(Thundering tympanies, swirling spotlights)
Live! From the fabulous Turtle Bay Ballroom at United Nations Headquarters, it’s the Rat Pack of Evil All-Star International Celebrity Roast of President Barack Obama!
(orchestra fanfare: ‘Make ‘Em Laugh’)
With Pyongyang funnyman Kim Jong-Il! Borscht Belt headliner Vlady Putin! Queen of Mean Liz Windsor! Saudi Sheik of Schtick King Abdullah! Beijing jokeslinger Hu Jintao! Wacky al Qaeda Caveman Ayman al-Zawahiri! Nick ‘the Knife’ Sarkozy! Sassy Wanda Sykes! South-of-the-border slapstick team Hugo Chavez and the Castro Brothers! Taliban Madman Mullah Omar! Jon Stewart! Lovable Libyan lush Muammar al-Ghadaffi! Grovelin’ Guvner Gordy Brown! Bashar “The Chin” al-Assad! The Hamas Fattah Dancers! And starring your Master of Ceremonies — that suntan man with a plan from Iran — that Persian with a nuclear perversion — Sheckyyyyyy Ahmedinejad!
Okay, okay, pipe down. Let’s get this thing over with, this straitjacket is a rental and my magic carpet is double-parked on East 43rd. Mohamed H. Prophet, will you get a load of the evil on the stage tonight? I haven’t seen this many bombs since Janeane Garofalo played the American Legion convention.
At least there aren’t any Zionist. Hey, wait a minute – there’s Jon Stewart! Oy vey, who let the Jew in? This is a comedy event, for Allah’s sake. Hey Jon, do you know what I have in common with Taco Bell? We’re both gonna give you the gas.
(Jon Stewart mugs Macaulay Culkin ‘Home Alone’ face)
But, hey, enough about these losers. Let’s talk about the man we’re all here to honor tonight: my pal, Barack Obama.
What a mensch this guy is. Total sweetheart. As soon as he was elected, he told me he would come to the negotiating table without preconditions. You know what ‘preconditions’ are? That’s Persian for ‘balls.’ Barack, one look at the stars on the stage proves you still have a knack for community organizing. You’ve brought the entire evil community together, in the spirit of international dialog, to ask you one simple question: how does our ass taste?
But not everybody has a sense of humor. When I was planning this roast, I sent invitations to every bigshot infidel TV comic in Satanland, but they all turned me down. Was it my holocaust one-liners? My ballistic missile schtick? Nope. These douchebags said they couldn’t think of anything funny about Barack Obama. Not a single thing.
(scattered groans, boos)
Yeah, exactly. I mean what the fuck? Maybe I should get my SAG card, because, come on, this clueless pussy is the biggest gift to international insult comedy since Neville Chamberlain. Holy dung, when we heard the infidels elected him, I almost had to shut down my nuke program. My scientists were laughing so hard they kicked over half of our centrifuges!
(Ghadaffi sprays tea on Assad )
But, no-o-o, all these professional comedy dipshits keep telling me Professor Urkel over here is some sort of infidel sacred joke cow. I called up Letterman, and I’m like, Dave how about a couple Obama zingers for the roast tonight? He’s like, “no, no, too controversial. Everybody loves him.” And so I’m like, how about if I just insult America? So he’s like, “yeah, sure, that’s fine.”
Okay then, here’s one: man, that America is one stupid country.
(audience: HOW STUPID IS IT?)
It’s so fucking stupid it elected Barack Obama.
Hey, hey. I kid because I love. In fact, unlike that last mumblemouth infidel asshole, Barack has been a breath of fresh air to the entire evil comedy community. He doesn’t whine about the way we treat broads or homos or journalist hostages or our uranium stockpiles. Nope. He just smiles, and apologizes, and politely asks us to “unclench our fists.” Hey bro, I’d love to, but that’s kinda hard to do when it’s stuck inside your duodenum.
Okay, let’s get this show on the road. Our first roaster comes from England, where she’s the star of a long running one-woman show at the Buckingham Palace Dinner Theater. Ladies and Martyrs, you know her, you hate her, please welcome the Queen of Spleen, Liz Windsor!
(band breaks into God Save the Queen, applause)
Thanks for that swell intro, Shecky. By the way, I know how much you love our infidel nuclear technology, but we’ve got another 1940’s invention you should really check out. It’s called deodorant.
Listen folks, I know you came here expecting me to start hurling some tasteless insults at Barack Obama. But, seriously, I just can’t bring myself to do it. Barack is almost like another son to me.
Yeah, another jug eared idiot with a hard-on for horsefaced women. Barack was in London a couple weeks ago and rang me up, asked if he could drop by for tea. So he comes in, and I’m thinking, whoa — those Yanks have really stepped up their space program, he’s brought along a real live Klingon. Turns out it was his wife.
Yep. Then, oh Jesus, in she starts with all the hugging. And I’m like, fer chrissake, somebody hand Lieutenant Worf a planet Earth protocol guide. Then Barack pops off and says, “hey Your Majesty, I brought a gift.” Okay, I’m thinking, car company? Banking system? National Park? Then I open the box. It’s an iPod. A fucking iPod. Preloaded with Barack’s easy listening speech hits.
(stares at Obama amid nervous laughter)
Yeah, way to cement that special relationship, dumbfuck. Jesus Christ, was Wal Mart sold out of Sham Wows? Oh yeah, that iPod is going in the vault with the crown jewels. Right next to that sack of DVDs you bought for Gordy Brown.
Now see here, Your Majesty! I thought that was quite thoughtful gesture, and…
Oh, shut the fuck up, Gordy. I don’t come to your job and slap Obama’s dick out of your mouth. Listen folks, my time’s up, and this tiara is chafing like a sonuvabitch. Time for me to lie back and think of England. Don’t forget to tip your waitress!
Liz Tudor everybody! Hey Liz — word to the wise. Stay out of the London subways this summer. By the way, you know the last thing to go through Princess Di’s head?
Her ass. Next up is another monarch who primogenitured his way to the top — give a hand to that Saudi royal with a buttload of oil, King Abdullah!
(applause; ‘Desert Caravan’)
Thanks everybody! Hey, how about that Shecky Ahmedinejad, ladies and gentleman? What a guy, he’d give you the Zanjeer Zani off his back. Now you know, a lot of people think I got it pretty good being a ruthless hereditary billionaire sitting on top of an ocean of crude oil and the top psycho theme park in the Middle East. But lemme tell you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. How’d you like to have 37 mothers in-law?
But hey, controlling the world energy supply has its perks. People tend to treat you pretty nice. They offer you thoughtful little gifts and kickbacks. Now, Barack here, for instance, likes to offer blowjobs.
What? What? Don’t believe me? Let’s go to the video. Sure, Bush liked holding hands, but he was a total pricktease. But Barack, hey, the guy goes down faster than a fat shaheed on madrassa prom night.
(Putin wipes away tears of laughter as Abdullah slowly pantomimes fellatio)
Now look Barack, I really appreciate the gesture, but regardless of what you might have heard — homie don’t swing that way.
(looks around slowly to banquet table surrounded by burqqa-clad wives)
On the other hand, send me your cell number. I never know when I’ll need a booty call. Good night folks, drive safely! Unless you’re a woman.
Now that’s what I call crude humor. Our next performer has been called everything from the Andy Kauffman of international relations to the Gilbert Gottfried of the global nuclear club. Gird your loins for the annoying, far-out, certifiably insane comedic stylings of Kim! Jong! Il!
(applause; ‘They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Ha’)
Kim Jong Il
(walks slowly over to Barack Obama and leans into his face)
Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother you? I’m not nuking you! Does this bother…
Okay orderlies, cart him away. Jeez, and I thought I was nuts. Let’s bring it down a notch with a set from my dear old friend and original cast member of al-Qaeda’s Friday Night Live, Dr. Ayman al-Zawahiri!
(applause, ‘911 is a Joke’)
Thank you, thank you. What a panel we got here, huh? I haven’t seen this many sick assholes since I was doing proctology rounds at Cairo General.
(Ahmedinejad spit take)
And there’s our man of the hour, Mr. Barack fuckin’ joke thief Obama. Havin’ fun, buddy?
(Obama smiles nervously)
Listen pal, maybe I live in a cave, but I read the papers. Strafing Manhattan in a 747? Really? In case you didn’t notice, I was doing that routine like eight fucking years ago. I mean, what are you, Carlos fucking Mencia?
(Obama smiles nervously)
What’s the matter? Teleprompter got your tongue?
(Obama smiles nervously)
Holy scimitar, this fuckface couldn’t ad lib a fart. Listen, Barack, I appreciate all the reach–arounds, but if you don’t stop stealing my material I swear to Allah I’m gonna sic a copyright lawyer on your apostate ass. As soon as I can find one who isn’t a Jew. Goodnight folks, you’ve been a great audience! Death to America!
Ayman al-Zawahiri, everybody! If you’re in Swat this weekend, make sure you catch his act at the Khyber Pass Inn. Our next performer comes from the exotic Orient where he works the Forbidden City Casino. Ladies and Gentleman, the man with the biggest bankroll and smallest dick in international show biz, Mister Hu Jintao!
(applause, ‘Slow Boat to China’)
Yeah Confucius say fuck you, you third rate unibrow rug dealer. Don’t make me open a can of one-child-policy on your smelly Persian ass. You’re no Long Dong Wang yourself, and at least mine isn’t covered in camel crap. Hey everybody, how’s it goin’?
And how about that Barack Obama. What a prince, huh? The most generous man in show biz.
Yep. Generous to a fault. With my money. What? You think all those big tips he throws around come out of his own pocket? Just the other day he called up and said, “hey Hu, how about spotting me a couple trillion till next tax day?” And I’m like, what, does Aunt Esther need another pair of sneakers? And he goes, “no, I got a Social Security payment due.”
I’m like, dude — what happened to that last trillion I lent you? Get this: the stupid fucker spent it on a beat up Cadillac for his union buddies. So I say, look, I’m a little short right now. I’ll catch you at your 30-year treasury bond garage sale. Then the next week he’s like, dude, where were you?” Ah so, round-eye! No tickee, no thirty!
Yeah, that ain’t the half of it. Not only does this asshole expect me to be his personal ATM and pawnshop, he’s always calling up bitching about something. Just the other day, he’s like, “come on Hu, how come you keep busting my balls with your naval drive-bys?” I’m like dude, you’re 3 months overdue on your aircraft carrier payments. Those aren’t Chinese navy boats, those are repo men!
Look folks, I gotta get back home and churn out another load of defective plastic crap for Wal Mart, to make some money, to lend to Barack for some new idiot free bullshit program. Christ, and they call me a Commie! ‘Night everybody, and please remember to thank your designated tank driver.
Hu Jintao! Toxic Choking Hazard Toy Industry’s Man of the Year, everybody! Hu Jintao. Next we have that crazy Caucasian from across the Caucasus, that Gremlin from the Kremin, 15-time winner of KGB Entertainer of the Year, Vlady Putin!
Tank yous Shecky! Tank yous very much. Ho boy, it is good to be in America! I love America, is great country. It is land of free! Not like my country. In my country, whole government run by corrupt communist thugs. They ignore the laws. They take over companies and give the money to their friends. America is very totally different! It has 110 volt outlets.
Haha! Vlady make funny everybody! Hey Barack, you teach Vlady how to nationalize the banks, hokay?
Best thing about America is everybody is so very very nice. Especially the President Barack! He is complete pussycat. Pussy, pussy, pussycat. He loves Vlady’s practical jokes. I kick his Air Force out of Kyrgyzstan he say, hokey dokey, Vlady! Then I fly my bombers right over his ships, and he sends fat babushka lady to give me a funny reset button gag gift. I say, hey Barack, what Vlady gotta do to make you mad? He say, “just don’t go to no tea parties, hokay?”
What a country! Because Barack be so nice to me, now I want to sing him a nice American song from the Hoagy Carmichael.
(Vlady pulls out balalaika and tunes up)
Georgia, Geor-or-orgia… no peace can I find… it’s just them old sweet tanks that keep Georgia on my mind.
Tanks everybody! Take it easy on the Vodka!
Vlady Putin, everyone! Okay, our next performer is a good ol’ country boy from the hills of Waziristan, where he emcees the weekly Grand Ole Stoning show at the Wana Goat Corral. Let’s give it up for Mullah Omar!
(applause; Theme From ‘Deliverance’)
Thanks Shecky. When Shecky asked me to do this gig, I was like, what the fuck? Dude, I’m a fucking Taliban, I know as much about comedy as Perez Hilton knows about vaginas. So he says, “don’t worry. I lined up this professional infidel comedian to write your bit.” I’m like, oh yeah? And he’s like, “yeah, her name is Wanda Sykes.” And I’m like, a broad? And he’s like, “Trust me, Barack loves her. She totally slays the infidels.”
Okay, you know I’m down with that. So then this Wanda shows up at my cave yesterday with a stack of cue cards with her jokes. And I’m like, bitch please — put on a fucking burqqa. So I’m doing the read-through, and every gag is about killing some guy named Rush Limbaugh. So, I’m like, who the fuck is this Limbaugh guy? I thought this gig was supposed to be about Obama. And she goes, “he’s a fat radio Nazi who hates Blacks and Jews and gay people.” And I’m like, hey, sounds like my kinda guy. And she’s like, “exactly!” And I’m like, why would I want to insult somebody I agree with? So she says “because he’s for the war, dumbass.”
And so at this point I’m pretty fucking confused. So I say to her, okay, now I think I get it. This fat guy is funny because (a) he supports Obama’s crusade against us, even though (b) he and I are on the same page, homo-killing-wise. The funny is from the irony or something. And she’s like, “no, idiot! Barack wants to stop the war.” So I’m like, wait a minute… Barack is against the war? Then why is he still running it? Besides, I though he actually likes homos. And she goes, “He does, you retard! That’s why he’s going to end the bombing and leave you alone.”
Now I’m even more confused. So I go, look Wanda, maybe I’m not up on your infidel inside jokes, but this material is really gonna bomb in front of a shaheed audience. So she gives me that look and says, “okay, you cracker ass cracker, why don’t you show me what you people think is funny?” Long story short..
(Omar reaches down behind podium and pulls out Wanda Sykes’ head)
Hey Wanda…here’s your sign.
Alluha Akbar, y’all!
(Omar walks back to his seat, tosses the head to Hugo Chavez who puts it on his hand, muppet style)
Wanda Sykes’ Head
(Abdullah falls out chair in helpless laughter; Fidel Castro stares in comatose deadpan)
Mullah Omar, everybody! Now that’s why they call him the king of prop comedy!
Okay folks. Now, it’s time to hear from the man who’s been sitting here all evening, silently absorbing all our insults. Here’s his chance to get a little payback! Ladies and Dictators, please welcome our esteemed man of the hour, leader of the infidel world, and the only man in the room who doesn’t realize he’s way over his head — President Barack Obama!
(standing ovation; ‘Hail to the Chief’)
Lemme tell ya, I don’t get any respect.
(torrential screams of convulsive uncontrollable sustained laughter; Sarkozy falls backwards in chair; Omar wipes tears away while shooting AK47 into air; Abdullah pantomimes fellatio; Castro stares comatose; Vlady pilots toy airplane above Obama’s head; Kim and Shecky take turns punching gag missile launch button; Jon Stewart mugs look of horror)
That’s all the time we have tonight! Thanks to all the performers, and Barack Obama for being such a good sport. See you at the next Rat Pack of Evil roast, when we move to the fabulous Boom Boom Room at the Radioactive Crater Resort in Downtown Jerusalem! Goodnight 12th Imam, wherever you are!