"The life of a repo man is always intense."
Repo Man
About a year ago, the CIA recruited me to be the manager of a chain of inner-city golf resorts throughout Latin America. Intended as a refuge for rogue agents to unwind and let off some steam, The Gringolux Arms has flourished, with nonexistent locations in Haiti, Venezuela, and El Salvador. Known as "The Sportsman's Guantanamo," The Gringolux Arms has been the go-to chill spot for the weary rogue black-ops asset for almost a year. The program has been so successful, black-site resort developers posing as CIA agents are currently working with various Mexican sporting goods lords to dig a tunnel from the Pentagon to the proposed Juárez branch of the resort. The tunnel will provide convenient access to dangerous, 1-star, black-site golfing for agents who may not be able to leave the U.S. without lying to their wives.
Or it would have, if the Repo Man had not arrived.
Under the super-legit, totally-non-compromised Chinese leadership of Xo Biden, the deaths of CBP, ICE, and PB&J agents at the hands of undocumented extraterrestrials increased exponentially. While searching the flying cars of suspected aliens for Fentanyl and baked goods, hundreds of agents were disintegrated in their boots by illegal death rays during the Xo administration.
"It happens sometimes. People just explode. Natural causes."
Repo Man
The 1984 spaghetti documentary Repo Man depicts the gruesome death of a highway patrolman by an unconstitutional death ray. The scene ends with the car driving away from a pair of empty, smoking boots standing like a morbid testament to the dangers of open interdimensional borders on the shoulder of the highway.
The plague of aliens must stop!
A provision was slipped into the new Preventable Deaths Act that immediately halts all funding for extraneous sports spending in the name of preventing more death. As a result, support and funding for The Gringolux Arms has collapsed. Which, paradoxically, may result in the death of both myself and my caddy. The streets are even more violently-unsafe than usual. It's like Black Hawk Down meets Dorf On Golf out there.
Nobody cares because, legally speaking, neither of us actually exist.
It's Mogadishu '93 all over again.
But there is hope. The Repo Man called and said that we can take all the repo'd people from the U.S. and house them in our sanctuary black-site golf resorts, all of which are conveniently located in dangerous Latin American inner cities. The only problem is that the local governments down here are actually unwilling to allow the flights full of their own repo'd citizens to land. Which doesn't corroborate the actions of the American Repo administration at all. Nothing screams humanitarian concern for your own people, or perhaps murderous criminal contingent, like preventing them from coming home.
At the end of Repo Man, the undocumented extraterrestrials give a spaced-out PB&J agent a ride in their converted 1964 Chevy Malibu. The glowing conveyance flies over Los Angeles, enroute presumably to San Salvador, or perhaps the nearest Oki-Dog.
"A repo man spends his life getting into tense situations."
Repo Man
There isn't a lot of room in the Malibu for any repo'd people; in fact the Malibu itself was repo'd by the aliens, who sent it back to Malibu for demolition. It was pulverized in the recent fires there, not unlike the countless highway patrolmen who were burned alive by the mysterious contents of its trunk. Thus the military transport planes employed by the U.S. government. Normally, the Army would use radioactive Chevy Malibus to return the repo'd citizens of foreign countries to their respective homelands. But circumstances are extenuating, and "El Hielo" ain't playin'.
But while these facts are interesting, none of it has anything to do with Operation Dorf Hawk Down, which a bunch of us just scribbled on the back of a golf scorecard with a blunt golf pencil. Operation Dorf Hawk Down outlines a plan of escape for those of us trapped in the abandoned CIA golf embassies scattered throughout dangerous Latin American inner cities. Basically, we have to change the name on the sign above the door from "The Gringolux Arms" to "The Repolux Arms." That way, all the repo'd people from the U.S. will know where to go. All we really need is a few gallons of white out.
And another case of golf pencils.
