I did more for Chicago than any mayor before me,” said Lori Lightfoot, as an anonymous soldier put a noose around his neck and tightened the rope just enough so he could still speak. His hands were cuffed behind his back so he couldn’t claw at the staff like a frenzied badger.
“That statement is as absurd as trying to drink from a colander,” Vice Admiral Darse E. Crandall said.
Lightfoot was yapping about how Chicago, under his rule, had experienced unparalleled safety and prosperity due to his transformative policies, which, he said, saved millions of lives during times of Covid. He refuted that he was an authoritarian, a dictator, and said “Trump’s people” had sabotaged his election campaign—because they wanted Chicago reduced to ashes, which could not happen under his magnanimous rule.
“I see what’s really happened here,” Lightfoot said, glowering at the ensemble of military brass that had come to witness the execution. “I was doing too good a job, and you people knew, you knew that it was preordained that one day I would be President of the United States.”
A three-star Army general whispered to Adm. Crandall.
“That’s about as likely to happen as Obama parachuting out of the sky to save you,” Adm. Crandall said.
Lightfoot narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t earned the right to speak his name.”
“Yeah, that’s what we figured,” the admiral said cryptically.
A Navy chaplain atop the platform asked Lightfoot if he wanted Last Rites. Lightfoot glared speechlessly at him. His piercing gaze, those bulbous eyes bulging from their sockets, momentarily paralyzed the chaplain, who, after a few catatonic moments, said he would pray for Lightfoot’s soul as he left the platform. He murmured something about a palpable evil in Lightfoot’s eyes, marking the second time in two years—the first occurred at Gavin Newsom’s hanging—a Navy chaplain had seen an unnatural presence lurking within the condemned and the damned.
“Let’s get this over with,” Adm. Crandall said. “Carry out the execution.”
“You can suck my d***,” Lightfoot barked.
The soldier standing beside Lightfoot pushed a button, and the pivoting door beneath Lightfoot’s feet swung open, causing him to drop. Lightfoot’s neck snapped, his mouth agape. A Navy physician marked the time of death: 10:45 a.m., Friday, April 14, 2023.