“To start with, we all know this film has the superior romantic subplot of all Star Wars films. What I see when I watch Attack of the Clones is a precocious teenage boy pursuing an older woman and winning her over, largely against her wishes and her better judgment. That looks like true love to me.”
“Now look, don’t misunderstand me, I’m nothing like Trump,” Gore later told the Hybrid Herald. “It’s just that—and you may be too young to remember—but 2000 was a pretty close race. And I probably should have won except for Nader and the Florida hanging chads, that’s pretty much the consensus. Plus I won the popular vote.”
“You see, the central idiom here is the inescapable choice between one bad option and another much worse option,” said Holliday. “That’s how a lot of them work, actually.”
“On my first day as president, I won’t need a tour of the White House, and I already know where the bathrooms are!” Clinton said to wild applause.
“Like I get it, you’re meant to read it as ‘trusted’ or ‘trust Ted,’ but Ted Cruz is such an untrustworthy, lying rat bastard that it was like my mind prevented me from seeing it that way,” said Tina, a dominatrix who requested we print only her first name. “I can't help but read it as ‘truss Ted,’ which makes it sound like he wants to be tied up. What a ratfucker.”
“‘And no power on earth could tell whether their blankly indifferent eyes were shutters protecting hidden treasures at the bottom of shafts no longer to be mined, or were merely gaping holes of the parasite's emptiness never to be filled,’” Heidi Cruz read from a worn copy of Atlas Shrugged. “All right, I think that’s a good stopping place for tonight, honey.” She closed the book and set it down on the nightstand, then leaned over her husband and gave him a quick peck on the nose.
Two musclebound bodyguards marched a blindfolded man into the room where Trump waited. Hearing the guards depart, Carson removed his blindfold and took stock of his surroundings. A Persian rug. An ornamental fireplace. A heavy-looking old wardrobe in the corner. A minibar, and Donald Trump sitting comfortably in a leather armchair, slurping down a gimlet.