On a Saturday night at Mar-A-Lago, hours after Melania had retired to her private quarters with a splitting headache and a chipped fingernail, and most of the sycophants who surround him had drifted off, Trump, for no apparent reason other than he felt like it, fired three shots at a housekeeper named Esmeralda Ruiz Rosales, better known around Mar-A-Lago as Lupita. Trump used a 22-caliber pearl-handled pistol he had borrowed from Rudy Guiliani. It was 1:13 a.m. Several members of Trump’s Secret Service detail witnessed the president pull the trigger, and saw Lupita fall flat on her back on the carpet. They saw Trump slip the .22 in his coat pocket and walk away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Lupita was 52 years old, a grandmother of four, and had worked at Mar-A-Lago for years, but had never met Trump. Her grown children despised the president and often told her she should quit working for his racist empire. The president’s Secret Service detail immediately sealed the property off. FBI and Secret Service reinforcements were called in. Someone got Vice President Pence on the phone. Pence had been woken from a very pleasant dream about Jesus Christ, especially the part when Jesus whispered to him,“It’s really you, Mike, you’re the chosen one, not that idiot Trump. What do you take for me?”
Guests were ordered to remain in their rooms with the lights off and doors locked. Dozens of cooks, maids, housekeepers, bartenders, servers, a grumpy plumber and one catering manager were herded into the ballroom where they were ordered to surrender their phones, identification, keys, ID badges and sit quietly until further instructions were issued by the authorities. To use the bathroom you had to ask an agent, and be escorted there and back. Only one person at a time. This was a problem because the nearest working bathroom was a hike away. (Trump properties are known for their quirky plumbing.) But the Secret Service team was not fooling around this night, not after what a few had seen with their own eyes. Within fifteen minutes Mar-A-Lago was swarming with FBI agents in full combat gear. Trump was in his private suite, watching Fox News, utterly oblivious to what was going on not 400 feet from his bedroom. The president still had Guiliani’s pistol because none of the Secret Service agents had thought to ask him for it.
In the ballroom Secret Service agents huddled with FBI agents amid the ringing of house phones and the buzzing, vibrating, chiming, and pinging of cell phones. Nobody in an official capacity seemed to know what to do. An FBI agent whispered to the Secret Service agent next to her, “Hey, you guys ever run scenarios on shit like this? When the President shoots somebody?” “Never,” replied the Secret Service agent. “Never needed to before January 20, 2017. It’s a new era.” Finally, a burly FBI man with a shiny bald head entered the room and took command. He barked orders left and right and the agents stepped to it. The bald FBI guy walked over and kneeled next to Lupita’s body. A puzzled look crossed his face, as if he had walked in on Mike Pence having sex with Lindsey Graham. The look was part disgusted, and part like, well of course Mike Pence is having sex with Lindsey Graham.
At 2:10 a.m. Trump tweeted: A short while ago I shot an intruder here at Mar-A-Lago. Thank God for our beautiful right to bear arms. Let this be a lesson to anyone who tries to harm ME or the TRUMP family.
Within minutes -- and one can only surmise how Fox News got the scoop when there was a virtual communications blackout in place -- Fox reported that the president had killed an Iranian terrorist who had breached Mar-A-Lago security by masquerading as a housekeeper. Citing White House sources, Fox reported that the terrorist’s target was the First Lady, and that this was clearly an act of revenge by Iran for the killing of General Qasem Soleimani. Reporters and TV crews and satellite trucks descended on Mar-A-Lago. Sirens wailed in the darkness.
Vice President Mike Pence issued a statement, first thanking God for Trump’s bravery and heroism, then promising that the United States would take appropriate action against the Iranian regime once more facts about the attempted assassination of the First Lady were known. All options, Pence solemnly intoned, with what for him was real, honest feeling, were on the table. “Iran will not get away with this craven act of terrorism,” said the vice president. “We ask God to protect President Trump, and the Godly and Obedient and Righteous people of the United States of America.”
At 2:33 a.m. Trump tweeted again: I’m the best shot! I was first in my class at West Point in shooting. Don’t worry, America, all is well! Your beloved First Lady is safe and sound! Iran will pay for this!
Back in the ballroom, the Secret Service and the FBI struggled to keep the staff calm, particularly after Lupita was helped to her feet by the same bald FBI agent who had kneeled next to her. The agent, who towered above tiny Lupita, steadied the dazed woman as they walked to a table in the far corner of the room. Several of Lupita’s coworkers crossed themselves, others gasped, a few clapped. “It must have been a drill,” someone said. “Yeah,” one of the cooks muttered in Spanish, “it’s just more bullshit. That’s all there is around here, bullshit.” The ballroom buzzed. More agents arrived, in twos and threes. Radios crackled and hissed. An FBI helicopter circled Mar-A-Lago.
At 2:51 Trump tweeted: The fake news media is reporting that I shot a housekeeper, not a terrorist. Lies! Iran attacked Mar-A-Lago! I will be addressing the nation shortly.
In Teheran the Iranian foreign minister issued this statement: The Islamic Republic of Iran had nothing to do with this reported attack on Mar-A-Lago. When we take our revenge for the assassination of Qasem Soleimani it will not be against Mrs. Trump. She has suffered enough just being married to the halfwit.
Trump addressed the nation at 3:30 a.m. Trump’s skin looked peach-colored.
So, I was walking in my stunning resort, one of the very best in the world, and this Iranian looking woman -- you can’t always tell, but this time I could, never a doubt, she was definitely Iranian -- walks straight at me with this blood-lust in her eyes. At first I mistook her for Nancy Pelosi. But it wasn’t Nasty Nancy, and it wasn’t Shifty Schiff, I will tell you that. I’ve looked death in the eye many times in my life. Nobody’s ever looked into death’s eyes more than Donald Trump. If you’re in the real estate business in New York City, you know what I mean. Once I knew this woman was there to get me, I stepped into action. I was very good friends with the great San Francisco homicide detective Harry Callahan. Great guy, he taught me a lot. Said I was the best shot he’d ever seen, even better than him and he was the greatest. There are streets named after him all over America, and if there aren’t any, there should be, and we can make that happen very soon. It will be great for the country. Instinctively I put my hand in my pocket and felt this lovely little .22-caliber revolver. Pearl-handled, really nice, fits my hand well. I drew, aimed, and fired three shots. Bang, bang, bang. My shooting form was perfect, right, like everything else I do. Perfect is what I do. Perfect economy. Perfect military. Perfect phone calls...
I was calm because I knew the terrorist was dead. She wasn’t moving, just real still. I stepped over the body and walked to my suite. The Secret Service and the FBI are taking care of the rest. Attorney General Barr, the greatest AG in history, is on it. If there’s any evidence to be found, Barr will find it and then he’ll never let anyone else see it, even if he’s subpoened by Congress or hung by his ankles from the Golden Gate Bridge. Great guy.
The last we hear of Lupita is her shouting, “You can’t send me back to Mexico. I’m from Des Moines! I’m an American citizen you idiots!”
At 4:30 a.m., a forensic technician from the FBI extracted a .22-caliber bullet from the ceiling, a second bullet from a baseboard, and a third from a potted palm tree.
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