As Delaware braces for a legal spectacle that could rival any prime-time TV drama, Hunter Biden's federal gun crime trial officially kicks off with jury selection on June 3, 2024 (source). The case, already a politically charged lightning rod, promises to scrutinize the President's son over three grim-sounding counts: making a false statement during the purchase of a firearm, making a false statement related to information required to be kept by a licensed firearm dealer, and possession of a firearm by a person who is an unlawful user of or addicted to a controlled substance (source).

In a bid for impartiality, jurors have vowed to avoid all commentary from Fox News and MSNBC—a difficult task akin to abstaining from checking Instagram during an influencer's apology video.

Hunter Biden, elder son of President Joe Biden, faces a maximum prison sentence of 25 years if convicted on all counts. Each count carries the additional entertainment value of a $250,000 fine and three years of supervised release (source). His attorney insists he is innocent and, in a dramatic courtroom moment bound to be reenacted in some future true-crime documentary, Hunter pleaded not guilty to all charges.

Meanwhile, President Biden has indicated that if his son is convicted, a pardon is off the table. A great way to say, "You're on your own, kid" (source).

The charges stem from an incident in October 2018, when Hunter purchased a Colt Cobra revolver while allegedly addicted to drugs (source). His predicament grew more complex after a plea deal with federal investigators collapsed last year.

Special Counsel David Weiss—appointed by former President Trump and later promoted to special counsel by Attorney General Merrick Garland—brought the charges against him (source). It's a seriously star-studded cast of characters in this judiciary drama.

Judge Maryellen Noreika, who appears to have read the script for this trial's potential plot twists, has already denied multiple motions to dismiss the charges by Hunter’s attorneys (source). Meanwhile, Hunter’s defense seems poised to hinge on the argument that he was too strung-out to have intended wrongdoing—a defense that might sound more compelling delivered by Jeff Bridges in a courtroom drama, rather than in real life (source).

Hunter's family has shown their support, with First Lady Jill Biden and his sister Ashley Biden attending the first day of the trial (source). The family is likely hoping that their presence adds a touch of wholesome American unity to the proceedings—something more in line with a family-friendly Netflix series than a gritty courtroom showdown.

In a move that could disappoint lovers of salacious detail, Judge Noreika has barred the prosecution from using some potentially spicy evidence, including references to Hunter Biden's Navy discharge and his child support case (source). It's like a reality show with all the best scenes cut out.

But wait, there’s more. Hallie Biden, Hunter’s former sister-in-law turned love interest, apparently discarded his gun in a trash can near a school, which promptly attracted police attention in October 2018 (source). It's a case that seemingly has everything—a lovelorn gun-toting subplot to rival Nicholas Sparks' most imaginative fictions.

Adding more layers to this intricate narrative, the prosecution plans to introduce evidence from Hunter’s memoir, ‘Beautiful Things’, alongside photographs and videos from his infamous laptop (source). That's like a prosecutor reading a celebrity’s autobiography aloud and hoping the jury gasps at all the right moments.

If the drama isn't thick enough, Hunter Biden also faces separate federal tax charges in California, with that trial scheduled to start in September (source). Fortunately for him, Hunter has reportedly been sober since 2019, a point he underscored in his book and reiterated during a court hearing (source).

As the trial unfolds, the nation watches closely, eagerly awaiting the next plot twist. In the meantime, jurors, likely converging in secret with their coffee and bagels, promise to steer clear of the kind of searing hot takes provided by cable news—proving that sometimes, even in America’s most enthralling legal dramas, neutrality really is the best policy.