'Twas the Eve before Boonta, when all thro' the sand Not a creature was stirring, not even a Jawa The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Palpatine soon would be there; And Ani was nestled all snug in his bed, While visions of A Choked Bitch danced in his head; And Shmi in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long summer's nap; When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash, The moon on the breast of the new-fallen sand, Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature podracer, and two tiny turbines, With a little old driver, so rich and fu