“There is a disturbance in the Beltway,” Karl Rove uttered ominously.
“What is it, Rover?” Bush asked as he practiced on a putting green in the Oval Office.
Karl Rove closed his eyes and tried to focus. “I can not tell yet, but it does not bode well.”
“I once thought I had a premonition,” Bush said as he prepared for a putt, “but it was just bad shellfish.” The golf ball rolled right by the hole’s edge. “Constarnit!”

The Democrat debate for the presidential nomination raged on as usual.
“I hate Bush!”
“I hate Bush more!”
“I wish I had some policy ideas… but I’m too busy hating Bush!”
“We hate Bush too!” yelled the sympathetic crowd.
“Wesley Clark is not really a Democrat!”
“I am too! You’re a doody head!”
“You take that back!”
Suddenly a vortex emerged at the center of the stage. From it emerged a giant figure in black armor with glowing red eyes. “I am O’Yama, eater of souls and registered Democrat!” he screamed, lighting bursting about him and the entire auditorium shaking at the sound of his voice. “I will plunge the world into eternal darkness, raining blood upon the land, all funded by taxing the top one percent who are not paying their fair share!”
The audience applauded.
“I’m sorry,” said the moderator, “but you can’t just materialize in the debate like this.”
“Your soul is mine!” O’Yama yelled, and a beam emerged from his fingertips. Soon the moderator was reduced to nothing but a skeleton.
“Well, I welcome any Democrat to the debate,” Sen. Joe Liberman said, “but I’m not sure that eternal darkness is the direction we want to take the country in.”
“Quiet, moderate fool!” O’Yama screeched, launching a fireball at Liberman. It exploded the Senator right off the stage. “I will wreak death, vengeance, and a progressive agenda upon the world, and no one can stop me! And I have been a Democrat since before time began… unlike a certain General in our midst.”
“Hey! That’s a cheap shot!” Wesley Clark protested.
“Quiet, or suffer for all eternity!” O’Yama threatened, “Only I can defeat George Bush! And when I do, his soul will be mine!”
There was a standing ovation in response as O’Yama’s evil laughter echoed through the chamber.

“Bush! Bush!” White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan yelled as he ran into the Oval Office. “There’s a new Democrat who’s entered the race for the presidency!”
“Who is it now?” Bush asked with annoyance.
“An evil demon that vows to destroy the world and eat your soul!”
Bush jumped out of his chair in surprise. “But Hillary promised she wouldn’t run for the presidency!”
“He speaks of O’Yama, Eater of Souls,” Zatoichi, Bush’s blind samurai Secret Service agent, uttered, “An ancient evil.”
“That sounds bad,” Bush declared.
Scott turned on the T.V. to a news station. “O’Yama, having just entered the race, is already polling as the front-runner,’ said the anchorman. ‘Apparently Democrats are warming up to him because of his left-leaning politics and how his vow to slaughter all humanity doesn’t leave him as vulnerable to attacks about being weak on national security.”
The screen then showed O’Yama, eyes glowing red with evil, giving a speech before a crowd of reporters. “When I am president, the oceans will boil, the cities will be destroyed in fire, and there will be universal health care!”
“What!” Bush exclaimed as he watched the television, “A universal health care plan could be harmful!”
“Why have you waited until now to enter the race?” a reporter asked O’Yama.
“Long ago, I was imprisoned within the void,” O’Yama explained, “but the collective hatred for Bush has given me strength to break those seal and once again spread my evil and leftist politics across the world. In a way, you can say the Democratic faithfuls drafted me.”
The O’Yama supporters in attendance cheered while the ancient demon laughed a spine-chilling laugh as the clouds above darkened and lightning struck about him.
The T.V. then showed a reporter interviewing an O’Yama supporter. “Does his being an evil demon concern you?”
“At least he’s better than Bush,” the young man answered, “Who’s like Hitler because of… stuff and uh… Bush lies like when… he said… things… Go O’Yama!”
“Sounds like the Democrat base of barely coherent idiots is behind him,” Karl Rove said as he emerged from the shadows.
“So do you think he’ll have a chance of beating Howard Dean in New Hampshire?” Bush asked.
“We cannot wait to find out!” Ichi exclaimed, “You must slay him now!”
“Hey, I’m not slaying anyone,” Bush stated, “Best not to attack any of the Democrats until the primary is over. Isn’t that right, Rover?”
“The destruction of the world could go against our partisan goals,” Karl Rove said, “Perhaps this problem should be handled now.”
“Fine,” Bush said, “I’ll get my .45 and then it’s one dead ancient demon.”
“No man made weapon can defeat O’Yama,” Ichi said, “You must find a hidden cave in the mountains of Japan and obtain the enchanted katana known as Crat-Cutter. Only with that can you send O’Yama back to the void.”
“Okay, Scott, go fetch me that sword,” Bush ordered.
“It can only be wielded by the leader of the free-world,” Ichi said, “You must go yourself, Bush-san.”
“Fine,” Bush moaned, “Every time I’m getting ready to settle in for a restful weekend, I have to go on some mystic quest to Japan.”

“Why do I have to carry everything,” Scott asked as he trekked in the snow behind Bush.
“Because you’re the sherpa,” Bush answered, poking Scott in the belly with his walking stick.
“Stop doing that!” Scott yelled, “And who is answering press questions while I’m gone?”
“I told Rumsfeld to cover for you.”

“Rarr!” Rumsfeld yelled as he strangled a reporter.

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision?” Scott asked.
Bush rolled his eyes. “When was the last time I made a wise decision?” He surveyed the landscape. “Now where is this hidden cave?”
“Well… it’s hidden,” Scott answered, “Zatoichi said destiny would lead us to it.”
“But how long is that going to take?” Bush complained, “What if a yeti or a wampa gets us first? And do you see any steakhouses nearby, because I’m hungry.”
“I’m pretty sure we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Scott answered.
Bush looked around. “Aieeee! Snow monkey!” he exclaimed, and then leapt to the ground.
“That’s just a rock,” Scott said, and then noticed Bush was gone. “Where are…” he started to say, but then fell down a hole. Once he got off the ground, he saw Bush sitting there looking quite annoyed.
“Just our luck to stumble into some sort of… hidden cave,” Bush grumbled, “Now we’ll never find that steakhouse we were questing for.”
“We’re looking for the Crat-Cutter, remember?” Scott said.
Bush slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah; ancient, magical sword.” He then noticed an old Asian man with a long white beard standing nearby. “Who are you?”
“I am the keeper of the sword you seek,” the old man responded.
“Cool,” Bush said and then held out his hands. “Gimme gimme gimme!”
“Before you can take the sword,” the old man stated, “You must first pass a series of tests that will try your strength, your will, and your wit.”
Bush considered this. “Ben Franklin says I get the sword now,” Bush said, holding out a one hundred dollar bill.
The old man snatched the bill in a blink of an eye. “You have passed the tests,” he pronounced, and then bowed as he handed the ancient sword to Bush.
“Kickass!” Bush exclaimed as he accepted the sword.
“Well, that could have gone a lot worse,” Scott declared as he began to look for an exit to the cave.
“Yeppers,” Bush answered as he put the sword in his belt. “Here’s your wallet back, by the way.”

“Another debate between the Democrats seeking the presidential nomination is scheduled for a week from now,” the anchorman said, “Pundits are expecting attacks against O’Yama since he is now the front-runner in the polls. O’Yama is expected to respond by destroying the city with giant hail stones.”
“Should be an exciting debate,” said the anchorwoman, “and now we go live to Iraq to hear from Iraqis exactly how they are affected by the accusations against Kobe Bryant…”
TO BE CONTINUED…