Barack Obama and His Cabinet of Doom!: George Takei Will Destroy Us All

December 8, 2009

Grand Puddle, Idaho – William Shatner exits the Grand Puddle Convention Tent. The Grand Puddle Bi-Monthly Science Fiction Convention (The Gra-Pu-Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con) has reached it’s anti-climatic conclusion. Shatner lost the Sexiest Sci-Fi Septuagint Alive to Grand Puddle’s Mayor, a 3-legged dog that once went into space.

“Well, that was a waste,” Leonard Nimoy declared.

“Why do you keep dragging us to this stupid ‘Gra-Pu-Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con’,anyways, Bill?” queried Nichelle Nichols.

“Well, other than the $20 an appearance we make for showing up and cleaning the tent afterwards…” DeForest Kelley pointed out.

“I’m from San Fransisco.” George Takei lied.

“One of these days, this pissant town will give me the credit I deserve. And when I do, you all will be there to bask in my reflective glory.”

“Is that not completely delusional? I mean, they have voted for their canine mayor at every Gra-Pu-Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con since 1943.”

Before Shatner can respond, a radioactive meteor crashed into the convention tent. Space ash, potatoes, and yokels launched into the air, covering the cast of the original Star Trek in radioactive goo. Everyone else, of course, died, either being crushed by the meteor or hit over the head with falling potatoes.

“That was odd,” George Takei tried to declare. As he opened his mouth, a blast of laser fire erupted.

Leonard Nimoy gave out a mighty scream at the sight, shattering the skulls of the corpses that filled Grand Puddle.

“It appears that we have been given super-powers. How fortuitous. What can I do?” Nichelle Nichols asked. A hoard of lemmings came from the sea (don’t ask me how), bearing gifts to appease their new mistress. “Apparently, I can command lemmings to do my every whim. It’s just like in that one Star Trek movie we were in. What do you think, Bill?”

“I think you are unto something.” A giant mechanical pterodactyl said. It turned back into William Shatner.

“With these powers we could take over the world!”

“No, even better! We can get the respect we deserve. We will go to Hollywood and force them to give us the Oscar-winning roles our acting skills demand!”


“Let us open our meeting in prayer. Oh, generic concept of a Greco-Roman deity, we act like we care what you think, but we do not. You ask us to do things against we do not what to do, like having sex with other men and donkeys. So, as Hezekiah 5:98 says ‘when you approach a 4-way intersection, look both ways before continuing on your way’. The end.”

“How inappropriate. And you call yourself a bishop.” Steam Moose harrumphed, still trapped in The Hollywood Shambler’s cage.

“It’s not just me. A whole political party does too!” Vicki Gene Robinson declared.

Barack Obama flings a can at Steam Moose’s head, “Quiet you! We have bigger fish to fry. The Hollywood producers who helped me win the election needs my aid. They are being held under siege by the original cast of Star Trek. To Hollywood!”


Told you this will be the dumbest, craziest arc yet. And we have not even really started. Tune in next time for nerdy insanity.


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