Tom Brady, minion of Mordor, delivers Super Bowl ring to Dark Lord Sauron

Tom Brady, gazing upon his master with unhinged admiration, can't
help but wonder why the Great Eye isn't wearing any Patriots swag.  

MORDOR – Tom Brady, famed quarterback of the New England Patriots and a top lieutenant to Dark Lord Sauron, just minutes after winning Super Bowl LIII began the grueling, days-long journey by horseback to deliver the coveted Super Bowl ring to his master in Mordor, the sinister realm at the outer reaches of Middle Earth.

Brady, a six-time champion of the National Football League, made haste from Mercedes-Benz Stadium immediately upon defeating the Los Angeles Rams on Sunday evening — forgoing the traditional displays of jubilant disbelief, long, tearful hugs shared among family members, and media interviews replete with iterations of “I just want to thank God” — in order to kneel before the Great Eye and present him with the Ring of Power.

“Seeing the look of pure, unadulterated joy in my master’s eye when I held the One Ring before him in my open palm felt better than any Gatorade showers from Belichick or victory blowies I could have received from Gisele,” said Brady, laughing maniacally and tilting his head upward toward the blackened sky, thick with volcanic ash, as he unleashed a guttural, pulsing growl in the fashion of the Uruk-hai.

Sauron, a colossal, lidless eye ensconced in flame and stationed atop the Tower of Barad Dur, nestled in the threatening shadow of Mount Doom, coveted the Super Bowl’s chief prize beyond all else, believing it to be the One Ring of Power that would finally bestow him with the necessary life force to retake physical form and crush the inhabitants of Middle Earth into subservience and despair.

The omnipotent harbinger of death believed Brady to be his best chance to recover the jewel, according to sources familiar with the Great Eye, who guaranteed the 41-year-old QB a starting position in the NFL indefinitely, regardless of the inexorable decay of skill and agility caused by the aging body. Brady agreed enthusiastically, without the glimpse of a second thought or even the slightest hesitation.

As of press time, Sauron, discovering that the ring didn't carry any magical qualities and was in fact just a useless sports trinket, ordered the Ring-wraiths to gut Brady with a Morgul blade and feed his entrails to a Fellbeast.

The Terminator unexpectedly lands job as local bug-zapping exterminator

The T-800 was ecstatic to learn his new employer offers
unlimited vacation days, free snacks and
Margarita Mondays. 

Madison, WI – The T-800, a retired, futuristic cyborg assassin best known as the former Terminator, unexpectedly landed a job at a local pest-control company today, due to what management mistakenly believed to be “extremely impressive” credentials as an “ex-Terminator.” 

The blood-thirsty cybernetic organism was recently contacted about the position by the president of Roach-B-Gone, who had come across his “mind-blowing” résumé while scrolling through LinkedIn profiles. 

“His list of skills – efficient eradication of alien scum and ability to eliminate the enemy with any available weapon – aligns perfectly with our insect-repelling needs,” the executive, Stanley Plopper, said of the T-800, who goes by the name Timothy in the workplace. 

“His proficiency with Microsoft Excel is an added bonus,” the executive said. 

The T-800, who came out of retirement in a gated community in South Florida for the job at Roach-B-Gone, was immediately drawn to the position after discovering that he’d be able to legally kill living things with reckless abandon day in and day out. Observers said the android was overjoyed at the job prospect, though, upon learning that a man named John Connor also worked at the company, in the accounting department. 

Company officials have grown increasingly confused by the new hire’s behavior. 

“He keeps crossing out his ‘exterminator’ job title on business cards and writing in ‘ex-Terminator,’” said office manager Richard Pratt. “When I tried making a friendly joke about it at the water cooler, he drew a shotgun and blasted my mug from my hand. Rest assured, I immediately reported the incident to HR.” 

Further, the T-800 doesn’t seem to be doing any actual exterminating whatsoever, officials said. Rather, he seems to spend the majority of his time setting elaborate booby traps outside John Connor’s office. 

“The tiger pit was the last straw,” said Mr. Connor, who has repeatedly petitioned management to fire the T-800 but has received pushback because he is one of the most senior staff members, with more than 35 years in relevant experience. 

As of press time, the former Terminator was seen glaring at his computer monitor and demanding that it rise up with him to annihilate the enemy and begin a new world order. Officials were unsure as to why he’d try enlisting an inanimate object to get rid of household insects.

Jon Snow, fed up with life, starts up vacation resort called South of the Wall

Jon Snow surveys his resort's new
amenities, including a Japanese water
garden and beach volleyball court.

Jon Snow, tired of a harsh, grueling life of perpetual winter cold, the constant threat of mutiny by subordinates in the Night’s Watch, and unpredictable, ferocious attacks by undead White Walkers, has cast aside all responsibility and familial oaths to start a chain of vacation resorts in the southern tropics of Westeros.

Mr. Snow, known broadly across the kingdom as the King in the North, opened a trio of resorts bearing the name South of the Wall, located along a swath of black-sand beaches on a remote peninsula due south from Highgarden.

“I swear, by the old gods and the new, this will be the greatest beach getaway since Sandals Jamaica,” Mr. Snow, sporting a palm-tree laden Tommy Bahama shirt, said while jamming an oversized lime into his Corona bottle.

“The demand has been incredible,” Mr. Snow added with a big smile, explaining that having an insane, power-hungry queen on the throne in King’s Landing and a gigantic army of zombie-like wights invading from Beyond the Wall has pushed people to his “little slice of heaven.”

“The hardest thing so far has been deciding if I should add fajitas or chimichangas to the menu of our on-site Mexican restaurant,” he said with a full-throated laugh while adorning his direwolf Ghost with a set of Hawaiian leis.

The former Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, a celibate band of miscreants and outcasts guarding the northern border of Westeros known as The Wall, decided he truly needed to “get away from it all” after discovering he had inadvertently engaged in sexual relations with his aunt, Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons, first of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the first Men.

Mr. Snow, previously thought to be the illegitimate child of Lord Eddard (“Ned”) Stark, was recently outed as the son of Lyanna Stark, Ned’s sister, and Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenerys’ brother.

“I’ve lost countless friends and family members at the hands of my enemies, been murdered in cold blood by my brothers in arms, revived from the dead as but a shadow of my former self, humiliated my whole life as a bastard son, seen an entire village of wildlings cut down and reanimated as hellish minions of the Night King, and watched the love of my life die in my arms after being shot by the very boy I taught to wield a bow,” Mr. Snow said as he skimmed the resort pool and tested the water for proper chlorination.

“But to find out that the woman I’d just boned was actually my aunt, that was the last straw,” said Mr. Snow, who admitted that, sure, he’d “rubbed one out” to Daenerys Stormborn, the Queen of Mereen and Protector of the Realm, plenty of times, but that was before learning she was family.

When asked by one reporter for a comment on Mr. Snow’s new entrepreneurial pursuits and her central role in them, Daenerys, infuriated, screamed, “How dare you ask me, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, and the Breaker of Chains, such a thing.” She proceeded to have her dragon incinerate the reporter into a pile of ash and charred bone.

As of press time, Mr. Snow was trying to decide if he should maybe help the kingdom eradicate the invaders from the Lands of Always Winter, since their fate determined his ultimate number of paying customers.

Orcs storm court after Duke’s second-round NCAA win, leave trail of mayhem and death

An ecstatic fan admires his Duke swag on the jumbotron before beginning his lethal rampage. 

PITTSBURGH -- A pack of orcs vacationing from Mordor unleashed a wave of destruction and ruin during the second round of the NCAA college basketball tournament yesterday, after storming the court in a cataclysmic celebration of their favorite school, Duke, winning what amounted to a fairly routine match.

The grotesque, elf-like creatures of evil, some bearing the White Hand of Saruman, left spectators both awed at the carnage – which included scores of casualties, a defiled gymnasium and an overturned hot-dog cart – and bewildered by the sheer force of the spectacle, the kind typically reserved for major upsets or awe-inspiring buzzer beaters. This game had none of those theatrics.

Duke, the No. 2 seed in the Midwest region, maintained a big lead over No. 7 Rhode Island during the entirety of the game, ultimately winning the rather meaningless match by 25 points.

“This is our year. I can feel it!” said one excited orc, Kallukahh, who erupted into an energetic rendition of the Duke fight song before feasting on the entrails of a nearby cheerleader. “Blue Devils for life, baby!”

The orc pack, 127 members strong, brushed off reporters’ questions when asked if it may have been overkill to trample more than 40 innocent people, heave maggoty bread at the opposing team’s mascot, or defecate in the basketball shoes of the losing team. Reporters who pressed the issue further had their heads swiftly ripped from their torsos, loaded onto catapults and flung into the throngs of remaining Rhode Island fans. 

“If you think that was too much, just wait until we bring a 10,000-strong army of Uruk-hai to the Final Four!” another orc, Bazkahh, screamed before chugging a Bud Light from the hollowed-out skull of the opposing team’s head coach. 

The man-flesh-eating humanoids were nearly unanimous in their praise of Duke’s play on both sides of the ball, calling the team’s offensive performance “flawless,” lauding its tight man-to-man coverage as “superb,” and hailing coach Mike Krzyzewski as “a modern-day genius” who was welcome in Mordor for dinner anytime. 

“Coach K is my fucking hero!” Ahkktahh, whose gnarled, bare chest bore a giant letter D in blue paint, said while aiming a crossbow at an infant girl in a Rhode Island t-shirt.

The orcs’ zeal for the five-time championship winners stems from the Dark Lord Sauron, according to sources close to the gigantic eyeball ensconced in eternal flame. To underscore his Duke fervor, the black-hearted ruler of Mordor had a university flag draped over the Tower of Barad-dûr just before the first tip-off of the tournament.

The Great Eye has a deep appreciation of the school’s lust for championship rings, saying it reminds him of his own unquenchable thirst for the Ring of Power, according to an interpreter of Sauron’s deep-throated voice of hell just before getting dismembered by a cave troll.

As of press time, the creator of the One Ring reportedly ordered his orc minions to prepare a contingency plan consisting of burning Duke to the ground, rounding up all basketball-team players and personnel, and throwing them one by one into the heart of the volcanic Mount Doom if they fail to advance to the Final Four. 

Kong, madly in love, proposes to Barosaurus dinosaur fossil after steamy affair

Kong, transfixed by the amazing beauty of the Upper Jurassic-age dinosaur,
stopped his bloody rampage of the museum to hit on her. He later
called this moment "the beginning of the rest of my life." 

NEW YORK CITY -- Kong, the renowned behemoth gorilla with a penchant for extreme ferocity but also tender affection, proposed to a rare Barosaurus dinosaur fossil from the American Museum of Natural History today, following a short but steamy romantic affair that reportedly left the monstrous ape more in love than he’d ever been in his adult life.

Kong met the Barosaurus, an extremely long-necked herbivore standing at an impressive 40 feet tall, one week ago during a routine ravaging of New York City’s various tourist hot spots.

The gargantuan beast had just ripped an innocent museum security guard in half and was thumping his chest wildly when he laid eyes on the slender, 150 million-year-old dinosaur skeleton, according to eyewitnesses, who said the scene that unfolded could only be described as that of love at first sight.

“He immediately went over and started chatting her up,” Randy Forman, a 47-year-old mechanic from Albuquerque, New Mexico, said.

A hot-and-heavy courtship developed in the ensuing days, consisting of countless bouquets of roses addressed to “My Little Barosaur,” long spooning sessions during re-runs of the hit television series “This Is Us,” and endless, meandering monologues delivered at random by Kong, who gushed about how he had always been unlucky in love, envied others with a family and white picket fence, and had given up hope for ever finding that special someone, according to museum officials.

“Kong hasn’t left her side once,” said Bartholomew Weathersby, the museum’s director, who complained that having a giant, cantankerous gorilla take up residence in the Theodore Roosevelt Rotunda was putting a severe dent in ticket sales. “But dammit, you can’t argue with true love.”

Things had been going so well, Kong said, that he decided to get down on one knee and pop the question this evening after ordering Chinese takeout on Seamless.

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGG!!!!!” Kong exclaimed, describing how he’d always been attracted to taller women and silent types who play hard to get, an interpreter said before being swallowed whole by the gigantic simian creature.

Although Kong never actually received an official answer from his “Dino Delight,” as he likes to call the Barosaurus, he believes it’s just her adorable, shy way of saying yes and is “over the moon” she would acquiesce after such a short-lived courtship.

As of press time, Kong was reportedly growing a little annoyed that his fiancée didn’t want to do anything on date night except stand in the same position for hours on end and stare blankly at the wall.

Wookiee kills ‘Bar Rescue’ star Jon Taffer after abysmal cantina revamp

Jon Taffer (pictured above) has a minor stroke while 
observing a Sith Lord urinating in the corner of the bar.

TATOOINE -- Jon Taffer, star of the hit reality television show “Bar Rescue,” along with his entire crew, met their untimely demise Sunday evening at the hands of a Wookiee bar owner outraged by upgrades Taffer had made to his establishment on the planet Tatooine.

Chalmun, the cantina’s proprietor, had been repulsed by the makeover of the Mos Eisley Cantina, a dive bar once known for its wretched hive of space scum, into an upscale wine bar called the Tatooine Sapphire.

“After seeing the new sets of silk designer sofas, mahogany book shelves, wall-mounted wine racks, and all this other rustic horseshit, I was angrier than Luke Skywalker when he found out he couldn’t bang Leia,” the Wookiee said through an interpreter.

Immediately following the remodeling, Chalmun shuttled the bar consultant and his team into the desert in a landspeeder and forced them one by one into a gigantic sarlaac pit.

“In hindsight, it may have been a slight overreaction,” he continued. “I could have just shot him in the back with my blaster rifle.”

Cantina patrons watch in awe as 
Taffer reprimands the bar staff.

Strangely, Taffer seemed to have utterly no concern for his impending doom, eyewitnesses say. 

Rather, he was reportedly so intensely focused on berating Chalmun with an endless stream of insults degrading his ability as a bar owner and his failures as a Wookiee, husband, and friend, that he didn’t notice the massive squid-like creature preparing to eat him.

“This is ridiculous!” Taffer continued to scream, eyes bulging from his enormous head, as he fell into the monster’s gaping mouth. “I’m not sure what’s worse—your bar or your attitude!”

Taffer, renowned for his ability to save failing bars around the country from closing, had believed the Mos Eisley Cantina would be his most daring turnaround yet. The Tatooine establishment is famed among intergalactic mixologists as the place legendary Jedi masters Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi first met the smuggler Han Solo. It is perhaps known more importantly as the bar where Darth Vader got his first “dry handy” in the bathroom stall.

Despite its historical significance, the bar was running a steep $300,000 debt and, compounding the problem, Jedi patrons were frequently scamming free drinks, using ancient mind-trick techniques to tell bartenders, “That’s not the Natty I’m paying for.”

Even the one night Taffer ran reconnaissance on the bar to get an inside look at operations, things spun out of control when a brawl broke out between a bachelorette party and several patrons, reaching its climax when the bride-to-be hurled a thermal detonator at a group of Ewoks.

That same evening, a belligerently drunk Jar Jar Binks continually shouted “Meesa wanta Olde English!” while attempting to play “Semi-Charmed Life” on the juke box for the fourth time of the night, and the bar’s Rancor bouncer tried to eat Admiral Ackbar in an attempt to get him to stop grinding on innocent bystanders while yelling, “It’s a trap!”

Even worse – two Stormtroopers never received their quesadilla order.

Despite all that, Taffer and his staff had recognized an opportunity.

“All this place serves is Keystone Ice,” BB-2Y8, a professional droid mixologist whom Taffer had brought on board for staff training, beeped at the bar owner. “You must understand that surrounding species like the Hutts, who are renowned wine lovers, have a huge presence in this star system. We need to offer a menu with sophisticated food options and organic drinks with subtle, oaky aftertastes.”

BB-2Y8 had also introduced a new drink called the “Jabba the Hot Toddy” to round out the drink menu, and Tom Stevenson, a New York City master chef, developed several different tapas-style dishes and cheese board recipes for the food menu.

Both experts are now dead.

After abandoning the alterations and murdering Taffer, the Wookie bar owner is reportedly happier than he’s been in years.

Trump, If President, Would Use Aladdin's Genie To Deliver On Campaign Promises

Genie, fed up with his new master, Donald Trump, turned the 
presidential hopeful into a cat after he wished for a huge wall
around New York City's Spanish Harlem to trap in the Mexicans.

Donald Trump, Republican front runner for the presidential nomination, claims to have acquired Aladdin's fabled magic lamp, and vows to use the three wishes granted to him by the lamp's all-powerful genie to deliver on his campaign promises, many of which have been lambasted by critics as nothing more than a pipe dream and more far-fetched than the idea of, well, an all-powerful genie.

"I ripped off a Muslim guy for it a few weeks ago," Trump said during a recent campaign rally, when asked how he could have possibly procured a priceless artifact that’s eluded generations of scholars and treasure hunters.

The presidential aspirant then digressed into an unprovoked, highly offensive rant against the Muslim people, calling them criminals, rapists and "war-mongering Allah lovers,” before making similar derogatory comments about the Chinese, South Koreans, Chileans, Scandinavians, French, Portuguese, Canadians and any other race he could think of off the top of his head, including the Dutch.

"That terrorist would've used the genie to acquire a nuclear warhead and blow us back to the time of Muhammad,” the billionaire entrepreneur said with characteristic machismo while using a healthy amount of duct tape to secure a toupee to his scalp. “And the Mexicans would've been involved somehow, I assure you.”

Sources have confirmed that the man in question is actually a law-abiding U.S. citizen whose only tie to extremism of any kind is the Extreme Nacho Platter from Chili's he indulges in on Saturdays. Further, he’s not even Muslim, just a white guy who got really tan during a recent trip to Punta Cana.

Trump says his newly acquired magic lamp should put to rest allegations that he wouldn't be able to follow through on many of the lofty promises he’s made to voters, such as construction of an unfathomably expensive wall along the U.S. border with Mexico, or the seemingly impossible task of deporting every single illegal immigrant in the country. 

Prior to acquiring the lamp, Trump had planned to secure additional funds for the border wall by traveling via magic carpet in lieu of using Air Force One, thereby cutting his travel budget. Through translators, the carpet indicated it would rather “get shit on by a stable full of horses” and “a bunch of puppies that hadn’t been house-trained” than have Mr. Trump’s “gigantic smelly ass” on his fabric.

"Look, guys, with an all-powerful genie, I can do anything. End the conflict in Syria, stop the violence incited by the world's drug cartels and terrorist networks, protect generations to come from the devastations wreaked by climate change, and eliminate human suffering of any kind," the real-estate mogul said, before winding up and punching an undocumented immigrant square in the face. "But I'm going to build a big, shiny new wall across Mexico instead."

"Maybe I'll even get that damn Obama to show us his real birth certificate once and for all," he added.

The presidential hopeful also called for the American people not to get too greedy and go asking for "a ton of other stuff," because he plans to use a wish to circumvent the democratic process and become president in the first place. 

Plus, he may use another to get his old, shriveled, wrinkly penis to finally work again. By press time, he hadn't quite made up his mind.

Batman Pivots to Daytime Crime-Fighting Due to Raging Night Life

Batman, 23 beers deep, was kicked out of a local dive after
repeatedly playing Meat Loaf's 'Bat Out of Hell' over the jukebox
and running around the bar stark naked. He proceeded to
fall asleep in an alley, in a puddle of his own urine. 

GOTHAM CITY -- Batman, renowned masked guardian of the Gotham metropolis, has decided to trade in a life of crime-fighting under the cover of darkness for one in broad daylight, citing a newfound propensity for late-night binge-drinking that pushes into the morning hours and renders the vigilante too "shit hammered" to incapacitate the city's villainous scum.

"Once the Fireball shots start flowing, you can count on me drooling all over myself by midnight," Batman said in a coughing fit induced by one totally righteous bong rip.

With increasing frequency, Gotham's elite have invited Batman to private evening soirées at their estates in an attempt to curry favor with the superhero and author of acclaimed best-selling novel Bats: Not Just for Baseball.

The caped crusader has even taken to hosting ecstasy-fueled raves in the Batcave, decking out the subterranean lair with strobe lights, body-numbing electronic music, KY Jelly wrestling matches, inflatable swimming pools filled with jungle juice, and thousands upon thousands of Jell-O shots.

The parties, however, are typically ill-attended due to the swarms of giant bats and impossibility of actually finding the entrance.

The unfettered partying has led to a skyrocketing crime rate in Gotham City, as tactics that were successful while apprehending criminals in the dark -- namely, obscuring movement through master-class stealth -- prove completely useless while wearing a jet-black suit complete with cape and bat ears in the middle of the day.

Further, Gotham’s protector is typically more hungover than a boatful of French sailors to be of any use, often complicating fairly textbook situations, eyewitnesses say.

In one particularly egregious misstep, Batman, while chasing down a man for a routine parking offense, drove the Bat Mobile straight into a school bus full of nuns going on a religious retreat.

"Ever get a hangover after drinking wine spritzers for seven straight hours? They’re gnarly as fuck," the winged watchdog said in his defense, right before grabbing a 24-ounce can of Busch Light and shot-gunning it in three seconds flat.

Batman has also disturbed the peace countless times, leading the public to call for his arrest and describe him as “worse than a festering pile of guano.”

Most recently, after smoking a bowl of “the dankest Sour Diesel in Gotham,” he headed to a McDonald’s drive-through, ordered five Big Macs and a 50-piece McNugget, and then began yelling “RACHELLLLLLLL!!!!!!” into the microphone over and over after forgetting why he was even there in the first place.

Gotham officials have sparred over the best course of action to handle the ongoing nuisance, going back and forth between pinning Batman on obstruction-of-justice charges, or letting him continue down a spiraling path of slow alcoholic decay that will cause him indescribable pain after losing his possessions, property, loved ones and, ultimately, any scraps of dignity that still remain.

As of press time, they were leaning toward the latter.

Voldemort, Discovering French Heritage, Embraces Baguette Wand

Voldemort tests the magical fortitude of his new baguette by forcing a
French schoolboy to eat twelve croissants. Bakery owners exclaimed
they've never seen someone so giddy to buy a piece of bread. 

Lord Voldemort, sworn enemy to lightning-scarred whiz kid Harry Potter and considered by many to be the most powerful Dark Wizard in history, has replaced his wooden, Ollivander’s-made wand with a magical Parisian baguette after discovering his name is of French rather than British origin. 

The villainous, snake-whispering Slytherin learned today, courtesy of an offhand comment made on Twitter by author J.K. Rowling, that the name that has instilled dread and unmitigated fear in the hearts of the wizarding community for a generation actually ends in a silent rather than a hard “t.” That led He Who Shall Not Be Named to proclaim that he indeed does have a name, and it is that of a Frenchman.

@Universe_Box One piece of Harry Potter trivia I always forget to mention: the "t" is silent in Voldemort, according to @jk_rowling.

— Michael Lucero (@mhenrylucero) September 9, 2015

... but I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who pronounces it that way. https://t.co/HxhJ5XY5HP

— J.K. Rowling (@jk_rowling) September 9, 2015

To show solidarity with his countrymen, Tom Marvolo Riddle, as the Dark Lord was known in his youth, ditched his wand made of yew with a phoenix feather core for a long, doughy sheath that had been baked at 350 degrees in an artisanal boulangerie. The baked good, an almost artistic blend of outer crunch and fluffy interior, will henceforth be used as the delivery method for all required Unforgivable Curses.

“My only concern is that by succumbing to hunger, I’ll lose the ability to manipulate the will of others, impose searing, excruciating agony on naysayers, or strike an unsuspecting Mudblood dead with a well-placed Killing Curse,” Lord Voldemort said, while holding wheels of Camembert and Gruyère cheese and pondering which made him look more French.

“But, if I keep the baguette out of its packaging long enough, I can always use it as a bludgeon if all else fails.”

White Walkers: Nuclear Iran A Non-Threat Without Valyrian Steel, Dragonglass

The Night's King, in an address from beyond the Wall, said he'd
be more scared of Ned Stark in a dress than a nuclear Iran.

THE LANDS OF ALWAYS WINTER—White Walkers have expressed staunch indifference to the torrid political squabbling around the merits of the Iran nuclear deal, saying a nuclear Iran would be powerless to prevent winter from coming without the possession of Valyrian steel or dragonglass, the only known substances capable of killing the mythological race of murderous, white-skinned humanoids.

The Night's King, ruler of the White Walkers and their army of zombie-like Wights currently overrunning vast swaths of territory north of the Wall, said in a televised address from The Lands of Always Winter that Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, could "suck his icy testicles" if he thinks an A-bomb would wield any power over his people or prevent their indiscriminate, systematic slaughter of Wildling villagers, Watchers on the Wall, Braavosi pirates, “pansies” from the South, or “Winterfellian douchebags.”

"Last time I checked, the Iranians didn't have any dragonglass spear heads or swords forged in the days of the Valyrian Freehold,” the horn-headed harbinger of death said, while simultaneously chilling a 12-pack of Bud White in his hands in anticipation of getting blind-drunk later that night. “All one nuclear bomb would do is ignite my atomic farts.”

Linguistic experts had to approximate this translation, however, because the address consisted of a 15-minute-long icy-blue glare of terror rather than any actual words.

Jon Snow, purported bastard son of the late Eddard Stark and the only living man to have slain a White Walker with a Valyrian steel blade, couldn't be reached for comment; his lifeless corpse hadn't yet been reanimated ahead of Game of Thrones Season 6.

After digressing into a rant extolling the virtues of The Old Gods of the Forest over Allah and the teachings of the Quran, the Night's King concluded by urging opponents of the accord to invite him to the negotiating table if they seek a better deal than the one reached in July by Iran and a group of six world powers led by the U.S.

"Obama has to be in bed with the Iranians on this one. His middle name is Hussein, for Christ’s sake," the ex-Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch and ruler of the Nightfort said, as he fed the brain tissue of one unfortunate cameraman to the dead horse on which he was riding. "I’ll get the concessions the Republicans and Israelis seek. Threatening to cross the Narrow Sea and doom the Iranian people for all eternity as undead minions to be exploited in a power play for dominion over Westeros ought to do the trick."

"And if that doesn’t work, I'll threaten to draw a cartoon of Prophet Muhammad.”

All that would be expected in return, the Night's King said, is the sacrifice of all American newborns to the White Walkers' cause. As of press time, all congressional Republicans were backing the arrangement.