It is not a lie that I write very short stories about the Kennedy assassination

Here's one:

Let's all go to the MOTHER FUCKING AIR SHOW! I hear they've got the biggest damn helicopters you ever seen, and they're made out of solid gold! I'm serious: they even run on liquid gold. Can you believe it? I do. They've also got a zeppelin, filled with a mix of hydrogen and nitrous oxide! They're having to fight off the huffers with sticks and fire hoses!The security guys are all like “Get back! It'll explode! You'll explode!” and the huffers are all like “We doan' care, mang, we jus woan git hiiiiiiiiigh.” It's totally true!

They've got that plane JFK died in. For reals yo, it turns out the Dallas motorcade was actually, like airborne? So Jack and Jackie were in this open cockpit sopwith camel which Jack was, by the way and just for your information, piloting himself like the stud he was. And all the people watching them were on these bleachers held up by hot air balloons. Big mothers those balloons, and they had the flag on them, which means they still have them hovering over Dallas to this day, 'cause if the balloon touches the ground that counts as the flag touching the ground.

Anyway, JFK is doing a celebratory series of barrel rolls for the crowd when suddenly BLAM BLAM BLAM his head is gone! The plane's going out of control, Jackie's totally losing her shit, nobody knows what's going on. As a last act of reflexive heroism, the President's headless body hops up on the canvas of the plane, pulls Jackie out of her harness, straps a parachute on her, hurls her screaming over the side, and then collapses dead.

About ten minutes later they found Oswald, strapped into a personal auto-gyro, still clutching his rifle and just totally pondering the motherfucking magnitude of the shit he has just done.