"Mock me again. I dare you!" And so he did.

"Mock me again. I dare you!" And so he did. Ronald's fist crashed down into his jaw for the third time, or was it the fourth? He was beaten. Broken beyond repair and all he knew

was the coppery taste of blood in his mouth and the tears streaming down his face. Impossible not to cry when getting the living fuck punched out of your nose by a guy named Ronald

Reagan. His punches packed quite a wallop for his age and the communist on the receiving end couldn't stop himself from crying like a little girl. As his face poured out more blood

. "Looks like it is Bedtime for Bonzo! heh-heh." he quipped as he stepped over the ko'd commie. Cheers rang out from the UN cage match arena. Regan grabbed the mike. "and God bless

Cheese Nips!" Then Gorbachev dropped from the top of the cage. He had Reagan in the Camel Clutch. But Reagan's hair grease caused Gorbachev's hands

around as many candied tetrominos he could handle. Marx wouldn't know a bourgeoisie from a beheading. Stalin wouldn't know a proletariat from a hole in the ground.

But Caesar. Caesar knew how to command an army. He knew how to keep his people in check. His only downfall was his trust and love of his dear friend Brutus. Brutus was a tragic

stinkin' awful no-good great big fat liar. With friends like Brutus, who needs enemies? Caesar's dying words would go down in history, but at least he had a salad named after him.

As any schoolgirl knows, Caesar's last words were "Infamy, infamy, they've all got it in for me!"which is why you should never order a Caesar salad during the ides of March.