THERE'S NOTHING THE GLOBALISTS HATE MORE THAN NEW CHAPTERS OF SONIC THE HEDGEHOG: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN. WE'RE BREAKING THE CONDITIONING!
Determined to rescue his son from the clutches of the Communist empire, Sonic and his brotherhood of steel depart into the uncharted depths of Marxist space… but will their newfound strength be enough to topple the Backstreet Boys' elite soldiers?
Current Location of Richard Nixon:
Secret Maximum-Security Prison Planetoid, Stalingrad III
"I applaud you on a job well done, Larry the Cable Guy! Thanks to your strike force's actions, the Communist-Hunter will no longer be a thorn in the flesh of our glorious socialist empire. I was hesitant at first to give this task to a lowly group of American defectors, but I can now see that it was a wise choice. You have served the proletariat well!" Fidel Castro — the mightiest of the Communist Underlords and the former general of Karl Marx's armies — warmly praised.
"You are far too kind, my lordship…" Larry the Cable Guy fell upon one knee and humbly prostrated himself before the Marxist lord. He smiled and planted a gentle kiss upon Fidel Castro's glistening Super Bowl ring, the symbol of this cruel warmaster's divine authority over all living beings in the Americaverse and its neighboring galaxies.
Fidel Castro rose from his golden throne, dwarfing Larry with his gargantuan stature. He gave a short, sardonic laugh, "With those filthy, bourgeois patriots dealt with, the centennial Summit of the Communist Lords is sure to go off without a hitch! On that day, all of the American inmates of this great prison shall be publicly executed as a show of Communism's divine might. Never again will the lowly American scum dare to question our rightful position as the true masters of the patriotverse!"
Fidel Castro gazed out from his watchtower, proudly surveying the Communists' impenetrable prison facility that doubled as his base of operations. In its century-long history, not even a single American has managed to escape from the planet Stalingrad III alive. The scant number of patriots that have been able to flee from this hellish fortress were all quickly wiped out once they reached the frozen wasteland on the outside, a barren tundra crawling with all manner of godless, abyssal hellbeasts. After Americageddon, it was not an uncommon occurrence for American soldiers to take their own lives rather than be sent this place.
Castro's maniacal ranting was interrupted when Lil' Wayne, an elite Communist guard, suddenly barged into the room. "S-Sheeeeiit, my lord! That renegade American warrior we've been searching for, The Round Mound of Rebound, has struck again! We've just received word that he decapitated Peter Kropotkin, one of the nine remaining Communist Underlords, and then used his severed head as a basketball! It was pretty fuckin' brutal," The man panted, out of breath from rushing to the zenith of Fidel Castro's stronghold.
Castro snapped upon hearing the news his subordinate brought. Lil' Wayne trembled with fear as his enraged master approached him, the veins on his forehead bulging from his boundless, untameable fuckfury. Steve Buscemi's new weave is a surprise hit.
"That is most unfortunate indeed. Unfortunate for you, I should say. There is nothing I hate more in this world than bad news and those who fail me! Now that you've brought this to my attention, there is only one way to assuage this hellraging niggerfury of mine…" The Communist lord licked his lips as he spoke.
Fidel Castro unhinged his jaw and devoured Lil' Wayne whole, ignoring the rapper's pained screams as he grinded his swarthy body to paste with his razor-sharp fangs. Larry the Cable Guy watched on casually as his master spat out one of his subordinate's severed legs and wiped the cartilage from his chin, concluding his meal.
Unlike Karl Marx and the Communist nobility of old that cared greatly for their men, Fidel Castro was infamous for his acts of inhumane brutality against his own soldiers. Castro shot Larry the Cable Guy a fierce glare, "You'd do well not to incur my wrath, understand? Unlike that piece of trash, it would be a shame to lose you. You Backstreet Boys are an extremely valuable asset! I trust that you already have a plan to deal with this 'phantom baller' character as well, right?"
The Cable Guy performed a submissive curtsy, "You know me all too well, Fidel Castro-sama. I've entrusted Brendan Fraser to Git-R-Done and silence the rest of those who would dare to question your rule. His drive ability, 「Beastie Boys」, should be more than enough to deal with the capitalist scum. I'll admit, that horrific power he possesses unnerves even me!"
Fidel Castro let out a hearty laugh, "Good, very good indeed! You'd best not disappoint me, Cable Guy." The depraved Communist took a large bite out of Lil' Wayne's skull before finishing his sentence, "...Or else!"
After leaving Castro's inner sanctum, Larry the Cable Guy looked over his shoulder to ensure that he wasn't being followed. He rolled up the sleeve of his plaid robes, revealing a basketball-shaped communication device attached to his wrist.
He held the mouthpiece up to his face and spoke in a hushed voice, "Harlem Globetrotters Intelligence? This is field operative Larry the Cable Guy, code name Globie. Tell Meadowlark Lemon that our infiltration is going exactly according to plan. Very soon, the patriotverse shall once again be under our complete control…"
"Nigga nigga nigga nigga! I'm 100% nigga!" Sonic the Hedgehog proudly sang despite being a dirty white boy. He wildly flailed his electric guitar over his head, ferociously slashing through every inbred Communist soldier in his path. Alex Jones let out a throaty war cry as he bisected a Marxist pterodactyl right down the middle, drenching his shirtless body with the hellbeast's fading life force.
This righteous brotherhood of sweaty bikers fought in low orbit of the planet Neo New Jersey Beta, a former American colony that had since fallen under Communist occupation. Sonic's steely, vengeful gaze peered out from the visor of his space helmet, striking fear into the hearts of his sodomous enemies. The fearless patriots advanced riding astride their motorcycles, staring down the faceless hordes standing before them without fear.
Sonic swung his chainsaw and clashed with the socialists head-on in a fuckriot of blood and burning rubber. "Nigga nigga nigga nigga! I'm 200% nigga!" The hedgehog bayed inarticulately as he dug his blood-soaked saw into their cybernetic armor. Flushed with the grace of George Washington's divine fury, Sonic sent the remainder of his foes flying into the abyss with but a single stroke of his mighty guitar.
"Wait, that can't be! Are you...?" Sonic was rendered speechless as he gawked upon a faint silhouette standing in the smoke of his latest onslaught. With the basketball in the man's hand and the Tune Squad jersey that covered his magnificent physique, his identity was unmistakable for any American. Sonic the Hedgehog was gazing upon Michael Jordan.
"I'm telling you that I really did see Air Jordan! After that, he didn't say a word and flew right down to this planet. I might be high as fuck now, but I wasn't when I saw it!" Sonic insisted as his motorcycle touched down on the planet beneath.
Alex Jones seemed unconvinced, "Are you sure about that, little cuz? It was probably just a GLOBALIST trick. After all, didn't that Jordan guy sacrifice himself while fighting one of Karl Marx's elite soldiers? That's what the rumors I've heard say, at least."
"Could what Method Woman said before be true? Has Michael Jordan-senpai really just been in hiding all this time? Or did she mean that someone else had survived Americageddon?" The hedgehog thought to himself. Without any leads to go on, Sonic decided to enter a dingy tavern and press the locals for information on Michael Jordan's whereabouts.
Sonic turned his head as he heard the sound of the bar's front door creaking open behind him. Out stepped Father Jimmy Neutron, a traveling missionary clad in a priest's vestment and toting a copy of the Holy Bible in his hand. The man combed back his gigantic anime hair and pulled up a stool next to Sonic and his two companions.
His face was scorched red from the harsh sun of this desert world, and judging by his figure he hadn't had a single meal for days. "Hey! Someone get a drink for my friend over here. And make sure it doesn't have any fluoride!" Alex Jones called out, taking pity on the stranger.
"Sweet Jesus…" Beads of sweat trickled down Jimmy Neutron's face as he ogled one of the bar's waitresses from the back. He then mumbled something unintelligible under his breath about her being "thick."
Overcome with pious fucklust, the gentlemanly priest rose from his chair and began to work his finest courting techniques upon her. "Hey babe. How about you and me get nipple to nipple? By that, I mean that I want to fuck you behind a dumpster," Jimmy Neutron propositioned. The waitress then swooned over his daring.
Sonic turned to Trump and slowly shook his head. He scoffed at the priest, "Flirting with women? Pshht, what a goddamn beta. A real alpha male would just whip out his dick right then and there. Some niggaz ain't got no game, you feel me?" Donald Trump, however, was too busy trying to light the bar on fire to pay any attention.
Father Jimmy Neutron turned around and slammed his fist on the counter. "The hell did you just say about me and my game, you bitch-ass sinners? I'll have you know that bein' a boss pimp like me ain't easy. You'd best place your hand on this here bible of mine and pray for forgiveness before I whoop yo ass!" He growled.
Donald Trump crinkled his brow, scrutinizing the cover of the holy book. "That says The Bibble. Just what kind of priest are you, anyway? You seem more like a pimp to me," He questioned. Alex Jones begins rubbing melted butter all over his body for no reason.
"Y-Yamete! You dare question our lord and savior, heretic?" Father Neutron snarled. At the exact same instant, Jimmy Neutron pulled out his twin crucifix pistols and Donald Trump produced his flaming swords.
Trump puckered his lips and thrust out his groin. He cooed with pleasure, "Mmm, I wonder what wondrous screams you'll add to my symphony of the dead? I look forward to sending you up in flames, fuckboy!"
Sonic and Alex Jones threw back the rest of their beer as Donald Trump and Jimmy Neutron participated in a duel to the death, not overly concerned with the events that were transpiring.
"Looks like our magnificent golden toad has gotten his ass into trouble again. On another note, I can't be the only one that thinks there's something badly wrong with this place, right little cuz? There's not a single person in the streets, and the windows of all the houses are bolted shut. Now that I think about it, this bar is the only business in town! It's almost like we were meant to come here," Alex Jones pontificated over a glass of filtered water.
Sonic removed the joint from his mouth and nodded in agreement. "You've got a point, filter-man. As high as I am, even I can see that something isn't adding up here. Do you think those damn Commies could have used the image of Michael Jordan to lure us here?" He asked.
"Well, I was going to say that the GLOBALISTS were behind this, but that theory works too!" Alex Jones concurred.
Beads of nervous sweat trickled down the bartender's forehead as he overheard their conversation. "S-Shit, the Americans are onto us! Someone inform Lord Fraser that the operation's been compromised. We've got no choice but to activate the Terrordome!" Porky Pig, the proprietor of the bar, flipped on a switch hidden underneath the beer taps and scrambled to safety.
Not long after, metal shutters fell down over all of the windows and exits of the tavern, sealing the group of righteous Americans inside. Sonic tore his studded belt asunder and fired off a deadly salvo from his chode that blew a hole straight through the steel curtain that blanketed the building. The Americans then stepped out of the exit that Sonic had created and headed for the center of the town. However, little did they know that the Communist armies had an even greater trap lying in wait for them.
Donald Trump's flaxen chest hairs stood on end, a sign as old as the Americaverse itself to predict an oncoming disaster. A fleet of Communist battlecruisers suddenly emerged from the cover of the clouds carrying a monolithic, completely featureless black dome.
The rays of the sun were eclipsed by the impenetrable structure as it was lowered down by a series of chains. The dome was then locked into place by burying the 1,488 spikes jutting out alongside its perimeter several feet into the earth, effectively cutting off the deserted town from the outside world. "Lord have mercy…" Father Jimmy Neutron trembled with terror as he traced a cross over his heart for protection.
"Are you weak-ass Commies still tryna' mirk me? I ain't got any time for this, I've got a country to save! All you bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks!" Sonic shouted at the barrier that blocked his escape route, greatly infuriated. After the Communist's secret weapon, the dreaded "Terrordome", had been sealed in place, all of the electronic devices in the vicinity switched on and began to play a pre-recorded message.
A holographic projection of a large rooster-like creature suddenly spread across the interior of the Terrordome. "...Boy, I say, boy, you Americans have all fallen right into our master's trap! Now that you're locked in this here Terrordome, there's no chance of you surviving. I say, absolutely no chance! You boys are about as sharp as a ho's titties. Little did you know, this place is already swarmin' with Commie bounty hunters lookin' to make a name for themselves. Since you've got nowhere to run, these boys are gon' hunt you down and deliver you to our glorious leader: Brendan Fraser of the Backstreet Boys!" The mysterious character, Foghorn Leghorn, announced over the many speakers lining the dome.
Thousands of Communist mercenaries emerged from the cover of darkness and began flooding the streets, all armed to the teeth and thirsting for godless savagery. The holographic rooster continued, "The rules, I say, the rules of this deadly game are the same as always! You capture one of the Americans and you receive a cash prize depending on their assigned difficulty level. Bag 'em all and you become one of the richest men in the patriotverse! Do you get the general gist of what I'm conveyin' here, son? Now that you understand the workings of this here Terrordome, your targets are as follows..."
The projection of Foghorn Leghorn disappeared and was instead replaced by a series of mugshots, all captioned with the prize money for each target and a brief overview of their strengths and weaknesses.
"Chill of Death" Ice Cube — Reward: Ten Billion Shekels
Ice Cube unzipped his sleeping bag and rose from his resting place on the side of the road, awoken by the approaching army of Marxists. "What's going on now? What the hell's with all that noise? Ah, fuck it. Doesn't concern me, I'm sure. I'm going back to sleep…" Ice Cube yawned and rolled over, zipping up his bag entirely so that even his face was covered. Miraculously, he wasn't spotted by the mob of Communist bounty hunters that trudged past him.
"Pope Sweet Jesus" Jimmy Neutron — Reward: Five Hundred Million Shekels
Jimmy Neutron clasped his hands together and began to pray, "Forgive me for this, lord. I'm about to commit one hell of a sin up in this bitch. Priests need nuns, doctors need nurses, pimps need ho's, and Commies need me to blow their motherfuckin' brains out!" The priest opened his bible, revealing the secret compartment hidden between the pages where he stored his silver pistol.
"Round Mound of Rebound" Real Name Unknown — Reward: Eight Billion Shekels
This enigmatic basketball player stood shorts-deep in a puddle of Communist blood and afterbirth. In his swarthy hands he dribbled the severed heads of his philistine enemies, the trophies he would keep from the aftermaths of his massacres. Even someone as twisted and perverse as Sonic the Hedgehog would be disgusted by the grisly sight.
"Hm? It's gotten dark all of a sudden. Geez, did I already kill everyone before the real game even started?" He muttered under his breath. He ran his forked tongue up and down his arm, lapping up the blood trickling down his various sports bracelets.
"Globalist Slayer" Alex Jones — Reward: One Billion Shekels
"Things are starting to get interesting around here! If we're going to escape from this prison planet, I'll need to utilize my strongest supplement yet: BRAIN FORCE!" The info warrior let out an unrestrained, masculine gorilla screech that deflowered every virgin that hearkened upon its majesty. His body radiated with raw energy as his pineal gland decalcified, signalling that his body and mind were prepared for the impending battle.
"Communist-Hunter" Sonic the Hedgehog — Reward: Seven Billion Shekels
Sonic spent his time carving a crude portrait of a nude, headless woman fornicating with a dinosaur on the back of his electric guitar. Whether his careless attitude was due to him being blazed out of his mind or simply because of his confidence in his own strength, none could say.
Sonic frowned disapprovingly as he stared upon the final product. He swore, "Fuck! I knew I should have made her rack bigger. The dinosaur, I mean…" Like all men of the lord, Sonic the Hedgehog was a Scalie.
"Serial Arsonist" Donald Trump — Reward: Four Billion Shekels
"Hey, Sonic-kun! How about you say we drain the swamp and murderize the fuck out of these Commies?" Trump proposed. Sonic laid down his guitar and smirked, "Do you even need to ask at this point? The answer is always going to be hell yeah, motherfucker!"