Part One: Prologue

Imagine, if you will, some years in the future. How many? Uhm...some many. Satisfied? Good. The world is in dire peril and must be saved. You may be thinking, "This sounds like every OTHER sci fi fanfic I've ever read!" And, well, you'd be right. But keep in mind, you've never read this specific fanfic so shut your bitchass mouth before I hafta hoe slap ya!

ahem

We pan into the oval office where sits this some many future's master and commander, George Bush the 23rd. He is poised, deep in thoughts of pie. He hears his doors slamming open behind him so he swings his swivelly chair around.

The Al Gore robot, still going strong after these many long years, trods his way up to the big oak desk. He places his hands on the desk and stares directly into President Bush's eyes.

"Sir, there is a matter of great peril!"

"Yes yes, I know. I read about it in the paragraphum above. Don't dwell on it or you'll get a hoe slap." Noticing a blank look on G.O.R.E.'s mug Bush further explained. "Ask Tipper. Anyway, what seems to be the problem?"

"There's a big, funny sort of war brewing."

"ANOTHER one? Why the fuck do people keep voting us into office? Anyway, what are you consideratin' we do about it?"

"Something Sir."

"Well yes, that's a step in the right direction. Specifications?"

"Uhm...something that looks flashy? The public likes that."

"Well let's not let the public down!"

G.O.R.E. found his way behind the President's chair. Bush pushed a secret button under his desk and a clear glass pod enveloped the two and the desk. Suddenly white flakes began to flutter onto those in the bubble.

"Oh sorry, still got his thang on Snowglobe mode. Let's just...uh..walk."

The two wound down the steps into the secret layer under the Oval Office. There were scientists there. Bush walked up to one.

"Okay, what is the plannation for the trouble we've got brewing up on the surface."

"Meep meep moop MEEP!"

"Yes, and then?"

Mr. President, maybe you should talk to someone who can speak English."

Bush blinked a few times at the small creature with glasses yet no eyeballs. "That wasn't it?"

Bunsen sighed and put his felt hand to his head. "NO Mr. President. That was just...Look I don't have time to explain it to you! There's dire peril afoot and we must avert it!"

"How should we do that?"

"Well time travel of course! It's a sci fi cliché!"

"And how will that help?"

"With all due respect Mr. President, Star Trek geeks who are smart enough to learn the entire Klingon language aren't smart enough to figure out how time travel works. You don't stand a chance."

"Okay then, let's just get this plan motovation!"

"R...right." Dr. Honeydew bent over a machine and pushed a button. "Paging Link Hogthrob and Dr. Julius T. Strangepork. Paging Hogthrob and Strangepork. The Swinetrek is needed immediately."

Suddenly they were there.

"Okay, now they are going to drive their spaceship around the world backward really fast and turn back time."

"Will that work Honeydew?"

"It saved Lois Lane's ass didn't it Mr. President?"

"Hot damn! A plan!"

Their plan went into action and they were suddenly back in the year 2004. After they reached the year of their destination a beep was heard on the console.

"This is Dr. Honeydew. We are sending all of the information we have on a very powerful ship. It is called the Nedesco. You must find that ship and build a crew for it, then you can deal with the peril."

"And where can we find this ship?"

"Moop meepy meep!"

"Right, I see your point." agreed the President.

"Get away from the microphone Beaker!"

A grunt could be heard from the other end. "Meeper fuckmeep." was mumbled.

"We are not sure where to find this ship. 2004 predates any information we have on it. You must use your skills and wit to attain your goal. Good luck."

G.O.R.E. snickered. "Anyone else think we're screwed here?"

A unanimous amount of hands raised on the bridge, including the President's himself.

To Be Continued...