When we last saw our courageous Republican Superfriends, they were reeling from even further setbacks in their struggle to keep 'Merica from the terrorist tentacles of the shadowy Dr. Baracko! But fear not, faithful reader, for the feckless Democratic Leadership would yet again offer a helping hand to the Republican Superfriends in their moment of dire need!
Somewhere high in the mountains, in an unknown jihadist military compound sprawling amongst the clouds, a coven of congressional Democrats and Islamoblogger representatives from the Liberal Legion were holding a super-secret meeting with Dr. Baracko to strategize how he would penetrate the presidency and finally take over America and the World. Among the many sinister attendees were Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer, Islamoblogger mastermind Lord Kos, and the international fugitive genius Glenn Greenwald.
The highest-ranking among them sat in a semicircle at the center of a medieval greatroom lit only by torches - Reid and Hoyer dressed in their trademark diabolical suits, Lord Kos in his black leather trench coat, and Greenwald ensconced in cybernetic circuitry. Behind them, in shifting, shadowy huddles, lurked dozens of other congressional representatives and members of the Liberal Legion, visible only by their glowing, unblinking eyes.
The formalities having concluded, Mr. Reid put his hands together in a steeple and began the meeting's agenda.
"Dr. Baracko," he coolly began, "as our Chosen One, you now assume the great burden of leading our vast supervillain conspiracy to finally conquer the Free States of America and subject its countless innocents to forced abortions, conversion to Islam, perpetual slavery in the service of the poor, and mandatory homosexuality."
Dr. Baracko shut his eyes and nodded silently from the middle of the semicircle, his long legs crossed, arms stretched dominantly out over leather armrests.
Mr. Reid continued, "This means that you must fulfill the Legendary Democrat Prophecy-"
Lord Kos hissed loudly. Mr. Reid raised his voice, undeterred, "...as passed down through the ages by pure faith and oral tradition by the Beltway Knights."
Lord Kos leaped up from his chair, "Don't listen to them, Dr. Baracko! The Prophecy is false and will lead to your doom!" he cried, his voice echoing against the stone walls of the greatroom.
"Silence, heretic!" bellowed Mr. Hoyer.
A slight, knowing smile appeared at one side of Mr. Reid's mouth. "The Prophecy commands that, to win the presidency, the Chosen One must embark on a cosmic journey fraught with peril."
"No!" interrupted Lord Kos. The gallery of minions murmured and shifted nervously in the surrounding darkness.
"Yes. You must journey to the Great Center of the Political Galaxy." The murmurs grew louder. "The Prophecy portends that only once our Chosen One reaches the Great Center will he finally be immune to the punishing rays of criticism from the Republican Superfriends."
Lord Kos and Greenwald looked at each other. "It's a suicide mission, Dr. Baracko!" shouted Lord Kos.
"Not even our most sophisticated interstellar instruments have been able to accurately plot the location of this supposed 'Great Center.' It may not even exist," said Greenwald. "You could be lost in space, never to be found."
Random shouts from the gallery. "Listen not to the scurrilous heretics, Dr. Baracko," warned Mr. Hoyer. "The Prophecy must be followed."
Mr. Reid continued his exposition. "Having left your earthly domain here among the Liberal Legion, the Prophecy foretells that you will become one with the Great Center, achieving the celestial political approval of the Beltway Knights. You will become," Mr. Reid paused for effect, "Serious."
Mutters of delight rose up from the surrounding attendees.
Dr. Baracko stared pensively at the ceiling, inhaling deeply through his nose. "But what of the dangers Lord Kos and Greenwald have warned about?" he said.
"The heretics were half-right, as they often are," said Mr. Reid. "As I said, the journey will be fraught with peril." He aimed a pen-sized device at a floor panel in the middle of the meeting semicircle. It opened, and from it jumped a holographic image of a brilliant, spherical mass surrounded by a whirling band of mist.
Mr. Reid got up from his chair and approached the hologram. "To reach the Great Center, you must first penetrate the merciless ring of asteroids and toxic gases that spin violently around it to the right," he explained, pointing with his pen device at the misty ring surrounding the sphere of light. "The only way to survive this phase of the journey is to move with the destructive stream, hard to the right."
"These are lies, Baracko!" screamed Lord Kos, "The journey through the hard right ring could damage you permanently! Its intense gases could strip you of your soul and hurl you out into deep space!"
Greenwald joined in, "Our data indicates that it has happened many times before. Even if you make it through to the so-called 'Great Center,' our computer models show that you will not become invulnerable to Republican Superfriend criticism as promised by the Prophecy. You will simply spin ineffectually in place to the right for the rest of your political existence, unable to escape the immense gravitational pull."
In the corner of the room, the fish-headed Admiral Ackbar began to interject, "It's a t-"
Mr. Hoyer cut him off abruptly, "Don't start, Ackbar. No, we know that the Prophecy is not a trap because it has been told to us by none other than the great and wise Broda, the High Dean of the Beltway Knights."
Just behind Mr. Reid, the ancient and shriveled Broda sat cross-legged on a velvet pillow. The gallery buzzed with disbelief. "True the Prophecy is. Question it you shall not," he croaked.
Lord Kos shook his head with disgust, "Broda has proven that he only aids the Republican Superfriends! Why do you trust his advice?"
"Yes, he may consistently aid the Republican Superfriends, but the Prophecy depicts him as a worthy adviser to all factions."
Greenwald sputtered with astonishment, "But that same Prophecy comes from Broda and his fellow Beltway Knights. That logic is completely circular."
"Enough of your insolence!" roared Mr. Hoyer. "Royal Sentries, remove the bloggers immediately!"
Dr. Baracko raised a long hand, stopping the guards just as they were about to pluck Lord Kos and Greenwald from their seats. "There will be no need for that," he said gently. "I am impressed by how old and oddly trusted Broda is, and the Beltway Knights have told me themselves that I must trust the Beltway Knights, just as the Prophecy demands that I adhere to the Prophecy."
"Don't do it, Dr. Baracko!" wailed Lord Kos.
Dr. Baracko again raised his hand. "Prepare a rocket ship for me to blast away from our base. I must get to the Great Center of the Political Galaxy."
TO BE CONTINUED!