Yearly Departed (2020) - full transcript
Comedy special features eulogies for the year 2020 with a line-up of all-women comedians discussing everything from casual sex to beige Band-Aids and everything in between that we've "lost" in 2020.
-Hi.
- Rachel Brosnahan!
Lookin' good!
-Mommy's coming.
-Yearly departed....
We have gathered
all you ladies here today
because 2020 was a trifling ho.
And together we are going
to lay this motherfucker
of a year to rest.
Because 2020 took so
much from us:
But I'm here today
to also remind you
that 2020 gave us so much...
- Banana bread.
- Yum.
- Insomnia.
- Yep.
And a sixth sense to know when
someone is standing six
feet away from you.
BT dubs, six feet equals
one Sterling K. Brown.
- Just happy to be useful,
ladies. Don't mind me!
Thanks, Ster-ster.
What a chocolate daddy he is.
-He hot.
- While we were all
unproductive slob kabobs,
2020 was out here doing
all of the things.
A global pandemic,
mass unemployment,
worldwide protests, wildfires,
murder hornets, Megxit, Brexit.
Yes, all of that happened
this year.
This 56-month-long year.
And although so many
were divided this year
about whose lives mattered
and if wiping down groceries
was really necessary
and bitch, yes it was.
We did have one common enemy:
the iPhone Weekly
Screen Time Notification.
I don't need to get
dragged like that.
- Thank you, let me live.
- Yeah. Let her live.
2020...
You were a big ol' dick.
And we are here to tell you
to rest in peace
even though you destroyed
every little ounce of ours.
-Yes!
- So now, in the spirit
of collective healing,
I'm turning it over to you,
to share about what
you lost in 2020.
All right, let's get this year
off our chests
and out of our minds, huh?
- Yeah!
- Yes.
- Let's do it.
- Great.
First to say a few words
about something dear to her:
please welcome
the iconic Tiffany Haddish.
- Thank you. Thank you.
I'm here to bid farewell
to casual sex.
This is extremely hard
and I apologize
if I have to cut
my remarks short.
I'm still in complete shock.
Utterly devastated,
and so, so horny.
-Mm-hmm.
-Casual sex was my rock.
It was there for me
in my darkest times:
After heartbreak.
After bombing onstage.
After my 10-year
high school reunion.
And I was married then.
It was a casual marriage.
-Amen.
-I'll never forget that feeling
that incredible feeling
of being on top of someone,
feeling that rush of passion,
staring deeply into their eyes,
and wondering what is his name.
-Mm-hmm.
-But then quarantine happened:
and Casual Sex was
suddenly gone.
Just gone.
They said it would be
a couple weeks
and I was like, okay.
This'll be good.
This is a chance for me to heal,
get my spirit, my soul together.
Maybe learn to do the splits
so the next time
I see some... baya, you feel me?
Baya! - Hell, yeah, bitch.
- Maybe in the meantime
I'll join a fuckpod.
The only problem is
once you enter a fuckpod,
you can't leave your fuckpod.
If you leave, you've
got to get a nasal swab
and two weeks of isolation
before you can even shake hands.
Sorry, the word "hands"...
I just...
It's a lot for me right now.
Cause you know hands.
Big hands, small hands.
I like small hands on a man,
'cause it makes my breasts
feel big.
You know what? That's not
what we're here about.
If God forbid you want to leave
your fuckpod for a fuckboy,
you had to ask yourself,
are they cute enough for me
to die in about three weeks?
Possibly.
And I stopped watching TV.
I just stopped it.
Because at this point,
all shows turn me on.
Planet Earth.
Kingdom of Plants 3D.
I love that British
nature man's voice.
Is there something
wrong with me?
-No there is not.
- And I don't know
if it's because
I like the way frogs fuck,
or the way a gazelle rides
another gazelle.
Have you ever watched
crickets do it?
It's amazing. - Oh, totally.
- And that's when it him me.
Casual sex is not coming back.
At first, I was actually
okay with it.
There's something about
men wearing a mask
and staying six feet away
that's such a turn on for me.
-Same.
- Girl, you know what
I'm saying?
I think it's something
about them not talking.
- Yep.
- But that doesn't matter.
- Going on a hike without
a face mask is the new
fucking without a condom.
The sad truth is
nothing can fully
replace casual sex.
Without it,
I'm a stranger to myself.
Okay?
I don't know who I am anymore.
I'm lost.
I got on Bumble, y'all.
I ended up meeting somebody.
He got tested, I got tested.
- I'm in a relationship now.
- Tiffany...
-I promised myself
that I wouldn't do that.
I just know that someday,
casual sex...
and I will meet again.
And this time, I won't
take you for granted.
I will let you put
it in my butts,
for two-and-a-half seconds.
And I will pretend to like it.
Until then...
casual sex is survived by mutual
masturbation over FaceTime,
and woke conversations.
Thank you so much.
- Wow.
That was so beautiful, Tiff.
Thank you for
sharing your truth.
-Thank you.
-Of course.
And I think I speak for
everyone when I say
I'm kind of offended that no one
asked me to join their fuckpod.
- I'm bouncing between
three fuckpods right now.
- Okay, I don't think that's
how that works.
-Oh, it works.
- Anyway, I think it's important
to remember
that while we said goodbye
to things we'll dearly miss,
this year claimed some victims
we're glad as hell are gone.
Like buffets.
And blowing out
birthday candles.
So now, to pay her respects
to something long overdue,
my queen, Natasha Rothwell.
- We are gathered here today
to say goodbye to TV cops.
TV cops lived in a magical,
beautiful world where
they were the ones
who solved crimes.
How cute.
TV cops lived a simple life,
they were the heroes.
And only ever occasionally
broke the rules
in the name of justice.
They went by many names:
Starsky, Hutch. Cagney, Lacey.
- Those little Paw Patrol
assholes.
- Yeah, those motherfuckers,
too. Turner, Hooch.
Sherlock. Even weird, alien,
sexy Benedict Cumberbatch
Sherlock.
- Benedict Cumberbatch is hot.
-So hot.
- And they came in so
many different pairings.
Big cop, small cop.
Old cop, rookie cop.
Good cop, bad cop.
Or as black folks called them,
bad cop, bad cop,
bad cop, bad cop.
As we bid farewell to TV cops,
we must also bid farewell
to buddy cops.
If you want a cop
to be your buddy,
you have to be a
white teenager with a gun.
And they'll take
you to Burger King!
- Mmm-mm-mm.
The hard part for me is
there were TV cops
that I really loved!
You know, I'll miss
rooting for McNulty
on my 8th re-watch of The Wire.
Even when he was bad,
he was endearing.
Was it his jawline?
I don't know.
And I'll miss loving
Carl Winslow.
Carl Winslow!
2020, ruined Carl Winslow!
-Can we keep Carl Winslow?
-No, honey, no.
They're gone.
They're all gone.
If I'm gonna be honest,
TV cops, I'm surprised
you survived as long as you did.
But by the grace of
executive producer Dick Wolf,
you guys lasted longer than
"Keeping Up
with the Kardashians."
-Mmm.
-With that said,
I want to extend my deepest
condolences to
recent theater school grads.
Look, I know you had
you heart set on
making your television debut
as a dead sex worker,
or a doorman, or a doorman
who's also a dead sex worker,
but today, I want to remember
the good times.
TV Cops, you always knew how to
make me laugh as a kid,
and you knew how to make me
laugh even harder as an adult.
Like when one of you said
"If you break the law,
you break the law.
We're gonna
treat everyone equally."
Oh, shit, in retrospect,
that was the funniest shit
I have ever heard
in my Black life.
Where do they come up with that?
Oh, speaking of
coming up with shit,
now that TV Cops are dead,
network TV is going to
have a void to fill.
So I've taken the liberty of
coming up with a few shows
with a different
group of municipal workers
that I think can take
their place...
Mailmen.
I didn't stutter, mailmen.
If there's anyone that needs
propaganda right now,
it's the U.S. Postal Service.
Phoebe, my posters please?
Can I get a C,
and something up-tempo.
Ooh, I like that. All right.
First up in primetime:
"U.S.P.S. I Love You."
Matt LeBlanc plays
a post office cashier
with dreams of being
a mail carrier.
Mila Kunis, she's
the post office manager
who falls in love with him.
All this talk of priority mail,
but when are you going
to make me a priority?
Yeah? - I'd be in that.
- For real?
- Yes.
-Okay, making deals!
Okay, not sure how
the postal workers will appeal
to young, cool audiences?
Well, buckle the fuck up:
Selena Gomez and Zendaya
star in "Going Postal".
Sex, drugs, and
express two-day shipping
in the continental U.S.
Oh, not enough action, you say?
I thought of that.
FedExxx.
Vis Diesel, the only
guns he needs are these.
-Brava!
- You know, they say
art imitates life,
but these shows were defunded
long before the actual
police departments.
After the service, please
join me in the garden
where we will be planting
evidence in TV Cops' memory.
Thank you.
- Thank you, for those
powerful words, Natasha.
And thank you to Vin Diesel
for wearing the hell
out of that mailman uniform.
Mmm.
And now please welcome
Rachie Brozz Brozz.
-Thank you, Phoebe.
This year, we said goodbye
forever to pants.
Thanks to 2020, our pants
have been tossed
in the great laundry hamper
in the sky.
-Yes!
- When there was no longer
a reason to leave the house,
pants lost any reason to exist.
The one time I put on pants
this year was to prove
to the Postmates guy
I hadn't totally lost my grip.
-Aw.
High rise, low rise,
light wash, acid wash,
boyfriend, girlfriend,
harem and assless.
But to really understand what
pants meant to us,
we have to start
from the beginning.
Pants were born at a time
before women
were allowed to wear them.
But like so many
freedom fighters before them,
pants stood up in the face
of inequality and injustice
and broke down barriers.
Thanks to Pants we have the
freedom to sit astride a horse.
To ride a bike without
our petticoat getting caught
in the spokes and killing us.
And to lady-spread on the subway
with reckless abandon.
-That's right.
Pants also made it easier for us
to run away from predators,
like men and bears.
Oh, and they had
these cute little pockets
that were perfect for
holding tiny things,
like our tampons
and our paychecks.
-Yeah.
- Alas, though pants started
off as a feminist statement,
they somehow evolved
into being so skinny
that they cut off
the blood flow to our brains.
It's a bad sign when
the best part of wearing pants
was taking them off at
the end of the day.
- Yes.
- That's true.
So maybe they had it coming.
And 2020 was
the inspiration that we needed.
Because this is
about liberation.
-Yes!
- Yeah, pants, a world without
you looks different.
With the death of pants, we also
lost so many other social norms:
Bras, portion control,
productivity,
showering regularly.
And, of course,
the concept of shame.
And to all that I say...
fuck it.
To hell with it!
To hell with all of it!
- To hell with dying my hair.
- Yes.
-To hell with shaving my pits?
- That's right. Let 'em grow.
- To hell with returning text
messages in a timely fashion!
- Yes! Yes.
- To hell with paying my taxes.
-Ye... No.
No, sorry, you absolutely have
to pay your taxes.
-To hell with pants.
-That's right.
Fuck pants.
-Yes.
-Fuck pants.
- Fuck pants!
- Yes!
Yes!
-Fuck pants!
- Ashes to ashes,
dungarees to distressed,
don't cry 'cause they're gone.
Smile, because you don't
have to get dressed.
-Okay.
-Thank you.
-That was good.
Damn.
All right.
Thank you, Rachel Brosnopants.
-Boo.
- Oh come on, it wrote
itself, I had to say it.
Listen, I support you on your
pantsless journey, Brozzies.
But they do keep
the air conditioner on in here
so you about to be cold.
Okay, I feel the dark spirit of
2020 lifting already.
-Shout out to Jesus.
-So to grace us with her wisdom
is my friend Patti Harrison
who's gonna lay to rest someone
very, very near to her.
- I am here today to honor
the passing
of Rich Girl
Instagram Influencers.
This is a shocking
loss for their family,
fans, followers, and...
their branded partnerships
with SmartWater.
They were collaborating
on making
a non-reusable metal
drinking straw
for women identifying cis-women.
And they were going to debut
it at the pop-up party
for the relaunch of Enron.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencers,
I can't tell whether or not you
were in fact "gone too soon."
The number of face-app
smoothing filters you used
made your age
absolutely indiscernible.
You could have left us
very young, yes,
but for all we know,
you could have
been well into your 90's.
Who's the daughter,
who's the mom?
They're both pushing vaginal
rejuvenations, you know? Ha ha.
Regardless, you left behind
an over-exfoliated legacy
and a pair of bone-chillingly
huge sunglasses.
But what is to blame
for this tremendous loss?
Was it the global
pandemic shutting down
all their favorite
moisture stores?
Was it the withdrawal from
not being able to take photos
of sunbeams shining through
their thigh gaps at Coachella?
Was it inserting "Kombucha-pons"
before proper clinical
trials could be conducted?
We'll never know.
But what is tragically certain,
is that there was still
so much left on Earth
for them to not learn.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencers,
though we were shocked
at your passing,
it should have come as
no surprise,
as you've died many time before.
You absolutely died over
this jumpsuit
you described as
"chic janitor vibes."
You died over this serum.
This car your dad or husband,
whatever, bought you.
But let's not focus on death.
Death's not what
funerals are about.
There were so many things
you accomplished in your time.
You discovered Italy, Paris,
Up State New York,
And you were almost always...
- Always on a boat?
- Yes, on a boat.
# boatlife #WomenWhoBoat
# BoatOrDie #BoaterSuppression.
And who could forget your
deeply surface-level
love for photography, which you
tried to get people to start
calling "Memory Remembering":
A term you coined for you brand
partnership with Fujifilm and...
Enron.
And most powerful of all.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencer,
you got involved.
When protests erupted
across the country,
you waited one full day
before posting your
sponsored results
from your belly-smoothing
Skinny Diet Tea.
- Yes.
- Wow.
- Though you may be gone,
your legacy will live on,
link in bio/swipe up to shop.
You're survived by
your children/siblings,
we can't tell:
Beckett, Sailor, Poet,
Jamison Neat, and Jaxson
with an X.
Now, in your honor,
we'll be following
the strict mourning practices
of "Spiritual But Not Religious,
fiscally conservative but
socially liberal,"
and together
we will light a candle.
It's from the line of
horse wax candles you made
in partnership with Lululemon,
and Hillary Clinton Hot Sauce,
-I'm with Her.
-And... yeah, Enron.
It has abundance
written on it, it's $190.
-That's a good price.
-No horse wax candles.
Rest in peace, Rich Girl
Instagram Influencers.
Namaslay!
Namaslay.
-Thank you.
Mmm.
- Thank you for that
moving tribute.
I haven't been that sad about
a rich white lady's demise
since Dorinda left "The Real
Housewives of New York."
-Left? Please.
Dorinda was fired. - Mm-hmm.
- I heard she was
hoping for a raise.
- Andy Cohen, pay Dorinda
what she's worth.
- Ladies, ladies,
please, settle. Okay?
- All right.
- And now please welcome
our second Natasha of the night,
that's Nattie L., of course.
I'm talking about
Natasha Leggero.
-Uh, sorry about that.
Um, Natasha had to step out
for a few.
She's having tiny issues,
but she'll be right here. Okay.
- Mommy! Mommy!
I don't want to be here!
- Daddy has Zoom trivia
with his buddies,
and it's illegal for me
to keep you in the car,
so just sit back here with
the iPad and be a good girl.
-I'm hungry.
-Just please, watch Peppa Pig.
If you can do a
convincing British accent
by the time I get back,
there'll be a bowl of chili in
it for you.
-I hate chili.
-Hi.
I am here today to say goodbye
to Having Any More Children.
Good-bye to the painful, messy,
psychologically scarring
event known as...
- having sex with my husband.
- Mmm!
- No one should be having
any more kids
and I say this as someone who
loves a gender reveal party
and guessing what natural
catastrophe it will cause.
By about April of this year,
I was ready to reach down there
tie my own tubes,
and double knot that shit.
- Amen.
- Yes.
- To be clear, it's been
great having this time with
my daughter, Gianna... I hope
I'm pronouncing that correctly.
But after being quarantined
with her for eight months,
I've been thinking of sending
back my Wayfair furniture
with a fun surprise.
I love my daughter.
But I love her in
the same way that I love LSD.
In microdoses.
But during this quarantine,
I'm ashamed to say,
there have been times
when I don't like her.
Unless she's sleeping,
in which case,
I forget I have her.
But I didn't sign up
to be a preschool teacher.
I didn't have
a baby to teach it.
Okay, I had a baby
to get likes on Instagram
just like everybody else.
-What's your baby's handle?
-Just DM me.
And I'm not just a teacher.
Now that she's home
all day every day,
I'm a personal chef,
well, I was until I taught her
how to use DoorDash.
But I'm a camp counselor,
a child psychologist,
a gym teacher.
And, on really rough nights,
a sanitation worker.
'Cause she shits her pants.
People love to point out
that having a baby
ruins your body,
and don't worry, it does,
but it's your mind
that really takes the beating.
Imagine not having to log on to
the Internet to be trolled?
She makes fun of me constantly.
I fell like I'm living with
a suspended Reddit user.
Sometimes I daydream about
what it would be like
to go through this quarantine
without a child.
I'd do social distance
happy hour with homemade sangria
every night,
I'd write two pilots,
one comedy, one deeply
affecting costume drama.
I'd finally learn to paint.
But no, instead, I've spent
my entire quarantine
trying to convince a 3-year-old
to wear a mask.
She's like a Trump supporter.
Always shouting,
"No Mask! No Mask!
Dr. Fauci is a
deep state operative!"
I used to want to
have more kids but now,
the most I'd do is adopt
a 14 year-old
who is good at crafts
and maybe some light dusting.
It's honestly irresponsible
to have any more kids.
I mean, what
are they inheriting?
A sinking planet?
Toxic air?
A "Fresh Prince" reboot?
-Mommy, I'm bleeding.
-Ugh.
Always bleeding, all right.
I have to go.
- I'm coming.
What is in your mouth?
-God.
And I glad I invested in an IUD.
- Same here.
- Anyway, I know
there's someone here
who can unite us with
her brilliance,
and that is Ziwe.
Woo!
-Yes!
- Today we say goodbye to the
era of the beige Band-Aid.
Beige Band-Aids were born in
Highland Park, New Jersey
in 1920.
Conceived by Earle Dickson,
the Band-Aid only came in beige
because the 1920's were
famously safe for Black people
-Ha-ha.
-Famously.
But this year was different.
As protests against
police violence
erupted across the nation,
our friends at the
Band-Aid corporation,
and so many corporations
stood up and declared with
a loud, triumphant voice,
"Fine. Here."
Isn't it nice?
We asked for equality and
we got a brown Band-Aid.
A little brown Band-Aid
on a systemic bullet hole.
- Pass the plate because
this is a sermon.
-Mm-hmm.
-We must also pay our respects
to all of
the civilian casualties
that the death of
the Beige Band-Aid era
took with them now that
corporate racism isn't allowed:
Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben,
Chief Wahoo, Trader Ming
and the nameless
Native American butter girl.
Thankfully, Aunt Jemima's
legacy will live on
in an Oscar-nominated film
about her life,
starring an all-white cast.
- Now along with these
new diverse Band-Aids
came a tidal wave of
performative bullshit
from corporations
and suddenly everyone
was apologizing for
massive blindspots
about their unchecked racism.
Networks purged
blackface from every beloved
sitcom from the past 15 years.
There's also Washington D.C.'s
newly named
"Black Lives Matter" plaza.
- Oh, I was stopped
and frisked there.
-Same here.
- In the post-beige
Band-Aid world,
apologizing became the norm.
Celebrities apologized for
their accidental plantation
weddings,
even though plantation was right
there in the name of the venue.
-Thank you.
- I didn't realize the
era of the beige Band-Aid
had died until I started
getting a flurry of texts
from my former co-workers
expressing their own apologies
for various slights.
I truly had no idea that
that many white people
had my phone number,
and that's on me.
The era of the
beige-only Band-Aid is gone,
and all it took was
a literal 100 years.
-100 damn years.
- So, thank goodness we now
have a Band-Aid in the shade
of Naomi Campbell...
-Nice.
-Iconic.
Thank you.
-Wow.
Thank you so much, Ziwe.
-You're welcome.
- Okay, well, without
further ado,
it is my pleasure and my honor...
Oh my God, I'm getting chills
just thinking about it.
...to bring up the great,
the legendary,
Sarah Silverman.
-Hello, friends.
We're gathered here this
evening to bid farewell
to Making America Great Again.
-Woo!
- You were a concept,
a political agenda,
a slogan on a hat made in China.
So let's take a moment
of silence.
Moment over. All right, Judy.
-All right, cut it, Judy.
-Farewell Lil' MAGA.
It's high time we lay
you the fuck to rest.
Can you imagine what
George Washington would say
if he saw America right now?
He'd be like, what's a toilet?
Why do women have bank accounts?
What's a car?
Where are all the horses?
Where's Martha, is she dead?
What's a phone?
Salad in a bag?
This country's really changed
since its inception.
MAGA, it's hard to pinpoint
exactly when you were born.
In recent history,
I'd say it started
when a nice lady from Alaska
shot moose from a helicopter.
And people loved it.
You started really
walking when racist chodes
accused the first black
president of being from Kenya.
And then you moved right
into that Oval Office
when the electoral college
decided they'd rather
roll the dice on a failed casino
mogul than vote for a woman.
We never saw you coming,
and by "we",
of course I mean white liberals.
I'm not just here
to criticize you.
I admired a lot about you.
You were a noble goal.
I mean who doesn't
want to be great?
You promised a wall
and you made one
out of strong metal cages
with toddlers inside.
You touted law and order and
you teargassed moms in Portland.
You wanted to make
Americans richer.
And you did that!
As long as they
were already rich.
But I gotta be honest.
When I close my eyes and
picture "great,"
I don't see gumming up
the U.S. Post Office
to keep people from voting or
paying less in taxes than
you paid for your TOTO toilet...
-Hell no.
- And MAGA, I admired your
commitment to diversity.
It didn't matter whether
someone was a disgraced lawyer
or a disgraced CEO,
or even a disgraced
white nationalist,
to make America great again,
they all had a seat
at the table.
And you're responsible
for some of
the funniest jokes, like,
"Mexico will pay
for the border wall"
and "The virus will
disappear by April,"
and that prank you pulled
on Herman Cain.
Wow. Just wow.
And with your passing,
there are so many
more goodbyes to say.
Goodbye to the idea that
education is indoctrination.
-Yes!
- Goodbye to the fear
that at any moment,
the nuclear codes could
wind up on Twitter.
-Hell, yeah.
- Goodbye to the idea that
your opinion is science.
-Yes.
- Life will improve for so many
in a post-MAGA world.
Endangered species, democracy.
Infrastructure.
Black and indigenous
people of color.
LGBTQIA+ peeps.
Jews. Whoops, guess we
are gonna replace you.
But not until we get a handle
on controlling the weather.
So to making America
great again,
we say, adios because we know
how much you'll hate that.
You know, it turns out,
you can't make something
great again if it wasn't
great to begin with.
When was this "again?" anyway.
Was again when black people
weren't allowed in certain towns
after sundown? - No.
- Was it back in 2002 when
it was still illegal in Texas
to perform and receive anal sex?
Up until the 70s, women couldn't
apply for a bank account
without a man's permission.
Thank you, Justice Ruthie.
Sure, there have been
great things about us:
Of course there have been
great things about us.
Purple mountains majesty.
Um, Costco.
24 hour dry cleaning.
Dolly Parton.
-She's great.
- Gun ranges next
to liquor stores.
-That is a thing.
- But now we've taken
off the red hat,
and it's our job to climb out
from under the rubble,
and the wreckage of
what's left of our country,
and just...
just make America good.
Because we can be good.
Despite what the past four
to 300 years have taught us,
it's not too late. - Yes.
- Maybe this is because
I'm high, I don't know,
but we've gotten
through so much.
And we've gotten through it
with grit and resilience
and porn that's specific
to our needs.
-Hell, yes.
- I know we have it in
us to Make America Good.
- Say it.
- Preach.
-I've seen us be good.
How during this
fucking awful year,
we showed up for each other.
When we marched in
peaceful protest.
When we helped our neighbors.
When we got on our fire escapes
and banged our pots and pans
for the frontline workers
in a collective,
shared primal scream.
-Yeah!
-Because goodness is greatness.
So we'll move on from
the MAGA era stronger.
- Yes.
- And wiser.
-Yes!
- And one step closer
to deleting Facebook.
-Amen.
- Because this is America,
goddamnit.
And are we the
greatest country in the world?
No.
But are we the biggest?
Also no.
But we are the craziest,
and that's not nothing.
-Woo!
- And so I stand before
you today hopeful.
Because when I look out
at this crowd,
I see women in this
room who have made us
feel a little bit better.
And it reminds me,
we're in this together.
- I got your backs,
I got your backs.
I got all your backs. - Wahoo.
-Because...
what was I saying?
- America?
- I was?
Oh, okay.
Well, sayonara 2020.
I hate to see you leave but
I love to watch you go.
-Well, ladies, we did it.
- Woo.
- Yes.
- We have said goodbye
to so much here today.
But as I look around this room,
I don't feel a sense of loss.
2020 tried to break us,
but today,
some of the funniest women
that I know
got the last motherfucking word.
- Woo!
- Yes, Phoene Robinson!
-Here, bitches.
- Yeah!
- Woo!
-So in closing, thank you.
Thank you for helping us
put this year to rest.
I needed it.
And now...
I have prepared one
final in memoriam
to take us out. Microphone?
Thanks.
I don't normally sing, so, uh...
bear with me.
-Um, I can sing.
-Oh, shit.
-It's Christine Aguilera.
-Fuck it, I'm out.
-♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for the memories ♪
♪ I'm so tired
but I can't sleep ♪
♪ Standing on the edge
of something much too deep ♪
♪ It's funny how it
feel so much ♪
♪ But we cannot say a word ♪
♪ We are screaming inside ♪
♪ But we can't be heard ♪
♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for your memories ♪
♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
- What note can't you hit?
- ♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for the memories ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for ♪
- Yes, child, yes. Sing it!
-♪ The memories ♪
- Happy New Year,
see you in 2021, boos.
-♪ Lowkey Fuck 2020 ♪
♪ Still sad still ain't
got no money ♪
♪ I ain't got a watch
upon my wrist ♪
♪ I just got some shit
I gotta fix ♪
-Hi, ladies,
you look gorgeous.
Sorry I can't be on
the floor with you.
Where's my eyeline?
Eyelines to the podium.
Feel free to look down,
look around,
like you would anyway.
-2020 was a triflin' ho.
-So true.
-Hold up.
-Nobody's here.
- They will be. In the VFX.
-This is nice.
- ♪ I'm just stating the facts,
this year is just whack ♪
♪ Emotionally
I am lonely and anxious ♪
♪ And mad ♪
- Perfect,
let's get you dancing.
-♪ Lowkey fuck 2020 ♪
- Why am I dancing?
What's the intention?
- Christina Aguilera is
singing "I Will Remember".
-I can give it a try.
My dress is like vinyl, so...
Latex, like, making some noise.
-Fuck pants!
Fuck pants.
- Brown Band-Aids.
End of racism.
Brown... woo!
End of racism.
-Oh, shit.
Oh, shit. Okay.
I can't believe it!
- Rachel Brosnahan!
Lookin' good!
-Mommy's coming.
-Yearly departed....
We have gathered
all you ladies here today
because 2020 was a trifling ho.
And together we are going
to lay this motherfucker
of a year to rest.
Because 2020 took so
much from us:
But I'm here today
to also remind you
that 2020 gave us so much...
- Banana bread.
- Yum.
- Insomnia.
- Yep.
And a sixth sense to know when
someone is standing six
feet away from you.
BT dubs, six feet equals
one Sterling K. Brown.
- Just happy to be useful,
ladies. Don't mind me!
Thanks, Ster-ster.
What a chocolate daddy he is.
-He hot.
- While we were all
unproductive slob kabobs,
2020 was out here doing
all of the things.
A global pandemic,
mass unemployment,
worldwide protests, wildfires,
murder hornets, Megxit, Brexit.
Yes, all of that happened
this year.
This 56-month-long year.
And although so many
were divided this year
about whose lives mattered
and if wiping down groceries
was really necessary
and bitch, yes it was.
We did have one common enemy:
the iPhone Weekly
Screen Time Notification.
I don't need to get
dragged like that.
- Thank you, let me live.
- Yeah. Let her live.
2020...
You were a big ol' dick.
And we are here to tell you
to rest in peace
even though you destroyed
every little ounce of ours.
-Yes!
- So now, in the spirit
of collective healing,
I'm turning it over to you,
to share about what
you lost in 2020.
All right, let's get this year
off our chests
and out of our minds, huh?
- Yeah!
- Yes.
- Let's do it.
- Great.
First to say a few words
about something dear to her:
please welcome
the iconic Tiffany Haddish.
- Thank you. Thank you.
I'm here to bid farewell
to casual sex.
This is extremely hard
and I apologize
if I have to cut
my remarks short.
I'm still in complete shock.
Utterly devastated,
and so, so horny.
-Mm-hmm.
-Casual sex was my rock.
It was there for me
in my darkest times:
After heartbreak.
After bombing onstage.
After my 10-year
high school reunion.
And I was married then.
It was a casual marriage.
-Amen.
-I'll never forget that feeling
that incredible feeling
of being on top of someone,
feeling that rush of passion,
staring deeply into their eyes,
and wondering what is his name.
-Mm-hmm.
-But then quarantine happened:
and Casual Sex was
suddenly gone.
Just gone.
They said it would be
a couple weeks
and I was like, okay.
This'll be good.
This is a chance for me to heal,
get my spirit, my soul together.
Maybe learn to do the splits
so the next time
I see some... baya, you feel me?
Baya! - Hell, yeah, bitch.
- Maybe in the meantime
I'll join a fuckpod.
The only problem is
once you enter a fuckpod,
you can't leave your fuckpod.
If you leave, you've
got to get a nasal swab
and two weeks of isolation
before you can even shake hands.
Sorry, the word "hands"...
I just...
It's a lot for me right now.
Cause you know hands.
Big hands, small hands.
I like small hands on a man,
'cause it makes my breasts
feel big.
You know what? That's not
what we're here about.
If God forbid you want to leave
your fuckpod for a fuckboy,
you had to ask yourself,
are they cute enough for me
to die in about three weeks?
Possibly.
And I stopped watching TV.
I just stopped it.
Because at this point,
all shows turn me on.
Planet Earth.
Kingdom of Plants 3D.
I love that British
nature man's voice.
Is there something
wrong with me?
-No there is not.
- And I don't know
if it's because
I like the way frogs fuck,
or the way a gazelle rides
another gazelle.
Have you ever watched
crickets do it?
It's amazing. - Oh, totally.
- And that's when it him me.
Casual sex is not coming back.
At first, I was actually
okay with it.
There's something about
men wearing a mask
and staying six feet away
that's such a turn on for me.
-Same.
- Girl, you know what
I'm saying?
I think it's something
about them not talking.
- Yep.
- But that doesn't matter.
- Going on a hike without
a face mask is the new
fucking without a condom.
The sad truth is
nothing can fully
replace casual sex.
Without it,
I'm a stranger to myself.
Okay?
I don't know who I am anymore.
I'm lost.
I got on Bumble, y'all.
I ended up meeting somebody.
He got tested, I got tested.
- I'm in a relationship now.
- Tiffany...
-I promised myself
that I wouldn't do that.
I just know that someday,
casual sex...
and I will meet again.
And this time, I won't
take you for granted.
I will let you put
it in my butts,
for two-and-a-half seconds.
And I will pretend to like it.
Until then...
casual sex is survived by mutual
masturbation over FaceTime,
and woke conversations.
Thank you so much.
- Wow.
That was so beautiful, Tiff.
Thank you for
sharing your truth.
-Thank you.
-Of course.
And I think I speak for
everyone when I say
I'm kind of offended that no one
asked me to join their fuckpod.
- I'm bouncing between
three fuckpods right now.
- Okay, I don't think that's
how that works.
-Oh, it works.
- Anyway, I think it's important
to remember
that while we said goodbye
to things we'll dearly miss,
this year claimed some victims
we're glad as hell are gone.
Like buffets.
And blowing out
birthday candles.
So now, to pay her respects
to something long overdue,
my queen, Natasha Rothwell.
- We are gathered here today
to say goodbye to TV cops.
TV cops lived in a magical,
beautiful world where
they were the ones
who solved crimes.
How cute.
TV cops lived a simple life,
they were the heroes.
And only ever occasionally
broke the rules
in the name of justice.
They went by many names:
Starsky, Hutch. Cagney, Lacey.
- Those little Paw Patrol
assholes.
- Yeah, those motherfuckers,
too. Turner, Hooch.
Sherlock. Even weird, alien,
sexy Benedict Cumberbatch
Sherlock.
- Benedict Cumberbatch is hot.
-So hot.
- And they came in so
many different pairings.
Big cop, small cop.
Old cop, rookie cop.
Good cop, bad cop.
Or as black folks called them,
bad cop, bad cop,
bad cop, bad cop.
As we bid farewell to TV cops,
we must also bid farewell
to buddy cops.
If you want a cop
to be your buddy,
you have to be a
white teenager with a gun.
And they'll take
you to Burger King!
- Mmm-mm-mm.
The hard part for me is
there were TV cops
that I really loved!
You know, I'll miss
rooting for McNulty
on my 8th re-watch of The Wire.
Even when he was bad,
he was endearing.
Was it his jawline?
I don't know.
And I'll miss loving
Carl Winslow.
Carl Winslow!
2020, ruined Carl Winslow!
-Can we keep Carl Winslow?
-No, honey, no.
They're gone.
They're all gone.
If I'm gonna be honest,
TV cops, I'm surprised
you survived as long as you did.
But by the grace of
executive producer Dick Wolf,
you guys lasted longer than
"Keeping Up
with the Kardashians."
-Mmm.
-With that said,
I want to extend my deepest
condolences to
recent theater school grads.
Look, I know you had
you heart set on
making your television debut
as a dead sex worker,
or a doorman, or a doorman
who's also a dead sex worker,
but today, I want to remember
the good times.
TV Cops, you always knew how to
make me laugh as a kid,
and you knew how to make me
laugh even harder as an adult.
Like when one of you said
"If you break the law,
you break the law.
We're gonna
treat everyone equally."
Oh, shit, in retrospect,
that was the funniest shit
I have ever heard
in my Black life.
Where do they come up with that?
Oh, speaking of
coming up with shit,
now that TV Cops are dead,
network TV is going to
have a void to fill.
So I've taken the liberty of
coming up with a few shows
with a different
group of municipal workers
that I think can take
their place...
Mailmen.
I didn't stutter, mailmen.
If there's anyone that needs
propaganda right now,
it's the U.S. Postal Service.
Phoebe, my posters please?
Can I get a C,
and something up-tempo.
Ooh, I like that. All right.
First up in primetime:
"U.S.P.S. I Love You."
Matt LeBlanc plays
a post office cashier
with dreams of being
a mail carrier.
Mila Kunis, she's
the post office manager
who falls in love with him.
All this talk of priority mail,
but when are you going
to make me a priority?
Yeah? - I'd be in that.
- For real?
- Yes.
-Okay, making deals!
Okay, not sure how
the postal workers will appeal
to young, cool audiences?
Well, buckle the fuck up:
Selena Gomez and Zendaya
star in "Going Postal".
Sex, drugs, and
express two-day shipping
in the continental U.S.
Oh, not enough action, you say?
I thought of that.
FedExxx.
Vis Diesel, the only
guns he needs are these.
-Brava!
- You know, they say
art imitates life,
but these shows were defunded
long before the actual
police departments.
After the service, please
join me in the garden
where we will be planting
evidence in TV Cops' memory.
Thank you.
- Thank you, for those
powerful words, Natasha.
And thank you to Vin Diesel
for wearing the hell
out of that mailman uniform.
Mmm.
And now please welcome
Rachie Brozz Brozz.
-Thank you, Phoebe.
This year, we said goodbye
forever to pants.
Thanks to 2020, our pants
have been tossed
in the great laundry hamper
in the sky.
-Yes!
- When there was no longer
a reason to leave the house,
pants lost any reason to exist.
The one time I put on pants
this year was to prove
to the Postmates guy
I hadn't totally lost my grip.
-Aw.
High rise, low rise,
light wash, acid wash,
boyfriend, girlfriend,
harem and assless.
But to really understand what
pants meant to us,
we have to start
from the beginning.
Pants were born at a time
before women
were allowed to wear them.
But like so many
freedom fighters before them,
pants stood up in the face
of inequality and injustice
and broke down barriers.
Thanks to Pants we have the
freedom to sit astride a horse.
To ride a bike without
our petticoat getting caught
in the spokes and killing us.
And to lady-spread on the subway
with reckless abandon.
-That's right.
Pants also made it easier for us
to run away from predators,
like men and bears.
Oh, and they had
these cute little pockets
that were perfect for
holding tiny things,
like our tampons
and our paychecks.
-Yeah.
- Alas, though pants started
off as a feminist statement,
they somehow evolved
into being so skinny
that they cut off
the blood flow to our brains.
It's a bad sign when
the best part of wearing pants
was taking them off at
the end of the day.
- Yes.
- That's true.
So maybe they had it coming.
And 2020 was
the inspiration that we needed.
Because this is
about liberation.
-Yes!
- Yeah, pants, a world without
you looks different.
With the death of pants, we also
lost so many other social norms:
Bras, portion control,
productivity,
showering regularly.
And, of course,
the concept of shame.
And to all that I say...
fuck it.
To hell with it!
To hell with all of it!
- To hell with dying my hair.
- Yes.
-To hell with shaving my pits?
- That's right. Let 'em grow.
- To hell with returning text
messages in a timely fashion!
- Yes! Yes.
- To hell with paying my taxes.
-Ye... No.
No, sorry, you absolutely have
to pay your taxes.
-To hell with pants.
-That's right.
Fuck pants.
-Yes.
-Fuck pants.
- Fuck pants!
- Yes!
Yes!
-Fuck pants!
- Ashes to ashes,
dungarees to distressed,
don't cry 'cause they're gone.
Smile, because you don't
have to get dressed.
-Okay.
-Thank you.
-That was good.
Damn.
All right.
Thank you, Rachel Brosnopants.
-Boo.
- Oh come on, it wrote
itself, I had to say it.
Listen, I support you on your
pantsless journey, Brozzies.
But they do keep
the air conditioner on in here
so you about to be cold.
Okay, I feel the dark spirit of
2020 lifting already.
-Shout out to Jesus.
-So to grace us with her wisdom
is my friend Patti Harrison
who's gonna lay to rest someone
very, very near to her.
- I am here today to honor
the passing
of Rich Girl
Instagram Influencers.
This is a shocking
loss for their family,
fans, followers, and...
their branded partnerships
with SmartWater.
They were collaborating
on making
a non-reusable metal
drinking straw
for women identifying cis-women.
And they were going to debut
it at the pop-up party
for the relaunch of Enron.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencers,
I can't tell whether or not you
were in fact "gone too soon."
The number of face-app
smoothing filters you used
made your age
absolutely indiscernible.
You could have left us
very young, yes,
but for all we know,
you could have
been well into your 90's.
Who's the daughter,
who's the mom?
They're both pushing vaginal
rejuvenations, you know? Ha ha.
Regardless, you left behind
an over-exfoliated legacy
and a pair of bone-chillingly
huge sunglasses.
But what is to blame
for this tremendous loss?
Was it the global
pandemic shutting down
all their favorite
moisture stores?
Was it the withdrawal from
not being able to take photos
of sunbeams shining through
their thigh gaps at Coachella?
Was it inserting "Kombucha-pons"
before proper clinical
trials could be conducted?
We'll never know.
But what is tragically certain,
is that there was still
so much left on Earth
for them to not learn.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencers,
though we were shocked
at your passing,
it should have come as
no surprise,
as you've died many time before.
You absolutely died over
this jumpsuit
you described as
"chic janitor vibes."
You died over this serum.
This car your dad or husband,
whatever, bought you.
But let's not focus on death.
Death's not what
funerals are about.
There were so many things
you accomplished in your time.
You discovered Italy, Paris,
Up State New York,
And you were almost always...
- Always on a boat?
- Yes, on a boat.
# boatlife #WomenWhoBoat
# BoatOrDie #BoaterSuppression.
And who could forget your
deeply surface-level
love for photography, which you
tried to get people to start
calling "Memory Remembering":
A term you coined for you brand
partnership with Fujifilm and...
Enron.
And most powerful of all.
Rich Girl Instagram Influencer,
you got involved.
When protests erupted
across the country,
you waited one full day
before posting your
sponsored results
from your belly-smoothing
Skinny Diet Tea.
- Yes.
- Wow.
- Though you may be gone,
your legacy will live on,
link in bio/swipe up to shop.
You're survived by
your children/siblings,
we can't tell:
Beckett, Sailor, Poet,
Jamison Neat, and Jaxson
with an X.
Now, in your honor,
we'll be following
the strict mourning practices
of "Spiritual But Not Religious,
fiscally conservative but
socially liberal,"
and together
we will light a candle.
It's from the line of
horse wax candles you made
in partnership with Lululemon,
and Hillary Clinton Hot Sauce,
-I'm with Her.
-And... yeah, Enron.
It has abundance
written on it, it's $190.
-That's a good price.
-No horse wax candles.
Rest in peace, Rich Girl
Instagram Influencers.
Namaslay!
Namaslay.
-Thank you.
Mmm.
- Thank you for that
moving tribute.
I haven't been that sad about
a rich white lady's demise
since Dorinda left "The Real
Housewives of New York."
-Left? Please.
Dorinda was fired. - Mm-hmm.
- I heard she was
hoping for a raise.
- Andy Cohen, pay Dorinda
what she's worth.
- Ladies, ladies,
please, settle. Okay?
- All right.
- And now please welcome
our second Natasha of the night,
that's Nattie L., of course.
I'm talking about
Natasha Leggero.
-Uh, sorry about that.
Um, Natasha had to step out
for a few.
She's having tiny issues,
but she'll be right here. Okay.
- Mommy! Mommy!
I don't want to be here!
- Daddy has Zoom trivia
with his buddies,
and it's illegal for me
to keep you in the car,
so just sit back here with
the iPad and be a good girl.
-I'm hungry.
-Just please, watch Peppa Pig.
If you can do a
convincing British accent
by the time I get back,
there'll be a bowl of chili in
it for you.
-I hate chili.
-Hi.
I am here today to say goodbye
to Having Any More Children.
Good-bye to the painful, messy,
psychologically scarring
event known as...
- having sex with my husband.
- Mmm!
- No one should be having
any more kids
and I say this as someone who
loves a gender reveal party
and guessing what natural
catastrophe it will cause.
By about April of this year,
I was ready to reach down there
tie my own tubes,
and double knot that shit.
- Amen.
- Yes.
- To be clear, it's been
great having this time with
my daughter, Gianna... I hope
I'm pronouncing that correctly.
But after being quarantined
with her for eight months,
I've been thinking of sending
back my Wayfair furniture
with a fun surprise.
I love my daughter.
But I love her in
the same way that I love LSD.
In microdoses.
But during this quarantine,
I'm ashamed to say,
there have been times
when I don't like her.
Unless she's sleeping,
in which case,
I forget I have her.
But I didn't sign up
to be a preschool teacher.
I didn't have
a baby to teach it.
Okay, I had a baby
to get likes on Instagram
just like everybody else.
-What's your baby's handle?
-Just DM me.
And I'm not just a teacher.
Now that she's home
all day every day,
I'm a personal chef,
well, I was until I taught her
how to use DoorDash.
But I'm a camp counselor,
a child psychologist,
a gym teacher.
And, on really rough nights,
a sanitation worker.
'Cause she shits her pants.
People love to point out
that having a baby
ruins your body,
and don't worry, it does,
but it's your mind
that really takes the beating.
Imagine not having to log on to
the Internet to be trolled?
She makes fun of me constantly.
I fell like I'm living with
a suspended Reddit user.
Sometimes I daydream about
what it would be like
to go through this quarantine
without a child.
I'd do social distance
happy hour with homemade sangria
every night,
I'd write two pilots,
one comedy, one deeply
affecting costume drama.
I'd finally learn to paint.
But no, instead, I've spent
my entire quarantine
trying to convince a 3-year-old
to wear a mask.
She's like a Trump supporter.
Always shouting,
"No Mask! No Mask!
Dr. Fauci is a
deep state operative!"
I used to want to
have more kids but now,
the most I'd do is adopt
a 14 year-old
who is good at crafts
and maybe some light dusting.
It's honestly irresponsible
to have any more kids.
I mean, what
are they inheriting?
A sinking planet?
Toxic air?
A "Fresh Prince" reboot?
-Mommy, I'm bleeding.
-Ugh.
Always bleeding, all right.
I have to go.
- I'm coming.
What is in your mouth?
-God.
And I glad I invested in an IUD.
- Same here.
- Anyway, I know
there's someone here
who can unite us with
her brilliance,
and that is Ziwe.
Woo!
-Yes!
- Today we say goodbye to the
era of the beige Band-Aid.
Beige Band-Aids were born in
Highland Park, New Jersey
in 1920.
Conceived by Earle Dickson,
the Band-Aid only came in beige
because the 1920's were
famously safe for Black people
-Ha-ha.
-Famously.
But this year was different.
As protests against
police violence
erupted across the nation,
our friends at the
Band-Aid corporation,
and so many corporations
stood up and declared with
a loud, triumphant voice,
"Fine. Here."
Isn't it nice?
We asked for equality and
we got a brown Band-Aid.
A little brown Band-Aid
on a systemic bullet hole.
- Pass the plate because
this is a sermon.
-Mm-hmm.
-We must also pay our respects
to all of
the civilian casualties
that the death of
the Beige Band-Aid era
took with them now that
corporate racism isn't allowed:
Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben,
Chief Wahoo, Trader Ming
and the nameless
Native American butter girl.
Thankfully, Aunt Jemima's
legacy will live on
in an Oscar-nominated film
about her life,
starring an all-white cast.
- Now along with these
new diverse Band-Aids
came a tidal wave of
performative bullshit
from corporations
and suddenly everyone
was apologizing for
massive blindspots
about their unchecked racism.
Networks purged
blackface from every beloved
sitcom from the past 15 years.
There's also Washington D.C.'s
newly named
"Black Lives Matter" plaza.
- Oh, I was stopped
and frisked there.
-Same here.
- In the post-beige
Band-Aid world,
apologizing became the norm.
Celebrities apologized for
their accidental plantation
weddings,
even though plantation was right
there in the name of the venue.
-Thank you.
- I didn't realize the
era of the beige Band-Aid
had died until I started
getting a flurry of texts
from my former co-workers
expressing their own apologies
for various slights.
I truly had no idea that
that many white people
had my phone number,
and that's on me.
The era of the
beige-only Band-Aid is gone,
and all it took was
a literal 100 years.
-100 damn years.
- So, thank goodness we now
have a Band-Aid in the shade
of Naomi Campbell...
-Nice.
-Iconic.
Thank you.
-Wow.
Thank you so much, Ziwe.
-You're welcome.
- Okay, well, without
further ado,
it is my pleasure and my honor...
Oh my God, I'm getting chills
just thinking about it.
...to bring up the great,
the legendary,
Sarah Silverman.
-Hello, friends.
We're gathered here this
evening to bid farewell
to Making America Great Again.
-Woo!
- You were a concept,
a political agenda,
a slogan on a hat made in China.
So let's take a moment
of silence.
Moment over. All right, Judy.
-All right, cut it, Judy.
-Farewell Lil' MAGA.
It's high time we lay
you the fuck to rest.
Can you imagine what
George Washington would say
if he saw America right now?
He'd be like, what's a toilet?
Why do women have bank accounts?
What's a car?
Where are all the horses?
Where's Martha, is she dead?
What's a phone?
Salad in a bag?
This country's really changed
since its inception.
MAGA, it's hard to pinpoint
exactly when you were born.
In recent history,
I'd say it started
when a nice lady from Alaska
shot moose from a helicopter.
And people loved it.
You started really
walking when racist chodes
accused the first black
president of being from Kenya.
And then you moved right
into that Oval Office
when the electoral college
decided they'd rather
roll the dice on a failed casino
mogul than vote for a woman.
We never saw you coming,
and by "we",
of course I mean white liberals.
I'm not just here
to criticize you.
I admired a lot about you.
You were a noble goal.
I mean who doesn't
want to be great?
You promised a wall
and you made one
out of strong metal cages
with toddlers inside.
You touted law and order and
you teargassed moms in Portland.
You wanted to make
Americans richer.
And you did that!
As long as they
were already rich.
But I gotta be honest.
When I close my eyes and
picture "great,"
I don't see gumming up
the U.S. Post Office
to keep people from voting or
paying less in taxes than
you paid for your TOTO toilet...
-Hell no.
- And MAGA, I admired your
commitment to diversity.
It didn't matter whether
someone was a disgraced lawyer
or a disgraced CEO,
or even a disgraced
white nationalist,
to make America great again,
they all had a seat
at the table.
And you're responsible
for some of
the funniest jokes, like,
"Mexico will pay
for the border wall"
and "The virus will
disappear by April,"
and that prank you pulled
on Herman Cain.
Wow. Just wow.
And with your passing,
there are so many
more goodbyes to say.
Goodbye to the idea that
education is indoctrination.
-Yes!
- Goodbye to the fear
that at any moment,
the nuclear codes could
wind up on Twitter.
-Hell, yeah.
- Goodbye to the idea that
your opinion is science.
-Yes.
- Life will improve for so many
in a post-MAGA world.
Endangered species, democracy.
Infrastructure.
Black and indigenous
people of color.
LGBTQIA+ peeps.
Jews. Whoops, guess we
are gonna replace you.
But not until we get a handle
on controlling the weather.
So to making America
great again,
we say, adios because we know
how much you'll hate that.
You know, it turns out,
you can't make something
great again if it wasn't
great to begin with.
When was this "again?" anyway.
Was again when black people
weren't allowed in certain towns
after sundown? - No.
- Was it back in 2002 when
it was still illegal in Texas
to perform and receive anal sex?
Up until the 70s, women couldn't
apply for a bank account
without a man's permission.
Thank you, Justice Ruthie.
Sure, there have been
great things about us:
Of course there have been
great things about us.
Purple mountains majesty.
Um, Costco.
24 hour dry cleaning.
Dolly Parton.
-She's great.
- Gun ranges next
to liquor stores.
-That is a thing.
- But now we've taken
off the red hat,
and it's our job to climb out
from under the rubble,
and the wreckage of
what's left of our country,
and just...
just make America good.
Because we can be good.
Despite what the past four
to 300 years have taught us,
it's not too late. - Yes.
- Maybe this is because
I'm high, I don't know,
but we've gotten
through so much.
And we've gotten through it
with grit and resilience
and porn that's specific
to our needs.
-Hell, yes.
- I know we have it in
us to Make America Good.
- Say it.
- Preach.
-I've seen us be good.
How during this
fucking awful year,
we showed up for each other.
When we marched in
peaceful protest.
When we helped our neighbors.
When we got on our fire escapes
and banged our pots and pans
for the frontline workers
in a collective,
shared primal scream.
-Yeah!
-Because goodness is greatness.
So we'll move on from
the MAGA era stronger.
- Yes.
- And wiser.
-Yes!
- And one step closer
to deleting Facebook.
-Amen.
- Because this is America,
goddamnit.
And are we the
greatest country in the world?
No.
But are we the biggest?
Also no.
But we are the craziest,
and that's not nothing.
-Woo!
- And so I stand before
you today hopeful.
Because when I look out
at this crowd,
I see women in this
room who have made us
feel a little bit better.
And it reminds me,
we're in this together.
- I got your backs,
I got your backs.
I got all your backs. - Wahoo.
-Because...
what was I saying?
- America?
- I was?
Oh, okay.
Well, sayonara 2020.
I hate to see you leave but
I love to watch you go.
-Well, ladies, we did it.
- Woo.
- Yes.
- We have said goodbye
to so much here today.
But as I look around this room,
I don't feel a sense of loss.
2020 tried to break us,
but today,
some of the funniest women
that I know
got the last motherfucking word.
- Woo!
- Yes, Phoene Robinson!
-Here, bitches.
- Yeah!
- Woo!
-So in closing, thank you.
Thank you for helping us
put this year to rest.
I needed it.
And now...
I have prepared one
final in memoriam
to take us out. Microphone?
Thanks.
I don't normally sing, so, uh...
bear with me.
-Um, I can sing.
-Oh, shit.
-It's Christine Aguilera.
-Fuck it, I'm out.
-♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for the memories ♪
♪ I'm so tired
but I can't sleep ♪
♪ Standing on the edge
of something much too deep ♪
♪ It's funny how it
feel so much ♪
♪ But we cannot say a word ♪
♪ We are screaming inside ♪
♪ But we can't be heard ♪
♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for your memories ♪
♪ I will remember you ♪
♪ Will you remember me ♪
- What note can't you hit?
- ♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for the memories ♪
♪ Don't let your life ♪
♪ Pass you by ♪
♪ Weep not for ♪
- Yes, child, yes. Sing it!
-♪ The memories ♪
- Happy New Year,
see you in 2021, boos.
-♪ Lowkey Fuck 2020 ♪
♪ Still sad still ain't
got no money ♪
♪ I ain't got a watch
upon my wrist ♪
♪ I just got some shit
I gotta fix ♪
-Hi, ladies,
you look gorgeous.
Sorry I can't be on
the floor with you.
Where's my eyeline?
Eyelines to the podium.
Feel free to look down,
look around,
like you would anyway.
-2020 was a triflin' ho.
-So true.
-Hold up.
-Nobody's here.
- They will be. In the VFX.
-This is nice.
- ♪ I'm just stating the facts,
this year is just whack ♪
♪ Emotionally
I am lonely and anxious ♪
♪ And mad ♪
- Perfect,
let's get you dancing.
-♪ Lowkey fuck 2020 ♪
- Why am I dancing?
What's the intention?
- Christina Aguilera is
singing "I Will Remember".
-I can give it a try.
My dress is like vinyl, so...
Latex, like, making some noise.
-Fuck pants!
Fuck pants.
- Brown Band-Aids.
End of racism.
Brown... woo!
End of racism.
-Oh, shit.
Oh, shit. Okay.
I can't believe it!