- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -
- Mr. President, sir! - Mr. President! Mr. President!
- Mr. President! - Over here, Mr. President!
Wow, is this coronavirus great or what?
You get to work from home in your pajamas, watching TV,
sweating down to your couch springs,
coughing like you got three tennis balls in your lungs.
What an exciting time to be barely alive.
Okay, Pence, you're up.
In troubling times, I find comfort in the Good Book.
Bored. Okay.
I assume there aren't any questions.
What can the American people do to stay safe?
First, stop voting for Joe Biden in the primaries.
Those ballots are Petri dishes.
And second, wash your hands thoroughly like I do,
by scrubbing them in freezing-cold water
long enough to recite your screaming match
with Tony Little at the Palm in '92.
Have you been tested for the virus?
No need. Sure, I've shaken hands
with several dozen people who are now quarantined,
but the surgeon general gave me a pregnancy test
and said I'm in the clear.
Side note... Until the threat has passed,
the CDC is advising people to avoid shaking hands
or checking their 401s.
Are you at all worried that the outbreak
will further destabilize the markets?
Hello, the markets are supposed to jump up and down.
That just means they're excited!
And now my treasury secretary will put your mind at ease.
Don't worry. We're doing a tax cut
to help all the average Americans out there,
from the guy who operates my private elevator
to the gal who pumps pig fat into my wife's forehead.
Whoo! Now we're having fun!
Oh, by the way, I know a lot of festivals are shutting down,
so I'm proud to announce that I'll be hosting
my own Coachella on the South Lawn!
Mark McGrath is a hard maybe.
When can we expect a vaccine?
As soon as we figure out a way to funnel all the money
we funneled out of the CDC back into it.
Alright, I think we're good here.
Ted Cronaviruz!
A sewage pipe burst at my place, so I'm quarantining here!
Hey, look! Coronavirus gets you so sweaty,
you can shake yourself dry like a big, fluffy dog!
Okay, apocalypse time.
Every man for himself.
Oh, thanks for nothing, assholes!
Beautiful Camp David, USA.
Tons of amenities... a world-class golf course,
two pools clogged with my body hair,
and a trampoline with a big hole ripped through it
that was like that when I got here.
Perfect place for a G-7 summit.
Pompeo here will fetch you anything you need.
I am thrilled to be a part of this historic,
fun-tastic weekend in the great outdoors.
I'd say the only thing that could make this
even more historic is if we let...
- No. - Let me finish.
- If we let Russia... - No.
Let me finish, damn it.
If we let Russia re-join the G-7!
- No. - No.
We voted Russia out of the summit
back in 2014 with the support of Barack Obama.
But nothing Obama did really counts,
except for when he wrecked the economy
and mugged that lady in Central Park.
Ugh. I'm so bored, I'd rather wait in the car
while Melania gives birth again.
They'll never understand guys like us...
cool, buff, mercilessly powerful underdog outcasts.
Come hang here! It's me, Assad,
Bolsonaro, MBS, and Erdogan.
We're gonna carve up a globe like a watermelon.
I can't. These G-7 squares will yell at me.
Alright, suit yourself.
Hey, use the bathroom upstairs. The one down here is tricky.
Putin?
Okay, gotta go.
You're right. I would beat Dog the Bounty Hunter
in a bare-knuckle boxing match. Bye.
While Trump is off stickin' it
to those pro-world-peace globalists,
I'm planning the Republican National Convention.
All we need is a kickass speech
introducing the President courtesy of...
Thank you, but I really speak for women everywhere...
- Don Jr. - Haha.
Got your ass, Ivanka.
You sure did, champ.
What? He's not the champ.
- I'm the champ. - Not according to the polls.
Whoa, a iPad.
When we asked Republicans who they'd most likely support
in a future presidential run,
the overwhelming answer was Don Jr.
Him? But I'm America's unimaginably wealthy sweetheart.
Blue-collar voters just don't trust
someone who has never drunk-driven a riding mower to work.
I should've known this G-7 would be a bunch of cliquey leaders
gossiping about the economic fate of the world.
A destabilizing pandemic like coronavirus
makes the world more vulnerable to authoritarianism.
Hello? I'm right here.
It's no Eton Dining Castle for Hungry Little Rich Boys,
but I quite like it here.
Back in London, everyone always complains
my ideas are a stepping stone to ethnic cleansing.
That never happens to me where I'm from.
I wanna go home.
Why don't you go back to Washington, then?
Everyone will think I'm a big baby, and I'm not.
I'm not a baby, Boris.
Cheer up, you git. Aren't you excited
for the big rip-roarin' G-7 luncheon tomorrow?
Well, I like lunch, but luncheon?
I don't know, sounds kinda Jewish.
My father, and our next president,
Donald J. Trump.
Ivanka, I hate seeing you like this.
You look like you just overheard one of the kids
calling the nanny "Mom" again.
I just can't believe that poll.
I was destined to make history
as America's first classically hot president.
If you really want to compete with Don Jr.,
you'll need to do some research.
- I found it wedged into the crawlspace - _
in one of my rental properties.
We get a lot of destitute perverts
living in the walls of those things.
Ew, Jared. No way am I taking advice
from a book without a picture of me on the cover.
To compete with Don Jr.,
you need to start plotting your next move now.
First the RNC, then the Presidency,
and then I'll be the one
giving the Saudis permission to use the bone saw.
I'm not going to stoop to his level, Jared.
Besides, half of Don Jr.'s fans will probably be dead
from ATV jousting by 2020 anyway.
What the hell is this?
I've barfed up more appetizing meals
onto my plastic dinner-poncho.
Settle down, Mr. Trump.
This is the German asparagus delicacy "spargel".
Ugh! It reeks, and not in a good KFC-on-an-airplane way.
Please, Mr. Trump.
Such blatant cultural insensitivity has no place
anywhere except a Halloween party.
Get off my back, Trudeau.
Boys, behave yourselves.
Why are you yelling at me?
I didn't even do anything, Mom.
- I mean... - Oh, my God. Did you just call her Mom?
Baby wants his mom.
That's way worse than blackface.
We want Trump! We want Trump!
Arrrr, hmm.
Cowl neck cashmere cardigan
consumed by fiery factory fire.
Those dusty farmhands are going to lap up my soliloquy
like whatever flavor San Pellegrino
sells best at the local honky-tonk.
We want Trump!
Hello, fellow warrior queens!
Joe Biden is a big, fat chode.
He should legally have to change his name to "Chode Biden".
But you know what I'm sick and tired of?
Joe Biden always trying to change his name
to "Chode Biden" on the taxpayer dime.
Joe Biden will never understand the struggle of working moms...
Let the boy one talk!
Check out "Triggered".
For sale wherever the truth is sold.
And how about my GF Kimberly,
the most hottest woman onstage right now?
These high heels are made from non-recyclable plastic.
Hahaha! Oh, sweet! Head shot!
Look alive, Jared. We have work to do.
And so, the malnourished children of Burkina Faso...
Hey, Putin, I'm not making friends at the G-7
like you said I would.
No one liked my Shinzo Abe impression.
Be a brave little puppet and...
Haha, guys, cut it out.
Gaddafi gave me that sword.
Sorry. The guys are letting loose after a long week
of having their will enforced at gunpoint.
Wish you could join, but y'know, don't want
Justin Trudeau to be disappointed in you.
Alright, bye...
Wait, what if you guys come party here?
I'll even let you borrow my military.
You can invade Spain for all I care.
Hmm. Let me ask the guys.
Hey, Trump wants us to come over to Camp David.
Ah, what's the harm?
My girlfriend Lindsay Lohan says he's pretty funny on Twitter.
Okay, Donald, fill up a tub. We're in.
Yes. Try to get here by eight.
- That's when Tucker's on. - Who gives a...
My real friends are on their way,
and I'm taking your precious German sparkles with me.
B-b-b-b-b-bad.
Ah, shit, I dropped the sparkles.
Because the G-7 leaders refuse to work toward
our shared goal of doing what I want,
I am withdrawing the United States from the G-7
and founding a new summit
only for leaders who are tough, cool,
and don't yell at me, Bolsonaro, Bin Salman,
Assad, Erdogan, and Vladimir Putin of Russia,
and I guess, pretty soon, Spain.
Our new summit is one billion times better than the G-7,
so we're calling it...
the G-A Million!
No questions? Great.
Last one to the clubhouse is a rotten immigrant.
- Not it! Not it! - No cheating!
Also, Angela Merkel accidentally called me "mom"
in a meeting yesterday, and it was hilarious.
Okay, so we missed Tucker by eight hours,
but luckily Bill Hemmer's anchoring daytime today...
Yeah, yeah. Yo, Vlad, we missed you at Mugabe's funeral.
I sent a card. I just felt weird, y'know...
Robert and I kind of drifted apart toward the end.
That's how it was with me and Saddam.
One day, he's your hero, the next,
you're skipping his funeral to assassinate a critic.
I'm usually not invited to other people's funerals.
Donald, maybe tell us all about the military coup
- that brought you to power? - I've gotten like really close
but I've never done war, unless you count
getting your tie stuck in a soft serve machine,
which, yeah, doesn't count, I guess.
Ivanka? The kids keep asking for Mommy,
and Consuela's not picking up her phone...
Shh. I'm studying.
Barack Obama said there's no magic wand
to raising the GDP.
Well, guess what? Abracadabra, baby.
Well, guess what? Abracadabra, beeyotch.
Beeyotch! Beeyotch! Beeyotch!
Beeyotch! Beeyotch! Well, guess what?
The GDP make me horny, baby. Yeah.
You were right all along, Jared.
If I want to defeat Don Jr., I must become him.
Give me the book.
♪ Slick your hair back, go on Hannity ♪
♪ Give a retweet ♪
♪ To an anti-Semitic conspiracy theory ♪
- ♪ Becoming Don Jr. ♪ - ♪ I'm becoming Don Jr.! ♪
- ♪ Becoming Don Jr.! ♪ - ♪ I'm becoming Don Jr.! ♪
- ♪ Becoming Don Jr.! ♪ - ♪ Whoa ♪
♪ Becoming Don Jr.! ♪
♪ I'm becoming Don Jr., yeah! ♪
Abracadabra, baby.
I once sat on that log with Dan Bongino
and gabbed until sunrise.
Where do you all gab with Bongino?
Mr. President, sir. Any comment
on claims from Senate Democrats that your G-7 withdrawal
is a, "Touring cast of Hamilton-level disappointment"?
How 'bout this for a comment...
I'm hereby revoking your press pass.
Now am-scray.
Today is turning out to be a doozy.
So was he a close friend of yours?
That was quite a love-fest.
What are you talking about? I ruined his whole afternoon.
Guys, I'm sure Donald will melt that journalist's bones into goo
when he least expects it... right, Donald?
Yeah, yeah. I'm one of you.
Hey, did you see the latest issue of "Dictator Digest"?
What the fuck is he talking about?
It went out of print four years ago.
- Hannity! - I'm Sean Hannity, and I don't
like the look your Puerto Rican nurse just gave you, either.
Let's bring in our special guest.
- Oh! Ivanka! I like the new look. - _
It's like you and your brother finally had sex.
Thanks, Sean. The way working moms
are treated in this country makes,
uh, does not make me horny, baby?
Sweet Irish Jesus, saying "working moms"
on my show is ratings poison.
Get Stephen Miller on, stat.
I'm here, I'm here.
Loading undocumented immigrants onto trains out of town
will be a boon to white Americans and Amtrak conductors!
You're speakin' my language Stephen Miller, English!
And that's how you tell apart Fox News's Bill Hemmer
from Fox News's Pete Hegseth. It's all in the eyes.
So you guys wanna watch them, or what?
Not after you just spent the past four hours describing them.
'Scuse me! I'm back at Camp David
to demand that the President reinstate my press pass at once.
Please, Mr. President,
that and a back support belt is all I have.
Why are his bones not goo?
Oh, uh, hey, let's have a contest
to see who can say the meanest thing about Rosie O'Donnell.
I'll start... What a loser.
Maybe we should head back to Moscow.
- Yeah. - Let's go.
No, no, you... you can't leave.
- Ugh. - Hey, let us by,
Mr. Chunky Stuff.
Great work today, G-7.
I can't wait to share my new Greek austerity plan.
- Slay, kween. - Sounds nice.
You know what's even better than a real war?
A prank war.
B-b-b-b-b-bad.
Last night, while you were asleep
and I was alone in our large, dark kitchen
trying to feel anything at all,
I read Don Jr.'s book, and it was so engaging.
If you start complimenting my brother,
I'll start planning a wedding to Tom Brady in my head.
Like Trump supporters, Don Jr. is incredibly angry,
so when it comes spewing out, they connect with him.
The bridesmaids will wear violet.
If only you had some old wound to call upon to make you angry,
but, alas, you're just the perfect woman...
The ski trip.
I didn't charge a ski trip
to our bullshit children's charity
for you two to not compete.
Last one down the hill has to be a father figure to Eric.
Ivanka wins.
Yay! I won!
Bad news, Junior... your punishment
is it'll be your fault when I cheat on your mom... Junior?
Haha! Get it?!
- I've given him a penis! - Awesome!
Nice work, champ.
But I won! Daddy!
He's. Not. The. Champ.
I'm. The. Champ!
And the libtards in the mainstream media
refuse to talk about it!
Yes! Now let's get you
somewhere a corn dog counts as a serving of vegetables.
"Chancellor Merkel spent taxpayer dollars
on high-end, designer muted flats"?
"Anonymous source reveals
French President's urine-guzzling fetish"?
"Dozens of new Trudeau
blackface photos uncovered"?
There should be only one dozen.
Who would spread such rumors?
"Guzzling" is a funny word.
We've been pranked by the G-A Million.
There's no better feeling
than exerting force over people you barely know,
when they least expect it, for no reason at all.
Donald, you're one of us now. I had this made
from part of a melted-down Armenian Genocide memorial.
Now we'll be bonded forever. You go first.
Okay, just do it on the part of my ass
that's already callused from misuse.
My ass fat smells so good!
Hello, Arizona.
I'm Ivanka Trump.
Uh, okay.
And you can pry my liberty out of my cold dead hands.
Oh, and there's only one gender... men...
and only one holiday... Jesus Christ-mas.
Whoa, she's really speaking truth to power.
But she's stealing my whole vibe.
But she's doing a killer job at it.
But it's at my expense.
Gah, I hate this and I love this.
The doctor says I'll never sit again,
but you can't put a price on camaraderie.
President Trump, it's Chuck Todd.
You better reinstate my press pass,
or else you're bus... you're brust... busted.
Donald, what do we do with journalists?
Excuse me, gentlemen,
I can't report the news from in here!
What are you going to do with his limbs?
Wait, don't tell me... I want it to be a surprise.
I'll probably just keep him in the shed.
Ahhh, and set fire to it.
And when the firemen show up, their hoses shoot more fire!
- You're twisted, man. - Nah.
See, if I do that, people will start yelling at me,
then I won't be able to hear the TV,
then I'll turn up the TV, and then they'll just yell louder.
Next thing I know, I've missed Tucker and Hemmer.
Right, guys?
Bill Hemmer's a real class act.
It's "The View" with a fifth cast member
that, by the time you finish saying "Who the F is that?"
she's gone.
Let's jump back in with Ivanka Trump!
And then I realized, it's not my problem
if my patriotism triggers snowflakes.
Excuse me, I'm talking.
As a fellow strong, independent daddy's girlboss,
I must say something about this "new Ivanka".
Ooooooh!
What you say at those rallies is completely true...
but I would never say so out loud.
Republicans aren't a party of insults and cursing...
Okay, wow, I'm talking!... We're a party of politeness
and legal discrimination... I said I'm talking!
I'm disappointed in you,
and I know this is going to sting,
but I think my father would be disappointed in you, too.
Ooooooh!
Now that Chuck Todd is locked in a shed...
the worst thing that can happen to someone...
how 'bout we celebrate with the toughest
tough guy activity there is... golf.
How can you think about golf
when there's so much work to be done?
Now that you've locked up a journalist,
you have to shut down the free press.
Bribe the courts into changing the constitution,
then prepare to quash the inevitable uprising.
Then fix the election, quash the uprising,
fix the election, quash the... You get it.
How do you still have time to watch "Fox and Friends"?
Oh, Trumpy. As far as free time,
every morning, I ride my horse at a full sprint
for however long it takes to snap a leg
and that's pretty much it.
- I haven't watched TV in years. - What?!
- Ivanka! Ivanka! Ivanka! - Don't let them define you.
You can be a flag-humping racist
and a working mom,
a disgrace to the Republican party
and a selectively liberal socialite.
Hello, Carson City.
My name is Ivanka Trump, and all I have to say is...
Disappointed...
My father... father... father...
As a working mom...
Whoa, what the F is this?
Sometimes, it feels like I've been shadow banned
by the lack of paid maternity leave.
No! Wait! Please, let me explain!
This whole stupid act was your idea.
All I ever wanted was for you to manipulate the public
for the sake of my political career.
You know, I hate to say it,
but John McCain actually would be disappointed in you.
You can save money on bullets
if you arm the death squad with machetes.
Sure, sure, but then you have to factor in the physical strain
and carpal tunnel is not a joke.
Now can we watch TV, please?
I wish you were this worked up when Chuck Todd barged in.
Yeah. What are you, in love with Chuck Todd?
Get off my back, Dad. I mean...
He said Dad! He called me Dad!
- Did you hear it? - Oh, my God.
Donald, you are a big, fat baby.
I'm not fat. My doctor says I'm just full of mystery fluid
like a lava lamp.
Plus, you've never staged a coup.
Never been in the KGB.
And you've never enacted murderous revenge
on insolent journalists like Chuck Todd.
I mean, I want to, but the laws...
Oh, my God, the laws! This guy still has laws!
You know what? You blood-thirsty dictators
are a bunch of jerks!
Sorry, guys, I thought Donald was cool.
My bad.
- We're following reports that several - _
of the world's most brutal dictators
have defected from the G-A Million
and annexed part of Camp David as their own.
But first, our search for the still-missing Chad Todd
continues. Was it "Chad"?
I can't believe I've resorted to hanging with Boris Johnson.
It's like sitting next to my own umbilical cord.
Here in America, you have Tootsie Rolls,
and Hershey's and Butterfinger, but they're all too sweet.
Yuck.
Okay, very funny. What, is that
the world champion Washington Nationals out there? Ha.
I guess I'll always be stuck between G-7 and A Million,
and only a genius can figure out what wacky number that is.
Probably has like an eyeball symbol or something.
Wow, you've been such good little supporters.
You deserve a treat.
- Ow! - You rock!
These books are not free.
Venmo me, or it's legally stealing.
Sorry I've been M-I-A.
I followed what I thought was a monarch butterfly
for 46 miles, but it turned out
to be a Butterfinger wrapper caught in an air stream.
- How was the summit? - They all left me.
Now I know how the last Sudafed in the pack feels.
Come on, Mr. President.
Let me lead you to an epiphany
like that wrapper led me to outer Harrisburg.
_
Are you sure about this?
Mr. President, I'm more sure
about this than anything I've ever...
Okay, Jesus! I didn't ask for your life story!
Here we go.
Do you get it, yet?
No, I think I need to go a little further.
There it is!
I've tapped into that familiar feeling... power.
I don't like the G-7 or the G.A. Million because,
for whatever reason, they refuse to bow
to my every whim.
Why would I ever want to associate with people like that?
I don't know, Mr. President.
Don't you back-talk me!
You're right. I think I know how to feel powerful again.
Your stupid book ruined my life!
All I wanted was to introduce Daddy at the 2020 RNC,
inherit the Trump dynasty,
and live for 10,000 years
in a stainless steel orbiting dollhouse!
Clearly, you didn't get to that chapter
where I talk about that ski trip
we went on as kids. Remember that?
I don't know. Sort of.
That morning, after dad backhanded me
for not wearing a suit and tie over my snow pants,
I remember thinking, "Damn it, how can I ever compete
with perfect little Ivanka who never freaks out
when we go through a car wash".
Aah! Oh. I just went back there.
This whole time I've been thinking
"How can I compete with gross,
psychologically unstable Don Jr.?"
Oh, Ivanka, if you hadn't pushed me
to develop the debilitating insecurity
that rules my every moment,
I'd probably still be back in Colorado,
sucking down mugs of hot Natty Lite
after a long day of moose-punching.
And if I wasn't pushed to compete with you
to inherit Daddy's political dynasty,
I'd probably just settle for being a gorgeous mom
to three kids whose names I sometimes confuse
with characters on "Big Little Lies".
- We need to compete. - We need to compete.
It's the puppet master speaking.
I've decided to start a brand new summit,
and I need you two to speak at the opening ceremony.
Whoever does best will get to introduce me at the RNC.
Okay, compete, compete, compete.
Who's there? Is it my best friend Lester Holt
and a ragtag brotherhood of bad asses here to bust me out?
- I'd like to make a deal. - No way.
I'm finally going to say what I really think.
Mr. Trump, you are deeply, deeply rude. Sorry.
I just need one tiny thing from you,
and, in exchange, you'll get an exclusive interview,
softball questions, shared with me beforehand.
Wow, I'll say yes, but what's the tiny thing you need?
Nice doing business with you.
♪ Let your hair down ♪
♪ Fake philanthropy ♪
Anytime beard!
♪ Hide your politics ♪
♪ Behind your performative feminist identity ♪
♪ I'm back to Ivanka! ♪
♪ Oh, I'm back to Ivanka! ♪
♪ Whoa ♪
♪ Oh, I'm back to Ivanka Trump! ♪
I think you guys are trained now.
- What's up, Camp David? - Hello, kweens!
- My dad know... - My daddy knows...
- ... that safe spaces are... - ... that the lack of...
- ... are destroying this country. - ... is destroying this country.
- And we need less so-called... - And we need more nursing rooms.
...political correctness.
Too much real beard hair fumes.
And...
- Also close to his heart is - Also close to his heart is
- equal pay for equal work. - the right to bring your...
He said that the other day when
I was playing with LEGO blocks in the Oval Office.
Jesus Ass! The fumes are killing me.
And now, without further adieu,
President Donald J. Trump.
Someone just won themselves an RNC introduction spot.
Unless I change my mind later.
I really wanted that spot.
What the ass?!
But, like Ivanka, if you need
a running mate in 2024, I can be hella deferential.
But I live to scorn you!
But seriously, I'll win you the hepatitis vote.
Shut up. Earlier today,
when I took Chuck Todd's finger...
Exclusive interview airing Thursday at 4:00 A.M. Central.
... I thought I needed it to prove
I could run with the big dogs of the G.A. Million,
but now I realize that they aren't the big dog.
I'm the big dog because my children will stop
at nothing to win my approval.
We love you, Dad!
Not now, vagrant.
I'm therefore announcing a brand-new summit
for the only people who really matter.
The G-Me. It's just me.
Oh, and my two kids.
And because I got nothing to prove to the dictators,
I don't need this anymore.
I guess I will be wearing my
middle school graduation ring on my other hand.
At least I got my interview.
And the interview's off.
I'd speak up, but you gotta respect the office.
Oh! Ivanka, light of my life, hollow of my cheeks,
you were amazing up there!
Oh, Jared, I was angry at you before, but now?
You're complimenting me.
I am so sorry about earlier.
John McCain would be really proud of you.
Oh, Jared,
That's the most romantic thing you've
ever said to me!
Hey, Trumpy, you know, uh, that was pretty cool
what you did with that journalist's finger.
You know, if you aren't doing anything later...
Oh, sorry, Putin, but my brain just showed me
a picture of cheesy popcorn and told me to stop listening.
Excuse me. I've got a G-Me summit to attend.
Jared, get out of my seat!
I want to sit next to Ivanka so I can bother her!
I-I got plans anyway. I promised MBS
I'd go with him to check out the new line of bone saws.
Two peas in a pod, you two.
Let's go!
Just remembered I've never driven before.
Wheeee!
Trump!
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