Of course Melania Trump deserved the Einstein visa – she's the one who's going to save us all

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Following the horrific high school shooting in Florida a couple of weeks ago, there was inevitably a great deal of talk on social media about access to guns in the States. In among all the despair and frustration – and without undermining the awfulness of the whole terrible situation – one tweet made me smile; it was from the artist @MHRashman who simply wrote: “No one in America should have a gun. Except Melania. Melania can have a gun.”

And I bet Melania does have a gun – I bet she has a Colt 45 which she keeps in her underwear drawer. It will nestle, a cold, metal thing, among oyster-coloured satin teddies and slippery wisps of lacey thongage. Yes, I said thongage – you may start using this new word if you fancy.

I find Melania endlessly fascinating. No American First Lady has ever looked so much like a Russian spy. She belongs in a Bond film, one of those early seventies ones. I can see her wearing a big fur hat and not much else, running her manicured talons through Sean Connery’s abundant chest hair before kissing him with her poisonous glossy lips. Cut to Bond writhing in agony, a look of stunned betrayal in his bewildered brown eyes, while obviously still maintaining a sturdy erection.

Anyway, Melania has been in the news again over the past week, and this time people are questioning how the eight-foot Slovenian model managed to gain access to American citizenship via the EB-1, aka the “Einstein visa”.

The “Einstein visa” is a sort of Willy Wonka-ish prize-winning gold entry ticket normally reserved for foreign Pulitzer Prize winners, uber-boffins, Oscar-winning actors and Olympic medallists that allows the recipient to jump the immigration queue. Basically you have to be the very best in your field to qualify for one of these special visas, and it seems even supermodels can apply.

If I’m allowed to be pedantic here: when Melania was granted an EB-1 in 2001, she wasn’t actually a “supermodel”; she was more of a “jobbing model”.

Those of us who struggle to make it right to the top of our professional tree know exactly what this means: it means that one minute you’re auditioning for an hilarious German lager commercial which will pay your mortgage for a year (which you don’t get), and the next you’re performing in the foyer of an arts centre because not enough people have turned up to warrant putting out the chairs in the main hall.

But before this gets personal, let’s get back to Melania and why she deserved to be one of only five Slovenians awarded “Einstein” status 17 years ago.

For starters, it’s a well-documented fact that First Lady Trump speaks five languages (some of them apparently fluently). She also studied Design and Architecture, and we all know how long it takes to graduate as an architect: seven years. Melania lasted one, before bailing out and turning her hand, bum and tits to swimwear-modelling.

And who can blame her? She did at least put her design background to good use, by creating a range of jewellery for the television shopping channel QVC; after all, not all top-notch designers have to create something that will benefit the world.

OK, so The Bill Gates Foundation may have helped design a machine that converts sewer sludge into clean water for some of the millions of people around the world who don’t have access to safe drinking water, but who’s to say that providing a cheap pair of sparkly zircon earrings for the millions of women out there who can’t afford real diamonds isn’t equally important?

Apparently testimonials from the great and good can speed up the EB-1 process, and although the details of Melania’s application have never been published, it’s pretty obvious that Donald might have had a pudgy hand in it. Who better to attest to Melania’s supermodel skills than her boyfriend at the time?

For those wondering what constitutes a supermodel skill, it will definitely include the ability to look smoking hot in a string bikini (rather than something that washed up in a boat yard) while “strutting” (us mere mortals “walk”, supermodels “strut”) in a pair of shoes that have very fine knitting needles for heels.

But I refuse to believe that there isn’t more to Melania than all this. Deep down, I believe that she has other talents and that at the moment she’s just biding her time, watching and waiting until the day Donald Trump pushes it too far. Then we will see Melania, the silent assassin, turn.

In my head, the day the hot-dog-limbed Slovenian beauty cracks, she will wrap those endless pins around Donald’s big fat sweaty neck and just keep wrapping them.

Then, smiling and quite possibly flicking through a copy of Vogue at the same time, she will start squeezing with those thighs that have launched a million squats, until Donald begs for mercy and Melania might let him live – on certain conditions, which begin with him resigning.

Go, Melania, go.