President Trump is said to be mulling over whether or not to send Anthony Fauci to the Hague to answer charges for crimes against humanity.
His top advisors are split on the issue.
Within minutes, social media erupted with speculation over what other charges might exist.
By lunchtime, officials familiar with the court had reportedly answered:
“None.”
According to one bewildered legal adviser, the International Criminal Court isn’t investigating Fauci, has never announced plans to prosecute Fauci, and was generally confused why its receptionist had suddenly received hundreds of phone calls asking about him.
“The first caller wanted to know if Dr. Fauci was being charged with excessive sweater-vest ownership,” the receptionist explained. “The second asked whether putting pineapple on hospital pizza counted as a crime against humanity.”
“The third insisted Fauci should answer for introducing decaf coffee to government buildings.”
The receptionist admitted she hung up after someone demanded an investigation into “reckless overuse of PowerPoint presentations.”
Political commentator Joseph Barron said Americans have reached the point where every internet rumor instantly becomes breaking news.
“Someone makes a joke.”
“Someone else posts it with dramatic music.”
“Then twelve influencers spend six hours arguing about something that never happened.”
“It’s the Circle of Life.”
Meanwhile, the people with the best perspective weren’t politicians.
They were ordinary Americans who happened to overhear the country’s latest argument.
Doug, a tire technician outside Alexandria, Virginia, said customers debated the story while waiting for oil changes.
“One guy insisted the ICC should investigate whoever invented low-profile tires.”
“The next guy blamed parallel parking.”
“I just rotated the tires.”
Meanwhile, Cheryl, who operates the register at a family-owned hardware store, says customers spent all morning discussing international law while buying garden hoses.
“One fellow wanted to know whether the Geneva Convention covered leaf blowers.”
“I told him Aisle Seven.”
Then there was Frank, a commercial roofer.
“We were eating lunch on top of an office building when somebody read the headline out loud.”
“By the end of the sandwich, half the crew was debating whether bad office coffee should be prosecuted by The Hague.”
“I’ve worked construction for thirty years.”
“That’s somehow not the dumbest lunch conversation I’ve heard.”
Even Rita, who delivers uniforms to businesses across Washington, found herself caught in the confusion.
“I walked into one office where everyone was arguing about the ICC.”
“I thought they meant the Interstate Commerce Commission.”
“They thought I meant the International Chess Championship.”
“We spent ten minutes agreeing on things nobody had actually said.”
Joseph Barron believes the real lesson has nothing to do with international law.
“It demonstrates that Americans will passionately debate absolutely anything.”
“Half the country never read the story.”
“The other half only read the headline.”
As the controversy continued, reporters contacted an ICC spokesman for clarification.
According to Barron, the spokesman sighed, rubbed his temples, and replied, “Please stop emailing us lists of things you think should be international crimes.”
Among the suggestions reportedly received that afternoon were talking during movies, putting ketchup on hot dogs, replying-all to office emails, scheduling meetings that could have been emails, and driving exactly one mile per hour under the speed limit in the left lane.
The spokesman declined to comment on whether those offenses were annoying.
He confirmed only that none of them fell within the court’s jurisdiction.
God Bless America.
