Upon hearing the commotion, the secret service run into your room just in time to see everything blow up. They look over to see you in your bed, holding onto the pin of the grenade that you threw. Without the photographer there to vouch that you were just an idiot, and not an assassin, everyone assumes that you (purposely) murdered the president. For some reason no one believes that ninjas were involved, telling you it wasn't the 1980's anymore.