I couldn’t go with something simple and dignified to pay tribute to Ryan Owens, the fallen Navy SEAL who died in the ill-fated Yemen mission.  No, I said, we have to have the widow here, with tears streaming down her face. What a great visual!  A truly powerful moment that’ll evoke extended applause.  And I knew we could get it.  I actually said that, and here it is!  Many people have told me I deserve a lot of credit for it.  I did it when nobody said I could.

People said she wouldn’t come, but I knew we could get her.  I always knew I could.  Because nobody wants to believe their spouse died in vain or because of a terrible screw-up.  So when everyone else was saying the mission was a disaster — especially  John McCain, where is that bastard? — I was saying it was a great success.  I told Carryn that her husband did not die in vain, that he was part of a highly successful mission.  And it was so successful, it really was.  We didn’t kill that ISIS guy we wanted to get, but we got lots of Intel.  A lot of Intel.  That’s what the generals tell me.  The same generals who lost him because they wanted to do the mission — not me– they wanted to do it, and they lost Ryan.  It was foolhardy, but not my fault.  A bad decision — theirs, not mine!  It was their fault, not mine!

People say I was too casual in approving the mission over dinner.  That’s not true.  I remember everything about it.  It came up twice.  The first time was during the salad course.  I remember distinctly.  Bannon even made a joke about going after Radical Balsamic Terrorists.  Then they asked me for my final approval over dessert.  I had the creme brulee.  It was exquisite.  The top crust, you know where they torch it, was done to perfection — caramelize but without that burnt taste you sometimes get, and the rest of it was soft and creamy and sweet.  So sweet.  Which reminds me, I’d like to pay tribute to the woman I’ve always loved — in all ways, since the moment I first laid eyes on her.  She’s up there in the gallery with Mrs. Owens — my daughter, Ivanka!