 Not Dávid Gaugin On March 12, we interviewed fitness master Dávid Gaugin, who says he is the true manifestation of everything ultra-marathon, motivational, extreme physical endurance person David Goggins wishes he could be. In an exclusive sit-down conversation in which we were not allowed to sit, Gaugin talked to us about his inner strength, ability to exercise 24 hours per day, and how he is a terrible house guest.
INTERVIEWER: A lot of people have heard of David Goggins but probably not of you, Dávid Gaugin. DÁVID GAUGIN: Keep moving! Keep fucking moving! INTERVIEWER: Sorry. I’m doing it. Why do I have to keep running in place during this interview? DÁVID GAUGIN: Because I’m an asshole, basically. And this is what you do when you spend time with me. INTERVIEWER: Are you doing this to show up David Goggins, because his reputation is to push people to their limits through physical activity? DÁVID GAUGIN: The difference between me and David Goggins is that my name is French-sounding, number one. And number two, he rests. INTERVIEWER: He rests? DÁVID GAUGIN: Keep fucking moving. He rests. He sleeps and eats sometimes, and I don’t. INTERVIEWER: You don’t eat or sleep? DÁVID GAUGIN: No. I just work out and run and shit all the time. No breaks. No food. Ever. INTERVIEWER: That’s impossible. DÁVID GAUGIN: Impossible is a word you use to put limitations on yourself. INTERVIEWER: You don’t eat or sleep? DÁVID GAUGIN: Your pussy is showing. INTERVIEWER: What? DÁVID GAUGIN: Let me tell you a story. I went over to a celebrity’s house one time. He invited me. I want to make that clear. And we spent a day together. I didn’t take a cab. I ran there, so I could keep exercising. I stood in front of his door doing pushups till he answered. Then I came inside and told him, “You don’t push yourself enough. You need to do something every day that not only sucks, but also sucks all day, every day.” INTERVIEWER: Like what? What did you want him to do? DÁVID GAUGIN: I told him that if you never stop moving, for an entire 24-hour cycle, you will see you can achieve anything. I’m talking about non-stop movement. No rest. No eating. Just keep doing that for 24 hours. INTERVIEWER: That seems crazy. DÁVID GAUGIN: Keep fucking moving, motherfucker! INTERVIEWER: Sorry. DÁVID GAUGIN: I burned all the beds in his house. INTERVIEWER: You what? DÁVID GAUGIN: I burned it all. No way for him to sleep without a bed. And I smeared garbage and shit all over his floors so he couldn’t fall asleep there. I even fucked his couch. INTERVIEWER: You fucked his couch? DÁVID GAUGIN: So that he could never use it again. INTERVIEWER: I can’t quite picture that. DÁVID GAUGIN: If I fucked your couch, you’d know what I mean. You could never use it again. INTERVIEWER: O.K. I believe you. DÁVID GAUGIN: Let me tell you what I told him. Nobody likes the dude who comes into your house and forces you to do calisthenics, pull-ups, and squats till you puke and try to call the police. Everyone likes the dude who says, “Hey, why don’t you take a break, and we’ll order a pizza and watch the game.” INTERVIEWER: Yeah. Yeah, I’d like the guy who wants to watch the game with me too. DÁVID GAUGIN: Nobody likes the friend who fucks your couch and says shit like, do fucking sit ups or I’ll shoot your fucking pets! Nobody is into that guy. You know who they’re into? INTERVIEWER: Who? DÁVID GAUGIN: They’re into the friend who says, “Hey man, let’s talk about your problems. Let’s have a couple beers and hang out on your porch and have a deep conversation about life and maybe order a super delicious dinner and watch a movie later.” INTERVIEWER: Why wouldn’t you want a friend like that? That sounds like a really enjoyable evening. DÁVID GAUGIN: Start doing sit ups. INTERVIEWER: Seriously? DÁVID GAUGIN: Do it! INTERVIEWER: O.K. O.K. DÁVID GAUGIN: So, anyway, he did this whole 24-hour routine with me. And at the end of it, I asked him if he ever thought he had the power within himself to accomplish what he just did. INTERVIEWER: What did he say? DÁVID GAUGIN: He died somewhere in hour 16, but I didn’t talk to his body till hour 24 because I’m disciplined. INTERVIEWER: He died? DÁVID GAUGIN: If you don’t believe in yourself, that happens? INTERVIEWER: Is that a question? DÁVID GAUGIN: I guess? INTERVIEWER: Are you all right? DÁVID GAUGIN: I’m feeling weird. INTERVIEWER: Maybe you should rest for a second. DÁVID GAUGIN: Fuck you, pussy! INTERVIEWER: You look really bad. How long have you been doing this stuff? DÁVID GAUGIN: Four days. INTERVIEWER: You’ve been exercising for four days straight? DÁVID GAUGIN: I believe in myself. INTERVIEWER: I’m going to call an ambulance. DÁVID GAUGIN: You’re a pussy.  Popular music is like a foreign language to some of us, but to the Intergalactic Business Report’s own Artificial Intelligence robot, Arthur Killallhumans, it’s more like a foreign language made up by foreigners making up a foreign language. Anyway, this week Arthur translated a human song into English (even though it was already supposedly in English). Get it? Just guess the song.
Song title: Redacted. On a Friday evening, when you gathered with a group of your friends, I entered your home without your consent or any invitation from anyone. The following day, I apologized for this. The day after that, something involving garbage happened to me. I found all of this amusing, and no one was harmed. And because of this, I contend that everyone involved had a wonderful weekend, even though this is usually not the case. I have been in a dangerous neighborhood in Boston with no way to leave. I have walked through a dangerous neighborhood in New York. I have also driven my motorcycle in dangerous weather conditions. You advised me not to drive my motorcycle in poor conditions, but I returned home safely. Following this, you said my driving in bad weather conditions on a motorcycle was proof of my mental disability. I think you may be correct that I am mentally impaired. However, you may actually have a desire to be sexually involved with a mental patient. Please switch the lights off and don’t help me. It’s possible I am not a mentally ill person, but you are probably correct in diagnosing me as insane. Do you remember when I first met you and I made inappropriate jokes about vaginas and penises and you uncomfortably smiled, probably because you were terrified and didn’t know what to do? My assessment of that situation is that you wanted to have sex. And so, I said to you, “I am not willing to make any changes to myself if you and I have a romantic relationship, but I want you to date me regardless.” I said this because I believed that instead of living a life with any stability, you would prefer to live in madness and terror with me. The time has passed to fight against me. The time has passed for you to have any chance to treat my mental disorder. It’s possible your diagnosis of my personality disorder is incorrect, but my lack of knowledge in this area leads me to believe that your diagnosis of my severe mental illness is highly accurate.  Dear Santa,
This is Ed, but you know that, right? Because Santa is like god or something and knows everybody’s name? This is Lance. Not Ed. I got rid of Ed. Just kidding. It’s Ed. But you knew that. Anyway… It’s Christmas time again and I have a few issues I need to go over with you. I’m just going to get this out of the way. You totally fucked me last year and this year you need to step up your game or lose me as a customer. Let me explain what happened last year even though you already know because you’re Jesus. I asked you for a real girlfriend who would not be able to see me when I pushed an invisibility button (also part of my request) on my sweatpants. I don’t think you understood the purpose and importance of both these items, and since you delivered neither, I will go through it in detail (even though you can read my mind and don’t need me to write it but you let me do it any way in some power play you need to feel good about yourself). The girlfriend: She needs to be hot. And don’t do the thing where she’s literally on fire or something and you go, “You said she needs to be hot” and then you laugh like the devil. Wait a second. Are you the devil? Anyway, just pick someone who’s a model or something. That’s all I have on the girlfriend part. The sweatpants: I’m sure you get this request all the time, but I want magic sweats that also give me the power of invisibility. I thought why I need this would be obvious to you, but I’m going to explain it to you slowly. I need alone time when my hot girlfriend is cleaning or whatever she does when we aren’t boning. Do you understand now? If I’m invisible she can’t be like, “What are these weird portraits of Ryan Reynolds you’ve painted and hung all over this secret room I found when I pushed in on the stuffed monkey head on your wall?” And all that other bullshit. With my inviso-sweats, she’ll have no one to say that to, and I’ll be just relaxing or whatever. The delivery: Do not drop these off at my work. Mainly because I don’t work there anymore. And also because if you did it around a bunch of other people it would make it uncomfortable for me to complain. So I want to meet just the two of us. You name the place. It can be a Taco Bell if you want, but not a Build a Bear Workshop because you may animate the bears and have them kill me. I also need time to test everything out. Mostly the sweatpants. If you want to add a button on them that also allows me to stop time or cook French fries in the pockets or something, then cool. Our friendship: I’m willing to be friends again if you can work this out for me and maybe apologize profusely. I think that’s probably the best way forward and it would allow you to get a lot of guilt off your chest and also address some of your deeper, underlying issues, like your inability to come through on things, until this year, right? My penis: I guess make it bigger while you’re putting together this whole thing for me. And don’t do the thing where you give me a fourteen-foot cock that leaves me bed-ridden and then you go, “You said you wanted a bigger penis” and then laugh like the devil. Ed Mountaineer is an opinion columnist for the Intergalactic Business Report. He was hired after we encountered him at a Taco Bell. He can be reached at ed@intergalacticbiz.com. If you would like to hire Ed, please see his résumé here. Some call it “having game” while others say it’s “a way” with women. Whatever it is, you don’t have it. Like other men who inexplicably forgo dating apps that all but guarantee instant hookups with random partners, you’re flummoxed by your inability to meet and seduce women in public places where they’re just trying to live their lives without you.
To help struggling bros seeking a magic touch with the opposite sex, we offer a new feature at the Intergalactic Business Report in which we learn seduction techniques from fictitious television and movie characters. We begin with Mel Gibson as Martin Riggs in Lethal Weapon 2. Take notes as we break down Riggs’ surefire moves on Rika van den Haas when he sees her in a grocery store. STEP ONE: Riggs stands in the grocery store and stares at Rika, who had just met him in passing at her office in an earlier scene. He then remarks about the produce she’s choosing. When she looks over and recognizes him, he explains that he followed her to the store. STEP TWO: Riggs apologizes for probably frightening her when he showed up at her office and threatened her boss. She says she was “a bit startled by all those guns.” STEP THREE: Riggs grabs Rika's grocery basket as she clings to it and starts rooting through her food. Then he demands she has dinner with him, and she says no. STEP FOUR: Riggs doesn’t accept her answer and keeps telling her she should come back to his trailer. She keeps saying no, but he just keeps selling it. He finally suggests that she “be orginal” and “say yes” because “everyone else says no.” When she again says no, he pretends to poke her in the eyes with his fingers. STEP FIVE: Still pulling on her grocery basket, Riggs tells Rika to let go of it or he will scream. She won’t let go, so he begins to drag her with him, saying, “Come on with me. Come on.” She says, “No, no please.” STEP SIX: He starts shouting through the store, “Lady let go of my bag, will you?” and then asks for someone to call the cops. STEP SEVEN: Riggs dumps her grocery basket all over the floor and the confused store manager comes out to ask what’s going on. Riggs grabs Rika’s arm and says “let’s get out of here before somebody does call a cop.” He pulls her out of the store and brings her to his trailer. RECAP: Riggs shows up to a woman’s work, threatens her boss with a gun, follows her to a grocery store, tells her she needs to go back to his trailer with him, grabs her grocery basket, dumps it on the floor, yanks her out of the building before the cops show up, and brings her back to his shitty trailer. KEY TAKEAWAYS: -Be persistent. -After you show up at a woman’s work and threaten her boss with a gun and then follow her to a grocery store and apologize for scaring her and then grab her grocery basket and tell her she has to have dinner with you and she says no, you’re basically killing it. -Women aren’t creeped out if you follow them from their work to a grocery store and then stare at them till they figure out you’re the guy who came into their place of work earlier that day and threatened their boss with a firearm. -If you ask a woman to go back to your trailer 17 times and she says no 17 times, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to go back to your trailer. -Look like Mel Gibson in 1989. Like any huge fan of Game of Thrones, I waited freakishly for the premiere of the new HBO prequel, House of the Dragon. SPOILER ALERT: When it finally aired, I sat in my own crudely crafted throne made of a lawn chair and butter knives I have borrowed from friends and family over the years, waiting patiently for the moment at which they at last enter my dwelling to see the perverse masterpiece I have constructed from the instruments of their gluttony. I know, it’s all a little much, but as I mentioned, I’m a huge fan.
SPOILER ALERT: What many less huge fans may have missed in the opening of the House of Dragon saga, is a secret conveyed to only the most perspicacious of viewers. SPOILER ALERT! I’m going to reveal it in a second, so if you want to figure it out for yourself, stop reading now and go back and watch again. SPOILER ALERT to bookend the spoiler alerts. Don’t say you weren’t warned. One more SPOILER ALERT: the first episode of House of the Dragon was on last night. Not sure if I shared that information yet. That’s not the secret though. During the premiere, there are many new characters introduced, including SPOILER ALERT Daemon Targaryen, his younger brother Lyle Targaryen, and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. Daemon and Rhaenyra both have strong claims to the throne of Westeros, but it looks like they will have to battle it out after Rhaenyra’s father, King Viserys, dies of monkey pox (that’s next episode, I’m guessing). Lyle, on the other hand, is not even fucking considered for the rulership. And why? Because he’s a secret character revealed only to astute viewers like me, and now you, because of me telling you. Lyle is so much better than his older brother and niece and is smart too. For instance, instead of waiting to sit on the “Iron Throne,” he makes his own out of a lawn chair and butter knives he stole from weaker members of the realm who doubted his reasons for being in their kitchens. Many of Lyles scenes were cut from the episode, making it harder to notice him and it’s rumored that SPOILER ALERT he may have been cut out of the series altogether, making his secret presence even more secret, and, by order of the ancient scrolls, more powerful. SPOILER FUCKING ALERT. Open your eyes. Just open your fucking eyes. For once. See him standing there. Jesus. Lyle didn’t go to college and people make a big deal out of that. But it’s not like there even is a college in Westeros because if there were people would be showing up to Disney World wearing dumb shit like “University of Westeros” shirts with a stupid dragon on it. Have you seen that yet? SPOILER ALERT. You haven’t. Lyle also has a SPOILER ALERT huge dick. Bet you didn’t know that. Maybe if you’d gone to fake college with him, you would. Like you’d find out at a party where you were both in the bathroom and you looked over and said, “Woah, that’s a huge dick” and he was like, “Oh, I didn’t mean for you to see that” but when he turned to speak to you he accidentally swatted you with his penis and you fell down. After I write an article I get a lot of mail from people complaining about how I haven’t paid my electric bill and other things. I’m sure I’ll get more of that following this entry, but I hope you and other readers will at least consider that the message I’m bringing you is not that you are dumb for not being able to see Lyle Targaryen, but that you just need to open open your eyes and there he’ll be, in every scene, looking back at you and winking, and sometimes even whispering stuff that drowns out the dialogue and makes you ask, “You want me to kill who?” And, if Lyle Targaryen can get me to listen, then maybe he can get you to too. SPOILER ALERT. I’m done writing now. Goodbye. Ed Mountaineer is an opinion columnist for the Intergalactic Business Report. He was hired after we encountered him at a Taco Bell. He can be reached at ed@intergalacticbiz.com. If you would like to hire Ed, please see his résumé here. Chris Pratt’s “The Terminal List” features so much revenge that viewers may now be in danger of Pratt killing them for their involvement in watching the series. The Intergalactic Business Report’s entertainment team has uncovered an exclusive preview of season two, in which Pratt expands his kill list to a new level. We share with you some highlights of what happens next.
Pratt kills the director. By the season one finale, Pratt had murdered everyone imaginable, and seemed sated for the moment, but his blood lust is not quenched yet as he turns and kills the cameraman, and, shortly after, the director, both guilty of just sitting there while Pratt’s family was killed. Pratt kills the writer. The twisted man who wrote the series is killed next. This piece of shit not only came up with the idea of Pratt’s whole family getting annihilated, but then wrote it down and sold it to the piece of shit producers and money men who green lit it. Pratt kills all the producers. The motherfuckers who put up the money and clout for the spectacle of Pratt’s family being killed are all viciously murdered by Pratt. He even chases down the “executive producers” whatever the fuck they are. Pratt kills all the viewers. How could they…? How could you just sit there and watch as Pratt’s family was murdered? Pratt kills the critics who said the series was good and that people should watch. These miscreants actually encouraged others to watch as Pratt’s family was killed. Unlike Pratt, they could watch the entire series, knowing the end and who did what, and they never told him. They clearly deserve to die. Pratt kills the ancestors of Auguste and Louis Lumiere. These dirty bastards whose great great great grandparents (or something like that) were the forebears to the modern movie camera, are also put down for their role in inventing something that would later film Pratt’s dead family. Much of this episode consists of people saying, “What the fuck? You want to kill me why?” and then Pratt holding his head in pain before he executes them. Pratt goes back to 50 BC to kill Seneca. Using a time machine invented by his brain, Pratt travels to ancient Rome to destroy the originator of the revenge story, without whom the entire tale of Pratt getting revenge for the death of his family would not exist. Seneca says some stuff in Latin and Pratt doesn’t understand. Then he kills him.  The Intergalactic Business Report’s own dating and relationship expert, Tessa Miggs, tells our readers to stop going on Tinder and try this instead. See her column below:
As a dating expert for more than five years, the most common question I receive is whether I want to meet up somewhere for a drink and then maybe have sex. And that’s from my boss. From everyone else it’s more like, How do you find true love in a world of Tinder hookups? Today I have that answer and instead of charging for it, I’m going to straight up tell you. I’m not going to say you need to be patient or selective or even safe about the choices you make when you meet people romantically. And I’m not going to waste your time by telling you that even though instant hookups are easy, they’re also shallow and skip the vetting process that was once known as courtship. Oh, and that courtship served a purpose where you got to know someone beyond just their dick or vagina and the small talk and the drinks and the dicks and vaginas. All of that is nonsense made up by people who are trying to bore you till you fall asleep and they can molest you. Right? Anyway, after going through tons and tons of Tinder dates, I finally realized one thing, and that’s what I’m sharing with you today. All those dudes. All those dicks… I guess what I’m saying is that after 72 straight nights of meeting random men and sometimes just saying fuck it I don’t even want to meet up for drinks first, just tell me where you live, I discovered something I probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t slept with all of them and made them not even work for it—not even a little. I’m going to turn twenty-nine. Twenty-fucking-nine. What the fuck happened to all those years? Like yesterday I was in a sorority and Tinder wasn’t even a thing. Now some people are telling me it’s not even a thing now and that I’m the only one on it. Which can’t be true because all those dudes I meet are clearly on it, so how would that even be possible? Then it’s like I’m the dumb crack-smoking whore because I’m still single and all my friends have husbands or serious boyfriends or some shit? One of my friends told me she met her husband at a library. At a fucking library? Were you there to read books or something? What the fuck is that even about? I’ve got a book recommendation. It’s called the big pop up book of my fat cooter. Wanna read it? I’m serious. I published it last week. You can actually read it. It’s one big page. Of my cooter. Whoops I almost forgot about my advice. Yup, I lost it. Does your fucking memory end at twenty-nine too? Anyway, buy the cooter book. Tessa Miggs is the relationship and dating expert for the Intergalactic Business Report. She can be reached at info@intergalacticbiz.com  We’ve all heard the term “ugly American” when it comes to discussions about U.S. citizens behaving badly in foreign countries. But when we asked loyal readers of the Intergalactic Business Report for their travel stories, we were floored by their zany tales of misunderstandings, miscalculations, and near misses. Read their descriptions of international incidents that almost happened.
“I was in Portugul or something (I can’t remember which) and some guy offered me an American hot dog. I said sure and then I realized it was his penis inside the bun.” “I didn’t understand that in Italy if you tell ‘your mama’ jokes they think you’re actually talking about their mother and not a fictional character who isn’t really related to them. So when I told this guy I fucked his mother, and that she was a total whore and didn’t even ask for money, he stabbed me.” “I guess you can’t order turkey in Turkey. I figured they’d have the best. Nope.” “If you feel like wrestling someone in an Asian country, you need to ask their permission first and maybe explain what you’re doing. Otherwise, there’s this whole screaming thing and calling the police.” “Apparently in England the phrase, ‘you dumb twat’ translates into something else, because everyone wanted to kick my ass when I said it.” “Don’t piss on sunbathers in Croatia. That’s all I can say…” “I was in a bus with a bunch of screaming Spaniards. They were so fucking loud that you couldn’t even concentrate while you’re trying to take a dump on the floor. I guess that’s a cultural difference.” “I got the French words for penis and school bus mixed up when I was in Aix-en-Provence and ended up showing my penis to people on a school bus.”  A recent Buzzfeed article collected questions British and Americans had about each other. We thought that sounded like an exercise that required little or no effort, so we did the same and interviewed both British and American people to see what they wanted answered about each other’s cultures. Here’s what we came up with.
Question British people have for Americans. “Oi, Guv’ner, me thinks I’ll ride me pirate ship o’er for some fish n chips?” Question Americans have for British people. “Is Bangers and Mash the British version of Tango and Cash?” Question British people have for Americans. “Why do Americans have such gigantic penises? How’s that even possible?” Question Americans have for British people. “What’s the deal with the small penis size of all the British? You’d think some of them would have dicks that weren’t tiny. I don’t get it.” Question British people have for Americans. “What the fuck is popcorn? And why do you eat it at movie theatres?” Question Americans have for British people. “Is Poppycock something you eat?” Question British people have for Americans. “Everything that comes out of my mouth sounds condescending and as if I’m a villain in a cartoon. But when I hear Americans speak, they just sound normal. How do you do that?” Question Americans have for British people. “The accent isn’t real, right? There’s no way you’d speak that way normally.” Question British people have for Americans. “Can I please move to your country and leave this place? I promise I’ll stop talking like this.” Question Americans have for British people. “Your money is the pound. If I take someone from England to pound town is that like going to the bank?” Question British people have for Americans. “Please sir, may I have more porridge?”  If you tuned in to ABC’s the Bachelor Monday night, you witnessed Clayton Echard (pronounced Itch-Hard) take bachelorette Susie on a fairy-tale inspired date through romantic Vienna. As usual, the event included an intimate dinner at a tiny table stolen from a little girl’s tea party, in which the enormous Clayton and his I’ve-spent-sixteen-hours-of-my-life-with-you-and-I-think-I-love-you companion squeezed into a camera shot and never touched their food.
When they were done not eating, the couple waltzed (get it?) into an adjoining room and slow-danced to Chris de Burgh’s “The Lady in Red,” sung by a creepy old man at a piano nearby. Wait a second, that creepy old man is Chris de Burgh, from the 80’s, only now he’s super old and Clayton and Susie have zero idea who he is. Yet they dance on to a song they’ve probably never heard, which ends with de Burgh whispering, “I love you,” presumably to Susie, who is donning a long, flowy red dress. After witnessing this event, culture writers at the Intergalactic Business Report immediately asked themselves the question: “How the fuck did this happen?” and, “Was Ready 4 the World not available to sing Love you Down?” Using a proprietary journalistic technique in which we ascertain information that does not exist, we recovered a transcript of the meeting that led to de Burgh being booked. We share it below: ABC PRODUCER: Chris, thanks for meeting with us. CHRIS DEBURGH (CBD): My pleasure. ABC PRODUCER: First off, have you ever heard of the ABC show the Bachelor? CBD: Hmmm. I don’t watch a lot of tely (British for television). ABC PRODUCER: It’s a very popular show in the U.S. with versions of it airing around the world. CBD: I still haven’t heard of it. What’s it about? ABC PRODUCER: A man, the bachelor, dates a large group of women and each week he eliminates some until, at the end, he finds his true love and asks her to marry him. CBD: Go on... ABC PRODUCER: We thought you’d appear in an episode in Vienna, in which the bachelor takes a woman on a date and ends up in a room where you sing, “The Lady in Red.” CBD: I love it. So this bachelor really likes my music, eh? ABC PRODUCER: Uh… He probably isn’t familiar. That song is from like 1986. CBD: Then why would you have me sing it? ABC PRODUCER: Because his date is going to be wearing a red dress. CBD: Oh, me gets it. (British for “I get it.”) ABC PRODUCER: So, they’ll just walk in and you’ll be at a piano and then you start singing. CBD: Maybe I should introduce myself first. Like say, “Hello, my name is Chris de Burgh. I have a song I wrote a while ago and I’d like to sing it for you tonight. I think it will be perfect for the occasion.” ABC PRODUCER: Yes! Yes. That… Or, you’re just there, at the piano. And you start singing. CBD: Aren’t they going to wonder who I am? ABC PRODUCER: Probably. But that doesn’t matter. CBD: It doesn’t matter who I am? ABC PRODUCER: I mean, of course it does. Just not in this context. CBD: Not in this context? ABC PRODUCER: The bachelorette, the woman, is wearing a red dress. So… CBD: Right. So the song is very fitting. ABC PRODUCER: Exactly! CBD: Then why not just play the song? While they dance. Why do you need me? ABC PRODUCER: We think it would be more romantic if a 74-year-old man sang it with no explanation to the couple of who you are. CBD: O.K. O.K. Got it. I just am there. Bam! They open the door and walk in, and I glare at them for a moment and then begin singing. ABC PRODUCER: That’s what we need. CBD: At the end of the song, I whisper, “I love you.” Uh, who am I saying that to? ABC PRODUCER: We want to leave that a little open-ended, so it could mean either of them? CBD: I see. ABC PRODUCER: Also, we feel that because neither of these people were even born in 1986, and have no idea what the song is, they may feel the whole “I love you” thing is an ad lib, or that you’re just saying it to one of them spontaneously. CBD: Right. As if I actually mean it in the moment. ABC PRODUCER: Yes, this is going to be so great. CBD: I want to mean it. ABC PRODUCER: You want to mean it? CBD: I want to actually fall in love with one of them before the end of the song and then announce that love. ABC PRODUCER: Uh… O.K. CBD: It has to be authentic. ABC PRODUCER: Uh… Sure. Sure. CBD: Let’s talk money. ABC PRODUCER: We’re willing to pay you 75 Million dollars. CBD: Deal. I love you. ABC PRODUCER: You do? CBD: Just practicing! ABC PRODUCER: Wow. That really is authentic! |
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