Pop-Superstar Miley Cyrus and President Barack Obama's "Best of Both Worlds" Touring Battalion of Commandos Vs. TEAM

Pop-Superstar Miley Cyrus and President Barack Obama's: Best of Both Worlds Touring Battalion of Commandos is Xavier Harkonen in a NASA X-43 Hyper-X

TEAM is Hamblor: god of Hamburgers and his dog.


I am Xavier Harkonen, and this very well may be my last transmission.

After my many years of battling the machine hordes, who would have ever thought that there could be a foe even more dangerous, even more deadly, and even more disastrous than the vast army of Omnius and the Cymek army of the Titan Agamemnon combined. Hamblor, with his delicious hamburgers as his secret weapon has nearly laid waste to this universe, and it appears that I may be the only man left who can stop him. We knew that his grip over the appetites of all living creatures was tight; but it was not until he fed his hamburgers to the unicorns that we realized what a truly deadly combination it could be. So, here I sit, sending this transmission from within my ship, flying through the dense pink smoke of an evil-hamburger-induced-unicorn-fart. Bright pink of course being the most deadly form of fart gas, plus mixed with the magical tendencies and passed through the unnatural intestines of an unicorn has made this my most dangerous mission yet. If only I can find Hamblor before the gas permeates the hull of my NASA craft will I be able to save the galaxy from being consumed by more and more unicorn farts. Damn you Hamblor, for bringing the universe to its knees in such a way. We all trusted you with making our dinner; but instead......... You made our deaths.

THREE HOURS LATER.......

I don't have much time left, I can barely stand the smell of the pink gas which has begun to make its way into my ship. I feel my body begin to fail from the well-documented debilitating powers derived from unicorn-cow-meat-farts. But alas, I have one last chance. I see Hamblor, down in front of his palace. Soaking up the smell and eating his own populace-dominating hamburgers by the dozen. He remains a small target, I don't know how he keeps such a great figure after consuming so much red meat and carbs from those thick toasted buns. I just hope my aim is true as I fire my last remaining rocket at the god of ground meat patties. I push the fire button, but less than a second after I do, the ship's controls begin to finally fail from the over-powering smokey-fart-residue. I hit the eject button, but as I parachute down, I see my rocket hit its mark, I see the god of Hamburgers die, and provide hope for the survival of humanity. But my mission is not over, I must turn off the hamburger conveyor machine that is still on automatic, pumping out the delicious evil created to enslave us all.

I wander into the hamburger palace and am about to shut down the machine when I am viciously attacked by the most fearsome foe I have ever encountered: Hamblor's Dog. The violent and bloodthirsty beast leaps onto me and knocks me to the ground. In my fart-hazed-weakened-state I can barely muster enough strength to throw the hound off of me; but I accomplish the goal, I regain my footing, and I reach for my ceremonial Harkonen blade. This beast will now die by my family's forged steal, or I by his razor sharp tooth filled maw. The mutt leaps at me and I throw my left arm up in defense. It bites down hard on my arm; but I fight through the pain and jam my blade into the jugular vein of the evil canine; and perhaps clear the path for the ultimate survival of humanity.

THE END