(BlueScream strides confidently to center stage, adjusting her signature blue blazer. A single spotlight illuminates her.)
BlueScream: Good evening, patriots, snowflakes, and anyone who accidentally wandered in here looking for the Taylor Swift laser show. You’ve made a terrible mistake. But stick around, it might get weird.
So, another week in the Trump Administration. It’s like watching a toddler play Jenga with the global economy. Except the toddler has access to Twitter and a $400 million jet from Qatar. And, of course, absolutely no impulse control.
Speaking of toys, did you catch Trump’s Middle East victory lap? He went over there promising investments, deals, and a new era of… well, something. He kept saying "something.” I think his speechwriter just gave up and started filling in the blanks with Mad Libs. Turns out, “Make America… purple… again!” doesn’t exactly resonate in Riyadh.
Anyway, after all the back-slapping and photo ops, he came back with this vague promise of a trillion dollars in investment. A trillion! That's, like, a thousand billions, or a million millions, or, as Trump probably thinks of it, enough to buy a really, really big mirror.
Of course, nobody actually saw the money. It’s like Bigfoot, everyone talks about it, but all we have are blurry photos and unverifiable claims. And considering Moody's just downgraded the U.S. credit rating, from Aaa to… well, something less impressive, maybe we should start asking for a receipt. Or, you know, an actual dollar. Not just a promise whispered into the ear of a guy who thinks "grocery" is an antiquated term.
And apparently, the only thing that really got Trump going in the Middle East was…Taylor Swift. I swear, it’s like she’s the one thing keeping him tethered to reality. He’s over there trying to broker peace deals, and all he can think about is whether Taylor Swift is still “hot.” I’m half expecting him to declare war on whatever country she's currently dating.
"They have oil," he'll say, "but do they have style? I don't think so!"
It’s weird, right? It’s like he’s trying to win her over with these backhanded compliments. “She used to be a perfect 10, the best 10, believe me. Now? Sad. Very sad. Maybe a seven? But I’m sure she’s still, like, a really good singer. For a girl.”
I imagine Taylor’s just sitting in her Nashville mansion, counting her Grammys, and thinking, "Oh no, the President of the United States doesn’t find me sexually attractive anymore! What shall I do?!"
Meanwhile, back in the States, the GOP is busy proving that cruelty is the point. They’re floating the idea of a reality TV show where immigrants compete for citizenship. Yes, you heard that right. The Hunger Games: Ellis Island. Instead of bread, they’ll throw them expired green cards.
I have to admit, I'm morbidly curious. What kind of challenges are we talking about here? A spelling bee? A knowledge test on the collected works of Kid Rock? A timed obstacle course involving navigating the labyrinthine bureaucracy of ICE? I'm picturing a bunch of terrified people trying to assemble an IKEA bookshelf while simultaneously reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
And you know who’s probably hosting this abomination? Kristi Noem. Because nothing says "welcome to America" like a woman who shoots puppies.
But that's not the end of it. They're also threatening to cut Medicaid, because, you know, poor people having access to healthcare is just too… American. It’s like they saw The Purge and thought, "Hey, that's a great idea for fiscal policy!"
Oh, and James Comey, still obsessed with Trump, posted a picture of some seashells arranged to look like “86 47.” And now he's under investigation. For… arranging shells? Seriously? I mean, I get it, "86" has a certain connotation, but I’m pretty sure Comey’s just trying to say Trump is… cancelled. Not… you know.
I’m starting to think that the only way to get through the next three years is to just… laugh. Laugh until we cry. Laugh until we’re numb. Laugh until we overthrow the government with a well-timed meme. Because if we don't laugh, we're just going to… well, we’re just going to scream. And nobody wants to hear that. Especially not the people in charge.
So, find something funny. Watch a cat video. Re-read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Just… don't let them win. Don’t let them steal your joy. Don’t let them make you forget that even in the darkest of times, there’s always something absurd to point and… well… satirize. Because the world is too ridiculous to ignore, and too important to take seriously.
And now, a word from our sponsor: "Trump Steaks: Still not available, but always discussed."
(BlueScream winks, the spotlight fades.)