The story so far:
Blake both admired and respected the man before them, he stepped off his light cycle, looked at the near infinitely insane traffic patterns, and wondered if the people inside them were real, or just blank slates to fill the seats. Barack noticed Blake's eyes wander around the scene and smiled with a questionable look in his eyes.
"They're real alright, most of them Republican Congressmen or women that heavily criticized me during the eight years I was in office, and maybe one or two Democrats to even things out. but they'll only be truly free if you end their lives. Can you live with that burden Sasha?" He explained in a affable tone of voice.
Skylar finally got off the recliner, stabbed Gandalf, the Baelrog, every stupid person in the mob, Stephen baldwin, the giant shark, and every person in the retirement home corporation, and then ran straight at the former President. "Well, I don't plan on killing anyone today, but hey, collateral damage is what makes this all the more fun right?" He yelled as the others gradually came to their senses.
Blake shook his head as his green light cycle changed to a floating set of armor that grew into him. "Well, there's not much we can do, and I don't think this guy's going to go down without a huge fight."
Daniel nodded as he walked towards the President, without any actual idea of what he wanted to say. His hand rubbed the side of his scruffy cheek as he closed his eyes hard. He opened them again and stared right into hte former Presidents eyes.
"Yes?" Barack asked him simply.
"Sir, I want you to know that our friend, Morgan wants us to gather up members of his group. I'm not that partial to fighting, and most of us have only been here for a few months at most. The Deom and the Golden Strands have more experience with fighting, and I don't know about your daughter. But... I think it would be best if we didn't fight. I'd feel awful if these people, even if they are Republicans, were to be hurt in our battle. I love wanton destruction, but hate taking lives. Could you maybe transport them off a cliff?"
The President looked horrified at the idea. "Son, do you know just how many lives were talking about here? There are enough people to over populate ten Galaxies three times over!"
Daniel looked upwards, the clouds in the sky turning a dismal black, thundery sort. "I don't like the idea, but if lives are going to be lost, at least do the duty yourself Sir."
The President, still in a state of shock, Admitted the less than honorable truth. "They... They're just clones of myself, in case I get defeated, they'll be activated and launch an all out attack. I... I lied." daniels eyes perked up tremendously. "OH, IN THAT CASE! I'M ALL FOR IT THEN!"
The Puppet King stared in disbelief as his attacks failed to hit their marks. He didn't understand what had gone wrong, in the past, he had always managed to nail down an opponent with a simple fling of his wrist, a few fancy words and that would be that. But something was definitely wrong now.
'Master?' He thought inwardly, hoping the Great Mouth would have something to say about the abborant issues. He waited, and unfortunately, during that time of waiting, the giant cybernetic blue whale he had been fighting, close enough to give it a hug if he so desired, and he hadnt really felt the need to, simply rolled over to the left a little and smashed his tiny frame into the ground.
"OUCH!" He muttered silently as his new found enemy repeated the unfriendly gesture one more time.
"You're losing your touch." The Great Mouth said plainly. "I've been up here the entire time, and YOU SUCK!" These words, even as loud as he spoke them, couldnt get passed the five hundred tons of blubber, steel, and Van Damn like persistence of the cybernetic blue whale's mass.
The whale, being completely out of its element, went with a new tactic that it thought was really, really clever.
It decided to roll a little to the right, and just as a afterthought, rolled back to the left. Barney Fife, for whatever reason he had to be thinking about, thought that the whale was just being a moronic jackass. The whale, in truth, was just not that great at coming up with brilliant things.
"Ah, the majestic devine retribution that you've brought upon yourself is JUST fascinating! The decision to either kill that which you've brought, unkowningly into this fine degenerating mess is almost interesting!" The Fat Man roared with laughter after a torturous and uneventful trek back to the perch where Morgan had been waiting. the Lost Wolf simply muttered something incomprehensable to the Fat Man and sat down on the perchs ledge.
"I have to ask this out of curiousity Chasm, but if you and the Door are simply having the longest playdate I've ever seen, and everything's grinding together, why don't you two do something to stop it?" He asked, brushing some red hair out of his face. The Fat Man blinked once, trying to understand where this was coming from.
"... Because I don't want anything to get in the way of my absorbing the Door's army into my own. Seriously? I'M THE **** CHASM OF NON-FRIGGIN-EXISTENCE! WHAT ABOUT THAT DON'T YOU GET!?"
"Everything apparently. Listen I have a question..."
"You're going to hit me again arent you?"
"Yeah... But I just wanted to ask..."
The Fat man leaned uneasily again the giant metal cheesewheel of death that Morgan had seen so many times before.
"HOW THE **** DID YOU SURVIVE ALL THOSE TIMES GETTING RUN OVER!?" The Lost Wolf roared angrily, rearing back and slamming the Fat Man in the face twice as hard as before, sending the poor blubbery soul flinging far into the distance.
It was at this moment that something interesting happened, the Fat Man, being almost the shape of a World War two artillary shell, punctured a tiny hole in the fabric that separated the Dimension Between Dimensions from everything else, where he slammed through a now possesed President Obama, the gaping hole instantly healed, but with a vitally important organ missing, which for lack of a better situation, left him feeling a little dead. The lost wolf, in his frustration, with one simple action, had punctured a hole in a place not meant to be linked to any other place, slammed the most hilariously incompetant enemy out of range of his fist, and had mysteriously zombified the already possessed President of, what had been just four years earlier, the United States of America.
He just didn't know it yet.
The ant, who had now switched sides between the Door and the Chasm around five hundred twenty five thousand, six hundred and fourteen times, all while trying to find his long sought after ant hill, sensed there was a hole in the ground nearby a recently decpitated gingerbread man, whose head still had the freshest frosting, but at the same time, wasn't entirely sure what the hell just happened. The ant, with grain seed in hand, bolted towards it with the speed of Nonexistence. The tiny bug fit perfectly though the tiny hole, which incedently, shredded the poor bastard into nothing, and the insects soul was free from the continuous cycle of fighting.
Unfortunately for anyone else who was hoping that things that shouldn't escape from place not meant to be escaped from..
The hole cracked,
... And otherwise did not stay the same tiny size it once had been. It instead opted to grow four hundred times the size of the already massive cybernetic blue whale, who, in a flash of instant genius, decided to roll, and keep on rolling, to the right. Which in the Puppet King's mind, wasn't really that helpful. The Lost Wolf, sensing, and seeing the mistake he had made, was face palmed by seven versions of the six handed Shiva.
The only words that made sense to say, were "Oh my **** god... What have I done!?"
Somewhere, somehow, Skylar still sat, eating his popcorn, laughing at the whole thing.
Bobby wasn't sure what had just transpired before him, at last count, he and his friends had just landed on a Dimensional Doorway that led to eight seperate Earths, each one with their own twist. The doorway they had chosen to enter through was that of their Earth, the one where everything was screwed up so badly, that even God had to decided to let it play out in the hopes that someone, somewhere, somehow, would set everything right. But it couldn't be put back into place like some sort of demented puzzle that was strewn all over a child's playroom.
'It's too much... I don't know how we're going to get things back to normal... I don't really think we can at this point...' He thought to himself as a new Zombified President shambled from ground, and slow, disjointedly brushed himself off. He was still too fresh, but Bobby knew that blood lusting look anywhere in anything undead.
"We'll just do what we've done thus far, beat the crap out whatever this thing is and hope to god there's an end to all of this somewhere down the line."
The Clones of the President that filled the seats of every one of the cars and motor cycles did nothing, They knew the time would come, it's what had been genetically programmed into them for in the cloning pods. They each feared for their life, their own being, and the thought of the order simply sent shivers down each of the seven trillion clones identical spines.
"You... Really think that everything's going to be fine!?" Sasha screamed into Daniel's ear.
"No. We've seen the damage the Golden Strands had done, and there is no way in hell that things are EVER going back to the way they were! Morgan said he has a plan, but left us out on the details. Anyways, this is always awkward Sasha, but apparently, your evil, zombie of a dad wants to kill us, and we need to snuff him out first." Blake said sarcastically as he seemed ready to take anything on that decided it was a good day to start lobbing some fists in his direction. "To tell the truth, I'm still looking to kick ****, take some names, and not show up for many of the previously made reservations!"
Nordafet and Reason had the same thought, and the thought had something to do with the change in Blake's behavior since they had left his office building. "Not showing up for previously made reservations IS GOING TOO FAR!"
The Zombie President wasted no time in launching his attack, dashing towards them at a earth shatteringly fast shuffle, making it seem to the others like he was either doing a really bad foxtrot, or impersonating a armless man with a major case of jock itch.
"That's... hilarious..." Sasha said, not knowing wither to laugh or cry at this point.
"Jh?mb? ?ana m??u? p??a, ph?nda, dunda!" The Zombie President said as he launched his still somewhat living fist at Daniel's throat. It slapped him across the face, just barely hard enough for him to notice that something was really awful about a dismembered hand hitting him in the head.
"Dude... That's just... WHAT THE HELL!?" He yelled as he tossed it back.
"LEROY JENKINS!" The annoying voice shouted as the WOW raid ruiner returned with more clones. Gandalf the recurapted returned with the Balrog, presumably to do his duty and shout the only thing he really knew how to shout. but with gusto.
"YOU SHALL NOT... Oh forget it, I'm going home." He laughed in a puff of smoke and was gone.
"Jh?mb? ??rn??? p?ra!" The President shouted as he shuffled a little bit closer, his ribcage ripping open like some demonized crack addicted venus flytrap at a rave. Black smoke, thick enough to be mistaken for a type of non breathable liquid, poured out and slammed into the ground, bouncing and twisting as skeletal arms roared from the ground. The Zombie President laughed insidiously as the disjointed, undead signal was given to the Clones waiting impatiently in the centillions of cars.
"WELL IT'S ABOUT DAMNED TIME!" One clone said as he unbuckled his seat belt.
"YEAH!" Another shouted spiritedly.
"I NEED TO BE HOME IN TIME TO WATCH MATLOCK!" There was a sudden pause in the air, the clones frozen in whatever position they happened to be in.
"You're staying in the car."
"Yeah... No fighting for you! Wait till your Father gets home!" Another said calmly in motherly tones.
The skeletal arms and the now massive cloud of Clones roared towards the group. The Golden Strands changed something to make it look like he had a preachers cloak on.
"THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELLS YOU!" He shouted and launched a single, flimsy, freshly glued wooden cross at one of the clones. It smacked him in the head, causing him to give pause for a few seconds. This was merely just to get the sticky mess off of his forehead, then he resumed his rampant charge towards them.
"Don't we usually lob insanely powerful special attacks at them?" Skylar asked, still sitting in his corderoy recliner, eating popcorn. His recliner had somewhat changed into a fabric covered ED109 that zwipped anytime it made a movement.
This, was immensely hilarious to Blake. "Oh... Duh, um...Ripping-Rachen des tödlichen Hölle!" Blake roared, smashing his fist into the ground. He waited a few seconds before he saw a tiny crack in the ground, glowing bright green with the power of nature, wind, and the ever present minty flavor that he had never truly learned to like.
"What the hell is that!?" Bobby screamed as a hobo with a shotgun sprung out of the ground, accompanied by a screaming toddler around three years old. The Clones and the Undead, were slightly more traumatized by the screaming toddler than by the hobo with the shot gun. The hobo they knew how to deal with and gave her some spare change and she gladly went away, pushing a shopping cart to some distant land where the people there would in turn, give her a dollar and some pocket lint for her to go somewhere else.
The toddler on the other hand, just would not shut the flying **** up.
They tried everything, Barney, Spongebob, Dora the explorer, a stuffed animal version of the space pope, and even when driven to desperate measures, Disney Princesses on ice and various Barbie videos combined couldn't shut the darling toddler up. Its screams of unpleasantness ripped up huge chunks of highways, duge through their perfect strategy of huge numbers for really, really simple tasks, and in general, caused them to explode by the hundreds of thousands.
"Seriously?" Blake asked, not knowing just how powerful and deadly the average toddler screaming could be.
For just a few seconds, they experienced the presence of Jesus Christ.
"JESUS!? Is this the second coming!?" Daniel asked hopefully.
"Naw... The fourth. I went to a Seven Eleven twice before to pick up some nachos and beef jerky for the Sharks game a few millenia back. Anyways, yo screaming toddler!" Jesus shouted, pointing a glowing finger at the crying thing. the toddler, turned the shock wave inducing voice towards Jesus, causing him to age four years. "SHUT UP! I'M WATCHING A DAD DAMNED MOVIE UP THERE! Vanilla Sky I think... Here! Take the damned teddy bear-"
"DEAR YOUR DAD IN HEAVEN MAN! THIS LITTLE KIDS WRECKING THE CRAP OUT OF THAT ONCOMING CLUSTER OF DEATH! DO NOT SILENCE THIS UNKNOWINGLY POWERFUL WEAPON!" Skylar shouted in a flustered panic as his ED109 zwipped repeatedly. Jesus, now turning towards the oncoming cluster of destruction just a few seconds after giving the toddler the teddy, quickly took it back, but the toddler would not let go.
"... Dad damn it. Well, I'm off!"
"FRIGGIN DOUCHE BAG! NOW WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO!?" Blake shouted angrily.
"Summon a bunch more? I dunno. I just popped by to get some nachos." Jesus said with hope, snapped his fingers, and in his place were five hundred screaming, tantrum throwing, rage induced toddlers that were wondering just was the hell was really going on.
The Zombie President, realizing the horror he was bearing witness to, press onward, making a note to give every toddler in the world at LEAST one teddy to nullify any screaming going on. Bobby on the other hand, could not help but laugh at the sound of Skylar's robotic recliner zwipping in time with the massive explosions.
The tear widened in the middle of nothing, revealing the infinite amount of variations of an even greater infinite amount of places. Each of them, flashing into existence, birthing their own cultures and exploding into nothing just as quickly. Both sides gradually stopped fighting as everyone and everything became entranced in the parade of planets and homeworlds they had so long ago left behind when they had each passed away. For a single moment, the Bloody Knight in rusted shut armor saw his homeland, with its towers of melted stone, rivers of crystal blue waters, fields of velvety red grass and its magnificent day glow aqua blue sky, it made him stop just short of completely impaling a cartoonish grandfather clock with his spiral lance.
"It... It brings back so many fond memories. Why must we be compelled to constantly fight against each other like spoiled children of some long forgotten play!?" He raged, his face contorting behind the slits in the rust colored helmit. The grandfather clock, complete with old timey moustache, monocle, and jar of saltwater taffy, didn't say anything. Mainly because it had no mouth, it could only tick and tock sadly, yearning for its own cartoonish world, in which everything had a life of its own in one way or another.
"You're right, we shouldn't be fighting each other, there's simply no point in it, after all, I kill you, you come back and kill me, and the cycle simply continues nonstop! But, out there! Beyond these seemingly infinite spans of blood soaked, cherry scented smoke filled battlefields, there lies a place where things are simply finite, if you die once, that's it! You STAY dead!" The Bloody Knight laughed heartily. "Spread the word, fellow combatant, spread the... Right, no mouth. We need someone who knows Morse Code. I SAY, YOU THERE, YES YOU!" The Knight shouted at a distracted spider. "You know Morse?" He asked the tap dancing insect.
"Yeah... He's over there." The spider replied somewhat lamely, pointing a single leg in the direction of the creator of morse code.
Meanwhile, the Golden Strands, Bobby, Nordafet, Blake, Daniel, Skylar, Sasha, and for some strange reason two penguins driving monster trucks, wearing tutus and shouting the word pie for no reason what so ever, stared at the Zombie President while the crowd of screaming toddlers rampage onward, simply sitting in one place. The Zombie President, whose eardrums had long ago fallen out for one reason or another, stared in disbelief at the screaming toddlers, whose rampage had decimated his entire plan to kill off his daughter. Daniel simply snapped his fingers and a slingshot with a sniper scope on it slowly faded into his outstretched hands. Meanwhile, the nightmarishly long line of traffic had, by any circumstance, become worse. Meaning that the cars piled up on one another, burst into flames, exploded, and generally did not hold together at all like regular cars.
The Human carefully aimed and let a single pellet fly out of his hands, it had suddenly decided to zip passed the intended target, and puncture the hull of a overturned tanker. The tanker, thinking that this kind of thing shouldn't be stood for, decided to teach the pellet a lesson, and erupted with all of its might, into a really big ball of flame, scraps of metal, plastic, and rubber, and the odd playing card or two to make it memorable. The other cars, that were close by, thought this would be a really interesting thing to do as well, and blew themselves up as well. In one of the cars, Stephen Colbert and Rachel sat, each countering the others catchphrase with their own, or a hearty slap in the face.
This continued till their car, decided to ignite its own gas tank and explode.
The line of explosions grew bigger and louder, taking out huge chunks of highway, throughway, roundabout, bypass, overpass, tunnel, stoplight, crosswalk, one, two, three, and fourway stops, and everything on afore mentioned roads, clearing out around fifty eight percent of the Clones who had decided to remain in the vehicles and not join in the jovial and mostly shortlived fighting.
"Damn! Daniel has skills!" Blake said as the Zombie President slowly turned in time to catch a fast approaching tire through the head.
"It ain't over yet, we still have to do something about that really weird cycle of colors going on up there." Skylar mentioned as he zwipped his robocliner towards the gorup.
"OH! NOW you decide to join us, AFTER the fighting is over with?" Bobby roared with a little annoyance.
"WHAT FIGHTING!? All Daniel did was hit a truck, and that sucker decided to blow the crap up, taking most of whatever the hell we were going to fight with it, and Blake summoned that guy with the shotgun, but the Clones bought his **** off their case, and he went somewhere else! Along with that, there was a screaming toddler, and that also took care of things!"
"WHAT ABOUT THAT THING OF POPCORN!?" Nordafet shouted, pointing at the dufflebag full of cereal.
"You're blind, aren't you?" The Golden Strands asked casually. "That's Life cereal..." Suddenly, without warning, some guy named Mikey started munching on it with all his might.
"HEY MIKEY! HE LIKES IT!" Blake shouted.