Well, we got him – Nicolás Maduro that is. Now what do we do with him? That’s not as simple to answer as it may seem. Let me phrase the question a bit differently: How do we deliver justice, with a system which is demonstrably unreliable at the business of “equal justice under law”? If Maduro had gotten a smiling picture taken with the Donald at Mar-a-Logo, the case would be a slam dunk. But in a system populated by “resistance” warriors like Jeb Boasberg, Paula Xinis, Fanni Willis, Latitia James, and Alvan Bragg, I’m not so sure.
I’d like to provide a whimsical forecast of how the forces of justice and corruption might interact over the next 12 months in the matter of Drug Dealer Nick Maduro.
Since Nick was indicted in the Big Apple, I assume the Maduro festival of absurdity will begin in a New York courtroom. After all, why wouldn’t we want to try a communist in a city that just elected a communist? At least Maduro will get a jury of his peers.
Our drug runner from the south will likely be represented by well-known defender of democracy, attorney Jack Smith. During opening arguments, Smith will reveal his strategy by referencing the name “Donald Trump” just under 300 times. It will be the “prosecutors got the wrong guy” defense.
While Jack spends his days arguing that Drug Dealer Nick is a misunderstood social justice warrior simply trying to serve his people, Mayor Mamdani will spend his evenings conducting candlelight vigils on the courthouse steps. The gatherings will be called “kindred spirit vigils” and will be attended by both Jack Smith and the presiding judge. Thousands of starving, unemployed, empire state citizens whose empires all moved to Florida, will hold candles, and sing hymns of solidarity about Drug Dealer Nick every night.
Smith will eventually win acquittal for his client by invoking the name “Trump” over 700 times during his closing argument. The jury will only deliberate for as long as it takes to count the number of times the President of the United States was called the “real criminal” at trial. The presiding judge will order the immediate release of Maduro, expressing his apology for the illegal actions of President Trump, AG Bondi, and DoW Secretary Hegseth.
While telling reporters on the courthouse steps that he was always confident of his acquittal, Nick will be interrupted by a swarm of FBI agents, who will handcuff him, and stuff him into a black SUV. The presiding judge will try to intervene, and be arrested himself.
A few hours later, AG Bondi will hold a presser to reveal that she has unsealed an extradition request from El Salvador, which has been approved by Secretary of State Rubio. She’ll conclude her remarks by informing the propaganda ministry reporters that Drug Dealer Nick (her words) is already on a plane, and has left U.S. airspace.
Just after Nick receives his flip flops and white jammies at CECOT (Centro de Confinamiento del Terrorismo), Judge Jeb Boasberg will decide that his jurisdiction extends to El Salvador. He’ll order President Bukele to release El Presidente Maduro rápidamente. Boasberg with threaten to hold the President of El Salvador in contempt if he fails to comply in a timely fashion (i.e. right now). Jeb will also order the Trump administration to provide 1st class transport back to the good ole US of A. He’ll further order that Maduro be provided luxury accommodations, somewhere in the United States, other than Washington DC or Martha’s Vineyard.
Drug Dealer Nick will learn of his good fortune while receiving his first prison tat: a stylized rendering of “Puta” on his forehead.
Being judicially obedient, President Trump will dispatch a C-17 Globemaster to retrieve Maduro. He’ll be determined not to give “El Presidente” and excuse to b*tch about leg room to his pal Jeb. That should prevent another contempt ruling from Judge Boasberg.
Unfortunately, shortly after takeoff, the plane will experience engine difficulties – having been last serviced in the workers paradise of New York. Not wishing to violate the Judge’s order by returning to El Salvador, the pilot will divert to the nearest friendly airfield capable of accommodating his massive jet – Caracas Venezuela.
While the aircraft is being repaired, local authorities will agree to host El Presidente Maduro, while the pilots get their mandatory 8-hour crew rest.
The next day, Drug Dealer Nick will be found inexplicably hanging upside down from a lamp post. There will be a hand-written sign attached to his neck: El karma recibe su merecido. Karma gets its due.
Check back again in 2027, and we’ll see how much of this came true. I’m guessing the actual trial of Nicolás Maduro will be far more absurd than this snarky piece.
Author Bio: John Green is a retired engineer and political refugee from Minnesota, now residing in Idaho. He spent his career designing complex defense systems, developing high performance organizations, and doing corporate strategic planning. He is a contributor to American Thinker, The American Spectator, and the American Free News Network. He can be reached at greenjeg@gmail.com.
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