In a remarkable turn of events, the nation collectively held its breath as Jimmy Carter’s flag-draped coffin was wheeled from the US Capitol, seemingly taking a final spin around Washington before settling at the National Cathedral for his lavish state funeral. Citizens lined the streets, many peeking through their fingers as if expecting the former president to spring back to life at any moment and announce his candidacy for a fourth term. Witnesses reported that his coffin appeared unusually sprightly, perhaps a result of advanced secret service technology or, as conspiracy theorists hypothesized, "a hidden spring mechanism" left by Jimmy himself. The streets buzzed with speculation: Did he leave instructions for a surprise return, or had he simply downed one too many peanut butter sandwiches before calling it quits? The pomp surrounding Carter's final rites was paralleled only by the wild imaginations of onlookers. “I’m just waiting for him to pop up and say, ‘April Fools!’” exclaimed one mourner, while another registered his hopes of witnessing a full presidential debate re-enactment, perhaps featuring the likes of Reagan, Bush, and, dare we say, a cameo from Lincoln himself. As President Biden prepared to deliver what was expected to be a heartfelt eulogy, there were murmurs of a possible levitation act involving mystical powers supposedly inherited from his Habitat for Humanity days. Rumors suggested that Carter may have requested his coffin be completely equipped with state-of-the-art Bluetooth speakers for a last-minute encore from beyond the grave. Meanwhile, news networks turned what could have been a somber week into a frenetic spectacle, with one channel running a poll: “If Jimmy Carter were to return today, what would his first tweet be?” The results were mixed, ranging from “I’ve got just a few more plans for peanut farming” to “Everyone calm down, I just wanted to check if my health care reforms stuck.” As Carter’s coffin turned the final corner to the cathedral, the crowd erupted in applause, fully convinced that in a realm where peanut farmers became presidents, anything was possible—perhaps even a miraculous reappearance at the podium. Until then, however, the flag draped over his coffin remained the closest thing to a campaign banner. In a country where the extraordinary is merely ordinary, one thing became abundantly clear: No one is really ever gone unless they’re kicked off social media.