⚡ FLASH NEWS: Pritzker dares Trump to “come get me” as Kimmel dissects explosive Epstein emails in brutal late-night showdown ⚡.CT

It began with a question Donald Trump clearly did not want to answer.

“Mr. President, what did Jeffrey Epstein mean in these emails when he said you knew about the girls?”

On camera, Trump gave his familiar response: total denial. He insisted he knew “nothing about that,” then immediately tried to yank the conversation toward Bill Clinton instead. But this time, the usual deflection didn’t bury the story.

Because this time, Jimmy Kimmel and Illinois Governor JB Pritzker decided to drag it back into the light — live on national television.

From the opening minutes of his monologue, Kimmel wasn’t just telling jokes. He was building a case. Armed with headlines, snippets from Epstein’s emails, and clips of Trump’s responses, he walked the audience through a pattern: whenever Epstein’s name gets near Trump’s, the former president points in every direction but his own.

The center of the storm was one bizarre email.
An Epstein email that referred to Trump “blowing a person named Bubba.”

Trump’s defenders instantly tried to claim “Bubba” meant Bill Clinton. Social media erupted, conspiracy threads exploded, and the narrative started shifting toward the Clintons — again. Then Epstein’s brother, Mark Epstein, stepped in and clarified that Bubba was not Bill Clinton at all.

That’s where Kimmel pounced.

He treated the email like a courtroom exhibit, waving it like evidence and inviting viewers to follow along: if “Bubba” wasn’t Clinton, why were Trump supporters so eager to make it about him?

Why did Trump pivot straight to Clinton the moment he was asked about “the girls”? The audience didn’t laugh because the story was silly — they laughed because it was deeply uncomfortable.

And that’s when JB Pritzker stepped into the frame.

The Illinois governor didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t perform. He simply stated the part that still stuns people:

“Let’s start with the idea that this is a convicted felon threatening to jail me.”

Trump had recently called for Pritzker to be imprisoned. On air, Pritzker answered with one of the coldest lines of the night:

“If you come for my people, you come through me. So come and get me.”

The crowd erupted. The host pushed him: did he think Trump would actually try to arrest him? Pritzker didn’t flinch. He said Trump “always chickens out” and made it clear he’s not afraid — because, in his view, there is no probable cause, no legal basis, just a familiar pattern of threats aimed at political enemies.

Suddenly this wasn’t just late-night comedy anymore.
It felt like open defiance.

Kimmel layered on the legal stakes. He reminded viewers that a bill to release Epstein-related files could land on Trump’s desk, forcing him to either sign or veto it — and joking that it would be a very embarrassing way for Trump to finally learn how a bill becomes law.

When Rep. Thomas Massie voiced concern that the Epstein probe might be a “smokescreen,” Trump’s answer was the same playbook: blame “fake news” and pivot to his “tremendous success.”

Then Kimmel went darker.

He highlighted how Ghislaine Maxwell, Epstein’s longtime associate, ended up in conditions more like a minimum-security setup — something he joked convicted sex offenders rarely see.

He contrasted that with Trump: a 34-time convicted felon who is still running for president, holding rallies, and dominating news cycles. The joke landed, but the implication was chilling: the system bends for certain people.

Pritzker reinforced that theme without theatrics. He listed Trump’s threats against governors, reporters, and opponents — and pointed out that none had materialized.

He called Trump’s behavior “theatrics of insecurity,” a way to control the narrative when he can’t earn respect. When Trump labeled Chicago a “killing field,” Pritzker responded with a straight line that instantly went viral:

“Mr. President, do not come to Chicago. You are neither wanted here nor needed here.”

That wasn’t outrage. It was a boundary.

Meanwhile, Kimmel turned Trump’s anger into satire, reenacting him storming around rooms, demanding applause for normal behavior like eating lunch or finishing a sentence. It was funny, but also revealing. Kimmel showed Trump as someone who doesn’t just enjoy approval — he expects it as a default setting.

As the show moved on, Kimmel even turned Trump’s attack on late-night hosts into fuel. Trump had cheered Stephen Colbert’s network troubles and hinted that Kimmel would be “next to go.”

Instead of backing down, Kimmel turned the threat into content, laughing that Trump behaves like the judge of a talent show no one auditioned for.

Pritzker’s final psychological breakdown of Trump hit even harder.
He described Trump as a man who:

• Turns mundane moments into imaginary victories.
• Sees every disagreement as betrayal.
• Uses power not to govern, but to punish.

To Trump, Pritzker suggested, the world is not a country.
It is an audience.

Kimmel and Pritzker may come from different arenas — comedy and politics — but on this night, they sent the same message:

A leader who relies on fear, threats, and deflection is not untouchable.
He’s predictable.

And once people stop being afraid and start calling that behavior out — on a stage, in a studio, or in a governor’s office — the power behind those threats begins to crumble in real time.