Story:MMEDDP Chapter 1
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Introduction: Sapphire[edit]
The Mega Mega Extreme Doki Doki Panik Party Debutes!
Started By: Vorpal
Contributed By: Ditto McCloaker, Sapphire, Sgt. Flutter, Yoshiman and Mr. Predict, Masamune, and other random people from the On-Going Storyboard on VGF forums.
Disclaimer: We do not own the Democratic Party, We do not own the Republican Party, or any other Party for that matter, not even the Party-Goers parties. ^.^()
Starring:
(The writers)
…Vorpal! Who, after his failed "Team Missile", decided to run for president with perhaps the wackiest characters yet!
…Ditto! Joined up with Vorpal to be his vice-presidential running mate and will prove to have an effective role on the team...
…Sgt. Flutter! A paratroopa who’s many disguises often landed him into some trouble…
…Sapphire! As the Lady in Red she came later on to help out with the festivities...
…Yoshiman (and Mr. Predict)! At first a member of the “Split-Personality” Party, managed to lend a hand in tough situations...
…Masamune! Introducing himself as a member of the “Birdocrats” Party will prove to have it in for Vorpal and the rest of the world...
Also, a number of appearances by random people, political and otherwise, who, if they knew of this parody, would surely have our heads ^.^()
And now, our tale begins…
Chapter 1: Ditto McCloaker[edit]
Time: August 4, 2000.
1:37 pm
Scene: A cheap Apartment in a run-down hotel. It is almost totally devoid of furnishings, unless you consider pizza boxes, chinese take-out boxes, and magazines furnishings. A form lays sprawled out on a tattered couch., sound asleep. On a coffee table is an autodialing machine, programmed with the numbers of rich and prominent people. It clicks through each number...
Auto-Dialer: *beep* Hello! How would you like to be a member of the fastest-growing club in the world? You, that’s right, YOU have been chosen to become a member of "Mega Mega Extreme Doki Doki Panik" a club for ultra-modern sophisticates like yourself. To become a member, simply send $50 to "Vorpal," Apt. 10, Broken Arms Apartments, St. Louis Misourri, 31516. Hurry! Status and new experiences await!" *BEEP*
*The figure on the couch rolls over and continues snoring, as the auto-dialer continues, one phone number after another. The figure wears a black and purple ninja costume, with a visor. A sword is strapped to his back, and his spiky hair is tied back in a ponytail. He has a goatee, and his eyebrows are arched, making him look rather like an incarnation of a cartoonish devil.
Scene: Naval Observatory, Washington D.C.
*Two figures sit in chairs in a well-decorated living room. One is cloaked in shadows, yet talks in a folksy, Arkansas accent. The other figure leans on the fireplace mantel, receiving instructions from his master. This one is tall and thin, very stiff in manner, with thin eyebrows, hooked nose, thin lips, and no chin.*
Shadowy Figure: So, ya see, buddy, yer mah only hope to retain my hold on this country.
Algore: I understand, Mr. President.
Shadowy Figure: I keep tellin’ ya, jes call me "Clintin’." Now, I’m sorry about that little scuffle with the Buddhist monks. I honestly didn’t see that one getting out. Now, regarding what we do next. I’ve taken some preliminary steps. We’ve unfrozen Pat Buchanan. He’s relies on the right wing so much that he flies in circles. He will draw votes away from the Republican candidate, without actually having a chance to win. Now, all we need is someone to help you with your campaign. Someone sneaky. Willin’ ta sink ta any low ta achieve his ends. Someone who won’t think twice about exploitin’ people’s stupidities to achieve the meanest gain. With no scruples.
Algore: But, where will we find such a person?
*phone rings*
Algore: Pardon me, Master.
Clintin’: Uh course.
*Algore picks up the phone*
Phone: ~*Beep*~ Hello, wealthy person! Now, you, yes, YOU have been chosen to be a member of one of the most exclusive...
Algore: *frustrated* Bah, just some recorded message, selling membership to some bogus organization. One of those scams that try to gain money by making phony promises for money.
Clintin: Al, you haven’t been paying attention all these years, have you? Get that man here, immediately.
Algore: Yes, master! *runs out*
~Back in Missourri, the figure turns over again, as the dialer goes to another number...~
Scene: Governor’s Mansion, Houston, Texas. Front Lawn. A figure on a horse gallops by. The rider, silouhetted against the sun, wearing a cowboy hat, urges his steed onward. The screen pans out, and we see that the horse has training wheels. The man’s large, innocent eyes, devoid of thought or concern, smile as his horse bends down to take a drink from a crystal fountain. Oil derricks dot the landscape all over the place.
Man: Yee-HAW!
*As he looks at the landscape, he sees the gates of his land open, and a black limo cruises up the driveway to the mansion. The man frowns*
Man: Awww, cowpies. Guess play time’s over...
*He continues to gallop around, and a grim-faced butler comes out to summon him*
Butler: Mr. Governor...
Man: I told ya, Jeeves, call me "Dubya!"
Butler: *sigh* Your father has arrived. He has commanded me to summon you.
Dubya: Awwww... The Old Man, huh? Alway’s spoilin’ mah fun.
*gets off the pony and walks to the house. He enters the main hall and takes off his boots and spurs, handing them to a butler to scrape the... debris... off*
Voice: Hurry in here, son, and greet yer Old Man!
*He looks at a figure seated in an armchair, surrounded by Secret Servicemen. He is also cloaked in shadows. He has a peculiar, jerky manner of speech.*
Dubya: Howdy, pappy. What brings ya to the ranch?
Old Man: You know very well why I am here, son. It’s that time.
Dubya: Yeah...
Old Man: That infernal Clintin’ is about to reach the end of his final term. Soon, he will be cast out. The White House will again be open. The Presidency is up for grabs. The White House must return to the proper hands. My hands.
Dubya: So, why don’t you run, pa?
Old Man: Fool! They will never re-elect me. That horrible Clintin’ made a mockery of me, that can never be forgotten. However, I can achieve my revenge, by gaining INDIRECT power over the House. And, that, my son, is where you come in.
Dubya: AWww, pa. Why don’t you get Shrub to do it?
Old Man: If he had the ambition, I would. He certainly got the brains in the family. But your brother devotes himself to Florida. He does not want the Presidency. You do, however. Admit it, you do.
Dubya: Yeah, but, how can I...?
Old Man: It can be yours, son. Those Demmy-crats are plannin’ to nominate Algore for the next presidential candidate. You know what that means. He will safeguard power for Clintin’. However, I have discovered his weakness. He lacks charisma and spirit. You may be just what I need to defeat him. Don’t worry. I’ll lend you Cheney to be your running mate.. *hands him a Pokeball* He helped me during my administration. He’ll help you take over the day-to-day details.. Further, I believe the Nader will reappear from the forests, and he will indirectly help us by taking votes from the wide-eyed liberal Demmy-crats. I’ll provide you with strategies and money. You can’t lose.
Dubya: Okay, pop. Okay. I’ll run. What next?
Old Man: I can’t help you every step of the way. We need someone able to gyp the people out of their shirts, and not feel the slightest pang of conscience. A true conservative, who will take orders.
*phone rings*
Old Man: I’ll get that. It’s probably Bar, checkin on me.
Dubya: Here ya go. *hands him the phone*
Old Man: Hello?
Phone: Hello! You, that’s right, YOU have been given the chance to join...
Old Man: *in disgust* What is this? Some ridiculous recording?
Dubya: Oh, yeah, it’s that Vorpal guy, from Mega Mega Extreme Doki Doki Panik. We get a call from him every afternoon around dinner. Such a friendly guy. I always enjoy talking with him. I send him money all the time.
Old Man: *looks at his son incredulously* Son... it’s a recording.
Dubya: Well, I always did think he repeated hisself alot.
Old Man: But... it’s just some schmuk trying to gain rich people’s confidence through deception and... *eyes open wide* Get him. I don’t care if you gotta offer him El Paso! JUST GET HIM! NOW. GO!
Dubya: Yes dad!
~Later, at the Apartment...~
Vorpal: ZZZ...
*outside, a long black limo with the presidential seal drives up. Approaching from the other side of the direction comes a long blue limo with cow horns on the hood. A tall, stiff man steps out from the black limo. A stalky man with a cowboy hat steps out of the other. They head to the door, and bump shoulders with each other. They look at each other*
Each: Do I know you? Sorry...
*They reach for the same doorbell, marked ‘Vorpal.’ They look at each other. Dubya gives a huge, folksy smile, and rings the doorbell. Algore looks at this man, who is here to see the same guy*
~Upstairs~
*Ding Dong*
Vorpal: Zzzsnork.. What?
*The figure on the couch is jarred awake, and falls off the couch.*
Vorpal: ZZZ... huh? What? Uh-oh! The feds! *unplugs the autodialer, and throws it out the back window* Uh... come on up.
*Algore and Dubya, still constantly bumping into each other, walk to the door. Both knock*
Vorpal: Come on in *kicks stuff under his couch*
*Algore and Dubya both enter*
Algore: Hello.
Dubya: Howdy.
Vorpal: *recognizing his guests* Oh, crud!
Dubya: Nope! I’m George W. Bush, governor of Texas, and Election 2000 Candidate!
Algore: *gasps* You’re DUBYA?!
Dubya: Why, shore! And who’re you?
Algore: I am Algore, Vice President of the United States! Don’t you recognize me?!
Dubya: Nope. I’m not a Warshington insider, you know. *stupid grin*
Algore: *gasping at his lack of political knowledge* Oh, well... *turns to Vorpal* Are you the one who heads this "Doki Doki" whatever organization?
Vorpal: Uhhh... maybe.
Algore: I need your help.
Dubya: Uhhh... Oh yeah! So do I.
Algore: *gives Dubya a sideways glance* I need your help running the country.
Dubya: Me too. It’s tough.
Algore: Well, obviously, he can’t help us both!
Dubya: That’s fine. He can help me.
Algore: Im not going to let that happen! *to Vorpal* I’ll pay you $1,000!
Dubya: Har! Pocket change! You don’t know how to bargain like a Republic’n! In Texas, we start BIG! I offer ya $5000!
Algore: I have the National Treasury at my back! I offer you $10,000!
Dubya: Pshaw. $100,000.
Algore: $500,000!
Vorpal: Sorry guys. I’m independent.
Dubya and Algore: *incredulous* ...You know, you’re just throwing away your vote.
Vorpal: You’re right...
*Both smile*
Vorpal: *gets a wonderful idea* ...But, since you think I have such talent... I’m starting my own political party! I’m calling it *thinks* the "Mega Mega Extreme Doki Doki Panik Party!" Yes! I will restore this country to it’s former glory! Sorry, gentlemen, but if you will excuse me, I have a Presidential campaign to run! *ushers them out quickly*
*The next day...*
~Vorpal lays on the couch, snoring. The auto-dialer sits on the coffee table next to him, with some duct tape on it. A new message plays~
Voice: Hello! This is Vorpal. I wish to be your President. From what I’ve heard, you and I have the same values and beliefs. But, as a third-party, I need your support. You can show your support for the Mega Mega Extreme Doki Doki Panik Party by sending $500 to MMEDDP Campaign to Elect Vorpal, Apt. 5, Hilton Arms, St. Louis, MO, 41415. I want to fight for YOU! *beep*
*it goes on like this...
Until, sometime later...*
Place: Ditto Domain
Time: Noon, November 1, 2000
Location: Undisclosed
*In an office. In the center, is a desk, bathed in a pool of light. Behind it is a large, ornate chair. The phone rings. A hand reaches from the chair to pick it up. He talks, but his face is obscured by the chair...*
Ditto McCloaker: Ditto speaking?
Voice: Hello! Vorpal here!
Ditto: Vorpal?
Recording: You, yes YOU have been chosen...
Ditto: A recording? Huh. Another one of his little schemes... *starts to put the phone down, but then stops and begins to listen to the full message*
Ditto: Mega Mega Extreme Doki Doki Panik Party...? Where did he get THAT one? *leans back* Start-up political party... *presses a button on his chair, and a screen comes down. On it we see Dubya and Algore on split screens, on two separate channels, waving to separate crowds. Ditto looks on and thinks...*
Ditto: He might just have something here... I see he’s just using it as a mere chance to get rich quick... But with THOSE candidates... Hmmm...
*In Vorpal’s apartment, he wakes up to go to the john. As he comes back, he notices a rolled up piece of paper on a table. He picks it up curiously*
Voice: I recommend you read it first. You never know when you’re signing your soul away...
*Vorpal turns around, to see the figure in the doorway. He is wearing a green business suit, green derby. He looks unshaven and his eyes are hidden behind glinting glasses.*
Vorpal: Whoa. Renon the demon?
Man: Not far from him, at any rate. It’s me, Ditto McCloaker. *tips his hat cordially*
Vorpal: Oh, yeah! We met at that cosplay in Otaku last year! What’s with the disguise?
Ditto: *chuckles* Well, Niccolo Machiavelli once said that men are somewhere between angels and devils. And a good politician is somewhere between a man and devil. So I chose this look for a career in politics.. It’s quite ironically appropriate, if one is to be a politician, I thought.
Vorpal: Politician?
Ditto: Indeed. You are starting a new political party, are you not?
Vorpal: Yeah, but... that’s just a scheme.
~Ditto enters the room. He takes a sitting position... in mid-air. A pointy tail flicks behind him, and Vorpal is a bit creeped out by his ability to get into a part...~
Ditto: *explaining casually* It doesn’t have to be. Look at the candidates. You saw them. You may actually have a chance, and... I wish, if you agree, to be your running mate.
Vorpal: With you as Veep... and me as the President...
Ditto: *produces a pen* Sign here.
*Vorpal does. As he releases the pen, the contract floats up in the air, and is snapped up by a flying briefcase, which then floats to Ditto. He then looks at Vorpal thoughtfully*
Ditto: Now... To make you more presidential...
*He snaps his fingers, and Vorpal’s black costume is replaced by a white shirt, tie, and pants.*
Vorpal: Awesome.
Ditto: Indeed. Now... let’s hit the road.
*Willie Nelson’s "On the Road Again" is heard on the radio as the two sit down to discuss their next move...*
| Chapters in Mega Mega Extreme Doki Doki Panik |
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