Hello, I’m presidential candidate Hillary Clinton. It has come to my attention that dominant women’s MMA fighter “Rowdy” Ronda Rousey has endorsed my main opponent for the Democratic nomination, Bernie Sanders. To that end, I would just like to say: Please, for the love of God, I do not want to fight Ronda Rousey.
I beg of you, don’t make me do it.
There are many reasons I do not wish to fight Ms. Rousey, for whom I have a great deal of respect. Chief among these is that I’m very scared of her. After watching several YouTube videos highlighting her incredibly violent prowess in the Ultimate Fighting Championship octagon, it has become abundantly clear that I would likely die or be grievously injured almost instantaneously during either a sanctioned bout with Ms. Rousey or during an unsanctioned street fight. I am, after all, 68 years old, and I have had some health problems in the past. These very real physical concerns aside, however, the main thing to remember here is that I am very, very scared of Ronda Rousey; terrified, really, to the point of immobility when I even consider having to fight her.
I understand that it is natural for the American public to expect such a fight considering Ms. Rousey’s recent endorsement of my opponent. But it’s important to understand that I don’t care because I do not want to fight her at all, and no one can make me. But I can promise you this—I will cry and scream and yell and lock myself in my house if someone tries to.
You can’t make me do it. I won’t do it.
What do you want from me? Do you want me to withdraw from the race? Fine, I withdraw from the race, effective immediately. You can be president, Bernie Sanders or whoever else—I don’t care anymore. I will do literally anything to not have to fight Ronda Rousey. Anything. Do you want to know stuff? Is that what you want? How about this: I knew Benghazi was going to happen. I knew about it the whole time, and I did nothing to stop it. There—happy? That’s not even true, and I said it. Is it enough so I don’t have to get pummeled to death by this terrifying woman? What else? Do you want my emails? I’ll make public every single email I’ve ever sent in my entire life. Just please, please, please don’t make me fight her.
I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything more to say about this, and I have a flight to catch. I’m going someplace far, far away for awhile, out of this country, and probably forever. Don’t bother looking for me, Ronda Rousey, or anyone else—you’ll never, ever find me.