Long Live the Revolution!

Who: Cerebrum, Trisees.
Where: research lab.
>"Are you sure you want to take that risk, because if you are, then
> I'm happy to go ahead with the operation," explained Trisees. He
> look worriedly at Cerebrum, who looked passive.
"Mr Trisees," I happen to think that I'm Napoleon on a weekly basis.
Trust me, that would be no problem," Cerebrum said in the second most
erroneous statement that day. "This is going to go off perfectly."
Which was the first.
Ten minutes later
Cerebrum and Trisees were hooked into the machine, with Cerebrum
sitting at the control board at Trisees sitting in a chair that
resembled a twentieth century electric chair. There was a third,
empty chair with a variety of cannons pointing at it.
"What's this thing called?" Trisees asked, looking around.
Speaking as he worked on the controls, Cerebrum replied, "Well, from
what I got off of the translator, the real name is five hundred
letters long and completely unpronounable. I call it Bill."
"Bill?"
"Yes, it's nice to personalize things occasionally, don't you think?
Now, get ready, I'm about to initialize the machine," Cerebrum said,
punching a button.
The large device in the center of the room rose up and hummed
omniously. Then arcs of electricity shot out of it, connecting with
Trisee's and Cerebrum's forehead, and with a cannons pointing at the
third chair. The cannons also started glowing, as genetic information
and memory information was sent into them.
The enormous power drain set up various chain reactions about the
base. All of the doors suddenly slammed open, and stayed that way.
Various pieces of alien technology melted. A large arc of electricity
struck all of the parts that Jay had been gathering and reduced them
to a molten slag.
Finally, the bolts of electrcity died down, the lights went out and
emergency lights came on. In the third chair, sat a new person.
"Thou impertinent bastard!" cried Shakespeare, "Thou couldest have
killedest all of us, ye who is of the smalleth brain!"
"It's nice to have you back," Cerebrum muttered, then fell forward
onto the control panel and slid onto the floor. When Trisees and
Shakespeare managed to get loose and went over, he had managed to
regain concious.
"Are you okay?" Trisees asked.
"LONG LIVE THE GLORIOUS COMMUNIST REVOLUTION!" shouted V.I. Lenin,
who was occupying Cerebrum's body.