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BREAKING NEWS - Famous celebrity Taylor Swift hunched over the elegant $3.2 million solid gold crib and shat her firstborn child right onto the pillow. Her and celebrity chef husband Guy Fieri’s horrid demon baby was born perfectly clean without any blood, the way all celebrities are born. The newborn did not cry, instead speaking perfect English and politely asking the nurse for a pumpkin spiced latte and an unfiltered cigarette. 

The singer’s post-natal figure returned to its slender celebrity form seconds after the delivery, tightening into a ripped six-pack that frightened the family dog so badly it fled into the basement. The baby was immediately sold to Todd Penisfingers of The Penisfingers Agency, the highest bidding member of the paparazzi. The Hollywood power couple held a press conference five minutes after the birth to announce the baby’s name. 

“As you’re all aware, our baby is more special than non-famous babies, and must have a more special name,” said Swift, jabbing a photographer in the eye with a fireplace poker for getting too close to the podium. “My dignified husband said the baby deserves a majestic name that thunders through the crevasse of the human mind, opening third eyes and instilling deep meaning into the very fabric of the universe itself. That is why we have chosen to name our baby “P****flaps’”, after the inventor of the NutriBullet blender, Frederick P****flaps’.”

The name has received a tidal wave of criticism since its announcement, with over 3,000 people calling social services and asking to have the baby put into foster care. Time Magazine called it the dumbest name since singer Jessica Simpson named her baby “Walmart” a few days after 9/11. The Atlantic discovered that the name P****flaps’ is actually owned by Warner Brothers. It was one of the trademarked characters included as part of the studio’s Hanna-Barbara acquisition. 

Halfway through the press conference, Fieri sharted himself - as he does every day - and was excused to change into a fresh pair of black track pants with flames sewn down the side. 
Once out of view of the crowd, Fieri climbed out the window of the bathroom and leapt from the edge of the 60-story penthouse apartment, hurtling toward the dense city below. Fieri curled himself into a tight ball as he fell, his frosted tips shattering the skylight below as he crashed through it. He landed on a pile of civilians, killing all of them instantly. After spending three or four minutes carefully fixing his hair and reapplying product, Fieri entered the United Nations building through its secret underground entrance, eventually emerging through the toilet in Ambassador Nikki Haley’s office. 

“Thank you for your tremendous service, Guy Fieri. You have saved our nation,” said Haley, loudly breaking wind from behind her desk as a show of either dominance or respect. “The United States was in crisis. Americans were suffering from unprecedented levels of stress due to the current administration. Sooner or later the public’s aggression would have boiled over into a revolution. We needed a celebrity distraction, something hilarious and stupid that the nation could join together in hating. If you hadn’t named your baby P****flaps’, giving the entire country an outlet for their aggression, there would have been nationwide riots and looting. Our televisions deliver endless war, famine and injustice, all in perfect high definition. Human beings were not designed to carry so many of this world’s burdens at once. I’m glad we have celebrities like you who s**t themselves in public and name their babies after things they like eating. You’re the stupidest celebrity we know, and our nation owes you a tremendous debt. Thank you.”

Haley then offered Fieri a blowjob, to which he grimaced and declined. Back at the Swift household, the press conference continued. 
“Remember that song A Boy Named Sue?” said Swift. “Well just think how much stronger that boy would have been if he had been named Pussyflaps. Thank you and have a lovely evening. I know I will, because I’ll be spending it caressing my sweet P****flaps’.”
Few people know that beneath the exterior of this country exists a group of selfless, noble heroes whose sole purpose is to distract us from all these atrocities. They shield us and protect our nation’s mental health by volunteering to act as our communal punching bag. This force that protects our nation is celebrities.

Fieri returned a few minutes before the press conference ended. Once the couple was alone, Swift toppled Fieri to the floor, ravishing him as a reward for saving the day. They spent the next blissful 90 seconds doing all sorts of gross sex things, with all kinds of weird Guy Fieri secretions squirting all over the place, rivers of it beading down his drenched ‘90s goatee and splattering all over Swift each time he sloppily rubbed his body against hers like a wet donkey in heat. As he climaxed alone, Fieri shouted “Frosted tips all around!”