The Wildman stepped over the wreckage of Raqqa. Bombs from the dozens of B-52s had leveled this city, and with it, all of ISIS. Dumb bombs dropped on dumb people, he thought. The Wildman chuckled to himself. He spotted a man trying to free himself from under a concrete block. Well, almost all of ISIS. He shot the man in the head, double tap, with his Beretta M9. He shot him again, double tap, just to make sure he was dead. Bam bam. Blaow. 26,764 ISIS fighters dead.
Two Months Later
The President, with a popularity now at an all-time high of 90%, waved to the crowd in front of the White House. They had gathered on the lawn to watch the President give out the Medal of Valor to the Wildman. That's the highest award you can get in the military, by the way. And it was his third one. "To the hero known as the Wildman, a fearless leader, mighty military general, responsible for the defeat of ISIS, the United States would like to reward you for your service," said the President, to a crowd of one million. "Gracias," the President added, laughing, "That must be the Cuban side of me!" The wildman merely nodded, as he was scanning the premises to make sure the area was secure. The President reached to place the Medal of Valor around his neck, and the sun's rays reflected off the medal into The Wildman's eyes, momentarily blinding him for one millisecond. A freak occurrence.
In that moment, a bullet ripped through the President's head.
Panic. Chaos. The Wildman grabbed the President, what was left of him, and combat rolled off the stage and pulled out his M16. He quickly calculated the trajectory of the bullet based on the exit wound out of the President's head, and determined that the sniper must have fired from the Eisenhower Building to the west. He quickly sprinted to the building, blowing open the doors with his M16, and ran up to the roof. There was the sniper, in a balaclava, still packing up his QBU-88 rifle.
"Don't move," said the Wildman. "I got you in my sights."
"I already done here," said the sniper, in a heavy Asian accent. "You country will fail no President ha ha."
"Well you fail now …" said the Wildman "… with no head."
And with that he blasted the sniper's head clean off, landing on the ground below. The sniper's decapitated body staggered backwards and flipped off the roof, also landing on the ground below. The Wildman inspected the QBU-88 rifle the sniper had left behind. "Chinese Army issue. Just what I suspected." There was always a new enemy.
One Month Later
With the President dead, the Vice President would normally assume office, but they made a special exception in this case. Now the Wildman was President. News choppers had caught all of his heroics the day the President died. It was now time to do what needed to be done. The first wave of soldiers would drop into Shanghai in a week. The Wildman looked out of the window of the Oval Office, his hot wife in the room next door, and couldn't believe just a few months ago, he was a trial lawyer in California. Now he was President of the United States of America. And his name was Kurt. And his approval rating? 100%.