

So, while Bill is out doin’ his thing, Nick, Twinksters, and Grandpa are trying to figure out what to do. Nick says that Santa’s powers are only good on Christmas day, meaning that it’ll run out at 7 that day – for Santa’s time zone is a few hours ahead. They also have a bomb shelter which Grandpa has constructed, equipped with cameras and a well stocked supply of food.

Think about this folks… They have to survive about 4 hours more of danger, they have no means of stopping the villain, and they have a completely secure & equipped bomb shelter to hide in. Now, what do the heroes do?


Ahh, B-flick logic at it’s best. Now, I probably started to pay less attention around here. I mean, let’s face it, it’s pretty hard to swerve us when the road never existed. To put it bluntly, this story is kinda like driving in the middle of the desert. If memory serves me right, the whole gang ended up at a school’s ice rink. I’ve never been to a high school with it’s own hockey arena, but hey, it’s not like I live Canada or anything… err, never mind.

In the ice rink, there’s trouble a brewin’. We have an epic standoff, not seen since the days of Meat VS Steve Blackman, Bret Hart VS Will Sasso, or Vader VS A Cream Puff. But then, this sleigh SWERVES right into a cactus, and it’s revealed that the Angel that Santa fought years ago… IS ACTUALLY GRANDPA!!! What? You don’t know any thousand year old holy spirits who spend their time inventing chestnut explosives in an unheard of North American town? Pfft, why don’t you go outside, geez? Oh, by the way, that was a spoiler. But it’s not like you don’t read the Smackdown Spoilers, and this movie is one of the few shows out there with less viewers than Smackdown, so I’m sure it’s ok. Nick says Goldberg’s powers should have run out by now, seeing as at his home, it’s December 26th. Goldberg then laughs and says it’s a common misconception, and the “North pole is where all the time zones converge, where it’s Christmas day, all day!”, despite the fact the movie had already establish he lives in Greenland. Continuity Don’t Mattuhhhh. All this leads to a curling rematch of the millennium…

Bill Goldberg (w/ evil bison) VS Grandpa (w/A steel plate, he’d better hope)

Using the divine powers of HELL, Goldberg rips a role in the ice, and it leads STRAIGHT TO HELL, FIRE, AND BRIMSTONE, BY GAWD. The goal of the match is to throw the rock as close as possible to the hole, without going in. Whoever is closest wins. Grandpa takes the rocks… lines it up… checks the wind… pushes off… puts on the spin.. MY GAWD, GRANDPA JUST THREW THE PERFECT ROCK! It’s RIGHT on the edge! Beautiful!


Winner: No Contest

Post match: Here comes the grandson, Nick! Goldberg’s power overwhelms him, and he gets taken down. OH NO! GOLDBERG IS LINIG UP HIS SIGNATURE FLAME BREATH! HE’S GONNA SET THIS KID ON FIRE, BY GAWD! SOMEBODY CALL THE EMTS!!!

Wait, what’s this? Nick pulls out the chestnut gun from his coat! Goldberg spits fire! Nick shoots the chestnut! THE CHESTNUT HITS THE FLAME, AND GOES DIRECTLY INTO GOLDBERG’S CHEST! NICK WITH THE MORAL VICTORY!

… yep. Anyways Twinksters and Nick are sharing a moment, and Nick says she “kisses like a guy”. Uhhh.

In other news, Grandpa gets saved, but evaporates anyways (don’t ask, I stopped a long time ago), and somehow, Goldberg survived this, and decided to fly to… Winnipeg? I guess he’s going to go learn a front face lock from Chris Jericho or something.

Overall, this movie was fucking ridiculous. I mean, it’s got Goldberg as an evil Santa. It’s ok to still be laughing at that – I still am. But when you toss on, well, everything else, this movie has quickly become one of my favorite ‘holy shit, this is horrible’ flicks. If you’re into that type of deal, and you think like we do at TWF, you’ll love this movie. If not, well, go be an artsy fag who discusses the underlying passion hidden amongst the sub-plot of the new David Lynch film. Me, I’ll be giggling to menorah stabbings. I mean, how can you not laugh at this:

I rest my case.



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