How well I remember the moment of my predictable disgrace -- though I doubt the former President can say the same. I was among seven-score satraps and potentates invited to the Rose Garden to receive the Medal of Holography. In his inimicable style the President was milking the photo op like a sow. How was I to know that he was (so to speak) the genuine President? Where I come from we use stuntmen. If only I had noticed the cosmetic implants.
But then of course the world would never have possessed some truly memorable file footage, and Secret Service pensions might not be what they are today.
For the record, no actual shots were fired.