Late last week, Orlando Bloom — he of the Tamagotchi at the Met Gala — was caught "canoodling" and sneakily leaving with maybe-ex Selena Gomez at a Vegas club. Yesterday, Katy Perry — Bloom's alleged monogamous paramour of the moment — responded on Twitter by calling the entire thing a "conspiracy," asking fans not to "feed the beast," and linking to an article about Bloom's charity work in the Ukraine.

Gomez responded to the controversy just as cryptically, retweeting Perry's missive with a raised-hands emoji, then adding:

Below is the extremely real timeline of the Selena Gomez-Orlando Bloom Conspiracy, as told from Orlando's perspective.

Thursday, May 5

1 p.m.: Orlando Bloom opens his eyes and checks the clock. It's 1 p.m. He's exhausted. He's spent the past day reading and rereading the piece he wrote earlier in the week for time.com, an impassioned op-ed on the importance of something in the Ukraine. Something with schools. Also, he is still hungover from visiting the Ukraine.

Orlando rolls over and sees Katy Perry, sitting in the corner of the room, staring at him. His heart stops momentarily. "I see you think just because you did stuff for poor people you can ignore me for 14 hours," roars Katy. Orlando swallows hard. "I was asleep. I wasn't ignoring —" Katy stands up and walks toward the bed. She places a large horse mask over Orlando's face and secures it with duct tape. She takes a long shower.

3 p.m.: Orlando is sitting outside his own home in a horse mask, waiting for Katy to let him back inside. He is eating Bugles via the horse mask's mouth hole. The Bugles were left here by his stalker, Jim, who gave him the idea to visit and write about Ukraine by writing "I'LL SEE YOU IN UKRAINE" in blood on his garage one morning. He makes a silent note to thank him.

His phone rings. It's a private number. He answers it. "Orlando?" Orlando nearly chokes on a Bugle, but instead coughs it back up and crumbles it into a pretty pattern on his pants. "It's Obama," says Barack Obama. "I need you. Now." "Now?" asks Orlando. "Don't ever fucking make me repeat myself again," says Obama. Orlando stands up, squishes the bag of Bugles into a ball-like shape, and swallows it. "Be right there," he says.

5 p.m.: Orlando is at the White House. He is still in a horse mask. "Let me get that for you," says Obama. He gently cuts away at the duct tape until the horse mask is hanging delicately off of the back of Orlando's neck. "Now to the important thing. I need you to help me with a conspiracy." Orlando stiffens. The horse mask falls to the floor. "You remember the last time I made you do a conspiracy with me, don't you?" asks Obama, chortling. "I made you be in all of the Lord of the Rings movies so that my wife and I could cosplay as you during our lovemaking. Thanks again. This is different, though."

Orlando picks the horse mask up off the floor and shoves it into the back of his jeans. Katy will want it back. "Orlando," continues Obama, "I need you to go to an extremely trashy Vegas club, the likes of which Nicolas Cage will one day die inside. I will arrange for Selena Gomez to be there as well. We are friends because my wife and I like to cosplay as her in Spring Breakers. We are both Selena in this cosplay. Once you're there, you need to canoodle aggressively for the cameras. Like, she needs to bury her head in your lap. Then you will leave together, but look like you're trying to look like you're not leaving together. You know? Of course you know, you’re a professional."

Orlando raises his hand. "Yes, Orlando?" says Obama. "Obama, why?" asks Orlando. Obama smiles broadly, reaches into his desk, pulls out an empty can of whipped cream, and sucks from it deeply. "I'm glad you asked. These are my last days in office, and I'm working on my legacy. One of the last items on my list is destroying Katy Perry. I don't like her confusing pseudo-feminism. But more importantly, I don't like how she divorced Russell Brand. I have always been a Brand man. His book, Revolution, advocates for a nonviolent social revolution based on principles of spirituality and the common good, according to Wikipedia. I agree. We should do that. We can't do that unless Katy Perry is made to look like a fool on tmz.com."

Orlando nods glumly, knowing he is facing certain death, either at the hand of the leader of the free world or the leader of his free will. "I understand." "Thank you for helping me with this conspiracy. For your troubles, I will someday retweet your time.com piece from my official Twitter account. Not anytime soon. But at some point," says Obama. He hands Orlando the can of whipped cream. The rest of the night is a blur.

Friday, May 6

5 p.m.: Orlando is waiting outside Light at Mandalay Bay, the trashiest Vegas club he could find. Nicolas Cage's bodyguard lives there, in eternal wait. He texts Obama the address. Obama sends back a smiling demon emoji. Orlando texts Katy Perry a screenshot of the conversation as proof that he is really doing a conspiracy with Obama and not cheating on her. Katy Perry sends him back a photo of a rotting human corpse. Seconds pass. Her next text reads, "It you." Orlando sits down outside the club and waits.

10 p.m.: Orlando has been waiting outside of the club for Selena for what feels like five hours, falling in and out of a sweaty sleep. Each time he dreams that Obama and Katy Perry are making love while cosplaying as each other. Each time he awakens with a start to find that he is aroused, but also that he has lost control of his bowels. Katy may have been right about the diapers.

Suddenly, a car pulls up. Selena steps out, wearing a silver dress and holding a dead lizard in her hand. "Katy wanted me to give this to you," she says, her voice apologetic. She drops it into his lap and walks inside. Orlando gives the lizard a small funeral — something he learned to do while accidentally stepping on dozens of lizards while filming Lord of the Rings — and follows her in.

11 p.m.: Selena and Orlando are sitting in a booth, not speaking. Selena is chomping on a pickle. Finally, she breaks the tension. "I still don't understand why I have to be doing this conspiracy," she says. "I love Obama, but like …" "I know," says Orlando. "I think it's because we both have such cherubic faces that nobody would ever suspect us of doing a conspiracy, especially one with socialist undertones." Selena nods. "Anything for America. I mean it, I love America. Should I put my head near your lap now?" Orlando sighs. Another dead lizard falls from the ceiling.

1 a.m.: The deed is done. Selena and Orlando are exhausted from hours of pretend canoodling. "Do you want to get In-N-Out?" asks Selena. "I thought you'd never ask," says Orlando. He leans down to kiss her. She pulls away, horrified. "Oh shit, sorry," stutters Orlando. "I got confused." An alligator carcass tumbles from the rafters and lands on Selena's bag.

2 a.m.: Orlando is by himself at In-N-Out. He has tried calling Katy 12 times to no avail. He has eaten 16 hamburgers, all Animal Style. Katy texts him a link, and he clicks on it. It is a Vine of Katy hurling sausages one by one off a cliff.

Obama walks into the In-N-Out burger unannounced. He is flanked by Russell Brand and a cavalcade of strippers. "Obama, Katy doesn't believe that we are doing a conspiracy," sobs Orlando. Obama rolls his eyes and leans on Russell Brand's shoulder, pretending to be very tired. They both laugh. "Ugh, fine, I'll tell her, even though it defeats the whole point of a conspiracy to tell people it's a conspiracy," says Obama. "Seriously, though, Orlando, I can't thank you enough for what you've done for this country. You are an American hero."

"I'm not American," says Orlando. Obama walks up to Orlando and gently wipes Thousand Island dressing from his cheek. "Shut the fuck up," says Obama, grinning. Michelle Obama pops out from behind the cavalcade of strippers. She is wearing a Legolas wig. The lights dim.