“Mister President?” Hawkins called out, but there was no answer. He drew his gun. Hawkins wanted to charge to the President’s room, but instinct told him to move quietly and slowly. When he reached the Oval Office, it was empty, but a piece of paper was stuck to the wall by a shuriken. On the paper was the symbol of the DragonNinja clan. The country’s worst fears had been realized.
“President Ronnie has been kidnapped by the ninjas. Are you a bad enough dude to rescue Ronnie?”
The two street toughs in black tank tops, Blade and Striker, sat at the kitchen table holding their coffees as they stared bleary-eyed at the man in sunglasses with a blonde crewcut who stood before them. “Wait, who are you?” Blade finally asked.
“I’m Agent Hawkins of the Secret Service,” the man explained. “I was told you two are the baddest dudes around, and I need to know right away whether you’re bad enough dudes to rescue Ronnie from ninjas.”
Striker raised an eyebrow. “Ronnie? Do you mean President Ronald Reagan?”
“Oh man,” Blade exclaimed. “I voted for him.”
“Of course,” Hawkins said. “You wouldn’t be bad dudes if you voted for Mondale.”
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