Yup, zany quips and snotty one-liners, that’s his stock in trade. His drool-drenched fans lap that drivel up like the brainless slobs they are, as actual thoughts are too much for them to absorb.

Gaudy hotel decor.

Of course it’s fucking gambling, as is regular fantasy football, your office pool or whatever. If you wager a sum in the hope of winning more, it’s gambling.

Yes, call the orange coward’s bluff.

His orange paint starts to run after two hours, after that he begins to melt.

Nauseating pile of greasy orange sludge, he thinks he’s CEO of earth and all must bow to his cowardly thin-skinned whims. He has no interest in “debating” anything, he just wants to spew out more of his patented sleazy “zingers” and wacky “one-liners” to satiate his slobbering drool-cup army of “fans”. He’s…