Sora pilots the Gummi Ship across the universe with Donald, Goofy and Buzz, having been turned into snails due to their last adventure, resting on his head. Scrooge locked in the Gummi Ship's broom closet.
"So what's our next plan of action, our fearless leader?" asks Buzz.
"Well, I certainly can't take on The King Mickey with a bunch of snails for partners, can I?" remarks Sora. "I'll have to go back to Merlin's and change you all back to normal."
"Can we get something to eat real quick?" Scrooge asks from inside the broom closet. "Strawberry melonade would be loverly!"
"Quiet, Scrooge!" shouts Sora. "You're in a time-out, remember? No eating for a month."
Scrooge, however, continues rambling. "Jello puddin' pops rake my-"
Everyone turns to the broom closet. "BE QUIET!!!"
The Gummi Ship enters Radiant Garden's atmosphere and lands next to Merlin's Place. As Sora and the Gaang (minus Scrooge) exit their ship, some loud strangling noises can be heard from inside the house. Sora slowly approaches the door and creaks it open to find that Leon, thankfully back to normal, is strangling a beat-up Merlin, also back to normal. The rest of Merlin's cult is huddled over to a corner, unwilling to get into this situation.
"You crazy old man!!" Leon yells as he continues strangling Merlin. "How are we supposed to go against The King Mickey without them?! Huh?!"
"Squall, please!" Merlin manages to wheeze. "Strangling the coolest magician in the world is against Rule #3.14 in McGonagle's Guideli-"
"Oh, shut up!!" interrupts Leon. He pauses his strangling to see Sora approaching the two of them. Sora is significantly uneased by Leon's angered expression.
"Oh... hi... um..."
Leon, however, is not in the conversational mood and attempts to shoo him away. "Get out of here! And don't come back in until you hear a sick cracking noise!"
"Hey, chill out!" says Sora, taken aback by Leon's repellant behavior. "I just wanted to see if Merlin could change my friends back! Is that okay with you, Merlin?"
"Of course, my boy!" gasps Merlin. "Anything to aid a fellow weapon of mass helping people! Now if Leon could just stop crushing my esophagus, I might be able to work something out!"
Sora turns to Leon and points to the ground, signifying Leon to release his grip on Merlin. "Oh, alright," Leon mutters reluctantly.
As promised, he lets go of Merlin's neck, allowing Merlin to dust himself off and ready his wand. "Now then... ahem... Persona del caracol!"
Merlin flicks his wand and zaps the snails on Sora's head with a sky-blue lightning bolt. The snails transform back into Donald, Goofy, and Buzz, and their combined weight results in Sora collapsing onto the ground.
"I can't feel my appendix," groans Sora.
"Just walk it off, Sora," says Leon. "It'll be all right. I hope."
"Listen up, everyone," Merlin says authoritively. "Now that I've restored your friends, Sora, I need you to do me a favor."
"Why is it that everyone around me wants me to solve their problems?" Sora asks himself.
Merlin ignores Sora's self-inquiry and continues. "We've been trying to obtain new recruits for our cult in preparation for battling that dreaded The King Mickey. However, we are unable to recruit Pooh Bear and his friends because you murdered them."
"Happy to be of service, Merlin," says Buzz, sarcastically taking a bow.
"Yes, you're welcome, Buzz," replies Merlin. "Now be quiet."
"Well, how do we git 'em back, Merlin?" asks Goofy. "Get some magic dragon to-"
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do!" interrupts Merlin. "I'm going to send you lot back in time to when the Winnie-the-Pooh book was first written, and I'm going to have you deliver it to me personally!"
"That sounds like a plan and all," Buzz says. "But wouldn't that sort of destroy the space-time continuum a little?"
"Well, sure, it may cause a time paradox or two, but when has that ever got in the way of mass helping people? Besides that time I royally messed up the carving of Mount Rushmore? But personally, I say having my head up there instead of George Washington's isn't so bad."
Goofy is still unsure about this. "I dunno, Merlin. It really doesn't seem right messin' with the natural order of things. Are you sure it's even legal?"
"In some dimensions, depends on what you mean by legal." Merlin whips his wand around dramatically. "But back to business! We need some fresh new recruits and we need them now! My boy, prepare for some major time-warping, and I don't mean dancing! Edobeap retsim!"
Donald tries to convince Merlin to give him some time. "Wait, I haven't mentally pre-"
Before he can finish, Merlin flicks his wand and zaps the Gaang with a pink lightning bolt, causing them to disappear in a bright flash. A black soot mark on the floor has taken their place. Merlin blows off the tip of his wand. "So, who wants eggnog?"
However, before anyone can get out of the corner, the door bursts open, marking the entrance of Scrooge McDuck. "Heeere's Ducky!"
The time is 1607 in eastmost Virginia, and a British ship has parked itself on the shore. A sizable amount of British settlers have already unboarded the ship, along with their leader, The Governator Ratcliffe, and his manservant Wiggins. Both of them take their time to observe the immediate area.
"Virginia is a tickle of joy on the British belly of the universe," The Governator Ratcliffe states. "It must be scratched. Right, Wiggins?"
"Yes, my lord!" replies Wiggins, cheerfully saluting.
"WHAAAT?!?!" The Governator Ratcliffe strangles Wiggins with one hand. "We Britains only take 'no' for an answer!! Is that understood, Wiggins?!"
"No, my lord!" Wiggins gasps through The Governator Ratcliffe's grip.
The Governator, calming down, lets go of Wiggins' neck, dropping him down on the ground. "That's better. Are the men all accounted for?"
"No, my lord," Wiggins correctly responds.
"The lamp oil?"
"No."
"The rope?"
"No."
"The bombs?"
"No."
"Guard pugs?"
"No."
"Digging materials?"
"No."
"Splendid! Now to unleash a hideous, horrible nightmare upon-"
Suddenly, a middle-aged, black-haired Scottish man with a ponytail, Ben, leaps past The Governator Ratcliffe, wielding a cutlass and swinging it wildly. "Aye aye! Nose nose! Throat throat! Ablast, me heartlies! And shiver me tokus!"
The Governator Ratcliffe is quite annoyed by this particular settler. "For the last time, Benjamin, we are settlers, not pirates! If you're going to continue with this nonsense, then take it out on the local forest animals or something. It's about time we got some fresh food anyhow."
"Aye aye! Nose nose! Throat throat!" Ben runs off into the forest to do some damage. The Governator Ratcliffe turns to Wiggins.
"Wiggins, remind me to bludgeon Benjamin repeatedly over the head when he gets back."
"No, my lord."
A shotgun blast is heard close-by, followed by an anguished scream. "Gaaah!! My kidneys... and lymph nodes!!"
The Governator Ratcliffe and Wiggins rush over to the area where the blast came from to find a settler lying on the ground clutching his stomach area and bleeding profusely. The person who dealt the blast, a balding, bespectacled settler, named Dick, is standing nervously by him, and now standing face to face with an irate The Governator.
"What... is the meaning... of this?!" The Governator asks furiously.
"I'm... I'm sorry, Sir!" stutters Dick. "I thought he was a quail!"
"There's no room for excuses here, Dick," says The Governator Ratcliffe, prodding Dick's chest. "I have the right mind to snatch that gun away from you and shoot out all your vital organs in alphabetical order!"
"But... But I..."
The Governator Ratcliffe grabs Dick by the shirt and stares him down threateningly. "Mark my words, Dick. If you don't learn to master that weapon before we conquer this land, may your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson be cursed tenfold! Do you understand?"
"Yes, The Governator," says Dick, not knowing any better.
The Governator Ratcliffe snatches Dick's shotgun and shoots out both of his knees, leaving him helpless and groaning on the ground. The Governator Ratcliffe then chucks Dick's gun down in front of him. "You're a disappointment to me and all that is British. Learn to master this weapon... or else."
"N-No, The Governator."
"That's more like it," The Governator Ratcliffe turns and walks toward his ship. "Now to tend to my cactuses. We might run into some Inuit teenagers here."
Meanwhile, in the middle of the native Powhatan village, the local villagers go about with their daily activities, but are soon interrupted by a pink lightning bolt that strikes a rather serious and stoic-looking native. A split-second later, Sora and the Gaang appear, standing on top of the steaming corpse, shocking and horrifying everyone around them. A terrible silence follows, followed by one of the natives pointing at the Gaang condemningly. "Mih dellik uoy! Sreredrum!"
Sora, unable to speak the village's language, is unsure of how to properly reply. "Uh... thank you. It's nice to be in Vegas."
Buzz turns to Sora. "Sora, I've got a feeling this isn't Vegas."
"Of course it's Vegas, Buzz!" says Sora, quite sure of himself. "Why else would everyone be wearing those crazy outfits? Now enough talk. Let's find someone who can help us out." After a quick search of the area, Sora notices a wigwam with a strange, multi-colored smoke coming out of it. "That place looks perfectly healthy. Adventure!"
Sora runs ahead of the Gaang, who follow him into the wigwam. Upon entering, they find an elderly, long-haired man, Kekata, sitting in front of a mystical fire. He looks up to the Gaang. "Emoclew, lpoep etiw."
"Did... did you just tell me that emos were cool?" asks Sora, having misheard him.
Kekata stands up and raises his hands. The Gaang experiences a sharp pain in their heads and go into violent convulsions. When the pain passes, The Gaang is left on their knees clutching their heads.
"Ugh... what just happened?" says Sora weakly. "My head feels like I've been listening to Donald talk for three hours straight."
"There," says Kekata, suddenly speaking English (at least from the Gaang's perspective). "Maybe now you'll be able to speak our language."
Sora looks up to face Kekata, having gotten over the excruciating agony he just experienced. "What did you just do?!"
"I just eliminated the language barrier using my own magical powers," Kekata explains. "They also allow me to see into the future and to break the fourth wall."
Sora, not wanting to experience any more weirdness, decides to cut to the chase and get this level overwith. "That's really cool and all, but we're just here to get a certain book, so if you don't mind..."
"I know what it is you've come for," proclaims Kekata. "But before I can let you have it, I need you to do something for us."
"Alright, fine," grumbles Sora with increasing irritation. "What is it you want?"
Kekata pulls out a pile of gray, sparkly dust from his robes and chucks it into the fire in front of him, causing the smoke to billow and turn trippy colors. Some figures appear in the smoke as Kekata speaks. "The white men came across the sea to bring us pain and misery. To sell us whiskey and take our gold, to enslave the young and destroy the old."
"So what do you want us to do about it?" asks Sora, arousing Kekata's impatience
"Ignorant child. Wipe them out! What else?"
"Well, we could try to communicate with 'em," suggests the naturally pacifist Goofy. "Y'know, tell 'em that we mean no harm."
"Don't be a twit!" Kekata rebukes. "Those milkfaces look different from us. What makes you think we can trust them? In fact, it's a mystery why I'm even talking to you! You sure don't look like one of us."
"Now, we assure you, wise man," says Buzz hastily. "We may look weird to you, but I gurantee that we're not one of those same white people you're talking about. Why, I'll even go as far as to say that we would never kill anyone of your kind. On purpose."
As if to contradict Buzz's statement, the chief of the Powhatan tribe, aptly-named Chief Powhatan, storms into the tent dragging the steaming body of the native the Gaang accidently killed earlier. He appears, putting it mildly, quite unhappy.
"Like I said. Not on purpose," says Buzz, feeling a bit nervous.
"What seems to be the problem here, my brother?" asks Kekata.
"For the last time, I'm not your brother!" says Powhatan
"What are you saying? Of course we're brothers! We even have the same singing voice! It says so in the credits at the end... of..." Kekata stops, realizing he is getting weird looks from the others. "Never mind. You were saying?"
Powhatan points at the Gaang. "Those demons have struck down Kocoum and shamed our entire village!"
"Well that's weird," says Donald. "I don't think we were supposed to shame the village until later."
Powhatan continues, ignoring Donald. "Kocoum was supposed to marry my daughter and gift me with a beautiful grandchild, but now because of your whiteness, Kocoum is dead!"
"We are very sorry for your loss, Mister Chieftain, sir," says Buzz, attempting to be of some consolation. "But if you can bring your daughter over here, we'll be more than willing to apologize."
"Fine," says Powhatan reluctantly. "Just promise not to lay eggs in her stomach or whatever it is you whites do. Daughter!"
Chief Powhatan steps aside to make way for his daughter, Pocahontas. Her appearance and dress are considerably similar to that of her film counterpart... except that her age has been reduced to 12 years old. While the Gaang have to give the author of this fanfiction credit for adhering to historical accuracy, they are nonetheless filled with a mixed feeling of confusion and disgust.
Though it is quite an awkward situation they are experiencing at the moment, Buzz has to raise an objection here. "Uh, sir. Do you realize that your daughter is a 12-year-old girl and is therefore too young to have children?"
"Don't be foolish!" says Powhatan. "My daughter is just the right age for bearing children. Isn't that right, dear?"
"Can... Can I go home with you?" Pocahontas asks softly of the Gaang.
Even Sora has to admit that something's screwy here, though he is somewhat more direct with things. "What kind of messed-up cult do you people run here?"
"The same cult that's going to castrate you beyond recognition for insulting the perfectness of our perfect cult, that's what!" replies Powhatan, taking offense to Sora's remark. "Wait here! I'm getting my mallet!"
Powhatan storms off to get his special castrating mallet, leaving the Gaang to shiver in fear for their manly prides.
"I'm too young and sexy to be personally violated again!" says Sora, quickly regretting his past statement.
Donald turns to Kekata, desperate for some kind of solution. "Hey, wise guy! Do something!"
However, Kekata is not-so-conveniently in a trance at the moment and is chanting to himself dreamily. "La li lu le lo... La li lu le lo... La li lu le lo..."
"Whadd'we do now?!" frantically asks Goofy.
Sora recognizes that barbaric problems call for barbaric solutions. "Looks like it's time for Donald to do what he does best: setting things on fire! You up to it, Donald?"
However, it would seem that Donald thought ahead and already has his staff raised up in the air. "Huh?"
The top of the wigwam has been set ablaze and is now threatening to engulf the entire premise. Pieces of burning wood begin to fall around the Gaang. Sora sets his sights on Pocahontas, conjuring up an idea to avoid the impending mutilation of his manhood.
Chief Powhatan returns, carrying a large, wooden castrating mallet with spiked, metal ends, only to get a glimpse of Kekata's wigwam on fire and the Gaang escaping from it. Sora is carrying Pocahontas with one arm around her torso and one of the burning piece of wood up to her neck. Powhatan charges towards the Gaang, acting on his parental instincts. "Nooo!! Get away from her!"
Sora turns toward Powhatan and inches the torch closer to Pocahontas' face. "Pummel me with that thing and it's curtains for your little heir!"
Buzz is a little concerned about the morality of this plan. "Sora, this seems a little drastic, even for you."
"Relax, Buzz," replies Sora. "This is called 'bartering'. I saw it on TV, so I figured it must be okay."
Buzz can't help but nod pitifully at Sora's naive impressionability.
"If you kill her, I'll kill you!" threatens Powhatan, tightening the grip on his castration mallet.
"Oh yeah?! Well then if you kill me, then I'll... kill... you..." Sora sheepishly realizes that he hasn't thought this hostage plan through enough. "Wait, let me try that again."
Powhatan, however, will have none of it. "No! I knew you milkfaces couldn't be trusted, with your trimmed hair and your rubber faces and your... shoes..." Powhatan shivers queasily at that last word. "But no more! I'm going to clean this all up, and I'm starting with you! I hope you enjoy castration!"
Goofy leans toward Sora. "Nice knowin' ya, pal."
Donald, Goofy and Buzz run off in search of a good hiding place as Chief Powhatan lifts his mallet over his head and prepares to bash Sora's face in (because that's definitely how castration works). Sora drops the torch and lifts Pocahontas up to his face in a futile attempt to protect himself. When the Chief finally swings down the mallet, Pocahontas is suddenly replaced with Scrooge McDuck, resulting in his face getting bashed in instead. Needless to say, Powhatan is dumbfounded by this strange occurence. "What?! What is this?! I had no plans on castrating some sort of... strange duck person just yet!"
Scrooge, his face pummeled in by the mallet, muffles some jargon that probably wouldn't be any more intelligible if his face wasn't turned to mush.
Sora is also surprised (and rather angered) by Scrooge's unscheduled appearance) "Scrooge! What did I say about warping reality for your own stupid reasons?! And how did you get here anyway?!"
A rip in space-time suddenly appears between Sora and Powhatan as Scrooge's face fixes itself. An irate Merlin pokes his head through the hole and glares at Sora, making him quite uneasy. "Sora, I really quite cross with you and your friends! Your stupid old duck friend over there trashed up my house and felt up poor little Yuffie!"
Yuffie can be heard sobbing behind Merlin. "I don't wanna... I don't wanna... I don't wanna..."
Merlin momentarily turns his back on Sora to comfort Yuffie. "It's all right, Yuffie," he says softly. "Daddy will make it better." He turns back to Sora, resuming his previously angry disposition. "He's your problem now!"
"Wait," says Powhatan before Merlin leaves. "What about my daughter? Where is she?"
"Oh, I just sent her to another dimension. Hopefully the one with the excessively comfortable couches. If not that, she might by in the dimension with the excessively carnivorous couches that could disembowel her in seconds. I tend to get those two dimensions mixed up sometimes."
"That's good to know. Just as long as she gets back in time for the next husband I find." Powhatan walks off, leaving Sora and Merlin to their business.
"Now then," says Merlin. "Let's stop this nonsense and get back to obtaining that book that I sent you for. I mean, how else am I going to recruit more minions if you don't get to it?"
"Ravioli pizza sandwiches!" Scrooge answers.
"I'd agree with you if I didn't hate you, Scrooge," remarks Merlin. "But I don't and I do, so shut the blue blazes up! Oh, and by the way, the British are coming." Merlin retreats into the space-time rip and closes it.
Sora drops Scrooge, wondering what Merlin was talking about. "British? What British?"
To answer Sora's question, a small rumbling shakes the entire village. A few trees in the distance creak and plummet in front of Sora, catching the attention of the villagers. From out of the partially-fallen forest emerges The Governator Ratcliffe, Wiggins, and a large group of other miscellaneous settlers. Each and every one of them are armed with a musket.
"Now don't panic. We're taking over this village," The Governator Ratcliffe announces.
Ben leaps past The Governator Ratcliffe, swinging a scimitar with a dead raccoon impaled on it. "Aye! Ablast!"
The natives of the village laugh at the settlers' outlandish claim. Donald, Goofy, and Buzz have also come out of their hiding place behind some bushes to laugh at them. However, Sora remains poker-faced and takes up a fighting stance with his Keyblade out. The Governator sneers at Ben for ruining his big entrance.
"Okay, The Governator," says Sora. "You and Maleficent can have this village. We're just here to pick up a book, so don't do anything to tick us off."
The Governator Ratcliffe is quite curious as to how the lad in front of him knows who he is. "I'm sorry, have we met? And who is this Maleficent character you speak of?"
"Don't play dumb with us, The Governator!" rebukes Sora. "Scrooge is three times better at it, anyway. We all know what you want!"
"Four large eggs?" guesses Scrooge.
"No! They're here to get the whole village to buy Mercedes-Benzes and make Maleficent look good! Isn't that right, The Governator?"
The Governator Ratcliffe is further confused by Sora's claims. "Am I supposed to believe that? We just came here to plunder, pillage, rape, sack, loot, and rape again this village and beat the gold out of their precious forest. We know nothing of this 'More seedy beans' business you're blathering about."
Goofy, Donald and Buzz approach Sora, realizing what's going on here. Buzz is the first to speak. "Sora, these settlers haven't met Maleficent yet. They have no clue who she is. I believe you can use this opportunity to influence these settlers and keep them away from Maleficent."
"You mean change the future?" says Goofy. "But Buzz, Merlin said changing the future was bad manners!"
"Yeah!" agrees Donald. "Merlin will yell at us!"
"He's already yelled at us, hasn't he?" Sora brings up. "Besides, I'm only changing one little thing. Who's gonna know besides Merlin?" Sora waits for a response from the others and soon finds that they have no counter to his logic. "That's what I thought. Now, let me handle this."
Sora steps forward and sticks his chest out for the settlers, raising his arms in a grandiose manner.
"We have come from the future, o' primitive settler!" he says, trying to sound important. "We are extraterrestrials from the planet, uh... Tankian, and we have foreseen your terrible future! Wooooo!" Sora wiggles his arms in front of him in a really shallow attempt at inserting mystique into his performance.
At least Wiggins is won over. "Oh, please, tell us, o' swami! What does our undoubtedly glorious future hold?"
Sora thinks over how to put this in a hurry. "Umm... You will be visited by a, uh... demon... who will try to... I dunno, sell you cars?"
"I not be sure what these 'cars' may be," says Ben suspiciously, "but they sound evil."
"Exactly!" adds Goofy. "So just do what he tells ya to do and maybe Santa won't leave a lump o' coal for ya this Christmas!"
Sora leans into Donald's ear. "Donald, remember to poison Goofy's next meal, okay?"
"Already on my schedule, Sora," confirms Donald.
Sora turns back to the settlers. "So yes, o' vicious but reasonable settlers! You will sign a peace treaty with these kind natives and you will trade goods with each other in hopes of securing a healthy relationship with each other."
The Governator Ratcliffe scratches his head in confusion, as if the suggestion isn't processing. "Peace... treaty?"
"I've never heard of such thing," says Wiggins, equally lost. "Is it delicious?"
Sora is honestly surprised by their denseness. "You mean you've never heard of a peace treaty before?! Then how do you people solve all your fights without killing each other?!"
"We don't," The Governator Ratcliffe and Wiggins answer in unison.
Sora pinches the skin between his eyes, feeling a migraine coming on. "Oh, jeebus..."
Sora grabs Buzz and bashes on a few buttons on his chest area. Needless to say, this is not okay with Buzz. "Hey, stop! What're you doing?! Those are my favorite buttons! I like to press on them, you know!"
A sheet of paper prints itself out of a slot on Buzz's torso. Sora tears it out and hands it over to The Governator Ratcliffe for him to sign. "Here. Ignore all the technical mumbo-jumbo and just sign on the dotted line."
"And sign it real big-like so we know that you mean it!" advises Goofy.
Buzz tries to inform Sora of the truth. "Guys, that's not a treaty, that's a-"
"My hands are too beautiful for signing such petty documents," The Governator Ratcliffe interrupts. "Wiggins, sign this... 'peace treaty' for me, please."
Wiggins enthusiastically takes out a feather in an ink bottle. "No, my lord!"
"And sign it really big, too," adds The Governator Ratcliffe, remembering Goofy's advice.
"I love signing things really big!" says Wiggins gleefully. "Almost as much as I love flowers and unicorns!"
The Governator Ratcliffe sighs. "Wiggins, the likelihood of you being straight is the same as that of Dick being able to aim his gun, the Earth being round like a sphere, and Joseph being able to maintain an erection."
"That's a low blow, The Governator!" Joseph yells from the crowd.
The Governator Ratcliffe turns to Dick. "Dick, I do believe I saw a quail. Why don't you go shoot it?"
"No, sir." Dick aims his shotgun and fires into the crowd of settlers, hitting Joseph.
"MY INTESTINES!" he screams in excruciating pain.
The Governator thinks to himself. "Now where were we? Oh, yes. Wiggins, sign that paper for me, please."
Buzz once more tries to tell them about the paper. "I'm telling you, that's not a-"
"Can do, my lord!" interrupts Wiggins. "In fact, I'll sign it really slow as to add to the drama."
The Governator Ratcliffe facepalms. "Wiggins, you're a fool."
"Thank you, my lord."
Wiggins removes the feather from the ink bottle and creeps it towards the sheet of paper. When the tension is at its peak, the sound of a familiar dark portal interrupts the action. In a bout of infuriation, The Governator Ratcliffe takes the paper and crumples it up, chucking it onto the ground afterward. "Who dares break up this tense moment?! Dick, give me your gun!"
Dick walks over to The Governator Ratcliffe and hands him his shotgun. The Governator promptly snatches the gun away from him and blows off his head with it. "If his relatives ask, tell them the savages did it."
Donald points to the sky. "Over there!"
Accordingly, the settlers set their sights on the large dark portal that has appeared over the village and their heads. Three Mercedes Limousines fall from the portal and crash onto the settlers, killing all of them except The Governator Ratcliffe and Wiggins. Ben coughs and wheezes under the weight of a German Limo. "Tell me wife... she's fat."
Ben dies as another dark portal appears away from the carnage. Maleficent and Pete run out of the portal, with Pete out of breath as usual.
"We must hurry, Pete! It's only a matter of time before those fools sign that dreaded peace treaty!"
"I'm so exhausted... I could pee blood," Pete wheezes
"Enough whining! Now stick to the job!"
The Governator Ratcliffe stomps his way towards Maleficent and Pete, quite unhappy with this uninvited intrusion. Wiggins follows him close behind. "You there! Who are you and what are your names? I want to know so I can engrave them on your tombstones."
Maleficent steps forward and sticks her chest out for The Governator, raising her arms in a grandiose manner. "We have come from the future, o' primitive settler!" she says, trying to sound important. "We are extraterrestrials from the planet Tankian, and we have foreseen your terrible future!"
Sora and the Gaang catch up to The Governator. Sora is not pleased that Maleficent has stolen his bit. "That's not funny, guys! I already did that one!" Sora leans into The Governator's ear "Don't listen to them, The Governator. They're certified liars."
"Now, I assure you, The Governator," says Maleficent. "We have come to recruit you for our acts of kindness, good deeds, and... uh..." Maleficent reads the words that she wrote on her hand for this occasion. "'Ka-iring aboot thuh felines of othurs.' Whatever that is."
Buzz leans into The Governator's other ear. "They sit on thrones of lies. They have no grasp on the concept of truth."
"Truth?" says Pete, unfamiliar with the word. "But I already went to the dentist last week to have some worms pulled out!"
"Could you gentlemen please not be creepy?" asks Wiggins prudishly. "It ruins my naturally ginger hair."
Donald leans into the ear that Sora previously whispered into. "If these people were any better liars, they could be Presidents of the United States."
Scrooge leans into the opposite ear. "I want to whisper too."
The Governator Ratcliffe shoos everyone off in an overwhelmed fit. "Will all of you shut up?! Everyone knows that I'm going to be the ruler of this land, and no savage is going to stop me!"
Pete steps forward. "Hey, The Governator. You can rule this place if you join us."
"Don't be foolish," The Governator responds. "I could conquer this land by myself."
"But... we've got pie."
"Sold!"
"What?!" Sora steps in front of The Governator Ratcliffe, trying to reason with him. "But The Governator! They sell cars! Cars are bad! You can't do this!"
The Governator, however, raises a hand, silencing Sora. "Silence, you stylishly-challenged teenager! As The Governator, I hereby declare this day to be 'Shut Up Day', in which you shut up!"
"Aww..."
The Governator Ratcliffe walks over to the side of Maleficent and Pete and turns to Wiggins as Maleficent whips up another dark portal. "Farewell, Wiggins! You were a failure of a man, but... well, let's leave it at that."
"But sir! What if these savages take me hostage?"
"Why, that's never been my problem, now has it?"
Maleficent, Pete, and The Governator Ratcliffe disappear into the dark portal, which closes behind them, leaving everyone else behind. Buzz gives off an annoyed sigh. "Why didn't I see that coming?"
Scrooge begins to rub Buzz's space helmet with both hands. "I like your head."
The natives in the area set their sights on Wiggins, the only settler left in the immediate area, and approach him menacingly. Wiggins sweats profusely, gulps and tugs at his collar quite nervously. "So... anyone up for a rousing game of cricket?"
The natives grab Wiggins and drag him away. As Wiggins struggles for his life, a book falls off his person and hits the ground. "No! Stop! You don't want to do this! I make a terrible meal! I don't look good in gravyyyyy!"
Sora can only watch and shrug passively as the scent of boiling beezlenut oil fills the air. "Well, so much for the peace treaty."
"Won't anybody listen to me?!" says Buzz angrily. "That wasn't a peace treaty!"
Sora walks over to the crumpled paper. "Then what was it?" He picks it up, uncrumples it, and looks at it.
"That is a permission slip for me and my Star Command sector to go see Santa Claus Conquers the Martians in widescreen Laserdisc," answers Buzz. "We're learning about how Santa Claus brings joy to war-mongering planets by bombing politicians' houses."
"That's one messed-up club you joined, Buzz," remarks Donald.
"Thank you, I think."
Donald picks up the book Wiggins dropped off the ground. He discovers that the book is titled Winnie-the-Pooh, the book they originally came here for. "So Wiggins was the one who wrote this book?"
"Makes sense," says Sora. "Only someone as fruity as him could've written a book with such annoying characters. I mean, why would he need them for the fight against The King Mickey? It's like sending a crate full of kittens to compete in a bullfight."
Scrooge begins to chuckle.
"That's not funny, Scrooge," rebukes Sora. "Everyone knows that a crate full of puppies would put up a better fight. The bull would be insulted to go up against kittens. And the moral of this story is: I'm gonna get rid of this thing so that Merlin or anyone else doesn't know of its existence. Would you like to do the honors, Buzz?"
Buzz sets his laser settings in preparation. "I was thinking the same thing, Sora. I'm setting this thing from 'Kill' to 'Toast'."
"Oh boy, some burninating action!" says Sora enthusiactically. "You always were a fan of the classics, Buzz."
Buzz presses a button on his arm, but instead of a red-hot laser, two pieces of toast burst out of the slot on Buzz's torso. Buzz takes the toast and rubs them on the ground, stumping Sora. "What the flock?"
"Only I can say that!" replies Donald.
Buzz puts the Winnie-the-Pooh book in between the two dirty pieces of toast and hands it to Scrooge. "Here, Scrooge. Lunchtime."
"But... it doesn't have too much mayo!" objects Scrooge.
Sora takes out his Keyblade and points it at Scrooge threateningly. "Eat it!!"
Scrooge reluctantly grabs the book sandwich and takes a loud bite out of it. Tears of misery stream down his face as he attempts to chew the combination of dirt-coated toast, mayo-less cardboard cover and acid-free paper. As the other Gaang members laugh at Scrooge's misfortune, another rip in space-time appears next to them. Merlin pokes his head out, even more irate than before.
"You miserable messiahs!! You destined dimwits!! You... nincombots!! You've messed up the natural order!! Bad things are going to happen now that you've changed the past!!"
Buzz checks his personal gadgets to make sure of this. "Well, according to my 'Alternate Timeline Databanks', the only things that have changed are Chevy Chase hosting The Tonight Show and Thomas Jefferson's head on Mount Rushmore being replaced with Merlin's head. So things don't look that bad, really."
Sora steps forward to lay down his decision. "Merlin, we don't need Winnie and the others to beat The King Mickey. What we need is-"
"I don't care what you think!" Merlin interrupts. "You've devastated the future thanks to your bumbling, and now you're going to pay!! I hope you like being buzzard food!!"
Merlin whips out his wand and flicks it at them, zapping the Gaang with a pink lightning bolt. The Gaang disappears in a bright flash.
"Looks like you won't be changing the future for a long, long time," Merlin says ominously.
"To be continued!" Cid shouts from behind, effectively ruining the suspenseful moment.
"Shut up, Cid!"
"Aww..."