As the Millennium Falcon approached the Death Star something weird happened. “I can’t control the ship,” Hiller admitted.

“I knew we should’ve hired Maverick!” Scott whined.

“It’s like a tractor beam is pulling us in,” Hiller paused. “Have you ever had déjà vu?”

“Forget that!” railed Roland. “Does anyone have a plan?”

“Yeah,” Scott explained. “We use our assortment of complementary skills to save the galaxy. My werewolfhood.”

“My miracles.”

“My vampire slaying skills.”

“My knowledge of the force.”

“And my blaster,” Buffy said. “That’s your line, Roland. Get with it.”

“In other words,” Roland said, angrily. “You don’t have a plan. This is what we get for following Napoleon Dynamite into battle. Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

Roland explained his plan to them. When he was done, there was grave silence. You could cut the tension with a ladle.

“That’s the… stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” Hiller interjected. “But it just might work.”

“Find out, we will,” Yoda said, soberly. “Save the galaxy, we must.”