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Let me tell you ’bout a man named Jack Kennedy. He was a handsome feller, most smart and humorous and serious all at t’ same time. He had all those qualities that help you become pres’dent of the United States – beautiful wife, too. Shur ’nuff, he did become pres’dent, by a whisker in th’ election of 1960. He whipped that sonofabitch Nixon, he did – whipped him by a margin ’bout as wide as my pinkie finger here. Dick Nixon wan’t so happy ’bout that. He din’t know that three years later, sump’m would happen would make him pres’dent after all. What that sump’m was is the story I want to tell you ’bout.

Jackie and President Jack Kennedy land at Orly Airport, Paris, on May 31, 1961.

Y’see, Jack Kennedy was ‘sassinated by his own people in ’63. That’s right, his own people turned on ‘im and said, “Man, we got to fire you.” Only way to fire a pres’dent is to kill ‘im. So that’s what they did – jus’ like Jules Caesar. They din’t trust ‘im.

You gonna say, “C’mon, that don’t happen now’days. Least ways it don’t happen in the dem’cratic ‘public of these United States. It only comes ‘bout ‘n countries like VeetNam and South Asia and those African places. Can’t happen here.”

You don’t think so. Listen to my story, then you tell me ’bout p’litical ‘sassinations. They can happen ‘most anywhere. When they do happen, watch out.

“What do you mean, watch out?”

I’ll tell you ’bout that later. Listen to th’story th‘sassination itself. It’s enough to curlup yer toes.