The year was 1994. Donald Trump hadn’t even entered the picture yet.
You might say the current political crisis in outer space, that which necessitates a space force to protect America, began when Melania Repulsa first emerged from a thousand-year slumber inside a dumpster in Slovenia on the moon:
While nominally in a position of power to inflict maximum damage on the American experiment in democracy the downtown commercial sectors of our great metropolises–City Grove, Springtown, Albanyville–Melania is mostly just a figurehead. As we shall see later in this series, others in the space monster hierarchy supply the brains, the muscle, the useless-descendant hijinks, etc. She just kind of stands around looking strangely alien. It’s still no excuse, and I hope she is pulverized by the space force.
Special Powers: stealing quotes from famous black women. Can morph into a mannequin at will. A garish sense of personal and interior Christmas decoration. Surprisingly powerful hand slap. Most recently: ironic chain migration.
Evil Catchphrase: “At last! It’s time to conquer…meh. I don’t really care, do you?”
Culture Time 