OK, here we go: the final chapter of Obama in Gensokyo. This was a lot of fun for me, truly. Thanks a lot for your participation. Next time 'round, updates will happen faster, heh.
Obama reveals that NSA has in fact known about gensokyo and been spying on each of the girls and gathering pictures from Aya to use as blackmail to get them to fight wars for them.
YES HE CAN
Part 5: Worse Than Libya!
"The thing is," said Obama. "Well, I might as well come clean. It's clear to me that your uh ... primitive, almost paleolithic rudimentary forms of uh ... danmaku are not a challenge. So you pose no threat if you learn the truth."
The three Gensokyans blinked, suspended in air. Whatever their differences, even they knew that what they faced was a collective threat to their very way of life. Could they put religious differences aside, and unite against a common foe?
"Reimu, this is your fault by the way," said Shou. "Just a reminder."
Futo nodded. "If you had merely destroyed him the moment you saw him, none of this would have happened."
"What?," said Reimu. "Why would I even just-"
"The truth is," said Obama. "I already know everything about you. Not just you three, either. I mean each and every one of you. All I had to do was get close."
Obama straightened his tie.
"He is lying," said Futo. "That is completely impossible."
"Mononobe no Futo," said Obama, crossing his arms. "The Taoist hermit. Enjoys eating before bedtime, owns an extensive library on some lurid Sanskrit texts. She also enjoys dancing, usually in the early afternoon."
Futo betrayed no emotion, and said nothing.
"Shou Toramaru," said Obama.
"Wait," said Shou. "Futo, was that true? Are you really practicing dancing again?"
"I fail to see how this is the time or place," grumbled Futo.
"How do you know all this?", asked Reimu. "And why?"
"Well, let me try and explain it in terms your pre-evolutionary minds can comprehend. Uh ... you see, there's this group called the NSA. They're my eyes and ears. Nothing slips by. It doesn't matter if I'm flying over Antarctica. If you put the lid on your mustard crooked, I'll know in under six seconds. Anything that might pertain to US interests is relevant to me."
Obama looked at each one of them. And then he smiled.
"You think, what, that you can operate like this completely unseen? Folks popping in and out all the time? M-m." Obama shook his head. "I noticed that. The United States noticed that. And what we saw, my friends, was a brutal theocracy locked in a sectarian conflict."
"Whoah, hold on a minute," said Reimu. "That must mean ... you know someone from around here?"
"Let's just say a little bird told me."
Reimu fumed, silently.
"'Brutal theocracy?'," said Shou. "You can't be serious."
"Oh I couldn't be more serious. This conflict must come to an end. Because you see, we're a democracy. And the best thing about being a democracy is, you can share democracy with others."
Obama's hands began to glow golden from within, as small orbs of red, white and blue light started to spin around his hands. Obama's eyes widened, and glowed bright white. His smile broke into an open grin, like that of a killer possessed.
"Marmalade! Marmalade! Marmalade!," he shouted.
Instinctively, Reimu, Futo and Shou drew close together. As if on a primal, survival reflex, the three Gensokyans would concentrate their powers together to fight whatever Obama was going to give them.
From above Obama's shoulders, a wave of blue eagles roared forth. A calvalry of white cowboys stampeded towards the girls from his out-stretched arms. From his knees, battalions of red tanks raced forward, firing tens of thousands of bullets. The Gensokyans' squeezed their hitboxes so tightly they nearly prolapsed.
Suddenly, a deafening whistle blew through the air, and from over the heads of Reimu, Futo and Shou, huge slabs of green, red and blue cards, solid arcs with narrow spaces between them, flew towards Obama, evaporating everything he had coming at them.
The three turned around, looked up, and beheld Kanako Yasaka, hands outstretched, the arcs of cards flying from her palms.
"Aaaaah no!," cried Obama. "No no no! I suck at this one!"
Kanako laughed heartily. "Foolish mortal!," she bellowed. "Everybody sucks at this one!"
Obama desperately flailed the walls of cards, but his reflexes were off, his movements too hesitant. Still, he hung on.
"Go back!," yelled Kanako. "Go back to your United States! And tell them a Shinto goddess banished you from this place forever!"
Obama winced at the admonition, and the fear in his eyes showed he knew he wouldn't last. Seconds later, Obama evaporated in a bright flash of light and a static spark. The cards disappeared.
Reimu, Futo and Shou still held close together as they looked at the space where Obama once was. The air was still.
"Do you see?," Futo said to Reimu. "All you had to do was catch him off guard, and you could have killed him."
"I didn't kill him," said Kanako, reclining on the air. "But he's back to wherever he came from. Don't worry, I think he'll totally back off. I mean, what is he going to do, come back with an army?"
Kanako laughed. Reimu, Futo and Shou did not.
"Anyway, that was fun," said Kanako. "I swear that never gets old. I'll see you three at the fight, I suppose." With that, she was gone.
Reimu, Futo and Shou floated to the ground, to the very path where they had first met Obama. They were quiet for a moment, as if reflecting on this alien foe that they met that day.
"Well," said Shou. "It's pretty late in the afternoon now. No point in training this close to sundown."
"I agree," said Futo. "Rest is also important for the maintenance of a healthy body. Or so I have read."
Reimu nodded. "Yeah. So, tea?"
"Yes."
"Of course."
