The Dark Empress sat at her throne, observing the news on multiple T.V. monitors. "All goes as planned."

"But Empress," said one of her servants, "the Republicans still hold power!"

"Fool!" the Empress shouted, "That is what I wanted. We wait for 2008 for my rise to power and the destruction of the world. Until then, we weaken the Republicans’ power." The Empress turned to face those before her. There was a towering demon, its eyes glowing of fire, horns spiraling from his head, and dark wings large enough to block the sun. He kneeled before the Empress and spaketh in a voice that would chill the soul of mortal man.

"I am Moloch, and I pledge to you the armies of hell." Behind the terror were countless more demons, gnashing their teeth and clawing the air in their hatred and anger.

Next to Moloch kneeled a man in a suit. "I am George Soros, and I pledge to you the armies of MoveOn.org." Behind the Hungarian were countless liberals, gnashing their teeth and clawing the air in their hatred and anger.

The Empress smiled. "And now the attack shall begin."

* * * *

"Pedro, I'm going to make a run for it."

"No, Sanchez, you don't want to try and cross into America now."

"Why not, Pedro? Because of those loco MinuteMen?"

"No. Because of the one know as 'El Estrangulador Rumsfeld.' All who sneak across the border are found dead with a note saying, 'Soy Donald Rumsfeld, y estrangulé a este hombre.' No one is sure what it means."

"That's just a crazy legend, Pedro."

"No! It's true! Also, with him is the beast known as 'El Chompacabra.' It is a monster composed only of teeth and anger."

"You believe too many silly stories, Pedro. Anyway..."

Beside the two, the earth ripped open and out poured forth the demons of hell, all running northward towards America and destroying everything in their path.

"Pedro! We must flee!"

"Yes! We must... oh, it's siesta time. We nap, then we flee."

* * * *

Chomps growled, angrier than his usual growl.

"What is it, boy?" Rumsfeld asked, not looking up from one of his war books.

Chomps wasn't sure. He felt angry at the very fabric of existence itself. Not sure how to maul the very fabric of existence itself, he attacked a potted plant.

Rumsfeld’s phone rang and he answered. "Hello."

"It's me, the President... President Bush, that is... the second President Bush. We've got trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Big trouble."

Rumsfeld grabbed his strangling gloves and headed out the door.

* * * *

"I've called you all to the war room because America is under attack from the forces of hell itself," Bush announced. "Mexican Attorney General, have you made any progress in stopping them?"

"They ain't exactly obeying the authority of the police," Gonzales answered.

"Well, have you contacted your brother Speedy to help out?"

Gonzales settled back in his chair and put his sombrero over his face. "One of these days I'm gonna cut you, you stupid gringo."

Bush tuned to Condoleezza Rice. "So what's the situation with other countries?"

"None are reporting any similar attacks."

"Just us then," Bush mused. "I wonder how the National Guard is doing. Someone radio them."

Over the speaker came, "This is Buck the Marine. I was on leave, but I heard fighting so I decided to join in."

"Kill any?" Bush asked.

"Ya see, that's the thing: they ain't exactly... what's that word... sounds like 'corporal'..."

"Corporeal," Condi answered.

"Yeah. They ain't that," Buck said, "I shot them good, but that didn't do nut'n. So I then tried praying at one, and stuck it with my KaBar. That sorta worked."

"Back when I was a kid," Rumsfeld growled, "When we got attacked by the legions of hell, we didn't make a big deal about it. Just grabbed a few holy artifacts and chased them away."

"That's what we need!" Bush exclaimed, "Holy artifacts!" He picked up the phone and dialed seven sevens. "Jesus, I need your help... Oh, Jesus isn't there. Could you leave Him a message, then? ...Tell Him if this is the end of time and there was a rapture, He forgot me and needs to come pick me up. If this isn't the end of time, then we need some help fighting the demons of hell and He's the only one who can give it because Buddha stopped returning my phone calls." Bush hung up. "I'm sure Jesus will get some help for us quick; He's one nice guy. Comes from a good family."

"Uh, Mr. President," White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan called out.

"Scott, I told you that when important things are happening that you're not allowed to talk," Bush responded angrily.

"But you might want to see this." Scott pointed to a T.V. screen on which a commercial was playing.

"Now, under Bush, we're being attacked by the legions of hell," the announcer said, showing scenes of the chaos. "Why? Because of the Bush administration’s association with the religious right. We've left the citizens of hell feeling like pariahs to our own government which should represent everyone. Just listen to this man who is foreign and thus smarter than you."

A Frenchman appeared on screen. "We care not for religion in our superior country, and thus we are not attack be zees devils. Peh! I spit on your stupidness."

"Wise words," the announcer continued, "but what does Mr. Bush do when trouble appears."

There was a still image of Bush on screen with his voice saying, "Jesus, I need your help."

"They tapped my phone!" Bush exclaimed. He then took out a hammer and smashed the phone to pieces. "That'll teach 'em."

"Is this separation of church and state?" the announcer asked, "Mr. Bush is only causing more attacks. If we want peace, we have to reject the religious extremists and reject the Republicans who are beholden to them. So, disassociate yourself from any religiousness, and the demons will leave us alone."

The final screen displayed the words, "This message was paid for by MoveOn.org."

"Stupid 527s!" Bush yelled. "Get McCain in here!"

Senator John McCain came in the war room. "What is it?"

Bush punched McCain in the face, dropping the Senator to the floor. "You're as mean as the Vietnamese!" McCain cried.

Bush shook his fist at McCain. "I'm just getting started." He then turned to face everyone else. "We have a big problem ahead of us, and we need to be together in facing it... even with the liberals nipping at our heels. This will be a big challenge, and it won't just be solved by punching McCain."

"Can I punch him anyway?" Condi asked.

"Sure."

TO BE CONTINUED...

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In My World
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