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This city has never had a party gal like Marlene Cooke, aka Marlene Ramallo Chalmers Cooke Something Something etc.

In the fall of 1993, the former First Lady of Football was the talk of the town, even moreso than her sugar-daddy husband’s Washington Redskins.

After a night of wine drinking at Cafe Milano, while 80-something hubby Jack Kent Cooke was home alone, the oft-married Marlene got in a very public squabble with a boytoy. The streetfight ended when she jumped in the Jaguar paid for by burgundy and gold dollars and tried to drive away.

The Bolivian cougar’s boytoy, later identified as 26-year-old Patrick Werner, was heard yelling that the pricey auto was his as he jumped on the Jag and spread himself wide on its hood. Marlene didn’t take her pedal off the metal, but only made it a few blocks before being stopped by the cops on M Street.

As we want our divas to, Marlene went apeshit at the police for having the nerve to pull her over just because a man was sprawled on her car. MPD arrested them both. The Washington Post reported that she threw her “gold pumps” at an officer’s head when he tried to put her through sobriety tests.

At trial for DUI, testimony showed that cops were so pissed at Marlene, who was a convicted cocaine importer before she’d married Cooke, that they wouldn’t even let her take a sobriety test. So a judge ruled there wasn’t enough evidence to convict her.

We all soon learned that this Marlene, unlike Dietrich, never wanted to be alone. Reports soon surfaced that she’d been housing Werner in an Alexandria lovenest for months before the Cafe Milano blowup. When Jack Kent Cooke died in 1997, his lawyers tried using her fidelity-free lifestyle as a way to get the wayward fourth wife cut out of his estate.

Like hell that was going to happen: Marlene ended up with at least $20 million, or more than John Kent Cooke, the surviving son.