Gary: …so I said to him, “look, garcon, I don’t care how many I’ve already eaten, these nachos were lukewarm and I ain’t paying for them. Go get your manager.” And he says, “my manager is on vacation.” And I said, “And where exactly does the manager of Boston Pizza go on vacation - Seattle’s Best Coffee?
Third Baseman: (silent)
Gary: Get it?
Third Baseman: Yeah. He likes coffee.
Gary: S’okay, let that one percolate for a bit.
Third Baseman: Look, I don’t mean any disrespect, sir, but I’m trying to pay attention to the game here.
Gary: Oh, relax. Your pitcher takes longer to warm up than an old Inuit prostitute.
Home Plate Umpire: Alright, everybody! Balls in!
Gary: Oh good. Only 54 outs to go.
Home Plate Umpire: Play ball!
(The pitcher steps on the rubber, shakes off a sign and throws. The batter takes a big cut and misses)
Gary: Ha! This guy swings so wildly, his nickname should be “Jen Chambers”. (to Third Baseman) Know who that is? That’s my jock-sniffing whore of an ex. Ha, listen to me. You’re an American male under the age of 30 who has a shirt with a number on the back, and I’m telling you who Jen Chambers is. You probably have her on speed dial.
Third Baseman: Please, sir, I need to focus!
Gary: Alright, alright. Jeez, they should call this the “hotlittle temper corner”.
(The batter lets the pitch go past him for ball one)
Gary: (yawns) God damn it, I hate Des Moines. Thin crowd here tonight, too. Someone must have won $50 on a scratch ticket and taken the whole town out to bingo. How many people do you think are here?
Third Baseman: (silent)
Gary: No more than 200, I’d bet. Which reminds me of my favourite trivia question: back on April 17, 1979, only 653 people showed up in Oakland to watch the Athletics play the Mariners. Name them.
Third Baseman: I can’t. I wasn’t even born then.
Gary: (rolls eyes) Ho boy.
(The batter takes strike two looking)
Gary: (staring at ground) Ugh. This field is a mess. Who’s in charge of the grounds crew here? I’ve seen straighter lines outside a Madonna concert.
Third Baseman: (shakes head incredulously)
Gary: Oh, don’t think I don’t see you there, Schmidthead. You may as well keep shaking that head right on through til tomorrow, because you won’t believe some of the strikes I’m going to call on you when I’m behind the plate.
(The batter cracks the next pitch into the gap)
Gary: Hey now. A little action. We’ll get back to this tête-à-tit in just a second.
(The batter chugs around second, starts heading for third)
Gary: Big fella is in a hurry. (at batter) Hey chief, the airport out of town is back that way!
(Throw comes into third. The batter is out by five feet)
Gary: (throws arms out to sides emphatically) HE’S IN THERE!
Third Baseman: (wide-eyed) ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!
Gary: I’d like to, Chipper, but I don’t know any knock-knock jokes.
Third Baseman: HE WAS OUT BY A MILE!
Gary: Oh, stop exaggerating. It was six, seven feet, tops.
Third Baseman: Did you…did you just admit…
Gary: I admitted nothing. Now get back to your position. (to everyone) Come on, people, let’s get this miles-away-from-the-big show on the road!
(The manager comes storming out of the dugout)
Gary: Uh-oh. What do you think this guy wants?
Manager: (raising two fingers) How many fingers am I holding up?
Gary: You had to come all the way out here to ask that? Don’t you have even one guy in that dugout who finished grade school?
Manager: Very cute. I’m just trying to figure out if you’re blind or just retarded.
Gary: I think you’re confusing me with every woman you’ve ever dated.
Manager: Don’t think I don’t remember you, hotshot. We had you two weeks ago in Omaha.
Gary: Oh yeah?
Manager: Yeah, and I know who you are now, too. (to Third Baseman) Guy’s name is Gary Selig. Three guesses who his uncle is.
Third Baseman: Who?
Manager: Jesus Christ, don’t you play baseball for a living? Morgana the Kissing Bandit, that’s who.
Third Baseman: Isn’t that a woman?
Gary: (to Third Baseman) Sorry, what did you say your Masters was in again?
Manager: Alright, asshole. I don’t care how connected you are, you’ve got no business being in the game of baseball. That guy was out, and you know it, so quit fucking around with other people’s livelihoods.
Gary: Jeez, so much drama. Look, if I call him out, can we be friends again?
Manager: What?
Gary: (turns to runner, yelling emphatically) You are outta here!
Runner: What?
Gary: Sorry. This guy here is being a real stickler about the rules.
Runner: Wait, what do you mean I’m “outta here”? Am I out at third or out of the game?
Gary: Hmm. Good question. Both, I guess.
Runner: I’m out of the game? Why?
Gary: Um…sexual harassment.
Manager: (shaking head) Je-sus Christ…
Runner: WHAT?!?
Gary: Don’t play dumb with me now, buddy. You were pointing and shaking the lumber at me suggestively that entire at-bat.
Runner: Those were my warm-up swings!
Gary: I’ll bet they were. That reminds me, did you hear the one about the old Inuit prostitute?
Manager: This is ridiculous. You’re out of your mind.
Gary: Well, now we’ve got something in common, because you’re out of this game! (surprised) Hey, that one was actually pretty good.
Manager: (walking away) I’m reporting you to the league office for this one, son. I don’t care if your uncle is Abner Doubleday.
Gary: Snitch! (to Third Baseman) How about you, Gruber? You want to get tossed? It’s only 7:30, you can still make the bumper cars at Adventureland before it closes.
(Opposing team’s manager comes running out of the dugout)
Gary: The fun never stops. (to manager) How you doing there, skipper? Say, my right arm’s getting a bit tired from tossing people, you mind if I do you with my left?
***
(Three days later. Gary sits in the office of the President of the Minor League Umpires Union)
President: (reading from list)…eleven ejections, two formal protests, a human rights complaint…
Gary: From who, that Mexican grounds crew guy?
President: He says you asked him if he planned on leaving the park by climbing over the fence.
Gary: It was a joke!
President: Yeah, well, maybe he lost his sense of humour after he had to spend an hour cleaning up all those beer cans and popcorn they threw at you.
Gary: What’s my Uncle Bud say?
President: No dice, Gary. He’s cutting you loose this time.
Gary: Great. That’s not going to make Thanksgiving awkward.
President: Three months severance?
Gary: Six. And I get to keep my mask. I need it for my Cylon Hallowe’en costume.
President: Deal. (stands up, extends hand) Best of luck to you, Gary.
Gary: (shakes hand) Heh. If I’d known you’d give in that easy, I would have asked for nine months!
Harry Potter fever has once again gripped the movie-going public, with the newest release breaking the previous record held by The Dark Knight for a midnight premiere screening. Here at Food Court Lunch headquarters, one of our Irish staff writers (who shall remain nameless… and drunk) is literally giddy with anticipation. He has hasn’t been this excited about the return of a Harry since his handsy Uncle Harry returned from his 2 year “vacation” in Kingston.
For others on staff here at the “news” desk, the release of the newest Harry Potter film provides us with an opportunity to demonstrate our total ignorance of the franchise. It also gives us yet another chance to mock our Irish colleague, and the Irish more generally (the potato-loving drunks that they are). So without further ado, we proudly present our Outsiders Guide to Harry Potter.
Having not read any of the books and seen only part of 2 of the films on a plane, I feel that I have a pretty good handle on the basic plot. Harry, a malnourished English teen whose parents could not afford proper vision care, is sent to boarding school in Northern England, where he learns the joys of friendship, magic and nightly rogering. With the help of his sidekicks, Orco and C3PO, Harry learns to master the Force. Unfortunately for Harry, there are dark powers out to stop him… The first is a budding strumpet named Hermione, whose talents include whoring and $5 handys behind the magic tent.
(don’t worry, she’s 19 - we checked)
Harry later learns that Hermione is in fact his sister, who was separated from him at birth and raised on Planet Alderaan by Jimmy Smits. They make out for a bit in one of the films, but it’s cool because they don’t know they’re brother and sister at the time and people kinda forget about it by the time the familial relationship is revealed in the next movie…
Harry’s father, Lord Voldemort, is perpetually angry due to a botched nose job. He spends his days scheming and wondering what happened to the “l” in his name (that was a Ralph Fiennes joke, people). The characters in the Potter series struggle with Voldemort’s evidently ethnic surname, often resorting to simply calling him the He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named. For this very reason, Voldemort changes his name to “Lord Bob” in the final Harry Potter book.
The headmaster of Harry’s school, Hogwarts, is named Gandalf (sometimes referred to as Boss Hog(warts)). He spends his days at the front gate, telling students that they shall not pass. He also has the power to shape metal and control electromagnetic forces. His nemesis, Jean-Luc Picard, is the headmaster of the rival school, the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. The two schools compete annually at the Regional Quidditch Tournament, which I believe is some sort of gay pride festival.
And that brings us to the plot of the latest installment in the Potter Septology, Harry Potter Performs Live With Prince. Harry, desperate to make the Hogwarts football team, takes a job as a groundskeeper and equipment manager for the team. His father and brother, who work in a nearby steel mill, continually tell him that he’ll never make the team because of his size. But Harry perseveres, with the help of Jon Favreau and Roc. In the final game of the season, Coach Severus Snape puts Harry in the game and the entire stadium erupts in a spontaneous chant of “Rudy! Rudy!”. Harry, confused and somewhat miffed by the fact that the crowd didn’t even take the time to learn his name, unleashes an orgy of magical violence that kills everyone at the game. In an effort to escape the cops, Harry flees to Tatooine and seeks the protection of the Hutt. He also totally does Hermione.
Today’s song comes courtesy of the motherfuckers in the convenience store where I bought a drink this morning. You know, the convenience store? The one that I’m going to burn to the ground this afternoon if it doesn’t get a new XM satellite station playing in the store. Anyway, it’s Peter Cetera and Amy Grant performing “Next Time I Fall.” Enjoy. Oh, wait, that’s actually physically impossible. Umm, try not to vomit on your clothes. Aim at a garbage can or something.
I’m trying to think of people from Chicago that are worse than Peter Cetera. Steve Bartman? Richard Speck? Anyone?
The scene: Office of the Director of Personnel, Chicago Cubs
[Secretary (over intercom)]: Mr. Stansky? Your 9am interview is here.
[Personnel Director]: Great. Please send him in, Laura.
[A visibly nervous B.J. Ryan enters the office, wearing an ill-fitting suit and tie and carrying a small briefcase]
[Personnel Director]: Mr. Ryan! Jim Stansky. Great to finally meet you!
[B.J. Ryan]: Thanks for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Stansky.
[Personnel Director]: Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? A coffee?
[B.J. Ryan]: Nothing for me, thank you.
[Personnel Director]: Now, I’ve had a chance to look over your resume, and I must say, it’s quite impressive. It’s not very often that we get candidates with qualifications like yours.
[B.J. Ryan]: Thanks. That means a lot.
[Personnel Director]: That said, I do have a couple of questions about your resume that I’d like to go through.
[B.J. Ryan]: Of course. Fire away.
[Personnel Director]: Well, as I said, your qualifications are outstanding. An all-star in 2005 and 2006. 74 saves between 2005 and 2006. Signed the largest contract for a reliever in the history of baseball in 2006. Just amazing.
[B.J. Ryan]: Thanks. It’s been a great ride so far.
[Personnel Director]: But I can’t help but notice that there’s not much here from 2007 onward. It only says here that you worked for someone named “T. John” in 2007. Do I have that right?
[B.J. Ryan]: Not exactly. That’s “Tommy John”. I had surgery on my left elbow in 2007.
[Personnel Director]: I see….
[B.J. Ryan (defensive)]: B-but nothing to worry about. I had a full recovery. In fact, they tell me I only lost about 12 mph off my fastball.
[Personnel Director]: ……
[B.J. Ryan (stares uncomfortably at stapler on desk)]
[Personnel Director]: Where are you currently employed, Mr. Ryan?
[B.J. Ryan]: Well, that’s an interesting story. I’d been considering a lifestyle change for some time now, and, well, when the Blue Jays let me go earlier this month, it, uhh, seemed like a great opportunity for me to expand my horizons.
[Personnel Director (furrows brow)]: I see. Now, Mr. Ryan, as you know, we require a urine sample from all applicants.
[B.J. Ryan]: Yes.
[Personnel Director]: We do this to ensure a safe, drug-free working environment…
[B.J. Ryan (eyes shifting)]: Is there a problem with my sample, Mr. Stansky?
[Personnel Director]: Well….there might be.
[B.J. Ryan (insistent)]: I don’t use drugs, Mr. Stansky.
[Personnel Director]: Hold on, Mr. Ryan. Nobody’s accusing you of anything. It’s just that, well, your sample tested positive for bone fragments.
[B.J. Ryan]: Oh boy.
[Personnel Director]: I know. It’s not something we’ve ever come across before. This can be a difficult job, Mr. Ryan, and we just want to make sure that your body will be able to handle the stresses of the position. And about your references, Mr. Ryan?
[B.J. Ryan (dejected)]: Yes?
[Personnel Director]: Well, we called the first one, a Mr. John Gibbons….
[B.J. Ryan]: Good ole Gibby.
[Personnel Director]: Yes, well Mr. Gibbons seemed exuberant in his praise of you, but we simply could not understand a word he said. You have him listed as “former major league manager”, but to be frank, we don’t see how that’s possible.
[B.J. Ryan (stares down at hands)]
[Personnel Director]: And about your other references? First you have Dr. James Andrews….
[B.J. Ryan]: Yes?
[Personnel Director]: Well, I’m afraid that he doesn’t really count as a job reference. Turns out he’s an orthopedic surgeon. He told us all he could attest to was the durability of the repair to your left elbow.
[B.J. Ryan]: And?
[Personnel Director]: And, he warned us not to stand too closely to your elbow.
[B.J. Ryan]: I see….
[Personnel Director]: And I’m afraid your final reference, Mr. A.J. Burnett, hasn’t returned any of our calls.
[B.J. Ryan (fuming silently)]
[Personnel Director]: That said, with your qualifications, you’re still our top candidate for the position, Mr. Ryan. Do you have any questions about the position?
[B.J. Ryan (perking up)]: Well, I am curious about how the team intends to use me. Will it be mainly in late-game situations?
[Personnel Director]: Actually, it would most likely be both early and late-game situations.
[B.J. Ryan]: Great! You know, I’m just anxious to get back out on the field to show people what I’m capable of.
[Personnel Director]: Well, to be clear, you’d be working mainly behind the stadium.
[B.J. Ryan]: So I’ll be working out of the bullpen mainly?
[Personnel Director (looks confused)]: I’m sorry. I assumed you were here for the parking attendant job.
[B.J. Ryan (dejected)]: But I-I thought…. How much does it pay?
[Personnel Director]: $10.25 an hour plus a 10% discount on tickets and team merchandise.
[B.J. Ryan (Burying head in hands)]: When can I start?
It’s been a while since I posted, so rather than organize my thoughts from the last few weeks, I am going to shit them on this post like I have ebola. Why the hell should Food Court Lunch have themes to its posts and legitimate, coherent articles? That sounds like work to me. Fuck that shit sideways. I do this thing for fun, and for the chance to criticize people behind the cloak of anonymity. As such, it’s going to be random musings, non-sequiturs and racist ramblings IN CAPS LOCK from here on in. Which, as you know, is business as usual.
1. MEXICANS! AND GYPSIES!
I HATE MEXICANS! AND GYPSIES! THEY STEALING OUR JOBZ! PEOPLE SAYS I AM RASCIST. THOSE PEOPLE ARE PROBABLY MEXICANS OR GYPSIES! THANK GOD MY GOVERNMENT AGREES WITH ME!!!
2. Pride Weekend
A couple weeks back, it was Pride Weekend in Toronto. As a budding young journalist, I thought that I would get to the “bottom” of things. And by that I mean I was repeatedly anally raped after passing out from alcohol poisoning in a bathhouse. I’m living my stories, people. I’m like Hunter S. Thompson, if Hunter S. Thompson had no shirt on, waved a glow stick and blew on a whistle (and several penises). Actually, I am pretty sure that he might have done all of that at one point in his life. Therefore, I am Hunter S. Thompson. The “S” stands for Sodomy.
The only lasting memory I am going to take from the weekend (damned GHB!) is the image of an older Muslim woman wearing a chador and sitting on a walker, watching the parade. Prior to that moment, I have never seen someone’s facial expression perfect capture the meaning of “What…the…Fuck…?” Old Muslim Lady, you completely fucking nailed it. Guy behind me in the bathhouse, same with you.
3. The Revolving Doors At The Eaton Centre
To paraphrase Bryan Adams, “have you ever really, really, really hit a woman?”
The Eaton Centre is a big shopping mall in downtown Toronto. It has revolving doors at its Queen Street entrance. I am quite familiar with these doors because I completely (but accidentally) destroyed a woman with them. As I was starting to go through one set of the revolving doors, she rushed into the door passage that was half-closed. Big fucking mistake. As I pushed forward, the door portion behind her slammed into the back of her head, which knocked her off balance and into the front portion of the door. It was incredibly loud, totally by mistake, and likely incredibly painful. I don’t think I could do it again if I tried. On the other hand, if I tried, I would be a complete asshole. Instead, I will be content to remain the clumsy jackass who gave somebody’s mom a double head injury. I couldn’t even apologize — we were separated by glass. I just mouthed an awkward “sorry” and by the time it was over, I was already out of the mall.
I feel bad, but she really shouldn’t have rushed into the revolving door. To quote Bryan Adams, “it cuts like a knife”. More accurately, though, the woman followed me out of the mall and cut me with a knife.
4. Alterations
I was getting a suit altered in the Eaton Centre. As I walked out of the change room in my un-altered suit, there was a woman standing in front of the mirror getting alterations done. On a t-shirt. A simple black t-shirt. It said “Alaska” on it in shiny gold lettering. The tailor was saying things like “but it has no seams”, but the woman would not take “no” for an answer. She demanded a form-fitting, gaudy, piece-of-shit t-shirt, and by God, she was going to get it. After that woman left, I decided to raise the stakes. I asked them to hem a piece of Saran Wrap.
5. The Fat Man Snack
I was at the drug store, waiting to buy condoms. I prefer a touch of latex when I masturbate. Anyway, an extremely corpulent gentlemen in front of me bought the ultimate guilty fat guy snack. A massive bag of Twizzlers (what he really wanted), trail mix (bought to assuage the guilt from the Twizzlers), and three bottles of Fresca. He should have bought a copy of “Men’s Health” to go all the way with his half-assed repentence.
Happy Monday, beloved readers. It’s time for another wholly-uninformed and equally uninteresting stroll through the annals (pronounced “anals”) of history. Join us, won’t you?
1854 – In the Battle of Guaymas, Mexico, General Jose Maria Yanez stops the French invasion led by Count Gaston de Raousset Boulbon. Boulbon, known for having the “Frenchest Name in History”, returns home a “conquering” hero for being the first French military leader to last an entire week before surrendering.
1878 – Treaty of Berlin: The European powers redraw the map of the Balkans. Serbia, Montenegro and Romania become completely independent of the Ottoman empire. Content that this resolution marks the conclusive end to tensions in the region, the Ottomans focus their attention on their first love: living room furniture.
1919 – The British airship R34 lands in Norfolk, England, completing the first airship return journey across the Atlantic in 182 hours of flight. Nearly a century later, Air Canada would continue to use this travel time as the standard benchmark for their Trans-Atlantic flights. They would also start to charge for meals. Bastardos!
1923 – The Hollywood Sign is officially dedicated in the hills above Hollywood, Los Angeles. It originally reads “Hollywoodland ” but the four last letters are (allegedly)dropped after renovation in 1949. Years later, a riveting documentary entitled The Rocketeer would reveal to the world that the last four letters were in fact destroyed by a wreckless youth flying a secret jet pack. Years after that General Tao would feel shame for his knowledge of the movie The Rocketeer…
1977 - Ashley Scott is born. Decades later she would be blamed for being the catalyst for the loss of literally millions of potential children by males between the ages of 14 and 34 (including many potential offspring of the authors of this site…).
1985 – United States Vice President George H.W. Bush became the Acting President for the day when President Ronald Reagan underwent surgery to remove polyps from his colon. During his day in office, Bush secretly passes legislation that would mandate that his functionally retarded son would later play the role of “Acting President” for two successive terms.
You know the drill, folks. Use that community college education to come up with the appropriate caption for the photo below. No reasonable offers refused.
I’ll go first:
“Yes, I know I have a fully formed set of limbs protruding from my abdomen. But at least I’m not this guy.”
If you’re like me, it burns when you pee, you are patiently awaiting the N’Sync Reunion Tour, and you spend your days wondering who would win in a pie eating contest between Kelly Clarkson and the fat chick from Wilson Phillips. Also, you love the NHL’s number 19s - Steve Yzerman and Joe Sakic (with honourable mentions to Joe Thorton and Jonathan Toews).
It was announced yesterdaythat Mr. Sakic is expected to announce his retirement from the NHL today. I am not sure why they felt the need to announce the announcement of his retirement a day before the actual announcement, but I believe it has something to do with the new League rules (which make for a much faster game, and apparently a far more confusing retirement plan…). In any event, the simple fact is that I have harboured an unhealthy crush on Joe ever since I was a wee lad watching Les Nordiques. Accordingly, I have acquired an impressive collection of Joe Sakic factoids over the years, many of which are not publicly known (and none of which have been confirmed).
And so, to honour one of the greats, I present the Top 10 Things People May Not Have Known About Joe Sakic (and Which May Not Be Entirely Based In Fact):
Joe once broke the sound barrier with his slap shot. The puck travelled back in time, and scored twice on the opposing goalie before the game had even started.
Joe is the only player in history to receive an assist from himself.
Joe’s skates do not actually touch the ice - he hovers above the ice surface like some sort of hockey angel.
Joe’s wrist shot cannot actually be seen by the human eye.
The term “hat trick” is actually an English translation of Joe’s last name.
Joe is so well-liked by his teammates that they all gave him their kidneys during the 1998-1999 season, even though he wasn’t sick.
Joe is so feared by his opponents that they ritually shit themselves before each face off.
Joe once beat up Superman, just because he could. He then made him breakfast because he felt bad.
Hello, [EMAIL RECIPIENT], My name is Nagolu Johnny, and I am the sole heir to [NAME OF NIGERIAN ROYALTY]. Please provide me with your bank account information and home address so that I can send you details about our exciting plan to destroy the Nigerian oil industry.
Larry King: …and we’re back with our twentieth of an indeterminate number of shows celebrating the life and legacy of Michael Jackson. With me as always, it seems, is Donald Trump.
Trump: Always great to be here, Larry.
King: Now Donald, just so I’m clear on this, you and Michael Jackson were good friends?
Trump: The best of friends, Larry. Huge friends.
King: Really? Now that surprises me.
Trump: Larry, let me tell you about the kind of guy Mike was. That was my nickname for him - “Mike”. And he would sometimes refer to me as “Donnie”, as a reciprocal term of affection.
King: Got it.
Trump: Let me tell you about the kind of guy Mike was. Often times he would call me out of the blue and just say, “Donnie, it’s me, Mike. Donnie, you know I think you’re a great guy, one of my closest friends in the world. You know that, right?” And I’d say, “yeah, I do, Mike. Now what do you want? I’m very busy.” And Mike would say, “I just want you to know, Donnie, if you ever need anything, I’m there.” And I would say, “I know, Mike.” And he would say, “Sha-moan”, or whatever it was that he said, and that would usually end the call. That was the type of guy Michael Jackson was.
King: Uh-huh.
Trump: And I’ll tell you something else, Larry. Because we were such good friends, I just want to say from the very bottom of my heart, how glad I am that he’s dead.
King: Okay. Now why’s that?
Trump: Because, Larry, now people are buying up all of his albums again, and all that money he owed? It’ll be paid off in a week.
King: Clears up the money troubles.
Trump: Being debt free is a beautiful thing, Larry. Believe you me.
King: Donald Trump’s with us, good friend of Michael Jackson’s, glad to see him go.
King: I did not. Joining us on the phones is Sean “P. Daddy” Combs. Daddy, how you holding up?
Combs: That’s “Diddy”.
King: P. Daddy on the line. What’s your question?
Combs: What…what’s my question? Man, I’m here to talk about the effect that Michael Jackson had on my life.
King: Go ahead.
Combs: Well Larry, naw what I’m sayin’, I just wanted to say that I was such a big fan of Michael growing up, naw what I’m sayin’, and his death is a tremendous loss for every single artist of my ilk, otherwise known as my generation, naw what I’m sayin’…
King: (to director) I think something’s wrong with the connection, he keeps repeating himself. (to camera) I think we’re losing you, Pete. Hello?
Combs: That’s “P”, and I can hear you loud and clear, Larry! This shit happens every time I’m on here, naw what I’m sayin’. This is just the way I talk…
King: (banging receiver on desk) …these god damn phones. Dibby, we’ll have to get back to you. (call disconnects) Donald, your thoughts on Dibby?
Trump: A good friend of mine, Larry. Huge.
King: Back to the phones - I’m told we have a neighbour of Michael Jackson’s mailman on the line. Sir, are you there?
Neighbour: I sure am, Larry.
King: What insight can you offer us into the life of Michael Jackson?
Neighbour: To tell you the truth, I don’t really know that much about him.
King: Uh-huh. Go on.
Neighbour: I mean, I wasn’t into his music or anything. I mostly know his name from those news stories a few years back. The ones about all those kids he killed?
King: I believe you mean “raped”.
Trump: Allegedly raped.
Neighbour: Right, right.
King: And I’d like to remind our viewers that Jackson was never convicted of any crime, although he did settle one case out of court and, although I’m not positive about this, I’m pretty sure that constitutes an admission of guilt. Donald, do you know the answer to that?
Trump: (sticks out bottom lip, shakes head)
King: Well, as luck would have it, we’ve got Judge Judy standing by on Line 2. Judge, how about it - does settling a case mean you are admitting guilt?
Judge Judy: Absolutely not, Larry.
King: Alright, thanks for clarifying. Any memories of Michael you’d like to share?
Judge Judy: Just this - when I was a little girl, watching the Thriller video for the first time, it was at that moment that I knew for certain I wanted to be a lawyer.
King: You and countless others. But let me ask you this, Judge - how old were you when Thriller came out? The math strikes me as a bit off there.
Judge Judy: (click, dial tone)
King: Okay, we’ve lost the judge, but joining us by video feed from St. Petersburg, Russia are lesbian pop stars T.A.T.U. Girls, are you there?
T.A.T.U.: Hello? Hello, Lar-ee?
King: JESUS!
Trump: OH GOD!
King: (shielding eyes) Girls, question for you. How old are you these days?
T.A.T.U.: Vee are only twventy-vun yeers, La-ree! This happens to all Russian vee-mon at zis age.
Trump: Shut the video feed down, Larry, I’m going be sick here…
T.A.T.U.: Pleeze! You must help us get back to America. They make us work on oil rig…(static)…hello? HELLO?… (feed cuts out)
Trump: Oh, thank God.
King: Sorry about that, folks. It’s live television, sometimes these things slip past us. Back to the phones. Gargamel, are you there?
Gargamel: I still can’t believe he’s gone, Larry.
King: Uh-huh. Now, as an evil wizard, can you offer any further insight into the cause of death?
Gargamel: Well, my preliminary research tells me it was Smurfs Brain. Which is a shame, because I was working on a cure…(sinister aside)…that would hopefully cure those Smurfs of breathing, too. NYAGH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!
King: Alright, Gargamel, always good to hear from you.
Trump: Talk to you later, Garg.
King: Okay, folks, that’s all the time we have for tonight. Come back tomorrow when we’ll take a fifteen minute break from our Michael Jackson marathon to pay tribute to the life of legendary quarterback Steve McNair.
Trump: Can I come back for that one?
King: You were friends with him, too?
Trump: You know it, Larry. McNall and I were tight.
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