In his secret lunar base hidden on the dark side of the moon, Newt Gingrich licks his political wounds and plots yet another unlikely comeback:

NEWT: They called me "unstable," "erratic," "grandiose!" I'll show them! As soon as I've completed my death ray,  I'll decimate the rest of the Republican field! Then they'll have to nominate me! Bwah-ha-ha-ha!

CALLISTA: Oh, Newt, will you quit fiddling around with that death ray gizmo? I'm bored! We haven't been on a Greek cruise in weeks! I've been wearing this spacesuit so long I've developed helmet hair!

NEWT: Patience, my dear, patience. As soon as I've finished soldering this circuit board, we'll stop for some low-gravity sex. Won't that be fun?

CALLISTA (rolling her eyes): I'd rather go to Tiffany's. Why do we have to live on the dark side of the moon, anyway?

NEWT: I got a cheap mortgage from Freddie Mac. Now be quiet, or I'll shut off your oxygen, and you'll be ex-wife number three.

CALLISTA: Wait, there's someone at the airlock! Who can it be? We don't know anyone here on the dark side of the moon.

WATCHER: Greetings, Earthlings! I am the Watcher, a giant, bald-headed alien dedicated to observing your world and its inhabitants. I live next door in the mysterious Blue Zone, so I thought I'd stop over to introduce myself.

NEWT: The Watcher? I think I read about you in the Fantastic Four.  Well, I don't have time to socialize--I'm busy plotting my bloody revenge.

WATCHER: But we have so much in common! We are both massive intellects who happen to look like petulant, overgrown babies. Besides, I thought your campaign was dead after Florida.

NEWT: I've come back from the dead more often than Dr. Doom. Now get out of here before I have you deported.

WATCHTER: Deported?

NEWT: As far as I'm concerned, the Moon is U.S. territory, which means you're an illegal alien.

WATCHER: But I've been here for millennia observing your primitive species evolve on your insignificant mudball of a planet!

NEWT: Do you have any grandchildren? Do you belong to any church groups?

WATCHER: Of course not! I am pledged never to interfere, only to observe.

NEWT:  Then I'm afraid I can't make an exception. And that pious "pledged never to interfere" baloney won't work either. There's a war on against global Islamic Jihadist fascism--choose a side!

WATCHER:  The Watcher does not "choose sides!" The Watcher observes!

NEWT: Typical spineless European socialist elitist. Didn't you learn anything from the war? Appeasement doesn't work. As Winston Churchill said, "a house divided against itself cannot stand."

WATCHER: That was Abraham Lincoln. You're confusing the Civil War with World War II. I thought you were an historian.

NEWT: I'll give you history. "The winners write the history books." Adolph Hitler said that.

Gingrich zaps the Watcher with his death ray.

WATCHER: Aarrrgh!

NEWT: It works! Now to just plug in Romney's coordinates. Mr. Job Creator is in for some real creative destruction. In the meantime, Callista, could you do something with the body? The last thing we need is a giant, bald-headed alien corpse stinking up the place.

CALLISTA: Uh, Newt, there's someone else at the airlock--

NEWT: If it's Ron Paul, tell him it's too late to drop out and endorse me.

CALLISTA: I don't think it's Ron Paul. He's a little taller--

GALACTUS: I AM GALACTUS, THE DEVOUER OF WORLDS! HE WHOSE HUNGER CAN NEVER BE SATIATED! AND I DON'T LIKE WHAT YOU DID TO MY OLD FRIEND, THE WATCHER. WE MAY NOT HAVE ALWAYS SEEN EYE TO EYE, BUT WE WERE FELLOW COSMIC BEINGS. PREPARE TO DIE!

CALLISTA: Oh, dear Lord, this is what comes from fooling around with a married man! Please, Jesus, save me and I promise never to do it again.

NEWT: Relax, dear. If I could work with Nancy Pelosi, I can work with anyone.  Hey, big fellow, I've been looking for a running mate. You're much more impressive than Marco Rubio.  How'd you like to be my Veep?

GALACTUS: INSOLENT WORM! YOU DARE BARGAIN WITH GALACTUS? BUT YOU HAVE GIVEN ME AN IDEA. I NEED A NEW HERALD TO SEARCH FOR LIVING PLANETS FOR ME TO FEAST UPON. THE SILVER SURFER HAS GONE INDY. PREPARE YOURSELF, MORTALS, FOR TRANSFIGURATION!

Sometime later...

NEWT (in the form of a man-size silver-plated baby): Okay, so I didn't get to be President of the United States. At least I've got this swell surfboard.

CALLISTA (in the form of a silver-plated surfboard): Oh, shut the hell up and keep searching.