Our hero enters the cloying darkness of the Emperor's sanctum sanctorum and kneels before the great throne. Slowly the massive Armani chair swivels to reveal the shrivelled visage of Emperor Rove. Darth Goofus speaks.
"What is thy, um, I mean...uh...what'cha want?"
"Have you seen the recent polls, Darth Goofus?" Rove's voice creaks with the weight of decades of evil.
"I have, my mustard, uh, I mean master. They're pretty bad, huh?"
"Of course they're bad!! Now shut up and listen."
"Yes, my mustard."
"(sigh) You must go forth to the reddest places, and there ridicule our enemies. Dis them in public as if they were pledges at your frat house before the hazing bans. Use your Sith powers to make them feel as if they have just been pantsed in PE, and then tripped in the lunchroom."
"Heh, heh. I just did that to Scooter last week before his hearings. heh,heh."
"(groan) Yes, my foolish apprentice, I know all about that. You should not be attacking your own minions."
"Oh, sorry, mustard."
"Whatever. I will work the talk shows, while you work the morons who still think you know what you are doing. Together we must convince them that the polls are lies, and that Saddam was a far greater threat than Iran and North Korea combined."
"Is the Dark Side truly that powerful, man...um, I mean my mastard?"
"For our sakes we must hope so, foolish apprentice. Now go, and send in the attack droid, Cheney. We must get him on Face the Nation immediately."
"Yes, my muster."