Please welcome
Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth
and the guest of honor, the American President,
Donald Trump.
Wow, the two royal families together at last!
We have so much in common --
inherited wealth, sexual perversion.
Let's get this out of the way --
yes, I said Meghan Markle is "nasty."
In my defense,
every time I'm about to be a guest in someone's house,
I get into a public feud with their granddaughter.
This suit is tight.
I'm gonna have to peck my way out of it like a baby chick.
Today, I am honored
to sit next to the late, great Barbara Bush.
This is just like my semester abroad,
only I haven't tried to Amanda Knox my roommate.
Happy 75th D-Day anniversary, everyone.
To celebrate, we're grabbin' our sunscreen and big umbrellas
and headin' to Omaha Beach.
Try to ignore Stephen Miller,
who will be honoring the fallen on the other side.
Ohh, I'm so fucking hot.
We won't be honoring John McCain,
who refused to fight in World War II
because of the lame excuse that he was a toddler.
Thank you to my advance team for throwing tarps
over all the gravestones with the name "John"
so I don't get grumpy and have a bad beach day.
They're gonna have to cut me out of this suit over several hours
so I don't get the bends.
I'm so jet-lagged!
I just wanna go back to the hotel and sleep!
I'll be back in time for the luau!
For the last time -- there's no luau!
Ugh! This vacation sucks!
So let's toast to our nations' eternal friendship
as we live out this scene from a 1980s R-rated comedy called --
I don't know -- Boner-In-Chief.
Uh-oh.
That drink had a bubble. Hit the deck!
-Oh. -Oh! That is so much better.
Uh-oh, here come the bends!
Aah! Klobuchar!
â™ª Three white people on a coach â™ª
â™ª It's Fox & Friends â™ª
The Midwest was starving
-before I signed legislation... -Right.
...to make chickens the size of mailboxes.
-Mm-hmm. -Yeah, right, right.
And not the blue mailboxes either...
Okay. ...the weird locked mailboxes
next to the blue ones... Sure.
...that the mailman hides his lunch
and nighttime clothes inside. Y-- Okay.
Good news -- Mr. President Trump
is about to break his record
for longest uninterrupted call-in ever!
They're installing suicide nets
outside the closed-caption office as we speak!
And it's not just the Mexicans
that are pouring over our borders...
Go off, girl! It's the Portuguese, too,
but I don't see Jim Acosta reporting on them.
Jim Acosta is an old family friend,
but now I hate his guts!
I say we drop the big one on Portugal.
What? What is he talking about?
Let's nuke Jim Acosta, too! If he's in Portugal,
we can do a two-for-one and save on shipping.
So, if you want to grow an extra arm this weekend,
head downwind from Portugal!
Does President Trump's nuclear threat
mean he has gone full-on cuckoo bananas?
A new poll shows 80% of Americans describe him
as "...unstable as a college freshman
who drags his mattress off the bed frame
and sleeps in the closet."
Here to comment is Democratic presidential candidate
Senator Elizabeth Warren.
Chuck, the President's erratic behavior
poses a threat to the entire world,
and that is not some buttoned-up senator talking --
it's laid-back, beer-swillin' Lizzy Warren.
Wow, that is warm.
Or, could this be Trump's first move
in a nine-dimensional chess game?
Absolutely not. Well, only time will tell.
No, Chuck, he's dangerous.
Only time will tell. Thank you, Senator.
Geez, everyone's calling me a whack job
just because I threatened to nuke Norway.
Portugal, sir.
We know I'm not a details guy.
Oh, no, no, no, no!
The rapture is upon us!
I can't wait to spend eternity in Heaven
sorting buttons with Karen Pence!
Relax, Rapture Randy.
I just ordered a little ballistic-missile test
to make sure the seat of Jim Acosta's pants
stays coated in pee-pee.
Whatever color pills you ate today, eat a different color,
or it's 25th Amendment time!
Is that the one where you have to say if you're a cop?
It's the one where we yank you out of office
for acting like a loony toon.
So someone grounded and rational like Mike Pence
becomes president. I understand, God.
I still have more buttons to sort on Earth.
Cheerio.
Leaders around the globe held an emergency summit
to discuss President Trump's threat to annihilate Portugal.
We've obtained audio from the closed-door meeting...
The European Union will act decisively
to neutralize this tyrant!
We take the whole "ranting mad-man" thing
pretty seriously here in Germany, you know.
Oh, come on, he misspoke!
Isn't Trump allowed one mistake?
No matter who I threaten, Dr. Ronny, I just can't win!
They've got it wrong -- I'm a very stable genius!
According to my Brain-O-Meter, class-action lawsuit pending,
your brain waves are pulsating
at 720 kilowhirls per miliyear.
And that's good, right?
Oh, off the charts, kilowhirl-wise.
I knew it! Just give me a doctor's note
saying I'm not a danger to myself or others,
or I'll do something real bad to both of us.
So why did you threaten Portugal, sir?
I was just doing some thermonuclear free association
with my Fox & Friends, and it stuck.
Now I have to do it or no one will take me seriously,
and if no one takes me seriously,
I'll have to blow up the whole world.
Sounds reasonable to me, and I live in the back of a car.
Bill Shine! Aren't you supposed to be
getting the President re-elected in perpetuity?
I took a long lunch because this is important --
when I worked at Fox News, I championed you guys.
Hell, I made you who you are. We're your Frankenstein!
Uh, Frankenstein was the scientist.
Godzilla was the monster. Shut up, Kilmeade.
Now my loyalty is to the White House,
so I need you three to stop driving the President crazy.
Oh, stop -- he's no crazier than our loyal viewers.
They adore us so much, they send 40-page love letters
written in their own fluids.
-Awww! -Awww!
Just make the show a little more gentle
until the President stops trying to kill all of us
and goes back to trying to kill some of us.
Daddy, we're here because we care deeply
about not getting irradiated.
Thanks for your concern, but I got this note from Dr. Ronny
saying my brain cholesterol is at an all-time good,
so I'm perfectly capable of running the planet.
Anyway, we asked someone who actually cares about you
to join us...
Hey, Donald! Putin?
Yeah, buddy, look,
I'm all for unprovoked military force,
but if it's on the same day you appoint a Terry Fator puppet
to the United Nations, it makes people a little jumpy.
Terry Fator's puppets are notorious instigators.
Not exactly the right temperament for the U.N.
There you go, sort of.
Bill Shine wants gentle and cerebral?
This is Fox & Friends -- not PBS.
Nobody watches us to chill out --
they watch us to hear how Ocasio-Cortez
is personally stealing land from white Africans!
There is something to be said
for the slow, methodical world-building
of a PBS costume drama.
Slow...methodical...
what the hell are you talking about, Brian?
I wrote some scripts.
Never mind. They're stupid. You don't want to see them.
Of course we don't! Fine, here they are.
I don't know about this...
Whoa, I get to wear a big, tall hat? I'm in!
Me too! Mostly because,
if I disagree with you guys, you'll ignore me anyway!
Daddy! You said you'd stop these missile tests! God!
They scare the shit
out of people who are less brave than me!
Listen, I made a promise to someone -- I forgot who --
that I'd blow up Portugal -- I'm not sure why --
and I'm not about to embarrass myself
in front of whoever for whatever reason that was.
Daddy...where's Eric? You were supposed to give him a bath!
You said to wait for you, s-so I did.
His nuts are so small and wrinkly, Dad!
They'll never be normal nuts again!
Relax -- Anyone could have forgotten
their screaming adult son in the bath.
Daddy...what if it had been someone you care about?
Someone...like me?
Oh, my God. My children. My one good children.
Please, Daddy, let us help you make your brain good again.
For the country,
so it'll trust you enough to steal all its money.
And for Eric, whose nuts art in Heaven.
Let's do it. Not just for Eric's nuts,
but the whole country's nuts.
-Cool! -Yay!
Come back if you need c-cold, dirty water!
Kids, we all know that the best way to prove
someone is competent, sane, and trustworthy is...
Prime-time televised game show!
Exactly! In one week's time,
I'm gonna show the country, live, on network TV,
that my brain is more functional than Ronald Reagan's
the day he left office.
I'm thinking my doctor who lives in a car
tests me in front of a billion Americans, and we call it --
Big Brain Showdown!
With a special performance by Jamiroquai.
Love it. At the end,
Dr. Ronny will smash my brain with a sledgehammer
and, if it puffs back up with a big boing sound,
everyone will know I'm fine.
I'll check to make sure Jamiroquai isn't touring.
Ivanka, I really hope he's not touring.
Three white people in a house...
It's Friendship Manor.
Lady Ainsleyhardt, have you readied the dining room
for this evening's repaste? R-Re-past?
Yes, I have left ample space
between the Duke of Winshire and the Marquess of Aberdingle.
And have you considered my proposal of marriage?
It would secure Friendship Manor for generations to come.
I have, Lord Doocifus.
It's just that my heart belongs to another...
This is extremely my shit.
We need to make sure you actually win
Big Brain Showdown,
so let's exercise that noggin with a brain teaser.
After my divorce, I found solace
in the ancient practice of mindfulness.
Okay, a murderer is condemned to death --
Biased judge, activist court,
appeal it till it gets to Kavanaugh's desk.
-Solved it. -Daddy! Hold on! I wasn't done!
Now just close your eyes and let your thoughts drift away.
Whooooosh.
Whoo--
Oh, shit! I swallowed a bug!
Now a bug's gonna grow in my stomach.
Get it out before it goes through puberty!
As punishment, the murderer has to enter one of three rooms --
one with assassins, one that's on fire,
and one with lions who haven't eaten in years.
Wait, are the lions tigers?
Of course! Actually, wait. Are they?
Sir, the United Nations Security Council
has been on hold for three days.
What should I tell them?
We're doing something!
So I just pull on that thing in the back of your throat
until you barf the bug? Uh-huh.
Back at Wharton, my buddy Brench taught me
that's the "vom-cord."
Hello, zoo? Are lions tigers?
Ask him if lions are tigers. I am. Shut up!
Uh-huh...
Oh...
But how do you know?
They don't know. I knew it!
Ask them if donkeys are horses.
Shut up, Pompeo!
Actually, that's a good question.
Do you feel anything? Almost!
All right, I'm gonna....
I'm grab-- I got something. Hold it.
Everything okay over there?
Yeah, just doing some mediation.
I love you too, Kilmington.
Even if you are a penniless footman with rotten teeth.
Then there is something I must show you...
The will of my uncle, Count Friendship!
Wasn't that destroyed in the orphanage fire?
Shh!
But that was destroyed in the orphanage fire!
What'd I say? Knew it. Shut the fuck up!
I found it in Doocifus' chambers, and there's more --
Doocifus is not your cousin.
He is...
Mister Doonces of 49 Poorman's Lane, Coventry.
So you've found me out, have you?
But if he's not really my cousin, then...
Then you, Lady Ainsleyhardt,
are the true heir to Friendship Manor...
-Whoooooaaaa. -Whoooooaaaa.
I think Dad's swamp brain might be cured.
He helped me barf up a bug.
And he helped me get that dumb zoo guy fired.
He's gonna be so psyched that he didn't have to visit
an actual mental-health professional.
Now answer me this --
what has Europe ever done for us?!
Drag them, Hannity!
As far as I'm concerned, Christopher Columbus
wasn't even born till he got to America!
Tell Spain to lean the other way
because it's Portugal nuke time, baby!
This is the problem, Dad. TV makes you nuttier
than the 23-year-old high-school kid in my two-man fight club.
Sorry, Daddy, but the TVs
are going straight into "insinkerator."
Fine, take it.
Whatever Fox & Friends is doing these days
is extremely not my shit. Get some rest.
Tomorrow, you have to prove to the American people
that you're as with it as a 72-year-old speed-freak can be.
Hello?
I think I'm clean now!
"I love Lady Ainsleyhardt's indomibibble spirit."
It's just nice getting fan mail that doesn't refer to my womb
as an essential weapon in the race war.
"Doocifus is bae"? I don't know what that means,
but it ends in "e," so it's okay by me.
Brian, how do you write these genius scripts?
I installed some beams in my house
and got the feet and inches mixed up,
so every night I run full steam
into a piece of gorgeous, varnished cherry-wood.
And when I come to, there's a "scrimpt."
Wow, this one's signed "Barack and Michelle."
And this one is from the Peabody Foundation!
Guys, you got to feel how thick this paper is.
Ooh!
I think it might be five slices stuck together.
Ohh, it's not!
Daddy, it's almost time for your Big Brain Showdown.
Remember -- it's called underwear
because you "wear" it when you're "under" the sky!
Let's go show this country how coherent I can be
for a short amount of time on television.
Welcome to The Big Brain Showdown.
The only show where we test how healthy, buff,
and whisper-quiet the President's brain is.
I'm your host, Dr. Ronny.
Let's meet our contestant.
Born in Queens,
Donald John Trump's colon has the same microbial biodiversity
as an escalator handrail.
Tonight, he's playing for the trust of the American people
and his favorite charity,
Eric's Home for Hypothermic Men.
The showdown consists of 25 questions
that test the memory, logic, and reasoning skills
of the President.
Seven or more correct answers will be considered an A++.
Let's begin.
Marcus Aurelius once said,
"The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts."
Name a color.
Strawberry.
Correct.
What song is this?
"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way."
Jingy Bells.
Judges.
We'll accept Jingy Bells.
John Elway. Correct.
Blair, Jo, Natalie, Tootie, and Mrs. Garrett.
Correct.
And Godzilla was the monster.
Correct. He was brought back to life
when Trinity confessed her love. Correct.
Nine. Correct.
No, wait. 42,000. Correct.
They were being held in the basement of Comet Ping Pong!
Correct.
Marry Kissinger, Fuck McNamara, Kill Nixon.
Judges?
Correct.
And now your final question...
Who's a big, loud boy with a big, healthy brain?
Uh...me?
Well, let's just say...
...we will reveal the results after this break.
They always do this.
Hi, I'm Mike Lindell, CEO of My Pillow,
the most comfortable pillow you'll ever own.
Have you ever thought that
something that was perfectly fine
should be different somehow?
Then buy my pillow.
I could never get a restful sleep because of my pillow,
so one night,
I chucked a brick through a high-school home-ec window,
ripped the sewing machine off the bolts,
and stitched together the American dream.
Call now, or maybe I'll call you!
Welcome back.
I know a lot of hypothermic men
who will be very happy tonight.
Mr. President, you are mentally competent.
-Yay, Daddy! -Yay! Ugh!
I swallowed some confetti.
Ivanka! Pull my vom-cord!
Was last night's Big Brain Showdown a success?
The EU released a statement saying, quote,
"We take comfort that his family is occupying him
with a make-believe game show."
And now, accepting the Peabody Award
for excellence in entertainment,
is the cast of my favorite show, Friendship Manor.
Whoa! Happy days!
Lord Doocifus himself. This is so cool.
To anyone who ever heard the words "you can't,"
"no one wants that,"
or "don't eat that -- they made it in props,"
I am living proof that you can do it all.
Okay, I'll go.
Keep dreaming! Keep friendshipping! Keep mattering!
Kaitlyn, Kirstyn, and Bryan Jr., go to bed!
Daddy won a Peabody!
Nice job tonight, Dad. You beat the shit out of your brain!
That one question about whether cars go zoom
was pretty tough. Well, see you later, Daddy.
You know we all have, like, five kids?
And they call me Mom.
I don't have time to get into it, but it's insane.
Okay, bye!
Ahh, got the night all to myself.
Now, where did I put my mind-enhancing puzzles?
I've looked everywhere. Hm.
Well, it would be fun to treat myself to a little TV.
Oh, yeah. TV gone, too.
Can we swing by Men's Warehouse so I can return this suit?
Hey, hey! Fellas!
Did you also get turned away from the Peabody afterparty
because you forgot how to spell your name?
Shut up! Brian, Brian, Brian...
Okay, while you were at these, uh, Golden Snowflake Awards,
we were in the studio,
ensuring the First Amendment rights of white people
to sing the N-word at karaoke, and you weren't there.
But Bill Shine told me to stop driving the President insane,
so I just thought I -- Oh, oh, oh.
That's what you think, Brian? You thought wrong.
Your allegiance is to Fox News -- got it?
We all took the same vows
in Roger Ailes' amphibious sex plane.
But Friendship Manor is life-affirming TV.
Fox News doesn't affirm life -- it de-firms life,
and scares men into thinking their sperm count will drop
if they let their wives drive.
Don't forget that, Kilmeade.
Hey, can we stop at Men's Warehouse?
I want to dig through the discount suit bin.
Huh. No TV in here either...
I'll just sit here alone with my thoughts.
Oh, hi. Good to see you.
I'm gonna need the nuclear football
and an upside-down umbrella full of Diet Coke.
Thanks so much. Appreciate it. Love the tie.
Brian, I had a question
about the Baronet's harpsichord teacher.
It's over, guys. Friendship Manor is done.
But Doocifus still has his maidenhead!
Tucker and Sean were right. We should be out there
scaring old ladies into buying barbed-wire doormats --
not acting out fiction.
But we've got so many stories left to tell!
What about their stories, Ainsley?
But Ainsleyhardt
is a three-dimension female character!
And who's gonna tell my big, tall hat?
We now present a very special
Brian Kilmeade Presents: Friendship Manor.
Hello, viewers. It's me, Brian Kilmeade.
I mean Kilmington,
or, as you would have learned in the next episode,
Kilmington's brother, who was feared lost at sea.
-Are you kidding me?! -Don't spoil it!
Friendship Manor is going on permanent hiatus
because I don't know how to stand up for myself.
Fare-thee-well.
I'm lost. Did we miss an episode?
I bet it all pays off. Just keep watching.
Dad! Dad! Dad! Daddy! Daddy! Open up!
What's he doing in there? We took away his TV and phone.
Hey, what's that thing that Dad says every day at breakfast
about leaving him alone with his thoughts?
Oh, uh, don't ever leave me alone with my thoughts,
or I'll blow up the entire world.
-Yeah. -Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, yeah.
Hey! Hey! Do not leave me alone with my thoughts!
I will kill everything forever!
You know what this means?
He's having breakfast without us.
Daddy, no!
We're hungry, too!
So I walk into the 21 Club,
and I see Andre Agassi, and he has his back to me.
And he knew I was gonna walk in. He knew it.
So he'll be dead, too.
I'm Wolf Blitzer and you're watching me realize
I left my lunch in my car.
It's shrimp salad -- it'll keep.
With the President isolated
and in possession of the nuclear football,
European leaders are considering
a preemptive strike on the U.S.
Uh-oh, that's where the shrimp salad is.
Meanwhile, Vice President Pence and the cabinet are deciding
whether or not to remove Trump from office.
Breakups are tough.
Launch codes are around here somewhere.
Ugh, why's everything so hard to find?
Yikes, that guy looks like crap.
No, you look like crap.
You can't talk to me like that!
But I'm part of you, idiot. I'm your subconscious.
Subconscious...
Is that the room where rodeo clowns hang out
before it's time to go in?
God, you're dumb.
It's the place deep inside your head
where all your emotions live.
And it is rough down here.
Oh, no! I'm crazy, aren't I?
Is that why I'm such a math genius?
You're more of a run-of-the-mill sociopathic narcissist,
who, through a weird twist of fate, can destroy the world.
Okay. What's the bad news?
You'll destroy us with it, you dumb piece of shit.
There's always a catch.
Hey, it's Doocifus and Ainsleyhardt!
We don't do that show anymore!
No selfies!
There they are! The people we've been looking for.
So, like, how are you guys?
Dad is about to blow up the free world,
but, seriously, how are you guys?
Here's some coins, kids. Go play Buck Hunter or something.
He gave them to me. That means I'm in charge.
I'm gonna be good!
The President needs the old Fox & Friends show
to get the steam out of his ears so it doesn't cook his brain.
The old show? But I can't even remember
why wealthy old white men are underprivileged anymore.
Maybe this will jog your memory. "Dear Fox & Friends.
If I didn't have you to talk to,
I would probably kill everybody.
I love you so much.
Yours, the President of the United States."
I was packing up Kilmington's cummerbund when I found this.
And there are 30 more, just like it, all from the President.
He needs us, damn it.
What do you say, Fox & Friends star Ainsley Earhardt?
I actually prefer Friendship Manor.
She's in -- let's go!
All those in favor of removing the President from office
and installing me instead?
Wait! I'm not crazy!
The mirror-me said so!
Yikes.
You guys believe me, right?
Wow, nobody's on my side.
And after all the stuff I've done
for your investment portfolios.
Fine, say goodbye to Earth!
â™ª It's Fox & Friends â™ª
Whoa! It's TV!
Fox & Friends -- activate!
God, I hate that nuclear football,
don't you, Brian?
It makes me sick, yee-uck!
Get rid of it!
Yeah...yeah... I hate it, too.
You know what else makes me sick?
What, Mr. President?
Integration. The trickle-down part of economics.
Swiss Family Robinson.
So, we're just gonna pretend this is fine?
Consider the alternative.
God, guide my hand as I use this device
to wipe the cast of The L Word from Earth.
Trump's cabinet has voted to reinstall the President.
Meanwhile, psychologists unanimously agree
that Trump is a ticking time bomb of unchecked emotion.
But is he?
Or did his bishop just checkmate the media's queen?
I'm Chuck Todd, I pretend to enjoy football
because I'm scared of my dad, and this is Meet the Press.
The Arctic shelf is such a drama queen.
I mean, if you're gonna melt, just melt already.
I know that's right.
That's my president.
Shelf bad.
I say we torch the whole thing.
Mr. President, can we take five?
I wouldn't mind popping into the bathroom real quick.
Sure. In the meantime, maybe I'll turn off
all the power grids and see which city screams the loudest.
On second thought, we can hold it.
Luckily for me, I can use my big hat as a toilet!
Why are we still watching this?
Uh, Michelle, I told you, it's going to pay off.
â™ª Donald Trump is the president â™ª
â™ª Is Donald Trump the president? â™ª
â™ª Yes, he is â™ª
â™ª Yes, he is, we elected him president â™ª
â™ª Is Donald Trump the president? â™ª
â™ª Yes, he is â™ª
â™ª We had a vote and elected him president â™ª
â™ª Donald Trump is the president â™ª
â™ª Donald Trump â™ª
â™ª He is our president â™ª
â™ª We made him president â™ª
â™ª We did it â™ª
â™ª Donald Trump is the president â™ª
â™ª We elected Donald Trump â™ª
â™ª Donald Trump is the president â™ª
â™ª Yeah â™ª
Trump!