Held. Him. Until the cops arrived.

Let's pause for a moment to appreciate the scenario. You are being choked out by a furious Daniel Bryan. There are no ring ropes you can reach for a 5-count. There is no referee to tap out to. There is no escape. There is just you and the angry yeti playing your spinal cord like an accordion, and in some distant, glimmering point in the future, a bunch of equally angry cops whose presence will nevertheless come as a welcome respite. I'm told that the burglar spent most of the waiting time apologizing profusely, which is actually pretty badass because if faced with a 30-minute sleeper hold from an enraged Bryan, roughly 90 percent of the WWE's locker room would have just pooped in resigned silence until they fainted.

Bryan later said that he felt a little bad about the incident, and conceded that chasing possibly armed robbers and going to town on their necks was "probably not the best thing to do because you don't know what is going to happen." However, in the very same interview, he says that his reaction was spontaneous and he was genuinely furious, leading me to believe that he was talking strictly about what might happen to the next fucking guy he catches carrying away his stuff.

A few ignored warnings and a controlled shot to the stomach later, the second criminal was subdued. Presumably, both of them are still trying to figure out exactly which chaos god they managed to piss off so badly that it decided to sic a flash mob of The Expendables on them.

You know what else is intimidating? Proposals. Asking the Question With A Capital "Q" is one of the most important things you'll do in your life, and it takes a lot of both planning and nerve. So, by that logic, a robbery at the place where you're nervously preparing to propose to your girlfriend should pretty much immediately reduce you to a sweaty, whimpering puddle. That is, unless you're Nicholas Anderson, in which case you resignedly put the ring back in your pocket and spring into action.

Anderson had carefully planned his proposal to his girlfriend Deanna with their son, Brighton, who smartly picked a local Mexican restaurant for the place. That's a solid move, kid -- even if she says no, everyone gets tacos. There was only one hitch: Unbeknownst to Nicholas and Brighton, the restaurant they chose was something of a robbery hotspot that had already been held up two times that month. As they were sitting there and Nicholas was working up the nerve to ask the question, a third time materialized in the form of a man bursting in and declaring intentions of robbery. This was obviously ten kinds of bullshit, and Nicholas made his views about the interruption known. When the robber attempted to exit the restaurant, he very casually leapt up, yanked the guy back in, and choked him out in a matter of seconds.

Then, after the obligatory round of applause from the adoring public, his troupe took off to a nearby park to actually carry out the proposal, just like nothing had happened. I like to think that a mugger attempted to hold them up on their way there, only for Nicholas to let out an audible sigh and backhand him right back into the bushes without as much as breaking stride. "Here we go again," Nicholas might utter, just before the credits rolled.

Of course, in reality, that amount of balls-tripping crazy is a completely inefficient method of stopping crime. That is, unless you're in Australia, where it's second nature to even civilians. So, here's a real-life Martin Riggs foiling a robbery with nothing but pure, glorious insanity:

If you can't watch that video, my advice to you is GO SOMEWHERE WHERE YOU CAN WATCH THAT VIDEO, preferably with sound on. Then, go watch the TV interview they gave about the incident, because that's some good shit.

This is the sad story of two criminals who were breaking into an Oporto service station supermarket in 2016, only to run into the most dangerous thing Australian wildlife has to offer: A half-naked Aussie man, drunk off his ass and brandishing a broken flip-flop. The man was James Ross-Munro, and he and his camera-phone-happy friend happened to be passing by when they noticed the burglary. After assessing the scene, Ross-Munro did the most logical thing he saw in the potentially dangerous situation: He sprinted to the criminals' car, stole the key from their ignition, and fucking ripped off his shirt.

This sounds like the start of a story that ends with a frat house being closed for renovations, but in this case, you'll probably actually feel a little better about the world. Ross-Munro didn't run away from the car after he decided that he needed a bare chest for the occasion. He stood right there by the car, brandishing the key, pointing at the wannabe criminals and sprouting hilarious profanities at the top of his lungs ("Fucking shit-c**ts!"). When one of the criminals tried to get in the car, presumably praying that it would magically start without the key that the maniac haunting them was now brandishing, Ross-Munro jumped in the car with him, pelting the criminal with punches and a steady stream of X-rated commentary until he was forced to flee. Thoroughly foiled, the robbers fled into the merciless, spider-infested night, one escape vehicle poorer and with precisely zero loot. Ross-Munro briefly gave chase, because of course he fucking did.

Moral of the story: If you're planning to go on a crime spree in Australia, your best bet is to hope that the poison platypuses finish you before you run into a drunk local.

Pauli Poisuo is a Cracked columnist and freelance editor. Here he is on Facebook and Twitter.

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