Historical Roasts

Hi, everybody! How the hell are ya?

Hit the music.

Get the flags out.

- -

'Cause tonight, we're roasting my favorite president,

Abraham Lincoln!

No one's trying to pull down Lincoln's statues.

For 150 years, he's remained scandal-free

and true to that nickname, "Honest Abe."

Always a gentleman,

even his war was civil.

If by civil, you mean 750,000 people died.

Six hundred thousand died in battle

and the rest died from dysentery.

Laugh, or I'll give you dysentery.

So in Abe's honor,

I keep a framed Library of Congress portrait

over my toilet.

But the good news is, I've been holding it in all day

just to dump on old Abe tonight.

So, with no further a-doo-doo jokes,

It's time to roast

Abraham stinkin'...

Lincoln!

My name is Jeff Ross. They call me the Roastmaster General.

Tonight, The Historical Roasting Society honors Abraham Lincoln,

and his roasters, here they come,

Mary Todd Lincoln...

Harriet Tubman...

and John Wilkes Booth.

We love you, Lincoln!

All rise for America's greatest president and vampire hunter.

He's tall, he's lean, he's a slave-freeing machine,

Abraham no-middle-name Lincoln!

Ah.

Wow.

General Ross.

Mr. President, what an honor to meet you, sir.

Is it a pleasure to meet you?

-Here's some pennies. -

-I don't know... -Thank you, Mr. President.

-Please, have a seat. -Thank you, sir.

This is exciting.

Are you ready for this, Mr. President?

Fire away.

Bad...

Bad choice of words.

I can't believe I'm meeting the Great Emancipator,

and the old Rail Splitter, which is also...

John Stamos' name on Grindr.

But Mr. President,

to history, you are and always will be "Honest Abe,"

a name you got as a young shopkeeper.

Story goes,

you once accidentally short-changed a customer,

and walked six miles just to return a few pennies.

When that man realized how far you walked,

he thanked you, and then he took those pennies.

And he bought himself another slave.

Mr. Lincoln, because of you,

men and women can no longer be sold to the highest bidder.

Unless, of course, they're trying to get elected to the senate.

You had a hard life, Mr. President.

Mr. Lincoln, when you were nine, your mother,

Nancy Hanks Lincoln, died of milk sickness.

Her expiration date was October 5th, 1818.

You watched as your mom died,

your brother died, and your sister died.

The first woman you fell in love with died.

When the country was killing itself, you watched two of your sons die.

The curse on your name runs so deep,

on the way over here, my Lincoln Navigator died.

Mr. President, and this is true, folks,

when you were young, you were a champion wrestler.

In 300 matches, you were only beaten once...

by the ugly stick.

While you were at it, Mr. Lincoln, you should've emancipated

that mole from your fucking face.

At 6'5", you're our tallest president.

You could've been one of the greatest basketball players of all time

if you hadn't... done what you did.

After the gruesome battle of Gettysburg, the war reached a turning point.

It was then you gave your most famous speech:

The Gettysburg Address.

"Four score and seven years ago

our fathers brought forth on this continent

a new nation conceived in liberty

and dedicated to the proposition

that all men are created equal."

-Beautiful. -Ha!

The speech only lasted two minutes,

which Mary Todd said was the usual.

Mr. President, you did something no modern president has accomplished.

You accomplished stuff.

I only roast the ones I love, and I love you, Abraham Lincoln.

You not only preserved the union and abolished slavery,

but thanks to you, one day a year,

we get 25 percent off on TVs and pickup trucks!

USA! USA!

USA! USA!

USA!

Now it's time to let a few other people take a shot at you.

Our main accomplishment was remodeling the White House,

or what it's known today,

the Russian Embassy.

Here she is, the 16th first lady of these United States,

Mary Todd Lincoln!

Thank you, Jeff.

Look at all these white men. Is this a roast

or a meeting on women's reproductive rights?

Thank you for the Xanax, Mr. Ross.

Of course.

Why, to my blue eyes,

you more resemble a Yankee soldier who ate a Rebel Wilson.

Harriet, it's nice to see you again.

Harriet is a legend.

Single-handedly responsible for the headwear of the Crips.

When Abraham and I were first wed,

he was a strapping young lad,

who could swing an ax and plow a field

with the strength of five men.

I wish he had plowed my field more, but...

as Abraham told me,

he and his life-long friend, Joshua Speed,

had important work to do during their moonlit strolls,

candle-lit dinners and sleepovers.

Why sleep in my bed when you could sleep in Joshua's bed

in a completely customary, normal way at the time?

You know, they hit you faster when you chew 'em.

- Yes, Mary! - Get him, Mary!

People often fantasize about beddin' a president.

I know I did.

But on the rare occasion we coupled in the biblical sense,

I must admit, my mind would drift to fantasies

of the dashing, young,

preeminent thespian of our time,

John Wilkes Stamos.

My husband famously said,

"A house divided cannot stand."

Too bad he didn't say,

"A Full House divided cannot reboot."

You know it hits you faster when you snort it.

When I met my husband, I was dating, among other men,

his political opponent, Stephen A. Douglas.

I wasn't sleeping around, though,

because it took four and a half hours to get all my undergarments off.

It was easier if we just sucked their cocks.

Now, of course, in those days,

a lady did not swallow.

She saved it in a piece of cheesecloth

and made biscuits with it in the morning.

We called them "come-rolls,"

and they were delicious.

The Cinnabons of their time.

Indeed, I cried hysterically

from migraines, depression, mood swings.

So they institutionalized me,

like I'm some crazy bitch!

Well, I'm not crazy.

I'm not!

I just didn't realize that once the slaves were freed,

we women were gonna have to pick up the slack!

I had to bake my own come biscuits.

I just need something to take the edge off.

Jeff, can you help me?

Thank you.

You know... It was hard,

but it was my life.

And despite my husband being shot,

and my children dying,

and my opium addiction, and being institutionalized,

I wouldn't change a thing.

Mary Todd Lincoln, everybody.

Thank you, Jeff.

You want me to-- You gonna make it?

I'm fine.

Mary, here's some money for some more pills.

That's 13 cents, you asshole.

Wow, still some tension in the marriage, I see.

Your speech should have been "Four score and three inches ago."

Our next roaster is best remembered for freeing the slaves

in the Underground Railroad, also known as the "Tubway."

Donald Trump might have bumped her off the 20,

but she's money to us. Here she is...

Harriet Tubman.

Now, I realize most of you only know me

as the black woman from your history books.

Yeah, the one you used to draw a mustache on.

Well, quit that shit!

And stop talking about my looks.

When I was 59 years old,

I married a man who was 22 years younger than me.