Obama strode into Cruz's office, katana in his hand. Cruz stood at the window, looking out at the chaos outside, sipping from a whiskey bottle.
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"Cruz!" snapped Obama. "It's not too late to save the country!"
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"It was too late for you in 1812. You'd think burning the White House once was warning enough. The country is
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saved, Mr. President," Cruz said. Cruz raised the bottle to his lips. "The forces of liberation crossed the border an hour ago."
"What? Forces of liberation? What are you talking about?" Obama noticed an odd, sweet smell in the air.
"Aboot. Aboot. Yes." Cruz turned away from the window. "The greatest, most powerful nation on earth... shut down and insolvent. Your border guards unpaid. The national guard and reserves in your northern states furloughed... and outside. Chaos. Destruction. From within. All according to plan." Cruz put the whiskey bottle on his desk and picked up a hockey stick.
Obama moved to the guard position with his Katana. "That's not whiskey, is it, Cruz?"
"No. Maple syrup. The only way my kind can survive off of the soil of our homeland. Decades of preparation. Pretending to be a conservative. Denying my true heritage."
"All along, our destruction your only goal."
Cruz was wrapping his hockey stick with grip tape. "Not your destruction. Your salvation."
The sounds outside changed. The screaming swelled. Obama looked outside the window. The sky darkened as hordes of Canadian Geese blotted out the sun. As far as the eye could see, moose swarmed the streets of DC, each moose with a red-jacketed Mountie on the back.
Cruz nodded. "Yes. I have smashed capitalism and destroyed the United States. Now, Canada will come and lead to you a glorious socialist future. Only once you have lost everything are you free to become anything. This is the end. The end, and the beginning."
Obama turned and ran. Biden was outside waiting with the Trans Am. They had to escape.
stolen from Facebook
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