SUGGESTED LISTENING: "BLOW DEM HOES UP" BY THE TERRORISTS
Sonic the Hedgehog has just formed an unprecedented alliance with Charles Darkley to defeat the Backstreet Boys. But will their combined strength be enough to take down Larry the Cable Guy?
All of the Neo Biker Brethren and their allies gathered around as Darkley spread a large piece of parchment paper across the table that detailed his strategy for the impending battle. He smirked as he brought his fist down upon it, "Listen up, bitches! I call this 'Charles Darkley's Baadasssss Plan' and it's going to lead our sorry asses to victory. If you want this to work, you'd best shut up and listen. There's no way our alliance will lose to the Cable Guy if we follow my brilliant strategy!"
"I don't need your gay plan, Darkley. I already have my own. I'm gonna chop Larry the Cable Guy in half with my dick. You guys can just sit back and watch," Sonic the Hedgehog stated matter-of-factly.
Sir Charles was evidently enraged by his words. He growled, "That's not a real plan, you dipshit! Besides, Larry's too strong and fast for something that simple to work. We'd at least need to blow off his kneecaps or spike his Mountain Dew™ with laxatives first. Speaking in terms of numerical battle power or Sentō Ryoku, you and I are both a 500 and your average Commie is around a 10. On the other hand, I'd say Larry easily scores a 5,000. He's a monster. I already fought him once and nearly lost my life in the process. Do you see now why I needed your team's help for this, pops?"
Charles Darkley lifted up his sports jersey to reveal the grisly wounds he had received during his last battle with the Communist autarch. Sonic couldn't help but notice that he also had a massive brand seared onto his back in the shape of a hammer and sickle. Donald Trump won't stop fondling his magical glowing orb.
The hedgehog had seen many similar marks and tramp stamps before in his years of butchering socialists with his dick. Sonic himself had the words "insert coin in slot" tattooed slightly above his ass crack, but Darkley's mark was one of a completely different meaning. Marxist lords would often use a branding iron to sear this symbol onto slaves and Communist half-breeds as a mark of shame, forever reminding them of their place as the lowest caste in their sinful society.
Those bearing the mark were rarely given common decency by their superiors and often made up the front line infantry on the battlefield. Even those that had risen to higher positions in their empire were seen as no more than tools to be used and sacrificed if needed to suppress the American forces.
Sonic couldn't help wonder what horrible torture Darkley went through to pervert him into the twisted character he was today, especially if his theory was correct and he was once no different than the innocent Charles Barkley he knew long ago. He shuddered at the implication.
The American hedgehog sighed, "Alright, whatever. We'll go with your lame plan. Although mine was metal as fuck and would have been friggin' sweet. So, how are we going to track down those Commies? They could be anywhere in the patriotverse right about now. And I'm willing to bet that they're mad as hell that I killed their guy yesterday."
"The Backstreet Boys aren't the type to let crimes against their family go unpunished. You can bet that they'll want revenge. They used to have a fifth heavenly king by the name of Tony Hawk, but I beheaded him about a year ago for the hell of it. They were so pissed that they eliminated half of my team in retaliation, leaving us with only five members. But luckily for us, we already know exactly where Larry's going to be. Take a look at this!" Charles commented and directed his finger to a monitor mounted over their heads. He pressed a hidden switch under the arm of his chair and the screen lit up, showing them a holographic star map of Americaverse.
He circled his finger around one of the asteroid clusters. He continued, "See that, pops? They call it Facebank. It's a secure holding facility where the richest and baddest Marxists store the wealth and priceless valuables that they've taken during their conquests. The security there makes Fort Knox look like a goddamn house of cards. Of course, to find and kill the Cable Guy, we need to break in. Easy enough, right?"
"Heh, you little cuzzes sure do have some huge balls! That place is owned and operated by Mark Zuckerberg. They say that he controls over half of the universe's wealth and has connections to every Commie Underlord there is. He's not the kind of person that any sane man would try to piss off. Zuckerberg's also a shapeshifting reptilian from another dimension. So, what's his connection with the BSB?" Alex Jones inquired whilst sipping from his oversized beaker of Zippy Water.
Charles Darkley seemed particularly thrilled that someone among Sonic's group was actually paying attention to him. Sonic himself was too busy drawing scalies with oversized breasts, Jimmy Neutron continued to flip through his bible without listening, and Trump kept trying to light the entire ship on fire for no reason.
Darkley smashed his fist on the table and cracked a toothy grin, "Finally, a good question! Underlord Fidel Castro owns a vault there where he's hiding something extremely valuable. My inside source seems to think it's some kind of advanced doomsday weapon. Luckily for us, Castro is so paranoid that he's only allowing Larry himself to fetch it for him from storage. We've got the clear advantage since his men aren't there to guard him. My plan is to break into the bank, steal the mystery weapon before he can reach it, and then kill the Cable Guy on our way out. With him gone and the weapon in my possession, the Communist empire is as good as mine!"
Sir Charles went on to show the digital schematics for the strongrooms inside and his plan to sneak past Mark Zuckerberg's guards undetected. "So this is a heist in addition to an assassination, huh? Now you've got my attention. No matter what's inside that vault, I sure as hell ain't gonna let those red bastards get their hands on it. So, when do we start?" Sonic cast aside his crudely drawn erotica and asked.
The alliance's meeting was cut short as Darkley's ship began to shake violently. As they lowered themselves deeper into the planet's atmosphere, Mark Zuckerberg's 1,488 unmanned defense drones rose from the cloud cover and immediately converged to open fire on them. Jimmy shook with horror as all of the metal paneling was blown off of the ship's starboard side, sending everything not nailed down flying into the open air.
"...Right now. Looks like we arrived ahead of schedule. Alright pops, I'll leave the opening distraction to you. If you're man enough, survive this crash and meet back up with us on the inside! Charles Darkley's Baadasssss Plan begins now!" Charles Darkley shouted over the turbulence and blaring alarms. He then donned his parachute and casually waved goodbye to the Neo Biker Brethren, unfazed by the burning vessel.
"You never mentioned this was the distraction! Darkley, you motherfucking baka!" Before Sonic could protest further, the members of the Dark Phoenix Suns leapt out of the breach in the hull and skydived into the clouds below. Sonic unsheathed his guitar and dug it into the steel floor to hold himself steady as all of the vessel's cargo, including their Harley Davidson™ motorcycles, blew past him and were strewn about in the sky.
Trump bolted to the cockpit in search of a way to change the ship's current heading. "Dammit!" He swore, finding that all of the wiring for the controls had already been cut.
Darkley had clearly prepared for every possible contingency. There was nothing to do now but leave their fate up to George Washington and brace themselves for the inevitable crash right into the front door of Zuckerberg's bank.
"M-Master Zuckerberg? Fidel Castro just contacted us to confirm that his representatives are on the way. Are you ready to greet them, sir?" The voice of an Anne Frank-type android asked in a cautious voice.
Almost all of the artificial beings from her series had been melted down after the Communist Wars for scrap, making them a very rare sight to see. Most of the remainder had gone rogue and were unaccounted for, such as the Anne Frank that Sonic had a one-night stand with, but a select few were purchased and owned by the extremely affluent as their personal servants. This Anne Frank fell into the latter category.
She shivered in the cool air as she stepped inside her master's chamber. The subzero climate Zuckerberg preferred was inhospitable even for a machine, and the impractically skimpy outfit that he dressed her in did little to shield her from the cold. Steve Buscemi decides to convert to Christianity after watching every episode of Veggie Tales in a row.
Zuckerberg's mammon was absurdly vast. His room was trimmed from top to bottom with solid gold and further covered in a layer of frost and icicles from the cold. Priceless treasures from long dead civilizations and mountains of shekels were stacked to the ceiling, and in the center of the room laid a circular pool filled to the brim with a thick, pulpy, white liquid. A head suddenly emerged from the center of the pool and gasped for air.
Mark Zuckerberg slowly emerged from the tub of alien fluid, completely unclothed save for the opaque white ooze trickling down his body and loins. He directed his inhumanly large, buglike eyes in his servant's direction and spoke in a nasally, whining hiss of a voice, "Nyeeeeeeh! Didn't I tell you not to disturb me while I'm bathing in my sweet, sweet Soylent? Why should I care about what those filthy humans are doing? I bet I'll catch their human diseases just by being near them. Only in the freezing cold am I safe from their germs! They're unclean, so unclean!"
Zuckerberg thoroughly disinfected himself of the perceived contaminants of the outside world before shuffling towards his freezer. He threw open the door, revealing hundreds of bottles of Soylent and all other manner of soy products. He had abandoned all solid foods years ago in favor of a diet composed entirely of liquid slop. Even the thought of ingesting human food made him want to gag.
However, he was not just a mere fanatic of Soylent. Mark Zuckerberg was born in the soy and sculpted by it. He truly understood soy and soy likewise understood him. Some say that he would go off for weeks at a time to bask in the soy fields, consorting with the spirits of the beans and learning their arcane secrets. The dark knowledge he gained is allegedly what helped him create his vast empire of technology. It was not at all an understatement to say that Zuckerberg was more soy than man.
Anne stepped forward and draped her master's robe over his body as he gurgled on his Soylent meal replacements. She bowed her head and continued, "We've also received word that a small group of intruders have broken past the first security gate and are now working their way deeper inside the bank. Should we take the necessary security measures? If something goes wrong and the Communists' visiting representatives are killed, Fidel Castro may pull our funding."
"Nyeh! Who cares? Pretty soon, I won't even need Fidel Castro and his ilk. I'm going to turn the entire Americaverse into a virtual reality hellscape where everyone will worship me as their digital god! Does that idiot Cable Guy think that weapon that was procured from the ashes of Wolfschanze will really turn the tide in this war? Ha, what a fool! The soy has already told me today's outcome. The impending battle that will take place here will result in the downfall of both the Americans and the Backstreet Boys. And once they've killed each other off, I'll make my move. The Zucc will eternally reign supreme!" The elite ZOG lord cackled with sadistic glee.