The Mummy IV: A President's Curse
INTRODUCTION
A lot of people seem to think that the world will end now that Obama is president. My attitude is, come on guys, what is the worst that could happen? Giving Obama the keys to the Whitehouse is like giving a two-year-old an Abrams tank. Sure, it's not the most prudent decision, but what damage could the little tyke possibly do? He's only got two years of experience!
Unfortunately, Obama is much taller than your average two-year-old, which means he can reach places a two-year-old normally couldn't, such as the top shelf of the pantry, or the launch button of a nuclear missile silo. So it's actually a bit more dangerous than I've made out.
Even so, our nation should be pretty safe through to the next election. Unless. . . .
The Mummy IV:
A President's Curse
It was not far from the outskirts of the nation's capital that a group of men were digging furiously under direct orders from the president. Their shovels pattered and clanged against hewn stone as they excavated the encompassing earth. A pitched tent obscured their work from any intrusive onlookers.
At last, as the night drew close to morning, their efforts were rewarded. Before them was a small marble door, plastered over with lime.
A man who had been watching them, tall and gangly and wearing an expensive suit, stepped forward to assume the honor of breaking the seal.
"No, wait!"
Biden grabbed hold of Obama to pull him back.
"The ex-president was no fool. Why don't we let the illegal immigrants open the tomb?"
"Oh, good thinking Joe. You're so smart."
Obama gestured to the workers, who had been shoveling tirelessly and were now smirched with dirt and sweat. "¡Ándale! ¡Ándale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba!" he said, pointing at the tomb.
The workers stared at him blankly.
"Get over there and open the tomb right this instant or no salsa for you!" commanded Biden.
"¡Odio a los putos gringos!" muttered one of the illegal immigrants as they picked up their tools and went over to break open the seal on the tomb.
Predictably, they were dissolved by salt acid, or impaled by giant spikes, or forced to listen to the latest Linkin Park album. Obama and Biden continued on into the tomb without paying particular attention to the workers' horrible fate.
"At last!" declared Biden, "We are inside the tomb of the the thirty-second president!"
"That's not very long to be president," remarked Obama.
"No, you fool. This is the tomb of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, America's first socialist president. Because of his efforts to pack the Supreme Court and override the Constitution, at his death he was mummified and placed under a horrible curse. He was buried here, along with his presidential cabinet. Once we release the curse, he will rise again from the dead in order to feast on the paychecks of the living!"
"I thought you said we were coming down here to find cookies?"
"Never mind that now!" snarled Biden angrily, "I will buy you cookies later! Thousands and thousands of cookies! But what we are doing right now is raising an army of the undead!"
"My favorite is chocolate chip," sung Obama happily, following the perturbed Biden down the dark corridor into the lower recesses of the tomb.
At the end of the passage they entered a large antechamber. Biden handed his torch to Obama and stooped down in front of an elaborately engraved wall.
"What are those strange symbols?" asked Obama curiously.
"That is the atrocious handwriting of James F. Byrnes," replied Biden, "Truman's secretary of state. I will need a few a minutes to decipher the inscription."
As Biden was poring over the lettering, an eerie breeze circulated the chamber. The torchlight flickered, and a sinister silhouette emerged from the entryway.
"Rrrrugh!" it said.
Obama lept back in fright and tried desperately to seek refuge behind the figure of Joe Biden.
"It's the mummy!"
"No, you idiot, that's John McCain."
"Rrrugh!" said John McCain again, lurching forward in his old person gait, arms raised at shoulder height.
"I've come to stop you, Barrack Obama!"
"It's too late, McCain!" hollered Biden, "We already have the electoral votes we need to unlock the curse! Nothing can stop us now!"
With that, he read the last of the inscription--something quite boring about agricultural futures--and the whole tomb began to shake. The rocky wall of the antechamber receded, and beyond it was a room filled with all sorts of gold and gem-encrusted artifacts from the 1940s. At the room's center, surrounded by the mummified remains of his cabinet, was the sarcophagus of Franklin D. Roosevelt.
"A ha ha ha!" Biden charged into the room, followed closely by Obama.
"Rrrrugh!"
McCain tried to lunge after them, but while he'd been distracted something had latched onto his feet.
"Gah!" he yelled, seeing that it was George W. Bush, "Why are you always holding me back!?"
"It's my legacy!" Bush replied.
Meanwhile, Obama and Biden were summoning all of their strength to slide open the lid of the sarcophagus. Inch by inch it gave way, until finally, with a loud cladder, it slid off onto the rocky floor.
"Rrrrugh!"
"Oh no!" cried Obama, looking around fearfully, "It's John McCain!"
"No, stupid, it's the mummy!"
Franklin Roosevelt rose purposefully from his sarcophagus, crackling his deceased, mummified joints. A grisly chill came over the room, as if someone's mom had just turned the thermostat back to 60 again.
Meanwhile, McCain was still struggling to get free of Bush.
"Bush, you have to let me go! This is important! Now that Roosevelt has returned he is going to unleash all the plagues of the Great Depression! He will feed off of taxpayers, waxing in power until he is able to solidify immortality in the form of massive entitlement programs. And the economic crisis will be eternally prolonged. We have to shutdown congress before he gets there. There is no other conceivable way he could be defeated!"
With that, a loud shot rang out from the shadows. Roosevelt's corpse staggered at the force of being hit. Sarah Palin stepped into the torchlight of the antechamber.
"Doggone mummies," said Palin, sighting another shot with her moose rifle, "Dontcha know you gotta be shootin' em fer they get all-powerful and stuff?"
"Noooooooo!" moaned Franklin Roosevelt, "It is my one weakness! Bullets! Bullets fired from a gun!"
He thought a moment. "And polio. I guess that's a weakness of mine, too."
With one last gasp of musty mummy breath, Franklin Roosevelt dissolved into dust.
"Ah well," sighed Obama, stepping out from his hiding place behind the sarcophagus, "I guess that we'll have to find another way to defeat the Republican filibuster. You alright, Joe?"
"Yes, I'm perfectly fine," said Biden huffily.
"That's good, because as I recall, you are buying me cookies now."
"Nice seeing you again, McCain. You too, Bush. Sarah. No hard feelings, I hope?"
"Rrrugh!" replied McCain.
With that, the Chief of State and the Vice President made their way out of the chamber.
Friday, November 07, 2008
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3 comments:
Brilliant! Bravery and action and bacon all in one story.
I inserted the bacon in the version I read...
< !-- bacon -->
I am now adding this code to all of my stories.
Isn't that a little too smart for Biden? I think Biden and Obama were mixed up.
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