The Adventures of Joseph Kony

Guns blazing around me in a fiery flare, I dove beneath the dense jungle underbrush. Underneath this cover, I peered out at my assailant, an army of internet hipsters. They had come for me. Under the direction of Jason Russell, an “army for peace” had come to end my life. Crawling along on my hands and knees, I pulled myself through the Ugandan forest floor toward my bunker. I had to get back to safety. My army of children awaited orders, and they were the only thing that would stand between me and the brink of death. Summoning the last few ounces of my strength, I dug my elbows into the earth and pushed my exhausted body forward. I had been running for so long, and if only I could last longer, I would be safe… Just a few more meters.

I awoke with one of my child medics standing above me. It was not he who had roused me, it had been the sound of explosions from outside. I bolted up into action, to the objection of my caretaker, but I had business to attend to. The Army for Peace was, almost literally, on top of my bunker, and it was only a matter of time before they had breached the exterior and infiltrated my sanctuary. I grabbed a spare weapon off of the table beside me, reloaded the ammunition, and, fighting a limp, made my way up the stairs towards the commotion. As I hobbled over the top of the staircase, I came face to face with the bunker door. Or what would have been left of it if it was still intact. But I was too late. Instead of the hulking metallic frame of the bunker, I was left staring into the cold face of Jason Russell himself.

“Kony” Russell croaked. Behind him I saw a group of armed men, all wearing thick glasses and Bob Marley t-shirts, their guns strung over their shoulders by biodegradable slings made of 100% recycled material. Russel spoke to me again, but I was partially deafened by the previous blows and I couldn't make out what he had said. Instead, I acted. With one painstaking movement, I swung my weapon and made contact with his ugly face. Within seconds, bullets rained down into my chest, penetrating my skin and unleashing a moist warmth beneath my shirt. Yet I fought on. I charged through the lines of hipster ranks, the scent of Axe body spray flooding my nose. But onward I pushed, until I had reached Jason Russell’s personal iPad and stash of various Apple products blasting “I Can’t Stop”. Behind me came a cry of “That’s the bad guy from Star Wars!”, but I knew what I had to do. With a squeeze of the trigger, I let a bullet fly straight through the iPad, the source of the hipster’s power. “Kra-kow!” came the resounding noise throughout the Ugandan forest. With their source of power destroyed, the hipsters stood around helplessly and without command. I had crushed their beloved Apple products and stopped the Army for Peace once and for all. I could now rest in serenity, knowing that the affairs of me and my underage armada would never be interfered with again.