A talent agent is sitting in his office. A man walks in.
“Have I got an act for you,” says the man.
“Oh yeah?” says the talent agent. “Tell me about it.”
“It’s a family act,” says the man. "You have the father. He’s a real dope. Looks like a red-faced combover Borscht Belt comedian who’s so washed up that he’s playing Otsego County. He comes on stage with his daughter, who’s beautiful, a knockout, and the father starts talking about how he wants to fuck the daughter. Hilarious, right? “Look at these hands!” the father brags to his daughter. “Are they small hands? I guarantee you there’s no problem. I guarantee you.”
Then his two sons come on stage. They’re even dopier than Dad. They look like what might happen if Popeye and Olive Oil really had mated but also like inbred human Skittles. Just the dumbest dopes ever. Anyway, they come on with this amazing leopard — a gorgeous animal, really you’ve never seen anything like it — and these two sons, they just start hacking the thing to death right there on stage. Blood and guts and gristle are flying everywhere, onto the combover Dad and onto the daughter he wants to fuck. The dopey sons absolutely slaughter this beautiful animal, and then they skin it right there onstage and dress in the hide, so they’re completely covered in blood and gore.
Three women dressed in sexy power suits and stiletto heels come on. They’re all the wives of Borscht Belt Dad, and they start mud wrestling right there on the stage, scratching and kicking and tearing each other’s hair out and screaming, “I’m the First Lady! No me — I’m the First Lady! You’re a nobody! You have no class! I’ll push you off a piste, you bitch!” While the wives argue, a porn star spanks Borscht Belt Dad with a biweekly business magazine. They fuck and then he throws some coins at her to make her go away.
But wait. It gets better.
Borscht Belt Dad has friends. A white-haired guy comes on stage with his wife, but he calls her “Mother” and you’re never really sure about their relationship. Then another guy who looks like Don Imus’ liver chewed up some human pockmarks and spit them out comes on stage, but despite his beer paunch he’s surprisingly supple and he pulls down his cargo shorts and starts sucking his own cock.
Borscht Belt dad gets angry at the auto-fellating drekbag, and the two start yelling and calling each other names as if they were rotten overmedicated kids at a moneyed douchebag boarding school. A gaggle of white guys in expensive suits come on stage, and dollars start falling from the sky. The men are all pushing and shoving and trampling each other to try and grab as many dollars as they can. Some of them start humping Confederate statues while others are deep throating the muzzles of AR-15s, and a few just jump right into the mud pit and start wrestling the women while Roy Moore French kisses a 14-year-old girl who he offered to babysit. A couple of poor guys come on and try to catch a few dollars, but they’re thrown in jail for smoking marijuana.
Borscht Belt Dad blows a dog whistle, and a bunch of white guys dressed in identical bland trousers march across the stage, carrying Tiki torches and bitching about being victims while they beat up immigrants. They whine about a wall they want Borscht Daddy to build, but he’s too busy chasing a black guy who just came on stage. “Son of a bitch!” he yells at him, “Fire him! Fire him!” A naked guy with a Nixon tattoo on his back comes on stage and also starts chasing the black guy yelling, “Humiliate him! Humiliate him” until one of the muddy wives trips the naked guy, and he goes flying into the air and crashes spectacularly into the Shrek walrus, who’s sucking his own cock again. At that exact moment, a chartered plane is lowered onto the stage. The white guys in suits jostle to get onto the chartered plane clutching all their dollars. “I’m not an insane idiot!” Borscht Dad rants to no one. “I’m a very stable genius!” and then these young teenage beauty contestants come on stage. "Grab them by the pussy! Grab them by the pussy” yells Borscht Belt Dad. He starts chasing the girls all over the stage, screaming, “I’m a celebrity I’ll move on you like a bitch, I can do whatever I want!” He gets onto this huge mattress and screams, “A Black president slept here! Do something!” Then a group of Russian prostitutes come on stage, and they start peeing all over the mattress and all over Borscht Belt Dad and all over everyone.
So there they all are, in this shitholey shithouse, completely drenched in mud and leopard blood and guts and dollars and Russian prostitute piss. Afterwards, they all stand up and take a bow."
“That’s an interesting act,” says the talent agent. “What do you call it?”
The man extends jazz hands.
“The American Aristocrats!”