Philosophical Vegan Forum

NOTE: Since I put nothing in the rules about replying to oneself, that's exactly what I'm going to do. Also, I didn't know whether to refer to myself as Zzzzz (can't be arsed to type the whole thing out) because that's the name you all know me as, or as Blue, because that's what I'm called on Red's discord server. So I just called myself the Vice President.

The Blue House (Capital of the Jewnited States), Wyoming

Austin Goldman, the Vice President of the Jewnited States, was sitting in his quarters drinking his coffee and rocking back and forth in a state of worry. Robo-Trump, the golem which his people had created, had betrayed them and if the cybernetic dotard was to have his way, the JSA would be a footnote in the history books before they’d even had time to work on a better name. He felt a great state of worry. He had heard of the horrors of the anti-semitic pogroms that had spread across the USA, encouraged by President Spencer, and doubted that they would end under President Red. When the Jewnited States came into existence, the Jewish people had finally had a homeland in America, just as they had in the Middle East when Israel had came into existence. Nevertheless, Goldman lamented, all good things must come to an end.

… Or must they?

A light bulb lit itself above Goldman’s head! Israel! They would naturally sympathize with the JSA’s struggle for existence. Oh, if Robo-Trump thinks he’ll be able to hand them over to Red, he’ll have another thing coming! His laser eyes would be no match for the sheer force of the Israeli Defense Forces! Quickly, Goldman got on the telephone to Israeli Prime Minister Ibrahim Netanyahu.

“Hello” came his raspy voice.

“Ibrahim!”

“Austin! How the devil are you?”

“Not too good, that’s why I was phoning. You’ll have heard about Robo-Trump, yes?”

“Ah yes, he’s been hacked into by North Korea, right?”

“Well we suspect so. Anyway, we were hoping you could send a couple of fighter jets over to sort him out?”

“Mhmm. No can do, I’m afraid. With Spencer gone, we were hoping that Red would lift some of the sanctions that the U.S. put on us. As a result, we don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“But you must have heard some of the stuff his Vice President has been saying about you! He’s called your government butchers! He’s radically anti-Israel and…”

“Yes, yes, and he loves North Korea and wants a one world government as well. Of course we’ve heard about that. He’s a nutter. But he’s not the President now, is he? In fact, we’re suspecting that Red only picked him because he’s so crazy. Crazy is the new cool now. President Johnson understood that. I mean Gary Johnson, not Lyndon Johnson. That’s why he picked James Weeks as his VP. Poor Gary, he’ll forever be remembered as the President who only got elected because his running mate stripped naked at a party conference.”

“So, you won’t help us?”

“Afraid not, Mr. Vice President”

Goldman immediately hung up. Then, another light bulb immediately lit up. South Korea! They’ll be worried sick that their commie neighbours have hacked into a world leader! He immediately dialed the number of South Korean President Moon Da-hye.

“Moon!” said Golman “I suspect that you’ve heard the news!”

“About Robo-Trump? Yes, we do not believe that the North hacked into him. Such rumours are very harmful at the minute and could disrupt the peace that has existed on our peninsular for thirty-eight years. I will be meeting the Supreme Leader Kim Yo-jong tomorrow as a matter of fact to discuss…”

He didn’t let her finish her sentence. He hung up. Another lightbulb! Japan! They had been the first country to condemn North Korea for the hacking of Robo-Trump! He immediately dialed the number of Japanese Prime Minister Makoto Sakurai.

“Hello, I know that you probably don’t know me as I’ve only really rose to prominence in the last couple of months or so, but you see…”

“This is JSA Vice President Austin Goldman, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And you want our assistance to take out Robo-Trump, yes?”

“Yes.”

“What’s in it for us?”

“What?”

“What’s in it for us?”

“Well, you know, you’ll prevent the spread of international communism and…”

“Yes, we know, but what will we get out of it?”

“I… I don’t…”

“We demand the state of Montana in return for our assistance.”

“Um, well… uh…”

“You have thirty seconds to decide. 30… 29… 28…”

“It’s done! We’ll give you the state of Montana! A JSA without Montana is better than no JSA at all I suppose”

“Good choice” said Prime Minister Sakurai, then he hung up.

Sighing to himself, Goldman opened his laptop and turned on his webcam to record this message which he would go on to upload to the internet for the world to see:

“My fellow Jewmericans, you will have heard that Robo-Trump has gone rogue and is determined to turn over our great nation to the USA. Let me assure you that I am the legitimate President of the Jewnited States of America and I am bringing our country into alliance with Japan in order to crush this attack against our sovereignty, undeniably caused by the North Koreans. We will never give in. We will never surrender. God bless the JSA.”

A McDonald’s, Washington D.C.

“Mmmm” said Prager, wolfing down his vegan Big Mac. “That’s the good stuff! The wonders of capitalism! McDonald’s work so hard to please the consumer, they can even make vegan crap taste good!”

“I do not see what your issue is with a vegan diet,” contested Skinner. “I am considering it myself actually as I do not think it is fair the amount of suffering that an animal must be put through just to be turned into food”.

“Well,” said Prager, “I suppose that that outlook is inevitable with secular values. Without the belief that God created mankind in his own image, there is no reason to prioritize a human life over that of an animal. It just breaks my heart that America is destined in the future to turn its back on the Judeo-Christian values that made it great. Tell me, Skinner, are you so happy to see the values that made your nation great being reversed?”

“I’m British” said Skinner bluntly. “It’s another reason why I get confused with the Dennis Skinner”.

“Who is this other Dennis Skinner anyway?”

“He is, or rather was (possibly still is but is most likely dead), the MP for Bolsover. An ardent socialist.”

“Hmph” grunted Prager, “If you want to see how socialism works, just take a look at Venezuela.”

“Venezuela has 78% of its economy in the private sector. Norway has a higher public sector, and its economy is held up by its oil industry which is under public ownership.”
“Yes, well let’s just see how your beloved Norway is doing now, shall we?” he turned to the guy sitting behind him: a rather large, bald man with a chin-beard. “Hey, how is Norway doing at the minute?”

“Huh?”

“I mean economically, how is it doing? I know it’s a weird question but I’m a time traveler from the year 2018.”

“Yeah, and I’m Barney the Purple Dinosaur.”

“I mean it!”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, what’s your son doing?” he asked, gesturing to Skinner who was now fiddling with his diddle.

“Skinner, stop that!” yelled Prager.

“I’m not his son,” said Skinner, putting his diddle away, “both my parents are dead, I’m an orphan.”

“Are you some kind of kiddy-fiddler?” asked the bald man to Prager.

“What? No, of course not! He got abducted by aliens and then they all died and he flew their spaceship to Mars where I had been living for 10 years and then we walked around and found a time machine buried and we flew it over here.”

“Yeah, whatever, sicko. I’m calling the cops.”

“I swear, it’s the truth!”

“Okay then, who’s the President of the United States in 2018?”

“Donald Trump.”

“Donald Trump? The reality TV star? He’s President?!”

“Look, I can prove that I’m a time traveler, my time machine’s a couple of blocks away.”

“Okay, but it hurts after I walk a long while, so this better be real otherwise somebody’s getting punched in the face.”

And so, Skinner, Prager and the bald man walked for around 10 minutes until they got to the spot where they had left the time machine. Luckily, it was still there and nobody had stolen it otherwise that could have led to some hilarious situation where Prager would be left looking like a crazy paedophile. But no, that didn’t happen.

The bald man shrugged his shoulders, “Well, okey dokey, that sure is a time machine. I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Ulous.”

“Dennis Prager, and this little man here is Dennis Skinner.”

“So can this time machine change location as well as time?”

“Yes, it’s like the TARDIS.”

“Cool, so I could go to the White House right now?”

“Yes, but please don’t do tha…”

But before Prager could protest, Bob had already gone in the time machine and set the coordinates to the oval office. Prager and Skinner both grabbed onto the sides of the time machine and they all disappeared, transported away.

The White House, Washington D.C., A couple of minutes before Prager, Skinner and Ulous set off for that destination in their time machine

President Red was sitting in the Oval Office, contemplating the fact that he was indeed the holder of the highest office of the planet, and that this was not just a dream (which he knew for sure as he had pinched himself several times). A blue-faced man entered into the room.

“Ah, my dearest Vice President! Please, take a seat.”

His Vice President clearly mistook this as a request to sit on Red’s desk, because that is exactly what he did. Red made no remark of protest, he did not even laugh or sigh. It was simply the behaviour he had come to expect.

“I’ll suppose you’ve heard about the whole Robo-Trump affair?” was the first thing to have come out of his VP’s mouth.

“Of course, how could I not have done?”

“And you’ll have heard about the far-right mass protests that have happened in response to Goldman’s declaration?”

“What? No!”

“Yes, ironic that this sort of ultranationalism is the reason my family fled Japan, and yet the reason I came here to America in order to aid you in defeating. They’ve been marching not only against Goldman, but also against you and myself.”

“They’ve been marching against you?”

“Yes, they say that I was not born in the United States and that I am a spy from the DPRK.”

“I’m so sorry that you should be dragged into this.”

“Don’t worry about it. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to be your running mate back in 2018. And to be fair, they’re half-right. We both know that I was not born in the United States.”

The Vice President still retained his British citizenship. He planned to head back there once he had aided Red in his efforts to fix the compost-heap that was America. Britain was very prosperous, flourishing under the even hand of the 107-year-old Prime Minister Jeremy Corbyn (kept alive, along with his comrades John McDonnell and the Dennis Skinner thanks to the excellency of the socialist NHS), who had abolished term limits shortly after he was elected in 2022 when Theresa May was considered very unpopular due to the fact that she had screwed up the Brexit negotiations and Scotland had just gained independence (Scotland later reunited with the rest of Britain during Corbyn’s second term).

“Do you reckon the North Koreans did hack into Robo-Trump, then?” asked the Vice President to his superior.

“It certainly doesn’t look like it,” said Red. “But the question is, who did?”

The VP’s mind traced back to 2016 when Russia was suspected to have hacked the U.S. election, however, Russia had fragmented into several states after the death of Putin in 2033.

“As well as that, pretty much every world leader has immediately pinned the blame on the North Koreans, the only exceptions are South Korean President Moon Da-hye, British Prime Minister Jeremy Corbyn, Pakistani Prime Minister Malala Yousafzai and myself,” explained Red.

“All the right people,” asserted the Vice President.

At that moment, a time machine popped itself into the room, startling the pair of them.

“Oh my God, Red, it really is you! You look even redder than you do on the television!” exclaimed a wild-eyed Bob, grasping Red’s red hand. “I voted for you! I’m a massive fan! I’ve got no idea what you policies are and to be honest, I don’t know anything about politics. But I just had to vote for you! Your face is so red, it’s crazy!”

Red exchanged a worried look with his Vice President. A similar look was exchanged between Skinner and Prager.

"Look, I appreciate your support, but I do not appreciate a person who is ignorant of why they voted for the person they voted for. You should get the hell out of my office right now, or else I'll get the Secret Service to do it for you. Leave."

Bob stood there, speechless. After a few seconds, he realized something, and said "Mr. President, don't you remember me? You considered me to be your running mate back in 2018."

President Red sat in deep thought, and finally said "I do remember you now. I'm thankful I didn't pick you, you witless peon. Security!"

4 dozen cyborgs entered the room and started beating Bob to a bloody pulp, getting blood all over the newly decorated office. They carried him outside to revive him. A maid-bot came in and cleaned up, as if nothing ever happened.

Skinner started to fiddle with his diddle to ease his trauma.

"What the hell are you doing?!" said Red.

"He does that when he's scared. Skinner, why don't you do that in one of the bathrooms?"

Skinner nodded and walked with his pants around his ankles to find the bathroom.

"Okay, now who the hell are you?" said an increasingly frustrated Red.

Prager explained how he and Skinner met, and how they got to the year 2056.

"Fine whatever, I don't really give a shit. You can stay in the White House until you get your affairs in order. But leave my VP and I alone, and you are NOT to sit in the dining room that has the portrait of Abraham Lincoln."

Prager nodded and didn't object, since he didn't want to be beaten to a bloody pulp.

"I hope I don't have to deal with this crap everyday for the next 4-12 years (referring to the 32nd amendment which allows a maximum of 3 terms)."

"Forget them Red. Let's work on the Red Deal now, shall we? We seem to have a very cooperative Congress and Supreme Court."

"Should we deal with the rising tensions for now? It's hard to worry about both a domestic program and a possible Civil War."


"Yeah, but we should now that we have the opportunity. I mean come on, we STILL don't have a Universal Health Care System. It looks like they're gonna be facing a war on 2 fronts unless they get support, which seems likely with the whole Goldman affair."

"Fuck this, we're consulting the Cabinet."

Red sent for his Secretaries of Defense, State, and Homeland Security, along with the Attorney General (brimstone, EquALLity, Jebus, and Cirion respectively).

Meanwhile, in the Green Room of the White House.

Prager looked admirably at the portrait of Benjamin Franklin. Skinner was sitting staring at the Portrait of Donald Trump.

"I don't like it here, Prager," said a depressed Skinner. "I wanna go home."

"Oh come now Skinner! We get to stay in the White House, without any of the cares of actually being President. And we're in the future, with the luxury of amazing technology! Be happy that you're young and get experience this."

"I guess that's true." Skinner said, after a robot butler served him vegan chocolate from the chocolate factory in the White House. "Does President Red have a First Lady?" he asked.

"I know you're planning on fiddling your diddle to her, but most first ladies aren't really all that attractive, other than Jackie Kennedy. Now don't start getting aroused at the thought of Jackie Kennedy! Anyways, I haven't seen her yet if there is one. Come, let's look at the Presidential Portraits."

Skinner and Prager walked around the White House. Prager was actively looking for the Presidential Portrait of Ronald Reagan, while Skinner was just fascinated at how big the place was and how expensive everything was. He tried his best not to touch anything.

Meanwhile, in the Cabinet Room.

Look, our military is stronger than every other military on this Earth, and the JSA isn't in a stable place right now. Let's go in and kick their ass!

Yeah, but even if we kick their asses, allies to the JSA will unite against us somehow. In fact, they're probably sending for support right now!

Well, we can enlist in the support of the UN and overwhelm them.

Yeah, but some UN members are allies with nations that are allied with the UN, creating this huge clusterfuck.

Diplomacy can work. I have connections, remember?

Yeah but everyone thinks you're this defector and flip flopper, further clustering the fuck. Not to mention, legality of going to war with them may be questionable.

We're not concerned with the law! We're here to save the Union and abolish meat eating!

That requires a Constitutional Amendment, which you have to get the states to ratify, and good luck with that. And we'll see if Congress is willing to give you your declaration of war!

We're not too worried about the latter, but the first seems daunting. Gonna have to pull a few strings.

Red slammed his fist.

If Congress refuses, fuck them, we're going to war! We don't need a damn declaration, we haven't even recognized them! We are not going to lose 50 states and only have 50 left. We are one! Jebus, I want you to create a stronger and more intelligent unit of drones for the mainland and war front! Cirion, I want you to suspend habeas corpus! brimstone, get the military ready! EquALLity, see who's willing to assist us! Blue, handle domestic affairs! I'm going to go to Congress to see what they say. Now go dammit, now!

Everyone rushed out.

Red ran to his office.

"Computer! Bring me the cybernetic Ulysses S. Grant! We're gonna need him.'

The Grant bot was transmitted right in front of the office. It looked and sounded surprisingly human.

"Mr. Grant, your country needs you. I hereby reinstate your rank as General of the Army!"

In the Senate.

"There is no just cause for another Civil War!"

"They're secessionist traitors!"

"Give peace a chance!"

"We gave it a chance! It didn't work!"

Suddenly, the doors flew open, and Hail to the Chief started playing. Everyone shut up. President Red and VP Blue took their respective seats. The President Pro Tempore took her seat as well.

President Red gave an impromptu speech for about 45 minutes about the political, economic, moral, and social reasons to go to war. After that, the Senate unanimously agreed.

"That was easy."

I'm gonna tell them about the domestic program and the 52 points.

"Cool. Lemme go take care of this war."

Back in the White House.

Skinner was sleeping in one of the bedrooms when suddenly the door opened slowly.

"Hello?" asked a feminine British voice.

Skinner couldn't make out the colors of the figure, but he looked in the doorway and saw an average heighted, voluptuous lady with thick hair.

Skinner wasn't too frightened and had an urge to fiddle with his diddle, but resisted in case the lady was ugly.

The light turned on and revealed a pretty lady with red lips, blonde hair, and wearing a night gown. She introduced herself as Alice.

The urge to fiddle with his diddle was so immense that Skinner had to excuse himself, run to the bathroom, and cum all over the place upon entering. The orgasm was so immense that his testicles shrank to nanoscopic size and he subsequently passed out.

In the Oval Office.

President Red was busy writing executive orders to prepare for the war. Suddenly, Blue ran in with a pile of papers and slammed them onto his desk.

Mr. President! I told all of Congress about 15 of your policy ideas, and they all said yes! Just sign them and you'll be on your way to fulfilling your agenda!

Blue, I appreciate this, but I'm not sure if we'll be able to carry them out for now with this war coming up. Tell Congress I'm not going to veto them, but put them on hold until we see how this war plays out. Tell them we may need more funding for war related projects.

Vice President Blue looked dejected, but accepted it and teleported to Congress to tell them. Congress understood and accepted putting the bills on hold, but the Senate had to agree on increasing funds for the war, and there was a 50-50 tie in the votes that Vice President Blue had to decide on breaking.

Blue, without a moment’s hesitation, broke the tie in favour of increasing funds for the war. He had previously wanted funding for domestic areas, but understood that there was a war on now and it would have to wait. Besides, Red wanted increased funding for the war, and therefore it had to be right. “Yes”, he thought, “If I want us to succeed in our revolutionary crusade against meat eating secessionists, I will have to put aside my principles. The only principle I will not sacrifice is my loyalty to Red. Red is love, Red is life”.

The Oval Office

President Red was sitting in the Oval Office fiddling with some paperwork to do with the war. Suddenly, the door opened and the cybernetic Ulysses S. Grant walked in.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Mr. President.”

“Ah, Robo-Grant! Of course you’re not disturbing me. As a matter of fact, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about matters concerning the war.”

“Mhmm, yes, the war. Actually, Mr. President, that’s the reason I’m here. I think we may have to put preparations for the war on hold at the moment.”

“What? Why?”

“At the moment, we don’t appear to have a chance of winning. Japan’s on their side…”

Japan’s army had increased its military potential over the previous years of governments which were each more militaristic than the last. It was now fully capable of taking on, and defeating, the United States in battle, in spite of Jebus's claim that the U.S. military was stronger than every other military on earth.

“...and besides, almost the entire planet is against us, due to the fact that they are convinced that the DPRK was behind the hacking of Robo-Trump. The only exceptions are Prime Ministers Corbyn and Yousafzai, neither of whom would be inclined to bring their countries into the war.”

“There’s also the two Koreas.”

“Well, yes, but we ought not to get our hopes up that either will be inclined to enter. Besides, both their militaries have been diminished due to each wanting to prove their desire for peace to each other. Now here is why I say we put preparations for the war on hold for a while: I am on the verge of a breakthrough in finding out from which location the attack on Robo-Trump came from. In doing so, I could rally the international community behind us by proving that the attack did not come from the DPRK. However, this is unlikely to be necessary, as I believe that the primary reason Goldman is so hostile to peace talks with you is due to the fact that he believes you collaborated with the DPRK in order to hack into Robo-Trump. If we prove this to be the case, and the USA and JSA conduct a joint attack on Robo-Trump, Goldman may agree for the JSA to reunify with the USA.”

“How long will it take for you to discover where the attack came from?”

“The best case scenario is 2-3 weeks, it will most likely be longer.”

“Goddamnit! We can’t wait that long! And you think Goldman will listen to reason? He’s a nutcase! The war must go on!”

Robo-Grant, incapable of protesting against his organic superior, simply responded “Yes, mister President.”

Seoul, South Korea

“Before we say anything else,” began Moon Da-hye, “I want to get one rather unpleasant topic out of the way.”

Kim Yo-jong looked at her momentarily, before responding “Go ahead.”

“At some point, we will both receive a phone call from U.S. President Red asking us to intervene in the civil war that is happening in America at the minute.”

Kim nodded.

Moon continued, “I hope that you are in agreement with me when I propose that we both decline. At the minute, we have far too many concerns at home which prevent us from being entangled in foreign affairs”.

“Absolutely,” said Kim, “Now let’s move on to the matter of my government funding a new set of nuclear power stations in your country…”

The Green Room

“...and when I returned to my room, she was gone!” exclaimed Skinner to Prager, recounting the experience of seeing the mysterious Alice the night before. “And the weirdest thing is, when I began fiddling with my diddle, all this weird white stuff came out and went everywhere!”

Prager himself looked white with horror. “That last part is perfectly normal for a boy your age, but the rest isn’t. The very same thing happened to me last night.”

“Did you go to the loo to fiddle with your diddle as well?”

"Yes, and when I came back, she was gone."

“I bet she’s the first lady.”

“Who just happens to be walking into both of our rooms?”

The door creaked open, and Blue walked in. He had just gotten back from the thing he was doing where he got the senate to increase fundings for the war, and now he was just checking on the two guests to make sure that they were okay. Red had previously instructed them not to go near him, but later put Blue in charge of them, not realizing that the two instructions contradicted because he was too busy with the war.

“Hey guys,” he said, “I am just checking to see that everything is all right”.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” said Prager, wiping breadcrumbs off of his mouth, “Say, Blue, do you know anything about a lady named Alice?”

“Alice?” asked Blue, “Unfortunately, her name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You don’t know a blonde British woman named Alice?” asked Prager.

Blue’s shade of face, usually a bright turquoise shade, now turned pale, and he pulled out his phone and started typing something, before showing it to Skinner and Prager.

“Is this the lady you mean?” he asked, showing a picture of an average-heighted blonde lady with red lips who looked exactly like the one they had seen the night previously.

“The very same,” said Prager.

“Then you,” said Blue, his voice now much more sullen, “have just seen the ghost of Alice Carrington.”

“What? Ghosts aren’t real!” exclaimed both Prager and Skinner and unison.

“When you die, that’s it!” said Skinner “There’s no afterlife! No ghosts!”

“Well that’s the exact opposite of what I was going to say, but ghosts aren’t real. God rewards the worthy in heaven and punishes sinners.”

“He punishes me?” asked Skinner, worriedly.

“I said sinners, not Skinner!” said Prager.

“Look, do you want me to tell you about Alice Carrington or not?” asked Blue, now beginning to lose his cool.

They both shut up, and Blue took their silence as a “yes”.

“Dennis Prager (I mean the other one) during his years of presidency would often hire prostitutes, despite portraying himself as the epitome of family values outwardly. A fetishist, he would get them to perform acts of a rather grotesque nature, usually involving celery sticks. His favourite was Alice, because there was nothing he could not pay her to do. That was eventually her downfall. She died of autoerotic asphyxiation. Legend has it that she haunts not just the White House but the entire country of the United States, appearing to Americans who she deems have great potential, and giving them an insatiable urge to…”

“...masturbate?” asked both Dennises in unison.

“What? No!” yelled Blue

“Well that’s what we both did” explained Skinner.

“Now that I did not need the know!” stated Blue, “Anyway, what I was going to say is that she gives Americans an insatiable urge to fulfil their destiny, providing them with the courage to do so.”

“Sounds like a lot of nonsense to me” said Prager.

“I can’t believe you’ve seen her and yet you doubt her! I used to be a skeptic like you,” said Blue, “but then I saw her face, and now I’m a believer.”

“You’ve seen her?” asked Skinner, “Did you have to go to the toilet and wank as well?”

“What? Look, that’s none of your business, okay!” yelled Blue

“Ignore him,” said Prager, “What did she appear to you for?”

“Well, it was in 2055 when Red and I were campaigning, and I had survived an assassination attempt the previous day by a far-right nutjob who thought that I was a North Korean spy. I was considering dropping myself from the ticket but she gave me the courage to stay on and now I’m the Vice President” said Blue.

“Huh, that’s pretty interesting” said Prager, “I wonder why she appeared to Skinner and me then. Well anyway, how are those commie economic policies of yours going?”

“Uh, yeah, we’ve put those on hold for a while,” said Blue, now turning a bit pink, “we need to increase funding for the war”.

“Oh yes, with the Jewnited States!” recalled Prager, “It’s a good thing that at least you pinkos can realize that often war is an inevitability. Still, I’ll expect a pair of peaceniks like you have waited until every diplomatic option has failed first before you came to that understanding, right?”

“Well, um, not really,” explained Blue, “We’ve not really gotten in touch with Goldman. We think he’s crazy and won’t cooperate with us.”

“And you haven’t even tried to reach out to him?” asked Prager.

Blue shook his head.

“You unprincipled piece of shit!” yelled Prager, slamming his fist hard on the table. “Come on Skinner, I now know exactly why Alice appeared to us!”

“Where are we going?” asked Skinner.

“To the time machine. I’m going to Wyoming to pay Goldman a visit. It’s time to have a little chat - Jew to Jew.”

Blue appeared lost for words, before blurting out “... YOU'RE an unprincipled piece of shit!”

The Oval Office

Blue stood before Red, having just explained the situation to him, on the verge of tears.

“Goddamnit, what should we do, boss? What should we do?”

Red remained silent for a moment, before saying “We aren’t going to let a couple of time travelers get in our way now, are we? The plans for the war to go ahead are in place, we just have to make sure it goes as swimmingly as possible. Tomorrow, I’m going to telephone Moon Da-hye and Kim Yo-jong who will undoubtedly be on my side. Together, we will be unstoppable, especially with Robo-Grant leading our troops.”

Blue calmed down, but still appeared very worried.

“Now Blue,” said Red, “I know that you have a lot of concerns about this war, I know that you’d rather see the money being put into domestic affairs, but you’re going to have to put those concerns aside for the time being.”

“Absolutely! They were never in my head to begin with! My only concern is to kick the arses of the JSA!”

“Good...” grinned Red. “Do I have your absolute and unquestioning loyalty?” he asked, rubbing his hands like a movie villain.

“Yes!” yelled Blue. “I would die for you and I would kill for you!”

“Excellent,” said Red, “because once we’ve retaken control of the territories of the JSA, we’re going to go further. I plan to expand our reaches across the entire North American peninsular. I will reign supreme, and you Blue, will rule by my side.”

“There is nothing I’d like more,” said Blue, his eyes gleaming with admiration.

“Wonderful,” said Red, “I now think that it’s time to declare a state of martial law”.

The Time Machine

“Very soon,” said Prager to Skinner, “You’re going to see that I was right when I told you that the ideas of Red would only lead to more misery and hardship”.

NOTE: There is another post I made above this one.

The Blue House, Wyoming, J.S.A.

Austin Goldman was sitting in the Circle Office eating his ham sandwich. The robot butler, which had just served him the sandwich, asked "Doesn't that go against Jewish dietary laws?"

"Frankly my dear," said Goldman, "I don't give a ham."

Suddenly, the door was kicked down and a tall, muscular silhouette came into view.

"Who the heck are you!" yelled Goldman.

"A Jew, an American and a conservative! In that order!" bellowed the voice of Dennis Prager.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz wrote: ↑Sat Jun 16, 2018 7:34 am NOTE: There is another post I made above this one.

The Blue House, Wyoming, J.S.A.

Austin Goldman was sitting in the Circle Office eating his ham sandwich. The robot butler, which had just served him the sandwich, asked "Doesn't that go against Jewish dietary laws?"

"Frankly my dear," said Goldman, "I don't give a ham."

Suddenly, the door was kicked down and a tall, muscular silhouette came into view.

"Who the heck are you!" yelled Goldman.

"A Jew, an American and a conservative! In that order!" bellowed the voice of Dennis Prager.

Buckingham Palace, London, Britain

Buckingham Palace had been converted into an animal shelter after the abolition of the monarchy. In the middle of it all was an Epicurean commune which worked as the headquarters of Prime Minister Corbyn and his loyal comrades, John McDonnell and the Dennis Skinner. They had all grown very irritable and cranky with age (excluding Skinner who was already like that). So when Corbyn received a phone call from President Red, it came as a shock to nobody that he picked it up and yelled: "WHO THE FUCK IS THIS CALLING AT THIS TIME IN THE BLEEDING DAY!"

"Jezza," said Red, "You've gotta help me out here. Please, please, PLEEAASE bring Britain into the American civil war. I know you don't like war but Kim Yo-jong and Moon Da-hye have both declined and you're my only hope."

"DENNIS, WILL YOU STOP FIDDLING WITH YOUR DIDDLE!" yelled John McDonnell "YOU'RE 123 YEARS OLD, YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO THAT YOU CAN'T GET IT UP!"

"What was that?" asked Red

"Oh that was just John McDonnell telling Dennis Skinner to stop fiddling with his diddle." explained Corbyn.

"He's there?!" asked Red in a state of frenzy "Is Dennis Prager there as well?!"

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD DENNIS PRAGER BE HERE?! LAST I HEARD, HE CHOKED TO DEATH ON A FUCKING CELERY STICK!" yelled Corbyn.

"Wait a second," said Red "Do you mean the MP, Dennis Skinner?"

"YES! WHO THE BLEEDING FUCK ELSE WOULD I HAVE MEANT?!?" yelled Corbyn getting louder and louder by the second.

"You didn't mean a very weird child?"

"No!"

"Okay, so will you bring Britain into the war?"

"Look Red, we've got enough domestic concerns as it stands before we can worry about entangling ourselves in foreign alliances," explained Corbyn "We're still trying to get euthanasia legalized so that John, Dennis and I can reach the blissful end to our godforsaken lives that we've been prevented from reaching due to the wonders of a socialist healthcare system!"

"So you're just gonna leave me here?" asked Red, "Come on Jezza, I thought you were my friend!"

"Listen Red," said Corbyn, "If there's one thing I know that works, it's the good old-fashioned art of diplomacy. I'm going to go over to Goldman right now and ask him nicely to surrender to you."

"That's not going to work!" yelled Red "And even if it did, you aren't going to be able to get there that quick. For somebody your age, teleportation can take quite a toll."

"Teleportation?" asked Corbyn. "I don't need any of that namby-pamby fancy modern claptrap! I'll go over to Wyoming on my bicycle! I'll be there in a jiffy!" he said before hanging up.

The Oval Office

“Jezza?” asked a perplexed Red, before realizing that Corbyn had hung up. He shook his head and muttered to himself “That man is barking”.

The Blue House

“You must surrender to the USA!” yelled Prager “The revolution of 1776! Washington! Jefferson! Lincoln! Kennedy! Your country, your REAL country! It has such a rich history! Does it not stir your soul?”

“Never!” yelled Goldman “The yanks are all a bunch of anti-semites led by a Red madman and his Blue imbecile of a pal who both care about animals more than the Jewish people! You, Prager, are a traitor to your people for daring to suggest that I return my nation to those bastards”

“Guys,” said a smiling Skinner stepping through the door to the Circle Office, “Look who it is!”

“Cooee!” said Corbyn, peeking his head through the door.

“Who the heck is this guy?” asked both Prager and Goldman in unison.

“Jeremy Corbyn,” said Corbyn extending his hand to Goldman, “British Prime Minister.”

“Never heard of you!” said Goldman, “But what do you want?”

“I’m here to ask you nicely to surrender to the USA.” said Corbyn.

“I’ll do that when hell freezes over!” yelled Goldman.

“I thought you might say that, so I brought this!” said Corbyn, slamming a jar of jam on the table.

“Jam? This is what you think is going to make me surrender my nation?” asked Goldman.

“It’s not just any old jam,” explained Corbyn, “It’s my special homemade jam! Try some!”.

Goldman looked at Corbyn quizzically for a moment, before opening the jar of jam and sticking his finger into it and licking the jam off of his finger. As Goldman did this, Corbyn and Skinner grinned in anticipation, while Prager just looked on confused.

“Hey!” exclaimed Goldman, “This stuff is pretty good!”

“I know!” said Corbyn, “So here’s the deal: You surrender your country to the USA and get access to my jam whenever you like!”

“It’s a deal!” said Goldman, shaking Corbyn’s hand. “And I’ll also get to tell that fascist son of a bitch Sakurai that he’s never gonna get his stinking claws on the State of Montana!”

“B-but” stammered Prager, tearing up a little, “I wanted to be the one to talk to Goldman and get him to surrender!”

Skinner sighed to himself and patted Prager on the shoulder to comfort him. “There, there,” he said, “You’ll get your chance soon enough”.

The Oval Office

“Oh Blue,” sighed Red to his VP, “I think that we’re going to have to cancel our dreams of ruling the entire North American peninsular. We don’t appear to have a hope in hell of fulfilling them as we’re bound to lose the civil war!”

The phone rang and Red picked it up.

“Yes?” he said, “You did? He agreed! Oh my God, that’s amazing! Wow! Hold on!”. He turned to Blue and said “Goldman surrendered! Jeremy Corbyn agreed to give him access to his jam and now he’s surrendered!”

Blue gave the thumbs up signal and Red returned to the phone.

“I can’t thank you enough, Jezza! If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know!”

Blue distinctly heard the voice of Jeremy Corbyn saying “Don’t worry about it. Although at some point I may ask you to help me to end my own life, it’s really your decision whether you choose to do that or not.” before hanging up.

Red then turned to Blue and started to talk like a James Bond villain: “Now is the time to manifest destiny. Today, we have control of the JSA states. Tomorrow, we take control of Canada.”

“Yes!” agreed Blue, “We will be unstoppable! With the new forces of the JSA territories on our side, led by Robo-Grant, we will march into Canada and hand their arses over to them!”

“Mhmm” said Red, “That sounds good, but I was just thinking that we could get Corbyn to go over there and give the Canadian Prime Minister some jam.”

“Oh yes,” said Blue, “I suppose that could work as well”.

"A! U! H! 2! O!" chanted members of The Order. "A! U! H! 2! O! A! U! H! 2! O! A! U! H! 2! O!"
The chemist poured boiling water into a cauldron then mixed in bars of gold. The gold bars melted into the water, and created the ultimate concoction; Goldwater.

They poured the concoction under a crucifix that looked a bit like this:
https://imgur.com/a/d0fYPKp

The spirit of Barry Goldwater appeared, and The Order members fell to their knees, fearful, but content, for their creator has been brought back.

The Oval Office
President Red started to sign some of the legislation that VP Blue received from Congress. He also started drafting some bills to push through Congress. VP Blue was doing some paperwork as well.

"Looks like we've been successful in giving jam to other leaders. Our destiny to manifest the Earth has begun!"

"Yes, my dearest VP, we are making James K. Polk proud."

EquALLity ran into the Office.
"Mr. President! I have some terrible news." she said as she handed Red a piece of paper that has the following message inscribed:

THE LORD OUR GOD HAS RETURNED TO THIS EARTH

YOUR AGENDA IS NULL

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE

WE WILL RECLAIM OUR COUNTRY

MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR OFFICE

Red read through the piece of paper 3 times.

"What the hell does this mean?" he demanded.

"Look at the back" said EquALLity.

Red turned it to the back. The back was stamped with "AuH2O"

"Get the army ready again. And the UN. We're gonna be fighting a whole new war now against a beast unlike any other." said the President.

The Circle Office
Goldman was experimenting with this new jam by sticking his penis in it when suddenly he received a phone call. He saw it was Red and picked up.

"Speak!"

"Goldman, we need you. The Conservative Beast has been brought back from it's slumber."

Goldman dropped the phone and started remembering horrible things about how Goldwater exposed Goldman for being a dirty Jew in Jewschool.

"We're sending support right away! And we're bringing our allies!" said Goldman.

"Is cybernetic Trump okay with this?" asked Red.

"Please, Trump is more liberal than Bush, this'll be fine." And then he hung up.

President Red assembled his entire cabinet.

Time Machine
"Watch Skinner, I'm going to show you how bad things are in just a year from now!"

APRIL 14TH 2058

The whole state of Wyoming is a dystopia.

Back in 2057 - Buckingham Palace

Jeremy Corbyn was sleeping soundly until he was immediately awoken by the door to his bedroom creaking open.

“Who’s there?” he asked rubbing his eyes.

A pretty lady with red lips, blonde hair, and wearing a nightgown walked in.

“It’s good to be back in Britain.” she said, sitting at the end of his bed.

Corbyn immediately ran to the nearest loo for personal reasons.

When he emerged, he found John McDonnell and the Dennis Skinner arguing with each other.

“I TOLD YOU I COULD STILL GET IT UP!” yelled the Skinner

“Wait,” said Corbyn, “Don’t tell me you both saw that lady as well?”

They both nodded.

Corbyn stood still for a moment, before saying “Whatever. I don’t know what it is but I now have the guts to do what I’ve been putting off for so long.”

He pulled out a gun.

“Goodbye comrades, I love you both.” he said before blowing his brains out.

His comrades immediately followed suit.

The Next Day - The Oval Office

The phone rang and Red picked it up.

“Hey!” came the voice of Goldman, “You’ve heard the news, right?”

“What news?” asked Red.

“Jezza’s gone and done himself in! And he’s taken the recipe for his jam to the grave with him!”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on letting the spirit of Barry Goldwater devour the world just because you can’t have any more jam?”

“Of course not, but our allies certainly will. They’re falling prey to his conservative views, and remember, the jam is the only reason that they’re on your side in the first place.”

“Oh shit! Is there anybody you think might know the recipe for the jam?”

“I’d try acting Prime Minister Diane Abbott if I were you. And good luck! You’re gonna need it!”

“Thanks!” said Red, hanging up, before immediately dialing Diane Abbott’s number.

“Diane!” he said “Do you by any chance have the recipe for Jeremy Corbyn’s special homemade jam?”

Blue walked into the room, carrying an umbrella with a hole in it.

“Red!” he exclaimed “I’ve just had the greatest idea! I’ve cut a hole in my umbrella so that I can check to see if it’s raining or not!”

“Hold on a second Blue,” said Red, “I’ve got Diane Abbott on the line here telling me the recipe for Jeremy Corbyn’s jam.”

Returning to the phone, he said “Yes Diane, how many grams did you say it was?”

A perplexed expression then appeared on his face.

“Eight thousand grams of sugar? Are you sure about that, Diane?”

Blue hung up the phone for him.

“Numbers aren’t her strong point,” he explained. “But I’ve had an idea: I can go and use Prager and Skinner’s Time Machine to travel to the point before Corbyn shot himself and ask him the recipe for his jam.”

“That’s brilliant, Blue!”

Blue got to the Blue House via teleportation

A Few Minutes Later - The Circle Office

Austin Goldman was finishing off the last of his jam. It didn’t taste quite the same as it had before he had stuck his penis into it, and it had a sort of semen flavour to it, but in his opinion, that just made it taste even better. Suddenly, Blue walked through the door.

“Hey,” he said “Weren’t Prager and Skinner here just a moment ago?

“Oh yes,” said Goldman, “You just missed them! They went away in their time machine.”

“Where to?” asked Blue.

Goldman shrugged his shoulders and replied “No idea”.

“Well…” said Blue “... Fuck!”

2058 - Wyoming

“See!” exclaimed Prager, gesturing to the desolate wasteland that surrounded them. “This is the impact of left-wing policies...”

“Um, Prager…” said Skinner

“...whether they appear in the guise of communism, democratic socialism, liberalism, progressivism, feminism or globalism, this is always the result…”

“Um, Prager…”

“...tyranny, destruction, brutality,…”

“Um, Prager…”

“... death and misery…”

“Um, Prager…”

“... Like it or not, this is the inevitably bloody result of left-wing ideas mugged by reality!”

“Um, Prager…”

“You’re really screwing up my vibe here, Skinner! What is it now?”

“Does that guy look like a left-winger to you?” asked Skinner, gesturing to the large portrait of Barry Goldwater which adorned a tower block that Prager had his back turned to.

“Oh…” said Prager, in astonishment. “How did this happen?”

“Most of the world allied with the risen spirit of Barry Goldwater to install him as President of the United States.” explained a homeless man who was rummaging through a rubbish bin. “They did it because Corbyn died and Red wasn’t able to give them the recipe for his jam. The force of all the nations of the world overwhelmed the U.S. Army, and even the laser eyes of Robo-Trump and Robo-Grant were no match for them. As a result, Red, Blue and Goldman were all killed by being thrown out of helicopters and Barry Goldwater was able to bring his reign of terror to America.”

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, a familiar large bald man with a chin beard came waddling towards them, the scars from when he was beaten to a bloody pulp by robots still present.

“Hey guys!” he said “Do you remember me? It’s me! Bob!”

“Oh God,” said Prager quietly, “Not this arsehole again”.

“I’m the Vice President now!” he exclaimed “Isn’t that cool? Again, I know nothing about this new President’s policies but I think that it’s so cool that he’s like a ghost or whatever. And hey, they seem to be doing all right, don’t they? Just look around you, America seems better than it ever has been! Anyways, I’ll see you around! Bye!”

“Thank God he’s not going to pester us any longer,” said Prager, “Anyway, it’s time for us to go back to 2057 and save the American people from this fate.”

Skinner looked up at Prager with nothing but respect. “It’s very selfless of you to do this, Prager.” he said. “They say that conservatives are all a bunch of selfish cunts but that clearly isn’t the case with you because Goldwater’s policies wouldn’t affect us as we’d be on Mars.”

“Thank you.” said Prager. “Wait a second, what did you mean, ‘we’d be on Mars’?”

Skinner blushed. “Nothing, forget it, it’s stupid.” he said.

“I’m sure it isn’t stupid” said Prager, “Please tell me”.

“Well,” said Skinner, “I was sort of hoping that you would adopt me. I mean, it’s just, you’ve been so nice to me and for an American conservative you’ve been surprising lax about my masturbation habits and…”

Prager pulled him into a hug.

“Skinner,” he said, “I would be delighted to adopt you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

Skinner started to hug him tighter. “I’m so happy that I’m going to go and live with you, Mr. Prager! I hate it at the orphanage! All the kids there yell at me for fiddling with my diddle and none of them want to talk about philosophy or politics! They all want to talk about sports and about music I can’t stand! You’re so cool, Mr. Prager, because you live on Mars and you love to talk about philosophy and politics and you’re so nice and…”

“I’m really flattered,” said Prager, “But we need to get to 2057 to save the American people from this mess!”

“Yes, of course!” agreed Skinner.

They were about to get in the time machine when they saw a scrawny figure approaching them. “Dennis!” he called out. They both stopped, unsure which Dennis he meant.

As he got closer, he called out “Dennis Prager!”. And they could both see clearly who it was.

“Dwight Rortugal!” yelled Prager, “What the heck do you want?”

“I’ve came to say that I’m sorry.” he said. “I’ve left the cult of hate I was a part of. I now see how stupid I was to believe those anti-semitic lies. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me for those horrible things I said to you, but if you can’t, then I fully understand.”

Prager immediately embraced Dwight as he broke down in tears.

“It’s okay,” said Prager, “It’s all in the past now. We can’t change our pasts, but we can learn how to live better in the present. I accept your apology.”

Dwight nodded, taking in what Prager had said, and then slowly walked away.

“When we change history,” said Prager, “there’s a chance that he may not abandon his bigotry. He may remain as hateful as he was in 2057. I know that we still have to go back in time, but before we do, I’d just like to pray that he will still renounce his hate.”

Skinner nodded as Prager knelt down and clasped his hands in prayer. As Skinner, an Atheist, watched Prager pray, he did not believe for a second that it would have any impact other than to make Prager feel better. However, he realized that the same applied for when Prager lied to Dwight and told him that he couldn’t change his past. This, Skinner found particularly funny (as in peculiar, not humourous), as although he had yet to hear Prager say this, he imagined that he would be a fan of the saying “Facts don’t care about your feelings”. And yet, thought Skinner, Prager had prioritised Dwight feeling good over telling him the truth. And Skinner was currently prioritising Prager’s feelings over telling him the truth. Skinner thought to himself: I guess sometimes it is better to hear a comforting lie than a hard truth.

As to whether he was correct, you can be the judge of that.

“Okay,” said Prager, “I’m done”.

They both got in the time machine and set the coordinates to Buckingham Palace, 2057.

Mars, 2018

“...and it looks like their bodies must have dissolved when they came in contact with the faeces of this human that they abducted” said an alien named Gallopazorp who was wearing a protective suit to another alien who was named Zogablarpbop who was also wearing one.

“I guess that that’s the last we’ve heard from the Greenblood Gang,” said Zogablarpbop, “It looks like their days of going to other planets and abducting other species to do weird things to their anuses are over, right Gallopazorp?”

“Yes,” came her response, “My only question is whose faeces is this and how did the human get away?”

“Our records show that an earthling named Dennis Prager lives on this planet,” said Gallopazorp.

“From Prager University?”

“No, a different Dennis Prager, one who is also very conservative” responded Gallopazorp. Then she pulled out a weird pinecone-shaped object and pointed it at an area to reveal that there had been a massive glass dome there.

“That is his residence. He’s kept that covered with a cloaking device to keep his presence on this planet hidden from other humans. Of course, it’s no match for our technology.”

“It doesn’t look like he’s still there.”

“Well let’s go take a look now, shall we?”

As they entered the glass dome, they came face to face with a large portrait of Ronald Reagan which was signed with Prager’s name on it. He had painted it himself. As they took a look around the dome, they saw no sign of its occupant.

“It’s most likely that he returned to Earth,” said Gallopazorp. “He had made two brief returns to Earth in the past. Once in 2012 to campaign for Mitt Romney and again in 2016 to campaign for Evan McMullin.”

“Hmm,” said Zogablarpbop, “It sounds a bit strange to me. Why would he return to Earth at this point? The fact that he supported McMullin shows that he can’t be too fond of Trump. As well as that, it just seems very suspicious that he went as soon as the Greenblood gang arrived here.”

“Yes,” said Gallopazorp, “Something strange is clearly going on here. I just can’t put my tentacle on it.”

“You know, I wonder if that faeces really is Prager’s. I’ve just got this funny feeling that it might belong to somebody else.”

“That’s a good point. Let’s go and check for sure.”

They entered the spaceship and Gallopazorp pulled out her pinecone shaped object and made a hole in it with her tentacles. Then, she pushed it over the poo until it sealed itself up and then shook the object up and down violently until some weird alien gibberish characters appeared on it.

“Huh,” said Gallopazorp, “It says that this faeces belongs to a child named Dennis Skinner who hails from the earthling nation of the UK. Yes, this is very suspicious. We must organize a search patrol to search the entire galaxy for these earthlings. It’s unlikely, but they could be plotting against our species.”

Bliuq V2, homeworld of the Fallopidorians (the species of Gallopazorp and Zogablarpbop), 2057

Gallopazorp was sitting in her green slimy office working through some green slimy paperwork when suddenly Zogablarpbop ran through the green slimy door, panting, and sweating green slimy sweat.

“Zogablarpbop, what on Bliuq V2 is the matter? You look like you have seen a ghost!”

“I may as well have. You remember years ago when we opened up that investigation into the whereabouts of Dennis Prager and Dennis Skinner which we had to declare inconclusive?”

“Yes?”

“Well we’ve found them! They’re on earth, exactly the same age as they were when we opened the investigation! They must have time traveled there!”

“Let’s get down there at once!”

Buckingham Palace, Earth

“Mr. Corbyn,” pleaded Prager, “Will you please give us the recipe for your jam?”

“What in Heaven’s name are you doing here?! How did you get here? Is that a time machine?” asked Corbyn.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Prager, “We need the recipe for your jam!”

Suddenly, Gallopazorp and Zogablarpbop teleported into the room.

“Dennis Skinner and Dennis Prager,” said Zogablarpbop, “We are from the Fallopidorian Planetary Police. You’re wanted for questioning.”

“Eh?” said Prager. “Are you the aliens Skinner was telling me about? What language is that?”

“Whoops, forgot to switch this thing on,” said Zogablarpbop, pressing a green slimy button on a rectangular object which immediately translated what she said from the Fallopidorian language into English. She then repeated what she said and it was translated.

“Can’t it wait?” asked Prager, “We’re in the middle of someth…”

Gallopazorp’s Office, Bliuq V2

“...ing.” he finished, before realizing that he was not in Buckingham Palace but in a green slimy room that stank of dog piss. He turned to Skinner who was clutching at his leg and looking terrified, too afraid even to fiddle with his diddle.

“It’s okay,” said Prager to Skinner, “They won’t harm us. I’m sure they just want to question us to clear some things up.” Exactly what they wanted to clear up though, he wasn’t sure.

“Mr. Prager,” said Gallopazorp, “How did you obtain that Fallopidorian invention?” she asked, pointing to the time machine.

“Skinner and I found it buried in the ground on Mars.”

“Mhmm. And how were you both able to breathe on Mars?”

“I created a device which allows for humans to tolerate Mars’ atmosphere.”

“Impressive… for an earthling. Anyway, the FPP is now going to take custody of your time machine as it is of our planet and you earthlings have no business messing with our technology. We are going to send both back to 2018. You, Prager, back to Mars, and you, Skinner, back to the orphanage where you came from.”

“But I don’t want to go back there! I want to stay with Prager!” protested Skinner.

“Okay, fine, whatever, you get to stay with him. I don’t really have any stakes in this.” said Gallopazorp, “We’ll send you both back to Mars in 2018. Is that understood?”

“But if we’re sent back then, we won’t be able to get the recipe for Corbyn’s jam and prevent the spirit of Barry Goldwater from devouring the earth!” protested Prager.

“Whatever happens to Earth is none of our concern.” said Gallopazorp, “Zogablarpbop, take them away!

Zogablarpbop ensnared them both in her tentacles and dragged them to the time machine, dropping them off inside Prager’s dome on Mars and leaving.

Prager’s dome, Mars, 2018

“Well,” said Prager, “The only thing we can do now is wait until 2057 comes around and then try and give the recipe for Corbyn’s jam to the heads of government. I doubt I have that many years left in me, but you, Skinner, will surely make it.”

“No!” exclaimed Skinner, “We can’t wait that long! There must be some other way.”

“Well,” said Prager, “Unless we can think of one, then that’s our only option.”

The Oval Office, 2057

Blue had explained the situation to Red. Red looked at him solemnly, before saying:

“Well, we’re fucked, aren’t we? Shall we commit suicide or wait for right-wing death squads to capture and kill us?”

Suddenly, Robo-Grant burst through the door:

“Guys!” he yelled, “I have found out who hacked into Robo-Trump.”

“That’s neat,” said Red, “but it won’t help us now. We’ve got much bigger stuff on our plate and no hope of eating any of it.”

“No!” yelled Robo-Grant “When I tell you, it will unlock the door to defeating the spirit of Barry Goldwater and saving the planet! You see, the person who hacked into Robo-Trump is in fact… ack!”

Robo-Grant collapsed to the ground, sparks flying from his head. “She’s gotten to me!” he yelled “She’s deleting all my memory and files! I’m dying!”

Red and Blue both rushed towards him. “There’s nothing you can do!” he yelled, “Abandon hope!”

Indeed, they both looked hopeless, and as he lay on the floor panting, he said “I know that I am not supposed to feel anything, but I feel frightened. Can a robot go to Heaven?”

“Of course,” said Blue, despite not believing that a Heaven exists, let alone that a robot could go there.

“Water.” said Robo-Grant, before becoming immediately become motionless, save for his eyes which contorted themselves back into his head.

“There is no hope of rebooting him,” said Red, “He’s gone.”

Blue closed Robo-Grant’s eyelids for him as a sign of respect. Just then, the phone rang.

When Red picked it up, he heard the voice of Austin Goldman, and immediately put the phone on speakerphone:

“The Jewnited States are re-seceding from the union.” said Goldman monotonously.

“But Goldman, what about Goldwater?” protested Red

“We’ll be able to defeat both his armies and yours. We won’t need the help of Japan either. I had a visit from a beautiful lady last night and she has given me all the courage I need to fulfil my destiny.” he said before hanging up.

Blue’s eyes lit up. “Alice!” he spluttered out immediately, “She’s the one who’s behind all this!”

“What?” asked Red.

“Alice Carrington! She’s been playing all of us off against each other this whole time!”

“Blue, I know you believe that you’ve seen her, and personally I can’t blame you because I thought that I did too at some point and it influenced my policy somewhat…”

“What?!?”

“Yes, you know how I was so intent on expanding the United States? I had genuinely thought that she had appeared to me, encouraging me to do that. Of course, now I realize that that’s silly because I had ate some bad apples that night and they really disagreed with me, and they probably made me hallucinate.”

“Don’t you get it, Red? She’s been trying to get world leaders and other people to think that the actions she wants them to take are their destiny, when really she is playing us off against each other for her own amusement! She was behind the hacking of Robo-Trump and it was her who killed Robo-Grant when he tried to expose her!”

“Blue, you believe some quite crazy conspiracy theories, but I think that this is the craziest yet. Anyway, I’m tired and I’m going to bed. I think that you should get some sleep too. Tomorrow, we’ll begin writing our wills.”

That night

Blue was having a lot of trouble sleeping. He was uncertain that he was right about Alice Carrington being behind all of the unfortunate events which had vexed the globe, and knew that even if he was, there was nothing he could do about it. He was just about to drop off to sleep, when he heard the sound of somebody playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata on a piano. He didn’t even know that the White House had a piano. He strode through the dark to find the room where it was coming from and tell whoever was playing it to shut up so that he could get some sleep. However, when he found the room where the piano was, and saw who was playing it, he wished that he had just stayed in bad.

Sitting at the piano, smiling gleefully, was Alice Carrington. She stopped playing the piano, before looking at Blue and giggling.

“Ah, there you are, Blue. Of course, you wouldn’t be ‘there’ at all if it wasn’t for me, because you wouldn’t be the Vice President. Yes, I knew I had made the right choice when I came to you. Your hilarious antics have amused me greatly.”

“Why are you tormenting humanity in this way?” asked Blue.

“Because humanity is vile,” said Alice. “Humans have a natural instinct to step over others to fulfil their own ambitions. My experience shows that entirely. I was abused by both of my parents, shut out by society, and forced to satisfy a mentally and morally corrupt celery-obsessed man’s needs in order to earn a living. Now, I am going to torture humanity in the same way that they tortured me. When Barry Goldwater unleashes his reign of terror upon the earth, you will all suffer in the same way that I suffered!”

“But most of us have had nothing to do with what happened to you!”

“Lies! All of humanity is vile, and has contributed in some way to the suffering of their fellow beings. I have the ability to appeal to their most primitive instincts and I will use that against them.”

“It’s not working on me at the moment. I’m not going to masturbate and I sure as hell am not going to follow your commands!”

“No! Because you have figured out my evil plan, and can see through me. But nobody else will! They think that you are crazy!”

She cackled loudly.

“We’ll be seeing each other very often from now on, Blue. Yes…” she began playing the piano, “We’ll… meet again. Don’t know where… Don’t know when… but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day!” she sang.

Blue tried to run back to his room, but he could not escape her voice.

“Keep smiling through just like you always do! ‘Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away!” she continued to sing.

Blue ran into a wall, and then fell to the ground.

“Look at the pretty colours and the little gnome in the corner!” he said deliriously before fainting.

A secret location

The spirit of Alice Carrington apparated into the room and all the members of the Order fell to their knees, believing that it was their destiny to serve her.

“Members of the Order!” she bellowed, “There may have beens a slight hiccup in our plans. One of the others is aware of them. No matter. We know who to summon. As I’ve always said, two conservative beasts are better than one.”

The members of the Order began dancing and chanting:

“Pt! Re! W! Au! Ta!...” they chanted, listing off the initials of strong elements that have isotopes with stable nuclides (NOTE: I have a terrible understanding of science and I’m sorry if that shows)

The spirit of Theresa May appeared in the room, and the members of the Order fell to their knees once again.

“Armageddon means Armageddon.”

Gallopazorp's Office, 2057

Zogablarpbop emerged from the time machine.

"Do you think they bought it?" she asked.

"I doubt it," said Gallopazorp, "It wouldn't take a genius to recognise that an invention which isn't green and slimy is unlikely to have been invented by our species. Then again, earthlings are anything but geniuses. Regardless, it doesn't matter now. They're out of the way."

Then, Gallopazorp strode over to the time machine before getting into it and then turning to Zogablarpbop.

"I'll be back shortly." she said.

The Oval Office, 2057

Things were looking far more optimistic for Blue and Red. The new British Prime Minister, a cybernetic Clement Attlee, had reaffirmed Britain's commitment to the alliance against Goldwater and Goldman. He had also been working on finding out the secret recipe to Corbyn's jam. A general election was happening in Britain. However, it wouldn't matter who won it as the Leader of the Opposition, a cybernetic Harold Macmillan, was also dedicated to reaffirming Britain's commitment to the alliance. As such, Red had ceased his talk about writing wills and suicide notes, Blue had dismissed his experience of Alice Carrington as a mere bad dream, and the feeling in the White House was one of overall calm.

Red was in the middle of drawing some propaganda posters to get the American people riled up. Blue was watching him and giving him suggestions.

"You need to draw Goldwater with glowing red eyes and fangs dripping with blood! And have him urinating on the Constitution!" he said.

The phone rang.

"Hello" said Red, picking it up.

"Hello, Mister President." came the voice, "I am Japanese Prime Minister Makoto Sakurai. I am calling to offer my assistance to the United States in the conflict against the JSA."

"Who is it?" asked Blue.

"It's Makoto Sakurai" said Red.

"Tell him he's a fascist pig!" yelled Blue.

"You're a fascist pig!" yelled Red into the phone.

"Yes, I thought you might say that" responded Sakurai. "I understand that you are probably trying to appease that moronic Vice President of yours. Nevertheless, the offer still stands should you choose to accept it. And believe me, you will end up accepting it" he concluded before hanging up.

Red looked very perturbed. "I don't know whether it was such a good idea to have said that. If we'd got Japan on our side, we could have overwhelmed the JSA in a matter of days" he explained.

"We will overwhelm them in a matter of days!" exclaimed Blue. "And I know exactly how. We can incite the Jewmericans to overthrow their government and reunite with us. Now, you put me in charge of handling domestic affairs and this is exactly what I'm going to do. I am intending to have our government prosecute Richard Spencer and his lackeys for humanitarian injustices. This is something we've both wanted to do for a long time but put off due to it interfering with the war. Now I believe that this could actually help us in the war. When the Jewmericans, many of whom wanted to secede due to the antisemitic pogroms that Spencer incited against them, see that we are making strong statements against antisemitism contrary to Goldman's claims that the American government are all antisemites this will encourage them to reunify with us."

Red gave the thumbs up signal and then Blue went off to go and draft this legislation. As he was walking down the corridor, he passed the room with the piano in it. A chill ran down his spine.

"It's okay" said Blue to himself, "It never happened!"

But then he heard the sound of the piano being played and of a very familiar voice singing.

"Three lions on a shirt! Jules Rimet still gleaming! Fifty years of hurt never stopped me dreaming!"

It was unmistakably Alice.

"You're not real!" yelled Blue, running through the corridor, "YOU'RE NOT REAL!!" he yelled before running into a wall and falling flat into the floor.

"And that..." muttered Blue deliriously on the floor, "...is how you wire a three-pin plug. And remember: the neutral wire is blue" he said before falling unconscious.

Prager's dome on Mars, 2018

"Three lions on a shirt! Jules Rimet still gleaming! Thirty years of hurt never stopped me dreaming!" sang Skinner gleefully.

It was 11th July. The day of the World Cup match between England and Croatia. Skinner had never been particularly interested in sports before, but had immediately became the biggest football fan on Mars the moment his country seemed to be doing well. He sat on the floor glued to Prager's TV set fixated on the match. It was drawing to a close and England had already scored a goal. Skinner was on the verge of praying for them to score another one and had to keep reminding himself that he was an Atheist.

At that very moment, the English captain, Harry Kane, scored a second goal against Croatia. The crowd in the stadium where the game was taking place erupted into a fit of cheers and Skinner joined in with them. "It's coming home!" he exclaimed.

Prager was sitting on his couch, in a much better mood than he had been a couple of days ago when he found out that the spaceship he built had disappeared. He reckoned some aliens had gone and stole it. The very thought of it sent him into a fit of rage, however, he tried to keep calm because he did not want Skinner to see him so angry as it wasn't his fault that the spaceship was gone.

"The match is over!" cheered Skinner. "We've beaten Croatia 2-0! We're through to the finals! It's coming home! We've got to beat France next!"

"Yes" said Prager grinning, "And on that note, it's time for you to go to bed. You go up and brush your teeth and then I'll come to read to you from The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich."

Skinner, who had been greatly enjoying learning about the history of the Nazis, accompanied by Prager's dramatic narration, eagerly ran upstairs to get ready.

Germany, 1940

A large crowd gathered around the podium. Red, white and black banners with Swastikas on them hung behind it. Suddenly, the man of the hour rose to stand at the podium. A huge cheer went up for him. The man who had taken control of Germany using only the strength of his own tongue: Adolf Hitler. He stood at the podium for a good 30 seconds or so before saying:

"German People! Our glorious fatherland is under threat! It has been plagued by the most vile parasites for centuries now! These viles creatures have been sucking the life-blood out of our nation! They thrive upon the suffering of others, and upon death above all. These are the scum who I have sworn to take the fight against since the beginning of my political career! I think you all know who I am talking about."

Cries and yells came from the crowd who had been riled up by this charismatic radical. He had been preaching the same message in every speech he had made, and so they all knew which group of people he was talking about. Each one of them was yelling the same thing:

"The antisemites!"

Hitler nodded his head before yelling even louder: "THE ANTISEMITIC BASTARDS!". The crowd roared with approval.

"The antisemites, and their hidden handlers the Fascists, have been plotting the destruction of our democracy! I have sworn to take the fight up against antisemitism and Fascism until they are completely stamped out!"

Hitler went on with his speech, continually launching attacks against antisemitism and Mussolini's Italy. He also gave his thanks to President Roosevelt to bringing the United States into alliance with Germany, Britain and the USSR against the fascist nations of Italy, Spain and Japan. Perhaps the most controversial part of his speech was when he declared that he was unapologetic about passing laws decriminalising homosexuality in Germany, declaring that everybody, regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation, is fundamentally equal. Even this statement resulted in approval from the ecstatic crowd. He concluded his speech exclaiming: "German People! In the name of democracy, let us beat down the lies of the fascists and the antisemites! Let us unite as comrades against their hate! They may have armies, but we have armies too, and those in our armies have one thing that theirs do not: a sense of honour. We will win in the end!"

He left the podium and went to see his colleagues: Otto Wels, the Minister of the Interior, and Albert Einstein, the Minister of War. Gallopazorp had been watching the spectacle very intently and had now seen enough to understand the truth about the time machine. Immediately, she got back in the time machine in order to report her findings to Zogablarpbop.

Gallopazorp's Office, 2057

"This is not an ordinary time machine." stated Gallopazorp as she exited the machine.

"How so?" asked Zogablarpbop.

"Zogablarpbop, have you heard of the multiverse theory?" asked Gallopazorp.

"This is the pseudo-scientific earthling belief that there is an infinite number of universes with an infinite number of possibilities, if I am not mistaken." responded Zogablarpbop.

"You aren't," said Gallopazorp "and unless I have suffered a profound hallucination, then the theory is more than earthling pseudoscience. You see, I have just visited in that time machine a universe where Hitler was an anti-fascist. And come and see this..."

She brought Zogablarpbop towards the time machine and gesticulated towards a small white button on it before pressing it. Upon doing so, it immediately projected a large blue hologram, with the words "Universes traveled to" at the top in English, and giving a list of universes with random characters ascribed to them.

"As you can see," said Zogablarpbop, "The time machine is clearly of human origin. And remember Prager and Skinner? They don't hail from this universe. The universe that they hail from is one in which the earthling nation of England loses the World Cup semi-finals to Croatia."

"And they travelled to this universe before the advent of the world cup?"

"That is correct."

"Then," said Zogablarpbop, "my suggestion is that we destroy the time machine. If we give credibility to the earthlings by demonstrating that their technology and theories may be ahead of ours, this could break our planet psychologically."

"Agreed." said Gallopazorp.

"Oh, and do we know what happened to the Prager and Skinner of our universe?" asked Zogablarpbop.

"Yes," said Gallopazorp, "They are dead. They both went travelling to distant parts of the galaxy in Prager's spaceship before the oxygen supply failed."

Prager's dome on Mars, 2018, Universe #AU3NR84NF94RNT8 (Or Universe "It came home")

"... And I think we'll leave it there for now." said Prager, putting down the book. "It's been very interesting reading that." he said to Skinner, "I've learned a lot. It's a pity Shirer said those things about gays. I mean calling them perverts! It's an insult to the thousands of homosexuals who were killed in the holocaust!"

"Mhmm," said Skinner, "But he was a man of his time."

"Yeah, I suppose he was." said Prager, "Anyway, good night."

"Dad?" asked Skinner.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we could build a time machine?"

"Well," said Prager, "I've invented a lot of stuff, but a time machine... gee, I don't know. We're gonna need a flux capacitor, aren't we?"

"What's a flux capacitor?" asked Skinner.

"I don't know," said Prager, "I've just heard from a lot of movies that it's a thing which goes in time machines."

Then, remembering an episode of Family Guy he once saw, Prager turned to Skinner and asked "Hey, what do you say about the time machine actually being a machine that teleports you to a parallel universe?"

"Woah," said Skinner, "how would that work? We've never seen it do anything like that."

"What if it is not in fact a time machine, rather a device that teleported people to parallel universes, based on their original knowledge and world?" asked Prager.

"Does this mean that a lot of the things that happened to us is actually just something that happened in another universe?" asked Skinner.

"You can say that," said Prager, "it allows for more possibilities. I also want it to stop any possible paradoxes."

"I thought that we could resolve paradoxes in the same way that they are resolved in Back to the Future." said Skinner "That is by not addressing them."

"Well, Back to the Future's disregard for the problems annoyed me too." said Prager.

"But doesn't a belief in a multiverse go against your Jewish faith?" asked Skinner.

"Yes actually," said Prager, "I suppose it does. And I don't think that there is any way we could build a multiverse machine anyway. I've got an idea! Let's build a spaceship! That way, we can fly over to Bliuq V2, nab the time machine from those aliens, and then go to 2057!"

"That sounds like a plan to me!" said Skinner.

German Social Democratic Party Headquarters, 1940, Universe #BGFR8384NFR7NR84N (Or Universe "Good Hitler")

Hitler was sitting in his office writing his next speech, when all of a sudden Einstein rushed through the door wild-eyed and carrying a bunch of papers.

"Albert!" exclaimed Hitler, "What on earth's the matter with you?"

"I think I may be on the verge of a breakthrough in how we could win this war against Mussolini!" declared Einstein.

"I'm all ears." said Hitler.

"You know how you tell us to study Frederick the Great and the tactics he used which succeeded. Well, this has put an even bigger thought in my head! I believe that there may be a multitude of universes outside of our own, with many different possibilities and that by creating a machine which can transport us from one universe to another, we can see which tactics succeed in defeating Mussolini and which tactics fail. I call this the Many-universe hypothesis!"

Hitler looked at Einstein for a solid three seconds before asking him, "Have you been drinking, Al?".

"No. I understand that this sounds crazy, but I belief I can create a machine that can transport humans from one universe to another. If you sign this paperwork, that will allow for this project to go ahead. Within the writing is a clause that if the project does not succeed within a week, it is cancelled."

"Okay, Al, you can have your fun. Where do I sign?"

"Right there." said Einstein pointing to a blank space at the end of the sheet upon which Hitler promptly signed. Einstein immediately grabbed the paper and rushed out of the room.

Hitler chuckled to himself. Einstein often came up with some crazy ideas, like the time he claimed that Pluto might not actually be a planet. Then again, if he was right about this "Many-universe hypothesis", a whole number of things could be true of those other universes. There could be a universe where Hitler came up with the idea of the toothbrush moustache before Chaplin. He liked that idea. There could also be a universe where Mussolini didn't exist. He liked that idea as well. There could however, and he shuddered to think of this, be a universe where he was allied with Mussolini. This idea greatly unnerved him. There could be universes where he was responsible for some of the most vile atrocities. He shook his head. This was just nonsense. Einstein was probably going to get nowhere with this idea of his. Hitler returned to writing his speech, and put the idea of other universes out of his mind.

Prager's dome on Mars, 2018, Universe "It came home"

Prager shot upright in his bed drenched in sweat. He sat there hyperventilating for a long while before realising that the dream he had had was not real. He could still picture it, however, as clear as the day. The lifeless corpses of himself and Skinner encased in his old spaceship. Lost in the vast void of space. Likely to never be found. The very thought of the image still made him tremble.

He walked down the hall of his dome in his pyjamas in order to go and get himself a glass of water. On the way, he passed the portrait of Ronald Reagan that he painted. He took two steps backwards and stared at it for a while. In his mind flashed images of the United States in 2058, as it had been trampled over by Barry Goldwater.

"Government is the problem, huh?" he asked the painting of Reagan, rhetorically. "Yeah," he chortled, "My ass it is!". He punched a large hole in the painting.

He regretted it the moment he did it. Suddenly, he heard some noises coming from Skinner's room. He had woken him up. The door opened, and Skinner emerged from it. Prager quickly stood himself in front of the painting in an attempt to hide the large hole in Ronnie's face.

"Dad?" asked Skinner, "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, son. Go back to sleep."

"Yes, I think I ought to. We've got a big day tomorrow, haven't we?"

Prager looked confused for a minute, before realising what Skinner meant. "Oh, you mean because of the spaceship. Uh... yeah, I think we perhaps ought not to do that. It's unlikely we're going to be able to get the time machine off of those aliens anyway. I think we should try our hand at creating a multiverse machine."

"But I thought you said..."

"Please trust me on this. I've got a really good feeling about the multiverse theory."

"Okay, good night."

"Good night. Sleep tight. I love you."

Skinner went back into his room and Prager turned back around to face the hole in his painting. He knew full well that he could paint another one. However, he had soured on the idea of doing so. Reagan, as an icon, did not mean the same things to him as he used to. He recalled the words he had yelled at Goldman, that he was "a Jew, an American and a conservative in that order". And, in truth, he could not now honestly declare himself to be any of those things. It wasn't because he wasn't any of those things. It was because he did not know what he was.

The Oval Office, 2057, Universe "It came home"

President Red had finished the propaganda poster he was working on. On it, Goldwater was depicted like a hideous gremlin. His left arm was strangling the Statue of Liberty. His right arm was holding a dagger which was piercing the Constitution. His feet were digging their large toenails into the earth, which was bleeding.

"Blue's gonna love this!" said Red to himself. "Where is he anyway?"

He walked out of the Oval Office and called out to him "Blue! I've got something to show you!". No response.

He kept strolling through the many hallways calling out "Blue! Blue! Where are you?". Then, Red put his hand over his mouth as he finally found Blue. "Oh my fucking God!"

Blue was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. A gunshot had been fired into his head. He was very clearly deceased.

Standing above him was a scrawny, heavily tattooed man who was holding a gun. Upon seeing Red, he immediately dropped it to the floor.

"My name is Dwight Rortugal. It is I who slayed your Vice President and I did so with great pride!"

Red's face was a mixture of confusion, horror and anger. "W-why did you do this?" he stammered.

"For the glory of the Jewnited States! I have slaughtered another anti-semitic pig who stands in its way. Our march is onward. You cannot defeat us. We are invincible. Arrest me. Kill me. I do not care! You will not prevent the Jewish revolution!"

Prime Minister's Official Residence, Japan, 2057, Universe "It came home"

"Has the task been completed?" asked Makoto Sakurai to his secretary.

"It has. We selected a young neo-Nazi by the name of Dwight Rortugal to do the job. He was only to happy to do it as he despises the Vice President and is excited by the prospect of bringing America into the war with what he terms 'The Jewish Peril'".

"Excellent. How and where did he able to accomplish this feat?"

"He shot the Vice President in the head in the White House."

"The White House! Amazing! How was he able to get through the White House security?"

"We hacked into it! Can you believe the Americans actually thought artificial intelligence was better than flesh and blood when it comes to protecting their own leader?"

"Is it such a good idea to keep hacking into things? What if somebody traces it back to us? Hacking the cybernetic Trump was risky enough."

"They won't trace it back to us. We've covered our tracks well enough. This is a cause for celebration isn't it? We have removed the Vice President's anti-Japan influence and pinned the blame on the JSA."

"Well, we shouldn't celebrate too early. We need to make sure that Red's going to get on our side. I'll go and telephone him right now." Sakurai changed his voice to a very solemn one: "I am so sorry to hear about your loss, Mr. President." Turning to his secretary he asked "Did that sound believable?"

"Yes, he'll buy it."

"Excellent, let's go kick some kosher arses."

Everyone dies after I press the destroy all the universes and time button.

THE END!