Okay, picture this: it’s 2024, America is limping towards another presidential election like a beat-up wrestler barely standing after a chair shot to the face, and just when you thought things couldn’t get more absurd, bam! Donald Trump—yep, that guy—is about to sit down for a podcast with The Undertaker. The Undertaker. A 300-pound man who has spent most of his career pretending to bury people alive. Folks, we are witnessing political theater that makes WWE look like Shakespeare.
Now, Trump is no stranger to the squared circle. No, no, no—he’s not just dipping his toes into the wrestling world. He’s bathed in it. He’s marinated in it. He’s been in the WWE Hall of Fame since 2013. Remember when he shaved Vince McMahon’s head at WrestleMania? Yeah, well, that’s just the tip of the iceberg of ridiculousness. But this? This is like if Vince McMahon woke up one morning, sniffed glue, and decided that instead of putting together a wrestling storyline, he’d run a presidential campaign.
But let’s break it down. This podcast, Six Feet Under (and don’t let the name fool you, it’s not a crime documentary about Trump’s presidency), is hosted by Mark Calaway, aka The Undertaker, a man who spent three decades pretending to kill people and walk away. And now Trump—who, let’s be real, spent four years politically killing any notion of normalcy—is here for a conversation. They’re gonna sit down, cross their legs, maybe sip on some tea, and talk about what? Real estate? Tax fraud? Which one of them has buried more people?
But you know why Trump’s doing this, right? Because every legit news outlet—from 60 Minutes to CNBC—wants to ask him about things like, oh I don’t know, his four indictments, his shaky mental state, and why his campaign looks more unhinged than a Royal Rumble with no referees. So, he pulls a classic Trump move: he dodges them all like it’s a steel chair flying across the ring and takes refuge with the one guy who is guaranteed to not ask him anything tough. I mean, what’s The Undertaker gonna ask him? “How’s your dead man persona going these days, Donny?”
It’s almost beautiful in its absurdity. Trump avoids real questions like they’re coming from Nancy Pelosi’s inbox, and instead, he slides right into the Undertaker’s lair of spooky fog and dim lights. Because why get interviewed by people with actual journalism degrees when you can talk to a guy who made his living rising from the dead in scripted matches? I mean, Trump’s whole life is like a WWE match anyway. Fake feuds, over-the-top drama, and somehow, even when you think he’s down and out, he finds a way to crawl back in. Cue his entrance music—it’s the sound of subpoenas being shredded.
And the timing, folks, the timing! Three weeks before the election. Not a serious interview, not a debate, not even a carefully staged town hall where someone pretends to ask him about policy. Nope, he’s in a graveyard of political sanity, chatting it up with a guy who once buried his own brother in a casket match. Oh, and you know what? There’s probably a good chunk of people out there who’ll think this is the most normal thing Trump’s done in months. And that’s the wild part. That’s where we are now. A convicted felon running for president decides to talk shop with the Undertaker, and half the country shrugs like, “Yeah, that tracks.”
Look, this is less of an interview and more of a low-budget crossover episode nobody asked for. What’s next? Trump shows up on Cooking with Gordon Ramsay, only to set the kitchen on fire and call it a “big success”? At this point, nothing is too bizarre.
The problem is, it’s all spectacle, folks. Trump isn’t doing this because he cares about wrestling fans. Please. He’s doing it because, like a true WWE heel, he thrives on chaos and controversy. He knows this will get people talking, get his base riled up, and keep him in the headlines. He’s trying to pull a Hulk Hogan, resurrect his career after it’s been body-slammed by legal charges, and tell the world, “I still got it, brother!” But we’ve seen this movie before, and spoiler alert: the villain always loses in the end. The only thing Trump’s wrestling with now is reality—and reality’s about to hit him harder than any chokeslam ever could.
So buckle up, because we’re about to witness one of the most ludicrous intersections of politics and entertainment ever. Trump might be heading to The Undertaker’s podcast, but by the looks of it, he’s already six feet under.
