Roosevelt Is My Only Judge!
"Glub! I can't eat any... anymore..." I cried, unable to consume any more butterscotch-filled cicada shells.
"Don't stop now, Gyrobo, you're on a roll!" shouted my toaster from the sidelines. Only household appliances would have such unwavering faith.
"But... never mind." I said, trying to bite my tongue.
If word got out that there was a fast food chain capable of producing cicada shells with the same tangy aftertase as a galaxy-class chef, Starkey Al-Hvmmmmm would be ruined. It's not that I care about him, as his species destroyed my planet (at least, they would have if we had one). But he's got about a thousand kids spread out across half the universe. How could he provide for them if I cut off his only source of income?! How could anyone be so heartless?!
"Beep!" I screamed, trying to confuse the judges. "Beep! Ten divided by zero! The square root of negative five..."
If they had been robots, their brains would have exploded by then.
"...negative five?"
"Stop stalling and eat!" came a familiar voice from behind me. I turned around to see none other than the ghost of Teddy Roosevelt. "Avenge me!"
"Yes, Mr. President! For T.R!" With renewed vigor, I laid into those cicadas. "I'll do to this plate of inedible food what you did to Panama!"
"What in the Sam Hill are you talking about?" asked Randy.
"Cram it, Porkins! Only Roosevelt is my judge! Emoticon thirty four!"
"Roosevelt? Uh... who is 'Roosevelt?'"
"Technically, it would be 'Roosevelts,' plural. There are two, Franklin and Teddy. They speak through me to fulfill their twin desires to conserve woodland and rebuild the economy."
"Uh... the former presidents? The dead former presidents?"
"They may be dead... but they were never born. We are the legacy, Porkins."
Simon walked over and took away my cicadas. "I'm willing to give you a passing mark if you'll just calmly leave," he said slowly, putting his hands up in a defensive posture. He knew from experience what this could turn into.
"Fool!" I bellowed, knocking the table over. "You thought you could control the Roosevelts! But they evaded you, didn't they? They only wanted you to think they left office... but they're still president! Both of them!"
"Security, we need some assistance," whispered Randy into his walkie talkie. That's when I lost it.
"Porkins! Can't you see it?! Can't you hear the big picture?!" He turned his face away from me and covered it with his hands, hoping I would ignore his data and share the secrets with someone else. And he was 100% right.
"Simon?! Are you reading me?!" I crackled as I ran over to him. "Don't you see?! It's so funny! Ha ha ha," I laughed in monotone. His face crinkled up.
"Remember Bloth from that old show, the Pirates of Dark Water?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "Of course you do. We all remember ol' Captain Bloth. But no one knew that he was..." and I turned my head a full 360 degrees to assure myself that no one was watching. "based on a true story."
"I'd love to stay here," pleaded Simon, "but I can see from this window that someone is breaking into my car. So I have to go... right now..."
"Simple Simon! You have no car. It's in your mind. But as I was saying, Bloth, he's real But he's not after the treasures of Rule. No... he's been rigging elections. Trying to steal the Roosevelts' mandate. You believe me... don't you?!"
Simon was close to tears. "I... you win! You win," he cried. "You win the eating contest!"
Once again, the Roosevelts provide for their only true follower!
"But wait," I looked over at the plates of baked pickrat and chocolate asparagus. "Don't I have to eat all that?"
"No! You win! By default!"
"Fair enough. Now, Simon, I don't ask this to anybody, but..." I turned my head another 360 degrees. Simon started shaking. "Would you like to leave your existence behind and fight for the Roosevelts? In their realm?!"
"I have to... uh..."
He screamed, and bolted for the exit. I turned to Randy.
"I guess he didn't want to join the Roosevelt Historical Society. See you tomorrow." and I walked back to my geodesic dome.
"Don't stop now, Gyrobo, you're on a roll!" shouted my toaster from the sidelines. Only household appliances would have such unwavering faith.
"But... never mind." I said, trying to bite my tongue.
If word got out that there was a fast food chain capable of producing cicada shells with the same tangy aftertase as a galaxy-class chef, Starkey Al-Hvmmmmm would be ruined. It's not that I care about him, as his species destroyed my planet (at least, they would have if we had one). But he's got about a thousand kids spread out across half the universe. How could he provide for them if I cut off his only source of income?! How could anyone be so heartless?!
"Beep!" I screamed, trying to confuse the judges. "Beep! Ten divided by zero! The square root of negative five..."
If they had been robots, their brains would have exploded by then.
"...negative five?"
"Stop stalling and eat!" came a familiar voice from behind me. I turned around to see none other than the ghost of Teddy Roosevelt. "Avenge me!"
"Yes, Mr. President! For T.R!" With renewed vigor, I laid into those cicadas. "I'll do to this plate of inedible food what you did to Panama!"
"What in the Sam Hill are you talking about?" asked Randy.
"Cram it, Porkins! Only Roosevelt is my judge! Emoticon thirty four!"
"Roosevelt? Uh... who is 'Roosevelt?'"
"Technically, it would be 'Roosevelts,' plural. There are two, Franklin and Teddy. They speak through me to fulfill their twin desires to conserve woodland and rebuild the economy."
"Uh... the former presidents? The dead former presidents?"
"They may be dead... but they were never born. We are the legacy, Porkins."
Simon walked over and took away my cicadas. "I'm willing to give you a passing mark if you'll just calmly leave," he said slowly, putting his hands up in a defensive posture. He knew from experience what this could turn into.
"Fool!" I bellowed, knocking the table over. "You thought you could control the Roosevelts! But they evaded you, didn't they? They only wanted you to think they left office... but they're still president! Both of them!"
"Security, we need some assistance," whispered Randy into his walkie talkie. That's when I lost it.
"Porkins! Can't you see it?! Can't you hear the big picture?!" He turned his face away from me and covered it with his hands, hoping I would ignore his data and share the secrets with someone else. And he was 100% right.
"Simon?! Are you reading me?!" I crackled as I ran over to him. "Don't you see?! It's so funny! Ha ha ha," I laughed in monotone. His face crinkled up.
"Remember Bloth from that old show, the Pirates of Dark Water?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "Of course you do. We all remember ol' Captain Bloth. But no one knew that he was..." and I turned my head a full 360 degrees to assure myself that no one was watching. "based on a true story."
"I'd love to stay here," pleaded Simon, "but I can see from this window that someone is breaking into my car. So I have to go... right now..."
"Simple Simon! You have no car. It's in your mind. But as I was saying, Bloth, he's real But he's not after the treasures of Rule. No... he's been rigging elections. Trying to steal the Roosevelts' mandate. You believe me... don't you?!"
Simon was close to tears. "I... you win! You win," he cried. "You win the eating contest!"
Once again, the Roosevelts provide for their only true follower!
"But wait," I looked over at the plates of baked pickrat and chocolate asparagus. "Don't I have to eat all that?"
"No! You win! By default!"
"Fair enough. Now, Simon, I don't ask this to anybody, but..." I turned my head another 360 degrees. Simon started shaking. "Would you like to leave your existence behind and fight for the Roosevelts? In their realm?!"
"I have to... uh..."
He screamed, and bolted for the exit. I turned to Randy.
"I guess he didn't want to join the Roosevelt Historical Society. See you tomorrow." and I walked back to my geodesic dome.
posted by Gyrobo at 9:42 AM
17 Comments:
Yo dog, that was freaky. The way you intimidated me and Simon was off the hook. You are the bomb, you're the cat's pajamas, you... are my number one!
(please don't poke me again, dog)
I have a painting of a Rose on Velvet.
But it is not a Rose, its a dog bullfighting and it is not on Velvet, but on the back of a napkin. That napkin was given to me by Carl Withers, the only solider to hunt the Predator, who was not elected Governor in a US state.
Think about it.
(Henchmen, the trick is to out crazy Gyrobot.)
Aoc I'll try it the bun is in your mind!!!!
Understanding is the first step to recovery. That's why they put Roosevelt away, because he knew.
I thought Roosevelt died of natural causes. Why would he need revenge?
It's not doing my appetite any good.
Teddy Roosevelt died for my sins. No wait, that was Teddy Ruxpin.
It just might work, AOC.
Franklin died of natural causes. Teddy was trampled by the bull moose he sought to control. Such is the fate of heroes.
*whispers* I see dead presidents … eating Freedom fries … everywhere.
At least they aren't eating freedom pie in public, AOC
The Roosevelts are responsible for freedom fries. Whispering into the ears of the living, they still wield influence!
Beware the Roboshrub! Beware the Roosevelt!
So if Teddy want's you to avenge him, then he wants you to hunt down that moose and do what to him exactly?
Form a two-party system and incorporate its ideals into one of them, of course.
I think I have a headache
I recommend a bottle of soy sauce.
Actually, you don't win, winning requires talent, of which you have none.
How did you find out?!
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