Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Pub, Bud, and Bets

[Beginning of recorded material]

Publisher: Give it some time, Budweiser. We want to make sure she's not just pretending to write literature, you know, filling in key words, using phrases linked to art ... If she lived in the city and wrote about having typed memos, that'd be one thing. No, we don't want to be hustled here, pandering crap. We're not shit-panderers, Bud.

Bud: Yeah, I've heard a lot of these whores learn fancy talk from their johns, slap it down the page, and bammo! ... That's it, the end of justice.

Pub: That's not happening this time, we're going to make damn sure. [Presses intercom button.] Betty, could you come in here a minute?

[Enter Betty.]

Pub: Betty, could you call the whore's agent and say we just don't know for sure, that maybe we'll wait till her second book is done? Can't be too sure nowadays. Whores can get their hands on everything.

Betty: Should I say the whore part?

Pub: No, no. Keep that between us. Wouldn't want to give her anything else to write about. [Phone rings.] I'll get it, Bets. You can go back to your desk. Hello?

Me: If you don't publish my books, could I give you free blowjobs?

Pub: I'm not paying.

Me: No, free blowjobs. I won't even charge for the type.

Pub: Nothing you could possibly do would be worth any money; not now, anyway.

Me: I'm not asking for money, not even minimum wage.

Pub: I'm not paying.

Me: I'll kill you when you're sleeping.

Pub: Send your resume to my secretary. Put "Attention: Publisher." We'll call you if we're interested.

[Hangs up phone.]

Bud: Now they're phone-soliciting!

Pub: Can't get your cock sucked nowadays. Everything costs something. You'd think we were running a charity, the way these artists want money.

Bud: We don't want to encourage prostitution.

Pub: We don't believe in whores.

Bud: Whores cost money, and life isn't free.

Pub: Let's call up the lunch wagon.

Bud: Gonna' ring Betty?

Pub: Yeah.

Bud: Hey, I wonder if she takes it up her ass.

Pub: Betty has been with us for years. She's a good gal.

Bud: You did her?

Pub: Nah, knows the wife.

Bud: That's a drag.

Pub: Well, what can ya' do?

Bud: Gotta live.

Pub: Don't ya'! [Rings Betty.] Betty, could you call the lunch wagon now? [Hangs up phone.] Betty has been with us for years.

[End of recorded material]

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