I’ve been reading a lot books lately about Abraham Lincoln.

He had a rough life. First of all, he was raised in a log cabin. Gross. He ends up looking like an ape, but has the voice of a  little girl. Racist people back then fucking hated him. Plus, his wife was major ugz and his kid died in the White House. So shitty. Despite all that, he still managed to preserve the Union and free the slaves. And there were a ton of slaves back then. He was an amazing dude all around.

So like two nights after General Lee surrenders, pretty much sealing a Union victory, Lincoln decides to take a night off. He tries to go out and enjoy a play with his ugly wife, when BAM, John Wilkes Booth shoots him in the head. So shitty!

His killer then jumps from the balcony onto the stage, breaks his leg upon impact, yells some shit in Latin, hobbles out of the theater, and escapes. The audience, meanwhile, does nothing. Because they think it’s a part of the play. Seriously. They thought their president, Abraham Lincoln, was participating in some experimental break-the-fourth-wall theater. Two nights after saving the country. Playing a supporting role. As an assassination victim. Idiots.

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