And on the 8th day, God said "Let there be punching bags" and there was Walter Mondale. And God looked upon Walter Mondale and loled.
Here we have Mondale managing to get a reasonably good zinger in (and indeed, this clip was remembered for the zinger) before tripping all over himself and saying he's going to "stand up for special interests" before catching himself.
Here's Mondale in his role as "token anti-Reagan candidate" getting curb stomped by Reagan (though, in Mondale's defense, Reagan used this exact line against Carter in 1980).
"Ronald Reagan is going to win in November. I won't. He won't tell you. I just did."
Ronald Reagan should've been charged with manslaughter after that debate. GodDAMN. Also, Mondale has one of those creepy 60's/70's smiles where it looks like his face is caving in.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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