“Jenkins!
“Yes, sir?”
“How many fonts can we fit on one poster?”
“Can or should, sir?”
“Dammit, Jenkins, we’re the Grateful Dead. ‘Should’ isn’t our vocabulary! Imagine if someone had asked ‘Should we have two drummers?’ or ‘Should we give the roadies a vote?’ We’re not Bon Jovi.”
“No, sir.”
“For example, we don’t own an arena football team. Or do we?”
“We don’t, sir.”
“Let’s buy one. How much cash do you have on you?”
“Not much.”
“That’s the correct amount. I think Jon Bon bought his with some McDonald’s gift certificates and a used Chevy Tahoe.”
“The sport never caught on, sir.”
“Arena football. Good gravy, what an abomination. Might as well play hockey in your aunt’s vagina.”
“Sir?”
“Wrong venue!”
“Ah. Sir, I believe we were talking about the poster.”
“Poster!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Make ever word a different font!”
“Won’t that make it tough to read, sir?”
“Jenkins, who in God’s name would actually want to read the words ‘Ruoff Home Mortgage Music Center?'”
“It doesn’t have much poetry to it.”
“Sounds like a real shithole.”
“I’m sure it’s a fine place, sir.”
“Balderdash. Go down to the cafeteria, grab a tub full of chicken wings, and dash your balder against them.”
“We don’t have a cafeteria, sir.”
“Then order some wings from that place I like, and dash your balder against them.”
“You just want wings, don’t you?”
“I do, yes.”
“I’ll make the call.”
“Honestly, Jenkins: Ruoff. Say it once, and it sounds like shit. Say it twice, and people will think there’s a dog choking on a sock.”
“No argument here, sir.”
“Now, Dodger Stadium? That’s a name. Evocative. Do you know what I think of when I hear ‘Dodger Stadium,’ Jenkins?”
“Baseball? Vin Scully?”
“Forcibly relocating Mexicans.”
“Or that.”
“Oh, those were the days, Jenkins. You could rip a a whole familia out of their house and turn it into a dugout.”
“Those days are still here, sir.”
“No, no. Now you have to pretend not to enjoy it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Citi Field again?”
“Yes, sir. Very exciting. Two shows.”
“Well, something happy should go on in that building, I suppose.”
“It’s a rebuilding decade for the Mets, sir.”
“They haven’t been the same since Marvelous Marv left.”
“Marv Throneberry?”
“He could have been the next Roberto Clemente, but he missed the plane.”
“The poster, sir.”
“Poster!”
“Yes, sir. You said something about multiple fonts?”
“Beyond multiple! An orgy. An orgy of fonts, Jenkins.”
“Yes, sir. And the color?”
“All of them.”
“Yes, sir. Skeleton, turtle, or bear?”
“Tell you what: ask the kid who brings the chicken wings.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Summer tour!”
“Whoopee, sir.”
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