Four score and seven years ago… what’s that? It was only two years ago? Judges can we get a ruling? It was definitely two?
Fine.
Two years ago, we wrote about what would happen if the deadliest Presidents in US history faced off against one another. It wasn’t pretty.
Now, we’ve come back to bring you:
Presidential Deathmatch 2: THIS Time It’s Personal
President Theodore Roosevelt lays his ax down on the ground, and looks to the sky. Even though we can’t hear what’s coming, he can. And it’s a big ol’ helicopter. He sighs. I’ve always known he’d come for me. He thinks to himself. But for once in his incredible (after) life, he’s wrong. Someone is coming for him, but it isn’t who he thinks. Suddenly, the roaring of a helicopters blades can be heard and it comes into our view.
Riding shotgun is President William McKinley. Roosevelt gives a sigh of relief, momentarily happy that his foe isn’t after him like he originally thought. But then he frowns. If McKinley is coming it can only mean one thing… they’ve come back. But that should be impossible, we killed them all, and not just the men, but the women and children too. The chopper lands and McKinley comes out. “Teddy” he says nodding to his former Vice President.
“Mick” President Roosevelt replies.
“We need you to come in”
Roosevelt pauses before answering. He knows how serious the situation must be if McKinley came all this way, but he gave up that life a long time ago.
“I’m retired, I gave up that life a long time ago”
McKinley sighs. Always so dramatic. He thinks to himself.
“It’s an emergency, you know that, otherwise I wouldn’t even be here.”
Teddy knows this of course, but he’s still hesitant to accept any mission McKinley brings him.
Especially after the last time.
A flashback starts, but Teddy shakes his head quickly rooting himself back in reality.
For a moment neither man speaks.
“I’ll do it”, Teddy mutters, softly.
McKinley nods, he had always known Roosevelt would do it.
Meanwhile…
In a dark secluded lair we hear a man laughing as he watches the helicopter carrying Roosevelt and McKinley fly away. The deep guttural growl of a horrible monster is heard.
Aboard the helicopter McKinley is briefing Roosevelt on the events that have transpired since he left the world.
“It all started 3 months ago when Bigfoot sightings started skyrocketing all throughout the Rocky Mountains. At first we thought it was just hoaxers ramping up their activities, but then the attacks began.”
Teddy is visibly shaken by this news.
“That’s impossible!” he yells over the roar of the rotors, “I killed them all myself!”
McKinley nods.
“I know. That’s why its gotta be HIS doing.”
Teddy is even more alarmed at this news.
McKinley smiles grimly.
“You beat him once, you can do it again.”
“I know I can, but this time, I’ll need help.”
McKinley smiles again, but this time its a happy one.
The helicopter descends onto a platform, and waiting for them is a crack team of Presidents.
Ronald Reagan, Harry Truman, and Ulysses S. Grant stand ready for the mission they know they are about to undertake.
Teddy disembarks and shakes each man’s hand before turning to McKinley, “They’re not enough.”
All three are outraged, but none more so than Grant.
“I won the Civil War, I am more than qualified to help you kill marauding beasts!”
Roosevelt looks to Grant, but really addresses the three of them, and McKinley.
“You’re all incredible men, and normally I’d be happy that you serve on my team. But when I say you aren’t enough, you aren’t enough. This is a mission for The Hall.”
The assembled Presidents gasp in shock and horror.
Reagan regains his composure first and says,
“Mr. Roosevelt take us to The Hall”.
Meanwhile…
We see a tan, handsome man sprinting threw the woods.
Someone, or something chases after him.
McKinley, Reagan and Roosevelt stand outside The Hall of Fictional Presidents, Truman and Grant got bored and wandered off once they realized they wouldn’t be part of the mission anymore.
“You see Ron we’re constrained by the strings of reality, while these Presidents know no such restrictions, that’s why I need them to help me destroy the Bigfoot menace once and for all.”
Reagan nods in agreement.
“Besides,” Teddy continues, “I could never kill JFK, maybe one of them will be able to do it for me.”
Reagan and McKinley look at each other somberly, not only had Roosevelt spoken the name they’d all dreaded speaking allowed, he’d confirmed the fact they’d all be silently fearing.
The fall of JFK had hurt every President. The man who was supposed to be the best of them had become an evil shell of his former self. And it all stemmed from that deadly, disastrous incident at the East Wing, all those years ago.
The three men looked to one another, for hope, for courage, and for reassurance, and enter The Hall of Fictional Presidents.
McKinley, Reagan, and Roosevelt make their way into The Hall of Fictional Presidents, a beautiful citadel where fictional Presidents live and do their thing.
“As I’m sure you can imagine, this is going to be a precision op, so we’re only looking for two of these crazy bastards. President James Marshall, and President Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho.” Teddy says as his confidently strides ahead of his compatriots.
McKinley and Reagan exchange a nervous glance behind him. If Roosevelt is trying to recruit these two, the mission must be more crazy than even they knew.
As they walk, McKinley exposi-fills in Reagan about Roosevelt’s tumultuous past with Bigfoot.
“As you know Ron, Teddy was an avid hunter, but more than that, he was someone who truly cared about nature, a conservationist.”
He pauses letting Reagan digest the information, before continuing.
“During his many adventures, Teddy of course came across signs of the existence of Bigfoot, and he heard stories of how dangerous there interactions with humans could be. He created protected Federal Lands as a means to prevent these interactions. When that failed he was forced to resort to more drastic measures. Numerous attempts to relocate the creatures failed, and so finally Teddy decided that the entire species had to be exterminated.”
Reagan lets out a startled cry at this news, causing Roosevelt to spin around briefly, and for McKinley to angrily shush him.
“He didn’t come to this decision lightly, you understand? It caused him great anguish, but for the good of humanity it had to be done. After leaving office he was able to ferry all the known Bigfoot population into the forests of Washington, Idaho, and Montana. He then orchestrated the Great Fire of 1910 and destroyed the entire species. But now, all these years later… they’ve come back.”
“That’s about enough from you two” Roosevelt suddenly proclaims, startling both McKinley and Reagan.
Presidents James Marshall and Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho emerge from a surrounding street looking dejected.
“How did you know we were following you?” Marshall asks, an amused smile on his face.
“The better question is how did you think I wouldn’t know? Camacho is the size of a bear, of course I saw the pair of you tailing us!”
Camacho gives a sheepish smile. “ITS GOOD TO SEE YOU TEDDY!” He exclaims before wrapping Roosevelt in a bear hug.
McKinley and Reagan stand awkwardly behind the three. After a moment Marshall notices them and nods.
“This must be serious.” he says to Roosevelt.
“We’ve come with a mission,” he pauses clearly pained by what he’s about to say, “we have to kill John F. Kennedy.”
In a mansion a man sits in a very comfortable chair. His back to us, but an “I like Ike” sign is visible on his mantle.
Roosevelt, Marshall and Camacho sit in a large transportation aircraft. Marshall and Camacho on one side, Roosevelt on the other.
Reagan and McKinley are back at their base camp, serving as advisors and overwatch for the trio.
“Best we can tell Kennedy is holed up in Roswell, New Mexico.” Roosevelt informs his compatriots.
“So we’re gonna grab him from his compound and force him to make his army of Bigfoot surrender, where we will then relocate them to Mt. Everest. The only issue is both Kennedy, and the Bigfoot army hate me.”
“That’s quite the problem Teddy! Why don’t we just kill Kennedy on sight? Surely the arm-” Marshall begins, before being interrupted by Roosevelt.
“No, if we kill Kennedy the Bigfoot population will be without a leader and we’d have to massacre them again-“
“THAT WOULD BE BAD!!!” Camacho puts in.
Roosevelt smiles. “Exactly my friend. So that’s why we have to take Kennedy alive and convince him to see things our way.”
“We’re over the drop site now, you three need to bail in one minute.” Reagan chimes in over the radio.
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Marshall says as they jump out into the night.
Roosevelt, Marshall and Camacho land outside of Roswell without incident. They then tactically make their way towards JFK’s compound hoping to remain undetected.
Unfortunately their plans go awry when Marshall inadvertently triggers an alarm with a frequency only Bigfoot can hear.
“THIS IS GOING REALLY WELL SO FAR!” Camacho whispers shouts to his comrades, only to be immediately tackled by a massive Bigfoot as soon as the words leave his mouth.
As the two begin fighting, another three charge Roosevelt and Marshall who begin fighting back.
Roosevelt draws a large knife and attacks the largest of the three, while Marshall draws his duel Colt 1911s and begins shooting an absolutely unreasonable number of times at the creatures.
Camacho successfully defeats his adversary, but is immediately attacked by three more of the creatures.
Meanwhile the Bigfoot Roosevelt has been dealing with draws a sword of its own and begins to fight him sword to knife. Roosevelt holds his own with the creature but is eventually forced into a vulnerable position. Just when all seems lost Marshall shoots the monster in the head, killing it.
Marshall isn’t given too much time to gloat over saving Roosevelt’s life however because as he’s about to thank him, Roosevelt notices an absolute mammoth of a Bigfoot about to destroy Marshall.
Roosevelt throws his knife with incredible accuracy and catches it in the heart, killing it instantly.
Camacho joins them, and they begin to make their way up a hill towards the heart of the compound when they find themselves surrounded by dozens of Bigfoot, with more arriving by the second.
Roosevelt shrugs his Winchester Rifle off his back, Marshall reloads his Colts, and Camacho has an MKG all of a sudden.
The trio go back, to back, to back, and begin mowing down the Bigfoot as they charge.
For ten minutes they hold out, never needing to refill their ammunition, but suddenly they all run out because the plot demands they be captured.
“I’m out!” Shouts Marshall as he begin a futile attempt to engage the Bigfoot army in hand to hand combat.
“ME TOO!” chimes in Camacho as he is overwhelmed by the creatures.
Roosevelt isn’t given the chance to reply as he is knocked out by a Bigfoot who had taken advantage of the gap in their defenses.
Back at HQ Reagan is totally dismayed by the unfolding of events.
“We’ve got to get there and help them!” he tells McKinley.
But McKinley just grins and shoots Reagan in the chest.
Reagan attempts to question McKinley, to confront him and gain closure in his final moments, but he is unable to let out more than a gurgle.
“What’s that Great Communicator?” McKinley asks him mockingly. “At a loss for words? So much for being the best Republican President. “
He lets out an evil laugh before walking away saying, “Things are going exactly as planned.”
Meanwhile, Roosevelt, Marshall and Camacho have come to, and find themselves in a jail cell, clearly in JFK’s compound.
“Why are we alive right now?” Marshall asks “What sick tortures does Kennedy have in store for us?”
“You’d be surprised.” A voice lets out startling them all.
In the cell across from them is John F. Kennedy.
Camacho lets out a startled gasp.
“WHY ARE YOU IN YOUR OWN JAIL CELL WHEN WE CAME HERE TO PUT YOU IN A JAIL CELL!!!???”
Roosevelt puts it together first.
“This whole thing has been a trap” he says “Someone must have wanted you and I here but who?”
Before he can finish his thought McKinley walks into the dungeon and begins chuckling.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE MCKINLEY YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE OUR FRIEND!!!???”
“Oh shut up you idiot” McKinley says before shooting both Camacho and Marshall in the head, killing them both.
“NOOOO!” Roosevelt shouts, as he leaps up.
“Get in here and fight me man to man you sick son of a bitch! I’ll rip you apart!”
“Oh I’ve no doubt of that Teddy.” McKinley replies mockingly.
“Wait, I get why you’d want to kill him, he was your VP, but after you died he absolutely overshadowed you, but why am I here?”
Suddenly, McKinley’s voice changes.
“You know why you’re here.”
“I think it’s pretty clear he doesn’t.” Roosevelt puts in.
“But he does.”
McKinley then removes his face, revealing his true identity.
Richard Nixon.
“Hello Dick.” John F. Kennedy says clearly aware of why Nixon captured him.
“You see Teddy” Nixon says, beginning the obligatory monologue, “your friend JFK was always the monster he became after that fight in the bar. It just took him a little longer to reveal it to everyone. See, one night, shortly after the infamous Cuban Missile Crisis, JFK, Castro, McNamara, and I were meeting when zombies attacked. Despite holding them off for waves and waves, we were eventually overwhelmed and he left me to die.”
“Which you clearly didn’t” Roosevelt helpfully points out.
“Of course I didn’t! I am impeccably strong, and incredibly smart!”
“Absolutely” Kennedy cuts in, “Which begs the question, why didn’t you just kill me when you had the chance? And why involve Roosevelt at all?”
Nixon appears confused.
“Yes, why did I do that? It would have been easier to kill you both. But why would I be after Teddy? Oh yes he told me people think Roosevelt was a better Republican President than I.”
Nixon is clearly unhinged.
“Who is He, Dick?” Kennedy asks, rousing Nixon from his confusion.
“I am HE! I came up with this plan to capture you myself, nobody else. Now that I have you, I’m going to kill you!”
He draws a gun and cocks it back.
Kennedy looks to Roosevelt and nods.
It’s a complicated nod, one that lets Teddy know that he forgives him for everything, and that he loves him, the way two men can love each other, and still have wives, and children, and connecting pools.
Roosevelt returns the nod, a solitary tear pooled in his eye.
Nixon aims his gun at Kennedy’s head, ready to kill him, when a knife sprouts from his chest.
He body falls away to reveal the true, final culprit.
Andrew Jackson.
Kennedy and Roosevelt are both well and truly shook by the latest turn of events. Both men had seen Jackson die, felled by Roosevelt’s own hands, in that terrible brawl in the East Wing, all those years ago.
Jackson smiles, wickedly and cruelly to his peers.
“Hello gentleman. It takes men made of sterner stuff than the two of you to kill me. You see after you two left the bar that night, I woke up with an unbearable ache in my head, but worse than that, an unbearable ache for revenge in my heart.”
“You ended up how you did because you started a deadly brawl between Presidents, and in your bloodlust you attacked me, your friend! Now you’ve killed who knows how many of us on your petty quest for vengeance, when the ones who need avenging are your victims!” An outraged Roosevelt cries out.
“Oh dearest Teddy, I know exactly how many I’ve killed. Washington, Hoover, that fool McKinley, Reagan, Nixon, even those two fake Presidents there. And I relished their deaths. Now, I’ll kill the two of you…”
He pauses dramatically before continuing.
“But unlike the two of you, I am civilized, so I’ll give you a sporting chance. Teddy, you love hunting, and since that’ll make for cooler action than some convoluted plot involving Kennedy seducing women, only to end up murdered, I’ve decided to hunt you both down. But, I’m not a monster, so I’ll let you both use your favored weapons. Teddy you get a really big stick, and Kennedy you can have a microphone to give nice speeches as the two of you die.”
Kennedy and Roosevelt say nothing, angry looks on their faces.
“Take them to the maze.” Jackson says to an unseen henchBigfoot, and a group of the creatures come to force them to the hunting ground.
Roosevelt and Kennedy are escorted to a maze that will serve as the hunting ground. There is an absolutely staggering amount of Bigfoot around, so any hopes of escape are gone.
Jackson stands by a wooden table, just outside the entrance to the maze.
On the table there is a heavy, solid cane, and a standard microphone.
Jackson smiles smugly. “Gentleman, your weapons.”
He gestures for them to take them.
“Now, because I’m such a good sport, I will give you a three minute head start, starting now. Good luck.”
Roosevelt and Kennedy grab their weapons and take off running into the maze. After the first turn they are approached by ten Bigfoot who take off after them.
Winding through the maze, with the Bigfoot hot on their tails the two reach a dead end, and get into their fighting stance.
Suddenly, the musical duo Eurythmics appears and begin performing their hit song “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)”, as Roosevelt and Kennedy begin to face down the now staggering swarm of Bigfoot.
Kennedy despite being armed only with a microphone is doing surprisingly well as a result of being deprived from having sex for weeks due to his captivity. He is felling the creatures quickly and effectively.
His success is due in part to the hoard focusing the majority of their attention on the hated Roosevelt, who is whacking them destructively with his big stick.
Right as the song finishes, Roosevelt and Kennedy defeat the swarm of Bigfoot, and their bodies riddle the clearing.
But then Jackson appears and shoots Roosevelt in the leg, grievously wounding him.
Kennedy charges Jackson and the two engage in single combat, but Kennedy is no match for Jackson and it shows.
Jackson looks like Rocky Balboa out there, taking an incredible amount of blows from Kennedy, but delivering absolutely crushing body blows of his own.
Kennedy falls to his knees, a bloodied mess of his former glory.
Jackson cocks his gun once more, ready to end this finally, when he hears music playing in the background.
“Revvin’ up your engine, listen to your howling roar…”
At the very moment that all hope seems lost Ronald Reagan comes barreling through the maze in a red, white and blue Mustang, revolver in hand, with Kenny Loggins riding shotgun, and his hit song “Danger Zone” blaring through the speakers.
Jackson dives out of the way, just barely avoiding being hit and makes his escape through the maze.
The grievously wounded Kennedy carries the now passed out Roosevelt into the back of Reagan’s Mustang.
“Thanks for the assistance Mr. President, Kenny Loggins.” he says nodding to Kenny Loggins.
“It was my pleasure Mr. President.” Reagan says, before peeling out into the sunset, and cranking up “Danger Zone” on his radio.
Highkey Obsessed 