NationStates Jolt Archive

Dolevania, BobDole the AntiChrist

His tapered, clawed fingers gripped the pen tightly, as he eloquently etched his putrid signature to the crimson sheet of paper, wearing a sadistic, sardonic smile on his unholy face. His grin revealed hideously malformed, pus-coated fangs sharper than surgeons' scalpels. Chuckling in a soft but callous manner, he sealed the document in an envelope, gave it to his secretary- a short, rotund, winged demon named Horus- to bring to the printing office to make thousands of copies. Once Horus was done, he gripped a copy of each in his talons and distributed them throughout the world. Each national leader, upon opening the diabolical envelope, beheld the following macabre message:

Fellow leaders of the world,
I, Robert J. Dole, the bane of life,
the root of all evil, the epitome of
tyranny, the scourge of the Earth,
the progenitor of chaos, the warlord
of terror, the head honcho of Hell,
do hereby invite you to construct an
embassy in my fiery nation. I request
permission to do the same in your
nation. Thank you for your time.

Yours Untruly,
Bob Dole, Lord of Evil

(OOC: Anyone? :()

Sheesh...

bump

Dan Quayle laughed at this usurper. He was the anti-Christ, and now some upstart was stealing the throne of evil. He reached for a file and began sharpening his fierce claws, all the while chuckling at the foolishness of his rival. Reveal yourself to me at so early an age. Fool. After he had filed his claws into a knife-like sharpness, he wrote his own letter.



Ye fool, how dare thee usurpeth the Throne of Evil, for thy power is not yet waxed full, and thy minions sparse. In counsel thee to leave my Throne, and return to thy dark and evil cave, for thou shalt not withstand my wrath, for my power has nearly waxed full. I shall give thee no more warning, shall thou refuseth the chance to fight another day, and I shall stalk thee as an owl does a mouse.

-Dan Quayle

Dan Quayle laughed at this usurper. He was the anti-Christ, and now some upstart was stealing the throne of evil. He reached for a file and began sharpening his fierce claws, all the while chuckling at the foolishness of his rival. Reveal yourself to me at so early an age. Fool. After he had filed his claws into a knife-like sharpness, he wrote his own letter.



Ye fool, how dare thee usurpeth the Throne of Evil, for thy power is not yet waxed full, and thy minions sparse. In counsel thee to leave my Throne, and return to thy dark and evil cave, for thou shalt not withstand my wrath, for my power has nearly waxed full. I shall give thee no more warning, shall thou refuseth the chance to fight another day, and I shall stalk thee as an owl does a mouse.

-Dan Quayle



Please don't post unless you're applying for an embassy. Thanks.

Secretary Dailey appeared in a great poof of pinkish smoke (though he maintains it's on the purple side of fuschia) and snarled. "Ha! I am the Anti-Christ, fool, not thou, fool and mortal!"

He sprouted red horns on the sides of his head; his eyes turned ferociously yellow, and indeed evil steam hissed from his nose.

Then he brightened up, and this passed; and he said cheerfully, "Say, what say an embassy exchange with Zoogiedom?"

Secretary Dailey appeared in a great poof of pinkish smoke (though he maintains it's on the purple side of fuschia) and snarled. "Ha! I am the Anti-Christ, fool, not thou, fool and mortal!"

He sprouted red horns on the sides of his head; his eyes turned ferociously yellow, and indeed evil steam hissed from his nose.

Then he brightened up, and this passed; and he said cheerfully, "Say, what say an embassy exchange with Zoogiedom?"

"That would be excellent," the Lord of Darkness, Bob Dole the Tyrant, cackled. "My ambassador to uh...the Zoogie People shall be Wanda Killyu."

"Of course, that is most welcome. And our ambassador to your country, which has an absurdly long name (it's not good for record-keeping matters, y'know), shall be the honorable legate, lord of Darkness, master of Wrath and Fire, Thou Artnot Antichristus."

With this, the secretary of state disappeared in a poof of pink smoke (though he still maintains that it's more purple and not pink at all).

We shall be happy to do business with your nation, oh Bob Dole, the Anti-Christ. Would you like to buy a few weapons, perhaps help us develop a really big nuke?