The Wrath of the Undertaker

Dash Kwiatkowski, contributor

Agent: Mr. President, we’re here to warn you about the greatest threat our nation has ever faced.

President: Is this about ISIS?

 

Agent: No… the Undertaker, sir.

President: I’m sorry, the Undertaker?  The pro wrestler?

 

Agent: That’s right.  He’s gone mad with power, and now he’s chokeslamming everyone, sir.  Chokeslamming them to hell.

President: Now, forgive me, I thought that pro wrestling was fake … or scripted.

 

Agent: Tell that to the Vice President, sir.  Oh you can’t. He’s in hell.

President: I thought The Undertaker was just a tough biker guy.

 

Agent: Good God, sir, that was just his persona in the late 90s/Early 2000s. He’s long since returned to his ways of Dark Wizardry and now he’s chokeslamming everyone he can find … to hell.

President: Well what have we sent to stop him?

 

Agent: We’ve sent in the Marines.

President: And?

 

Agent: Chokeslammed to hell.

President: Damn. What else?

 

Agent: Fighter Jets.

President: And Fighter Jets couldn’t take him down?

 

Agent: He chokeslammed those to hell too, sir.

President: Have we gone nuclear?

 

Agent: Any and all nukes we’ve sent against the Undertaker have been chokeslammed to hell, sir.

President: Good God. Well, is there anyone who can defeat him?

 

Agent: Dave Batista.

President: Great, let’s get him.

 

Agent: We can’t sir, he’s too busy doing films to wrestle.

President: Wasn’t he in The Man With the Iron Fists? That movie was terrible.

 

Agent: Of course it was, sir.  But have you seen Guardians of the Galaxy?  That was a delightful romp.

President: Damn. Well, is there anything else that can defeat him?

 

Agent: Well, it’s possible for someone to defeat him in an Inferno match.

President: That’s too dangerous! Won’t the flames burn anyone who steps outside of the ring?

 

Agent: Actually, sir, the flames are angled so as not to injure anyone seriously, in spite of their apparent danger.

President: Well then set one up. Can we get Macho Man?

 

Agent: Dead, sir.

President: Chris Benoit?

 

Agent: Dead.

President: Hollywood Hulk Hogan?

 

Agent: He won’t help us, sir; he’s a bad guy.

President: How about John Cena?

 

Agent: Sorry sir, but I can’t support a plan involving John Cena.

President: Is he dead, or evil, or busy doing movies?

 

Agent: No, sir. He’s just really, really lame.

President: Then God help us all.

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