Hell in a Handbasket, Part 1 – Stratego

I am so mad! I am firey hot mad as as a white-hot-glowing-death-star-laser-beam-of-death mad! Everything has gone to hell in handbasket! Everything! The Republic of Tinselman is crumbling beneath our tiny little Tinselistic feet! Are we completely lost? Like little lost children, out on an ocean of... a place where people tend to get lost.

Harken unto me. Much has happened my precious citizens. Much has gone wrong.

In short, our uniforms still aren't ready, I got a damn alien chip planted in my chest, Brad and Angelina are no longer sleeping together, and Wikipedia is run by a bunch of egomaniacs that can't seem to grasp the larger picture!

Yes, it's true... the uniforms still aren't ready for our continuing war with the United States of America. As you probably already know, M.O.D.S. (otherwise known as Mothers of Dress & Safety) utterly blew it. So I took over and here's the insignia I designed for each shirt: (click to enlarge)

Looks pretty good, doesn't it? But there's a gigantimungo problem... Rupey (Rubert Murdoch), was going to line up the funds for the uniforms' bullet proof padding and, without that padding, the uniforms are pretty much useless. Rupey's response to this?... "Shortages of armor don't stem from a lack of money but are a matter of physics. The manufacturers of add-on armor are producing it as fast as humanly possible. You go to war with the Army you have, not the Army you might want or wish to have."

But that's just the beginning of our problems! There was also the abduction. Which, I can assure you, was one of the most terrifying moments of my life.

It all started rather suddenly. Wilmey and I were were playing Stratego. He was beginning to get a bit cocky so I threw a few lit fire-crackers onto the board and claimed immediate victory (because the Khan must always win)! While he was still nursing his burnt fingers, Brad and Angelina walked in. That's right, citizens... none other than the Snake and the Roach! And need I remind you why we (figuratively) cast them out amoung the very lowest of the creeping, crawling beasts? Because they abandoned us in the time of our greatest need (immediately before the U.S. attacked)!

Angelina spoke first: "Khan Robyn, we've been so broken up over this! Please take us back! What we did was totally twisted! And wrong. I don't know what got into us! This whole Republic of Tinselman thing is our life! There must be a way to make it up to everyone... and repay the Republic for what we've done!"

"Stop it!" I yelled. "Just don't even say these things to me! You Hollywood creeps. How could you have done this to us? You lowly worms! You un-tinselistic ugly person (even though you are physically quite attractive)! You were the mother of the Republic! They trusted you! Wilmey trusted you! Here amongst us, you were something more than glamor and pouty lips... and now––"

This is as far as our conversation got. There was suddenly a flash. Everything went black and I remembered no more.

I'm tired of even writing this. The subject wears me. I'll continue the story when my Khan-like energy has returned.

Sincerely,
The Khan

(Stay tuned for Hell in a Handbasket, Part 2 – The Abduction)

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