We’re coming to you live from the White House lawn, standing exactly where the brand-new ballroom is set to rise because nothing says “public safety” quite like a bigger room for wealthy people to drink, deal, and applaud themselves under better lighting.
Officials assure us this ballroom will be so grand, so flawless, that it will naturally deter future shootings. Because, as we all know, violence thrives in cramped, unattractive spaces, but give it a chandelier and a string quartet, and suddenly everyone behaves.
After all, history has proven that alcohol, political favors, and questionable decision-making only become dangerous when the décor is subpar. Add a waltz, maybe a little polka, or for the more modern crowd, a spirited round of YMCA, and order is restored.
Let’s go now to the podium, where the head of the NRA is ready to address the situation.
“Look, this is unfortunate,” he begins, visibly concerned. “We’ve invested millions lobbying for responsible gun ownership, and frankly, we’re troubled by reports that some individuals are purchasing firearms without adequate aim. We intend to look into this immediately. In the meantime, we’re considering mandatory marksmanship clinics because if people insist on shooting, the least they can do is be good at it.”
Strong words. Comforting, even.
Next up, a group of celebrities who attended the dinner to “support the arts” are now weighing in on the evening’s unexpected performance.
“We’re appalled,” one actor says, adjusting designer sunglasses indoors. “The execution was completely off. No tension, no pacing, no character development. Honestly, we’ve seen better work from our B-movie interns. If this was supposed to be dramatic, it needed a rewrite and possibly a better director. We expected more from the NRA, but clearly, even they can’t hit their marks anymore.”
Harsh, but fair—at least by Hollywood standards.
Before the president speaks, we’re hearing from security and the Secret Service.
“Look, we secured the doors we were told to secure,” one agent explains. “We established a clear viewing angle, controlled the perimeter, and when things went sideways, we reacted immediately. Two men and one woman tackled the president’s standard protocol… or, depending on who you ask, personal preference.”
The agent pauses.
“And for the record, any rumors about a betting pool are completely false. Vicious lies. Entirely unverified. Also, I’m not at liberty to discuss the odds.”
And now, the president.
“Let me be very clear,” he says, stepping forward. “This new ballroom is essential. Essential. It will protect us from events like this. This one was real. Unlike the others, which, as you know, were… different. Very different. I had no idea this was happening.”
He gestures dismissively.
“No questions. Especially not from fake news.”
“We’re going to get this sorted out. By tomorrow, we’ll have a very strong, very believable version of events. Maybe even award-winning. But let’s not forget these were good people. They were doing their best. Promoting… gun violence.”
A staffer leans in. “Gun safety, sir.”
“Right. Gun safety. Of course.”
He nods confidently.
“They missed because I’m a small target. Very small. And God is on my side.”
Another whisper from offstage: “Sir, the shooter was dressed as God. It was the theme.”
“Exactly,” the president replies without hesitation. “Even more proof.”


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