If we, two normal-style people, were to compete in the Winter Olympics, we would immediately die. Here’s how:
Cross-Country Skiing 10K: We struggle to get on our skis and stand up at the starting line. Once we finally get going, we’re good for about five minutes and then are like: How is everyone so far ahead of us, and how do we still have 9.8K to go? Ultimately, we freeze to death on the course.
Snowboarding Halfpipe: We break our necks.
Speedskating: We trip and fall, and someone skates over our necks (decapitated).
Curling: Everyone says, “I could do that!” But it’s not so easy to crouch down into lizard pose and push a stone when millions are watching at home. Overcome by nerves, we puke so much we literally die. Luckily, as we fall, our heads hit the stone, and it sails perfectly to the bullseye, winning us posthumous bronze.
Figure Skating: After we learn someone stole our idea to ice skate to the Minions song, we swallow cyanide.
Ski Jump: Break our necks.
Olympic Village: While waiting for our event to start (so we can die), we run into Tina and Milo, the two mascots of the 2026 Winter Olympics. We try to make them twerk like La Bussi, the Spanish bus system mascot, and we throw our ass backwards so hard we twerk into traffic and get hit by a car.
Skeleton: When a sport is named for what you become after you die doing it, you just gotta laugh! In Skeleton, you run downhill with a sled thing, jump on the sled, and speed downhill headfirst. We fail to jump on our sled correctly and just kind of sit there as it slides down the course, then die of embarrassment (heart attack).
Doubles Luge: Luge is like Skeleton except you are on your back, going feet first, with just your torso on the sled, and also there’s another guy on top of you. Because our abs are too weak to hold our heads up that long, we hit our heads on the ice and die. No longer alive to mess up the guy on top of us, he delivers the performance of his career, and we win posthumous silver.
Biathlon: Wait, there’s a rifle shooting sport in the Winter Olympics?! Not knowing this in advance, the sound of a gunshot startles us, and we slip on the snow, breaking our necks.
Ski Mountaineering: High up in the majestic Dolomites, our throat is ripped out by a Eurasian Eagle-Owl.
Downhill Skiing: Fall off the chair thingy that takes you up to the starting line.
Hockey: After years of being like, “The fighting in hockey is so undignified,” we get addicted to fighting. We’re fighting people for hitting our teammates. We’re fighting people for getting too close to the goalie. We’re fighting people because they look like they’d be fun to fight. We keep fighting until Connor McDavid personally breaks our necks.
Closing Ceremony: We try to get as close as possible to the Olympic Torch (for clout), and the 100 percent polyester lining of our Ralph Lauren coat catches fire. No one calls for help because they think it’s some artistic commentary on “the state of things in America.”
Bobsled: Actually, this one looks kind of easy. We win gold.
In recognition of how we stretched the limits of the human body, a new sport, “Breaknecking,” is added to the 2030 Winter Olympics. Unfortunately, we are dead and cannot compete.
