Surprise appearance from Kamala Harris lights up “Saturday Night Live.”

The Democrats had a great Saturday night. First, the Selzer poll dropped a dream scenario in which Vice President Kamala Harris was three points ahead of the former president Donald Trump In Iowa of all places. Then came news that Harris would be making a surprise appearance Saturday Night Livewhich was probably annoying news Joe Rogan.

During the episode's cold opening, Maya RudolphHarris secretly longed for leadership during the final stretch of her campaign. “I wish I could talk to someone who was in my shoes,” she said before sitting in front of a “mirror” containing the beaming vice president. The crowd's laughter drowned out Harris's first attempt at giving the talk, and then both women sat and marveled at each other, waiting for the audience's nearly minute-long ovation.

When fake Harris needed a pep talk, she got a damn good one. “I’m just here to remind you that you got this,” the real Harris said. “Because you can do something your opponent can’t. You can open doors.” (For women, for history, for garbage trucks.) Oh, those two had a good old cackling laugh. “Now Kamala, take my palm-ala…” Rudolph said. During their wonderful exchange, something genuinely tender and warm flowed between these two, as if Rudolph was pouring all his reserves of energy and kindness into the 60-year-old contestant to take on this final stage. “Keep Kamala and keep it up,” they promised each other. Harris then joined Rudolph on stage, and the two women stood arm in arm, wearing matching black blazers, loose curls, and very understated, very mindful double-strand necklaces. Rudolph couldn't have played a better role, and Harris couldn't have had anyone better for her.

SNL There were forests full of low-hanging fruit that could contrast the sporting fun of Harris' campaign with Trump's increasingly cirrhotic final days. James Austin Johnson played Trump in his orange vest, talking at a MAGA rally about his right to protect women from themselves. “It’s true, when you’re famous you let yourself be protected,” he said. Johnson captured Trump's disgust for work, for his crowds, for his schedule, for the Midwest, for the microphone where he couldn't decide whether he wanted to go to bed or pass out. “The last time I hated a microphone so much, I tried to have him killed. Pence!” he roared. “Who cares, you don’t care, nobody cares.”