Our Cartoon President (2018–…): Season 3, Episode 9 - Secret Money - full transcript

Malarkey!

And when asked

about the coronavirus outbreak in China,

the president said, "Never heard of her"

- then used Mike Pompeo's tie as a hankie.
- _

- In other news, Senator Elizabeth Warren
- _

continues to climb in the polls,

securing her place as
an unassailable front runner

for the Democratic nomination.

And, Liz, from one
popular kid to another,

get ready for all your
dreams to come true.



Danielle from Milwaukee,
it's Elizabeth Warren.

I just want to thank you for donating $5

and an undercooked apple strudel.

We were actually
hoping you might be able

to scrape up a few more coins.

Oh you actually need that money back?

And the pie? I am so sorry
that you got laid off.

I'm still doing way too well, huh!

As long you talk about "healing
the nation" or some crap

and don't mention that six
people have all the money,

Wall Street'll paint you in gold

like James Bond's girlfriend.

You know that actress was
allergic to gold paint

and died? No joke!



Folks, you gotta donate to Trump 2020.

A billion dollars might buy an election,

but it's not enough to pay my attorneys,

and I can't be president if I'm in jail!

So take out a second
mortgage, steal from church,

let your wife spend one
night with her rich boss,

because my lawyer's lawyer needs
to make it look like he died.

- Trump! Trump! Trump!
- Whoo! I don't need insulin this month!

Sir, good news and bad
news. The good news is

you've just been named Big
Man On Campus at Arizona State.

That's what this job's all about.

And the bad news is your
campaign is less of a campaign

and more of a lawyer welfare
scheme that's hemorrhaging cash.

I can't help that my
lawyers bill me by the hour

and that I spend every
waking hour with my lawyers.

If we need funds, there's
an untapped gold mine

of billionaires who own
untapped gold mines.

But we have to go
West, to Silicon Valley.

Aah! That's not a plan, Parscale.

It's suicide.

California hates my guts.

They refuse to meet me
halfway on ethnic cleansing.

But we have no other options!

The President is right!

California is hell, and I'd know.

Ugh. Childhood trauma time.

I'm gonna dick around on my
phone until he cries funny.

The year was 2002.

I'd just started Santa Monica High,

and I'd never felt more alone.

The kids called me names
like "Mr. Intolerant"

and "The Guy Reading Mein Kampf."

The prom theme was "your
genitals, your choice",

and our mascot was Norman Lear.

Make it stop! I'll get
the money anywhere else!

You can't make me go to
California, you hear me?

Never!

I'm gonna give him a head start

so he thinks we had to
try hard to catch up.

I repeat, everything I say at this lunch

is off the record. Got
it? Good. Want a Frito?

I'm good. You've been licking
your fingers this entire meal.

Bernie, do you think it would be immoral

to take money from shadowy Super PACs,

even if I really, really need it?

- Yeah, sure!
- But Obama did it,

and it made him president.

Oh, Barack Obama, the
gold standard of men,

our lord and savior! Baloney!

Is there no issue you
can be chill about?

One day, it's a couple
bucks from Wall Street.

The next, you're being
wined and dined by oil barons

over an opulent lunch at Panera Bread.

You're right. As a lifelong Democrat

of the last eight years, I
must stand by my principles.

Oh, suddenly she's got principles.

And because I wouldn't dare

step foot in California,

I need you buff heroes

to invest an extra $10 million

in the deep-fried, all-beef
bullet train that is Trump 2020.

What do you say, Sheldon
Adelson and Wayne LaPierre?

_

_

And I spent the last of the NRA's money

buying a second private jet

so my first private jet
had another jet to talk to.

But I do everything you
ask. I say nothing about guns

and way too much about Jewish people.

_

Please! I can only introduce
Giuliani to so many loose women

with huge melons and smoker's lung

before he starts to demand cash.

Bernie's right. If I take
money from Wall Street,

I won't be able to look at
myself in the rearview mirror

I'm constantly judging
the drivers behind me in.

Good for you, honey. As history's shown,

the most honorable
candidate always wins.

Wowza, that's a spicy fundraising total.

Just kidding, but really,
Bernie Sanders once again

broke his own quarterly
fundraising record.

Mama Mia, here he goes again?

Again, just kidding. Sorry.

That's so unfair.

Bernie gets to sit on
his high, bedraggled horse

when he never even has
to worry about money.

Sure, he has money, but is he happy?

Enough's enough. I'm not
going to lose this election

just to maintain my
hot husband's respect.

Barack, it's Lizzy Warren.

We're going to Wall Street.

Sorry, I forgot I have to go through

like six assistants to talk to him.

It looks so beautiful from up above

when you can't see the Mexicans.

I can still make 'em out.

Ronald Reagan? You're my
favorite president, I'm told.

From one punch-line fear monger

turned dementia-riddled
president to another,

California's nothing to fear.

There are just as many racists

and depraved wealthy
elites in that state.

How else would I have
gotten elected governor

and married ingenue Nancy Reagan,

the sauciest little minx
this side of Laurel Canyon?

But my supporters can't
see me with Californians.

They have high standards.

Anything less than rolling
around like a demented pig,

and they'll leave me.

Just get in and get out undetected,

which coincidentally is what a
certain pencil-skirted wildcat

used to yell in my face when
we snuck into a closet and...

- La, la, la! Okay, okay.
- Oh, boy.

- Enough! I'll go to California.
- Oh, that was really fun stuff.

Stevie, thanks for coming
with us to California

even though you have a
wife, and if she looks

at literally any other
man, you're donezo.

Here's the plan... We're going
to drop into Silicon Valley,

suck up their tech bucks, and
get out before they realize

we've clogged all 70 toilets
in their mega-mansion.

The fundraiser will be attended

by these three men of
increasingly small genitalia.

Elon Musk.

Mark Zuckerberg.

And Jeff Bezos.

Knew it. Gentlemen,
make your peace with God.

The mission... Operation Take
The Money From The Money People

And Then We'll Be The
Ones Who Have The Money.

We're crossing into
Silicon Valley airspace.

Brace yourselves! There
are In-N-Out worshipping,

Ayahuasca-slurping
pansexuals everywhere.

Give me strength, dear God
I only acknowledge on camera.

Welcome to Hell.

Thanks for introducing me to
your rich devil friends, Barack.

I just need a couple
bucks to get through

the all-important Kansas
and Guam primaries,

and then I'm out of the
game. Who's the mark?

Bloomberg. $52 billion. Good guy.

Bloomberg? But he's
a Wall Street fat cat

who sprays his dirty money
all over Washington...

Oh, right, that's why I'm here.

Just be calm and show
them you can blend in.

Alright, you rich bastards!

It's your worst nightmare,
Elizabeth Frickin' Warren.

If this goes South, tell
everyone at Arizona State

I bled maroon and gold
until my final breath.

- Welcome!
- Welcome!

Quick, use Pompeo as a human shield!

It's what he would've wanted!

Now that you've Netflix
and chilled the "F" out,

we're TBH hyped to have you
at my Earth headquarters.

Really? I thought you guys
wanted to tie my limbs

to four Cybertrucks and floor
them in different directions.

We're not really political.

In fact, some might say
we're dangerously apolitical.

We're more focused on
making the voters' will

as obsolete as the floppy disk

or the employee bathroom break.

We billionaires have to stick together.

Scary times, bruh.

Bruh?

Now that we swept up all that glass,

Liz, you know Michael.

Yes, sorry, it's just

billionaires make me
uncharacteristically shaky.

Then don't think of me as a billionaire.

Think of me as a loving father

to 52 billion single dollar bills.

Sure, whatever. Look, I know
we're technically opponents,

- but I'm looking to raise...
- Say no more, Elizabeth.

If I can't win this
race, the least I can do

is use my money to turn you into me.

How much do you need?

Just enough to rent a
campaign bus for Kansas.

Oh, and maybe a driver

so I don't have to rehearse
my speeches while navigating.

Don't be silly. You're taking
my private jet for the weekend.

Now, while you're feeling generous,

it's called Obama-flix Plus,

premium content for
a discerning audience.

"If you can dream it,
you can stream it."

For the last time, Barack, it's a pass.

So I guess you don't
like money. Okay, got it.

Let's get the donations and scram.

The sealant I had my
wife put on her eyelids

so she doesn't see other
men only lasts so long.

Not sure if you've noticed,

but I'm not in the "other
people's concerns" game.

Who knew we had so much in common?

Hey, do you also sidestep labor
laws to increase profit margins?

Totally yeet. Have you also called

a diver rescuing a soccer team
of little boys a pedophile?

No, but I tweeted that
Jane Goodall was a pedophile

after she passive-aggressively
praised democracy

in a UN Speech.

Gucci. Hey, FYPS,

you might wanna check
your super PAC's Venmo.

$14 million?

So you can run those ads

of Ilhan Omar giving her normal speeches

but with scary music underneath.

Oh! Maybe we can make an app
to help you solicit donations.

Friends help each other,
according to my friend data.

Miller, you know that secret
friendship song we always sing?

Teach it to them, and then forget it.

I was just in Guam earlier
today, but now I'm here...

totally rested and
refreshed, without the stress

of going through
regular airport security.

- Warren! Warren! Warren!
- Warren! Warren! Warren!

I'm usually famished post-rally,
but on the private plane,

the flight attendant just
read my body language

and brought me scrambled eggs.

At this rate, I might lose
my stress-induced facial ticks

and actually win this thing.

I don't know, honey. Isn't
it wrong to take big money?

But think of all the good
I'll do as president.

My plans are so solid,

Senator McConnell will
have to get onboard.

You're right. That man is powerless

before a well-reasoned argument.

Bloomberg, baby doll,

Lizzy's open for business.

I've been spending time

with everyday, hard-working Americans,

like farmers and other simpletons.

But you know who else works hard?

Hedge fund managers and
high-frequency traders.

So I say we raise up the 99%

while making sure the 1% feels included.

Because 99 plus 1 equals 100.

We want Trump! We want Trump!

Facebook, Google, Twitter,

and now... GRIFTYR.

Here to welcome you
aboard this movement,

creator and chief-technology-officer,
Don Trump.

A couple of days ago, someone
came up to me and said,

"Don, I wish there was a convenient way

to support your legal defense
fund, an app, something."

That night, I was
tinkering in my garage,

with the old IBM my daddy
and I built together,

when it came to me... GRIFTYR.

GRIFTYR is the convenient new app

that allows users to conveniently donate

to Don Trump's legal
defense fund conveniently.

With a $30 million

Silicon Valley venture
capital cash infusion,

GRIFTYR cannot fail.

Thank you, thank you.
Together, we will change

the amount of money in my bank account.

Thanks for letting me
borrow these clothes.

I've never worn denim.
It's almost as comfortable

as my usual huge, floppy
businessman's gown.

Hella good news, Mr. Trump,

GRIFTYR was downloaded 5
million times in the first day.

And because none of the users

even looked at the terms and conditions,

we are legally their next-of-kin.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Nice presentation, Donald!

I can't believe you'd rather hang out

with the richest men
in the world than me,

a 34-year-old in an
ageless goblin's body.

What next... you gonna start
anally absorbing nutrient paste?

Guys, he still absorbs
his nutrient paste orally.

Savage.

- Let's go, cool friends.
- Yes, let's continue

to experience each other
socially somewhere else.

I'm hoping you two
can finally bury the hatchet.

You've sat across from
each other for 20 minutes,

and you haven't said a word.

You're both independents...
You can talk about that!

You know, Bernie, if I roll
around in my sleep enough,

my shirt also gets untucked.

I take it back... This is
not worth the free jambalaya.

I know he'll never replace
a small dollar donor,

but he can take care of my campaign,

and yours, too, if you'll let him.

What do you say, champ?

He cares about the environment,
about gun control...

He cares about Wall Street!!

I am pouring my soup in my pockets

and leaving with my dignity.

Silicon Valley is so great,

I'm thinking of buying some land

and moving my latest
wife and TVs out here.

Actually, it might be time you make like

a warehouse-employee-
on-an-18-hour-shift's bowels

- and evacuate.
- We have to get going

to a global tech conference

for the world's biggest billionaires.

You mind leaving wearing
an Ariana Grande mask

so Grimes can get really jealous?

But then no one will see my face

and know that we're best friends.

- Ooh.
- Ohh, wow. Such cringe.

You didn't know what this was.

Okay, we all put a lot into
appearing like liberal heroes

while secretly puppeteering democracy.

Just because we believe the same things

doesn't mean we can hang out.

Right. Totally.

I just thought you were obsessed with me

because you gave me all those donations.

Oh, that? That's just the amount
of money we collectively make

from now to... now.

For sure. Yeah, no, no.

I don't want to be seen
with you, either. Gross.

Glad we're on the same page.

Definitely on the same page

because I find you guys embarrassing.

- Yep, same here.
- Cool.

So I guess I'll not go hang out

with the richest and most
powerful people in history.

Sounds good. So I'm just gonna go ahead

and put this on... and off you go.

Amazon Prime back to your
cute, little White House.

Hey, hey! If you're so perfect,

why didn't you remember
to line your pockets

with heat-resistant plastic?

Uh, duh, because single-use
plastics are the devil's milk!

And I'd rather burn my upper thigh

than be some kind of
electable capitalist.

How dare you call me "electable."

You know my plans are just
as pie-in-the-sky as yours.

My plans have zero chance
of getting through Congress,

and you know it! We are through!

If you'll excuse me, I have
to find my campaign bus,

which is just an old Volvo

with the windows duct-taped shut.

I smell stuffed crust, so
Pompeo must be nearby.

This place sucks. Let's get out of here.

Oh, did your best
friends run out on you?

Well, maybe you can launch
a new app called... RUNOUTRR,

for presidents who
have been run out upon!

If you must know,
they did run out on me.

Maybe you should launch
an app called Miller-r

for predicting when
presidents get run out upon.

- You still have me, sir.
- Jesus, Pompeo,

your breath smells
like boiled sauerkraut.

Let's just go back to
Washington and forget

that your only friends
now are Russian spies

with discount hair plugs.

I'm going back to Washington.

As punishment for not
protecting me from my feelings,

you're staying in
this sun-kissed hellhole.

You can't leave me here.

This is where my loving parents live!

It's not fair!

I never said it was fair.

I said it was California.

What does that even mean?

Not sure. Sounded right.

With the help of GRIFTYR,
we now have enough cash

to keep you out of prison

and forever imprisoned
in the White House.

Not Silicon Valley cool,

but I guess there's
something to being president.

President is the most
powerful position on earth.

No, it's not, Parscale!

You're thinking of tech billionaires.

They wear sunglasses.

They live in California.

- Heard of it?
- Yes, I've heard of California.

I'll go back to my president
job which devil freak here says

is "the most important
job in the world."

"Look at me... I'm starting
a nuclear holocaust,

like a government cog
in the freaking machine."

Who gives a shit?!

Actually, I'm embarrassed by you guys.

Don't blow up all that
money, Mister Trump.

Those billionaires
are kidding themselves.

They may praise social
responsibility, but deep down,

they're money-hoarding
capitalists like you and me.

Then why are they so embarrassed by me?

I could get any chick at Arizona State.

Because it makes them feel good

to fancy themselves as beyond you.

That's why you need to
expose them for who they are.

But what if everyone laughs at me?

Everyone laughed at me when I said

we should give money and
weapons to Osama Bin Laden,

but my nurses hid the newspapers
and assured me I was right.

I'm starting to realize why,

of Nancy's thousands of
boyfriends, she chose you.

Speaking of, direct that
missile to Clark Gable's estate.

I caught him flirting with the missus.

The whole point is,
O-Flix-P is not for everyone,

and that's what makes it special.

Something wrong, Lizzy?

You've barely touched
your $800 salmon lump.

I thought I'd always do the right thing,

but now I'm not so sure,
and I'm usually pretty vocal

about how sure I am about things.

Just remember, it's what
you do in the brief window

before being corrupted by wealth, power,

and the allure of
premium-content media moguldom

- that matters.
- Thanks, Barack,

and Obama-flix Plus
sounds like a great idea.

Uh, yeah. Of fucking course it does.

Bloomberg says

to get to his place right away.

I think it might be a buy this time.

Eeeeeee.

I said get back,

you compassion-ists! Off
my parents' gorgeous lawn...

- Oh. Hello, Don.
- Don's dead.

Miller, I'm sorry I chose
the billionaires over you.

I realize that, while they are
cooler than you in every way,

you're probably more racist.

And that's what really matters.

Stevie! Invite in your friend.

- Shut the hell up, Dad!
- Will do, sweetie!

Do you see what you've left me with?

They've been shoving ice
water and warm blankets

in my face all week.

Stick with me, and you
will never be welcome

in your parents' home again.

Dad and Mother, stop
reheating the chicken piccata

I threw at the wall last night.

My real dad is taking me home.

Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!

Sorry, my natural excretions

left an oil slick in your pool.

Quite a turn out for...

what is this, exactly?

We've all been very proud
of your progress, Elizabeth.

There's just one more small
sacrifice we need from you.

A 2% wealth tax is a starting offer.

We all know it's going
to end up at 0.75%.

It will end at zero, or I burn
this country to the ground.

Also, we're ever so
slightly more worried

about Bernie's campaign

to install a dystopian socialist state.

Luckily, we're spreading
a scintillating rumor

that Bernie performed
a bawdy folk music set

at Prince Andrew's birthday
party on Epstein's island.

That's insane... No one
would ever believe that.

Get to the part where you
go all-in on Obama-Flix-Plus!

Ugh. They'll believe it if
you hold a press conference

outside his rally
tonight saying it's true.

And this shocking, aorta-bursting rumor

will get you elected
president by killing...

- Bernie?
- ... Bernie's campaign, silly.

Your private jet is
idling on Fifth Avenue.

How are we going to get past

Worldcon Tech Leadercon security?

I know how to communicate
with these people.

I spent two days
seething behind Elon Musk,

and I gathered his speech
patterns from observance.

TBH, the tea slaps and
is looking like a snarcc.

It must be lit in there,
my VSCO girls and e-boys.

This whole me going
inside thing is a mood.

Deadass. You kings
are going off right now

and looking so fleekly epic.

So wrong answers only,
who is screaming right now

and you simply love to see it?

- What?
- Wait, you're Stephen Miller,

and I have a conscience.

- Let's kick his ass.
- Yeah!

Run, sir!

Yeah! This is where

my Joker tale begins!

And that's when we realized we
could colonize other planets.

- Oooooh.
- It's just from movies,

you unoriginal bastards!

And if you divide 1% by 1%

and multiply that by 1%...

If you just do what Bloomberg asks,

you'll get elected president,

and then you can do so much good.

I just hoped I could change things.

Hope and change? Where
do I know that from?

Is that the name of a
Jane Seymour Quibi vehicle?

Don't you get it, you beautiful doof?

I'm still you in 2008...
naive, in over my head,

and running an inspiring campaign.

I can't be like you in
2020... wise and realistic.

The numerator... You following along?...

Stop this rally!

Elizabeth, what are you doing here?

Come to throw fancy
weighted credit cards at me

like ninja stars?

- Warren, you sellout!
- Boo!

Listen! When Wall Street
asked me to use a lie

so vicious it would destroy
Bernie's campaign...

and maybe even his heart...
I thought to myself,

"This isn't why I got into politics."

Bup-bup-bup-bup-bup-bup.
What was that about my heart?

Just a sec. I realized

being corrupted by
secret money is a choice,

and it's up to people who
have a shred of integrity to...

Wait, you were going to
try and kill Bernie Sanders?

That's not the point of the story.

The point is, money is power...

We should call the police.

And we will. Just let
me say this one thing.

The only way Democrats
will win the White House

is by sticking to our guns

and refusing to take Wall Street money

until the general election!

She's no Danny DeVito,
but she's my friend.

It's great to have you back, Liz.

Yeah, hi, 911? This twitchy lady

just tried to kill Bernie Sanders.

Mr. President, who all of us are
just meeting for the first time,

- what are you doing here?
- We didn't just meet.

We hung out for days.
You funded my campaign.

You even said I was
the most jacked specimen

you'd ever seen complete
four flips on a BMX bike.

Uh-huh. I can't even.

You shouldn't be ashamed of
me because you are me...

friggin' in love with money.
The only difference is

I don't try to convince
the world otherwise

by throwing even a dime to charity.

Heezy's right.

My name is Elon Musk. I'm a billionaire.

My name is Jeff Bezos.
I'm a billionaire.

My name is Mark Zuckerberg.
I'm a billionaire.

My name is Donald Trump,
and don't look into it,

but I'm a billionaire.

Billionaires around the world unite!

♪ We are billionaires ♪

♪ The 0.01% ♪

♪ No more hiding in the shadows ♪

♪ Of our shadow governments ♪

♪ While our politics are different ♪

♪ Our off-shore bank
accounts are the same ♪

♪ So let's treat the world economy ♪

- ♪ The world economy ♪
- ♪ Like it's one big poker game ♪

♪ Like it's one big poker game ♪

- ♪ We are billionaires ♪
- ♪ Billionaires ♪

♪ The great-grandchildren
of billionaires ♪

♪ Let's stand proud and try our best ♪

♪ To lower the minimum wage ♪

Wow, is there anything we can't do?

Hey, who's gonna stop us?

See you guys in our garish
bunkers at the end of the world.

I'll bring the colon paste.

Actually, I'll be on Mars.

But... cool.

Pass the Fritos, Liz!

You got it, Bernie.

I'm so glad to be away
from Bloomberg's sky palace

and back in this drafty
office where I belong.

I'm sorry my supporters
chased you through the streets.

Nice guys, but a little intense.

Yeah, my small-dollar donors
aren't too bad, either.

I will say, though, Bloomberg made

some pretty persuasive arguments

for gutting Medicare For All.

Good luck with that.

Trump!