In the quiet town of Jackson, Mississippi, where excitement rarely strays beyond a solid tractor parade or a particularly crispy batch of fried chicken, an unusual event unfolded—one involving former President Donald Trump, an ear, and a whole lot of confusion.

During a typical Trump rally, where the MAGA hats were plentiful and the banners proudly waved, an unexpected noise rang out just as Trump was delivering his favorite topic—himself. To the untrained ear (and let’s be honest, most of the crowd wasn’t exactly on high alert), it sounded suspiciously like a gunshot.

In no time at all, the news spread like wildfire across town: “Trump shot in the ear!” Yes, you heard that right—the ear. It wasn’t the chest, head, or any of the usual assassin’s targets; it was the ear, of all places. But hey, maybe it was some disgruntled Democrat with impeccable aim or an underpaid assassin who failed to read the instructions properly.

Social media exploded with theories, from it being a botched assassination attempt to a desperate cry for better hearing aids for the former president. After all, how many times had Trump claimed he’d never heard of something most of us learned in kindergarten? The theories got wilder: Was it really a bullet, or could it have been a stray kernel of popcorn?

Unsurprisingly, Trump himself was quick to downplay the situation on his favorite platform, Truth Social. “They said I was shot. Big, loud noise. Tremendous. But let me tell you, it was nothing. Just a little scratch. My ears, by the way, are in perfect condition. The best ears, maybe ever,” he boasted with characteristic bravado, ensuring that even a non-event became headline news.

The plot thickened as supporters suggested the “bullet” had bounced off Trump’s famously thick skin, or perhaps it wasn’t a bullet at all, but just some gravel flung from the crowd. Conspiracy theorists had a field day, with one claiming, “It wasn’t a bullet, folks—it was a warning shot from the deep state. Next time they’ll aim for his hair!”

Local law enforcement, more accustomed to dealing with drunken football fans than potential presidential assassins, were equally baffled. “We’re still investigating,” Sheriff Jim “Bubba” Jenkins informed the press, looking puzzled. “We didn’t find no bullet, no gun, not even a slingshot. But we did find a hearing aid battery on the ground, so, you know, we’re not ruling anything out.”

Trump’s security team, left scrambling, tried to maintain their dignity. “We take every potential threat seriously,” one agent muttered, though their biggest current concern was whether Trump would start demanding bulletproof earmuffs for future rallies.

As the dust settled, it became clear that Trump’s “ear injury” was more of an inconvenience than a real threat. Some suggested Trump even enjoyed the whole ordeal—after all, what’s a Trump event without a bit of spectacle? And if there’s one thing Trump knows how to do, it’s turning even the most mundane incidents into major media moments.

In the end, Jackson returned to its usual, quieter self, and Trump’s ear survived the ordeal unscathed. The incident was quickly filed away in the annals of political history under “weird but true,” right alongside the time a pigeon pooped on a presidential motorcade.

So while the rest of the world goes back to fretting over the economy, climate change, and whether or not avocados will bankrupt us, Trump can rest easy knowing that his ears—those tremendous, beautiful ears—remain safe. And in the grand scheme of things, isn’t that what really matters?