Our Cartoon President (2018–…): Season 3, Episode 6 - The Endorsement - full transcript

Welcome to
tonight's Democratic debate

in Charleston, South Carolina.

Good evening.
I'm Gayle King,

and CBS needs me
more than I need them.

Thanks to my cohost,
Norah O'Donnell,

and the Democratic
candidates.

Tom Steyer, feel free
to take a nap

and I'll tap you on the shoulder
when we're done.

You may all now attempt to
dick-punch a 78-year-old hippy.

Oh, sure, pick on the underdog

with a small lead
in every state.



Vladimir Putin wants Bernie
to win the nomination.

Putin does not want me to win.
Very few people do.

Bernie Sanders is bad,
but Michael Bloomberg is worse.

I mean Bernie!
But then again, Bloomberg!

Aw, dang it, I'm losing
everyone, aren't I?

Yeah, yeah, Bernie bad.

Hey, I'm still winning
this state,

so let's wrap this up
before I get confused

and try to arm-wrestle
the Steadicam, huh?

Okay, I think
we're good here.

For Norah, Gayle,
Harry Reasoner,

and all of us here at
the DuMont network, good night!

We just started, Joe.

Oh, wow! I can't wait to
find out what I'm gonna say!



I've got no money,
I'm hemmorhaging the black vote,

and I've got a letter opener
in my pocket

whittled to a deadly point.

Who wants to take
a goddamn swing?!

Let me be clear...

the only authoritarian I support
is my wife, Jane,

when she forces me to eat
leftovers for dinner

when I was craving Fazoli's.

I should probably
get out of this race

before people realize

I'm a rounding error away
from Ted Kaczynski.

Senator Warren's got me
all wrong.

I have released more women
from non-disclosure agreements

than any candidate
on this stage.

Come on, Joe!
South Carolina is a layup.

Just take the ball, aim, and...

actually, lemme just say one
quick thing about desegregation.

Joe, no, don't do it!

I have to, Joe!

Candidates, please.
One at a time.

Exciting news, everyone.

I'm still viable
because Mike Bloomberg and I

are officially
running mates.

I didn't agree to that.

Not! My! Problem!

Vice President Biden,
put down Tom Steyer.

Come on, man,
gimme your 15%.

Where'd you stash it?
In your socks?

And everyone else, please take
it easy on Senator Sanders.

I defeated my own heart!

I can defeat you bastards!

And that's all the time
we have.

Remember these candidates'
faces,

because after Super Tuesday,
half of them will be mulched.

Can I count on you, letter D,

for a small-dollar donation?
*OUR CARTOON PRESIDENT*

*OUR CARTOON PRESIDENT*
Season 03 Episode 06

Episode Title: "The Endorsement"
Aired on: 03/01/20220

Welcome back to Meet the Press.
I'm Chuck Todd,

and I've never passed
someone walking a dog

without getting tangled up
in the leash.

It's endorsement season,

and with Super Tuesday
around the bend,

every Democratic nominee

is vying for the biggest
endorsement of all.

The endorsement whom of course
I am speaking of about

is, of course, Barack Obama,

the one Democrat so beloved,
his star power

completely overshadows
his civilian kill ratio.

Joining me now
is Obama's self-proclaimed

"Caucasian brother
from another mother"...

oh, I don't like saying that...
Vice President Joe Biden.

Happy to be here, Chuck.

You're so cute, you could be
one of them Gerber babies!

Awww. Don't you think
securing the Obama endorsement

could airlift the fallen tree

pinning your screaming
campaign to the ground?

I'm actually feeling good
about securing the black vote

and the youth vote
on my own.

Remember, kids,
Papa Biden is on your side

as long as you're
willing to work hard

and never receive
anything in return!

Whoa! You're not actively
seeking Obama's endorsement?

Look, look.
Barack Obama's my BFF!

We are Washington's Olsen twins,
joined forever in eternity!

When was the last time
you two spoke?

My birthday maybe?
His birthday?

I sent him
this spooky thing

that I had to send
to 15 people

or a ghost lady would come
out of my closet and stab me.

Hey, when's your birthday,
big guy?

Lemme give you
some birthday spankings!

Uh, we'll be right back!

It doesn't matter
who the lefty losers vote for

on Super Tuesday.

My internal poll numbers show
me winning in every state,

especially the ones
where you have to drive

50 miles to see another person.

- What internal poll?
- Um, hello?!

The internal poll that my staff
reads to me every morning

after they've given me
my flattery enema.

Can we see
the polling data?

Who do you think I am, a guy
who carries around papers?

Alright. I gotta jet
before I accidentally mention

the maxi pad
under my belly paunch

that's slowly becoming saturated
with my oils.

It feels insane to say it,
but Chuck Todd is right.

If you want to limp across
the primary finish line,

you need Obama's endorsement
before Super Tuesday.

Barack will endorse me
on his own time.

Until then, I won't violate
our unspoken friendship code,

which says
that we do not speak.

We just don't want to let the
nomination slip away from you

and into the hands
of some pro-health care,

anti-dying-in-the-street
radical.

Imagine your life if you
don't get the nomination...

no access to the hair,
shoulders, and necks

of unsuspecting women!

- I don't like that one bit!
- And you'll be so bored!

I could lose
my mental acuity!

Welp, better head home
and walk my childhood dog.

Mr. President,
what are you doing down here?

Shouldn't you be up in bed,

staring quietly at the inside
of your eyelids

until it's time
to eat again?

I couldn't "sleep."

I was thinking about
the internal poll.

You mean the really good one
that says

hey, now, you're an all-star,
get your game on, go play?

Some big kids
in the press corps

were talking about it
like it isn't real.

They're just trying to
rile you up, Mr. President.

Of course, the magical poll
that says you're more popular

than the straight boy
at drama camp is real.

Phew! If I wasn't
beating the Democrats,

that would mean
I'd lose re-election.

If I knew I was gonna
lose re-election,

can you imagine
how miserable

I'd make the lives
of everyone around me?

Not even the most godforsaken
soul on Earth

would desire
my staff's hellish fates.

Luckily, according to you,
that would never happen.

Uh-oh.
It's almost sunrise.

If you don't go to bed,

your internal poll numbers
might drop.

- But, but, but...
- Ah! I hear them going down!

I'm going! I'm going!

Don't forget
to brush your teeth

- and wipe your ass!
- No!

Hmm.

Ohh! Huh.
Guess it has been a while.

"Hi, Barack.
Can I get your endorsement?

Hope you forwarded
that ghost thing."

I'm gonna run
for president, huh?

But don't worry.
I'll treat your legacy

with the same care I treat
this fine carpet under my feet.

Ah, crap!
I stepped in shit.

Look, Joe, uh, you don't
have to run for president.

Maybe you should do
something else

like fly-fishing
or meat-curing...

try out for
a men's volleyball team...

Aw, geez, folks, forget it!

Great! Now I gotta sweet-talk

an old lady
into giving me her phone!

I told Trump
I had two hours to live,

and he still wouldn't shut up
about the internal poll.

He needs to know
the truth, Conway!

Relax! He'll forget about it
as soon as he hears

we're having stuffed-crust
crusty-stuff for lunch.

- No, he won't!
- Tell him!

Tell me what?
The internal poll kissed me

gently on the forehead
as I slumbered?

About that... I want you
to hear it from me

because I'm
a straight shooter.

Okay, okay. Shut up,
you pieces of shit!

The thing about the poll
is that it isn't actually real.

It's just something
we tell presidents

to bring joy
to their faces.

So you lied?!

But it has to be real!

If it's not real, that means
I could lose re-election!

And it means that I'm taking
all you rat bastards

down with me!

Um... uh...
Uh, got ya, Mr. President!

Of course, the poll is real!

It was just
a Super Tuesday prank.

Just a prank? Really?
Yes, a prank!

Just as God so loved the world
that he pranked his only son.

I knew it was a prank!

Now tell me everything
about the poll!

Does the poll
sleep in a matchbox

with a button as a pillow?

Is the poll always watching me

even when I spend
six hours a day in the can?

I couldn't
ask him, folks.

I guess I'll just have to win
this whole thing on my own.

What do you think
of this slogan...

"You're Only As Young
As You Feel!"

with a photo of me and a Dallas
Cowboy cheerleader on my lap.

We thought
you might wussy out.

Okay, fine. Two cheerleaders.
My legs can take it.

That's why we brought in
some fellow centrists

who still believe
in your mission

of impassioned
indifference.

You're the only one
who can change things

to the way they are.

The only one who can
champion the belief system

that skyrocketed me
to an historical footnote.

O Biden,
my president.

O Biden, my president.

O Biden, my president!

So what do ya say, Joe?

Will you be the torchbearer
of the status quo?

I'm touched!
I gotta win back

my best friend,
Barack Hassan Obama!

Hey! I saw your little one,
Sabra, at the mall last week.

Man, that girl sure knows
how to tell me

she's not your daughter and
that I've made a huge mistake.

Anyways, I'm running
for president.

Uh, yes, uh,
I got your e-mail,

and I've been
meaning to donate.

No, I get it. You're a busy
Hollywood hotshot now.

I bet you know
all the Impractical Jokers.

But, hey, there's something
I need to ask you.

Uh, look, Joe, I'm not
going to endorse anybody

ahead of the convention,
so if that's why we're here...

What? No.
No, no, of course not!

I just wanted to ask, uh, if
you remember when we first met

back on the Senate Foreign
Relations Committee.

You were eating a ham sandwich,
and I yelled,

"New guy's eatin' a ham
sandwich! Everybody, look!"

Uh, yes, that was quite loud
and embarrassing for me.

Oh, okay.

Uh, well, I need
to get home and prepare

for an important
Obama Foundation fundraiser.

Richard Branson is
auctioning off a jetpack.

Uh, Waiter! Can I get

my unsweetened
dessert almonds to go?

And that's the story
of the internal poll.

Okay. We good?
Aww. Tell me once more.

I'm actually gonna
listen this time.

Ugh. Christ. Okay.

It was the March
before Election Day,

and all through the White House,
everyone was dreaming up ways

to hide polling places
from black people.

Then everyone popped a downer
and passed out at their desks,

as visions of empty
immigration processing centers

danced in their heads.

When all of a sudden,

a big magic, uh, internal poll

landed on the roof.

The internal poll
was named Pollie,

and it was full of polling data

that said things like,
"2020 is in the bag!"

and "The Jews
will not replace us!"

Pollie shimmied off the roof

with the spirit of
63 million screaming lunatics

and landed in the Oval Office...

...where it shared
all its polling data with me.

Well, what
happened next, Mrs. Conway?

Uhh, Pollie went
back to heaven. The end.

Wow!
What a great story!

Guess there's only one thing
left to do now...

Stay up all night
and wait for Pollie!

- Wait. What?
- So I can see it for myself.

That cool? I'm kidding.

I would never ask anyone's
permission to do anything.

Aw, geez!
I biffed it!

My charm only works
on middle-aged women

whose faces I take in both hands
as I ask them how many hearts

they broke on the bus ride in
from Corpus Christi.

Give it another shot.
When can you see Obama again?

He's got a foundation
thing tomorrow,

but he'll probably be surrounded
by all his fancy friends

like Richard Branson and
the guys who invented movies!

I'll probably
just embarrass myself

and tarnish
his legacy forever!

Aw, geez! I biffed it!

We'll help you
un-biff it!

Let's make him
gaffe-proof.

Pretend these are
Barack's hip new friends.

How would you talk to them?

Hey, man,
stop being a tease

and let us see
that gaping eye hole!

Hi. I bet each of your husbands
have a crush on the both of you.

God damn it! You know we need
to raise the minimum wage

when single moms
are forced to wear

their dead husband's clothes!

- What the hell's the matter with you?!
- Jesus, Joe!

Well, what am I
supposed to say?

Talk about the weather!
The Yankees!

How Giuliani is a good guy
if you get to know him!

Banana-flavored candy!
Anything! Who gives a shit?!

Hey, Richard Branson.
You like the weather?

How's about
a banana candy?

Not awful!

I left out all of the internal
poll's favorite things to eat.

Thank God they were
all in your purse...

Max Blast Mascara
in Midnight Black,

a disgusting scrunchie,
and the patent paperwork

for a budget wine
called SlurryGal Cabernet.

Oh, good God.
I'm never lying again.

I'll just camp out at my desk
all night until Pollie shows up.

Can you sing me my favorite
internal poll song again?

Um...

♪ We three polls
of internal polls ♪

♪ Telling me that
I'm cool and not old ♪

♪ Beating the Dems,
doing the thing ♪

♪ It's true
that the poll is real ♪

It never showed.

Now, when I used
Facebook to win in '08,

it was still good.
But now? Bad.

- Barack, c'mon!
- You. This guy. Hilarious.

I'm kidding.
Technology is the future.

I keep getting
logged off my Facebook!

When I try to log back in,
I have to identify

which pictures
have cars in 'em,

but dang it if they don't
all look like cars to me!

Joe!
What are you doing here?

Just wanted to
support your cause.

Now, how about this weather?
It's raining cats and dogs!

- Oooooooo!
- That's some snappy chit-chat.

Uh, yes, that is an
appropriate thing to say.

Hey, did you know they eat
cats and dogs in China?!

It's messed,
but that's their culture!

There you go.
Best seat in the house.

But all your other friends
are seated up front!

I can't tell the deejay
to play rock-and-roll songs

from way back here!

Oh, and if anyone asks,
please refer to me

as your former
coworker, okay?

Cool? Got it? Thanks.

I'm biffin' it!
Damn it!

Pollie never showed up

because you weren't looking
in the right place!

Okay, I am a grown man, and the
President of the United States.

I will not
be made a fool of!

Pollie's footsteps!
Over there in the dirt!

Where?! Where?! Where?! Oh, my
God! I'm peeing! I'm peeing!

See, Mr. President?
Pollie was here!

Thank God! I was starting
to get embarrassed for you.

Remember, Mitch...
two Supreme Court justices.

Remember, you have to

keep Pollie secret,
because if you don't...

I know, I know.
I'll turn into jelly.

Don't worry! I would
never do that to Pollie.

I have a little crush
on Pollie.

Alright! Stupid mission
accomplished!

Uh, you must be from
the Nevada Chamber of Commerce?

Well, I just wanted to discuss
the aim of the Obama Foundation,

uh, which is, uh, you know,
to turn the youth of today,

uh, into the citizens
of the world tomorrow.

- What?
- L-Let me start over.

I think I could have used
some more precise adverbs.

Aw, geez!
Barack's biffin' it!

Uh, so, in "Settlers of Catan,"
each player has a resource...

brick, wool, grain.

Hey, Buster! Nice hat! You
hold up a rodeo this morning?

Very funny, young man!

What my buddy Barack's
trying to say is

shell out, and
you'll make a buncha kids

happier than the first time
they saw Wonder Woman

snap her big ol' whip!

Ha! Now, this guy I understand,
because he looks like me

and says things
I might say.

I'd like to write you
a check for $40,000.

Listen, Maggie Haberman.

My internal poll shows me
beating Biden and Warren

by double-digit margins
in every swing state.

as soon as we can.

Great. And get this...

My internal poll...
Sorry. Pollie...

ate all the mascara
I left out

and half
the disgusting scrunchie.

Maggie? You there?

Oh, I'm here.
Just... taking notes.

Don't! Kellyanne said we have to
keep Pollie's existence secret,

or its magic will disappear
and I'll turn into jelly.

Do I have your word?

- Yes, Mr. President.
- Good!

Now, which one of
my Rust Belt racists

is getting a sympathetic profile
in Sunday's magazine?

I forgot what a great
schmoozer you are

when it comes to a particularly
pigmented type of everyman.

I got a way with whites!
Uh, so, uh...

no one bid
on Branson's jetpack

after they found out
he wore it nude.

- You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?
- Hell yeah!

Whoo!
I feel like a drone!

Yup! And you just
violated my airspace!

Aw! Crap!

Aw, geez!
That was fun!

I got old pennies
in every crevice!

I've enjoyed spending one-on-one
time with you tonight.

Usually, I'm more of
a one-on-50,000 type.

We're opposites, huh?

You're a locked diary
full of smart crap,

and I'm an open book that's the
same length as the yellow pages

and makes just as much
narrative sense.

Hmm. Maybe a candidate
like you

is just what this quirky,
mixed-up, ungrateful,

backwards country needs.

Joe, I want to

endorse you for...

- Best friend?
- ..President of the United States!

Aw, shit.
I-I mean, thanks.

Yeah, that...
that's what I wanted.

Now that that's settled,
I should get back to Michelle.

She's been holding plank
position since I left her.

I'll be home in 20.

Just keep your core
rock-solid until then.

Hey, what if we kept
hanging out?

I know a place that does
indoor skydiving!

My cousin Ron-Jon said
if you do it right,

you can spit
in your own face.

Joe, you got
my endorsement.

Can I at least
get a ride?

We could stick our heads
out the window!

You have your own car
right there.

Aw, come on!
Yours is warmer!

♪ For she's a jolly good liar ♪

♪ Which nobody can deny! ♪

This one almost killed me,
but I pulled it off.

Let's pop the top
on a bottle of SlurryGal!

- The master at work!
- Oh, you are good!

Kellyanne! What the hell

is Anderson Cooper
talking about?!

Ugh! Drink it without me.
That stuff doesn't keep.

As if things couldn't get

any more embarrassing
for the President,

who recently tweeted at

deceased dictator
Augusto Pinochet

wishing him
a "blessed Thanksgiving,"

the Times is reporting
that President Trump

believes in fairy tales
and magic.

I'm the laughingstock
of the make-believe community!

This is further proof
that the President

is a big dumb baby
who believes in the Tooth Fairy

and wee-wees his wittle diaper.

My diaper is not wittle!

Trust me...
there are no complaints.

Right, Kellyanne?
Big diaper?

What did Pollie say
about my diaper?

Aaaaaah!
Kellyanne? Pollie loves me.

- Right?
- Enough!

There is no internal poll!
There is no Pollie!

Get it through
your big fat baby brain!

You lied to me!
How could you?

Job security?
That's it...

I'm running away to
the wrong side of the tracks,

but I don't want
to leave this room,

so this is now
the wrong side of the tracks.

Do not come
looking for me!

Alright.
It's Barack! Very cool.

Welcome back to Netflix.
Whaddaya got for us?

It's called
Separated at Bark.

It's me, a litter
of Goldendoodles,

and some questions about
nature versus nurture.

Hey, I got a pitch!

It's called Betrayal!
Ooh, great title.

It's about a guy who thought
he and another guy were friends.

But then the second guy
didn't want to hang out

with the first guy
anymore!

But the second guy gave
the first guy what he wanted,

even though the first guy
spent the last decade

reveling in the collective
goodwill of the second guy.

These guys are...
also Goldendoodles?

They're president
and vice president.

Let's get Robert Duvall
for the president!

Ooh! And let's have him play
the vice president, too!

Like an
Eddie Murphy-type thing!

You mean Mike Myers?

Eddie did it first!

This is fun, right?!
It's like you're a drone!

Are you working through
something, Mr. Vice President?

Speaking of, could I maybe
be your vice president?

Airspace violation!

Now you drone me!
It's fun! See?!

My idea of fun is lifting up
the American people.

That no matter our differences,
we are all one nation...

Geez, folks!
This guy sucks!

♪ No more shared ice creams ♪

♪ With Barack Hassan ♪

♪ The magic of friendship ♪

♪ Is gone ♪

♪ My hundred and four percent ♪

♪ Approval ratings ♪

♪ Were second to none ♪

♪ But the magic of Pollie ♪

♪ Is gone ♪

♪ Friendship ♪

♪ Pollie ♪

♪ The magic is ♪

♪ Gone ♪

Ugh.
Barack. Couch.

TV. Room.

C'mon! Let's go show Barack
that I don't need him anymore!

Hey! Oh, hey, Michelle.
Is Barack home?

I wanted to show him
my new best friend,

Beto something-or-other.

I'll see if I can
pry him off the couch.

He's on hour six of The
Great British Baking Show.

Chocolate ganache?

In this heat?
You gotta be kiddin' me.

Who's he watching with?
Richard Branson?

Richard's just
a vacation friend.

Barack really doesn't have
any other friends besides me.

I almost wish he'd
start smoking again

so he could hang out with one of
the neighbors on the sidewalk.

Michelle!
Who's at the door?!

Is that my tom yum soup?!
Do you want to come in?

Please! I have
so much to learn.

Nah. That's okay.

Aw, geez.
Poor Barack Obama.

No friends, eating
made-up fantasy soup.

Uh, we should go.
Come on, Beto.

I'll drop you off
at the skatepark

with the rest
of the middle-school teachers.

So you guys know, like,
the internal poll isn't real?

It's something
a bunch of boomers

made up to conform us
or whatever.

But why would Mrs. Conway

lie to you like that?!

That is so messed up!

If this poll isn't real,
then what else isn't real?!

I know.

It's making me question
a lot of things lately.

I mean, what even is
an approval rating?

Maybe the immigrants
are the good guys.

Dad, you're scaring me!

Mr. President!

I'm sorry!
Or whatever people say!

Go away!
I'm talking to my friends!

I'm probably
not even gonna celebrate

Election Day this year.

♪ The magic is gone ♪

What kind of
White House advisor

can't convince a speed freak
with holes in his brain

that an anthropomorphic
internal poll exists?

Idea!

"Dear Mr. President,

I just got to hold
my newborn son in my arms,

and that experience was dogshit

compared to the experience
of voting for you.

Love always, Blaise Furtasch.

Age... I don't know... 62."

"No quid pro quo!"

"I actually really like
that you harassed

all 25 of those women."

"Wow! You're so tall!"

"I love the way
your shirt tails

stick out of the bottom
of your pants."

"I'm not afraid to be racist
to my coworkers anymore."

♪

The President...
total exoneration...

could beat
any baby at basketball.

It's me, Cuomo Prime Time!

Joe Biden and his guy Barack
are on a one-way rocket ride

to Toiletsville.
See for yourself.

- Mr. Vice President!
- Excuse me! Sir!

Turns out, Barack and I aren't
friends anymore. Geez.

Anyways, I'm not gonna
bother him for his endorsement,

so vote for me purely for
my supreme mental agility.

Anybody else hear my mom
calling me home for dinner?!

Looks like he doesn't need me
anymore. I'm honestly relieved.

Now it's just you, me,

and this Death Star
Lego set

I thought we could
meticulously assemble.

Actually, Valerie Jarrett and I
have tickets to Magic Mike Live.

- Can I tag along?
- No.

I'll just go get some
ice cream. By myself.

New guy's
eatin' a ham sandwich!

I feel like a drone!

I'm gonna run
for president, huh?

In other news,
CNN just released a poll

showing the President's approval
rating at an all-time suck.

Only way to cheer up from that?

Boom... new couch.

"All-time suck"?! Ugh!

Am I gonna lose
the job I hate?

Kellyanne! Kellyanne!
Come quick!

It's a polling miracle!

- Over here!
- Mr. President! Mr. President!

A lot of people have been saying
that I believe in magic,

that I once beefed so hard
in an elevator

that the sprinklers went off,
that I believe in fairy tales.

I'm here to tell you
that my internal poll is real,

and it says that
I'm more popular than ever!

- Here it is!
- Whaaah?

Some people have
internal polls inside them

called self-worth
or some stupid bullshit.

But I don't need that,
because I have my internal poll

to tell me why I am good.

Oh, wow! It's me!

Who's your internal poll,
Jim Acosta?

My friend Louis. He always
compliments my ties

even when I know
they're bad.

Okay. Shut up.
Back to me.

You see, the people
in our lives that lie to us

in exchange for money,
power, and airtime,

they're the real internal polls.

And to me, that's magic.

Right,
but the latest

Quinnipiac poll
shows you losing in...

Okay, get the fuck
out of my house.

Kellyanne!
Get 'em out!

The White House is currently
being engulfed in flames.

Please exit immediately,
or you will be arrested

for aiding and abetting
a fire!

So this Super Tuesday,

let's think about
all the great stuff I did

before I ever worked
for Barack Obama.

Hey, did I ever tell you
about my other best friend?

A nice fella
named Strom Thurmond!

Joe. Stop.

Barack!
What are you doin' here?

I thought you'd
given up on me!

I was eating ice cream alone,
when I spilled

a big glob of vanilla bean
on my running tights.

What a dweeb!
Sorry. Go on.

And it made me realize
that I want to tell

these fine people about
the Joe Biden I know,

the Joe Biden who slapped me
so hard on the ass

after we passed Obamacare,
my stool was red for a week.

Uh, and the guy who rubbed
enough crusty old elbows

to help me pass Obamacare
in the first place,

may it rest in peace.

So, as a tribute to my closest
personal work friend,

I'd like to endorse Joe Biden
for Vice President

from 2008 to 2016!

Thanks, folks!

And thank you, Barack,
for once again letting me

clamp down on your coattails
with my big fake horse teeth!

Hey, Mr. President.

Thanks for not firing
my mean ass.

Eh. Don't worry about it.
You'll get me back whenever.

Okay, Mr. President, it's time
for your flattery enema!

Open wide!
We'll do two tomorrow.

Right now we gotta find
that internal poll!

You get the flashlight.
I'll get the stun gun.

Wait. What the fuck?! What about
all that stuff you just said?

I was getting the press
off our tail.

♪ Ohhhh, Polllliiieee ♪

♪ Where are you? ♪

I have enough for a book.

I don't know why the fuck
I'm still here.

♪ Donald Trump
is the president ♪

♪ Donald Trump
is the president ♪

♪ Is Donald Trump
the president? ♪

♪ Yes, he is ♪

♪ Yes, he is,
we elected him president ♪

♪ Is Donald Trump
the president? ♪

♪ Yes, he is ♪

♪ We had a vote
and elected him president ♪

♪ Donald Trump
is the president ♪

♪ Donald Trump ♪

♪ He is our president ♪

♪ We made him president ♪

♪ We did it ♪

♪ Donald Trump
is the president ♪

♪ We elected Donald Trump ♪

♪ Donald Trump
is the president ♪

♪ Donald Trump
is the president ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

Trump!