It was a late November eve in the hallowed halls of the White House. The air was still, and the moon shone brightly overhead. For the everyman, this was a time to sleep, to prepare themselves for the coming day. William H. Taft was not one of the everymen. He was the President of the United States, handpicked by Theodore Roosevelt to become his successor. But there was something amiss in the air. The forces of evil were not content on this night.
Earlier that day, President Taft had been strolling along on the grounds of the White House, gazing upon the cows which he allowed to graze there. Some people thought he was crazy, allowing cows to be a part of the landscape of the nation's capital, but Taft did not care what his critics had to say. They were a part of his history, he would tell people. They were what connected him to his birthplace of Ohio. But they had another purpose. A secret purpose. One that he refused to tell even his Vice-President James S. Sherman or his cabinet.
These cows could talk.
"William!" one had shouted to him during the day. "I fear that the Negacrats are up to their evil schemes again!"
"What do you want me to do?" asked Taft. "I am merely the President, and my hands are tied when it comes to combating evil in the public eye."
"Then you shall have to take on another identity! One that will protect your true nature and allow you to roam the night freely, protecting Washington D.C. and the world!"
That was why Taft was not resting inside his bed or working late in his office. No, he chose to stay awake that night, standing proudly on the roof of the White House. This vantage point allowed him to survey the entire city, and the air did not lie to him. There was something amiss. And he could no longer sit by idly. He pulled out a roll of parchment, covered in writing far older than he. Lifting it up in the light of the moon, he shouted those words that would soon become known throughout the ratified states of the union.
"Union Prism Power!"
The 27th President of the United States, William H. Taft, was instantly engulfed in a bright light. The pressed suit that he had worn all that day disappeared in a flash, and a lone ribbon covered his flabby self. The ribbon was no ordinary one, possessed with magical properties that soon covered his body. President Taft was no longer just the leader of an up and coming nation. Dressed in a white body suit with a short blue skirt and a shining crown with an eagle embossed on the front, the world was introduced to Sailor Taft. With a salute, the air shivered. And so did Taft, getting used to his newly found draft.
Sailor Taft had barely gotten used to his newly transformed self when he found himself surrounded by horribly twisted figures, all wearing suits similar in the manner he had worn only moments before, but covered in stains and torn in incomprehensible places.
"House Representatives," Taft muttered. "Your time shall not come!"
Pulling out the piece of parchment again, it flashed in a brilliant display of seizure-inducing color, becoming a magical wand with another eagle shaped crystal perched on the top. Sailor Taft aimed the rod at the nearest House member, and a magical energy beam shot out, striking the unsuspecting monster.
"In the name of the United States Constitution, I punish you!"
Taft leapt into the air, striking one of the creatures with his outstretched leg. A pair of these drones rushed forward, preparing to attack when Sailor Taft landed, but decided against it when they looked upward, seeing the massive Sailor Scout underneath his skirt. They turned to run, but neither had the right idea, slamming into each other. Their final thoughts as they were crushed under the weight of this massive President could not have been pleasant.
The other minions of the Negacrats were met with similar fates, being attacked by the magical energy beams, flying fists, and swinging kicks of the massive champion of freedom. After crushing the final member of the lower house of the U.S. Government, Taft thought he could relax. He was wrong.
"That was only a warm-up!" shouted a voice high above the Sailor.
Taft turned to view his enemy, but was hit by a bolt of pure evil energy-- almost ten thousand volts. Thrown violently to the ground, the evil presence above made sure that Sailor Taft landed with his legs closed.
"Who are you?!" screamed Sailor Taft, looking up at the foreboding presence.
"I'm surprised you do not know," said the little man clad in black, his face obscured by a large hood. "I am the queen of these forces, and I will not rest until you are sent back to the world you came from!"
"I am not one from the Negacrats!" shouted Sailor Taft, trying to think of his next move.
"That is why you must be eliminated," the figure said. Taft looked into the obscured face, hoping to gain some idea of their identity. In the light of the moon, there was nothing--until a single moonbeam struck his face, reflecting off a pair of spectacles. "You can stare at me all you want," said the foreboding figure, "but there is nothing that you can do anymore."
Raising his arm, the evil Queen of the Negacrats pointed toward Sailor Taft, the right index finger glowing. At first it was dim, but the light grew stronger and stronger. Sailor Taft feared that his battle was to end before it even began.
"Not so fast!"
The Queen, distracted, looked toward the source of the voice. Before he could react, a large tax code book struck him in the face, the beam of evil energy gathering on his finger firing harmlessly into the air. When Sailor Taft, realizing he wasn't to die that day, turned to see his savior he was startled to see a tall man dressed in a tuxedo, wearing a long top hat and his face obscured by a simple eye mask.
"Who are you?" asked Sailor Taft, standing back up.
"You may call me Tuxedo Abe," the masked figure replied, handing Sailor Taft a single rose.
"This isn't over!" shouted the Queen. "I'll be back, and when I do, there will be no stopping the Negacrats!" And in a puff of bear-shaped smoke, he was gone.
"Thanks for the help, Tuxedo Abe. I don't know what I-" but he was gone. All that Sailor Taft had was the lone rose.
The next day, sitting in the Oval Office, President Taft was barraged by the local press, demanding answers as to what had happened on the roof of the White House and those involved. But Taft had no answer to give, instead spending that day smelling a single rose and thinking of the masked stranger he had seen the night before - and trying not to get stuck in the bath.