President Curtis

Susan: I don't know how much clearer we can be.

The Party doesn't care about you kicking Mothman

into high-voltage fencing.

Where's our infrastructure bill?

Where's our Supreme Court stacking?

Susan, come on, it's my job to eliminate fear.

That piece of shit's been flying around,

mothballing cheerleaders for decades.

Andre, I know you don't think you work for The Party,

but we sure as fuck don't work for you.

Your job is to support our interests.

Bye, Andre.

Yeah okay, bye.

Tony, set a meeting with The Party...

I'm starting to think we shouldn't support Curtis

for re-election.

Party Leader: Totally. He's a fluke one-termer.

- - Did you hear that?

You think he's still on the call?

Quietly listening as insecurity sets in?

- Ugh. - Banks: Well, that went well.

Oh, my god, this is why I waved you out of the office.

Sir, why didn't you tell me about that call?

It's my job to help with Party drama.

You think I give a shit about The Party?

When you need to know something, you'll know.

Like now. You should know I gotta piss.

[ Pee trickling, toilet flushes ]

Mysterious woman: Come see me.

Hello?

Are you afraid?

You're weak.

You have a little dick and balls.

Shit.

- I'm just saying... - Seriously, Banks?

- Outside the bathroom? - Well you walked away before.

Gather the staff. We're going to Camp David.

Camp David? You're taking a vacation now?

We leave in twenty.

Ugh.

Don't ever stand around waiting for him, okay?

- That's my thing. - How long were you behind me?

If you're asking if I heard you fart, the answer is yes.

Are you trying to fart again, what is wrong with you?

"She can't touch you." Yeah no shit, Truman.

"Always jerk off before you go,"

how is that advice, Clinton?

Useless.

Should I read that too?

Oh, are you a President?

Because it's a book passed down between Presidents.

What are you, five? Just tell me what's going on.

When summoned to Camp David, a President must undergo

a test of mental will at the hands of

an ancient witch named "David".

We're coming here to mind duel with a witch?

Not us, him.

Alone, again.

Solitarily.

Oh, my god, guys, it's nothing.

She can't even touch me.

I just have to make it to sunrise

without surrendering my kingdom.

- Uhh... - She's ancient.

The terminology hasn't aged well.

- Driver: Sir? -

We're here.

I thought it was a test of mental will,

- why am I staring at his bare ass? - Part of the ritual.

Apparently the pact was made by Roosevelt,

the wheelchair one not the mustache one.

If you pass the test, she remains tethered here.

Hey. You think he's gonna fire me?

- What? - Curtis. I dunno...

Feels like he's not telling me things on purpose.

His job isn't to tell you shit.

I've asked a lot about the witch

and all he's told me is she's basically

like a sexy roast comic.

Nothing to fear. See you nerds after sunrise.

So that's it?

He just peaces out until morning?

What do we do?

We go to Camp.

Wow.

I've never felt such an urge

to give someone a swirly.

Good luck.

All the toilets here are eco-friendly since Obama.

Ugh, here come The Lifers.

"The Lifers"?

Yeah, White House staffers

who have worked for multiple administrations.

You don't wanna hang with them,

they hate presidents.

What? That's insane, we work with Janice every day.

Just trust me on this one.

They're loyal to the White House,

we're loyal to Curtis.

It's oil and waddles.

- You mean "water"? - Whatever, college.

I'm gonna go sign up for the canoes

before Chomps bogarts all the good shit.

Hey what's up, guys.

Janice, Chef Matteo,

Michael in accounting, Chief Usher Cherri.

Love the jacket. What are those stars?

And an ice cream cone?

Watch out guys,

the new Temp's trying to make small talk.

- Temp. - Dead Temp Walking.

Okay you clearly know my name, I'm your boss.

Yeah, for now.

Look at those pictures. Look at 'em.

Temps like you leech onto a president,

then poof, who gives a shit.

That's why we put go hard

for the nonpartisan side of government,

and let the manchilds rise and fall like the McRib.

This is my eighteenth Camp David.

- Thirteenth. - Twenty-second.

Oh, you know me, I don't Camp and tell.

Hey Cher, just signed us up for axe throwing.

Let's go, pussies.

- Matteo: Whoo-hoo. - Michael: Oh, yeah.

Enjoy it while you can, Temp.

In your job, there's a good chance

this is your last Camp David.

Did I just get bullied?

And did I like it?

[ Animals chattering, Curtis whistling ]

Oh, boy.

Let the games begin.

You've come to challenge me again?

Well, I think you'll like my new form.

Curtis: Whoa... Oh...

Oh, god. O-Okay.

Did you skim an image of a naked woman from my mind

and think, "This, but water balloon carnival game"?

I mean you fully skipped the nipples.

Are you ready to surrender your kingdom to me, Andre?

Quit now, and release me from this pact.

Eh, I think I'll just let you talk shit

and make it to sunrise.

Then you stay trapped here,

and I'll go eat an omelet or something.

Ugh, I know you're just gonna do the jump scare thing.

Are you sure you don't want to kiss me?

Surrender to it.

You're mist. You can't even touch me.

The more you believe, the more tangible I become.

Come on, I got all these boobs.

I'm sorry but, you just look ridiculous.

As you wish.

Curtis: Ah, here we go, twenty bucks says

you're gonna be someone from my family.

Andre?

Oh, my god, you went straight for my mom??

Son, I... I never got to tell you

before I died that you were

a huge disappointment.

My real mom was scarier than that.

Keep talking, you're making me all sentimental.

I worry about him out there.

All alone in those woods.

If you're worried, go check on him.

You think I don't want to?

I'm rowing a canoe in a full suit

just in case Curtis needs me.

- I'm chaffing. - I dunno.

I was talking with the Lifers,

and what they said kinda made sense.

Like, are we putting too much faith

in this one guy?

- Are you fuckin' nuts? - What?

I told you, the Lifers wouldn't care

if Curtis ate glass through his dick.

Dicks don't have mouths.

Then how do we pee?

Who we serve matters, Banks.

You think I'm gonna take a bullet for the next guy?

Maybe the next guy would actually tell us shit.

Oh, my god.

Why don't you just admit that

this isn't about The Lifers at all,

it's about Trent McGaffin.

What? Who's Trent McGaffin?

So you've never seen the other hot guy

who isn't me strutting around the office?

Yeah, right. Unbelievable.

Okay, so he's on a whole different story.

Matteo: Whoo.

Mark it.

Two points for the cheek.

Whattup Lifers. You throwing axes?

Uh, hit the bricks, Temp.

We reserved this spot.

Yeah, well, I was thinking about

what you said and...

Wait, is that a Xerox'd ass?