Obama’s Kingdom: Folly in the Land of Foo, CH. 2 [satire]

Chapter Two, the King Who Wasn’t There

[An important note: chapter two plays off of a cast of characters and events that were introduced in chapter one – thus, chapter one should be required reading before being subjected to chapter two]

If you need to read chapter one first, here’s a link to chapter one.

Witch Sarah of Wasilla Helps Out

Sarah of Wasilla was sympathetic to the people of Foo. She’d been following A’mabo’s actions in the New Yore Times since he was inaugurated coronated, and knew how badly his reign was going. She wasn’t surprised that a grassroots faction in Foo had asked for her help. At the behest of Foo’s emissaries (Counts Larry, Moe, and Curly) sent by the PEA Party (Peasants Expressing Angst), she agreed to use her considerable talents as a good witch to help the people of Foo.

She would use two spells: the first one was the “Obamus Disolvus” spell, taken directly from the popular Good Hexkeeping Cookbook.

Originally conceived by the acclaimed wizard, Harry the Dirty of Eastwood, the spell made the recipient invisible whenever he sat down. His body was still there, it just disappeared from view, leaving the chair to appear unoccupied.

A secondary characteristic of the spell was that even though his body could not be seen, a really foul odor surrounded him while he was in the invisible state. In other words, you couldn’t see him, but you sure could smell him.

Foo’s emissaries, Larry, Moe, and Curly were all disappointed when Sarah described the spell and they complained to Sarah that A’mabo deserved much worse than just appearing to disappear. “Not to worry,” Sarah smiled, “there is more mischief in this spell than you think.You betcha.”

She would cast the second spell a day or two later, to catch the king in his most vulnerable state. Already weakened by the first bewitchment, his psyche would be soft and relaxed and thus, easily penetrated. She didn’t describe the second spell to the emissaries, she wanted it to be a complete surprise and she especially wanted to catch the king’s protector and her arch enemy Ratbastard of Soros completely off guard.

She smiled when she thought of her second spell, the “Husseinus’ Pluganus” bewitchment. It was from a collection of spells by the Grand Dame of witchery, Martha of Stewartstown.

A trademark of Martha of Stewartstown’s spells, and what made them unique, were the ordinary and mundane ingredients she used, like baubles and beads, ribbons and string, trifles and trinkets. Those ingredients contributed to an iconic style of witchcraft; spells that caused all sorts of nasty and undesirable calamities and misfortunes, but did so with a colorful festive spirit.

In fact, she could hardly keep from giggling when she wondered how long King A’mabo would maintain a “festive” spirit when he felt the … oops, don’t give it away yet … he would feel its effects soon enough (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

Later, just before midnight, Sarah made her way to a secluded secret cave and fired up herGeorge Foreman non-stick cauldron. After preparing a basic witches’ roux, she began to dance. She began slowly, gyrating and swaying round and round the great pot, then gradually moving faster and faster, whirling and undulating, bumping and grinding, all the while circling the cauldron, pausing only to stir or add an ingredient.

Though Sarah felt constrained by her long black robe and longed to throw it off, she had given up the witch’s tradition of dancing naked while spell-brewing ever since some embarrassing images of her showed up on the Witchy-net. Her undraped images went viral and were seen by scores of warlocks (and some witches) eager to ogle her witchy charms au natural.

Round and round the cauldron Sarah whirled and gyrated, all the while chanting the Disolvusincantation,

  • “Trouble, trouble, stink and stubble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,
  • Venom of a poison snake, in the cauldron boil and bake,
  • Scale of dragon, knee of worm, in the cauldron boil and burn,
  • Oil of nightshade, tail of shrew, in the cauldron boil and brew,
  • Cast a spell of kingly trouble in the cauldron, boil and bubble,
  • Into the king the hex invades, so as he sits, his body fades.”

Sarah dropped the last special ingredient into the cauldron. Then, more feverish cavorting as her antics built to a sweaty crescendo. Sarah finally collapsed, nearly exhausted, on the cave floor and uttered the final incantation that activated the spell:

  • The spell is cast, the deed is done, the king is hexed, nowhere to run.

The Obamus Spell Appears … and the King Disappears

At that very instant, an ominous dark cloud appeared over A’mabo’s castle. Silently, thin rivulets of the Obamus Disolvus entity descended from the cloud. Like wispy fingers of fog, they swirled down and entered the castle. The vaporous energy flowed through the halls and doorways until it found the King and engulfed his body, entering through every orifice.

He shook violently as if from an icy chill as the sorcery spread throughout his frail, tan torso.

From that moment, King A’mabo became invisible whenever he sat down.

No matter where he sat, whether on his throne, on his Barack-o-lounger, or in a chair at hisCouncil of Really Crucial Crap meetings, he disappeared.

There seemed to be a demarcation line at about 45 degrees below which the king’s parts just … sort of … went away. Moving from a standing position to a seated one slowly, one could watch parts of him just … evaporate into thin air … as he lowered his body.

All who witnessed the transformation were aghast. What manner of sorcery could this be? It was an eerie spectacle, and onlookers began to talk of him being possessed by evil spirits – spirits even eviler than his usual evilness.

But the mischief was just starting ...

Later that morning Queen Meshall felt an urgent call of nature. She hurried to the Royal Privy and burst in while A’mabo was sitting there on the oaken throne, engrossed in mid-poop. She didn’t see him, so she plopped her ample backside down and promptly peed all over him before he could push her off.

Score two points for the spell, A’mabo was both pissed on and pissed off.

Later, still steaming (both figuratively and literally), the king summoned his BFF and Czar of Evil Wizardry, Ratbastard of Soros. A’mabo was convinced that some disgruntled PEA Partier or Hillary of Clinton (the official White Castle willie washer) had hired a witch or warlock to put a magic whammy on him.

When A’mabo related the story of his disappearing torso, Ratbastard quickly recognized the spell as being the work of Harry the Dirty from his popular “Make My Day” collection.

The elder wizard became famous when he entertained townspeople by carrying on a conversation with an empty chair at the Foopublican Convention. Of course, the chair wasn’treally empty, an accomplice (an out-of-work Kenyan pickpocket), was actually seated in the chair. Audiences delighted at the raunchy responses seeming to come from the “empty” chair.

Ratbastard comforted the king by telling him that he had a spell-check app that would reverse the effects of the invisibility spell. He explained that it would take some time to gather the ingredients for the reversing spell so A’mabo would have to curtail his normal “work” schedule.

He’d have to cancel his twice-a-week golf outings, thrice-a-week celebrity schmoozes and weekly vacations since he would be expected to sit at some time during those activities. Instead of his usual “work” schedule, he might choose to attend a security briefing or meet with his advisors about some meaningless subject, like jobs or the economy, or some other similar drivel. And alas, he’d have to forego his beer summits and bracket picks for the coming March Madness, but thankfully, this real work was only temporary.

Ratbastard suggested that A’mabo find a place where he could sit unseen and listen in on conversations secretly. He might even overhear some talk indicating who was responsible for the evil sorcery.

To help the king remain unseen (and un-smelled), he gave the king a bunch of tree-shaped air fresheners to hang about his body, hoping that the strong pine scent could mask the rotten flatulence smell that surrounded A’mabo when he was in stealth mode.

Armageddon in the Great Hall

Following the wizard’s suggestion, A’mabo was sitting quietly in the Great Hall when a group of jugglers came in to practice. He decided to remain seated and since he couldn’t be seen, secretly observe them up close.

He was doing fine until a juggler using live animals missed catching a porcupine which promptly fell and impaled itself in the king’s crotch.

The prickly2 accident drew a long, high-pitched wail from the invisible king that startled the juggler and caused him to drop a honey badger into the same groinal area, right on top of the porcupine … and angry animal mayhem ensued.

The two animals proceeded to claw and scratch the king’s “equipment” into ground A’maburger (ohhh, the humanity). Damn shame he’d forgotten to wear his Kevlar® codpiece or his cup.

GOOOAAAALLLLL! Score another three points (albeit very small ones) for the spell.

Now, in addition to having been mauled by the clawing animals, the king was livid at the thought that someone had bested him – had put him in this position of weakness. He couldn’t conceive of anyone getting the better of him. His giant-sized ego refused to accept that anyonecould best the king at anything – he was A’mabo the Great (although history may remember him as A’mabo the Lesser after the animal Armageddon in the Great Hall incident).

He must find out who was responsible for the invisibility outrage and whack off a few of the traitor’s favorite appendages. The traitor would pay dearly.

Sarah’s Hex Strikes Again 

On the third day, A’mabo arose and soon learned that Sarah’s witchery had not yet finished with him.

Overnight, the hex transformed him into someone else. It bleached A’mabo’s skin, turning it from a stylish café au lait-colored tan to a cardboard-colored light gray. His nose became deformed and looked artificial as if molded by a drunken potter. His right palm was covered with hair, forcing him to wear a single white glove (he chose a sequined one). His eyes became ultra-sensitive to light, requiring that he wear dark glasses, and to top it off, he’d even need a fedora to cover his head, now sporting a male-pattern baldness.

He was quite a sight, especially when he began to walk funny, appearing to walk backwards while actually moving forward (it came to be known as “choom-walking”).

While he had never been a handsome dude, this new incarnation was downright scary – he looked like a skinny, gray zombie. He scared himself when he first saw the “new” A’mabo in a reflection. He looked so foppish, he just knew that all who saw him in this state would deem him to be the “King of Fop.

He was screwed. While he was standing, he looked like a clown – a skinny, gray clown and when he sat down he became the king who wasn’t there.

Why was this happening to him?

For the first time in his life, he began to question himself. Was this karma? Were his chickens coming home to roost? Why did he have a strong urge to dangle his daughters, Princesses Uh-huh and Nuh-uh out of a castle window?

Sarah strikes again … another six points … (seven with the point after) Sarah – 12, A’mabo – 0!

Ratbastard Goes to Work

After he left the king, Ratbastard admitted to himself that he was secretly troubled about A’mabo’s spell. He knew that Harry the Dirty’s sorcery was powerful and a question kept flooding through his mind, over and over, he couldn’t shake it … “Do you feel lucky, punk? Do you?

Over and over the “feel lucky, punk?” question overwhelmed his senses, and though Ratbastard was a great wizard in his own right, he feared Harry the Dirty and didn’t want to “make his day.” He’d have to avoid Harry’s sorcery any which way he could to avoid a nastysudden impact.

He searched through the Yellow Scrolls to find an all-night apothecary, one that carriedGingrichatol (a generic Eye of Newt). Then he’d have to obtain a dozen hairy warts and a six-pack of fresh mucus. The warts would be easily obtained at Pelosi’s Wart World (freshly harvested from her hairy chest) and a brief stop at Neiman Mucus would yield a carton of the slimy stuff.

Finally, he’d need an inflatable sex doll made in the likeness of Roseanne of Barr (her bushy moustache and curly back hair would suffice for the required “wool of bat”). But the doll would be hard to find since the maker had stopped production.

The inflatable sex doll had been a failure. As soon as prospective buyers recognized the doll as Roseanne of Barr, they refused to put their mouth anywhere on it regardless of where he placed the blow up valve.

Finally, Ratbastard found a Roseanne doll at a pre-owned sex doll shop. As one would expect, it was pristine, since none of the Roseanne dolls were ever used for their (gag) intended purpose.

Now, he needed to familiarize himself with the details of Harry’s spell before he could conjure an anti-spell to reverse it.

Martha of Stewartstown’s Recipe for Festivities

Following Sarah’s directions and right on time, a manifestation of the second spell appeared over A’mabo’s castle. This one appeared as a wondrous, multi-hued rainbow … but … there was something unusual about the rainbow. The curving bands of color were bright and cheery, but there were sinister skull and crossbones images interspersed like watermarks throughout the colorful arch.

The display of mixed signals was a characteristic of every Martha of Stewartstown’s spell. The initial impression was to instill happy and festive feelings in the spell’s victim (moments before the unspeakable calamities and misfortunes befell him). Martha liked to think of the duality as being like “sugar and spice” components tied up in the same package.

This time, sheer smoke-like wisps descended from the rainbow. The energy that was “Husseinus Pluganus” swirled down into the castle and searched until it found the king.

This time, A’mabo saw it coming and his blood ran cold; “not again” he thought, and tried to evade the vaporous entity. But escape was impossible. The powerful witchery immobilized him, bent him over, parted his buttocks, and entered.

Her witchly intuition notified Sarah when the spell had gained entry. She smiled when she envisioned the “Husseinus Pluganus witchcraft doing its thing. In fact, she could hardly keep from giggling when she wondered how long King A’mabo could maintain a “festive” spirit when he felt the Husseinus conqueror-worm suppository burrowing its way deeper and deeper into his innards.

When firmly imbedded, the device would stop, leaving the king with a sensation of fullness, but otherwise normal. The fullness sensation would increase and intensify hour by hour as the blockage held firm and his internal bodily functions continued. Soon he would be backed-upinside, cramping and ready to burst.

When his intestinal pressures reached their limit, the suppository would instantaneously relax its grip and a sudden explosive release would forcefully expel everything resident in the king’s colon out at supersonic speed resulting in a rocket-like thrust.

Sarah estimated that after liftoff, A’mabo would reach an altitude of 5-6 meters at his apogee, maybe more.

It would have been a thoroughly disgusting sight – except for the colored sparkles that appeared in the blast. Red, green, and yellow bursts, popping and sparkling (like a fireworks celebration).

The colorful display represented the “cheerful little extra” that Martha’s spells always contained – that extra touch of frivolity she added to the otherwise serious matter of witchcraft-induced constipation, forceful expulsion, and rapid propulsion.

Notwithstanding the fireworks, the nasty fallout would not endear A’mabo to anyone within the blast zone following his explosive launch. All would be covered with the king’s foul matter, proof positive that the king had been “full of it,” as long suspected by those who knew him.

At this point, one might be tempted to feel sorry for the king, but do not forget dear reader, all of the tribulations that he has visited upon the citizens of Foo. He had it coming (and going).

… Dissolve to Ratbastard’s laboratory …

Now that Ratbastard had the necessary ingredients for his sorcery, he hired a blind professional soup-cooler to blow up the doll. The blower huffed and puffed and blew until the doll expanded to the size of a water buffalo (about right for Roseanne). Ratbastard finally stopped him and plugged the valve.

He noticed that the doll (made in China) was not exactly anatomically correct, having one ponderous, sagging breast and seven toes on one foot and four on the other??? And …it appeared to have three testicles!

But then … maybe for Roseanne that was correct???

He dried the fresh warts and ground them up. He mixed them into the mucus, along with hair and nail clippings taken from King A’mabo. The repugnant elixir would tie the repugnantRoseanne doll to the repugnant king – the sorcery would be a hat-trick of repugnancy.

Next, he had to paint the Roseanne doll with the mucus mixture. He was worried about going blind if he actually had to look directly at the doll for more than a few seconds at a time. Don’t laugh … looking directly at Roseanne of Barr is like looking into a demon’s eyes, it can cause ocular distress, even blindness … it had already stopped both of the wizard’s hourglasses.

So he’d glance – paint, glance – paint, each time shading his eyes, until he finally had it covered head-to-toe with the slimy mixture. He would then let it dry and form a crust; a crust that would retain its shape when he deflated the doll inside.

An hour later, Ratbastard was standing over a thin-shelled representation of Roseanne of Barr. It was a grotesque sight; a rotund mass of dried mucus with limbs outstretched, looking like bloated raisin gingerbread man/person, not exactly an inviting picture – no wonder it failed as a sex doll.

It was time.

Ratbastard donned his trendy Members Only ritual robe and his pointy sorcerer hat. He warmed up with some sit-ups and jogged in-place before his deep-breathing exercises (gotta stay in shape, wizarding is hard work). When his heart-rate was just right, he began to chant:

  • “Tostados Amabos al dente calamitus
  • Vaminos obamas nefarious resultimus
  • Alottus refritos emitus malgasimus
  • Horrendous al skankus removus au jus
  • Roseannus roseannus dannus.”

Once the incantations had been repeated three times, Ratbastard completed the “over and out” portion of the reversal incantation, “Klaatu barada niktu.”

He made the customary offerings to the earth, wind, and fire, and took a hefty swing with his new graphite Acme battle axe, destroying the dried mucus manikin.

The spells were broken.

Finally, the king would be rid of that pesky invisibility hex, his King of Fop appearance, and would consider trading his kingdom for a dollop of “Preparation A” applied to his sore rear end.

Surprise! Surprise! The spell is broken

The king was unaware that the spells which had made his life a living hell had been broken, so he was caught by surprise while wanking working away on a stimulus program (self-stimulation was, next to golf and crashing the economy, his favorite hobby).

He was sitting down, invisible, and busily exercising his hobby, when he suddenly became visible. Had he not been in the Ladies privy, he might have gotten away with it, but the five women present when he suddenly appeared found much to laugh about – much to the embarrassment of the king. They kept pointing to “it” and giggling about his “petite” thing.

Shortly after leaving the privy, he ran into Lord Kramer who had already heard of the king’s “activity.” “I’m never doing that again,” swore the king.

Never?”

Wanna bet” asked Lord Kramer.

The king was adamant, “I am the king of my castle, the master of my domain.”

Right … we’ll see …

To be continued …

Don’t miss the next exciting episode of “Folly in the Land of Foo,” when we’ll find the answer to the burning question: ????????

(gonna play hell finding an answer to THAT burning question, ain’tcha).

~~~

And one final thing … REMEMBER BENGHAZI! … we can’t allow what happened there to be swept under the administration’s rug.

~ G92

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