RYAN: This....is..... American Idol, Presidential Candidates Week!
RYAN: First up, John McCain.
RANDY: Yo, dawg, you's old. Like real old. I'm just not feelin' it. I mean, this is the top three, yo! I expect you to come with more than just promises of more right-wing justices and 100-year wars. I don't know, dawg. I don't know. But you is old. I know that much.
PAULA: John, I like you. I've been a fan of yours for years. But you've changed over the past 7 years. Remember when you were the maverick? Remember when you didn't vote for Bush in 2000? Now you'll do just about anything to win this thing. And lord knows your healthcare plan ain't gonna make my pills cheaper! I'm sorry honey, but it wasn't good.
SIMON: John. I don't even know where to start. You look like you just walked out of the Men's Wearhouse, your face is all jacked up looking on the side, and it's clear you love war. I think you are dreadful, awful, talentless, and a suck-up. What? It's true. He is. You cleary detached your ball sack about 4 years ago. All so you could have a shot of winning this thing by convincing scared, old, white, poor, —did I mention scared?—people that you can somehow get them back to a simpler time when wars were fought between armies and everyone got married at 19. Maybe 30 years ago, but not now, John. I'd be real nervous if I was you. But hey, do me a favor and raise your arms over your head. See, you can't. What? It's true. He can't.
RYAN: Ok, not a good week for John. Up next, Hillary Clinton. Hillary Clinton
RANDY: Yo, yo, yo dude. Man, I'm not feeling it. America's not feelin' it. The world's not feelin' it. You're all over the place. One week it's gas tax cuts, the next it's doing shots, the next it's talking in the back of a pick up truck, meanwhile you can't work a coffee machine but all the while you're a mega-millionaire. It was off key,it was pitchy and I don't even know what you did to the melody. I'm sorry, but it wasn't good. Not good at all.
PAULA: Hillary, you know you're my girl. But something's missing. You're not right up here [points to her head]. You're so desperate to win you're not having any fun. And neither are we. No one is. In fact, I kind of want to kill myself when I see you. Then again, it could be pills. But I'm pretty sure it's you.
SIMON: Hillary, I'm gonna make this simple. I do not like you. You are desperate, you are petty and everyone here and at home can smell it. Listening to you talk on and on is like nails on a chalkboard. Only they're not just scratching, they're scratching out that dreadful Macarena song. Only they're not just nails they're those nails from the Guiness Book that are like three feet long. Only before they were scratching they were picking out belly button lint. From Mike Huckabee's belly button. Back when he was fat. So it was deep. And real linty. Like he'd been wearing a navy blue sweatshirt for like a week. What? It's true. It was dreadful. It was a disaster. I'd pack my suitcase if I was you. It's over.
RYAN: Wow, it's gonna be tough to come back from that. Ok, next is Barack Obama. Barack Obama
RANDY: Dawg, that was the hot mad vocals! That victory speech in North Carolina was the bomb! You my dawg! You killed it! You're the man to beat as far as I'm concerned. The booooooomb!
PAULA: [already crying, heavily] Barack, I've loved you since you stepped on this stage. You give me more hope than pills ever could. I love you, I love you, I love you....[cut off by Simon]
SIMON: Barack, you not only beat the competition, you crushed it. You are a star, you are an inspiration and you were born to be president and if America does not get over their racist tendencies and see the light enough to elect you I am gonna go back to England. And Howard is probably going with me.
HOWARD: True dat, dawg. We don't vote this guy in and I am done with this place. Oh and happy birthday, mom!
RYAN: Join us next week when we find out who the final two will be. Or maybe the next week. Whenever Hillary figures out what everyone else already knows: she's not the next American President.