Seperated at birth, Mary Todd Lincoln and John Wilkes Booth were identical twins. Booth, who went on to become a failed southern actor, went down in history as the man who shot Abraham Lincoln. Meanwhile, Mary Todd Lincoln, who was raised by a savage pack of wolves that resemble Ted Nugent, actually did kill President Lincoln.
It wasn't discovered until nineteen "ot" two, when President Lincoln's body was exhumed from his grave at Disney world underneath Space Mountain, which was then called "Really Way Up in the Cloudy Blue Sky" Mountain, because space hadn't been invented until the late 50s by a corrupt semi-communist government led by Demitri Shostacrotchtakovovitch and Genghis Khan. Incidently, Shostacrotchtakovovitch was later discovered to be nothing more than a talking Jell-o mold, and was quickly eaten by a baby Rush Limbaugh, who at the time was as big as the moon.
In the hopes of destroying this threat, Ben Stein and his gang of vile space mutants reanimated the corpse of Abraham Lincoln, which had been laying idle in the oval office for about 50 years. Along with Lincoln, Stein resurrected Mary Queen of Scots, just so Lincoln wouldn't get bored and would also have an outlet for his presidential "mack." As it turned out, Lincoln was a bad choice for destroying a large mutant baby, as he instead ran off with Jennifer Love Hewitt, who claimed he was her manager.
It was then up to Tom Green, who knew the baby's only weakness: talking Jell-o molds. Green, aware that young Limbaugh had already injested one, sat back and watched as the baby began to disintigrate into a sniveling puddle of ooze that somewhat resembled Harrison Ford. The world was safe once again, or was it?
Anyway, back to Mary Todd. Being raised by wolves, she was ugly and not very pretty. However, she was strong as an ox. I mean it, she smelled awful! President Lincoln, out one morning chopping down a cherry tree with George Washington's wooden teeth, as was the style of the time, began to notice the faint smell of ram's blood filling the artificially purified White House air. As he turned around, he could feel a chill running down his spine, as his impending doom descended upon him.
Before him stood his wife, or at least what used to be. In reality, Mary Todd Lincoln had transformed into the beast she had been brought up to be, and, being such, lunged forward at the President. Abraham was quick to defend himself with the wrestling moves he learned from Captain Kirk in that one episode of "Star Trek" he was in. You had to have seen it, it was a good one. Combining Tai-kwan-do with a style that can only be described as pure, unrelenting madness, the Commander-in-Chief used Washington's teeth as a diabolical weapon, but to no avail. Mary Todd was armed with a broken whiskey bottle she had removed from a comatose Ulysses S. Grant, and easily defeated the unprepared Abraham.
Satisfied with her kill, it was now up to Mary Todd, covered with blood and entrails, to fool the American public into thinking that the President was alive and well, at least until his term ended. After patching up Abraham's wounds, Mrs. Lincoln began to devise a scheme that was eerily reminiscent of "Weekend at Bernie's," which was a stupid movie, so we won't go into any more detail on that subject.
Having fooled the President's advisors for a couple weeks or so, Mary Todd decided to spend a night at the theatre, and dressed the corpse of her husband in his finest clothes, which was very hard to do because he had undergone some major rigor mortis, so she gave up about halfway through. Luckily, no one questioned Abe's particular fashion choices for that evening, namely no shirt, no shoes, pants down to his knees, and his trademark top hat, because he was from Kentucky. And so it was off to the theatre.
During one of the more boring parts of the play, John Wilkes Booth took a bathroom break, and on the way back decided that it would be neat to shoot the President in the back of the head at close range, so he made his way up to the balcony. He crept up the stairs, slowly at first, then quickly, then slowly again, as creeping is best done at a slow pace. Eventually, he arrived in the balcony, looked at the people, scratched his head in pensive thought, and then realizing which one was Abraham Lincoln, he quickly took aim and fired.
As the shot rang through the theatre, awakening the terminally bored audience, Booth took a running leap out of the balcony, did a triple sommersault, crash landed on the stage, yelled "I'VE GOT A BIG MONKEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and hobbled away to a standing ovation, but not before Mary Todd could get a good look at the smiley face tattoo on his forehead, a family birthmark which she also bore.
She then put two and two together, and immediately got four. Then she realized that Booth was her long-lost twin brother, and began to jump up and down for joy, creating confusion to all those gathered around over the body of President Lincoln, who they thought needed immediate medical attention. Mary Todd began to correct them, but realized it was better to let them think he had died from the gunshot rather than from her mauling.
Some time passed before word got back to Mary Todd that John Wilkes Booth had bene killed in a grease fire, and the shock was too much for her to bear. After just finding her brother, she now learned of his painful, screaming death in that unneccessarily large inferno. Stricken with grief, Mary Todd Lincoln had no choice but to eat herself, and though it was sad and painful, she found that she tasted pretty good, though perhaps a tad overcooked, and she could have used a little salt, but it was fine nonetheless. And so, the world was rid of its greatest evil. That is, until Fred Durst was born.
A century later, Abraham Lincoln demanded revenge, and so with the help of Ben Stein, who, as you may recall, so brilliantly reanimated the President, he began to search for the direct descendant of his vile spouse. Lasting several years, the search was exhausting and seemed futile, until one day when a mysterious singing telegram arrived, revealing the particular individual that Lincoln and Stein had been searching for, the person whose Lincoln could swear vengeance upon. That person was none other than Fred Durst.
Durst, who spent his summers bathing in reservoirs all over the country to give them that hot dog flavor that everyone's heard far too much about, was easily taken by surprise as President Lincoln ambushed him from the shadows, beating the Limp Bizkit frontman with Steve Guttenburg, because, let's face it, there's not much else use for him.
However, Durst was not defenseless, and began winging chocolate starfishes at Abe, which had little effect because the chocolate was half-melted and only distracted Durst from the silent approach of LL Cool J, who quickly took down his victim with his Shark Fin Hat. Why he had a Shark Fin Hat, we'll never know, but he did, and there's nothing to be done about it now. Immediately, Lincoln rushed over and began to kick Durst until he died, releasing the world from his maniacal grasp, allowing Limp Bizkit to produce truly unique and innovative music, and freeing us all.
Abraham Lincoln. Truly the greatest President in the history of the United States. Truly a hero to all peoples, great and small. Truly an inspiration to us all.
To summarize, the moral of this insane rambling is this: never trust anyone who does anything eerily reminscent of "Weekend at Bernie's." That movie was stupid.
The End.