Our Cartoon President (2018–…): Season 3, Episode 8 - G-7 - full transcript

After the G-7 nations make Cartoon Trump feel like a loser, he decides to start his own international alliance for cool dictators including Cartoons Putin, Turkey's Erdogan, and Saudi Arabia's Mohammad bin Salman.

- 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...

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!