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Description
Sunlight filters through the many windows of a quiet room. In the center there sits a large desk covered in various documents and odd baubles. The door opens and a tall man walks in. He is dressed in the traditional light green flak jacket of Grass Village, long black pants and a bright blue and red Hawaiian shirt underneath. He settles down into a high backed chair behind the desk and begins to shuffle through various papers. He pushes back his long pony tail and absentmindedly touches a long scar that runs over his right eye.

Craig: I really fucking hate paperwork. If I knew becoming Kage was all paperwork, I would've kept wandering.

An insistent beeping distracts him from the much hated paperwork. He looks around until his gaze settles on a small crystal ball. He sighs and taps the surface of the ball, the image of a dark man in his mid thirties.

Craig: What's up Ali?

Ali: What's up? Why do you think that there's always something up? Couldn't it be possible that I just want to talk to one of my old friends? I am highly insulted, my own friend, not trusting me. I don't know what to think.

Craig just looks at Ali, who grins sheepishly.

Ali: Sorry, living in the desert can make you a little high strung.

Craig: I can understand that. So what's up?

Ali: Have you heard of the mission I had Foster conduct?

Craig: Of course, my spies in Mountain Village are very precise.

Ali: He told you himself, didn't he?

Craig is silent and glares at Ali.

Craig: Silence. So what's up?

Ali: Well I've been tracking the movements of all the old Republicans. Cheney was just the tip of the iceberg. I think they're up to something.

Craig: Like what? I've noticed that they seem to be moving around a lot, but they always have. What makes now any different?

Ali: Now the scale is all different. There are hundreds of Republican-nins moving around. I think that they're up to something.

Craig: And you want me to investigate it?

Ali: In a manner, now listen...

Craig: Fine, I'll order some ANBU out to investigate. Anything else?

Ali: Oh come on, you can't be THAT busy can you?

Craig: Actually, I do have a shit load of work to do.

Ali: You're too busy to go out with an old buddy and kill Republicans? Come on Craig, I know you better than that!

A grin creeps across Craig's face, and Ali answers it with a grin of his own.

Craig: Tell me when and where.

Ali: That's the spirit, I was afraid you'd gone soft on me.

Craig: I can never go soft with your mom always stopping by.

Ali: There's my old teammate. I'll send a trustworthy courtier with all the information as soon as possible.

Craig: Why the rush?

Ali: Well your mom just won't wait any longer. You know the old saying; once you taste Arab, you never go back.

The crystal ball fogged up and the image of Ali disappeared before Craig could respond. He leans back into the chair and stairs off into the distance, a smirk lightly hidden in the corner of his mouth.

Craig: Well I do need a break; I've been working like a dog. Plus, the world would be a better place without all those evil-doers...

Out in the main courtyard of the Grass Village Ninja Academy, a ninja comes into being in a great poof of smoke (ah, poof, great word). A female shinobi in her mid twenties waves the smoke away and strides purposefully towards the administration building. A guard moves to stop her, but she waves a scroll in his face that bears the Wind Country seal. The guard waves her through. Fade to Craig's office where he's conversing in hushed tones to several Jounin. There is a light tapping at the door and it opens revealing another Jounin, and the strange female ninja.

Jounin: Kusakage, a messenger from Hidden Sand country to see you.

Craig examines her and waves the Jounin around him away.

Craig: Show her in, you gentlemen have my orders, notify the proper people.

The others exit, leaving Craig and the female ninja.

Craig: How are you Eleanor-kun? I haven't seen you in years.

Eleanor: Yeah, yeah. Spare it; I'm only doing this 'cause Morgan asked me to.

Craig: You're so polite, as ever. Well then, you're task is done. Say hello to the family for me.

Eleanor: Oh, Dean had a question for you. Are you still beefy?

Craig: Yes Eleanor, I am very beefy. See you in another 10 years.

She teleports away and Craig settles down into his chair, this eyes darting back and forth, scanning the scroll.

Craig: Excellent.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fade to a small rural town. The kind with wooden houses that are hundreds of years old and forests on either side. Off in the distance, a figure can be seen walking up the road, his great gray cloak billowing around him. As he walks into town, another figure appears from the shadows and starts walking beside him. The new figure wears a great black cloak and a broad Chinese farmer's hat.

Craig: You do know that that hat makes it really easy to identify you.

Ali: Yeah I know, but habits are hard to break.

Craig: So is anyone joining us in this little sortie?

Ali: Maybe, I did leave some invitations with some friends of ours. They may show up.

Craig: Awesome, so where are the Republicans?

Ali: Well they've set up their cult in the woods. I figure we'll be there in about 30 minutes. Once there, we'll figure out their plans and strategize the best way for killing Republican-nins.

Craig: Sounds good to me. Anything else?

Ali: Nope, let’s go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In a clearing deep in the forest, a huge mob of people gather around small campfires. Slightly off to the side, there’s a clear area with a wide circle cut into the ground. Ninjas in business suits sit at odd intervals around the circle. They all seem to be praying, their hands clutched, mumbling strange things. Pan to Craig and Ali who sit in a tree, watching everything that transpires. Ali turns to Craig:

Ali: Well, I think I can easily say that this is one of the oddest things I’ve ever seen.

Craig: Seconded. That’s a summoning circle. What the hell are they doing?

Ali: No idea. But let’s come up with a way of stopping them. Any new abilities of yours I should know about?

Craig: Why would you want to know my abilities?

Ali rolls his eyes at Craig’s thoughtless comment.

Ali: Well how the hell am I supposed to come up with a plan if I don’t know what you can do? You use massive amounts of ninjutsu and open gates still?

Craig: Fine, you pushy bastard. I still know lots of ninjutsu, but I don’t open the gates anymore.

Ali (incredulous): Why? That’s an awesomely good technique.

Craig: Yeah, but it’s almost more trouble than it’s worth. In battle when I open gates, I find those usually hurt me more than the enemy does. Also, I once opened up to the 8th and final gate, and it shredded many of my muscles.

Ali: Ouch, goddamn that sucks.

Craig: Yeah, it took me months of damn rehabilitation. So look at this...

Craig unzips his flak jacket and unbuttons his shirt to show Ali a section of his chest. Over his heart, Craig has an intricate seal.

Ali: What the hell is that?

Craig buttons back up his Hawaiian shirt and zips his flak jacket.

Craig: That, my friend, is a 3 part Dragon seal. I sealed my ability to open past the 3rd gate.

Ali: Well I suppose that’s a good thing. So how’s this for a plan, we go down there, kill as many weak stooges as possible, and 1 on 1 against any strong ninjas. Sound good?

Craig: Yeah, let’s go whoops some ass. Let me just get my ass-whooping weapon. Summoning!

Craig slams his hand onto a neighboring tree branch and a great black case appears. He opens it and extricates a large Baritone Saxophone.

Ali: Wow, going with the heavy artillery I see.

Craig: I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea with the sheer amount of foes we have to overcome.

Ali pulls his trumpet out from under his cloak. His trumpet is different than the one Craig remembers, this trumpet is half silver, half bronze and it gleams beautifully in the sun.

Ali: Well, I'm glad we learned the Metal Animation technique from Dole-sensei a long time ago. It gives us an excuse to keep our instruments with us at all times.

Craig: Shall we?

Ali: Let's. Metal Animation Technique!!

The trumpet in his hand begins to shake and in a flash transforms into a half silver/ half bronze scimitar.

Craig: Metal Animation Technique!!

The baritone sax flashes and in its place Craig wields a large spear.

Craig: I'll see you on the flip side.

With that he teleports away, to a different part of the forest so that when he and Ali attacked, it would cause as much confusion as possible. Ali, having given Craig plenty of time, gathers all of his strength into his legs. With a little wind augmentation, Ali leaps high above the gathered Republicans. He waves his hands around to generate an updraft that will slow his descent and keep him airborne for several more seconds. He makes massive hand sealage ((c) of Foster) as he falls.

Ali: Whirlwind Aura!

As Ali drops to the ground, the wind begins to pick up. The closer to the ground he gets, the stronger the wind whirls in his vicinity. Finally, as Ali touches ground, a full-blown tornado erupts around him, sending Republicans flying willy-nilly. Hidden on the other side of the clearing, Craig chuckles to himself.

Craig: Impatient little git. I don't care what they say about Vikings being the ultimate berserkers, once that Arab gets the scent of battle; there isn't much that can stop him. Oh well, can't let him have all the fun. He'll be counting all his kills and I don't want to fall behind.

Craig concentrates and starts making hand seals.

Craig: Underworld Swamp of the Underworld!!

Much to the surprise of the lounging Republican-nins, the ground beneath them suddenly turns into a purple lake and they sink down to about mid chest. They struggle to free themselves, but the lake has thick mud lining the bottom. Craig jumps out of the tree and gathers chakra in his feet so that he stands on the water. He grins at the immobilized Republicans and idly toys with his spear.

Craig: Now the smart thing to do would be to use a high powered lightning justu and fry you all. But I prefer to let out all my frustration by slicing you all to hell.

Random Republican-nin: Sounds good to us, we're total pricks anyway.

Craig: Shall we get started?

The Republicans all nod. Craig grins and whips his spear around, neatly beheading one Republican. A slightly maniacal laugh escapes his lips as Craig runs at high speed slashing all around him. Flash back to Ali who is also having fun dismembering evil ninja politicians. He stops his onslaught for a second to catch his breath.

Ali (thinking): Damn this aura, I'd forgotten how much of a drain it is on my chakra. I'd best dispel it soon if I want to be able to use any other techniques.

Ali slows and allows a large amount of Republicans to gather just outside the reach of his localized tornado. A single hand seal later and the tornado explodes outward, scattering the Republicans like leaves at a certain Fall Festival in Ashfield.

Ali: Wind Sword Technique!!

A slight breeze picks us and a shimmering translucent blade appears in Ali's left hand that matches the design of his trumpet/scimitar. Ali twirls them around his body to dissuade any adventurous Republicans from attacking.

Ali: Alright bitches, eat this. Zephyr in the Willows Taijutsu!!!

The shimmer of chakra surrounds his body as he falls into a defensive stance, swords pointed down. The Republicans, showing usual intelligence for a mob, cower back and draw kunai.

Ali: What, don't want to attack the man whose name your mothers scream out nightly?

At the mention of their mothers, the Republican-nins forsake strategy and rush Ali. A ninja faster than the rest reaches Ali first and throws the obligatory straight punch. Instead of blocking, Ali drifts out of the way and lazily slices the Republican in half, sending crimson rocketing into the sky.

Ali: Oh come on, you all know you were destined to die; you may as well try and take me with you.

The throng seemingly takes this to heart as they rush Ali. With the grace of a tree in the wind (or a belly dancer) Ali twists and bends out of the way, slicing, dicing and splicing as he goes. Several Republicans, hoping to catch Ali unawares, hurl several shuriken at his exposed back. Ali doesn't even move, yet before the shuriken can touch his flesh, an invisible force blocks them and sends the shuriken skittering off into totally different directions.

Ali: Silly enemies, I shall...

In a blur Ali disappears. The shuriken throwers anxiously search for him, and then cease to be anxious as their heads roll away from their bodies.

Ali: ...send you to Allah.

Switch back to Craig who has dispatched the Republican-nins who were unable to free themselves from the quagmire (Oh yeah!). The rest stand on top of the water, regarding him coolly.

Craig: Do any of you have any preference as to how you die?

Several of them raise their hands. Craig randomly selects one of them.

Republican-nin: I wanted to die in Borneo.

Craig: Then go there. Now. I won’t stop you.

The single Republican waves farewell to his cohorts and walks off into the forest. Craig listens intently for the slightest sound and is rewarded with a twang, a swish and a scream.

Craig: And the stupid prick walks right into the rope trap. I am a heartless bastard sometimes. Who’s next?

Most of the hands drop at this last comment, but one brave soul risks it.

Craig: What?

The ninja walks over and whispers into Craig’s ear. Craig gives him a strange look and takes a half step back.

Craig: You are one kinky whore. Alright, I’m going to need some volunteers for this one.

After several minutes of preparation the Republican is ready to die. As per his request, the man’s head is underwater, his legs cut off at the knee, his stumps set on fire and his stomach tickled with banana palm leaves.

Craig: It takes all sorts I suppose. Okay, no more requests. That last one was just too weird. Fire Style: Fire Dragon Missile!!!!

Catching the Republicans unawares, Craig fries many of them with a large gout of white-hot flame. The rest take to the air to avoid the fire.

Craig: Oh no you don’t. Earth Style: Razor Spike Technique!!

Craig switches this spear to his other hand and slams his palm into the ground. All about him great jagged spikes rise out of the ground. The grins of those in midair freeze on their faces as gravity takes hold and they plummet to a horrible death. Craig winces as his former opponents are chopped into hamburger.

Craig: Well that should be most of them. By my count, I killed 84 Republicans. I wonder how many Ali got.

Craig walks over to the other side of the clearing where Ali is panting slightly and surrounded by a sea of headless bodies. Ali looks up and grins.

Ali: 89 bitches.

Craig: Damn, I owe you some sushi then. I only got 84 of the fuckers. Listen, there’s this great place that just opened in Wave Country, it has the freshest fish you ever.......

The conversation slowly peters out as the sound of clapping punctuates the still air. Two old men in business suits stand off to the side, one of them clapping and standing slightly ahead of the other.

Craig: My God, is that...

Ali: Strom Thurmond and Donald Rumsfeld?

Thurmond: Yes, it is us. And you have come to destroy out carefully laid plans. I suppose you want to know what they are?

Craig: No, not really.

Rumsfeld: Then we’ll tell you. We’ve been sacrificing the souls of decent middle class voters to resurrect our beloved leaders. Then with an invincible army of demon infused Republican heroes, we will be unstoppable.

Ali: You really enjoy the sound of your own voices, don’t you?

Thurmond: And once we have our beloved demon heroes, we shall remake this pathetic universe in the style that the great and almighty Dollar originally wanted.

Craig: For the love of any God, shut up, Shut up, SHUT UP!!!

While Craig and Ali are otherwise totally annoyed, a figure slowly creeps out of the forest and draws a large rifle out of his jacket. Charlton Heston carefully takes aim at Ali’s back.

Heston: Say goodbye, boys.

Voice: Leaf Herculean Spinning Wind!!

A white blur shoots out of the trees and slams into Charlton Heston, sending him flying one way, and the rifle in the other. Craig, Ali, Thurmond and Rumsfeld all turn and face the disturbance. A figure clothed in a white, silk kung fu uniform and green flak jacket stands majestically in the clearing, sunlight filtering down and small fluffy animals frolicking all about him. Charlton Heston spits out a tooth and gazes up at the gleaming figure above him.

Heston: Who the hell are you?

Figure: I am Konoha’s shining, beautiful flower of acceptance...

Morgan: MORGAN KENT!!!

Ali: You’re a fucking flower?

Craig (to Ali): You know he looks pretty flowery.

Morgan: Fuck you guys. Fuck you almost as much as I fucked your dads.

Craig (groaning and whispering to Ali): He still hasn’t given up the dad joke?

Ali (whispering back): Nope, we’ve pretty much given up all hope at this point.

Rumsfeld: Well this certainly is unexpected. Why would two decent White men hang out with a Native American?

Ali's left eye begins to twitch unhealthily as Craig holds him back.

Ali: That money laundering cadaver is mine!!!

Thurmond: We will never let you defeat us.

Heston: God bless the USA!!

Morgan: I don’t think you’re in any position to make assertions. We are 3 very powerful shinobi in our prime. While you....

As Morgan speaks, large red auras begin to surround Thurmond, Heston and Rumsfeld.

Morgan: ...are 3 old men who are infused with demon powers. Shit.

Craig: Prepare for the fight scene.

Morgan: I'm taking Heston, Ben-Hur here ain’t got shit on me.

Ali: And I have Rumsfeld. No one calls me a Native American and lives.

Craig: You’re not Native American?

Ali ignores that comment and launches himself at Rumsfeld. Craig sighs and slowly walks over to Strom Thurmond, who despite his large demonic aura, is so old and frail that it looks like a strong breeze may knock him over. Morgan grins and faces Charlton Heston who glares back at him. Ali sends a flying kick straight at Rumsfeld, who blocks it easily. Ali flips backwards as another Ali suddenly appears behind Rumsfeld and sends him flying. The back flipping Ali disappears in a cloud of smoke as the other performs hand seals. These being completed and Rumsfeld still airborne, Ali makes the Dog hand seal. He appears directly below Rumsfeld and thrusts his hand into the air.

Ali: Wind Style: Rising Wind Dragon Technique!!

Following the direction of Ali’s arm, a translucent shape erupts upward with a great displacement of air. Rumsfeld barely twists out of the way as the dragon of air zooms past.

Morgan: Don’t get too involved in that fight, don’t forget that you are my opponent.

Heston: I haven’t.

Charlton Heston reaches inside his jacket and withdraws two old fashioned revolvers.

Morgan: Shit, damn gun freak. I need to disarm him somehow.

Morgan turns towards Craig.

Morgan: What time is it?

Craig pauses and consults a pocket watch.

Craig: It’s 4:27.

Morgan: It’s Ninjutsu Time.

Morgan makes the hand sealage (once again © of Foster) and slams his hands into the ground.

Morgan: Earth Style: Earth Wall Technique!!!

A large rock wall rises out of the ground as Heston opens fire, the wall taking the brunt of the assault. A few hand seals later, and Morgan disappears in a poof of smoke. Charlton Heston, seeing no resistance, slowly inches around and peeks behind the wall.

Heston: Where the hell is he? To the side? Above? Behind?

Morgan (really muffled): Below!

A set of hands snakes out of the ground and encircles Heston's ankles. Suddenly from behind, Morgan bursts out of the ground and kicks Heston in the back of the head. Charlton Heston swings around to counterattack, but his feet are still being held.

Morgan: Now I'll just take these guns and kick your ass.

Heston: Not likely. From My Cold Dead Hands Technique!!

Morgan tries to wrestle the guns from Charlton Heston's grip, but a mysterious force keeps them firmly locked in his hands.

Craig and Strom Thurmond face each other.

Craig: Are you going to do anything, or am I just going to kill you?

Thurmond: Well kill me if you can! Summoning Technique!

Strom Thurmond bites his thumb and slams his palm into the ground. In a poof, about 30 people of mixed ethnicity appear, all of whom are chained.

Thurmond: Attack my slaves, while I sneak away.

Thurmond bolts into the woods. Craig and the slaves just stare at each other.

Craig: Do you all really want to attack me?

The slaves just stare at him. Craig walks over to them and with one swift strike, severs their chains. The slaves' faces light up in joy.

Slave: Free at last, free at last. Thank God almighty we're free at last! Now we must find Steven Spielberg so that he can make a movie about our travels.

The slaves jump for joy and run away.

Craig: Now I have to chase a decrepit old fool infused with demon powers. What a day.

Craig sighs and runs after Strom Thurmond. Ali and Rumsfeld face off in another part of the clearing.

Rumsfeld: I'm going to kill you like my ancestors killed yours.

Ali: I'm not a Native American you piece of shit!!

Rumsfeld: I know Tonto, I know. Me send you to place in sky. See maker.

Ali just glowers at him.

Ali: I hate you.

Rumsfeld reaches into his wallet and whips out several bills. He throws them into the air and makes some hand seals.

Rumsfeld: Money Shuriken!

The bills instantly straighten out and fly at Ali, their paper thin edges glinting evilly. Ali just waves his hand and the "shuriken" make a sharp U-turn and fly back at Rumsfeld. Rumsfeld barely dodges the "shuriken" by throwing himself to the ground. Ali grins at the dirty politician as Rumsfeld does his best to dust himself off and retain some dignity.

Ali: I have this special bloodline Rummy. And I've spent many years perfecting it to the point that it's almost impossible to him me with a throwing weapon. Now...

Ali hefts his scimitar and strides purposefully at Rumsfeld.

Ali: Let's dance.

Ali makes a dog hand seal and disappears in a flash. Rumsfeld's eyes dart here and there, looking for the windy Arab. He stiffens as a silver and bronze blade flashes out behind him and cleaves Rumsfeld in half. Ali looks with distain at the fallen Republican.

Ali: Oh come on, you have to be stronger than that. Fuck, this is a major disappointment.

As Ali looks away, Rumsfeld's body begins to deflate. Ali watches in surprise as the body of Rumsfeld vanishes and reverts to a large pile of money.

Ali: A Money Clone? Well that's fucked up. Though if I play my cards right during this fight, I could walk away a millionaire...

Ali's musing is interrupted by the pile of money at his feet suddenly springing up and binding his hands and feet. Rumsfeld walks out of his hiding place, one hand outstretched as if he were the one binding Ali.

Rumsfeld: I have you now. Soon you shall join your ancestors in a little place called Oklahoma.

Ali: I really hate you.

Rumsfeld: Be that as it may, DIE!!

Rumsfeld tightens his outstretched hand. Instantly the expensive bonds tighten and Ali groans in pain as the very thin edges slice into his skin.

Ali: So you're just going to hold me here and give me thousands of paper cuts?

Rumsfeld: Yes.

Ali: You totally fucking suck, you realize this right?

Rumsfeld: No, I am awesomely rich and demon possessed, get it right.

Ali just slumps his head, seriously pissed that his opponent sucks so much. Return to Morgan and Charlton Heston, who are still wrestling over the guns in Heston's grip.

Morgan: Fuck, I guess I really will have to pry those guns from your cold dead hands.

Heston: That's the idea.

Morgan: Well it's not too bad. Since both your hands are occupied, you can't do any handseals or hardly any taijutsu. And don't forget, I still have your legs trapped. Looks like I have the advantage-

Morgan stops talking as Heston levels one of the revolvers and shoots him in the head. Morgan collapses backwards like a broken doll. Blood leaks from his head profusely has he lays there, stone dead. With a mighty wrench, Heston breaks the hold of the hands holding his feet which disappear in a poof of smoke.

Heston: Stupid kid, he talked far too much. Well, I don't need these anymore. Release!

Heston tucks the guns back into his jacket and starts walking away. Suddenly the corpse of Morgan engulfs itself in smoke and is suddenly revealed to be...A LOG!! But not just any log, a log with a big smiley face stenciled on it.

Heston: Oh shit.

He feels a sharp pain below his chin and the world suddenly begins to fly past unhealthily. In a flash Morgan appears directly behind Heston.

Morgan: Prepare for an ass kicking, you NRA dick! Byakusharingan!

In midair, Morgan’s freaky eyes activate.

Morgan: Now, Über Lotus!

Morgan slams a gentle fist into the base of Heston’s spine. He then unleashes a Kaiten, catapulting Heston away, and causing Morgan to fall to the ground. In a burst of speed, Morgan intercepts the soaring Heston and smashes him with another gentle fist and Kaiten. Morgan continues this, juggling Heston in midair with gentle fists and Kaitens. Finally Heston begins to near the ground. Morgan grabs Heston from behind and begins to spin them both wildly as they speed toward the ground. Morgan lets go just as Heston slams into the ground with a gigantic explosion of rock and demonic chakra. Morgan kneels off to the side panting.

Morgan: I don’t expect him living through my greatest, most totally original move.

Switch to Craig, who is racing through the forest tracking the progress of Thurmond. He bursts from the forest into a clearing. This clearing, cinematically enough, is a large cliff. Strom Thurmond stands at the edge of the cliff, his arms crossed and his grin radiating aged evil.

Thurmond: I see you defeated my slaves.

Craig: Yes....I sure did.

Thurmond: Well I vary much doubt that you can beat me.

Craig: Well this kinda is my story. So that means me and my friends will not die. You will definitely lose.

Thurmond: Not without an interesting fight scene I won’t!

Craig: Granted. Now go perform your little evil summoning that totally screws us over.

Thurmond: I think I shall. Come forth, Demon Republicans!!!

The earth around the summoning circle begins to shake, bake, and steam. Our current three heroes look up and are amazed at what they see. Rising out of the earth around the summoning circle, hundreds of business suit clothed minor demons begin to rise out of the ground. An unholy growl fills the air as the demon catch sight of Ali and Morgan.

Ali: Oh shit, we are totally screwed over.

Morgan: Yes. We are definitely totally and utterly screwed over. Who the fuck writes this shit?

Ali: Dude, don't insult the writer. He'll turn you into a woman and have you be chased my perverted old men or something equally drastic and disturbing.

Craig's Voice (very quiet and distant): Damn straight! Now read your fucking scripts!

The demons advance menacingly toward Ali and Morgan. Suddenly a great rumbling echoes through the forest. All heads turn towards the foliage where birds fly and trees quake. Suddenly a great gray shape barrels out of the forest and skids to a stop, leaving twin furrows of dirt in the ground. As the dust settles, a deafening bellow shatters the quiet. Three shapes can be seen in a large pagoda on top of the Elephant (the supsence is killing me).

Figure 1: Beware, oh compatriots of evil...

Figure 2: For we are the harbingers of thy doom...

Figure 3: And stuff!!

Figures: We are...

The dust finally settles to reveal...

Nick, Foster and Luke: The Triumvirate!!!

The minor demons just stare at the odd trio doing the legendary Triple Nice Guy Pose. Crickets chirp and silence reigns supreme.

Ali: You're late.

Nick: Late, or hella early?

Morgan: Really fucking late.

Luke: Well maybe we shouldn't have come at all. Let's go Emu.

The giant elephant makes a slow turn and begins to head back into the forest.

Ali: Get back here you bastards.

Foster: That's exactly what your mom said last night.

Emu suddenly accelerates and stomps into a large group of demons, crushing them left and right. Nick and Foster jump off Emu and start wailing on the demons. Luke continues to steer Emu and rampage around. Ten demons surround Nick in an attempt to overcome him. In a flourish, Nick removes his kingly cape and swirls it around him. Out from the cape, many monkeys appear and begin battling with demon. Foster, who is also beset by demons, makes a hand seal and extends his arms. Snakes shoot out from his sleeves and impale themselves through the chests of demony demons (Have I said demon enough?). Using strength born of biomanipulation, Foster starts spinning around, dragging the demons with him and becoming a maelstrom of demonic death.

Luke: We'll clean up this little mess. You boys go back to your battles.

Morgan: Thanks fatass, we owe you one.

Craig: Ha Mr. Thurmond, it seems your evil summoning has been defeated by my convenient plot device.

Thurmond: Damn you. You shall never win. Flame of Freedom Technique!

Suddenly a large blast of flame in the shape of a flag erupts from Thurmond's mouth. Craig quickly dives to the side and when he looks up, Thurmond has disappeared without a trace.

Craig: Shit. Well, thank Yama for summons.

Craig runs his thumb along the blade of his spear spilling some blood and slams it into the ground. A small dog in a Leaf village vest and forehead protector peers out at him out of the smoke.

Craig: No time for pleasentries Pakkun. We're hunting Strom Thurmond.

Pakkun: Again?

Craig: No, no. That last time was Ashcroft. This is someone else.

Pakkun: Well, my mistake, all old rich white dudes smell the same.

Pakkun gets up and starts sniffing around. He walks up to the edge of the cliff and stops.

Pakkun: He jumped off the cliff.

Craig: Shit. Seeing that I don't have demonic powers, thus could prove tricky for me. Any suggestions Pakkun?

Pakkun: Well I can smell running water close by. So there's probably a waterfall.

Craig: Thanks Pakkun, you rule. You can go back to the wife and family now.

Pakkun waves his paw as he disappears. Craig hefts his spear with a sigh and runs off in the direction of the waterfall. The sight that greets him is truly breathtaking. The waterfall cascades in multicolored torents. Craig pauses slightly to remove his flak jacket and Hawaiian shirt. He rummages through the shirt, removes several kunai, shuriken, and bandages and slips them into various holsters atrapped to his legs. He then puts the flak jacket back on and fastens it tight. Now being suitably girded for battle, he makes a running dive off the cliff and disappears into the mist generated by the waterfall. Switch to Ali who is still caught in Rumsfeld's Money Bind Technique.

Ali: I totally forgot that I was trapped. I suppose I should do something about that...

Rumsfeld: There is nothing you can do. Nothing is stronger than the dollar!

Ali: What about the Euro? I heard that begause of Europe's stronger economy, the euro-dollar exchange rate is currently very much in favor of the euro.

Rumsfeld starts to shake in rage. Ali just grins at the elderly man as he allows his advanced bloodline to go to work. Through subtle air current manipulation, he forms a strong updraft around him. Ali gathers his strength and prepares to leap.

Rumsfeld: You will die horribly for that!

Ali: I doubt it.

Ali leaps as hard as he can. The extra pull from the updraft quickly accelerates him and soon his momentum to too much for the flimsy money and Ali is free. Ali lands with a grin and starts running at Rumsfeld.

Rumsfeld: So what if you broke the hold of my money. I still have demon powers.

Rumsfeld counters Ali's foreward charge by also charging, except far faster. Right as they're about to collide, Rumsfeld throws a very unexpected punch. However Ali did expect it and he duck beneath it and extends his leg in a vicious side kick aimed at Rumsfeld's stomach. However Rumsfled's demon inhanced reflexes same his stomach but having him dodge ever so slightly upward. Not far enough upward as Ali's foot forcably contacts Rumsfeld's groin. However (twists within twists in this story) instead of hitting something of substance, Ali hears a click and his foot just keeps going.

Ali: Fucking inertia...

Ali slides underneath Rumsfeld, who in turn goes flying over Ali. Both collapse opposite of each other. A pair of silver ball bearings roll out of Rumsfeld’s pant legs.

Ali: Well will you look at that, a pair of balls.

Rumsfeld: Oh God, MY BALLS!!!

Ali: I just de-balled him. Sweet. Well, now is better than never to end this.

Ali staggers to his feet and starts making hand seals. He stops and extends one arm downward with the other holding his wrist.

Ali: Wind Style: A Thousand Slicing Winds!

A heavy wind picks up around Ali. The extended hand seems to shimmer as a distortion appears around it. Rumsfeld staggers to his feet in time to see Ali begin to charge straight at him.

Rumsfeld: Stupid Cherokee. He can’t beat my demon-enhanced speed.

Rumsfeld suddenly starts and spits a gob of blood out of his mouth. He looks at Ali charging at him and then noticed something strange. The Ali charging at him seems to be able to step through obstacles in his way. Then the pain catches up with him, a great searing pain in his back, in about the exact middle of his spine. Blood begins to leak profusely from Rumsfeld’s mouth as he haltingly turns his head to look at Ali, who stands directly behind Rumsfled with his hand inside Rumsfeld’s torso.

Rumsfeld: You used a fucking clone.

Ali: I did indeed. And now watch the best part of this technique...

Ali closes his eyes and concentrates while making one handed hand seals. Rumsfeld’s eyes get really wide as he feels the pressure building within him. Suddenly, and with much applause from those reading this, Rumsfeld’s chest explodes outwards in an explosion of blood and gore that would make ILM proud. Ali withdraws his bloody hand as Rumsfeld collapses lifeless to the ground. Ali reaches down and withdraws a wallet from Rumsfeld’s pocket.

Ali: Finders, keepers...

Switch to Craig who climbs out of a river, about 100 meters downriver of the waterfall. Lacking a towel, he shakes like a dog.

Thurmond: Well, it seems you found me again.

Craig: You know, this fight could have been done a long time ago if you hadn’t kept running away like some sort of damn old pussy.

Thurmond: Thems fightin’ words!

Craig: No, these are; bring it on you old flaming transexual.

Thurmond: Gah!! Demon Punch!!

Thurmond's red aura flares up as he rushes at Craig. He lets out an explosive punch, but Craig isn't there. Having finally learned over the years that frontal charges hardly ever work and that it hurts like hell to be hit by demons, Craig jumps over Thurmond and lands behind him. Thirmond spins arounf in time to see Craig finishing a series of hand seals.

Craig: Water Prison!

Water from the nearby river flies us and traps Thurmond in an inpenetrable bubble.

Craig: Caught ya you little piece of shit.

Thurmond: Yeah, so what are you going to do now?

Craig: This...

Craig starts to spin around. He starts slowly and gains momentum. Just as he reaches the point where the world flies by...

Craig: Release! (Kai!)

A very soggy Strom Thurmond suddenly finds himself flying through the air. He looks wildly around but a rather large and solid looking sycamore tree blocks his few. Craig quickly diverts his view as a resounding crunch anounces to the world that Strom Thurmond has found nature.

Craig: Well, he's most likely dead. The only thing that could survive that would be...

A sudden flare of chakra erupts from Thurmond as he staggers to his feet.

Craig: ...a demon. Crap, I always forget about that. It looks like I'll have to use THAT technique...

Thurmond: My god, does that hurt like a bitch.

Craig: You shouldn't insult your mom like that, she's very sensative. Or at least she is when I get done with her.

Thurmond: That's it. Time for you to fucking die.

This entire time, Craig has been making hand seals. Finally he stops and places his fingers on his temples.

Craig: I very much doubt that, Gyakugan! (Supposedly Reversing Eyes, stupid online translators)

Instantly, Craig's eyes get freaky. The irises darken until almost black and his pupils turn red.

Thurmond: What the fuck is that?

Craig: This is the result in an experiment of mine to create a bloodline limit. I have combined an old jutsu, the Ninjutsu Reversal Technique, with a special form of chakra and focused it into my eyes. If this works out, my line will carry a brand new bloodline limit, which I call the Gyakugan.

Thurmond: That sounds like a shity rip off of the Byakugan and Sharingan.

Craig: To the uneducated perhaps, but it seems like you need a history lesson. Both the Byakugan and the Sharingan are decended from a common ancestor, an old form of the Byakusharingan.This bloodline split when it was utilized for diferent purposes. Thus over the years they grew apart and became what they are today. But my Gyakugan allow me see your chakra as you mold it. So I can see the type of chakra and where you focus it, which gives me a major boost against Ninjustu and Genjutsu.

Thurmond: I’d love for this to go on for all day, but don’t you think that this story has gone on long enough?

Craig: Yeah it has.Thanks for reminding me, you old geezer.

Thurmond: Brat! Eat my Demon Punch!!

Thurmond once again rushes at Craig, his aura flaring up. Craig settles back into a defensice stance and bites his thumb.

Craig (thinking): That demonic chakra is really annoying, he could fight for days without tiring or sustaining much damage. Well, demon chakra is only displaced by spirit chakra. So here we go.

Just as Thurmond’s punch is about to connect, Craig slams his hand into the ground.

Craig: Summoning! Storm Wind Rider!!

A large tornado springs up at Craig’s feet and sends Thurmond spinning into the air. Craig quickly lands and starts making hands seals.

Craig: Water Style: Water Explosion Technique!

Just as Thurmond is about to touch down, a large blast from the vicinity of the river slams into him and sends him flying like a rag doll. As the jutsu ends, Thurmond finds himself pinned leaning heavily against a tree.

Craig: Now fucking die!

Out of nowhere Craig appears brandishing his spear. With a precise spin, the lte Strom Thurmond’s head rolls cleanly from his shoulders.

Craig: Shazam.

Morgan looks at the crater where Heston fell.

Morgan: Oh get up you bastard, and stop being dramatic.

Charlton Heston clambers out of the crater and reaching inside of his jacket, pulls out two submachine guns.

Morgan: What the fuck. Why do you use guns? Yu know that they kill people.

Heston: No. Guns don’t kill people, Apes with guns kill people.

Morgan: That is really fucked up.

Heston: Perhaps. Summing! Damn Dirty Apes!!

Instantly, all around Morgan about a dozen large gorillas appear. They are clothed in tattered mockeries of human vestments.

Morgan: Wait, but there are 13 apes.

Exactly, a dozen apes.

Morgan: Don’t give me that baker’s dozen shit. A dozen is 12. There are 13 apes. 13 is not a fucking dozen.

Yes it is, a baker’s dozen is 13.

Morgan: Whatever.

The very ugly, rude and dull Morgan turns back and faces the apes (Ha! And on this day Craig broke the 4th wall).

Morgan: Never insult the fucking narrator.

Heston: Can we finish this up? The audience is losing patience.

A gorilla sneaks up and grabs Morgan from behind.

Morgan: Get your paws off me you damn dirty ape.

Morgan spins around and breaks the ape’s grip and kicks him in the same movement. Two apes rush Morgan in the hope of using weight of numbers. Morgan dashes towards them and sweeps them. As the apes hit the ground, Morgan does a front flip and axe kicks both apes, causing them to disappear. As several more apes advance, Morgan switches to Gentle Fist, slamming his palms into the apes and causing them to disappear in poofs. Soon only Heston is left. Heston tries to shoot Morgan, but Morgan is too fast. In the blink of an eye Morgan is directly in front of Heston, his hand glowing with chakra.

Morgan: This is for going to Colombine only days after the tragedy there!

With all the force he caan summon, Morgan gentle bitch slaps Charlton Heston. Under normal circumstances, the recipient would merely tweak out and lie unconscious for a while. However Morgan put so much chakra and force into his slap that Heston’s brain literally liquefied. Morgan watches on is grim satisfaction as Charlton Heston gets the end he royally deserves. He dies of seizures at the feet of a liberal with gun firmly clamped in each hand. Morgan looks up to see a bloody Ali and a soaked Craig walking towards him.

Morgan: Hello gents. All done?

Ali: Yeah, I am a richer man from this fight.

Craig: Richer as in a better person?

Ali: Something like that.

Morgan: What about you Craig?

Craig: Well I got a story to focus on me far too much and I had to climb up a freaking waterfall to get back here.

Ali: How about you Morgan? From that content smile, you’ve finally done something that you wanted to do for a long time.

Morgan: Let’s just say, many people are going to be very happy.

Ali: Well where did those other three go?

Craig: Yeah, I wanted to catch up on old times. Maybe hit a few bars.

Morgan: They said it wouldn’t do for cameos to carry on for too many scenes, so they went dome.

Ali: Dome?

Morgan: Typo.

Ali: Ah.

Craig: Well I think it’s time to get a going. Say hi to the Hokage for me Morgan.

Ali: Yeah, say hi to Amanda for us.

Morgan: You just love rubbing that in my face, don’t you?

Craig: In a word, yes.

Craig and Ali fasten on their traveling cloaks and Ali places his Chinese farmer‘s hat on his head..

Morgan: Where the hell are you two going?

Craig: Wherever the wind may take us.

Ali: By popular demand, we shall have an OAV where we journey like our mentors and get into interesting adventures.

Morgan raises his hand and looks around him. The setting sun casts an amber glow upon the forest clearing, creating an atmosphere of warmth.

Morgan: Well perfect time for it. The mood in cinematically perfect.

Craig and Ali: Team Technique: Dramatic Ending and Parting Atmosphere Technique!!!

Suddenly the whind whips up and golden leaves begin to swirl all around. Morgan shields his eyes as Ali and Craig begin to walk down the road. This road, as fate would have it, points due west so that all that can be seen are the silhouettes of Ali and Craig as they walk into the sunset, leaves whiping playfully about.

Morgan: Damn, such a perfect atmosphere for an ending. Damn them, I’ll need to copy that technique someday.

He consults his watch.

Morgan: Oh shit, is that the time? I need to get home and make dinner.

Morgan teleports away. The camera pulls out, slowly revealing the beauty of the setting, the only mar being the extravagant amounts of demon blood spashed about clearing.

Description
Sunlight filters through the many windows of a quiet room. In the center there sits a large desk covered in various documents and odd baubles. The door opens and a tall man walks in. He is dressed in the traditional light green flak jacket of Grass Village, long black pants and a bright blue and red Hawaiian shirt underneath. He settles down into a high backed chair behind the desk and begins to shuffle through various papers. He pushes back his long pony tail and absentmindedly touches a long scar that runs over his right eye.

Craig: I really fucking hate paperwork. If I knew becoming Kage was all paperwork, I would've kept wandering.

An insistent beeping distracts him from the much hated paperwork. He looks around until his gaze settles on a small crystal ball. He sighs and taps the surface of the ball, the image of a dark man in his mid thirties.

Craig: What's up Ali?

Ali: What's up? Why do you think that there's always something up? Couldn't it be possible that I just want to talk to one of my old friends? I am highly insulted, my own friend, not trusting me. I don't know what to think.

Craig just looks at Ali, who grins sheepishly.

Ali: Sorry, living in the desert can make you a little high strung.

Craig: I can understand that. So what's up?

Ali: Have you heard of the mission I had Foster conduct?

Craig: Of course, my spies in Mountain Village are very precise.

Ali: He told you himself, didn't he?

Craig is silent and glares at Ali.

Craig: Silence. So what's up?

Ali: Well I've been tracking the movements of all the old Republicans. Cheney was just the tip of the iceberg. I think they're up to something.

Craig: Like what? I've noticed that they seem to be moving around a lot, but they always have. What makes now any different?

Ali: Now the scale is all different. There are hundreds of Republican-nins moving around. I think that they're up to something.

Craig: And you want me to investigate it?

Ali: In a manner, now listen...

Craig: Fine, I'll order some ANBU out to investigate. Anything else?

Ali: Oh come on, you can't be THAT busy can you?

Craig: Actually, I do have a shit load of work to do.

Ali: You're too busy to go out with an old buddy and kill Republicans? Come on Craig, I know you better than that!

A grin creeps across Craig's face, and Ali answers it with a grin of his own.

Craig: Tell me when and where.

Ali: That's the spirit, I was afraid you'd gone soft on me.

Craig: I can never go soft with your mom always stopping by.

Ali: There's my old teammate. I'll send a trustworthy courtier with all the information as soon as possible.

Craig: Why the rush?

Ali: Well your mom just won't wait any longer. You know the old saying; once you taste Arab, you never go back.

The crystal ball fogged up and the image of Ali disappeared before Craig could respond. He leans back into the chair and stairs off into the distance, a smirk lightly hidden in the corner of his mouth.

Craig: Well I do need a break; I've been working like a dog. Plus, the world would be a better place without all those evil-doers...

Out in the main courtyard of the Grass Village Ninja Academy, a ninja comes into being in a great poof of smoke (ah, poof, great word). A female shinobi in her mid twenties waves the smoke away and strides purposefully towards the administration building. A guard moves to stop her, but she waves a scroll in his face that bears the Wind Country seal. The guard waves her through. Fade to Craig's office where he's conversing in hushed tones to several Jounin. There is a light tapping at the door and it opens revealing another Jounin, and the strange female ninja.

Jounin: Kusakage, a messenger from Hidden Sand country to see you.

Craig examines her and waves the Jounin around him away.

Craig: Show her in, you gentlemen have my orders, notify the proper people.

The others exit, leaving Craig and the female ninja.

Craig: How are you Eleanor-kun? I haven't seen you in years.

Eleanor: Yeah, yeah. Spare it; I'm only doing this 'cause Morgan asked me to.

Craig: You're so polite, as ever. Well then, you're task is done. Say hello to the family for me.

Eleanor: Oh, Dean had a question for you. Are you still beefy?

Craig: Yes Eleanor, I am very beefy. See you in another 10 years.

She teleports away and Craig settles down into his chair, this eyes darting back and forth, scanning the scroll.

Craig: Excellent.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fade to a small rural town. The kind with wooden houses that are hundreds of years old and forests on either side. Off in the distance, a figure can be seen walking up the road, his great gray cloak billowing around him. As he walks into town, another figure appears from the shadows and starts walking beside him. The new figure wears a great black cloak and a broad Chinese farmer's hat.

Craig: You do know that that hat makes it really easy to identify you.

Ali: Yeah I know, but habits are hard to break.

Craig: So is anyone joining us in this little sortie?

Ali: Maybe, I did leave some invitations with some friends of ours. They may show up.

Craig: Awesome, so where are the Republicans?

Ali: Well they've set up their cult in the woods. I figure we'll be there in about 30 minutes. Once there, we'll figure out their plans and strategize the best way for killing Republican-nins.

Craig: Sounds good to me. Anything else?

Ali: Nope, let’s go.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In a clearing deep in the forest, a huge mob of people gather around small campfires. Slightly off to the side, there’s a clear area with a wide circle cut into the ground. Ninjas in business suits sit at odd intervals around the circle. They all seem to be praying, their hands clutched, mumbling strange things. Pan to Craig and Ali who sit in a tree, watching everything that transpires. Ali turns to Craig:

Ali: Well, I think I can easily say that this is one of the oddest things I’ve ever seen.

Craig: Seconded. That’s a summoning circle. What the hell are they doing?

Ali: No idea. But let’s come up with a way of stopping them. Any new abilities of yours I should know about?

Craig: Why would you want to know my abilities?

Ali rolls his eyes at Craig’s thoughtless comment.

Ali: Well how the hell am I supposed to come up with a plan if I don’t know what you can do? You use massive amounts of ninjutsu and open gates still?

Craig: Fine, you pushy bastard. I still know lots of ninjutsu, but I don’t open the gates anymore.

Ali (incredulous): Why? That’s an awesomely good technique.

Craig: Yeah, but it’s almost more trouble than it’s worth. In battle when I open gates, I find those usually hurt me more than the enemy does. Also, I once opened up to the 8th and final gate, and it shredded many of my muscles.

Ali: Ouch, goddamn that sucks.

Craig: Yeah, it took me months of damn rehabilitation. So look at this...

Craig unzips his flak jacket and unbuttons his shirt to show Ali a section of his chest. Over his heart, Craig has an intricate seal.

Ali: What the hell is that?

Craig buttons back up his Hawaiian shirt and zips his flak jacket.

Craig: That, my friend, is a 3 part Dragon seal. I sealed my ability to open past the 3rd gate.

Ali: Well I suppose that’s a good thing. So how’s this for a plan, we go down there, kill as many weak stooges as possible, and 1 on 1 against any strong ninjas. Sound good?

Craig: Yeah, let’s go whoops some ass. Let me just get my ass-whooping weapon. Summoning!

Craig slams his hand onto a neighboring tree branch and a great black case appears. He opens it and extricates a large Baritone Saxophone.

Ali: Wow, going with the heavy artillery I see.

Craig: I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea with the sheer amount of foes we have to overcome.

Ali pulls his trumpet out from under his cloak. His trumpet is different than the one Craig remembers, this trumpet is half silver, half bronze and it gleams beautifully in the sun.

Ali: Well, I'm glad we learned the Metal Animation technique from Dole-sensei a long time ago. It gives us an excuse to keep our instruments with us at all times.

Craig: Shall we?

Ali: Let's. Metal Animation Technique!!

The trumpet in his hand begins to shake and in a flash transforms into a half silver/ half bronze scimitar.

Craig: Metal Animation Technique!!

The baritone sax flashes and in its place Craig wields a large spear.

Craig: I'll see you on the flip side.

With that he teleports away, to a different part of the forest so that when he and Ali attacked, it would cause as much confusion as possible. Ali, having given Craig plenty of time, gathers all of his strength into his legs. With a little wind augmentation, Ali leaps high above the gathered Republicans. He waves his hands around to generate an updraft that will slow his descent and keep him airborne for several more seconds. He makes massive hand sealage ((c) of Foster) as he falls.

Ali: Whirlwind Aura!

As Ali drops to the ground, the wind begins to pick up. The closer to the ground he gets, the stronger the wind whirls in his vicinity. Finally, as Ali touches ground, a full-blown tornado erupts around him, sending Republicans flying willy-nilly. Hidden on the other side of the clearing, Craig chuckles to himself.

Craig: Impatient little git. I don't care what they say about Vikings being the ultimate berserkers, once that Arab gets the scent of battle; there isn't much that can stop him. Oh well, can't let him have all the fun. He'll be counting all his kills and I don't want to fall behind.

Craig concentrates and starts making hand seals.

Craig: Underworld Swamp of the Underworld!!

Much to the surprise of the lounging Republican-nins, the ground beneath them suddenly turns into a purple lake and they sink down to about mid chest. They struggle to free themselves, but the lake has thick mud lining the bottom. Craig jumps out of the tree and gathers chakra in his feet so that he stands on the water. He grins at the immobilized Republicans and idly toys with his spear.

Craig: Now the smart thing to do would be to use a high powered lightning justu and fry you all. But I prefer to let out all my frustration by slicing you all to hell.

Random Republican-nin: Sounds good to us, we're total pricks anyway.

Craig: Shall we get started?

The Republicans all nod. Craig grins and whips his spear around, neatly beheading one Republican. A slightly maniacal laugh escapes his lips as Craig runs at high speed slashing all around him. Flash back to Ali who is also having fun dismembering evil ninja politicians. He stops his onslaught for a second to catch his breath.

Ali (thinking): Damn this aura, I'd forgotten how much of a drain it is on my chakra. I'd best dispel it soon if I want to be able to use any other techniques.

Ali slows and allows a large amount of Republicans to gather just outside the reach of his localized tornado. A single hand seal later and the tornado explodes outward, scattering the Republicans like leaves at a certain Fall Festival in Ashfield.

Ali: Wind Sword Technique!!

A slight breeze picks us and a shimmering translucent blade appears in Ali's left hand that matches the design of his trumpet/scimitar. Ali twirls them around his body to dissuade any adventurous Republicans from attacking.

Ali: Alright bitches, eat this. Zephyr in the Willows Taijutsu!!!

The shimmer of chakra surrounds his body as he falls into a defensive stance, swords pointed down. The Republicans, showing usual intelligence for a mob, cower back and draw kunai.

Ali: What, don't want to attack the man whose name your mothers scream out nightly?

At the mention of their mothers, the Republican-nins forsake strategy and rush Ali. A ninja faster than the rest reaches Ali first and throws the obligatory straight punch. Instead of blocking, Ali drifts out of the way and lazily slices the Republican in half, sending crimson rocketing into the sky.

Ali: Oh come on, you all know you were destined to die; you may as well try and take me with you.

The throng seemingly takes this to heart as they rush Ali. With the grace of a tree in the wind (or a belly dancer) Ali twists and bends out of the way, slicing, dicing and splicing as he goes. Several Republicans, hoping to catch Ali unawares, hurl several shuriken at his exposed back. Ali doesn't even move, yet before the shuriken can touch his flesh, an invisible force blocks them and sends the shuriken skittering off into totally different directions.

Ali: Silly enemies, I shall...

In a blur Ali disappears. The shuriken throwers anxiously search for him, and then cease to be anxious as their heads roll away from their bodies.

Ali: ...send you to Allah.

Switch back to Craig who has dispatched the Republican-nins who were unable to free themselves from the quagmire (Oh yeah!). The rest stand on top of the water, regarding him coolly.

Craig: Do any of you have any preference as to how you die?

Several of them raise their hands. Craig randomly selects one of them.

Republican-nin: I wanted to die in Borneo.

Craig: Then go there. Now. I won’t stop you.

The single Republican waves farewell to his cohorts and walks off into the forest. Craig listens intently for the slightest sound and is rewarded with a twang, a swish and a scream.

Craig: And the stupid prick walks right into the rope trap. I am a heartless bastard sometimes. Who’s next?

Most of the hands drop at this last comment, but one brave soul risks it.

Craig: What?

The ninja walks over and whispers into Craig’s ear. Craig gives him a strange look and takes a half step back.

Craig: You are one kinky whore. Alright, I’m going to need some volunteers for this one.

After several minutes of preparation the Republican is ready to die. As per his request, the man’s head is underwater, his legs cut off at the knee, his stumps set on fire and his stomach tickled with banana palm leaves.

Craig: It takes all sorts I suppose. Okay, no more requests. That last one was just too weird. Fire Style: Fire Dragon Missile!!!!

Catching the Republicans unawares, Craig fries many of them with a large gout of white-hot flame. The rest take to the air to avoid the fire.

Craig: Oh no you don’t. Earth Style: Razor Spike Technique!!

Craig switches this spear to his other hand and slams his palm into the ground. All about him great jagged spikes rise out of the ground. The grins of those in midair freeze on their faces as gravity takes hold and they plummet to a horrible death. Craig winces as his former opponents are chopped into hamburger.

Craig: Well that should be most of them. By my count, I killed 84 Republicans. I wonder how many Ali got.

Craig walks over to the other side of the clearing where Ali is panting slightly and surrounded by a sea of headless bodies. Ali looks up and grins.

Ali: 89 bitches.

Craig: Damn, I owe you some sushi then. I only got 84 of the fuckers. Listen, there’s this great place that just opened in Wave Country, it has the freshest fish you ever.......

The conversation slowly peters out as the sound of clapping punctuates the still air. Two old men in business suits stand off to the side, one of them clapping and standing slightly ahead of the other.

Craig: My God, is that...

Ali: Strom Thurmond and Donald Rumsfeld?

Thurmond: Yes, it is us. And you have come to destroy out carefully laid plans. I suppose you want to know what they are?

Craig: No, not really.

Rumsfeld: Then we’ll tell you. We’ve been sacrificing the souls of decent middle class voters to resurrect our beloved leaders. Then with an invincible army of demon infused Republican heroes, we will be unstoppable.

Ali: You really enjoy the sound of your own voices, don’t you?

Thurmond: And once we have our beloved demon heroes, we shall remake this pathetic universe in the style that the great and almighty Dollar originally wanted.

Craig: For the love of any God, shut up, Shut up, SHUT UP!!!

While Craig and Ali are otherwise totally annoyed, a figure slowly creeps out of the forest and draws a large rifle out of his jacket. Charlton Heston carefully takes aim at Ali’s back.

Heston: Say goodbye, boys.

Voice: Leaf Herculean Spinning Wind!!

A white blur shoots out of the trees and slams into Charlton Heston, sending him flying one way, and the rifle in the other. Craig, Ali, Thurmond and Rumsfeld all turn and face the disturbance. A figure clothed in a white, silk kung fu uniform and green flak jacket stands majestically in the clearing, sunlight filtering down and small fluffy animals frolicking all about him. Charlton Heston spits out a tooth and gazes up at the gleaming figure above him.

Heston: Who the hell are you?

Figure: I am Konoha’s shining, beautiful flower of acceptance...

Morgan: MORGAN KENT!!!

Ali: You’re a fucking flower?

Craig (to Ali): You know he looks pretty flowery.

Morgan: Fuck you guys. Fuck you almost as much as I fucked your dads.

Craig (groaning and whispering to Ali): He still hasn’t given up the dad joke?

Ali (whispering back): Nope, we’ve pretty much given up all hope at this point.

Rumsfeld: Well this certainly is unexpected. Why would two decent White men hang out with a Native American?

Ali's left eye begins to twitch unhealthily as Craig holds him back.

Ali: That money laundering cadaver is mine!!!

Thurmond: We will never let you defeat us.

Heston: God bless the USA!!

Morgan: I don’t think you’re in any position to make assertions. We are 3 very powerful shinobi in our prime. While you....

As Morgan speaks, large red auras begin to surround Thurmond, Heston and Rumsfeld.

Morgan: ...are 3 old men who are infused with demon powers. Shit.

Craig: Prepare for the fight scene.

Morgan: I'm taking Heston, Ben-Hur here ain’t got shit on me.

Ali: And I have Rumsfeld. No one calls me a Native American and lives.

Craig: You’re not Native American?

Ali ignores that comment and launches himself at Rumsfeld. Craig sighs and slowly walks over to Strom Thurmond, who despite his large demonic aura, is so old and frail that it looks like a strong breeze may knock him over. Morgan grins and faces Charlton Heston who glares back at him. Ali sends a flying kick straight at Rumsfeld, who blocks it easily. Ali flips backwards as another Ali suddenly appears behind Rumsfeld and sends him flying. The back flipping Ali disappears in a cloud of smoke as the other performs hand seals. These being completed and Rumsfeld still airborne, Ali makes the Dog hand seal. He appears directly below Rumsfeld and thrusts his hand into the air.

Ali: Wind Style: Rising Wind Dragon Technique!!

Following the direction of Ali’s arm, a translucent shape erupts upward with a great displacement of air. Rumsfeld barely twists out of the way as the dragon of air zooms past.

Morgan: Don’t get too involved in that fight, don’t forget that you are my opponent.

Heston: I haven’t.

Charlton Heston reaches inside his jacket and withdraws two old fashioned revolvers.

Morgan: Shit, damn gun freak. I need to disarm him somehow.

Morgan turns towards Craig.

Morgan: What time is it?

Craig pauses and consults a pocket watch.

Craig: It’s 4:27.

Morgan: It’s Ninjutsu Time.

Morgan makes the hand sealage (once again © of Foster) and slams his hands into the ground.

Morgan: Earth Style: Earth Wall Technique!!!

A large rock wall rises out of the ground as Heston opens fire, the wall taking the brunt of the assault. A few hand seals later, and Morgan disappears in a poof of smoke. Charlton Heston, seeing no resistance, slowly inches around and peeks behind the wall.

Heston: Where the hell is he? To the side? Above? Behind?

Morgan (really muffled): Below!

A set of hands snakes out of the ground and encircles Heston's ankles. Suddenly from behind, Morgan bursts out of the ground and kicks Heston in the back of the head. Charlton Heston swings around to counterattack, but his feet are still being held.

Morgan: Now I'll just take these guns and kick your ass.

Heston: Not likely. From My Cold Dead Hands Technique!!

Morgan tries to wrestle the guns from Charlton Heston's grip, but a mysterious force keeps them firmly locked in his hands.

Craig and Strom Thurmond face each other.

Craig: Are you going to do anything, or am I just going to kill you?

Thurmond: Well kill me if you can! Summoning Technique!

Strom Thurmond bites his thumb and slams his palm into the ground. In a poof, about 30 people of mixed ethnicity appear, all of whom are chained.

Thurmond: Attack my slaves, while I sneak away.

Thurmond bolts into the woods. Craig and the slaves just stare at each other.

Craig: Do you all really want to attack me?

The slaves just stare at him. Craig walks over to them and with one swift strike, severs their chains. The slaves' faces light up in joy.

Slave: Free at last, free at last. Thank God almighty we're free at last! Now we must find Steven Spielberg so that he can make a movie about our travels.

The slaves jump for joy and run away.

Craig: Now I have to chase a decrepit old fool infused with demon powers. What a day.

Craig sighs and runs after Strom Thurmond. Ali and Rumsfeld face off in another part of the clearing.

Rumsfeld: I'm going to kill you like my ancestors killed yours.

Ali: I'm not a Native American you piece of shit!!

Rumsfeld: I know Tonto, I know. Me send you to place in sky. See maker.

Ali just glowers at him.

Ali: I hate you.

Rumsfeld reaches into his wallet and whips out several bills. He throws them into the air and makes some hand seals.

Rumsfeld: Money Shuriken!

The bills instantly straighten out and fly at Ali, their paper thin edges glinting evilly. Ali just waves his hand and the "shuriken" make a sharp U-turn and fly back at Rumsfeld. Rumsfeld barely dodges the "shuriken" by throwing himself to the ground. Ali grins at the dirty politician as Rumsfeld does his best to dust himself off and retain some dignity.

Ali: I have this special bloodline Rummy. And I've spent many years perfecting it to the point that it's almost impossible to him me with a throwing weapon. Now...

Ali hefts his scimitar and strides purposefully at Rumsfeld.

Ali: Let's dance.

Ali makes a dog hand seal and disappears in a flash. Rumsfeld's eyes dart here and there, looking for the windy Arab. He stiffens as a silver and bronze blade flashes out behind him and cleaves Rumsfeld in half. Ali looks with distain at the fallen Republican.

Ali: Oh come on, you have to be stronger than that. Fuck, this is a major disappointment.

As Ali looks away, Rumsfeld's body begins to deflate. Ali watches in surprise as the body of Rumsfeld vanishes and reverts to a large pile of money.

Ali: A Money Clone? Well that's fucked up. Though if I play my cards right during this fight, I could walk away a millionaire...

Ali's musing is interrupted by the pile of money at his feet suddenly springing up and binding his hands and feet. Rumsfeld walks out of his hiding place, one hand outstretched as if he were the one binding Ali.

Rumsfeld: I have you now. Soon you shall join your ancestors in a little place called Oklahoma.

Ali: I really hate you.

Rumsfeld: Be that as it may, DIE!!

Rumsfeld tightens his outstretched hand. Instantly the expensive bonds tighten and Ali groans in pain as the very thin edges slice into his skin.

Ali: So you're just going to hold me here and give me thousands of paper cuts?

Rumsfeld: Yes.

Ali: You totally fucking suck, you realize this right?

Rumsfeld: No, I am awesomely rich and demon possessed, get it right.

Ali just slumps his head, seriously pissed that his opponent sucks so much. Return to Morgan and Charlton Heston, who are still wrestling over the guns in Heston's grip.

Morgan: Fuck, I guess I really will have to pry those guns from your cold dead hands.

Heston: That's the idea.

Morgan: Well it's not too bad. Since both your hands are occupied, you can't do any handseals or hardly any taijutsu. And don't forget, I still have your legs trapped. Looks like I have the advantage-

Morgan stops talking as Heston levels one of the revolvers and shoots him in the head. Morgan collapses backwards like a broken doll. Blood leaks from his head profusely has he lays there, stone dead. With a mighty wrench, Heston breaks the hold of the hands holding his feet which disappear in a poof of smoke.

Heston: Stupid kid, he talked far too much. Well, I don't need these anymore. Release!

Heston tucks the guns back into his jacket and starts walking away. Suddenly the corpse of Morgan engulfs itself in smoke and is suddenly revealed to be...A LOG!! But not just any log, a log with a big smiley face stenciled on it.

Heston: Oh shit.

He feels a sharp pain below his chin and the world suddenly begins to fly past unhealthily. In a flash Morgan appears directly behind Heston.

Morgan: Prepare for an ass kicking, you NRA dick! Byakusharingan!

In midair, Morgan’s freaky eyes activate.

Morgan: Now, Über Lotus!

Morgan slams a gentle fist into the base of Heston’s spine. He then unleashes a Kaiten, catapulting Heston away, and causing Morgan to fall to the ground. In a burst of speed, Morgan intercepts the soaring Heston and smashes him with another gentle fist and Kaiten. Morgan continues this, juggling Heston in midair with gentle fists and Kaitens. Finally Heston begins to near the ground. Morgan grabs Heston from behind and begins to spin them both wildly as they speed toward the ground. Morgan lets go just as Heston slams into the ground with a gigantic explosion of rock and demonic chakra. Morgan kneels off to the side panting.

Morgan: I don’t expect him living through my greatest, most totally original move.

Switch to Craig, who is racing through the forest tracking the progress of Thurmond. He bursts from the forest into a clearing. This clearing, cinematically enough, is a large cliff. Strom Thurmond stands at the edge of the cliff, his arms crossed and his grin radiating aged evil.

Thurmond: I see you defeated my slaves.

Craig: Yes....I sure did.

Thurmond: Well I vary much doubt that you can beat me.

Craig: Well this kinda is my story. So that means me and my friends will not die. You will definitely lose.

Thurmond: Not without an interesting fight scene I won’t!

Craig: Granted. Now go perform your little evil summoning that totally screws us over.

Thurmond: I think I shall. Come forth, Demon Republicans!!!

The earth around the summoning circle begins to shake, bake, and steam. Our current three heroes look up and are amazed at what they see. Rising out of the earth around the summoning circle, hundreds of business suit clothed minor demons begin to rise out of the ground. An unholy growl fills the air as the demon catch sight of Ali and Morgan.

Ali: Oh shit, we are totally screwed over.

Morgan: Yes. We are definitely totally and utterly screwed over. Who the fuck writes this shit?

Ali: Dude, don't insult the writer. He'll turn you into a woman and have you be chased my perverted old men or something equally drastic and disturbing.

Craig's Voice (very quiet and distant): Damn straight! Now read your fucking scripts!

The demons advance menacingly toward Ali and Morgan. Suddenly a great rumbling echoes through the forest. All heads turn towards the foliage where birds fly and trees quake. Suddenly a great gray shape barrels out of the forest and skids to a stop, leaving twin furrows of dirt in the ground. As the dust settles, a deafening bellow shatters the quiet. Three shapes can be seen in a large pagoda on top of the Elephant (the supsence is killing me).

Figure 1: Beware, oh compatriots of evil...

Figure 2: For we are the harbingers of thy doom...

Figure 3: And stuff!!

Figures: We are...

The dust finally settles to reveal...

Nick, Foster and Luke: The Triumvirate!!!

The minor demons just stare at the odd trio doing the legendary Triple Nice Guy Pose. Crickets chirp and silence reigns supreme.

Ali: You're late.

Nick: Late, or hella early?

Morgan: Really fucking late.

Luke: Well maybe we shouldn't have come at all. Let's go Emu.

The giant elephant makes a slow turn and begins to head back into the forest.

Ali: Get back here you bastards.

Foster: That's exactly what your mom said last night.

Emu suddenly accelerates and stomps into a large group of demons, crushing them left and right. Nick and Foster jump off Emu and start wailing on the demons. Luke continues to steer Emu and rampage around. Ten demons surround Nick in an attempt to overcome him. In a flourish, Nick removes his kingly cape and swirls it around him. Out from the cape, many monkeys appear and begin battling with demon. Foster, who is also beset by demons, makes a hand seal and extends his arms. Snakes shoot out from his sleeves and impale themselves through the chests of demony demons (Have I said demon enough?). Using strength born of biomanipulation, Foster starts spinning around, dragging the demons with him and becoming a maelstrom of demonic death.

Luke: We'll clean up this little mess. You boys go back to your battles.

Morgan: Thanks fatass, we owe you one.

Craig: Ha Mr. Thurmond, it seems your evil summoning has been defeated by my convenient plot device.

Thurmond: Damn you. You shall never win. Flame of Freedom Technique!

Suddenly a large blast of flame in the shape of a flag erupts from Thurmond's mouth. Craig quickly dives to the side and when he looks up, Thurmond has disappeared without a trace.

Craig: Shit. Well, thank Yama for summons.

Craig runs his thumb along the blade of his spear spilling some blood and slams it into the ground. A small dog in a Leaf village vest and forehead protector peers out at him out of the smoke.

Craig: No time for pleasentries Pakkun. We're hunting Strom Thurmond.

Pakkun: Again?

Craig: No, no. That last time was Ashcroft. This is someone else.

Pakkun: Well, my mistake, all old rich white dudes smell the same.

Pakkun gets up and starts sniffing around. He walks up to the edge of the cliff and stops.

Pakkun: He jumped off the cliff.

Craig: Shit. Seeing that I don't have demonic powers, thus could prove tricky for me. Any suggestions Pakkun?

Pakkun: Well I can smell running water close by. So there's probably a waterfall.

Craig: Thanks Pakkun, you rule. You can go back to the wife and family now.

Pakkun waves his paw as he disappears. Craig hefts his spear with a sigh and runs off in the direction of the waterfall. The sight that greets him is truly breathtaking. The waterfall cascades in multicolored torents. Craig pauses slightly to remove his flak jacket and Hawaiian shirt. He rummages through the shirt, removes several kunai, shuriken, and bandages and slips them into various holsters atrapped to his legs. He then puts the flak jacket back on and fastens it tight. Now being suitably girded for battle, he makes a running dive off the cliff and disappears into the mist generated by the waterfall. Switch to Ali who is still caught in Rumsfeld's Money Bind Technique.

Ali: I totally forgot that I was trapped. I suppose I should do something about that...

Rumsfeld: There is nothing you can do. Nothing is stronger than the dollar!

Ali: What about the Euro? I heard that begause of Europe's stronger economy, the euro-dollar exchange rate is currently very much in favor of the euro.

Rumsfeld starts to shake in rage. Ali just grins at the elderly man as he allows his advanced bloodline to go to work. Through subtle air current manipulation, he forms a strong updraft around him. Ali gathers his strength and prepares to leap.

Rumsfeld: You will die horribly for that!

Ali: I doubt it.

Ali leaps as hard as he can. The extra pull from the updraft quickly accelerates him and soon his momentum to too much for the flimsy money and Ali is free. Ali lands with a grin and starts running at Rumsfeld.

Rumsfeld: So what if you broke the hold of my money. I still have demon powers.

Rumsfeld counters Ali's foreward charge by also charging, except far faster. Right as they're about to collide, Rumsfeld throws a very unexpected punch. However Ali did expect it and he duck beneath it and extends his leg in a vicious side kick aimed at Rumsfeld's stomach. However Rumsfled's demon inhanced reflexes same his stomach but having him dodge ever so slightly upward. Not far enough upward as Ali's foot forcably contacts Rumsfeld's groin. However (twists within twists in this story) instead of hitting something of substance, Ali hears a click and his foot just keeps going.

Ali: Fucking inertia...

Ali slides underneath Rumsfeld, who in turn goes flying over Ali. Both collapse opposite of each other. A pair of silver ball bearings roll out of Rumsfeld’s pant legs.

Ali: Well will you look at that, a pair of balls.

Rumsfeld: Oh God, MY BALLS!!!

Ali: I just de-balled him. Sweet. Well, now is better than never to end this.

Ali staggers to his feet and starts making hand seals. He stops and extends one arm downward with the other holding his wrist.

Ali: Wind Style: A Thousand Slicing Winds!

A heavy wind picks up around Ali. The extended hand seems to shimmer as a distortion appears around it. Rumsfeld staggers to his feet in time to see Ali begin to charge straight at him.

Rumsfeld: Stupid Cherokee. He can’t beat my demon-enhanced speed.

Rumsfeld suddenly starts and spits a gob of blood out of his mouth. He looks at Ali charging at him and then noticed something strange. The Ali charging at him seems to be able to step through obstacles in his way. Then the pain catches up with him, a great searing pain in his back, in about the exact middle of his spine. Blood begins to leak profusely from Rumsfeld’s mouth as he haltingly turns his head to look at Ali, who stands directly behind Rumsfled with his hand inside Rumsfeld’s torso.

Rumsfeld: You used a fucking clone.

Ali: I did indeed. And now watch the best part of this technique...

Ali closes his eyes and concentrates while making one handed hand seals. Rumsfeld’s eyes get really wide as he feels the pressure building within him. Suddenly, and with much applause from those reading this, Rumsfeld’s chest explodes outwards in an explosion of blood and gore that would make ILM proud. Ali withdraws his bloody hand as Rumsfeld collapses lifeless to the ground. Ali reaches down and withdraws a wallet from Rumsfeld’s pocket.

Ali: Finders, keepers...

Switch to Craig who climbs out of a river, about 100 meters downriver of the waterfall. Lacking a towel, he shakes like a dog.

Thurmond: Well, it seems you found me again.

Craig: You know, this fight could have been done a long time ago if you hadn’t kept running away like some sort of damn old pussy.

Thurmond: Thems fightin’ words!

Craig: No, these are; bring it on you old flaming transexual.

Thurmond: Gah!! Demon Punch!!

Thurmond's red aura flares up as he rushes at Craig. He lets out an explosive punch, but Craig isn't there. Having finally learned over the years that frontal charges hardly ever work and that it hurts like hell to be hit by demons, Craig jumps over Thurmond and lands behind him. Thirmond spins arounf in time to see Craig finishing a series of hand seals.

Craig: Water Prison!

Water from the nearby river flies us and traps Thurmond in an inpenetrable bubble.

Craig: Caught ya you little piece of shit.

Thurmond: Yeah, so what are you going to do now?

Craig: This...

Craig starts to spin around. He starts slowly and gains momentum. Just as he reaches the point where the world flies by...

Craig: Release! (Kai!)

A very soggy Strom Thurmond suddenly finds himself flying through the air. He looks wildly around but a rather large and solid looking sycamore tree blocks his few. Craig quickly diverts his view as a resounding crunch anounces to the world that Strom Thurmond has found nature.

Craig: Well, he's most likely dead. The only thing that could survive that would be...

A sudden flare of chakra erupts from Thurmond as he staggers to his feet.

Craig: ...a demon. Crap, I always forget about that. It looks like I'll have to use THAT technique...

Thurmond: My god, does that hurt like a bitch.

Craig: You shouldn't insult your mom like that, she's very sensative. Or at least she is when I get done with her.

Thurmond: That's it. Time for you to fucking die.

This entire time, Craig has been making hand seals. Finally he stops and places his fingers on his temples.

Craig: I very much doubt that, Gyakugan! (Supposedly Reversing Eyes, stupid online translators)

Instantly, Craig's eyes get freaky. The irises darken until almost black and his pupils turn red.

Thurmond: What the fuck is that?

Craig: This is the result in an experiment of mine to create a bloodline limit. I have combined an old jutsu, the Ninjutsu Reversal Technique, with a special form of chakra and focused it into my eyes. If this works out, my line will carry a brand new bloodline limit, which I call the Gyakugan.

Thurmond: That sounds like a shity rip off of the Byakugan and Sharingan.

Craig: To the uneducated perhaps, but it seems like you need a history lesson. Both the Byakugan and the Sharingan are decended from a common ancestor, an old form of the Byakusharingan.This bloodline split when it was utilized for diferent purposes. Thus over the years they grew apart and became what they are today. But my Gyakugan allow me see your chakra as you mold it. So I can see the type of chakra and where you focus it, which gives me a major boost against Ninjustu and Genjutsu.

Thurmond: I’d love for this to go on for all day, but don’t you think that this story has gone on long enough?

Craig: Yeah it has.Thanks for reminding me, you old geezer.

Thurmond: Brat! Eat my Demon Punch!!

Thurmond once again rushes at Craig, his aura flaring up. Craig settles back into a defensice stance and bites his thumb.

Craig (thinking): That demonic chakra is really annoying, he could fight for days without tiring or sustaining much damage. Well, demon chakra is only displaced by spirit chakra. So here we go.

Just as Thurmond’s punch is about to connect, Craig slams his hand into the ground.

Craig: Summoning! Storm Wind Rider!!

A large tornado springs up at Craig’s feet and sends Thurmond spinning into the air. Craig quickly lands and starts making hands seals.

Craig: Water Style: Water Explosion Technique!

Just as Thurmond is about to touch down, a large blast from the vicinity of the river slams into him and sends him flying like a rag doll. As the jutsu ends, Thurmond finds himself pinned leaning heavily against a tree.

Craig: Now fucking die!

Out of nowhere Craig appears brandishing his spear. With a precise spin, the lte Strom Thurmond’s head rolls cleanly from his shoulders.

Craig: Shazam.

Morgan looks at the crater where Heston fell.

Morgan: Oh get up you bastard, and stop being dramatic.

Charlton Heston clambers out of the crater and reaching inside of his jacket, pulls out two submachine guns.

Morgan: What the fuck. Why do you use guns? Yu know that they kill people.

Heston: No. Guns don’t kill people, Apes with guns kill people.

Morgan: That is really fucked up.

Heston: Perhaps. Summing! Damn Dirty Apes!!

Instantly, all around Morgan about a dozen large gorillas appear. They are clothed in tattered mockeries of human vestments.

Morgan: Wait, but there are 13 apes.

Exactly, a dozen apes.

Morgan: Don’t give me that baker’s dozen shit. A dozen is 12. There are 13 apes. 13 is not a fucking dozen.

Yes it is, a baker’s dozen is 13.

Morgan: Whatever.

The very ugly, rude and dull Morgan turns back and faces the apes (Ha! And on this day Craig broke the 4th wall).

Morgan: Never insult the fucking narrator.

Heston: Can we finish this up? The audience is losing patience.

A gorilla sneaks up and grabs Morgan from behind.

Morgan: Get your paws off me you damn dirty ape.

Morgan spins around and breaks the ape’s grip and kicks him in the same movement. Two apes rush Morgan in the hope of using weight of numbers. Morgan dashes towards them and sweeps them. As the apes hit the ground, Morgan does a front flip and axe kicks both apes, causing them to disappear. As several more apes advance, Morgan switches to Gentle Fist, slamming his palms into the apes and causing them to disappear in poofs. Soon only Heston is left. Heston tries to shoot Morgan, but Morgan is too fast. In the blink of an eye Morgan is directly in front of Heston, his hand glowing with chakra.

Morgan: This is for going to Colombine only days after the tragedy there!

With all the force he caan summon, Morgan gentle bitch slaps Charlton Heston. Under normal circumstances, the recipient would merely tweak out and lie unconscious for a while. However Morgan put so much chakra and force into his slap that Heston’s brain literally liquefied. Morgan watches on is grim satisfaction as Charlton Heston gets the end he royally deserves. He dies of seizures at the feet of a liberal with gun firmly clamped in each hand. Morgan looks up to see a bloody Ali and a soaked Craig walking towards him.

Morgan: Hello gents. All done?

Ali: Yeah, I am a richer man from this fight.

Craig: Richer as in a better person?

Ali: Something like that.

Morgan: What about you Craig?

Craig: Well I got a story to focus on me far too much and I had to climb up a freaking waterfall to get back here.

Ali: How about you Morgan? From that content smile, you’ve finally done something that you wanted to do for a long time.

Morgan: Let’s just say, many people are going to be very happy.

Ali: Well where did those other three go?

Craig: Yeah, I wanted to catch up on old times. Maybe hit a few bars.

Morgan: They said it wouldn’t do for cameos to carry on for too many scenes, so they went dome.

Ali: Dome?

Morgan: Typo.

Ali: Ah.

Craig: Well I think it’s time to get a going. Say hi to the Hokage for me Morgan.

Ali: Yeah, say hi to Amanda for us.

Morgan: You just love rubbing that in my face, don’t you?

Craig: In a word, yes.

Craig and Ali fasten on their traveling cloaks and Ali places his Chinese farmer‘s hat on his head..

Morgan: Where the hell are you two going?

Craig: Wherever the wind may take us.

Ali: By popular demand, we shall have an OAV where we journey like our mentors and get into interesting adventures.

Morgan raises his hand and looks around him. The setting sun casts an amber glow upon the forest clearing, creating an atmosphere of warmth.

Morgan: Well perfect time for it. The mood in cinematically perfect.

Craig and Ali: Team Technique: Dramatic Ending and Parting Atmosphere Technique!!!

Suddenly the whind whips up and golden leaves begin to swirl all around. Morgan shields his eyes as Ali and Craig begin to walk down the road. This road, as fate would have it, points due west so that all that can be seen are the silhouettes of Ali and Craig as they walk into the sunset, leaves whiping playfully about.

Morgan: Damn, such a perfect atmosphere for an ending. Damn them, I’ll need to copy that technique someday.

He consults his watch.

Morgan: Oh shit, is that the time? I need to get home and make dinner.

Morgan teleports away. The camera pulls out, slowly revealing the beauty of the setting, the only mar being the extravagant amounts of demon blood spashed about clearing.