President Donald Trump Shares WILD Video Featuring Former President Obama Being Arrested, Handcuffed By FBI in An Al,...
President Donald Trump has shared what appears to be an AI-generated video of FBI agents arresting and cuffing former President Barack Obama.
The video begins with Obama, as well as other Democrats, including former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, saying repeatedly that “no one is above the law.”
Seconds later in the video, Trump and Obama are seated in what looks like the Oval Office, circa January 2017, when Obama was set to leave office and Trump was about to begin his first term.
The ‘agents,’ wearing FBI jackets, move Obama out of his chair and to the floor, where they proceed to place him in handcuffs as the ’70s-era disco hit “YMCA” by the Village People plays and a headline reads, “No One Is Above the Law.”
Later in the video, which was originally posted to Trump’s Truth Social page, Obama is shown behind bars wearing an orange ‘prison’ jumpsuit.
WATCH:
Trump posted the video amid media appearances this week by Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard, who has released new disclosures from the government’s “Crossfire Hurricane” investigation into the 2016 election, otherwise known as alleged “Trump-Russia collusion,” which have revealed a stunning admission from top Obama-era officials.
A newly declassified memo, released Friday by Gabbard, shows that U.S. intelligence officials concluded Russia did not play a significant role in Donald Trump’s victory over Hillary Clinton. The document is the clearest proof yet that officials inside the Obama administration had serious doubts about Russian interference, even as they pressed forward with the investigation anyway.
The memo, dated 2016, told then-President Obama directly that “Russian and criminal actors did not impact recent US election results by conducting malicious cyber activities against election infrastructure.”
While it acknowledges prior reporting about a possible breach of Illinois voter rolls and failed targeting attempts in other states, the memo clearly states that those efforts never touched voting systems—and didn’t come close to altering results.
“The targeting of infrastructure not used in casting ballots makes it highly unlikely it would have resulted in altering any state’s official vote,” the document reads. It goes further: “Criminal activity also failed to reach the scale and sophistication necessary to change election outcomes.”
The disclosure is a major vindication for Trump, who has long argued that the Russia collusion narrative was a hoax pushed by the Clinton campaign and Obama intelligence officials to sabotage his presidency before it began.
Pressure is now building on those who pushed the hoax.
FBI officials are preparing the groundwork for a possible criminal investigation into former CIA Director John Brennan, former FBI Director James Comey, and others involved in launching and running the Crossfire Hurricane probe.
According to a release from current CIA Director John Ratcliffe, career intelligence officials say Brennan deliberately kept parts of the investigation secret from other agencies and aggressively pushed to include the now-debunked Steele dossier—a document that falsely claimed connections between Trump and Russian agents.
A 200-page congressional audit has been compiled after a secret meeting last weekend between DOJ and intelligence officials. They’re now looking at whether to declassify even more documents, including Crossfire Hurricane notes and transcripts from special counsel John Durham’s investigation, which concluded in 2023 that the Trump–Russia connection was baseless.
My husband kicked me out of our mansion barefoot while his mistress wore my diamond necklace and laughed
My husband kicked me out of our mansion barefoot while his mistress wore my diamond necklace and laughed. I called my billionaire father from the rain and said, “Dad, reclaim it all.” Before midnight, the gates locked behind them—and the mansion no longer belonged to him.
The rain was so cold that night it felt like needles cutting through my skin, but the stone steps beneath my bare feet were colder.
Behind me, the mansion doors slammed shut with a sound so final that every servant in the hallway froze, every chandelier above the entrance trembled, and my marriage died right there on the front porch.
“Don’t stand there looking pathetic,” my husband, Adrian, said from the doorway.
He was still wearing the black suit I had chosen for him that morning. The same suit I had straightened at breakfast while he smiled and told me he had a late business dinner. Now his arm was wrapped around Vanessa’s waist, and Vanessa was wearing my diamond necklace.
Not a necklace like mine.
Mine.
The blue diamond pendant my mother left me before she died rested against Vanessa’s collarbone as if betrayal had decided to dress elegantly.
She touched it with her red nails and laughed.
“Honestly, Claire,” she said, leaning into my husband, “you should be grateful. At least he let you leave with your dignity.”
I looked down at myself. My silk dress was torn at the sleeve. My hair was soaked. My feet were bleeding from the gravel. My dignity was somewhere behind those locked doors, buried under ten years of lies.
Adrian stepped forward, his face twisted with impatience. “This mansion, this life, this name—you had all of it because of me. And now I’m done pretending you belong here.”
Something inside my chest cracked, but it was not weakness.
It was the sound of the last chain breaking.
“You’re making a mistake,” I whispered.
Vanessa burst out laughing. “She still thinks she’s important.”
Adrian’s mouth curved into a cruel smile. “By morning, you’ll understand exactly how unimportant you are. Your cards are canceled. Your accounts are frozen. Your phone plan ends tonight. Walk wherever you want.”
Then he tossed my purse into the puddle at my feet.
The servants looked away.
No one moved.
No one helped.
I bent down, picked up the soaked purse, and searched inside with shaking fingers. My phone screen was cracked, but it still turned on.
Adrian saw it and scoffed. “Who are you going to call? The police? A lawyer? Your imaginary friends?”
I did not answer him.
I pressed one number I had not used in three years.
The call connected on the second ring.
A deep voice answered, calm and powerful. “Claire?”
I closed my eyes as rain ran down my face, mixing with tears I refused to let them see.
“Dad,” I said, my voice steady now. “Take it all back.”
There was silence.
Then my father said only two words.
“Finally, sweetheart.”
At that exact moment, the mansion lights flickered once, and Adrian’s smile disappeared.
What Adrian never understood was that the mansion had secrets deeper than its marble floors, and the woman he threw into the rain was not the woman he thought he owned. One phone call had awakened everything he had built his throne upon, and by midnight, someone would be begging at the same gates he had locked against me. The rest of the story is below
He Stepped Over His Pregnant Wife To Save His Mistress—Then His Mother Proved The Betrayal Was Never An Accident.
He Stepped Over His Pregnant Wife To Save His Mistress—Then His Mother Proved The Betrayal Was Never An Accident.
The mistress shoved the pregnant wife on the mansion staircase, and her scream cracked through the foyer before anyone even touched her.
She slid down only two carpeted steps, but the fall stole the breath from her chest.
Both arms wrapped around her belly.
Her cream dress twisted beneath her.
One hand clawed at the runner as pain flashed across her face.
The mistress stood one step above her, still holding the railing, her black dress perfect, her eyes cold.
Then the husband rushed in.
For one desperate second, his wife reached for him.
Her fingers trembled in the warm chandelier light.
She was crying so hard she could barely breathe.
But he passed her.
He passed his pregnant wife lying on the landing like she was not even there.
He knelt beside the mistress and pulled her into his arms.
“Are you okay?”
The words hit harder than the fall.
His wife stared at him from the floor, her makeup streaked with tears, one palm still pressed over the child he had not even asked about.
Behind him, the mistress leaned into his chest and hid a small victorious smile against his lapel.
That was when the wife understood something cruel.
He had not failed to see her pain.
He had chosen whose pain mattered.
“You saw her push me,” she whispered.
He heard her.
Everyone would have heard her in that silent foyer.
But he tightened his hold around the mistress instead.
In that family, betrayal never called itself betrayal.
It called itself avoiding drama.
Protecting appearances.
Keeping private things private.
The camera drifted toward the staircase.
The truth was still standing there.
The mistress’s heel remained planted on the exact step where she had blocked the path.
Her hand was still tense around the railing.
Her body had not even finished confessing what her mouth would deny.
Still, the husband refused to look.
His wife’s expression shifted from pain to silent shock.
Not because the evidence was missing.
Because it was right there, and he still chose the lie.
Then his mother hurried in from the foyer entrance.
Elegant.
Wealthy.
Cold enough to make cruelty look like manners.
The pregnant wife looked up at her, hoping some part of the older woman would soften.
But the mother-in-law stepped past her without lowering her eyes.
Not one glance.
Not one question.
Not one hand offered to help her up.
She stopped in front of the mistress and touched her cheek with relief.
“Thank God you’re safe.”
The foyer went dead quiet.
The wife’s mouth parted slightly.
No words came out.
She lay frozen on the landing, one arm over her belly, tears cooling on her face, while the man she married held another woman and his mother blessed it.
The fall had hurt.
The shove had humiliated her.
But that sentence destroyed the last illusion she had left.
They had not misunderstood what happened.
They had decided it did not matter.
And in that golden mansion foyer, beneath the chandelier and the perfect curved staircase, the pregnant wife finally saw the truth clearly.
She had never been part of their family.
She had only been the woman they expected to suffer quietly while they protected the mistress.
