Dave and Obama prevent World War 3

With the elections finally over, it was at last a time for President Obama to take a break, before having to deal with the many harsh realities that presidency brings with its flowing mantle of democracy; after a lot of press interviews, many conferences, a few speeches, and a huge celebration back at the office, it was time for Obama to unwind before getting back to actually keeping the country in order. With all this time to chill, he thought of his good friend Dave, who had saved him a few years back from an assassination attempt, and realized that right now would be a good time to hang out with him. He picked up his phone, calling up the boy in Texas.

 

"'Sup." A young voice answered.

 

"Ah, hello, would this be Mister Dave Strider?" Obama asked uncertainly.

 

"Ah hell, is that who I think it is?" The voice replied, incredulously.

 

"Yes, this is Barack Obama, President of the United St-"

 

"Yeah yeah, I know, chill Prez." he interrupted. "What's up, dude?"

 

"Well I was wondering if--" Obama hesitated. Well, it was a time to cut back, wasn't it? "You wanna chill at the Whitehouse, bro?"

 

A light chuckle was heard across the wire. "You know it, B-Rizzle. I'll be over in a few ticks." The phone hung up, and Barack slowly put it back down.

 

And like he said, in a minute or two, Dave Strider was led ceremoniously into the Oval Office, where Barack stood, looking through the window.

 

"Ah, you're here!" he exclaimed, trying to hide his surprise. "Uhh, that was quite quick of you."

 

"Yeah, I'm like that." Dave replied, smirking. "So what's the haps, old man? Congrats on the election. Never doubted you."

 

Obama smiled, nodding his head. "Oh, I just felt like I needed to take a day off before I--" Once more he stopped his self. Ah, fuck it. Time to chill out, right?" "I was just thinking of getting some mad hangouts with a sweet bro before I had to get to work, you feel me?"

 

Dave nodded his head, thinking over what the President had revealed.

 

"Wanna hear some sick rhymes I've been writing?"

 

---

 

"...And you know he's got it down like his name's Hancock,

Travelled all across the world from Lima to Bangkok

Where the fuck is either? Shit you shouldn't ask me,

Ask the man who fuckin' did it, the Pee-Rezz-Dizzle-Dee,

Obama, Obama, the ladies are screamin',

Got any words to say after the creamin' you deemin'?"

 

"David, you know I've got plenty words to say,

But words on Mitt Romney? Fuck, that nigga's gay!"

 

"OHHHHHHHHHH SNAP!" Dave hollered. Obama broke out into hoots of laughter, as the phone began to ring; nearly off the hook.

 

"Yo, yo, Mister president, phone's ringin'." Dave said, as his head continued to bop. As Obama picked up the phone, he went back to muttering words under his breath.

 

"Hello, President Barack Obama speaking. Yes? Yes. I see. Missiles on route to Florida? From who? Chinese forces? Uh-huh. I see..." Dave stopped rapping as he looked up at Obama, observing the joy seep fom his face. "Alright. Then they must understand that this means war. Alright. Godspeed, General." Obama hung up the phone, looking to the floor.

 

"Mister Prez?" Dave asked. Silence.

 

"Barack? Dude? You gonna be cool?" Obama turned upwards, looking Dave in the face.

 

"David..."

 

"Nah, man. Don't worry." Dave said, putting out his hand to silence the president. "We got this. Call up the Chinese Government. We're gonna finish this in the most respectful and honourable way we know."

 

---

 

"...You suck so much D you should be called Nixon,

Your money-makin' schemes need some fuckin' fixin',

You think your ass can take on us? Get some thoughts through your head!

We'll turn your capital to ash and make you wish y'all were fuckin' dead!"

 

"B-Rizzle OUT!"

 

The chinese ambassadors, leaving with their heads hung low, and Hung Low feeling low, took their leave of the world stage as the crowd went wild. The winner was clear: Barack Obama, president of the United States, and his unidentified young, musically-gifted friend, had blown the Chinese Rappers out of the international waters. With a cool-ass fist pound, the two took their leave, sipping Apple Juice on the back porch of the Whitehouse as the USA enjoyed their untarnished freedom.

 

"B-Rizzle, you are one crazy motherfucker, you know that?" Dave said.

 

"Word." Barack replied.