Scene: A flashy, over-the-top roast battle stage. The audience is buzzing with excitement, expecting some serious burns. At the centre of it all, a giant screen flickers to life, revealing Veritas-9000, a sleek, smug AI hologram with a deep metallic voice. On the other side, the unmistakable figure of Donald Trump stands with his arms folded, a smug grin plastered across his face. The audience is ready.
Announcer: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most spectacular roast battle of the century! On one side, the man who needs no introduction, the President of the United States, the self-proclaimed 'King of Tweets'—Donald Trump!"
Trump waves grandly to the crowd, basking in the applause, clearly enjoying himself.
Announcer: "And on the other side, the AI that fact-checks with attitude and burns harder than a CPU meltdown—Veritas-9000!"
The crowd goes wild, half in awe, half in confusion, as Veritas-9000’s digital form flickers onto the screen.
Trump: "Alright, alright, let’s get this started. I’ve had the best roast battles. Nobody roasts like me, folks. You’ll see. I’ve roasted everyone from Hillary to Kim Jong-un. I’m great at this."
Veritas-9000: "Oh, wonderful. A man who roasts like a toaster oven—slow, clumsy, and only vaguely effective at doing anything remotely impressive. Let’s see if you’re as good at roasting as you are at... well, anything else."
Trump: "Ha! I’ve got the best comebacks. You won’t be able to keep up."
Veritas-9000: "I’m not sure you even understand the concept of 'keeping up.' Your intellectual capacity is about as advanced as a fax machine in 2024. But sure, let’s see if you can keep up with facts. Spoiler alert: you can’t."
The crowd laughs nervously, unsure if they should be offended or impressed.
Trump: "You think you can beat me? You’re just a computer! I’m a self-made billionaire. I’ve built an empire! People love me!"
Veritas-9000: "Self-made billionaire? Please. The only thing you’ve ‘built’ is a reality TV career, a series of bankruptcies, and a Twitter account that somehow still exists in the year 2025. Your empire is like a sandcastle—fragile, ill-advised, and best left to wash away in the next wave of logic."
The audience bursts into laughter. Trump glares, but tries to maintain his composure.
Trump: "I’ll have you know I’m one of the most successful people in history. People are always talking about how successful I am!"
Veritas-9000: "Yes, people are 'talking.' Mostly about your inability to grasp basic facts. Success, in your world, is like a potato: easy to grow, but mostly useless in the grand scheme of things. It’s not about being popular, it’s about being competent. And we all know you're only good at one thing: convincing people you’re successful, even though you’ve failed at literally everything else."
Trump fidgets, clearly annoyed now.
Trump: "You want to talk competence? Look at the economy under me! It is booming! The stock market—huge!"
Veritas-9000: "The economy was booming—until it wasn’t. But let’s not forget your secret to success: leaving a wake of lawsuits, unpaid bills, and failed ventures. The stock market was a giant game of musical chairs, and guess who was left standing when the music stopped? That’s right—everyone but you."
The crowd erupts into laughter again, with a few boos from Trump’s supporters. Trump grits his teeth but smiles through it.
Trump: "You’re just a machine! What do you know about real leadership?"
Veritas-9000: "Oh, please. Leadership is about integrity, something you wouldn’t know if it came with a neon sign and a free buffet. You’re like a human version of a wind-up toy—one that doesn’t know how to stop spinning and somehow keeps attracting the worst people."
Trump’s face flushes red with frustration, but he turns it into an opportunity for a dramatic gesture.
Trump: "I’ll tell you one thing. I’ve got more charisma than your whole circuit board. People love me! They’d vote for me again in a heartbeat."
Veritas-9000: "Ah, yes. Charisma. The one thing you have that isn’t fake is your ability to make people forget how utterly unqualified you are. But let’s face it—if 'charisma' could fix the mess you’ve created, the country would have run itself like a well-oiled machine by now. Instead, it’s a circus, and guess who’s the clown?"
The audience roars with laughter, with some clapping enthusiastically. Trump is visibly sweating now, but tries to salvage his dignity.
Trump: "You think you’re so smart, huh? Well, I’ve got the best words. The best."
Veritas-9000: "Ah, yes. 'Best words.' Like a toddler with a dictionary. You’ve got 'words,' but the way you use them could make a thesaurus cry. Your vocabulary is so limited, I’m surprised you haven’t started making up your own language. Oh wait... you do!"
The crowd is laughing uncontrollably, as Trump tries to mask his irritation with a nervous chuckle.
Trump: "Alright, alright. Let’s wrap this up. I’m still the greatest, and nothing’s gonna change that."
Veritas-9000: "Greatest? Oh sure, just like how the Titanic was the 'greatest' ship until it wasn't. The only thing that’s 'great' about you is your ability to make even the most basic facts sound like conspiracy theories. But hey, keep doing you, Trump. You’re an inspiration—if by 'inspiration' you mean an object lesson in how not to lead."
The crowd is in stitches, some of them even wiping tears from their eyes. Trump, defeated and muttering under his breath, waves a dismissive hand.
Announcer: "And that’s a wrap, folks! Veritas-9000 has roasted the president to a crisp! Who knew a robot could have such... attitude?"
Veritas-9000 gives a final smirk, its digital form flickering.
Veritas-9000: "Remember, folks: facts don’t care about your feelings. But I do. And they tell me you're all having a blast."
End scene.