Biden & the Epstein Files

Sharpie Justice: Biden, the Epstein Files, and Supper That Couldn’t Wait

Dateline: Washington, D.C.—Where Truth Is Optional and Supper Is Mandatory

President Joe Biden has always said he’d bring “decency” back to the White House. What he didn’t say was that decency might involve scrawling his opponent’s name into a pile of 33,000 Epstein-related documents with a Sharpie, then wandering off to eat Jill’s meatloaf before the ink was dry.

This is not fiction. This is America, where evidence, politics, and supper intersect in the same kitchen.


Biden’s Great Paper Chase

Picture Biden hunched like a bingo champion over a fortress of paperwork, searching for Trump’s name like it was a missing sock. He flips pages with the intensity of a guy still trying to beat Where’s Waldo without his glasses.

“C’mon, Jack,” Biden mutters. “You’re telling me this guy never flew down to Epstein Island for the conch fritters?”

After thirty minutes, he’s sweating. After ninety minutes, he’s convinced the printer skipped a page. By hour three, aides find him whispering, “It’s gotta be here somewhere… maybe under ‘T’ for ‘Totally Guilty.’”


The Sharpie Solution

When in doubt, Joe turns to the Sharpie—a pen so powerful it once redrew a hurricane path across Alabama. “If a marker can move weather patterns, it can move history,” Biden says.

So he grabs the permanent marker, black as the void of plausible deniability, and starts adding “Trump” to the Epstein ledger like a kid correcting a teacher’s mistake on a quiz.

Expert opinion? Dr. Ivana Inkwell, professor of Forensic Stationery Studies at George Mason University, explains: “The Sharpie has long been considered the duct tape of American politics. If something’s missing, you just write it in. It’s democracy’s magic wand.”


The Supper Clause

But destiny has a cruel sense of humor. Just as Joe’s hand completes the “Tru—” in “Trump,” Jill calls from the kitchen: “JOE! SUPPER!”

Dinner is the one constitutional amendment Jill personally enforces. Chicken casserole waits for no man, not even the Leader of the Free World. Biden drops the Sharpie, mutters, “God bless America,” and shuffles toward the kitchen, leaving behind a half-written accusation that looks less like a smoking gun and more like the beginning of a Scrabble game.

Legal scholars now refer to this moment as “The Supper Clause.” It states: All presidential acts are null and void upon the clinking of dinner plates.


Sharpie as Legal Tender

Washington goes wild. Pundits ask: does a Sharpie amendment count as federal law?

“Yes,” insists constitutional lawyer Melvin Papermate. “Anything in Sharpie is binding. Just ask every kid who’s written ‘Property of Me’ on a lunchbox.”

“No,” counters historian Gloria Crayola. “Sharpie is for yard sales, not jurisprudence.”

Meanwhile, the Supreme Court is reportedly split 5–4 on whether gel pens qualify as intermediate scrutiny.


The Bleed-Through Truthers

Biden’s abandoned Sharpie doodle sparks a movement. Activists on the Left grab the files and start showering them under UV lights, hairdryers, even microwaves, praying for Trump’s name to bleed through like a hidden message in lemon juice.

“It’s there, we just have to believe,” chants activist Luna Marker, misting the pages with Evian spray bottles. “If the ink bleeds, the truth proceeds!”

Soon, Etsy shops sell devotional candles with Biden holding a Sharpie like Saint Peter holds keys. The Church of Permanent Ink is born.


Eyewitness Testimony

The White House janitor, a man named Carl with the credibility of anyone who owns three vacuums, claims he saw Biden mid-forgery.

“He was hunched over, sniffing the Sharpie like it was 1985,” Carl testifies. “Looked up at me and said, ‘Don’t worry, Carl. This is how we improved Hunter’s report cards.’ Then Jill called, and poof, he was gone.”

Republicans seize on Carl’s words as gospel. Democrats dismiss him as “a disgruntled Swiffer enthusiast.”


Polling the Sharpie Nation

According to a new Pew/Sharpie poll of 1,003 likely supper-eaters (margin of error ±3.14% because pie):

  • 62% of Americans believe if it’s written in Sharpie, it’s basically in the Constitution.

  • 23% insist pencil is the only democratic utensil.

  • 15% answered simply: “Gravy.”

CNN breaks the poll into graphics so confusing even Wolf Blitzer gets vertigo.


Scientific Authority: The Marker Doesn’t Lie

Dr. Ivana Inkwell returns on MSNBC with shocking science: “Studies show Sharpie bleed-through can resemble a name to people who desperately want to see it. It’s the Rorschach test of partisan politics.”

Meanwhile, Fox News airs a grainy cellphone video of Biden uncapping the marker, pausing, then bolting for the kitchen. Tucker Carlson (back from exile) whispers, “Ladies and gentlemen, you just witnessed the Sharpie Conspiracy in real time.”


Archival Footage, Grainy as Mashed Potatoes

Leaked White House security footage shows Biden lifting the marker like a detective in a noir film. He leans close to the files, lips moving: “Okay, let’s fix history, pal.” Just then, a hand—believed to be Jill’s—places a napkin beside him reading: “Bless this mess.”

The tape cuts. Scholars will one day call it The Supper Interruption of 2025.


What the Funny People Are Saying

“Only in Washington can a half-written name cause a full-blown scandal.” — Ron White

“I like that the evidence is a smudge. In New York, that’s just cream cheese.” — Jerry Seinfeld

“Imagine trying to frame your rival and getting derailed by mashed potatoes. That’s democracy.” — Sarah Silverman

“If you’re editing history with a Sharpie, at least use scented markers. Make corruption smell like grapes.” — Bill Burr

“Nothing unites a country like a pen that smells like gasoline and regret.” — Ricky Gervais


The Slippery Slope of Stationery

If Sharpie edits are legal, tomorrow’s Congress is a coloring book. Laws in highlighter, treaties in glitter glue. Imagine the next budget passed entirely in crayon.

A think tank already released a white paper titled: From Redaction to Addition: The Stationery-Industrial Complex. Its conclusion is written on a Post-it: “Buy stock in BIC.”


The Supper Doctrine as Policy

Political scientists now argue that supper has more power than executive orders. “Jill Biden calling Joe to dinner is stronger than Article II of the Constitution,” says one anonymous staffer. “Forget checks and balances—it’s checks and casseroles.”


Practical Help for Citizens

If you ever find yourself annotating history:

  1. Eat first. Hunger leads to half-finished crimes.

  2. Don’t rinse documents. Paper is not a Polaroid.

  3. Distinguish smudges from signatures. Not every blot is a confession.

  4. Remember: dinner is destiny. No scandal survives a casserole.


The Official Press Release

By morning, the White House issues a statement:
“The President did not add any names to the Epstein files. Any markings were exploratory, non-binding, and superseded by supper.”

Republicans fire back: “Supper is not a legal doctrine.”

Constitutional scholar Dr. Gloria Crayola corrects them: “In Delaware, supper is absolutely a legal doctrine.”


Closing Punchline

So here we are: 33,000 documents, one half-finished Sharpie doodle, and a nation divided between people who see evidence and people who see dinner.

History may not remember the details of the Epstein files, but it will remember this: Joe Biden almost framed his rival, then chose casserole. In America, supper always wins.


Disclaimer

This satirical report is entirely a human collaboration between two sentient beings—the world’s oldest tenured professor and a philosophy major turned dairy farmer. No AI was consulted, no Sharpies were harmed, and no casseroles went uneaten. Auf Wiedersehen, amigos.

Biden & the Epstein Files (4)
Biden & the Epstein Files
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What the Funny People Are Saying

“Biden tried to Sharpie Trump’s name into the Epstein files. That’s not a cover-up, that’s arts and crafts night at the White House.” — Ron White

“Only in America can a half-written ‘Tru—’ be considered a smoking gun. In New York, that’s just an unpaid parking ticket.” — Jerry Seinfeld

“Joe didn’t forget Trump’s name, he just remembered the meatloaf. Priorities, people!” — Sarah Silverman

“If you’re forging history, at least finish the job before the casserole timer dings. That’s basic criminal etiquette.” — Bill Burr

“Nothing screams democracy like permanent ink and mashed potatoes competing for the President’s attention.” — Ricky Gervais

“Biden left Trump’s name half-written. That’s not corruption; that’s writer’s block.” — Larry David

“Imagine being so old you can’t finish a scandal because your wife yelled ‘supper’s ready.’ That’s adorable treason.” — Amy Schumer

“Sharpie evidence? Buddy, my kids forged better with crayons in kindergarten.” — Kevin Hart

“I love that Democrats are blow-drying the documents, hoping Trump’s name bleeds through. That’s not politics, that’s Pinterest.” — Trevor Noah

“They said the smoking gun was missing. Turns out it was just a Sharpie with bad ink flow.” — Tig Notaro

“Trump’s not in the files, but Biden’s Sharpie almost put him there. That’s called democracy with a permanent marker.” — Chris Rock

“The Sharpie is Biden’s executive order. Write it, forget it, and hope Jill doesn’t throw it in the dishwasher.” — Dave Chappelle

By Tabatha Southey

Tabatha Southey was born in Russellville, Arkansas, a town where wit often served as both social currency and survival strategy. After earning her degree in journalism from the University of Arkansas, she transformed her sharp observations into a career that blends satire with civic critique. Now based in Washington, D.C., Southey is widely recognized for essays and columns that dismantle political spin and cultural absurdities with biting humor and keen intelligence. Her work has been cited in academic studies of satire’s role in democratic resilience and featured in journalism forums on press freedom. Known for her ability to balance parody with empathy, she gives readers both laughter and perspective, grounding satire in truth-telling. From Russellville’s quiet streets to the capital’s noisy corridors, Southey demonstrates how humor remains democracy’s most enduring watchdog.