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The answer is OBVIOUSLY a head-to-head battle royale on the greatest athletic competition TV show of all time. I’m talking about American Gladiators. And not the bullshit revival version. I’m talking pure 1990s magic.

Big hair.
Big muscles.
Larry Csonka and his unironic moustache.

csonka

Looking for transparency in government? I got you. Let’s get rid of these stodgy, boring suits and get Hillz and Donny into some spandex singlets, where there are truly no secrets and nowhere to hide.

  • Let’s see who really has stamina. Let’s see who really has the right temperament to take on the world’s superpowers, you know, like Nitro, Laser, Ice, and the gang.
  • How badly do you really want to be leader of the free world? Here, hop into this metal orb cage and smash into each other as you dominate the Atlasphere.
  • What’s your stance on gun control? Nukes? Drones? And are you ready to be Commander in Chief? Let’s find out, as you run from obstacle to obstacle, shooting weapons as three bushels of tennis balls whiz at your bare skin at 100 miles per hour. That’s Assault, brother.
  • And if that’s not enough, there’s an event so decisive, it is literally called The Eliminator.

Debates only test the message discipline of a candidate. I need to see how you move on a cargo net. All this talk about walls — let me see you climb over one when Gemini is on the other side. I need to see you in close hand-to-hand combat with someone who consumes your weight in protein on the daily.

Fuck an election. American Gladiators is the whole damn game.

Kelaine Conochan

The editor-in-chief of this magazine, who should, in all honesty, be a gym teacher. Don’t sleep on your plucky kid sister.

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