OBAMA AND SAMUS ARAN FIGHT THE FASCISTS
The doors to the Oval Office were flung open. Obama stood, letting loose the rolled up hundred dollar bill from his hand. It was White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel, flanked by two suited men.
"Dammit, Rahm. You know you're not supposed to interrupt me when my door's closed."
"But, sir, we have a situation." Rahm didn't look Obama in the eye; rather, he discreetly looked away as the president wiped the last bit of white powder from his nose.
"Fuck it, just tell me what it is and then get the fuck out of here."
One of the suited men approached Obama's desk. He handed the president a file folder. A very thick file folder. "Sir, it's a dimensional crisis. Rush Limbaugh choked on a burrito and died during a drug binge. We received word that his soul is soon going to be in the netherworld. Once he's there, he'll build a coalition of dead men and women who would oppose you. They'll lead a cross-dimensional campaign against you. The evidence is all in the files."
"Fuck this shit." Obama pulled his presidential Bic from his jacket, and lit the folder, then his Columbian blow-laced cigarette. "Just get the crew."
---
Four hours later, Obama stepped out of his dimensionally traveling police box. Behind him came his close friends and allies. Fidel Castro and Bill Ayers were directly behind him. Castro had, of course, been rejuvenated by Secret Nazi Cuban Science once again, for purposes of this sojourn. The crew was rounded out with Jeremiah Wright and Osama bin Laden; these two were much less friendly than Castro and Ayers, glaring at each other suspiciously. The team was rounded out with Saul Alinsky, having been taken from his immortal slumber in Chicago's secret rejuv-tanks for this purpose.
The team was rather abrupty stopped. A strange man fully covered in a suit approached them, a powerful cannon built onto his arm leveled at them.
"Who the fuck are you?" Obama glared at the man. An acrid stench filled the air as Alinsky soiled himself.
"Aran. Samus Aran. You're not space pirates. Why are you here?" A raspy voice. Obama could tell the man was hiding something, by the artificial tone, but what?
"Fighting fascism. Now get your fucking gun out of my face. Where the fuck are we?"
"Planet Zebes."
---
Hours later, the team was in the bowels of the planet, guided by Aran. The pits of planet Zebes belched smoke and flames. Lost souls flitted around, always at the corner of your eye, never quite in sight. Due to a weird dimensional twist, human souls slipped through the cracks of space-time and into this world after losing their connection to mortal bodies. To scientists, it was known as the netherworld; to the average man or woman, it was known as Hell.
"Well, well, well, Barack Hussein Obama. It's not surprising to see you and your Communist friends here, in Hell. But living men don't belong here. Let's fix this mistake, shall we?" Rush Limbaugh's voice drifted hauntingly through the air.
A blood curdling scream. The team turned to see Alinsky collapse, a knife through his back. Behind him was yet another man. Obama's powerful Negroid arm lashed out, crumpling the man's soulless face, killing him instantly.
"So you've killed Ayn Rand. But she is only the first of many. Mark my words, you will soon fall. My minions and dittoheads, go!"
Hundreds of lost souls rushed them from behind. But though they were many, the path was thin. One men would be able to hold off hordes, in some sort of badass 300-esque battle. And like a futuristic space Leonidas... Wait? Space Leonidas? Like some sort of Spartan space soldier? Nah, that's just plain stupid. Okay, let's compare this to the Winter War.
And like a futurstic space Finn, Aran stood his ground, blasting ice missles, plasma beams, and just plain ordinary lasers at the dittoheads. "Run! Get Limbaugh for me. I may not be able save my home from the space pirates, but I can sure help save you from these fascists!"
But the way was blocked; new group stepped from the shadows, armed to the teeth. Martin Luther King. Richard Nixon. John F Kennedy. John Wayne. All the evil forces of fascism and inequality, trying to end the progress Obama offered.
"We'll get these bastards. Keep going!" Wright pulled out a switch blade, squaring off with King.
"Dammit, Wright, I was trying to spread a message of peace and equality. Your message of hate will set the Negro race back decades!" King lunged at Wright.
Obama took the opening, and raced through the fascists, as his allies squared off against them, one by one.
---
Alone, and deep in the bowels of Zebes, Obama finally reached Limbaugh's control room. He found the man, his folds of fat covered in food, torrents of sweat dripping from his armpits.
"Obama, you're too late. I only needed to hold you off. The ultimate force of anti-socialism is wakening. He was chained in Tartarus, but my dittoheads have almost freed him."
"You don't mean..." A look of panic crossed Obama's rugged features.
"Yes. Him. My plans are almost comp..."
Obama quickly leveled his AA-12 Automatic Shotgun at Limbaugh, and held down the trigger. Five rounds a second proppelled themselves towards the former radio anchor. After a few seconds, finally the buckshot managed to penetrate Limbaugh's fatty flesh shield, killing him for good. Barack's gaze qiuckly ran across the control room's console, finally reaching a large red button labeled "SELF-DESTRUCT." He pushed it, knowing his future, and the future of America, was safe from Ronald Reagan.
---
Obama reached his compatriats again to see a horrible sight. The dittoheads were all slaughtered, as were the champions of fascism. But so, too, were his friends and allies. Castro had gotten his revenge for the Bay of Pigs, just as Kennedy managed to finally kill off the fairly elected Cuban [strike]dictator[/strike] love-leader. bin Laden struck at a true American icon, just as John Wayne killed off the wrongly accused emmissary of a religion of peace. Wright and King proved that the only true equality is the equality in death. Ayers had... Wait. Ayers shoved Nixon's corpse off of himself, and stood up, shaken, but otherwise okay.
Ayers glanced down at the corpse and spat. "Fucker sicced Checkers on me. I distracted them by asking about Watergate, and quickly rigged up an IED to kill them both, but the blast knocked me out, too. Last I knew, Aran was alive, but in serious condition. Oh, and about Aran... You should know--"
But he didn't manage to get it out. Obama rushed over to the unconscious Aran, whose discarded helmet revealed that she was a woman! And a hot one, at that.
With Aran's head in his lap, Obama cried a single tear. As it struck her face, her eyes fluttered over, and she smiled weakly. "You... you came back for me."
"Of course. I'm trying to build a socialist world. We're all in it together."
They heard a cough from Ayers, interrupting them. "Listen, Barack, your interdimensional police box is going to automatically return to our home dimension soon. We need to get there before it goes back."
"Bill, I'm not going back. I'm staying here. I... I think I found love." With that, Samus' mouth opened, and rotated towards Obama's crotch.
Ayers chuckled. "That's our Barry."
Fin