Love It or Loot It

Trump’s cabinet lives to waste taxpayers’ money on fanciful things. Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin and his wife, Louise Linton, an actress best known for her maleficent Postmates orders, Thelma and Louise’d a jet straight into the sun. Annoyingly, they did not stick the landing by vanishing into the heavens, but they did get home in time to Postmate some dessert: a cup of applesauce clutched in the cold, gnarled fingers of a peasant child’s severed hand. Former Veteran Affairs Secretary David Shulkin and his wife, Merle Bari, a dermatologist best known for gluing her husband’s skin onto his face every morning, took a luxurious London vacation to see the sights and ruin Wimbledon with their mere presence. Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke took a whimsical, impromptu helicopter ride to meet Mike Pence, a Vice-President best known for being the mask from Scream’s dad, to ride horses and do Brokeback Mountain cosplay. But besides romantic getaways, these dumb villains love spending America’s allowance on expensive, probably ugly furniture. But the time has come for these crooks to Return! That! Furn!™

Welcome to Return That Furn: Skeletons In the Cabinet. The lifestyle makeover show where Trump’s degenerate cabinet members are forced to give up their fancy furniture of lies and learn how to shop at regular stores. Okay, hang onto your hats, folks, these people are the worst.

Our first contestant is Housing and Urban Development Secretary, Ben Carson. Ben enjoys not knowing anything about housing policy, falling asleep at the wheel, Jolly Ranchers, and being a dum dum neurosurgeon. When Ben moved into his HUD digs, he felt the furniture provided was “haunted” so he ordered a $31,000 dining set. When the dining set became national news, Ben canceled that furn order and now here we are in Pier 1!

Welcome to Pier 1, Ben! Isn’t it somber? Dammit Ben, you can’t just take a Jolly Rancher out of your mouth and stick it on a rug, this isn’t the Oval Office. Okay here we go, dining room sets. Here let me just ask this divorced man to stop crying and lift his face from the display table. “Sir, it’s over. Go join a dodgeball team.” Okay, Ben, sit where the sad man was sitting, I think this table is the one. Imagine all of the dinner parties you could host at this very table. Picture it: you and your colleagues, drinking gimlets, eating quail beaks, talking about how poor people shouldn’t even get to have shitty studio apartments. Ben, you look like you’re getting too comfy in that chair. Ben, you’re eyes are fluttering, don’t fall asleep, you lil’ Rip Van Winkle. Oh wow, folks, Ben looks like he’s about to say something. “I … (sleeps for ten years) will not nap.”

Okay, folks, I tucked Ben Carson into a trundle bed, maybe he’ll stay there forever. You know our next contestant from romantically riding horses with Mike Pence: It’s Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke! Ryan is a naughty, naughty boy, he spent $139,000 on some doors!

Come with me, Ryan, we’re heading to Home Depot. That’s right folks, Home Depot, I’m a woman, this won’t be fun for me! Here we are, walking through the parking lot. I’ve been harassed 42 times in five minutes and Ryan, who spends other people’s money on flashy helicopter rides and DOORS has been treated very respectfully. Cool! All right, we’re in the Home Depot, let’s make our way over to the door department. Oh, nice, while Ryan was blissfully picking out quirky paint swatches for his and Pence’s fuck cabin, several men just whispered into my neck that they’d give me a good deal on installing my toilet seat and I’m not even holding a toilet seat! Ryan! Get the hell over here and pick out a dumb door so I can hit you in the back of the knee with it!

Sorry, folks, Home Depot can be a lot. Our next contestant, Trump’s attorney, Michael Cohen,  was living that Howard Hughes hotel life—watching movies naked with a pink cocktail napkin over his junk and pissing in empty Yoo-hoo bottles—until the FBI stopped by to watch the rest of Girl, Interrupted and raid his room. Besides a lot of incriminating documents, the FBI also discovered he defiled that hotel couch something awful, so he needs to Replace! That! Furn!™

Welcome to West Elm, Michael Cohen! Isn’t it nice? I’ll never be able to buy a couch here but you get to, and I hate that. The couches are over… well, well, well, who do we have here? If it isn’t Senator Paul Ryan, best known for being a jumbo peanut rotting in its shell, shopping for workout benches because he pooped on his last one.

Paul, how out of touch can you be? Shopping for workout benches in a West Elm? This West Elm is next to a Big 5, you dunce. Go to Big 5! Get all the sporting equipment you need for your retirement at 48 YEARS OLD. I get it, you must be exhausted from everything you accomplished in Congress. I mean no one pushed disabled veterans out of their wheelchairs faster than you did. No one deported grandmothers with more gusto. And no one ripped chemo pills out of sick children’s mouths more efficiently. Congrats on your early retirement, I hope you fall off a yacht!

Okay, I put Michael Cohen and Paul Ryan on a dilapidated yacht, so we’ll see what happens. Our final contestant is Chief of the Environmental Protection Agency, Scott Pruitt. When Scott isn’t busy ruining the environment, he enjoys taking lunch-time naps that make him look like he died on a couch. The EPA spent $43,000 on a ‘secure phone booth’ for Scott’s office and no one even wants to call this guy! Scott, Return That Furn-Booth. You like phones? Great, we are going to Target. Welcome to Target, Scott! Doesn’t it have a distinct stale pizza smell? Oh, here we go, Scott, the perfect phone for you. It’s white, with big buttons, and a spiral-noodle cord!

Scott, get out of the cart. Scott, you can’t be in the cart when I put it on the cart escalator, people will think you’re dead again. Hey, listen Scott? We are in a Target and yelling is normal, no one thinks you’re special for yelling right now. I know you wanted a phone booth, sweetie but we’re gonna install the phone in the bathroom, so when you shut the door, voila, it’s a phone booth! Fine, you know what, Scott, ride the Target cart escalator straight to Target Hell (Kohl’s). Yes, folks, that was a sick Kohl’s burn, and this has been Return! That! Furn!

And there you have it folks, the dumbest, most wasteful tools you know, running our government into the ground while pooping their workout benches. Ain’t that America? Tune in next week or next year, for a very special episode of Return That Furn: The Golden Toilet Edition. We follow a newly-impeached Trump as he tries to return his contaminated, golden toilets to any store or residence that will take them. Spoiler alert: Paul Ryan pays $50 for the whole set and uses them as cereal bowls.