Well before becoming President, Barack Obama broke into my apartment, gun in hand, rifling through my things and threatening to kill me when it was all over.
I begged for my life, tears streaming down my face, my fear and frustration all to evident, and I reminded him time and again that his plans for escape were ludicrous and to please, please not kill me.
“If I want to kill you, I’ll kill you, period,” he uttered coldly each time.
This went on for several minutes, me trying to convince him of the futility of escape, him reminding me repeatedly that when it was all over I was a dead man. “Period.”
In the end, he slipped out a back window, having loosened the knots prior to making his escape and thus allowing me to free myself of the ropes. The final knot undone, I ran to the open window and shouted as Obama leapt over the backyard fence. “Hey! What the hell? You said you were going to kill me. You’re nothing but a g*****n liar!”
BILL
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