a small man drives a jeep wildly, crashing through the North Korean gate and into the no-fly neutral zone which divides the two holy halves of sacred Korea. soldiers of the North are shocked into action cos no one has tried a stupid stunt such as this in years. the man zigzags and flips the jeep over the last hill and escapes on foot. until the soldiers take the feet from under him. by shooting his feet. amidst the rubble of smoke and gas the man raises his fist in the air.
Kim: freedom! get me out of here! this regime is oppressive!
the soliders drag Kim away back to his throne.
Blair Walsh: and now SportsTalk with your host Blair Walsh. hey that's me! this is my own little podcast i do on Wednesdays. an NFL kicker gets a lot of down time. especially when i'm left behind the plane to Mexico City.
Samuel L Jackson: so my man, how many views does this pod get? need a cast?
Blair: i don't check the views. that's the worst thing you can do.
Sam: my man how do you do it? you have missed some crucial, career-defining field goals. lay ups under playoff pressure. easy 70-yarders. and yet you step up to the microphones like a man, talk about how this is a lesson. for your son. and skip away your day. and get another job in the NFL!
Blair: i have an indomitable spirit. no matter what happens to me, i keep my smile.
LaVar Ball: time for my segment. now! cos i'm now. move! i've got places to go people to see i'm a-big ballin'.
Blair: my show beats your facebook show in views. my shows beats yours. so, what have you been up to? you're the father, right? Lando is the son.
Sam: you're becoming the most famous L in the world. LeBron is not happy, tho he'll never say. you are too over-the-top for me.
LaVar: oh you know, twitter.
Blair: what did you say this time, Big Precious?
LaVar: i said what everyone was thinking, no one respects you, you racist pig! sent it to the president. i added a thanks at the end. ungrateful my ass.
Sam: you express your feelings through subtweet. smart. i need to start doing that, have all my followers be like, 'huh?'
the introductory breezy jazzy theme of the Charlie Rose Show plays over the stereo. Vince Guaraldi piano. the bare red room lights up. Sally Jessy Raphael and Mike Tyson sit on the roundtable.
Charlie Rose: splendid. splendid.
Mike Tyson: can i play with your iconic red glasses, John Salley?
SJR: no. if you'd try them on you'd smash them with your Hulk head.
Mike: how could you, Charlie? this is different. this isn't another regular man. this is Charlie Fucking Rose. you were the ringleader. the master of quiet. the one-on-one. no jazz band. no monologue. just an easeful conversation between two friends on a porch in the 18th century. sweet noise. talk, not sounds. dialogue. communication. a learning. an understanding gained. a rapprochement rendered. a sense that you said your peace. peacefully. the bloodless revolution. not saying boo. that's why it was so great that we did you on an episode of my show Mike Tyson Mysteries. the fact that you had the moral high ground over me made it funny. now we both are commoners and it's not funny. you could speak with authority cos you composed a composed circle. i could only punch the arena. i looked up to you, i'm not Manson. you made me soft and introspective. you were my last link to Spalding Gray. that helped me out when i finally did Broadway. it's like we're living in these times where everyone you knew was really a zombie all along. what do you have to say bout your wrongdoings, Charlie?
nobody has noticed that the roundtable was smashed in the interim by Mike. Sally Jessy doesn't bat an eyelash and stays motionless in her red glasses. Charlie is gone.
Mike: Charlie? where are you Charlie.
Charlie: taking a shower.
Mike: no, don't. there really shouldn't be showers in public offices anymore. let's get those showers back in homes ya feel me?
the lights show brought on the dark stage. President Bump is strapped to the flat plain. he can't move and lies motionless with one strap around his chin.
Bump: sweet Anastasia's ghost.
Scarlett Johansson enters the light a whip in her hand: close. i am Natasha.
Bump: why are my pants down? let me check the scores one last time? there's a rotary storm.
Black Widow: that's a rear.
Bump: lordy. Lourdes Figueroa! i'm branching out, getting Mexican with my weather girls. what a figueroa figure. figures. and that fat butt!
Black Widow: aw, darlin, i thought you were on redheads now. i'm crushed. for a while.
the whip attaches and coils around the presidential penis. but it's not a whip, it's the tail of an elephant.
Black Widow: this is the greatest reality show there is! being beamed around the world and to other worlds! the most views in the galaxy! but this is no public execution taken to the extreme on a future tech platform. nor a flogging in the public square. but a promise. come on, one more...
Bump: *show of hands* okay, okay, i give. i won't do it! i'll rescind the order. i'll have a presidential pet after all. this elephant! i'll even name it Ivory!
a giant gold stone lies behind Bump. it slowly sucks away all of Bump's Stones energy as the whip tail tugs.
Bump begins to disappear.
Bump: you'll miss me when i'm gone! it's not good to be in a bored state. man cannot live by Calico Critters alone. there is one thing worse than bankruptcy. obscurity.
Colin Jost comes out and whacks Bump a few times on the large head.
Scarlett: alright, honey, that's enough.
a commercial interrupts the proceedings.
up on the electronic billboard: Tom Steyer here, citizens unite, time to impeach, loony with a lighter.
Scarlett: dude, i'm on your side. at least for now. but you gotta stop with the incessant drumbeat of these commercials. i've seen this 100 times. i see them everywhere. interrupting my Steven Universe podcasts. my last Transformers podcast. i can't escape into escapism. you're gonna become the next puppy mill commercial...
Tom: *answering Scarlett through the screen* repeat message. privately funded. i'll step down if you step down. deal?
Bump: yeah man, you're disrupting the flow.
Haha! Don’t check the views! NO! Check the scores! Tch. Sigh. Why is nobody getting this?
I dunno, my sweet - I think I’d take obscurity. *)
Enjoy that spatchcock ......
once you get a taste of fame........you try to get a show on facebook....
I can’t taste the turkey, this can’t be good.........even with gravy
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