Johnson: So our market research shows that people want to lose weight, and that people like to eat cookies. How can we exploit this?

Winford: Let’s make low-fat cookies for people on diets.

Johnson: Snackwells already does that. Let’s think big.

Siegal: How about cookies that make you lose weight?

Johnson: That’s crazy. Sell me on it.

Siegal: We’ll call it Cookie Diet. It’ll just be a box of cookies, but on the front we’ll put a picture of my uncle in a white coat to imply that it’s medically proven to make you lose weight.

Johnson: I love it. But what happens when people realize the cookies don’t work?

Siegal: That’s easy, we just charge an outrageous amount of money, that way we only need to sell one box per person.

Johnson: Yeah, something ridiculously expensive, like 30 bucks a box.

Winford: Actually according to our projections, we’d need to charge 60 dollars a box to make it profitable.

Siegal: 60 dollars?!? Maybe this won’t work.

Johnson: No, it’s perfect! The price point will instill consumer confidence because no company with a shred of decency would charge such an exorbitant amount for diet cookies that don’t work.

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Chris French enters his apartment and is startled to find his friends Albert Dutch, Beth English and David Dijibouti waiting for him.

Albert: Chris, we need to talk.

Beth: This is an intervention.

David: It’s about your store’s name.

Chris: Chris French Cleaners? What’s wrong with that?

Albert: Don’t you see?

Chris
French
Cleaners

CFC!

Beth: That stands for chlorofluorocarbons.

David: Chloroflurocarbons created the hole in our ozone layer.

Albert: You’ve named your dry cleaning store after a dangerous pollutant!

Beth: It’s too ironic! It will ruin your business.

Chris: Relax, it’s been that way since 1959. I’ll be fine.

Albert: That’s what I thought about my failed condom business.

Albert’s
Infectious
Defense
System.

AIDS!

Beth: Yes, and my now-defunct infant furniture store.

Beth’s
Antique
Bassinets.
Yellowing
Merchandise
Unwaveringly
Reliable
Despite
Evident
Repairs.

BABY MURDER!

David: And my out-of-print peaceful New Age philosophy book!

David’s
Altruistic
Theology
Encompassing
Religion
And
Practical
Ethics.
Developed
Reverently
Unto
God’s
Service.

DATE RAPE DRUGS!

Chris: But you guys worked so hard creating ironic acronyms that you were clearly more interested in being clever than being successful.

Anthony: Oh, good point.

Beth: Yeah, I never even cared about babies.

David: Now I regret changing my name from Hank.

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Dan Denderson: Merry Christmas everyone, I’m Dan Denderson.

Robin Rochelle: And I’m Robin Rochelle. Our top story tonight: Tragedy strikes as a house in Edison collapses, severely injuring a mother, father and two children. A sad story, all the sadder because it happened on Christmas.

Dan: You hate to hear about something like this on Christmas, Robin.

Robin: It is especially tough this time of year, Dan.

And now, the Action News at five.

Dan: We begin tonight with a sad story. A local ASPCA kennel burned down, killing almost fifty adorable puppies. And to think, just two days after Christmas.

Robin: Such a shame, so close to the holidays.

And now, the Action News at five.

Robin: Shocking news tonight. An entire little league baseball team dead, crushed to death by a meteorite, a mere 24 days after Christmas.

Dan: The timing must make it extra hard on the families.

And now, the Action News at five.

Dan: Tonight, horror on the highway. A special needs school bus overturned on Route 84, killing everyone on board. And just 4 days, 7 weeks after Christmas.

And now, the Action News at five.

Robin: Tonight, the unthinkable as a heard of rabid cows trampled to death the majority of residents in Essex County, just 132 days after Christmas.

And now, the Action News at five.

Dan: Sad news tonight. James Spader, star of such movies and TV as Secretary and Boston Legal, died tonight of spontaneous combustion. His death, all the more tragic as today is Secretary’s Day.

And now, the Action News at five.

Robin: Heartbreak tonight, as the local Mattapan Rose Day Parade ended early when an elderly float driver lost control of his vehicle, killing 47 bystanders. Residents can at least take some small comfort in the fact that today, June 25th, is as far from Christmas as possible.

And now, the Action News at five.

Dan: Lots of unanswered questions tonight as 84 members of the Solomon’s Pillar cult died today in an apparent mass suicide. Authorities are still investigating how such a thing could happen with Christmas just 3 months, 1 week and 6 days away.

And now, the Action News at five.

Robin: This Thanksgiving, there’s not a lot for one family to be thankful for as a 16 year old boy shot and killed his entire extended family a mere 35 days before they could all meet again for Christmas.

And now, the Action News at five.

Dan: And finally tonight, a real life Scrooge stole all the presents donated to the Montclair Elementary School toy drive, just three days before Christmas.

Robin: How could someone do that, Dan? At this time of year?

Dan: Around Christmas. Hard to believe, Robin.

Robin: Now, of all times, Dan.

Dan: This time of year, it really is so sad.

Robin: It really is the worst time of year to ruin Christmas.

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Agent: MSNBC, how the hell are you? I’m doing freakin’ fantastic, and you will be too once you get the exclusive first interview with my clients Michaele and Tareq Salahi.

You’re damn right they snuck into the White House state dinner, and for four hundred and fifty thousand dollars they’ll tell you all about it first. That’s NEWS, baby! Ratings GOLD!

Really? You want more than that? Did I mention this is ratings GOLD? I did? Okay you play hardball, I respect that.

Well…they can also talk about what type of hors d’oeuvres the White House serves. Were there get pigs in a blanket? How about chicken satay? I don’t know, but Michaele and Tareq do, and they’ll tell you for four hundred thousand dollars. That’s NEWS baby! Ratings GOLD!

Really? You want more than that? Did I mention this is ratings GOLD? I did? Okay, just checking.

How about this? They can also tell you what Barack Obama smells like.

Yeah, that’s right, they smelled him, and they’re willing to talk all about it. Does he wear Old Spice? Is he a Power Stick man? Michaele and Tareq know and they’re willing to spill everything for three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That’s NEWS, baby! Ratings GOLD!

Hello? Are you there? Hello?

The eighth phone call

Agent: Random House, how the hell are you? I’m doing freakin’ fantastic, and you will be too once you offer my clients Michaele and Tareq Salahi a book deal for three hundred thousand dollars.

You’re damn right we skipped the TV interviews. Forget those fluff pieces! Michaele and Tareq want to tell the REAL story and the only way to do that is in a book. That’s NEWS, baby! New York Times Bestseller GOLD!

What’s their story? Well, how did they get past the Secret Service? Think of all the subterfuge and espionage; it’s like a Tom Clancy novel only better because it’s all real, and it can be yours for an advance of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

You want more than that? Really? Did I mention this is New York Times Bestseller GOLD? I did? Okay, just checking.

How about this? The book will also reveal what happened in their childhoods that led them to sneak into a White House stat dinner. Think of all the pathos; it’s like a David Sedaris book only better because it’s all real, and it can be yours for an advance of two hundred thousand dollars.

Hello? Are you there? Hello?

The twenty sixth phone call

Agent: Red Light District Video, how the hell are you? I’m doing freakin’ fantastic, and you will be too once you hear what my clients, Michaele and Tareq Salahi are offering.

You’re damn right we skipped the TV interviews and book deals, those media are dead. We’re looking to the future, to movies. Specifically sex tapes. And Michaele and Tareq Salahi are willing to sell you their sex tape for one hundred thousand dollars. That’s movie MAGIC, baby!

Sure, she’s an anorexic skeleton and he’s an overstuffed sausage, but they snuck into a White House state dinner, so who wouldn’t want to see them fornicate? That’s movie MAGIC, baby! And it can be yours for seventy five thousand dollars.

Really? They’re not good enough for you?

Common man, you released the Screech sex tape! Okay, I guess Dustin Diamond has accomplished more than Michaele and Tareq Salahi, but they did sneak into the White House. That has to be worth something, right?

How about fifty thousand dollars and we include another woman? That’s movie MAGIC, baby!

No deal? Did I mention they snuck into the White House?

Okay, how about ten thousand dollars and they agree to some backdoor action? That’s movie MAGIC, baby!

Okay, you play hardball. I respect that.

How about five thousand dollars and we don’t rule out farm animals. That’s movie MAGIC, baby!

What? You’re crazy to turn that down.

Okay, last offer. Two Wendy’s combo meals and we guarantee one donkey.

Hello? Are you there? Hello?

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Here is a transcript of the debate within the Catholic Church that led to this decision.

…

Pope Benedict XVI: I have solved the Catholic church’s greatest problem!

Camerlengo Tarcisio Bertone: World poverty?

Pope: No. How to get more converts to Catholicism.

Camerlengo: That’s good too. What’s your plan?

Pope: Well, a lot of Anglicans don’t like that their church allows gay clergy, so I’m thinking we woo them to become Catholic.

Camerlengo: Excellent idea, your Excellency! We shall convince them to join us, the true Church of Christ and forsake their heretical Anglican liturgy and shameful practice of allowing priests to get married.

Pope: No. I’m thinking we’ll let them keep all that, but we’ll just count them as Catholic.

Camerlengo: But isn’t it our rules and traditions that make us Catholic?

Pope: Nah. What really makes us Catholic is our disdain for the gays. Many Anglicans also dislike gay people and we need more converts, so what’s the harm in letting them join us while also ignoring our two thousand years of tradition.

Camerlengo: I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense…

Pope: And I’m not stopping there. Most Orthodox Jews also disapprove of gay people, so I’m going to start counting them as Catholics as well.

Camerlengo: But they don’t even accept Jesus Christ as the son of God!

Pope: Stop worrying about details! What really matters is that they hate gays. We also need to canonize some new saints to highlight the importance of homophobia in Catholicism.

Camerlengo: Do you have someone in mind?

Pope: Eminem. Listen to these lyrics of his, “My words are like a dagger with a jagged edge. And I’ll stab you in the head, whether you’re a fag or les. A homosex, hermaph, or a transeves. Homophobic? Hey fags, the answer’s yes.” Beautiful stuff. I wonder if we can add that to Corinthians somewhere.

Camerlengo: Your Excellency, don’t you think this is a little extreme?

Pope: We must do something to draw more sheep into our flock.

Camerlengo: If we’re looking to expand, wouldn’t it make more sense to open our doors to the gay community? Didn’t Jesus preach about love?

Pope: But gay couple can’t have babies. That’s a sin against God.

Camerlengo: Neither can an infertile couple. Should we discriminate against all infertile people?

Pope: Of course not. Infertile people aren’t gross like the gays.

Camerlengo: Ugly people are pretty gross. Should we discriminate against ugly people?

Pope: No, because ugly people can still have babies.

Camerlengo: So we should discriminate against gays and ugly, infertile people?

Pope: That might work.

Camerlengo: Have you looked in the mirror lately? You look like a Mogwai that’s eaten after midnight.

Pope: Need I remind you how infallible I am?

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Get desktop wallpaper version here

Iraq’s room

Iraq: America, get out already!

America: I was just helping you hang some curtains.

Iraq: They’re up. They’re a little crooked, but they’re up. And hopefully better than those old Venetian blinds you tore down. But whatever, you need to get out. Also, can I borrow 100 bucks?

America: I thought you were getting a job at the gas station.

Iraq: That’s not working out as well as we hoped. Give me some money.

…

The living room

China: What’s up, America? Want to watch Julie & Julia? I got it on DVD. The picture’s a little shaky, but you can still tell what’s going on.

America: Maybe later. But hey, while I’m here, Iraq needs 100 bucks, so can I borrow 200 hundred bucks?

China: Okay, but you have to promise to not get mad when I leave my trash everywhere, torture my house guests and switch your toothpaste with lead.

America: Deal.

…

The kitchen

Israel: You put your finger in my peanut butter, Palestine.

Palestine: You stole my peanut butter.

Israel: No, I was given your peanut butter. You can’t just put your finger in it.

Palestine: I can do whatever I want with MY peanut butter.

Palestine’s cousin kicks Israel in the shins.

Israel: Damnit Palestine!

Palestine: Hey that was my cousin, not me.

Palestine winks at his cousin.

Israel punches Palestine in the face.

Palestine’s cousin give’s Israel a dead-leg.

Israel puts Palestine in a headlock.

America: Hey guys, knock it off!

Israel and Palestine: NO!

Palestine’s cousin kicks America in the crotch.

America: Sonofa!

America farts on Palestine.

Palestine: See? You always take his side!

…

The front door

Italy: Ahh, you’ve come at last, my darling.

Young Hot Babe: Tee hee.

France: Hey Italy. You have to stop inviting all these strange girls over.

Young Hot Babe: Giggle, giggle.

Italy: I can do what I want!

France: Yeah, but there’s just so many of them and we don’t know who they are. What if they try to steal something? Show a little restraint.

Italy: You are just jealous.

France: I’ve got a supermodel wife.

Italy: Touché

France: Also, put on some pants. You’re embarrassing yourself.

…

House meeting

Afghanistan: Why was I brought to this meeting?

America: You’ve got to start cleaning your bathroom.

Afghanistan: I resent the implication! My bathroom is spotless.

England: Everyone can smell it. The whole house reeks.

Afghanistan: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

America: Look, Afghanistan, I’ll come in and help you clean up.

Russia: Oooh, America. Ix-nay on the elp-hay.

America: Why? What’s wrong.

Russia: I once tried getting in there and couldn’t handle it.

America: That was a long time ago. I’m sure it’ll be different with me.

Russia: Your funeral.

…

Outside Iran’s door

America: Hey, Iran, we need to talk.

Iran pokes his head out

Iran: What do you want?

England: Can we come in?

Iran: No.

France: Look, we know you’re making a meth lab in there.

Iran: No I’m not. That’s ridiculous.

America: Can we come in?

Iran: No.

France: If you don’t let us in in the next month or so, there will be terrible consequences.

Iran: You’ll kick me out of the house?

England: Worse. We’ll make you pay a larger share of the utilities.

Iran: What? That’s crazy. China, you’re okay with this?

China: It’s nothing personal.

Iran: Typical. And Russia, you too? What about bros before G.I. Joes?

Russia: Oh man, Iran. Don’t be like that. You know you’re my brother from another mother, but seriously, you could blow up the house.

Iran: Whatever. North Korea’s got tons of crazy stuff in his room.

North Korea: (heard muffled through his door) Yeah! Say hello to my little friend! Kill ‘em all, Pacino

America: Right, but he just holes up in his room and watches movies.

…

House hallway

Libya: (ranting to self) Swine flu was invented by the American Coast Guard to kill Martin Luther King Jr! I want a sandwich. The Vatican is responsible for 9/11. A roast beef sandwich! Arabs and Jews play naked Twister with each other. Lettuce and tomato, hold the mayo.

Germany: Can’t we force Libya into a nursing home or something? He’s obviously lost it.

Italy: I’m afraid not. He lives in a tent in our backyard. That’s out of our jurisdiction.

Libya: I said hold the mayo! Africa vetoes this sandwich.

…

House meeting

Turkey: I just want to say again, I didn’t drink the Armenian coffee, and that it was a long time ago, but that most importantly I deny drinking it.

America: Hey Turkey, relax, no need to bring it up. No one is saying you killed the pot of Armenian coffee.

France: Actually, I think he did.

Russia: Me too.

Italy: He totally finished it off.

America: Look, the important thing is we move past whatever Turkey did or did not do so we can play his Xbox 360.

Germany: This is bull! I’m not always included in house meetings because of that time I ate all the bagels, but you’re willing to let Turkey off the hook?

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God: So there’s a 3 here, a 2 in the corner and both are those are 1′s, which means…

Archangel Mikha’el: God! You’ve been playing minesweeper for the last hour. I knew switching from parchment to computers was a bad idea. You’ve got to stop procrastinating and get back to writing.

God: I deserve breaks! Writing a year’s worth of stuff to happen to 6,785,801,775 people is a lot of work. I don’t want to burn out.

Mikha’el: Let me see what you have so far.

God: It’s still a first draft. I’m not ready for other people to…

Archangel Mikha’el pushes God aside and reads off the screen.

Mikha’el: What do we have here. Benjamin Rosenberg gets laid off in November. He tries to take up cooking to fill his days but ends getting addicted to the soap opera Days of Our Lives. In February he meets Jennifer Blatt at a speed dating event, she gets pregnant and… oh come on God. Really?

God: What? What’s wrong with that?

Mikha’el: That’s the exact same thing you wrote for the last 40,000 people!

God: Yeah, but they’ll never meet each other, so what’s the harm if I double dip to save some time? I’ve got a lot of people to write about, there’s going to be some overlap.

Mikha’el: Okay, but you wrote that same fate for Shi Bing Nu. He’s a farmer in rural China. Where’s he supposed to find a speed dating event in the Qinghai province?

God: Fine! I’ll change his to an arranged marriage. You happy now?

Mikha’el: Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, God?

God: I’ve been writing for a week straight. I’m so tired. I need some Mountain Dew. Where’d my Mountain Dew go?

Mikha’el: No! No more Mountain Dew for you, God. Last year you drank a twelve pack and had people invent sports like Glacial Unicycling, Freefall Rollerblading and Rocketpack Badminton.

God: But the Henderson family really enjoyed Rocketpack Badminton!

Mikha’el: Until Grandma crashed into the side of their house. Seriously, Rocketpack Badminton was easily the worst idea you’ve ever thought of, and you thought up the cockroach.

God: What do you want from me? Look at the great writers throughout history. Homer only composed two epic poems. Shakespeare only wrote 37 plays. Twin Peaks only had one good season. I’ve been writing for 5770 years, I jumped the shark centuries ago. Just look at the Protestant reformation. I ran out of ideas so I introduced a new religion. How was I supposed to know it would ruin the dynamic and alienate fans?

Mikha’el: Come on God, focus. Look you’re doing pretty good, you’re already halfway done!

God: I’m only halfway done?!? I am never going to finish in time. Can’t I get an extension?

Mikha’el: No. You were the one who set the deadline for Yom Kippur, otherwise you said you would never finish.

God: Yeah, I know. But I made that rule back in my fire and brimstone days when there were only a few million people and most died young from plague, famine or poor medical practices. Those were better days, that’s for sure.

Mikha’el: Okay, God. I’m going to help you for a bit. Maybe bouncing ideas off someone else will get the juices flowing. Next up on your list is Wening Wulandari. She owns a food cart in Indonesia. What can we do with her?

God: Indonesia, huh? Isn’t that volcano Krakatoa in Indonesia?

Mikha’el: I don’t like where you’re going with this…

God: All I’m saying is, one really giant eruption and then I’m one hundred thousand people closer to hitting my deadline.

Mikha’el: You promised to lay off the large scale disaster for a few years. They were becoming a a writing crutch for you.

God: Okay, good point. But how about a small eruption, just two thousand dead? How’s that sound?

Mikha’el: Okay, that’s reasonable. So we’re done with Wulandari and her whole family. Next up is Fernando Gomez. He lives in Colombia and works as a mid-level bureaucrat in the Ministry of Transport. Let’s do something fun with him, maybe he wins the lotto?

God: I don’t know, that sounds like hack writing. How about this instead: He gets laid off in November. He tries to take up cooking to fill his days but ends getting addicted to the telenovela El Baile de la Vida. In February he meets Jennifer Blanco at a speed dating event, she gets pregnant and they marry two months later.

Mikha’el: That’s the best you’ve got?

God: It’s that or a huge earthquake.

Mikha’el: Fine. Looks like 5770 is the year speed dating really takes off.

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This past August, deep underground in the Democratic headquarters’ strategy room.

Robin: Guys, we’re getting pounded in the news about our health care reform. They only cover the most outlandish, outrageous arguments like government death panels. We need to do something!

BatReid: I am doing something, my ward. I tell everyone at our cocktail parties of like-minded friends how ridiculous the whole situation is.

Robin: No! We need to do something big.

WonderPelosi: What do you mean, boy wonder?

Robin: Death panels have been used to scare people away from a public insurance option. But we have death panels now. They’re the for-profit insurance companies that will use any acne as a pre-existing condition to deny cancer treatment. That will purposely send the elderly the wrong forms to fill out, hoping that they die before the bureaucratic problems are sorted out. That will encourage employees to cancel policies of those with expensive illnesses.

AquaDodd: I know. That’s why we’re trying to pass health care reform.

Robin: But no one is getting the message. To compete in the brain-dead news world, we need visceral images. We should stack body bags in front of Assurant Health’s building for every person they killed by denying coverage. We should have children who have lost a parent wearing shirts that say “Blue Cross decided my Daddy’s life was too expensive.” We should find people who went bankrupt when UnitedHealth wouldn’t pay for necessary procedures and have them pan handle outside the offices.

SuperObama: I think it’s important to stay above the fray.

BatReid: Let’s just deal with this problem the same way we dealt with George W. Bush.

Robin: You mean avoid making convincing arguments and let the problem fester hoping that eventually people come to our side out of sheer desperation?

WonderPelosi: Precisely.

Meanwhile…

At the Hall of Republicans.

DickLex LuthorArmey: Let’s spread rumors that Obama will make everyone wait in breadlines for hours to get prescription drugs.

Bizarro Steele: And that Democrats are mad crazy off the hook wanna kill Medicare.

Cheetah Palin: And that Obamacare is a liberal ploy to let Muslims eat Christian babies.

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OJ Simpson: I’m in jail. How do you think?

Ghost of Johnny Cochran: Oh right. Sorry about dying before you stopped being an idiot.

OJ Simpson: What do you want? I don’t have any money.

Ghost of Johnny Cochran: No man, this is a personal visit. I was talking with Ted Kennedy in the afterlife and it hit me like an 1967 Oldsmobile Delmont 88 driving off a bridge in Chappaquiddick. This guy also killed a white woman, but everyone forgave him because of his years of public service.

OJ Simpson: So you think people will forgive me if I become a Senator?

Ghost of Johnny Cochran: Exactly!

OJ Simpson: That’s crazy. What do I know about politics?

Ghost of Johnny Cochran: Orenthal James Simpson, if you can win the Heisman Trophy, rush for 11,236 yards in the NFL, and hold your own on screen with Liam Neeson.

OJ Simpson: Leslie Nielsen.

Ghost of Johnny Cochran: Whatever. The point is, I’m sure if you put your mind to it, you could also become a lion of the senate. And once you get that type of prestige, people will find it unseemly to mention your murderous past.

OJ Simpson: I’ll be in prison for the next 9 years. When I get out do you really think I have a chance of winning a statewide election?

Ghost of Johnny Cochran: In California? Of course! They’ll vote for anyone whose name they recognize, and I already know twelve of your peers whose vote you’ve got. You’re practically a shoe-in for 2022.

OJ Simpson: I guess it’s worth a shot.

Ghost of Johnny Cochran: Or a stab!

The two laugh heartily.

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Sammy Hagar: YEEEOOW! Hey there this is the Red Rocker himself, Sammy Hagar. Is this Jermaine Jackson?

Marlon: No, it’s Marlon.

Sammy: Marlon Waynes?

Marlon: Marlon Jackson

Sammy: Oh, sorry man. Were you in the Jackson Five?

Marlon: Yes I was.

Sammy: Then I would just like to express my deepest condolences for your brother’s loss.

Marlon: I didn’t know you were a fan.

Sammy: Oh yeah man, big fan. I was so crushed by the news that I almost didn’t do my daily five shots of Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo Tequilla.

Marlon: I’ll be sure to pass on your kind words. Thank you, Sammy.

Sammy: You’re welcome, Tito.

Marlon: I’m Marlon.

Sammy: Marlon, right. My mistake. Anyway, while I got you on the line have you considered reuniting the remaining members of the Jackson 5?

Marlon: That was a long time ago

Sammy: And so was Michael Jackson’s cultural relevancy, but now that he’s dead everyone’s too busy making him number one on iTunes to care what a sad joke he became.

Marlon: That’s my brother you’re talking about.

Sammy: No, what I’m talking about is the unique situation we are in to make some serious cashola.

Marlon: We?

Sammy: Totally man. You guys are gonna need a new lead singer, and I’ll make everyone forget about Jacko faster than you can say Diamond Dave. We’ll make so much money you’d be able to open like 20 new Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo nightclubs.

Marlon: I don’t think you’d really mesh well with us.

Sammy: I just Photoshopped a poster that disagrees.

Marlon: Can you moonwalk?

Sammy: I can’t drive 55.

Marlon: What’s your favorite Jackson 5 song?

Sammy: Off the top of my head, I’d have to say the one about the alphabet. I thought you were particularly good in that one, Jackie.

Marlon: Marlon! I’m Marlon Jackson, and I’m hanging up.

Sammy: Wait, La Toya, hear me out on this.

Marlon: Marlon!

Sammy: Marlon, right. Anyway, come on man! This is a golden opprotunity for you and your bros to go on tour, meet some smokin’ hot ladies and make enough moolah to save your struggling Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo nightclubs.

Marlon: I’ve been married for 33 years, have three children and one grandchild, and am a successful real estate agent. I don’t need your help with anything.

Sammy: Wait. Really?!?

Marlon: Really.

Sammy: Oh, well then do you think you could help me refinance the mortgages on my Sammy Hagar’s Cabo Wabo nightclubs? I’m in a tough spot here.

Marlon: Goodbye.

Click.

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