Scene: THE BLACK HOUSE (a skull-shaped submarine parked in a mangrove swamp)

Enter BARRACK HUSSEIN OBAMA, in an explosion of sinister green smoke and flickering black lights. A sinister cabal of shadowed figures, seated at a long, rectangular mahogany table (the blackest of all woods, natch).

OBAMA: Welcome back my sinister cabal. The dreaded NRA has failed to mention a giant conspiracy to take away the all guns and banjos of god-fearing white people for a full two and half days…the time has come…to STRIKE!

(OBAMA raises his hands above his head, and a light projector in the ceiling activates. A holographic image of the United States is projected on to the surface of the table.)

OBAMA: Cyborg Jim Brady, your task is to buy all the ammo and tinfoil. Baron Mafred von Richthofen…triple chemtrail density and add extra fluroride. Sinister Leftist Jews—keep poisoning wells with Feminism Extract A and the Political Correctness Virus. Al Sharpton, use your race wizard powers to summon the cannibal Zande warriors of ancient times. Niam-Niam! And retrieve my Scepter of Welfare Checks from the Mexican Ambassador. He’s where I left him: marinating in adobo in the Second Circle of Hell!

But Bruce, yours is the most important task, though. Your Kardashian Klones have destroyed the morale of hardworking Americans, and have been the most powerful force since Sir Mixalot in propagating the idea that big asses are hot. And soon our Leftist Overlord will come of age. IA IA NORTH WEST FTAGHN.

But it’s not enough Bruce. You have to be Horatio on the bridge, distracting them all as we get the moon-sized teleprompter into the correct orbital position.