💥 BREAKING NEWS: Jimmy Kimmel & Trevor Noah obliterate Trump with a live-TV roasting he never saw coming⚡.CT

Late-night television didn’t just roast Donald Trump this week—it detonated a cultural bomb under his entire political universe. Jimmy Kimmel and Trevor Noah turned Trump’s latest public blunders into a comedic massacre so brutal that even satire struggled to keep up. What unfolded on live TV wasn’t just mockery. It was a demolition of Trump’s image, ego, and every contradictory claim he tried to juggle.
It began with Trump’s new crusade—apparently against Tylenol, of all things. Kimmel joked that the White House now treats a basic painkiller like it’s a national security threat. Then came Trump’s attempt to sell a Tesla like a late-night infomercial host, insisting he would “buy one with my own money” as if anyone believed him. Trevor Noah couldn’t stop laughing: “This is the president of the United States… doing a one-time, limited-offer commercial.”

From there, the takedown accelerated. Trump’s presidency, Noah said, doesn’t resemble a drama or even a tragedy—it plays like an accidental sitcom, complete with plot holes, forgotten lines, and scenes improvised by someone who doesn’t know what the show is about. Kimmel summed it up: Trump behaves like a man who orders a steak, burns down the restaurant, and demands applause for saving the cow.
Then came Trump’s meltdown on social media. Furious that Kimmel is still on air, Trump blasted out a rant that instantly became late-night gold. Noah mocked Trump’s claim that comedians would have “more followers if they moved to the center like me,” pausing to ask: “Center? Like YOU?” The audience erupted.

But the most devastating blow came when both comedians dissected Trump’s relationship with facts. Statistics enter his speeches only to collapse into verbal rubble. His economic boasts sound like a used-car salesman insisting the missing engine is actually a historic innovation. Kimmel joked that fact-checkers should be eligible for combat pay.
Foreign policy fared no better. Kimmel compared Trump’s summits to awkward family reunions where that one uncle tries to impress everyone but ends up embarrassing himself. Noah added that Trump treats diplomacy like a photo-op, believing handshake equals policy and slogans equal strategy.
Domestic policy? Another disaster. Noah pointed out that Trump promised to drain the swamp but instead renovated it into a luxury resort with golf privileges. Every time Trump claimed he represented the working class, another billionaire slipped into his cabinet.
But the most chilling part came from Noah’s warning about Trump refusing to leave office peacefully. “He doesn’t do anything normally,” Noah said. “I wouldn’t be shocked if he just said he wasn’t leaving.” The audience went silent—then nervous laughter followed.
Kimmel shredded Trump’s obsession with ratings, noting that no president should measure tragedies by applause volume. Noah piled on by highlighting Trump’s reliance on social media tantrums as a replacement for leadership. “It’s the world’s worst diary,” Kimmel said. “He doesn’t hide secrets. He shouts them.”

Even Trump’s lawsuit against The New York Times—a wild $15 billion claim—became comedic fodder. Kimmel read Trump’s announcement aloud, noting it sounded less like a legal filing and more like a child inventing numbers to win an argument.
The finale came when Noah replayed Trump bragging about authorizing military strikes while sounding shocked at his own decision. It was the perfect encapsulation of a presidency improvising itself into chaos—a man holding the key to the prison cell while screaming, “We’re all trapped!”
By the end of the segment, the message was clear:
Trump isn’t being mocked because comedians are exaggerating him. He’s being mocked because he has become a parody of himself.
Kimmel and Noah didn’t destroy Trump. Trump supplied the dynamite, the fuse, and the fireworks; the comedians simply lit the match on live TV.




