Ru-Bi-Oh!

Ru-Bi-Oh!: Season 1, Episode 3

[MARCO RUBIO sits down and takes off his necklace, a wistful smile on his face.]

RUBIO: Well, we had some good times, didn’t we.

[A ghostly image appears from the necklace: the SPIRIT OF THE MILLENNIAL PUZZLE.]

SPIRIT: We sure did, Rubi.

(more…)

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Ru-Bi-Oh!: Season 1, Episode 2

[INT: The Reagan Presidential Library. It is a Monday night debate. A massive day of primaries looms tomorrow. This is our hero’s last chance to turn his fortunes around by securing a decisive win in Florida. But it’s not going well. MARCO RUBIO is bruised and battered (and sweaty, naturally), slowly getting to his feet after another devastating attack. He is down to his last 50 Primary Voters. Opposite him, his opponent stands. It is a tall man, of unusual complexion, haunted eyes, bizarrely disproportionate body parts, and utterly ludicrous hair dyed an impossible color. It is DONALD TRUMP. He still has all 4000 of his Primary Voters. (They’re symbolic, you see. More people than that are actually going to vote for him tomorrow.)

Oh, also, this is all happening atop the Library’s signature exhibit, Reagan’s AIR FORCE ONE, because why not.]

TRUMP: You’re finished, Rubi-boy! One more attack from my Blue-Eyes White People and you’re toast! And even if you could take it down, my Mexican Border Wall still protects my Primary Voters! (more…)

Marco Rubio: The Origin Story

Marco Rubio gets up on the debate stage. He feels a little nervous. But somehow reassured. For some reason, the necklace he got from his grandfather seems to calm him down.

The first answer of the night goes to Donald Trump:

“Look. There’s a reason I’m ahead in all the polls. And I can show you all the polls. I have a whole list. I’m beating them all. I’m especially beating little Marco Rubio, who can’t say anything without breaking a sweat.”

“That’s ENOUGH, Donald!” proclaims Rubio. “I’m tired of your games!”

“Oh, little Rubio is speaking up for himself!” retorts Trump. “This I gotta see!”

“I’ll do a lot more than speak up for myself, Donald!”

The pyramid on Rubio’s necklace begins to glow. Of its own accord it shakes. From somewhere deep inside him, beyond his control, Rubio finds himself crying out:

“RU-BI-OHHHH!”

The light fades. The figure there is almost Marco Rubio, but not quite. For one, he’s a good foot taller, and his hair is slightly rumpled now. A newfound confidence surges through his veins.

“Your bullying has gone on long enough, Trump!” says Rubio, his voice now an octave lower. “Brace yourself, because it’s time… to debate!!!”