If I was “unhealthy” like my opponent says, could I do this?

[Rips off pantsuit, revealing American flag wrestling singlet.]

All right, Roberto “The Destroyer” Cabrera. Get ready to taste the pain of the American middle class!

[Puts in mouthguard, punches self in the temples a few times, rolls out neck.]

I’ve got 40 years of public service under my belt, bleeding for the American people without once getting thanked. Not ONCE!

And what do I get? My emails scrutinized. My health records requested for no reason. My marriage torn apart in tabloids. I get called a liar, a thief, a crook, and a traitor.

[Crouches down, eyes turn deep red somehow.]

[Opponent starts frantically looking for exit from Octagon.]

And not a single time have I been allowed to take out my frustrations in the form of a fist to some numbnut’s jaw.

[Opponent begins sweating bullets, regrets all life choices.]

Today, you are Trump. Today, you are the Truthers who read all 78,000 of my private emails, that I was up all night writing for decades so that you could stay safe from foreign enemies. Today, you are the bastard columnist who teased my teenage daughter for wearing braces.

Today is your reckoning.

[Opponent begs referee to stop fight.]

[Bell rings.]

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