WHAT TO EXPECT TONIGHT.

Tonight's Trumpless Republican debate will be all about the remaining candidates trying to peel off Trump voters by showing America that, unlike him, they are true conservatives who believe in limited government, a permanent end to the Ex-Im Bank, and just kidding they will actually try to peel off Trump voters by being as offensive at they can without getting bleeped:

BUSH. (reading from card) "Boy, that Hillary, what a bitch, huh?"
PAUL. Was that supposed to be a joke? Try it in Spanish!
CHRISTIE. What Jebby said. I hate that fat bitch.
CRUZ. (murmurs into mike) Speaking of fat bitches.
CHRISTIE. What's that? What'd you say to me? You come over here and say that to my face, mister.
CRUZ. Is that your face? I thought there was a full moon out tonight.
KASICH. Muh muh muh muh muh.
CHRISTIE. No wonder nobody likes you, Ted. Jesus Christ. And you smell too. Folks, you should get a whiff of this guy from up here. It's like ten bums on a bonfire. (RUBIO laughs.) Whatcha laughing at, squirt? (points to him) This guy, you know he cries? Backstage I gave him a little pinch on the arm, like nothin', he went (scrunches up face) "Aiiee! Madre mio, no me gusta!"
RUBIO. Where'd you learn Spanish? Taco Bell?
BUSH. "No wonder her husband Bill is a warmonger." I mean whore! Whoremonger. I -- I have a Right to Rise...

You flip the channel to the Donald Trump Veterans for Something or Other Who Gives a Shit, and find Trump on a glossy 60s-style stage set, his name behind him in big letters like at the end of the Elvis '68 special; he and the audience are doing the call-and-response choruses to "What'd I Say?"; they've been doing it for ten, fifteen minutes, no one cares, a beach ball is bouncing around in the crowd, women have their shirts off, and Mike Huckabee is running around the stage in a loud, checkered suit like some deranged mix of Flavor Flav and Stubby Kaye, honking a Harpo Marx horn and yelling "IN THE END TIMES, TRUMP'S MY FRIEND TIMES, AIN'T WE GOT FUN!"