In the glittering chaos of international diplomacy, where handshakes are scripted and smiles are sharper than steak knives, Donald Trump’s whirlwind Asia trip has been less “world leader” and more “world’s most demanding tourist.” Kicking off amid a U.S. government shutdown that’s left federal workers scraping by on IOUs, the president jetted off to schmooze with allies, score some swag, and remind everyone why his Twitter feed feels like a fever dream. But nothing – and I mean nothing – topped his South Korea stopover on October 29, 2025. What unfolded there wasn’t just a state visit; it was a full-on coronation ceremony, complete with blaring ’70s disco and a golden crown so ostentatious, it could blind satellites. And trust me, when Stephen Colbert got wind of it on The Late Show that very night, the knives came out – hilariously, mercilessly, and with a side of ketchup.

Let’s rewind the tape on this royal rumble. Trump touched down in Gyeongju, the ancient capital of the Silla Kingdom, for the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) leaders’ summit. The air was crisp, the stakes were high – trade deals, North Korea tensions, the usual geopolitical gumbo. But instead of a somber military band striking up “Hail to the Chief,” the South Korean hosts cranked up… wait for it… “YMCA.” Yes, the Village People’s 1978 disco anthem that’s become Trump’s de facto rally soundtrack, complete with those iconic arm-waving dance moves. Picture uniformed soldiers grooving to “Y-M-C-A” as Air Force One taxis in. It’s like if the Queen of England rolled up to Buckingham Palace with a boombox blasting “Macarena.” Surreal? Absolutely. Undercutting the solemnity of a presidential arrival? Colbert nailed it: “I know that’s kind of his song at this point, but it really undercuts the gravity of an official presidential occasion.”

If the musical mismatch was the appetizer, the main course was pure Trump bait: a lavish gift straight out of a fairy tale gone fast-food. South Korean President Lee Jae-myung, in a bid to butter up the notoriously thin-skinned commander-in-chief, bestowed upon him the Grand Order of Mugunghwa – the country’s highest civilian honor, symbolized by a massive replica of a golden Silla crown. This isn’t some cheap plastic tiara from a dollar store; we’re talking a gleaming, jewel-encrusted behemoth evoking the opulent dynasties of yore, weighing enough to give a neck brace a workout. And the timing? Ironic doesn’t even cover it. Just days earlier, millions across America had flooded the streets in “No Kings” protests, railing against Trump’s perceived power grabs and authoritarian vibes. Here comes South Korea, handing him literal headwear for the monarchy. Subtle as a sledgehammer.

But Colbert, ever the master of the surgical strike, didn’t stop at the optics. Oh no. He dove headfirst into the absurdity with his signature blend of wit, impressions, and zero-fucks-given commentary. “I’m not gonna say the Koreans brown-nosed him,” he quipped, eyes twinkling with mischief, “but they got so far up there, I’m pretty sure they snorted one of his tonsils.” The studio audience erupted – that perfect mix of gasps and guffaws that only Colbert can conjure. He wasn’t done, though. The real gut-punch came with the lunch menu: a “deconstructed” hamburger platter featuring mini beef patties slathered in ketchup, a not-so-subtle nod to Trump’s well-documented fast-food fetishes (remember his White House McDonald’s photo-op?). “They gave Donald Trump the only thing he’s missing at this point: a big golden crown,” Colbert deadpanned. “And their official lunch featured mini beef patties with ketchup. They’re literally making him the Burger King!”

Cue the impression: Colbert donned a comically oversized crown prop, puffing out his cheeks and adopting Trump’s signature pout. “Your Majesty, would you like fries with that throne?” he bellowed in a spot-on Orange Man voice, waving an imaginary scepter shaped like a Big Mac. The bit escalated into a full-blown riff on Trump as “Reverse Santa Claus” – zipping around the globe, hoovering up gifts from every stop, while back home, elves (read: essential workers) toiled without pay. “You want to stay as far away from his lap as possible,” Colbert added, shuddering for effect. It was peak Colbert: layered, lacerating, and laced with just enough absurdity to make you laugh through the cringe.

This wasn’t Colbert’s first swing at Trump’s globetrotting ego trip. Earlier in the monologue, he skewered the entire Asia tour as a “shutdown sideshow,” with Trump playing gift-grabby uncle at family reunions. Japan? They handed over high-tech gadgets and a ceremonial sword. China? Rare earth minerals and a pandas-on-loan sweetener. But South Korea took the cake – or the Whopper – by leaning so hard into Trump’s quirks, it bordered on parody. Late-night peers piled on too. Over on Late Night, Seth Meyers dubbed it “the royal treatment he so desperately craves,” while Jimmy Kimmel likened Trump to “President Furious George,” the escaped orangutan from Curious George, terrorizing Seoul with demands for more bling. Desi Lydic on The Daily Show even staged a mock “No Crowns” protest outside the embassy. The collective late-night takedown? It’s like watching a pride of lions toy with a gazelle – entertaining, inevitable, and a tad ferocious.

Yet beneath the hilarity lurks a sharper edge. Trump’s Asia jaunt, ostensibly about bolstering alliances against North Korea’s missile antics and China’s economic shadowboxing, feels increasingly like a personal victory lap. The crown, in particular, amplifies the “king” narrative his critics love to loathe – especially post-“No Kings” marches that drew parallels to historical strongmen. South Korea, ever the savvy diplomat, knows the score: Flattery gets you everywhere in the Trump era. President Lee’s team likely saw the gift as a cultural olive branch, nodding to Korea’s storied history while stroking the ego of a leader who once tweeted that he alone could fix global woes. But in execution? It handed comedians like Colbert a gift-wrapped punchline on a silver platter. “Who needs diplomacy when you’ve got disco and drive-thru?” Colbert mused, before pivoting to Trump’s snub of Canadian PM Mark Carney at a multi-leader dinner. “We didn’t come to South Korea to see Canada!” Trump reportedly posted, turning a summit into a middle-school cafeteria spat.

As the laughs fade, though, what’s the real takeaway? For Colbert, it’s a reminder of the toddler-in-chief’s unquenchable thirst for validation – crowns, crowds, or ketchup-fied cuisine. At 61, the Late Show host has built a career on puncturing pomposity, from his Daily Show Correspondents’ Dinner eviscerations to post-2016 salvos that turned grief into glee. This crown roast fits right in: A 7-minute monologue segment that’s already racked up millions of YouTube views, spawning memes of Trump photoshopped atop Burger King logos and crown-wearing Elmo puppets. Fans are eating it up – pun intended – with comments flooding in: “Colbert just knighted the shade game” and “Trump’s new title: Lord of the Fries.”

But here’s the kicker that keeps you scrolling: Is this all harmless fun, or a symptom of deeper diplomatic desperation? Allies like South Korea, juggling U.S. tariffs and shutdown fallout, might be overcompensating to keep the dragon appeased. Trump, for his part, lapped it up, tweeting a crown-emoji string that read like a drunk uncle’s Vegas recap. As his tour barrels toward summits in Vietnam and Indonesia, expect more baubles, more banter, and more Colbert clips going viral. Will another host top the “Burger King” burn? Or has Stephen set the bar so high, it’s time for late night to crown him the real monarch of mockery?