You’re in a desert, walking along in the sand, when all of a sudden you look down and see an ICE agent crawling toward you. You reach down and you flip it over on its back. The ICE agent lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over but it can’t, not without your help. But you’re not helping. Why is that?

Deported to Davy Jones’ locker

Gotta give props to the classic tweet: “If you had to choose between saving Piers Morgan’s life or ordering a pizza what toppings would you choose.”

Jump onto the man