🚨 JUST IN: Trump ERUPTS After Kimmel and Jim Carrey Turn His Presidency into a Horror Gallery for Millions to See⚡.CT

Donald Trump is having another meltdown moment — and this time, he’s being roasted from two fronts: late-night TV and a paintbrush.

On one side, you’ve got Jimmy Kimmel, standing on stage night after night describing a president who rage-posts hundreds of times in the middle of the night, calls governors the “r-word,” and insists that Michelle Obama is secretly running the Biden administration while sharing deranged AI clips about Venezuela “surrendering” to him. On the other, you’ve got Jim Carrey — yes, the guy from The Mask and Ace Ventura — quietly building one of the most savage visual archives of Trump’s chaos the world has ever seen.

While MAGA Speaker Mike Johnson squirms through interviews about war crimes off the coast of Venezuela, illegal second strikes, and war plans leaked in “secure” chats, Trump is pounding away at his phone like a man possessed. Republicans, of course, are suddenly “not sure,” “haven’t seen the video,” and “don’t want to prejudge.” Translation: they’re terrified of saying out loud what everyone can see.

But here’s the part almost nobody talks about anymore: Jim Carrey didn’t just tweet his outrage — he painted it.

Right after Trump took office in 2017, Carrey turned his fury into art. Over 100 paintings and drawings in just two years. Trump screaming in agony, Trump as toast, Robert Mueller literally squeezing the president like a stress ball. One painting showed Trump mid-shriek, Carrey captioning it with a question that felt like a national diagnosis: “You scream, I scream. Will we ever stop screaming?”

These weren’t tucked away in some private mansion. Carrey dropped them straight onto Twitter, week after week, where millions could see them. Then in 2018, he took them to Jimmy Kimmel Live — and that’s when it exploded.

On Kimmel’s show, the audience saw painting after painting: Trump as a deranged figure, the presidency turned into a fever dream. Carrey joked, yes, but he also said the quiet part out loud: this administration was a “rabid dog,” turning the country upside down while enablers tried to cover for him. “Covering for this president,” he said, “is like putting makeup on a melanoma — not only ugly, but dangerous.”

He didn’t stop with Trump. Sarah Huckabee Sanders became “the portrait of a so-called Christian whose only purpose in life is to lie for the wicked.” Marco Rubio was painted with blood on his hands for taking NRA money while kids died in schools. Immigrant children torn from their parents were immortalized as screaming, terrified figures while Melania smiled for the cameras. These weren’t cartoons. They were accusations on canvas.

The political class shrugged. MAGA world howled. But the art kept coming.

Kimmel, meanwhile, used his monologues to torch the hypocrisy. Republicans screaming about “election fraud” — but only when they lose. Trump blaming everyone but himself for electoral losses, insisting “Trump wasn’t on the ballot” and typing “AND SO IT BEGINS…” at midnight like a B-movie villain texting his social media guy. As Kimmel joked, would Trump have taken credit if Republicans had won without him on the ballot? You already know the answer.

And while all this was happening, MAGA Republicans were pushing everything from invading Venezuela “for the oil” to arguing there are “too many immigrants” in a country literally built by immigrants. At the same time, they were sabotaging healthcare, threatening shutdowns, and then pretending to care about “working families” as they cut off food, housing help, and medical coverage.

This is the world Carrey and Kimmel were holding a mirror to: a president addicted to attention, a party drunk on power, and a country being gaslit into thinking all of this was normal.

Carrey even took the fight to Saturday Night Live in 2020, playing Joe Biden opposite Alec Baldwin’s Trump. His version of Biden wasn’t just a straight impression — it was a stressed, exhausted stand-in for every American trying not to lose their mind while Trump turned presidential debates into full-contact chaos.

And then, just as suddenly as he’d started, Carrey stepped back. By 2020, he announced he was done with political cartoons. He felt he’d said what needed to be said: “We’re still headed for the rocks, but you understand the warning.” He turned from Trump’s orange rage to painting mangoes — the “fruit of the gods,” symbols of abundance and sweetness.

That’s not surrender. That’s a man who rang the alarm bell until his voice went hoarse and then chose sanity over obsession.

The wild part? Those paintings are still out there. The Kimmel segments still exist. The GOP is still tying itself in knots trying to defend the indefensible while Trump spirals further into late-night delusion.

Years from now, when people look back at this era, they won’t just see headlines and hearings. They’ll see a comedian with a paintbrush and a host with a monologue who refused to pretend this was normal — and a former president who erupted every time someone dared to tell the truth on live TV.