Yo, ninja-heads! Why don’t you grab a slice of pizza and head over to the OL STORE? Don’t walk around flaunting your half-shells, cover up with one of our new t-shirts!

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Just because all of us geeks are shitting ourselves in fear of Michael Bay’s douchebag reboot of the Not Teenage Nor Mutant Ninja Turles doesn’t mean there ain’t anyone sweating it. Take for example the co-creator of the franchise. He’s like, totally in love with the enterprise.

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A Michael Bay movie is being pushed back because of script issues? This truly is the year of the Mayan apocalypse.

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Welcome to the Christmas Creep, you swine! It’s Omega Sinema’s celebration of the absolute worst in Christmas specials. I found some doozies to share with ya’ll, from childhood icons, to icons we’d rather forget, to utter shit from New Zealand that made me want to convert to Judaism so I would never even be put in the position of watching it again.

I decided to kick things off with probably the worst of the bunch. Get it over with, you know? Like tearing the duct tape off your girlfriend’s mouth following a night of passion. Right? Anyways, it’s pizza time in Hell: Christmas With the Turtles (1994).

Back in the day, us TMNT fans were loyal and the Turtle obsession teetered on the edge of religious obsession. We generally ignored the blatant ripoffs like Biker Mice From Mars and Street Sharks but always shelled out our allowance earnings for retarded figures like “Farmer Don.” We were forgiving of the third movie. We kept it green and we kept it in the sewer. What then, I ask, did we do to deserve this kick to the nuts? I love the Turtles and I love Christmas but fuck this:

…what. The hell. Was that? Why do they all talk like goodfellas but sing with a fake patois? And why won’t they stop smiling? They all look atrophied – like a bunch of green Amy Winehouses, which I think is the plural of Winehouse. God, I could go on and on nitpicking about the horrible production, but lemme tell you about the racy and thought-provoking plot for a minute.

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Krang from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is the fucking man. Why, you ask? I ask you, why the fuck do you even have to ask! Have I said “ask” enough yet?

Let’s see. He’s a talking brain. A talking brain. He’s a talking brain with arms. And he’s a talking brain that controls a robot body. The robot body that wears sunglasses, despite not having to see, and violent red underwear. Who the fuck thought this shit up? It’s fucking brilliant. Just how much coke were people in the 1980’s on? Someone really sat there, and was like,

I have an idea! Let’s make a talking brain, with fucking arms! FUNNEL ME MORE DRUGS. And then, then, then…HE’LL USE A ROBOT BODY THAT HAS FUCKING SICK SUNGLASSES ON. MY NOSE BURNS I SEE GOD.

Well done, sir.