WASHINGTON D.C. - In a development that would make even Fox Mulder raise an eyebrow, the long-awaited Epstein client list has mysteriously disappeared following what can only be described as a scene straight out of a science fiction movie.
The bizarre incident was witnessed by Raymond "Ray-Ray" Jackson (no relation to Ms. Jackson and her daughter, who were popularized by the musical group Outkast), a local street resident known for his signature Ray-Ban sunglasses and uncanny ability to be in the right place at the wrong time. According to Ray-Ray, who spoke to The Daily Howe-itzer on condition that we mention his GoFundMe for new shopping cart wheels, the encounter occurred late Thursday night outside Attorney General Pam Bondi's office.
"I was just minding my own business, you know, conducting my nightly security patrol of the neighborhood," Ray-Ray explained, adjusting his ever-present sunglasses. "When I see the AG lady coming out with this big briefcase, looking all official and stuff."
According to Ray-Ray's account, Bondi had just exited the building when a black sedan pulled up with government plates. Two men emerged: an older white male in a crisp suit and a younger Black male, both wearing the kind of dark sunglasses that scream "federal agent" or "movie villain."
"At first it was just talking, but then things got heated real quick," Ray-Ray continued. "The lady was holding onto that briefcase like it contained the last slice of pizza on Earth. But then the younger guy, he winds up and slaps her with the kind of force that would make Will Smith proud. SMACK! Just like that Oscar night, except with more government style."
The briefcase immediately changed hands, but according to Ray-Ray, the real show was just beginning.
"That's when the older dude pulls out this thing that looked like a fancy pen or something. Next thing I know, there's this bright flash - I'm talking brighter than a thousand suns. Thank God for these Ray-Bans, because otherwise I would've been blind as hell."
Ray-Ray reported that following the mysterious flash, Bondi's entire demeanor changed. The woman who had been desperately fighting for the briefcase moments earlier now seemed perfectly content to continue her evening stroll, acting as if nothing had happened.
"It was like watching someone flip a switch," Ray-Ray observed. "One second she's fighting like her life depends on it, the next she's walking away singing and smiling big, like she just met up with her best friend.
The men in black then conducted what appeared to be a security sweep of the area, but Ray-Ray managed to avoid detection by employing what he calls "advanced urban camouflage techniques" (hiding behind a tree).
An anonymous source within the Attorney General's office, who insisted on the code name "Deep Throat 2: Electric Boogie-Woogie," confirmed that the Epstein files were scheduled for release the following day. The source indicated that Bondi had taken the complete client list home for a final review before making it public.
"She was really excited about it," the source revealed. "She kept saying things like 'Tomorrow's gonna be a big day' and 'Justice is finally coming.' She even ordered one of those fancy celebration cakes from the bakery down the street."
However, when staff arrived at the office the next morning, they found Bondi sitting at her desk, staring blankly at her computer screen with no recollection of any Epstein-related files or investigation.
"It was like she had been factory reset," the anonymous source explained. "She kept asking who Jeffrey Epstein was and why people were calling about some list. We showed her the files on her computer, but she just stared at them like they were written in hieroglyphics."
Federal health officials were called in to assess Bondi's condition and have concluded that while she appears to be in perfect physical and mental health, she has no memory of working on the Epstein case or even being aware of its existence.
FBI agents were also dispatched to investigate the missing files, but their search has yielded no results. The digital copies have mysteriously vanished from all government servers, and backup files appear to have been corrupted beyond recovery.
"It's like the list never existed," said one frustrated FBI agent who spoke on condition of anonymity. "We've got more deleted files than Hillary Clinton's email server."
After conducting extensive research and consulting with experts in both government conspiracies and 1990s science fiction films, The Daily Howe-itzer has concluded that the mysterious agents likely employed a neurolyzer - a memory-erasing device popularized in the Men in Black film franchise.
While we cannot confirm the identity or affiliation of these agents, several clues suggest they may be operating under the authority of a shadowy organization with access to advanced technology and really good dry-cleaning services.
The investigation continues, and The Daily Howe-itzer remains committed to uncovering the truth behind this incident. We will not rest until these men in black are identified and held accountable for their actions, or until we get bored and move on to covering the next big story.
In the meantime, Ray-Ray has been placed in protective custody at an undisclosed location (the park bench by the fountain) and continues to provide valuable intelligence while working on his memoirs, tentatively titled "Shades of Truth: A Ray-Ray Jackson Story."
Anyone with information about suspicious federal agents, missing government documents, or really good sunglasses is encouraged to contact The Daily Howe-itzer's tip line.
The Daily Howe-itzer is committed to bringing you the news that mainstream media won't touch, probably for good reason.