Trump Ranks #1 On Iran’s Kill List

Trump Ranks #1 On Iran’s Kill List, Says He’d Rather Be #1 On TikTok

Somewhere between a NATO photo op, a six-day funeral, and a plane that apparently changes its mind about existing, President Donald J. Trump had quite the week of confirming, once again, that he is extremely famous and extremely aware of it.

“I’m number one on the kill list for Iran,” Trump told reporters, in the tone of a man announcing his Nielsen rating. “I don’t really care because I’m doing my job. I like being number one on TikTok better, but I’m number one on the list for killing.” Somewhere, a media consultant is drafting a slide titled “Engagement Metrics vs. Mortality Metrics” and quietly weeping.

Call it algorithmic envy: the first known instance of a sitting president wishing his own assassination plot had better analytics.

The $400 Million Napkin Sketch

Medium Shot. Donald Trump stands at a podium. A speech bubble reads 'I'm number one on the kill list for Iran. I'd rather be number one on TikTok.' Behind him, a chart shows 'Engagement Metrics vs. Mortality Metrics.' A media consultant weeps. A second chart reads 'Nielsen Rating vs. Assassination Ranking.'
“I’d rather be #1 on TikTok,” says Trump of Iran’s kill list.

Lest anyone think Iranian tradecraft has gotten more sophisticated since the Soleimani strike, DOJ footage shows one alleged plotter demonstrating his master plan with a vape pen placed on a napkin, informing undercover agents, “This is the target. How will it die?” He paid a $5,000 advance and, when an agent said “now we’re bonded,” replied simply “yes.” Somewhere, the world’s most expensive intelligence apparatus is being outpaced by a guy with a napkin and a Juul.

Meanwhile the plot Israel just flagged as fresh and specific turns out to be, depending on which official you ask, either urgent, “more general,” or — per Carnegie’s own analysts — “more aspirational than operational,” which is the diplomatic equivalent of your gym membership.

The Bribe Plane Fails Its Road Test — Twice

For over a year the administration hyped its free Qatari 747 as the crown jewel of presidential travel. The instant the itinerary got within missile range of an angry theocracy, Trump quietly climbed back onto the old plane and sent the gift jet ahead like a body double auditioning for a job it didn’t want. This isn’t even the first time — in 2024, the campaign used a decoy plane belonging to now-envoy Steve Witkoff, and staff reportedly only realized the boss had bailed when they noticed his empty window seat. Two elections, two administrations, one recurring gag: the President keeps a spare aircraft around the way normal people keep a spare tire.

White House comms director Steven Cheung explained the switch wasn’t fear, it was strategy: “We use every tool at our disposal — including distraction and misdirection.” Trump’s version was that the new jet flew ahead “so the soldiers can see it because it’s truly magnificent” — a Yelp review for a free gift he’s contractually obligated to enjoy. Two cover stories, 24 hours, zero consistency. A malapropism of reassurance so pure it should be studied in PR school as a cautionary tale.

Bonus: independent estimates put the retrofit at anywhere from $400 million to nearly $1 billion, reportedly dipping into the Sentinel nuclear-missile budget to make the timeline work. Nothing says “measured stewardship of taxpayer dollars” like flipping a plane faster than a home renovation show and hoping the missile-defense lasers made it into the final cut.

Miami, Meet Miami

Mourners in Mashhad reportedly hung a Trump bounty caricature at the foot of a hotel named, gloriously, “Miami.” Back in the actual Florida, Palm Beach International just got rebranded “President Donald J. Trump International” for a reported $5-plus million. So there are now two buildings on Earth named after the same six letters — one where they love him, one where they’d very much like him gone — and the branding budget appears identical either way.

The Pentagon Discovers Stand-Up

Long Shot. Two 747s sit on a runway. One labeled 'Qatari Gift Jet - $400M Retrofit.' Another labeled 'Old Reliable - Still Flying.' A speech bubble from Trump reads 'The soldiers can see it because it's truly magnificent.' A second bubble reads 'Also, it's a decoy.' A third reads 'Two cover stories, zero consistency.'
“Magnificent jet” is also decoy. Two cover stories, zero consistency.

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth announced the elimination of an alleged plotter with the enthusiasm of a man cutting a ribbon at a Chili’s: “Iran tried to kill President Trump, and President Trump got the last laugh.” Somewhere in the Gulf, a US submarine also sank an Iranian vessel literally named the Soleimani — a pun so on the nose the Navy should owe royalties. Trump, never one to leave a straight line unpunched, added: “I got him before he got me. They tried twice. Well, I got him first,” a sentence structure best filed under anagram of a playground argument, rearranged into official U.S. policy.

The operations themselves have names like energy drinks — “Epic Fury,” “Sledgehammer,” “Roaring Lion” — with one general reportedly joking Epic Fury ran on “2 million energy drinks.” At this point the Pentagon’s naming department and Red Bull’s marketing department may want to compare notes.

Selective Concern, A Case Study

Trump reportedly pulled Secret Service protection from former officials still on Iran’s target list while dramatizing his own danger daily. One lawmaker’s response: “It’s nice that he’s taking his own security seriously.” Somewhere, an actuary is drawing up a chart comparing presidential job risk to bull riding and NASCAR — a comparison Trump himself has made, apparently to reassure the public that his job is dangerous the way a sport is dangerous, and not the way “several foreign governments want you dead” is dangerous.

The Sleazebags Get the Blinds Down

Wide Aspect. A napkin with a crude drawing sits beside a vape pen. A speech bubble reads 'This is the target. How will it die?' An undercover agent replies 'Now we're bonded.' The Iranian plotter nods 'yes.' A second bubble reads '$5,000 advance. The world's most expensive intelligence apparatus outsmarted by a guy with a Juul.'
Iran’s $5,000 napkin plot. Outsmarted by a vape pen and Juul.

Reporters were reportedly told to keep window shades drawn during the flight — for their safety, Trump explained, “because you’re, you know, probably on a dangerous flight, because of the sleazebags that we have to deal with.” Whether “sleazebags” meant Iran, the press pool, or humanity broadly remains a double entendre efficient enough to cover every possible audience with one word.

And to the reporter who asked directly about the threat, Trump delivered what may be the finest piece of occupational safety guidance ever issued by a head of state: “I have a threat all the time. I’m number one on their list, before you. But if I go, you go. So, perhaps — perhaps some of you want to change professions.” HR departments everywhere are still drafting the memo.

Big Earl, working the club circuit out of Amarillo, summed it up at a recent open mic: “Only in America does the President’s pep talk sound like a hostage negotiation.” The room, reportedly, agreed without laughing, which is its own kind of laugh.

As for the underlying relationship strain — Trump has previously admitted calling Netanyahu “f—ing crazy,” with one source describing Bibi’s reaction as “his hair was on fire” — Netanyahu’s office nonetheless issued a statement this week about “continued coordination,” which is diplomatic for “we’re still speaking, mostly.”

Sources: CNNThe Daily BeastThe White HouseAl-MonitorAxios

For the same story with more tea and considerably less Miami, see our sister publication Prat.uk.

Auf Wiedersehen, amigo!

Medium Shot. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth speaks. A speech bubble reads 'Iran tried to kill President Trump, and President Trump got the last laugh.' Behind him, a US submarine sinks an Iranian vessel named Soleimani. A pun so on the nose the Navy owes royalties. Trump adds 'I got him before he got me.'
“Trump got the last laugh,” says Hegseth. Navy sinks Soleimani. Puns.
Close-Up. Big Earl, a comedian from Amarillo, holds a microphone. A speech bubble reads 'Only in America does the President's pep talk sound like a hostage negotiation.' The crowd nods without laughing. A sign reads 'If I go, you go - HR Memo Pending.'
“If I go, you go,” says Trump. HR drafting the memo.

By Jack Handey

Jack Handey was born in the smallest town in Arizona, a place so forgotten by cartographers that locals had to mail postcards from the next county just to prove they existed. Growing up surrounded by tumbleweeds and a one-room schoolhouse that doubled as a post office, Jack developed a knack for finding absurdity in everyday life. His first audience was a group of cattle, who reportedly laughed harder than some late-night crowds. He left town with a notebook full of surreal one-liners and returned years later as a cult hero, known for his off-kilter “Deep Brain” that made Live Tonight Comedy a stranger, funnier place. Audiences describe him as “the wisdom of a desert sage filtered through a cracked cactus.” Today, Handey remains the pride of Arizona’s smallest town, proof that even the tiniest dots on the map can produce the biggest laughs. CONTACT: jack@handey.top