⚠️ SNARKY DISCLAIMER
This is satire. Loud, legal, locked, and loaded. No executives were harmed in the making of this rant—unless you count the ones who sold their souls for a merger, shredded their dignity for approval, and still got curb‑stomped by animated 8‑year‑olds in snowcaps. If you're offended, congrats—you found the truth.
So let’s talk about Paramount. Or, as I now like to call them, the world's most expensive doormat.
You see, Paramount wanted something. A shiny thing. An $8 billion Skydance merger. But there was a problem: FOTUS. The orange elephant in the regulatory room. And you don’t get to merge unless you kiss the ring—and the boots—and maybe the ass, too.
So what did they do?
Oh, they complied.
They folded faster than a lawn chair in a tornado.
They settled the 60 Minutes lawsuit—paid Trump $16 million to stop crying about a segment that hurt his feelings.
Then they fired Colbert—the last late-night host with a spine and an audience. Why? Because he made jokes. On a comedy show. During a presidential administration that can't spell “satire” without a teleprompter.
They gutted DEI.
They shuffled executives like a game of hide‑the‑integrity.
They held up a white flag and said, “Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir. Would you like us to shoot Big Bird, too?”
And then—then—the ink wasn’t even dry on their $1.5 billion South Park streaming deal when those glorious cartoon bastards dragged them all into the street and lit them on fire.
I’m not talking a gentle roast. I’m talking full Super Saiyan flamethrower:
Trump in bed with Satan.
Paramount execs hiding behind HR memos.
Stephen Colbert’s ghost moaning through the Viacom servers like a pissed-off poltergeist.
They went scorched earth on FOTUS.
They nuked the lawsuit.
They pissed gasoline on the merger.
And they carved “you spineless sellouts” into the forehead of every suit who thought canceling a comedian would buy them five years of uninterrupted corporate comfort.
THAT’S what $1.5 billion gets you now:
A front-row seat to your own televised funeral—animated, foul-mouthed, and accurate as hell.
Paramount paid off the bully, canceled the conscience, and still got roasted by the one show in their catalog that doesn’t give a single corporate fuck.
And FOTUS? You think he’s happy about this?
He’s out there screaming about “deep state animation,” trying to sign an executive order against cartoons.
He’s probably demanding Trey Parker’s extradition.
He’s calling the FCC from a golf cart, asking if Kenny counts as Antifa.
This is poetic justice, written in fart jokes and delivered on a billion-dollar contract.
And Paramount? They can’t even complain.
They paid for it. They licensed their own takedown.
It’s like buying a piñata and discovering it’s full of subpoenas.
FINAL THOUGHT?
In a world where corporations would sell their ethics for shareholder applause, South Park just reminded us who’s still punching up.
Paramount wanted a merger.
They got a reckoning.
And FOTUS?
He finally got the cartoon presidency he always wanted—right up until the cartoon turned around and said: “Screw you, we’re going to Hell— and you’re driving the bus.”
