America’s in trouble.
In the far-flung future of 1998, paper money is worthless, there’s no oil, and the country is about to be foreclosed and repossessed by the original landowners.
That would be Nike (the National Indian Knitting Enterprise), who invested well, happy to prove revenge is a dish best served cold.
Enter a hippy-dippy new president, who calls for a telethon, using reality TV to shake the loose change from the pockets of his constituents.
Which shouldn’t be hard since the national craze is for everyone to wear sweat pants.
Stupid and barbed in equal measure, this deserves rediscovery.