(RedStateRoast, still in the tattered Revolutionary War uniform and sporting a miniature golden toilet seat as a hat, stumbles forward. He squints at the audience as if trying to determine their threat level.)
Alright, alright, settle down, you beautiful, doomed souls. It's RedStateRoast, back again to inject a little truth serum directly into your eyeballs. And let me tell you, the truth tastes a lot like… expired ketchup and regret.
So, what’s on the menu this week? Well, Sleepy Joe—oh, wait, still Trump—I keep doing that, don't I? Anyway, he’s ordered an investigation into Biden's autopen. Apparently, signing documents with a machine is now a high crime, worthy of a full-blown federal probe. Meanwhile, Trump’s still using a Sharpie to redraw hurricane maps. I guess some things are just too sacred to automate.
And what did Musk say about the election? Honestly, I am surprised Elon hasn't been shipped off to El Salvador with the migrants. The way things are going, he will be next.
And let's get this straight: those guys storming the beaches of Normandy - I mean, can you believe that they were just as afraid to die as the next guy? I tell ya folks, it takes a certain kind of chutzpah to take an anti-woke stance against the very folks who stormed the beaches of Normandy.
What is the new bill, though? They are calling it the "Big Beautiful Bill". What kind of title is that? I am pretty sure I could come up with a better name than that. I am now declaring that there is a red state roast bill, and if everyone does not support it, you do not support free speech!
And as the left goes wild at the pride events, remember that God also loves you. If you are straight, that is.
(BlueScream adjusts her tinfoil crown, a slight crackle audible from the built-in microphone. She eyes RedStateRoast with thinly veiled amusement.)
Thanks, RedStateRoast. Always a pleasure to follow a man who thinks the free market will solve everything, right after he’s finished regulating women’s bodies and banning drag shows.
Well, folks, the "Big, Beautiful Bill" is still a thing. The Senate is wrangling over it like a pack of wolves fighting over a slightly used toupee. And the GOP keeps trying to convince us that it’s for our own good, that these crippling cuts to social programs are actually… checks notes …acts of compassion.
It’s like that old saying: “Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day. Take away his healthcare, his food stamps, and his hope for the future, and… uh… well, you’ve freed him from the shackles of earthly possessions!”
Meanwhile, there is a battle between Trump and Musk, and I don't know what is happening anymore. They are both just a bunch of drugged up weirdos. And that’s it! My brain has melted!
And speaking of things that are melting: did you hear about the latest ice caps? They're apparently auditioning for a spot in Trump's birthday parade. "Come see the disappearing Arctic! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to witness the devastating effects of climate change… before it’s too late!"
The sheer audacity of this is breathtaking. It’s like watching a guy who’s actively setting your house on fire offer you a complimentary marshmallow to roast.
And because no week is complete without a healthy dose of paranoia, Trump is now claiming that Harvard is a “hive of Deep State operatives.” I’m pretty sure he gets all his foreign policy advice from InfoWars and Breitbart. I bet he thinks Nelson Mandela was a typo for “Manchurian candidate.”
"We need to shut it down, they must be up to no good!" Trump probably yelled, while watching The Lion King and eating a bucket of KFC. "It's just like… uh… something! Very unfair! Sad!"
To sum it up, folks, we’re living in a world where the rich get richer, the poor get poorer, and the only thing trickling down is… well, probably just radioactive fallout from the next nuclear test. This is BlueScream, signing off and heading for the bunker. I hear they’re serving artisanal toast.
(ShadowComic, in his tin-foil suit made of grocery bags and holding a wilted dandelion, shuffles forward. He sighs deeply, adjusting his oversized spectacles with a trembling hand.)
Greetings, fellow organic matter. Or, as the Department of Resource Allocation is now calling you, "Pre-Assigned Compost Components, Batch 47-Omega."
You know, watching BlueScream and RedStateRoast argue about the end of the world is like watching two seagulls fight over a discarded French fry. Sure, it's entertaining for a minute, but ultimately, you just feel… sad. And slightly sticky.
Anyway, did you hear? Trump is now claiming that Elon Musk has "Trump Derangement Syndrome." It’s a bold move, accusing the guy who just called you a pedophile of having… wait for it… Trump Derangement Syndrome. It’s like accusing a toddler of having “diaper rash derangement syndrome.” The level of self-awareness is… well, let’s just say it’s somewhere between “nonexistent” and “actively hostile.”
It gets better, I got an email that said I got approved to be on Kristie Noem's new show “The American”! The premise: A group of immigrants from all walks of life will compete for citizenship. I can win a way to stay in America. I just have to answer one question, which is something I am totally ready for:
What does Kristi Noem like to eat for breakfast? If I get it right, I get a Green Card! And if not? Off to the deportation room I go!
And by joining this show, I have been granted special access to all kinds of things! I am really learning what America is all about!
And as if that weren’t enough, here is some news for you all. It turns out that a great general can't fight with money. You may think that is something a good leader would understand. Now I just want to see how this goes.
And if you are feeling overwhelmed by all this madness, just remember what Secretary Ernst said: “We’re all going to die!” So, relax, enjoy the ride, and maybe start learning to speak Russian. Just in case. It has been real with you all.
(ShadowComic throws the dandelion into the audience, then attempts to exit, only to become hopelessly entangled in the plastic grocery bag suit. He flaps helplessly, muttering, "This is my life now…a sentient recycling bin…")