In a spectacle that had viewers questioning if they tuned into Saturday Night Live instead of a presidential debate, Kamala Harris and Donald Trump took the stage last night, armed not with policy briefs but with a arsenal of one-liners sharper than a tax auditor's pencil. The event, moderated by a visibly exasperated panel, quickly devolved from a battle of ideas into a battle of wits—or lack thereof—as both candidates treated substantive questions like they were allergic to them.

Trump kicked things off by dodging a query on economic reform with a tangent about how Harris's laugh sounds like a hyena on helium. Not to be outdone, Harris fired back, suggesting Trump's hairdo was a national security risk, potentially hiding classified documents. The audience, a mix of supporters and undecided voters, alternated between cheers and groans, wondering if this was democracy or just a really bad improv show.

As the night wore on, topics like healthcare and immigration were mentioned in passing, only to be steamrolled by personal jabs. Trump accused Harris of being 'soft on crime,' while she retorted that his idea of law and order was ordering fast food from behind bars. Moderators tried valiantly to steer the conversation back to facts, but it was like herding cats on caffeine—utterly futile.

One highlight—or lowlight, depending on your perspective—came when Trump boasted about his crowd sizes, claiming his rallies were bigger than Woodstock. Harris quipped that at least Woodstock had peace and love, unlike Trump's events, which she likened to a demolition derby. The exchange left policy wonks in the audience clutching their pearls, as visions of detailed white papers danced out of reach.

By the end of the debate, it was clear that zingers had won the night, leaving actual governance strategies in the dust. Viewers at home were left entertained but enlightened about as much as a reality TV marathon. As the candidates shook hands (or was that a fist bump?), one thing was certain: in this election, comedy is king, and policies are just the court jesters.

Political analysts are now scrambling to decode the 'debate' for any hidden meanings, but most agree it's like finding nutrition in junk food—possible, but not probable. Meanwhile, social media exploded with memes, turning every dodge and zinger into viral gold. Who needs manifestos when you have Twitter threads?

In a post-debate poll conducted by NNTN's fictional research arm, 75% of respondents said they'd vote based on who had the best burns, while only 10% cared about boring stuff like the economy. The remaining 15% were too busy laughing to answer.