(Clay and Kimmel are on the phone, as usual.)
Kimmel: So...I saw something interesting when I was slumming over on Perez Hilton yesterday. Looks like you’ve been out there advertising your wares again, ya big horndog.
Clay (sardonically): Oh, that's so funny Ah fergot ta laugh.
Kimmel: I gotta say, after looking at this latest batch of incredibly flattering photos, I think you’re going about it all wrong.
Clay (dripping with sarcasm): Oh, rilly? Please tell me how Ah’m messin’ up, since yore such an expert on internet trollin.’
Kimmel: Dude. What are you trying to attract on that webcam, looking like that? Fleas? I mean, for crying out loud -- you look like you just woke up from a long nap and ran out of a house on fire with a head cold. I suppose that’s your idea of spiffed up?
Clay: Jimmy, I--
Kimmel: And what gives with that crappy webcam? Are you telling me, Mr. Millionaire Popstar, that you’re so cheap you won’t spring for one where you’re actually recognizable?
Clay: HA!HA! What makes ya think Ah actually HAVE a webcam? How d’ya know some wacko didn’t jump out in front of me in a hotel hallway with a cell phone camera at 3 in the mornin?’
Kimmel: Oh, so that’s what happened?
Clay (sighs): Yeah, Ah purdy shore. Ah remember Ah thought it was jest a fan. But now, obviously, Ah’m thinkin’ mebbe not.
Kimmel: Where was your bodyguard? What’s his name?...Tyrone?
Clay (laughs): Jerome. An’ he was asleep down the hall. Ah snuck out ta git some Cheez-Its outta the vendin’ machine.
Kimmel: Geez. No wonder you looked so pissed. (disgusted sigh) Your life really IS a Fellini movie, isn’t it. Can’t even go for some Cheez-Its without ending up plastered all over the Internet.
Clay: Oh, it was mah fault, rilly. Ah shoulda known better -- Jerome’s always lecturin’ me ‘bout goin’ anywhayre without him when we’re on tour.
Kimmel: Well, I guess this whole thing has been an education, huh?
Clay: You ain’t kiddin.’ A year ago, Ah thought “Manhunt” was one o’ those scuzzy TV shows where nekkid drug dealers git chased down an alley with thayre faces blurred out. You know, whayre the cops are always drawin’ thayre weapons an’ yellin’ (yells, deep voice) “FREEZE! GIT DOWN ON THE GROUND!”
Kimmel: I love those shows.
Clay: Heh. You would.
Kimmel: Hey, for somebody who’s addicted to Golden Girls reruns, you seem to know an awful lot about those shows.
Clay (protectively): Don't be runnin' down The Golden Girls. Ah jest like ta keep up with popular culture, that's all. An’ speakin’ o’ scuzzy shows, are ya shore ya still want me on yores? Seein’ as how Ah’m such a degenerate an’ all?
Kimmel: Like I keep saying, Clay...it’s sweeps. I’d have Osama bin Laden on if he could score me some big ratings.
Clay: Nice ta know you’ve got such high standards, Jimmy. But y’know, if ya actually knew whayre he was and DID have him on, ya know you’d git a HUGE audience.
Kimmel: Sure. And then I'd get thrown in the slammer for harboring a fugitive. But I guess it'd be worth it.
Clay: (modestly) Anyhow, he prolly doesn’t sing as well as Ah do.
Kimmel: No, that's a safe bet. Remind me again why you’re not singing on my show?
Clay: Well, RCA wouldn’t spring fer mah band, an’ Ah wasn’t too big on singin’ with a crummy tape, or with nothin’ at all.
Kimmel: Hey, at least you didn’t get stuck with “Feelings” for your next single.
Clay: Thank God fer small favors. That an’ “Havin’ Mah Baby” woulda sent me over the edge.
Kimmel: And me too, if I’d had to listen to it. (slyly) Hey...since Osama is probably not available, maybe I should get Perez Hilton. He’s almost as bad.
Clay: Or Clive Davis. (pause, shrugs) Same difference.
Technorati tags:
Clay Aiken, Jimmy Kimmel, Tabloid Lies, Perez Hilton, Climmel, Osama bin Laden, Clive Davis
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