I walked inside Mr. Rothschild’s office accompanied by his voluptuous blonde secretary.
“Sir, please have a seat. Mr. Rothschild will be with you shortly.”
“Thanks ma’am,” I replied as my eyes devoured her hourglass figure.
As I took my seat, I observed a single brown manila file on Rothschild’s desk. it was labeled EXTREMELY CONFIDENTIAL—For Your Eyes Only.
Next to the file, I saw “R’s” monogrammed 14 carat gold cigarette lighter and a large marble ashtray.
As my curiosity piqued, I reached over and flipped open the file.
I scanned the first and only page in the file:
Note to self
Today, I was informed that Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia congresswoman, has learned about our secret space laser program. I know that the House will just slap her on the wrist. The Dems want to use her as the crazy poster child of the Republican party.
However, she knows too much!
Imperative first steps
Greene must be made to appear to be a total crackpot. This task should be easily accomplished based on her proclivity toward QAnon propaganda. She embraces conspiracy theories like gorillas hug their infants.
- Have 45 call her and congratulate her on her tweeting, and her perceptive networking and investigative skills. Have 45 hint that he’s considering her for the VP post;
- Send her text messages with photo attachments, from Area 51 showing sketches of silver disc-shaped spacecraft shooting lasers into California forests. Tell Greene more classified info to follow and to only post these photos on her Instagram page.
- Have extraterrestrials contact Greene in her dreams, using the voices and images of John Kennedy Jr. and Elvis (They are not to wear I-95 masks), while making sure Greene doesn’t figure out our Laser Brain Penetration Program. Based upon her I.Q. this task should also be easily accomplished.
- Send Greene a bottle of Chateau Mouton Rothschild 1982 from my cellars with a cryptic note assuring her that Q shall be contacting her in the near future about her spaceflight to Mars.
After assignment completed come back to my office for further instructions.
Please use the cigarette lighter and ashtray on my desk to burn this document.
As the smoke permeated the room, Rothschild’s secretary reappeared.
“Sir, Mr. Rothschild would like to wish you farewell and good luck. May I accompany you to your Aston Martin, Mr. Bond.”
“Of course my dear girl, I’ll follow right behind you.”