Andy And John

Hey, Andy Cohen from teevee’s Bravo channel.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Why?

“You set a former president and a legendary funnyman loose in the parking lot, and people died.”

Just randos. No one famous died.

“That’s terrible.”

You’re just saying that because a rando is standing next to you.

“Absolutely not.”

RANDO WALKING AWAY NOISE

“Of course, it would have been worse if a famous person had died, but it’s still terrible about all the ugly, poor weirdos.”

I can’t believe it wasn’t your mansion Dead & Company played at.

“Ugh, Ed Begley Jr. in my house? No, thank you. I have much better parties, anyway.”

What’s an Andy Cohen party like?

“A bunch of guys my age, and a lot of guys who are not my age.”

Cool.

“I put out a nice spread. And there’s also some food.”

Ba dum bum!

“I’m glad you enjoyed that. I’m renowned for my wit and easy charm. Now fuck off.”

Uh-huh.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I should take this.”

You should.

…

“Everything’s dandy when you’re on with Andy.”

“Wow. That is…I am blown away. There is the kind of energy I want in my life. I’m surrounded by vampires. Financial, spiritual, emotional, all kinds of vampires. And some real ones, maybe. I won’t attest to it in court, but I think the new security guy is an actual vampire.”

“Who is this?”

“This is John Depp.”

“I couldn’t hear you over the rattling.”

“Those would be my necklaces. Hold on, I’ll have my neck man remove them.”

TOO MANY NECKLACES FOR A MAN OF JOHNNY DEPP’S AGE TO BE WEARING BEING REMOVED NOISE

“There you go. I’m John Depp.”

“What’s a ‘neck man?'”

“I have a separate assistant for each body part.”

“Huh.”

“And each of them has all of my banking information.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“I’m an artist, Andy! All that money stuff, it doesn’t stir the pot. I find people I trust and let them handle things, and then stop trusting them and sue. It’s a solid plan.”

“It isn’t. Not that I’m not happy to hear from you, Johnny, but what are you calling about?”

“Ah. Yes. The place in Malibu on Pacific Coast. The reddish one with all the windows. That’s your house, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to buy it.”

“Oh, no. I love that house.”

“I MUST HAVE IT! I tell you what, Andy: I’ll trade you two houses in the Hollywood Hills for the Malibu place. And I’ll throw in four motorcycles of your choice.”

“No.”

“An iron foundry.”

“You own an iron foundry?”

“I will purchase an iron foundry and trade it to you for the Malibu place. That’s a hell of a deal.”

“No, Johnny.”

“DAMN YOU, COHEN! Your property is the last thing that stands between me and the Pacific. I’m buying my way to the sea.”

“From where?”

“Benedict Canyon.”

“Holy shit, that’s 30 miles. And there’s a State Park in the way.”

“Depptown will live, I swear it.”

“Johnny, I’m going through a tunnel.”

“Which one? I’ll buy it and have it blocked up.”

“Cant hear you! Kssssshhhhhh! Kssssshhhhh! Breaking up!”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Hey!”

Yes?

“Did you give him my phone number?”

No.

“Really?”

I gave his neck man your phone number.

“Asshole.”