Hey, it’s Vince McMahon’s younger brother who’s a History professor at a mid-level college and is currently engaged in several sexual harassment lawsuits.
“No, it’s–”
It’s the guy Central Casting sends over when you need a U.S. Senator.
“This is–”
His haircut looks pricey.
“Oh, yeah. This is Michael Buffer.”
Right. The guy who says LET’S GET–
“SHUT UP! Stop talking!”
–READY TO–
“STOP!”
What?
“You can’t say his phrase. It’s trademarked, and copyrighted, and patented. It belongs to him in every single way, and he guards his intellectual property like a lioness protects her lunch.”
Ah.
“And don’t parody the phrase. You can’t announce that people should prepare themselves to stumble, or grumble, or whatever.”
But parody is explicitly covered under the laws of Fair Use.
“Sure, but the bastard’ll make you spend two years and a hundred grand proving it. The guy uses lawyers like nunchucks. He’s not subtle. Quite frankly, I wanna get the hell away from him.”
What does he smell like?
“What someone in a casino means when he uses the word ‘classy.'”
Everything about that man screams “casino.”
“He tipped me when we met. A twenty, all folded up in his palm.”
Wow. How soft are his hands?
“Fresh pudding.”
Wow. Y’know what? This guy’s a fucking genius. No one on earth works as little for as much money.
“He found a good angle. Can I go?”
CELL PHONE NOISE
“Dammit.”
Why would you even ask?
…
“You’re on with John.”
“John, it’s Steve King.”
“Wow, awesome. I’m a huge fan.”
“No, the other one.”
“Ah, shit. How did you get my number?”
“CIA.”
“Jesus. Why are you calling?”
“I’m doing a benefit–”
“Pass.”
“–this weekend and we’ve got an open slot as far as entertainment goes. Now, uh, you couldn’t bring your comedian buddy Dave Champagne or whatever his name is, but other than that you’re on your own as far as content.”
“Nope. Hardest of passes. First of all, I’m going to a high-end resort in Mexico to solo in front of rich people.”
“I bet that resort has a wall!”
“A fence, I guess.”
“AHA! So lemme ask you, Mr. Anal Sex–”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“–if a Mexican resort can have a wall, then why can’t we randomly kill half of all Mexicans? Like Thanos.”
“I have no response. Congressman, I’m not doing a benefit for you. I’m not from Iowa, and you’re a Nazi. Just a giant, flaming Nazi.”
“Here we go! Liberals have diluted words to the point of being meaningless. What does ‘Nazi’ mean? How am I a Nazi?”
“Do you subscribe to the tenets of National Socialism?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“That’s how. That’s how you’re a Nazi. I’m not doing your benefit.”
“Do you have Ted Nugent’s number?”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT
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