We sail the great and wondrous sea that is this new Heroic Age, which would not have been possible without the profound insight, courage, and brilliance of President Barack Obama.
We hail from the island of Kos, and sing of many adventures, such as Grayson & The Argle Barglenauts; Chulysses and the quest to capture Helios; and the great battle between Hippocrates and Hypocrites.
We sing of brave Obama of Chikagos, eluding the attacks of mighty Ares that the gifts of Prometheus and the light of Apollo may shine into the darkest corners of the world. Of his battles with the Lieclops and its kind, whose diminishing cries of rage and fury in its death throes still trouble the dreams of mankind. Of his joyous laughter at the challenge of the GOPoi, with their legendarily tiny penises and even smaller minds. Of his mild annoyance at continually having to scrape the Moranoi off the bottom of his sandals. This Atlas ain't shrugging.
The Goreacle of Delphi has asked me to deliver a message to the Republikonoi and King Berzerxes of the Perversian Empire:
Ψσυ Γ ρήυκτ