Everything about this situation is hilarious and cathartic, but I can't bring myself to laugh.
We'd all been looking forward to this (utterly predictable in every way) moment for the past four years, and conceptually, it delivers. If this were a TV finale--and it is--it would be Breaking Bad: exactly what you wanted with nary a twist in sight, but executed so well you walk away satisfied.
You've got Dracula melting in a crematorium parking lot as Trump impotently tries to half-assedly cobble together a coup by popping a lot of Adderrall and pulling an all-night cram session where he orders Jared to order his lawyers to use some kind of, you know, thing, where they give him lots of votes so he wins. You know, fancy lawyer tricks.
He's like Ted Benneke if he tried to use the drug money Skylar anonymously gave him to pay for more sex with her.
And lacked the athleticism to generate enough momentum to crack his skull open.
And if, after Walt died and the last notes of "Baby Blue" faded, Ted inexplicably popped up for a post-credit stinger ala Skeletor in the "Masters Of The Universe" movie to tease a Ted Benneke spinoff in 2024.
(Just to further confuse and alienate the audience, he announces this from a pool of lava, also like Skeletor, and goes on an unscripted 24-minute digression about how great he is at not tripping over rugs).
This should be funny.
But it's not. Because his supporters have accepted this as normal and Congressional Republicans, for the ten billionth time, are playing with so much fire despite their demonstrable inability to control it.
"Don't worry, we've got these angry hillbillies under control for real this time," they assure us as an armed militia storms the Capitol Building wearing Ronald Regan masks and tricorner hats.
Trump's not coming back. Politics won't freeze in place for four years for an elderly loser like him. But the damage he's done and the lives we've lost will haunt us forever.
So *toots party favor joylessly*