[Beijing, China. Offices of Chinese Gymnastics Association]


[Knocking at the office door.]

Receptionist: Please come in.

[A strange older-looking gentlemen carrying a ’80’s ghetto blaster playing “Rock and Roll Part II” enters]


Receptionist: Can I…can I help you, sir?

Gentleman: ‘Ello, Gorgeous. You’re a right wee stunner. ‘Ow old are you exactly?

Receptionist: Twenty-three, sir, but I don’t see how…

Gentleman: Twenty-free?  You don’t look a day over twelve. Christ, twenty-free. That’s no ‘elp. You Oriental girls are quite deceptive…(to self) and talkativeCan’t keep your damn mouffs shut.

Receptionist: Excuse me?  

Gentleman: Nuffing, nuffing. And if I’m not going to speak to the Vietnamese police, I am certainly not going to speak wiff you, am I?

Receptionist: … I do not understand anything that you are saying.

Gentleman: Can’t ‘ear me, then? I’ll turn down this stereo.

Receptionist: Can I help you with something, sir?

Gentleman: Oh, yes. Right. You most certainly can. I am ‘ere about the job.

Receptionist: The job?

Gentleman: Yes, the job. Wiff the girls. The small ones. Really agile. Limber. Mmmm.

Receptionist: ….

Gentleman: Mmmm.

Receptionist: Sir?

Gentleman: Mmmm. What? Oh, gymnastics. Ladies’ gymnastics.


Receptionist: Sir, all of our officials are currently attending the individual events at the arena.

Gentleman: Oh. Oh….Well, er, um, that’s no problem because I already ‘ave a job ‘ere. Umm, I got ‘ired last week.

Receptionist: You did?

Gentleman: Yes…er, um…as musical coordinator.

Receptionist: Really? That’s a job?

Gentleman: Really! I am very famous in England and parts of Soufeast Asia. Wait, no, forget I ever said that — I was never in Soufeast Asia.

Receptionist: I have no records of anyone here hiring a music coordinator. What did you say your name was?

Gentleman: Gary. Gary Gritter.

Receptionist: Hmm. Very easy to pronounce. Well, Mr. Gritter, I don’t know what to tell you. What was it again that you were supposedly hired for?

Gentleman: Er…musical coordinator for the Sexy Girls’, sorry, Women’s Gymnastic team.

Receptionist: Why would we need a musical coordinator?

Gentleman: Why? I don’t know why? I’m not the one who ‘ired me. It’s for the floor routine — I don’t know. All I want to know is, do all of those gymnasts have documentary identification that can prove that they are sixteen? It’s quite important to me.

Receptionist: Are you a reporter?

Gentleman: No, I am a pedophile. Is that better than being a reporter? Wait, no…(to himself) c’mon, Glitter, you’re blowing it…much like that angel-faced girl in Burma…as I said before, I am a musical coordinator. Never mind what I just admitted, and if you tell the Cambodian police I will ‘ave you killed. The important part is that I was distinctly told by your organization that I could ‘ave a job around twelve year olds that can pass as sixteen year olds. ‘Ow could I turn down a job like that?


Receptionist: Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave.

Gentleman: Look, sweetie, I don’t know if you know this, but I wrote “I Love You Love Me Love”. I’m quite famous. I know people. Successful people. Dangerous people. I wouldn’t go making any rash decisions…(to himself) like I did that fateful night in a Vietnamese hotel room.

Receptionist: Security will be here immediately.

Gentleman: Oh, come on! Do you at least have a few photographs I could have? An old warmup suit from one of the girls? A clipping of hair?

[Security appears]


Gentleman: Well, then. Back to the airport it is. [Turns on “Rock and Roll Part II” again]