The winter snow sparkles on the mountaintops of the Asskickshire region, the heart of Facepunchia and the location of it's capital, Badassington. Within the capital, high above the bustling city, Muttonchop Hall -the Facepunchian parliament building- is abuzz with curious reporters and onlookers. If any of them were to get a glimpse into the assembly hall where their politicians gather for their usual meetings, they would be sorely disappointed to find it empty - this is not a usual meeting, and as such it is being conducted far, far underground in the president's nuclear bunker. The president himself sits calmly at the head of a room filled with loudly talking politicians, waiting for the clock to strike and signal the start of the meeting. He nods to his vice-president, who stands-
"THIS MEETING HAS BEGUN." The vice-president's booming voice, a cross between Samuel L. Jackson's and James Earl Jones', fills the hall, and the room of people falls silent. The president nods his thanks and stands.
"Ladies, gentlemen, fellow badasses," he begins. "We have been gathered here today to address the fact that a great bloody extraterrestrial spacecraft is headed straight for us. At this time our scientists have no way of communicating with it, or discovering the alien's motives. Our country is in great danger- no doubt we will be forced to beat the ever-loving crap out of these damned aliens-"
"Sir."
"...and rest assured, it will be a hard fight, but I'm confident once we organize the space marines-"
"Sir, I-"
"...and then the missiles hit and the mother ship will EXPLODE- KABOOOM- and then-"
"SIR!" The president's most trusted advisor stands, speaking in a rough drawl. "Sir, we need t' consider th' option that these aliens ain't jus' comin' here t' kill all've us."
"...But-"
"Sir," the gruff advisor continues, taking off his battered wide brimmed bush hat. "I un'erstan' ya'll 're excited fer this but, we need t' take it slow, a'righ'?"
"Of course, old chap." The president straights his bow tie and regains his composure. "You've all read this document, I hope. The one detailing our defence plans?"
"We have, Mr. President," says the Minister of National Defence. "SAM batteries and anti-air defences will be prepared for installation in ever major city and strategic location. The Navy is beginning their patrols as we speak, and these public bunkers would be completed within the week."
Another person speaks up, this time a military strategist. "We are forced to assume that these extraterrestrials are technologically superior, and so we have decided that until we determine the full range of their technology, we will likely be fighting them with vehicles and artillery in an effort to keep human casualties to a minimum. To do this we will order more tanks, planes and cannons. As well as this, we will begin research on a new high-caliber explosive round for our troops, hopefully to give them a fighting chance."
"Bloody brillant!" Exclaims the president. "Thank you, General Halberd, General Datetoko. And what about-"
"The communication to the other nations and your address to the public? I have them here sir," says Talwar Singh, Facepunchia's chief ambassador.
"Splendid, old boy! Give them here, please. Hmm... I see you've heavily edited my message to the other nations..."
"Well, Mr. President, we thought it would be best to take out all of those colourful words... and include a more diplomatic tone instead of your suggestion to 'open fire on the bastards the second they show their ugly green faces.'"
"Hrrumph. Very well. You know the proper way to address our neighbours, Talwar my old chum." The president turns, addressing the whole room. "Well then! Are we in agreement? We're confident that our people can handle this news without us having complete societal collapse on our hands? This is the course we will take?"
The room of politicians responds with agreement, some reluctantly. The president nods, stroking his mustache thoughtfully, before addressing the room once again.
"My fellow Facepunchians! You have served as my ministers, advisors, and officials for many a year, and I promise you that I will not let your loyalty go to waste. I will not fail you, and neither will your country. Our great nation will survive this, no matter how high the odds. Our people are known throughout the world for being men and women of action, who are always ready to fight for freedom and badassery! Whenever someone has had the gonads to threaten our way of life, we've sent them home crying. By Jove, there's never been a nation better suited to fight a bloody horde of invading aliens then the country of Facepunchia! The president chuckles, speaking to his trusted vice-president as the room cheers. "I wouldn't be surprised, old friend, if most of our citizens would be disappointed to find these chaps are peaceful."
"You may be right Thaddeus,' says Vice-President Hardass. "But what if they aren't peaceful, what if they declare all-out war? What if we fail and no amount of Facepunchian badassery or sheer Human will to survive will stop our destruction?"
"If that's the case, my killjoy chum," responds the president, nudging his old friend in the ribs. "We'll have to make sure these alien chaps will remember the Human race. We'll make sure they shudder and curse the very name."
"I just hope it doesn't come to that..." The vice-president sighs, before going to yell at the cultural advisor to stop shooting his guns into the air.