". . . In conclusion, we need to form a great Army of light to prepare for the coming invasion, it will contain normal people who have a high calling and who fight for something honorable and noble." Said the Pope.
"But your Holiness, that army is already taken."
"I am sure that we can persuade the US government to share with us."
A few hours later Pope Bush sat on the steps of the White House, the President's mocking laughter still ringing in his ears.
"Selfish bastard." He muttered.
"And you said please too." Said Bob his personal Bodyguard.
Bush glanced at the Knight Templar to see if he was joking. He wasn't. The Pope wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to put up a notice on Facebook like everyone else."
"But your Holiness." Whined Bob.
The Pope raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"You can't mean that you're considering accepting anyone who wants to the join the Papal Army of Light, you might get. . . Protestants."
The Pope shuddered slightly and sighed. "My son, I fear that desperate times call for desperate, I only hope that the Almighty in his infinite wisdom and mercy can forgive me."
Bob looked like he might burst into tears as they left the White House for the Pope's personal transportation: The Popmobile. It could a plane, rocketship, sweet-looking Limo, extreme-weather-all-terrain vehicle or a submarine as needed.
Currently it was in sweet-looking Limo mode.
The Pope gathered up his Popely vestments and prepared to get in when all hell, literally, broke loose.
There was a familiar but unearthly howl of fury and a powerful arch-daemon came charging out onto the White House lawn, while it's fiery red face was distorted it was still recognizable as Michelle Obama and just beyond her outstretched talons, running for dear life, was her husband.
"Getawayfrommeeeeeee!" He frantically climbed a tree and Pope Bush came running to rescue.
"Avaunt, foul demonspawn of hell!" The Pope roared glowing with his holy power, massive Greatsword in hand.
But then more demons came running from all directions and as Joe Biden ran out onto the Lawn trying to avoid the demon in hot pursuit of him when another demon came running up and ate him.
Bob arrived seconds too late to save Biden and gaped in horror. "You. . . you, ate the Vice President."
The demon scratched its bulging belly and belched. "Big $*8^&%# deal."
". . . Was that a joke?"
"Yes." The demon scratched its belly again.
"Well it wasn't a very good one, in rather poor taste actually. . . in fact, it sucks."
Bob shrugged and then charged the demon.
Meanwhile Pope Bush was fighting for his life, he swirled through the air dealing out mighty roundkicks that broke the sound barrier when they made contact. He went into dizzying figure eights through knots of leaping demons and their severed heads simultaneously bounced from their thickly muscled necks while their smoking entrails slid out of their stomachs
Blood and chunks of flesh spewed everywhere and the Secret Service Agents came pouring out of the White House, spraying the demons with automatic weapons fire and the demons bellowed in agony and as the rounds ripped through them and sent more gore flying across the once pristine lawn.
Special limos rushed VIPs away on thrilling high speed chases through DC, cars blew up for no reason and someone drove through a fruitstand, although what a fruitstand was doing on 1600 Pennsylvannia Avenue no one knew.
Pope Bush parried away a howling demonic runesword and fired with his holy pistol. It never ran out of ammo and the bullets struck with unerring accuracy even though the Pope never took his eyes off the sword-wielding demons around him.
And then the demons called up zombies. And the Pope looked at the rotting shambling corpses and said:
"Oh for- for Heaven's sake, can't you guys come up with a legitimate threat?"
One or two of the demons actually sniffled and one of the younger ones burst into tears, just before the Pope to lopped their heads off.
Then the outraged ghosts of the men and women buried at Arlington came streaking across the street and ripped into the demons who wailed and gnashed their teeth as they vanished in puffs of blood.
Then the Air Force arrived with F-22s and A-10s and proceeded to level the entire Avenue.
Bob gutted the demon who ate Joe Biden and made a tasteless joke about it, blood, mangled smoking guts, pieces of the former Vice President and shit flew everywhere and the demon sank to its knees and Bob jumped into the air and as he came down he clove the demon from crown to navel, the shattered chunks collapsed at Bob's feet and he whirled in time to see the Archdemon Michelle snatch the unfortunate Barack from the tree he'd climbed.
Bob saw that the Pope was occupied helping the Secret Service guys deal with the surviving demons and he couldn't hit her with his sword from this distance.
So he drew his pistol and shot her.
At last the battle was over, the lawn looked like something from the battle of the Somme and the ground was blanketed with mangled corpses while thick smoke billowed into the sky and the sound of approaching sirens filled the air.
"Not bad huh?" Said Bob to Bush.
The Pope wiped blood off his face and shook his head. "That was just the beginning, my son. A probing attack."
Bob paused. "Oh. . . well then. . . Hey, look on the bright side, at least we won't have trouble creating the Glorious Army of Light now."