Einstein scribbled out a couple of his equations, and was admitted into paradise.
And when Picasso died, St. Peter asked, "How do I know you're Picasso?"
Picasso sketched out a couple of his masterpieces. St. Peter was convinced and let him in.
When George W. Bush died, he went to heaven and met the man at the gates. "How can you prove to me you're George W. Bush?" Saint Peter said.
Bush replied, "Well heck, I dont know."
St. Peter says, "Well, Albert Einstein showed me his equations and Picasso drew his famous pictures. What can you do to prove you're George W. Bush?"
Bush replies, "Who are Albert Einstein and Picasso?"
St. Peter says, "It must be you, George, c'mon on in."
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be blunt: Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year."
Visibly shaken, Hillary stared at the woman's lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She simply had to know. She met the fortuneteller's gaze, steadied her voice, and asked her question.
"Will I be acquitted?"
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