Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and—once SWAT finally breaches the French doors and completes the drop—a side of emergency fries. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, but when asked by the press on the plane back to Mar-a-Lago why Hegseth quoted a Samuel L. Jackson “Pulp Fiction” speech as some biblical-sounding justification for war crimes, he pointed and shouted,

⚠️ INTRUSIVE THOUGHT ⚠️ . . . . Caitlyn Jenner is live streaming the UFC America250 Cage-fight-ennial, gradually making her way across a loud, crowded, chaotic White House lawn toward Lump. The subsequent footage is replayed and overanalyzed for the next 250 years.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and came THIS CLOSE to signing an Executive Order for a McRib. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and recalled that insanity is “doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.” Dammit, he answered “elephant” again on his last cognitive exam! Until tomorrow.

He’s only micro-dozing.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, even though these never actually perform that well on Sundays anyway. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and left a post in his drafts so the intern could preview it: “Happy two-week anniversary, Civilization. You have two more weeks.” Until tomorrow.

Whipping out a new cure for measles?

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, a Bacon Hot Honey McCrispy, and several Mighty Hot Sauce dip cups, enjoyed through a straw. He has a legendary cast iron stomach, known more commonly today as “GERD immunity.” Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, closely followed by 9 to 19 McNuggets. "Ya Allah!” he gasped, smashing the bathroom Diet Coke button… We have another blockade!!! Until tomorrow.

Funny how it always circles back to one particular place: Denmark and/or Norway…

We’ve only just hit the “halfway to Halloween” mark, yet I’m betting costume plans are already locked in for many of us.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, but it was delivered by a different DoorDash Grandma than the one he’d hoped to see again—the one who still owes him change from his $100 tip. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, a Spicy Deluxe McCrispy, and, since they are only available for a limited time, a large Ramyeon McShaker Fries. His GERD was screaming, but then his FOMO kicked in. Until tomorrow.

Because some things shouldn't be transparent.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and scanned his socials. Oh, #Antichrist is having a bit of an uptick. Until tomorrow.

Get a clue, Usha!

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and a K-Pop Demon Hunters Meal, which, fortunately, comes in a daebak cardboard dybbuk box. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and an epiphany: maybe he simply had to deny ever having a relationship with Melania. Until tomorrow.

Melania was right about everything.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and—what is that smell?! That rotten egg smell. It better not be a gas leak. There’s no one else around to blame since he fired the Easter Bunny for hiding eggs from him. And for buying that fuck plane. Until tomorrow.

New pope, who dis?

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin before stepping into the top-secret SCIF used to teleport between the White House and any Waffle House in the world. Ah, the smell of grievance, smothered and covered in onions and syrups.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and looked over the 10-point plan they put on the table. 9-point plan. 8.5... no, 8-point… As negotiators, they are some tough nuggets! Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and, as everybody knows, ended eight wars and is already working on a ninth. He also rescued those pilots, is the ultimate recipient of a Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts in Venezuela, and already knew what “looning” meant.

Was anybody anywhere else aware of knowing about this?! youtu.be/xKI0NWiA3HU

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin during an emergency Cabinet breakfast meeting where Kash and Hegseth both tried to order onion rings—from McDonald’s! OK, so those two remain tied for first on the Next List. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and treated himself to some Peeps from his basket. His preference is always for the original, neon-yellow, realistic ones. One of Jesus’ best inventions. Until tomorrow.

Nobody would let this guy into the 27 Club?

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, imagining what it would be like if he actually bombed Iran back to the Stone Age… Ayatollah Rock-meini riding around Teh-sand-ran in a limo made of boulders and logs—or on an I-ran-asaurus!

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and then decimated a 10-piece McNuggets, meaning he’s eaten exactly 10% of them, or one, but is promising to completely obliterate the rest well within a two-week timeframe. And done. Until tomorrow.

Thankfully, the job market is really tough out there.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, which always “fills his gas tank” for only $4. Is there a way to bring the gas pump nozzles inside the body? he wondered aloud. Until tomorrow.

Bodacious bimbofications, Batman!

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Tuscan-style kale salad with a lemon-garlic vinaigrette, freshly grated Pecorino, and toasted panko. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, still insisting that no boots would be put on the ground in Iran because he expected the troops to wear their new Florsheims. Until tomorrow.

What saith JD, the Demonfinder General?

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin over a strategy session where Kharg Island was taken with ease. Or, at least, the McNugget representing it was. Until tomorrow.

It’s so uncanny, and the robot weirds me out too.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, wondering why people call him a white nationalist and a racist, when really, he would be the first to complain about a blackface Ronald McDonald. Until tomorrow.

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and braced for a day of No Kings protests. When people say he can’t have something, though, he just wants it more—so he started craving Burger King. And no one’s saying no to the Colonel’s, neither. Until tomorrow.

It has been over 24 hours and no response. Did I break it?

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and gave his ICE detail ONE JOB: go to McDonald’s and pick up French fries. And what did they bring? A big bag of Baked Apple PIES! He took them, but that’s a little too America First even for him. Until tomorrow.

For those obligated to pay taxes this year.

#NOKINGS For never and never. March 28th. www.nokings.org

Ever feel... nothing at all?… more

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin, but, after repeated questioning, denied he knows the Muffin Man. Until tomorrow.

Wise men say…

Good morning. Maybe he had his usual Egg McMuffin and was asked moments later, during an emergency presser on Iran, who his favorite band was. “McMuffin & Sons,” he mumbled, possibly.