Clay and Kimmel ("The Climmel"): Jetsetter

Clay relaxing on the hotel balcony in Mexico, typing on his laptop. His cell phone rings. He squints at the display, grins and answers.

Clay: Hey!

Kimmel (bad monotonous Austrian accent): Mistuh Aaaaken. This is your buddy Aaahnold, the GUH-va-nate-tuh. (Clay bursts out laughing) Hasta la vista, beh-bee! Now listen--

Clay (cracking up): Ah’m listenin’...

Kimmel (as Aaahnold): I want you to come beck to Cah-lee-FO-neeah to acksept a very imPOtant awawd.

Clay (playing along): An’ what might that be, Mister Governator?

Kimmel: “Da Man Most Likely To Lose Im-PO-tant Body Pahts in a Foreign Country.”

Clay (laughing): Jimmy, you are so fulla merde.

Kimmel (normal voice): Ooh la la! Speaking Franch after your big trip to Paris, huh?

Clay: Oui! (deliberately) Bon-JOOR, mon-SEWER.

Kimmel: Heh. Is that all the French you know?

Clay: Hey, gimme some credit...Ah happen ta know four phrases besides this one.

Kimmel: And they are?...

Clay: One: “Whayre’s the bathroom?”

Kimmel: Trés important...

Clay: Two: ”What time is it?”

Kimmel: ...Came in handy, I’m sure...

Clay: Three: ”How much does it cost?”

Kimmel: ...Right. Like you even have to ask. And?

Clay: ”Leave me alone, dirtbag.”

Kimmel (laughs): Oh, that one was vital, I’ll bet! Who’dja say that to?

Clay (deflated): Well...nobody. Ah was hopin’ Ah’d git a chance ta use it aginst the paparazzi, but actually, nobody even recognized me over thayre.

Kimmel: Hard to believe. That must have been a relief, huh?

Clay: Well, yeah...at first. After a while, Ah gotta admit, it was rilly weird. ‘Course then Ah went to the Louvre* an’ took a look at Michelangelo’s David an’ it kinda put it all in perspective. Ah mean, after seein’ that, Ah shore couldn’t figger out why all those wimmin’ve bin chasin’ after ME.

Kimmel: What, you’re saying you’re not the spitting image of Michelangelo’s David?

Clay (shudders): Not even close -- more like Mickey Mouse.

Kimmel (eagerly): Hey, who was that “movie actress” you ran into over there? C’mon, spill.

Clay: No, Ah promised her Ah’d never say. An’ y’know Ah don’t...um...meet ‘n’ tell.

Kimmel: Awww...you’re no fun. So, I read your blog -- now you’re in Mexico?

Clay: Si, Señor.

Kimmel: Man. You jetsetter you. Canada to France to Mexico, all in a little over a week. What’s next? Asia? Africa? Akron?

Clay (yawning): Could be anywhayre. Ah’m gittin’ used ta lettin’ it all hang out on airplanes, that’s fer shore. An' that includes mah stinky feet. An' you prolly read that Ah hadta hurry ta mah manager's birthday party the minit Ah landed, so Ah looked -- an' prolly smelled -- like somethin' the cat dragged in.

Kimmel: Well, I hope you wore your nice wrinkled cargo shorts. Hey, that reminds me. I read someplace you asked for milk?

Clay: So? Ah like milk, an’--wait! (warily) Why are ya bringin’ that up?

Kimmel: Well, I saw something the other day and...well, I thought you’d like it--

Clay: Jimmy. Tell me ya didn’t send a cow ta mah house. Ya wouldn’t do that ta me, wouldja, after sendin’ me that wild turkey last Thanksgivin?’ Ah’m still findin’ turkey poop in mah shoes.

Kimmel: No, I didn't send you a cow. Wish I'd thought of it, though! Are you saying you’d rather have Odor Eaters?

Clay: Well, those Ah could actually USE. As you prolly read.

Kimmel: Hey, I don’t believe everything I read, especially about you. Or your...um...creative and enthusiastic fans.

Clay (with a sigh): Ah'm glad, Jimmy.
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*Okay...I know Michelangelo’s David is at the Uffizi in Florence, not at the Louvre in Paris. It’s called creative license, people.

Many thanks to my buddy Fountaindawg for her wonderful 'shop.

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Clay Aiken, Jimmy Kimmel, The Climmel, The Governator, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Clay and Kimmel

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