Last night’s Regina King-hosted Saturday Night Live saw the return of the good old political cold open, and although Alex Moffat’s Joe Biden remains at large, the actor did get to play Fox News white supremacy megaphone Tucker Carlson. (Introducing the jubilant at just having acquitted a former president who tried to have them murdered so he could stay in power GOP senators, played by Kate McKinnon, Aidy Bryant, and Beck Bennett.) Still, there was plenty of satirical shenanigans to go around throughout the show, with McKinnon returning on Weekend Update as a suspiciously warty and green-fleshed lady who promised co-anchor Colin Jost the real skinny about QAnon.
You know QAnon. The internet-birthed conspiracy gibberish infecting your dumbest and most gullible racist relatives that claims, among other idiotic and dangerous things, that rich Democrats and famous people are cooking and eating babies, possibly in the basement of your local pizza joint? That one. Anyway, McKinnon, affecting an appropriately witchy, sing-song cadence, assured Jost that she, one Stephanie Green—merely another “single gal from Ohio”—is only researching this Q business in order to find those succulent, cool ranch-flavored babies. To save. From the evil Hollywood elite. Explaining that she’d recently been Skyping with a guy who’d assured her that this whole baby-eating this was on the up-and-up (right after he told Stephanie Jessica Chastain was the devil and right before he showed her his penis), Ms. Green was adamant that she would not rest until she got right to the bottom of that whole delicious, delicious baby thing.
Or, at least, that’s what she’d like to think. Confiding at last to Jost that she, like a lot of the QAnon faithful and violently unstable, have started to have their suspicions. You know, since the entity known as Q hasn’t posted since Donald Trump lost (and his resultant, GOP-approved coup attempt failed), and because, well, the whole thing is a huge, steaming mound of simple-minded horseshit. Confessing, to Jost’s great non-shock, that’s she’s actually a witch named Grismelda who (unsuccessfully of late) lures unwary children to her New Hampshire candy house, the depressed woman ultimately just shrugged. “At least I can get the vaccine now,” Grismelda consoled herself. (She is in that 400-year-old high risk demographic.) Plus, there’s always Chipotle.