NOTHING SACRED
The first one, Donald Trump Versus the Spirit of Christmas, aims for some easy targets–Trump, Zsa Zsa Gabor, the pope. They’re spoofed effortlessly, wrapped up in a premise worthy of a Bob Hope Christmas special: grouchy old Donald Trump hates Christmas. “People are tighter than the pope’s butt at Christmas,” he grumbles, oblivious to the fact that people spend more at Christmas, not less. (Obviously, being a real estate tycoon doesn’t always mean you are hip to people’s spending habits.) After downing a few drinks and pissing on a group of carolers singing under his window (“Here’s some gold!”), Trump passes out on the couch. Moments later, he’s visited by the first of guess how many spirits of Christmas.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
At this point the skit turns ugly. The husband attacks the sister and murders her by shoving the dildo down her throat. Then, discovering what he has done, he slits his own wrists. Naturally, his wife reacts by drinking a bottle of Drano and dies an agonizing death complete with vomited chocolate-syrup blood. The sketch ends with an O. Henry twist that can’t make up for all the gore, cruelty, and just plain dumb misogyny of the previous five minutes.
