Obama and the battle for the Obamaprism: The Rise of Reagan

Side Chapter 2 - A Worried General Reflects Upon a Cruel Fate

"Hey, Mike, I'll take a Powerade," a short, green figure says as they sit down upon a stool, gesturing to a bartender situated behind a counter.

"No problem, Brigade Commander," the bartender, Mike, responds, disappearing into a door to obtain the Commander's request.

As Mike exits the room, Brigade Commander Lego Yoda sighs, resting his head on his arms, collapsed against the counter. Mike enters the room carrying a glass full of a vibrant blue liquid, placing it in front of the hunched Lego Yoda. Lego Yoda glances at Mike, taking in his short, round body featuring skin as green as Lego Yoda's, a massive eye taking up most of the body's upper half. A giant mouth just as spacious as the eye spreads across the lower half of the body, spread in a wide grin that quickly stiffens as he observes Lego Yoda's depressed figure.

"Is everything alright, Brigade Commander?"

"I'm just worried, Mike. I sent a few youngsters to stop Reagan, but you know just how bad that man can be."

"Yeah," Mike responds, closing his eye and rubbing the scar running along it. "He's become quite the cruel fellow recently, hasn't he? In any case, I'd rather not meet him again."

"Who would want to meet that guy? The only commendable thing about him is his ability to run a country." Lego Yoda's frown deepens as he falls into thought. "Mike, something's not right here. Reagan's actions are far too different than what he's done previously; he was never this cruel, never this greedy. It makes no sense that he would even know about Obamium... It's almost like he's being manipulated. There's most likely another force at play."

"Another force at play, huh? They'd have to be pretty dumb to pick a fight with the Church, gathering all of those fragments, huh?"

"I wouldn't call them dumb, exactly. If they were stupid then our job would be a lot easier, and we'd probably have found them by now. Rather, it seems as if they're prepared to face off against the Church, or at least escape from its forces."

"Against the Archbishops?"

"To be confident in any way when compared to those monsters, one would need to be a monster themselves."

"Most likely." A nervous look comes across Mike's face as he continues, "Say, Brigade Commander, should you really be disclosing this information so casually?"

"It's fine," Lego Yoda responds with a wry smile, "I've known you for what, now? Forty years? There's no way that you'd betray me, unless I'd really gone bonkers. And look around us!" Lego Yoda throws his hands outwards, bringing notice to the empty bar, "There's nobody to overhear our conversation."

"I see. I apologise for interrupting you."

"No need. We're friends, after all, a little concern is warranted."

"Thank you. How are these 'youngsters' you speak of faring?"

"I'm not quite sure. They've supposedly managed to cross into Reagan's territory without issue, but as soon as they left ours I lost contact with them."

"How did they cross through? I would think a battlefield to be impassable, or at least I'd say the chances are fairly low."

"I heard they took the long way around."

"Truly? Through those wastelands?"

"It appears so."

"I see," Mike laughs, "if they're willing to go that far then I'm sure that they'll be a sizable threat to Reagan."

"Yeah," Lego Yoda replies, "but I'm still a little worried. They just awakened their Gaits, so they're going to need to grow very quickly if they want to succeed."

"Ah. You've got a good eye, Brigade Commander. I'm sure that they'll meet your expectations."

"I hope so. You never know, what fate's got planned, though."

"That's true, Brigade Commander. Fate hasn't been too kind to either of us, has it?" Mike's voice softens as he traces the scar once more.

An image flashes through Lego Yoda's mind, a memory of his comrades falling one by one to the hands of that abominable organisation.

"You think they're the ones behind this?" Mike's question pulls Yoda out of his reminiscence.

"Yes, I do. They're the only ones who could dream of fighting the Church."

"They're monsters in more than just power, aren't they?" Mike's expression darkens, a complex mixture of rage and sorrow sprawled across his face. "Bernie's out of commission thanks to that group, and Sulley and Jordan, they're..."

"Bakunin, too. I heard he went for revenge while we were resting."

Mike's eye starts to water before he pulls himself together. "I really hope that we never have to see those monsters again."

"Seconded," Lego Yoda responds, sighing as he finishes his Powerade. "I should be going soon," he continues, "I've got to finish my work."

"Thanks for dropping by."

"How much?"

"Normally it's fifteen scrug, but for an old pal I'll cut it down to ten."

"How kind," Lego Yoda replies, sliding a bill across the counter. "For now, we'll need to leave our futures up to that group of four."

"That we will, Brigade Commander," Mike calls out to the leaving Lego Yoda. He sighs, polishing the glass left behind as he prepares for his next customer. "That we will."

Mike glances up, seeing the last glimpses of Lego Yoda's shadow as he exits the bar, closing the door behind him. Mike places the clean glass upon a drying rack and glances at the clock stationed on the wall above him.

"Closing time's in fifteen minutes. Maybe I should just leave early."

Almost as if waiting for his voice, another figure walks into the bar. The figure walks up to Mike, stopping just short of the bar.

"Order?" Mike queries, before startling as he takes in the figure's appearance.

"Say, Mike," says Pope Francis of the Divine Church of Bob Ross, "I'd like to make a deal."