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In a political circus that rivals any three-ring extravaganza, Donald Trump is pulling off a comeback act that feels a little less like a political campaign and more like a cringe-worthy audition for a role in a Netflix reality show. Meanwhile, Kamala Harris has decided that sticking to the script is for amateurs and is now channeling her inner stand-up comedian in what Democrats are calling their last-ditch effort to throw off the “I’m just here for the coffee” vibe.

The two candidates, like two relatives at a family reunion dodging contentious topics, are now scrambling for the few remaining undecided voters like they’re fighting over the last piece of pizza at a party nobody wanted to attend. Trump just wrapped up a town hall where he, apparently channeling his best Saturday Night Fever, danced like no one was watching—except we all were, and we wish we weren’t. “I’m the father of IVF!” he declared, a statement that might have left some women wondering if they had accidentally tuned into a fertility seminar hosted by the wrong person.

In his latest performance piece, he argued that his nonsensical speaking style is actually an avant-garde tapestry of ideas meant for the intellectual elite. His reimagining of January 6 as a love-in had many scratching their heads, trying to figure out what kind of hallucinogen he was sampling.

Over on the Democratic side, Harris is on a quest to win back key voters as she tries to unite Black men, who are being cooed over by Trump like a fluttery bird trying to steal crumbs from a picnic. After all, she can’t afford to lose votes to an ex-president who treats politics like a Tinder profile—swiping right on dictators while giving democracy the cold shoulder. She labeled Trump as “weak,” because nothing says strength quite like crackling rhetoric about resisting fascism while literally being surrounded by people who were saying “wait, what?” during his speeches.

As both candidates clumsily navigate the shark-infested waters of voter sentiment, they’ve got their work cut out for them: Trump attempting to charm women by talking about a reproductive healthcare system he actively fought against, while Harris, true to the Democratic ethos, reluctantly wades into the land of spontaneous public engagements—because, you know, addressing real issues is so last decade.

Polling numbers are as stable as a three-legged chair at a drunken poetry reading, neither candidate able to capture the hearts of swing voters who seem to be as fickle as a cat at a dog park. Early voting in Georgia is smashing records, leading some to speculate that perhaps people really do enjoy stepping into a booth to pick their poison. But let’s not forget the GOP is on a fervent recruiting mission to get its reluctant base back into the swing of things, despite having previously insisted that voting on Election Day was their best-kept secret.

Adding some spice to the main event, Gabriel Sterling, the man with the most optimistic job title in Georgia, bemoaned the doom-and-gloom narrative surrounding democracy, as if he were trying to sell beachfront property in a hurricane zone.

Meanwhile, Trump showcased his battle plan for a second term, promising to unleash holy tariffs on any country or company that looked at America the wrong way. Just your typical presidential fluff: a sprinkle of conspiracy theories blended into a thick batter of grievances, poured over an audience of eager participants who may or may not have been seduced by the promise of lower taxes or free fries with every burger.

And as the stage is set for this political thriller—or should we say horror show?—both candidates are grasping for voters like desperate contestants on a reality dating show, hoping against hope that this time, when they say “I love you,” it’ll come true and actually resonate instead of falling flat, like a soufflé in a wind tunnel. Buckle up; it’s bound to be a bumpy ride!

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