I thought we were done with this #FakeMelania conspiracy theory.

But, no. After this weekend, it’s clear this crackpot intrigue may well outlast Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. In the future, after there is finally consensus on the JFK assassination, the moon landing and Sept. 11, online sleuths will still be scrutinizing footage of Melania Trump for diabolical proof of an impostor.

For the third time in 18 months, that’s what happened on the weekend.

The #FakeMelania conspiracy spread like a measles outbreak in an unvaccinated county. The grassy knoll this time was a manicured field in Alabama, where U.S. President Donald Trump and this alleged “Melania Trump” stood and gazed sombrely at 23 white crosses honouring the victims of the recent tornado.

A quick glance at the photo, which was like the Zapruder film to the #FakeMelania crowd, leaves no doubt the man on the left is Donald Trump. The synthetic hair, the equatorial girth, the grifter jowls, the vague stench of Big Macs — that’s him.

But to thousands of eyeballs, this First Lady was as phoney as that creature in the alien-autopsy video. For starters, they noted, the Real Melania is taller. The Real Melania has a different chin, nose, forehead and cheekbones.

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And come on, would the Real Melania be holding his hand?

In the past, she’s recoiled from that hand like it was a scorpion.

From cowlick discrepancies to thumb-length oddities, from the metal grommets on the blazer to the thigh gap visible in the burgundy jeggings, a shambolic chorus of #FakeMelania turned the internet into a Bermuda Triangle as common sense vanished without a trace like Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370.

Do I believe #FakeMelania? No.

But should the Real Melania believe #FakeMelania? Yes.

She should turn this conspiracy theory into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Have your say:

First of all, if anyone deserves a body double, it is Melania Trump. Actors get to use body doubles in scenes that are risqué or dangerous. Is there anything more risqué or dangerous than being married to Donald Trump?

It’s like blow-drying your hair while taking a bath.

This guy is exhausting strictly as a news fixture. Imagine living with him. Melania wakes up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and Donald is rage-tweeting on the toilet. She wants to discuss their son’s education and he’s using the nuclear football as a footrest while spitballing new nicknames for his enemies. She wants to relax with Netflix, but every screen in the White House only broadcasts Fox News and, at this point, she can’t look at Sean Hannity without a heavy dose of Gravol and vodka.

One of the reasons #FakeMelania is proving to be so intoxicating is because even non-believers pity the Real Melania.

After the Alabama photo went viral, another clip also animated conspiratorial minds this weekend. This time, “Melania Trump” was deboarding Air Force One in Florida. But to amateur investigators, she was walking too fast, waving too much and smiling too often.

The Real Melania does not move like that.

The Real Melania is not that happy.

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At the heart of #FakeMelania beats a sad truth: from Day 1, the Real Melania always seemed like she’d rather be someplace else. Inside an active volcano, in a war zone, drifting across the cosmos on the ’Oumuamua rock — anywhere else.

That’s what gives this bonkers conspiracy a whiff of plausibility.

The Real Melania never signed up for this farrago of intense scrutiny and public humiliations. The Real Melania is an immigrant who believes bullying is a scourge. Her husband is a blunderbuss of populist menace and fury who has taken a wrecking ball to civility.

To be the Real Melania is to fight off blinding shame each and every day.

So why not use a stand-in?

Remember last year when the Real Melania pulled a Chupacabra and became impossible to find for several weeks? If there had been a #FakeMelania to climb into a limo or wave from a bilateral meeting, no one would have been the wiser.

Instead, she went MIA and the speculation got nuttier with each passing day: She’s getting a divorce. She died. She moved back to Slovenia under an assumed identity. She was abducted by shape-shifters and the White House is covering up because it knows there is no way to build a wall around interdimensional gateways and besides she left a note that read, “Donald, please don’t try to find me.”

The world does not need #FakeMelania — but she does.

In fact, there should be an army of Fake Melanias: Thanksgiving Melania, Airplane Melania, State of the Union Melania. The hours and compensation would vary by assignment. The Lunch Melania conscripted into a lethally dull eat-and-work with Mitch McConnell, for example, would get double time; the Fake Melania on bedroom detail would be entitled to a fantastic sum of danger pay and, again, Gravol and vodka.

But for the Real Melania, this would be a small price to pay for liberation.

At long last, she could write herself out of The Trump Show.

By my count, they’ve been married for 14 years, 1 month and 18 days. That’s roughly 7,433,280 suffocating minutes of her wondering, “What have I done?”

If nothing else, #FakeMelania will give the Real Melania a breather.

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