The lights were dimmed in our secret basement laboratory while over a dozen lit candles danced with shadows across the room. Several smirking scientists filled the round table holding hands. Stern stares demanded silence making even Dr. 'Lodyte reduce the decibels of his methane emissions to near SBD levels.
Suddenly, there was a rapping sound crushing the silence.
"Is that you, Mr. Lincoln?" asked a shivering Dr. Dactyl.
"Four score and... what? Why, yes, it is, Good Doctor. How have you been?"
"J-just fine, Mr. President."
"What do you wish to ask me this night, O inquiring mind?"
"Sir, we would like to know what you think of our President Barack Obama- who some say is the new Abe Lincoln."
"President Obama... hmmmm. He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know."
"Wow! Really? We are totally surprised. He is so clean and articulate."
"Well, yes... What's that, George? Oh, yes, certainly. Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, it is time to watch the 'martyrs' interact with their 72 doe-eyed virgins downstairs. Folks, did you know the Pillsbury Doughboy's extented family is there? Wow, would you look at that! Sorry, dudes, I gotta split."
The dead silence returned. All at once everyone in the room jumped up and raced for the Leinenkugels.