Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: katy perry (page 1 of 8)

Hall Of Famers

I was number one.”

“You don’t say.”

“Ahead of Orlando Bloom, Groban, everybody. Best bang.”

“That’s wonderful, Josh. Who are we talking about?”

“Katy Perry.”

“Is that a friend of my wife’s?”

“An internationally famous pop star.”

“I don’t know their names, but I know who they are. Are you talking about the tall, skinny, mean one?”

“No, but I nailed her, too.”

“Nice. Was it the one who’s always smoking doobies in public?”

“She won’t return my DM’s.”

“I don’t know what that is. So, this young lady said you were hot to trot? Well done.”

“Right?”

“I got great reviews from Pam Dawber.”

“Mindy?”

“Yeah. She had a thing for athletes.”

“Cool. Well, you know, Katy’s reeeeeally famous.”

“Don’t sleep on Mindy. Her and Mork were America’s sweethearts.”

“Any other ’80’s teevee stars?”

“Markie Post.”

“Niiiiice.”

“Not really. Very petite woman. Like trying to shove your head into a tube sock.”

“Ouch.”

“All the Facts of Life girls.”

“At once?”

“Threesome with Tootie and Blair. Natalie and Jo separately.”

“Details, man. I need details.”

“Tootie kept her roller skates on.”

“Sweet. Who was the MVP?”

“Natalie. Hands down. And everything else down, too. She was happy to be in the game, and she gave it her all. Real winning attitude.”

“You should write a second book.”

“Benjy keeps calling me about it.”

Perry Relinquishes Sobriety

Hey, John.

“Not gonna ask me what I’m doing?”

Eh.

“You are a fair-weather friend.”

That is precisely true. I will deal with you in the summer.

“Dude, I got so much going on! Album, tour, Fashion Week.”

You were at Fashion Week?

“So many bold choices. Kanye’s show was magisterial.”

You’re not using that word right.

“Oh, sorry. I meant it was Magisterial. That was the name of the show.”

Ah. Then, Kanye’s not using that word right.

“It was awesome. Tee-shirts five times too big and nine times too expensive, Limp, beige sweaters. Awesome.”

Sounds it.

“Ye let me wash a couple of the sweaters before the show. What an honor. I love collaborating with that guy.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Fuck you.”

What?

“I come by to check on you and catch up, and you pull your little bullshit.”

Maybe it’s just a coincidence.

“Is it?”

No.

“Fuck you.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Jackass.”

“Yeah?”

“What an unenergetic greeting. I deserve better than that, John.”

“Katydoodle?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Hey. What’s up?”

“My sales, John. I dropped something.”

“I saw.”

“And I have a new look.”

“I see.”

“It has been a rough few months, John. I did not take the election well at all.”

“Yeah, no. You were stumping pretty hard for Hillary.”

“I believed in Hillary, John. She was the best person for the job. I still don’t understand what happened. On Election Night, I rage-vomited several times.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, not at all. I required medical attention.”

“Dr. Gary?”

“It’s just easier to stay with him, John. He has all my medical records.”

“He’s a chemist, Katy.”

“Legally, he’s not even that any more.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“SOOOOOO MUCH. John?”

“Yes?”

“Is it Rocktober yet, or are we still in Zeptember?”

“It’s February.”

“Which February? The real one or the practice month?”

“Jesus, what are you on now?”

“John, have I ever told you about a man named Dr. Gary?”

“We were just discussing him, Katy. Like, eight lines ago.”

“Well, after the election I became distressed. Dr. Gary came to my aid, John! He had a stethoscope, and once he finished his popsicle he also had a tongue depressor. Dr. Gary told me I had an autoimmune disorder.”

“That’s not good.”

“So I ran into the street. It turns out I was not immune to autos at all.”

“Ba-dum-bum.”

“Dr. Gary revised his diagnosis. And he checked me for breast cancer for, like, two or three hours.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“Finally, he saw the problem and wrote his prescription.”

“Which was?”

“Drinking.”

“Drinking? That’s it? No weird, imagined cocktail of pharmaceuticals with a silly name?”

“No, John. Booze. Been schnockered since the end of November. Ramped it up in the last month. Oh, do you know what time it is?”

“It’s, uh–”

“It’s cold gin time again, John.”

“Oh, Katy.”

“It’s the only thing that keeps me together.”

“Poor Katydoodle.”

“Do you want to come over?”

“Should I bring booze?”

“All good here. Dr. Gary’s been making moonshine.”

“I’ll stop at the store.”

“Pussy.”

“See you soon.”

“Okay.”

She Comes Back To Tell Me He’s Gone

“WHERE’D THAT HAIRY GARCIA GO? AH JUST SAW HIM.”

He left the building, Elvis.

“THASS MAH ROUTINE! NO ONE ELSE MAY LEAVE BUILDINGS!”

I don’t know what to tell you.

“RETRIEVE HIM. BRING HIM BEFORE HIS KING, SO AH C’N KARATE HIM.”

Don’t karate anyone, King.

“IF HE IS INJURED, AH WILL HAVE DR. NICK ATTEND TO HIM.”

Holy shit, do not introduce Dr. Nick to Garcia.

“THE FACT REMAINS THAT HAIRY GARCIA WAS IN MY HOME, AND AH WAS NOT ALERTED. JOE ESPOSITO WILL BE FIRED FOR THIS AFFRONT.”

Why him?

“EVERY YEAR ON HIS BIRTHDAY, AH BUY JOE ESPOSITO A NEW CADILLAC AND TELL HIM ‘IF THE GRATEFUL DEAD SHOWS UP, THEN YOU COME GET ME EVEN IF AH’M DEAD.'”

Oh. Well, yeah: you have to fire him.

“HE HAD ONE JOB.”

What happens if a Rolling Stone shows up?

“RED WEST ALERTS ME. HIS BROTHER SONNY IS ON BEATLE DUTY. AH HAVE A SYSTEM.”

You’ve really thought this through.

“AH AM THE KING.”

You really are.

“THIS IS AN EMBARRASSMENT TO ME. WAS HAIRY GARCIA TREATED AS A GUEST IN MAH HOME SHOULD BE TREATED? WAS HE OFFERED REFRESHMENTS, SUCH AS A POUND OF BACON OR A HALF-DOZEN NEMBUTAL?”

Neither of those things are refreshments. Consuming either would make you feel the exact opposite of refreshed.

“WERE MAH BEAUTIFUL POSSESSIONS SHOWN TO HIM?”

He probably wouldn’t have been into that.

“MOST OF MAH POSSESSIONS ARE GUNS AND COMIC BOOKS.”

I take it back: Garcia would have loved that.

“AH KNEW IT! DAMN YOU, JOE ESPOSITO.”

Sorry, King.

“AH WILL KARATE WITH HAIRY GARCIA. IT IS MAH DESTINY. MANY GYPSIES HAVE PREDICTED THIS EVENT AFTER AH MENTIONED TO THEM THAT AH WANTED TO DO IT.”

Shocker.

“AH MUST REACH OUT TO THESE GRATEFUL DEADS. WHO CAN AH EMPLOY AS A GO-BETWEEN THAT KNOWS BOTH ME AND THEM?”

Oh, there’s Ronnie Tutt and Mrs. Donna–

“AH KNOW WHO AH WILL CALL.”

No, not her.

“I got your text, Elvis. I’m here to help, and be part of a storyline to warm up for Summer Tour.”

“WELCOME TO GRACELAND, MIZ KATYDOODLE. MAY AH OFFER YOU FRIED CHICKEN AND BARBITURATES?”

“I’m on a diet: just the pills, please.”

Dammit.

Shut Up And Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

I know, I know: Elvis sang the best Vegas song. But God help me, I love this song. And, obviously the video: Katy Perry’s boobs are dating a man who is by any honest reading exactly as attractive as me. This video tells me I got a shot.

It’s a catchy tune–it’s from those Swedish people who wrote all the other catchy songs–but the video is a hoot: Katy wears a different cleavage-revealing outfit in every shot, and she also sells a cell phone. It’s got everything.

Also, I just missed my Katydoodle.

Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

“This is Gaga.”

“Where are you?”

“Katydoodle?”

“Why does everyone call me that?”

lady-gaga-gd-mag-2

“Because you’re powerful, but fun. The Lady Gaga believes in you, Katy, and she’s on her way.”

“You’re still at the supermarket reading the same magazine! No one is helping me, and if you’re going to be as crazy as the rest of them, then I don’t need your help.”

“No, Katy. Gaga will help. Gaga is coming.”

gaga-vegas-sign

“Gaga is here.”

“Wow.”

“I told you I knew a shortcut.”

“Still.”

“How are you, Katy? Tell Gaga everything, so a plan may be formulated, and a design language created, and a look book assembled, and Swedish producers hired, and clothes made.”

“Can I be honest?”

“You must! Otherwise, Gaga will sense it, and grow displeased.”

“Um, you know I’m an Ancient Egyptian god, right?”

“I am Gaga.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay, so: things are not good.”

katy-perry-crying

“I’m just having a rough time here, Gaga!”

“You have been left alone.”

“Yes.”

“By men.”

“Yes!”

“To clean up problems caused by men.”

“YES!”

“There is only one solution, Katydoodle–”

“You can totally call me that.”

“–and it is this: we must assemble the Divas.”

“Oohhhhh. I don’t know about that. It always ends up causing more destruction than it was supposed to stop. Divas are like wolverines, Gaga. One at a time.”

“Katy, listen to Gaga. What is happening right now in the King Tut suite? As we speak?”

picsart_09-28-03-53-54

“YOU STEP INSIDE MAH DOJO, YOU STEP INSIDE A WORLD OF PAIN!”

“This not your dojo, hillbilly! It my hotel room!”

“Well, Katy?”

“Nothing productive is happening in the King Tut suite. Also–”

“The nuke is missing.”

“–the nuke is missing.”

“And who has absconded with the nuclear device?”

“I have no idea, but Doctor Gary stole it.”

“And who caused this entire problem in the first place by luring Kim Jong-Un to Las Vegas and flaking?”

“John Mayer.”

“Gaga, too, likes them tall and douchey, Katy. But you have let these men run rampant over your power, and all the magic here is very penis-based. It needs to be counteracted with feminine wiles.”

“Ooh, battle of the sexes.”

“Genders, Katy. Get woke.”

“Sorry, Gaga.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“Katy, where exactly are we?”

“Don’t worry about it. Yes?”

mickey-army

“Miss Katy, I’m C. Mickodemus Hart and my army has rode in from Manassas to assist you in putting down the Coolie rebellion.”

DOOR SLAMMING NOISE

“You’re right, Gaga. We need women.”

“Girl power, motherfucker.”

“Assemble the Divas!”

You’ve Yet To Have Your Finest Hour

elvis-kim-jong-un-party-hats

Oh, goddammit.

“ONCE AGAIN, AH HAVE SNATCHED FUN FROM THE JAWS OF A KIDNAPPIN’!”

“This my guy. Right here? Is my guy.”

Why do parties keep breaking out during hostage situations?

“WHY DO HOSTAGE SITUATIONS KEEP HAPPENIN’ DURING PARTIES? THAT KATANA DONE CUTS BOTH WAYS.”

It doesn’t.

” A KATANA IS AN CHINESE SWORD FOR DOIN’ KARATE WITH.”

It’s not.

“He right. It not.”

Don’t help, you. Elvis? Where’s the nuke?

“FINE.”

“Is cool.”

Oh, God.

“NO WORRIES ‘BOUT NOTHIN’.”

“Is all good in hood.”

Did Doctor Gary–

“DOCTOR GARY DONE STOLE THE NUKE.”

–steal the…FUCK! How!?

“IT’S A PARTY, MAN. STUFF GOES MISSIN’!”

Records! Silverware! Knick-knacks! Not fission devices!

“Had party once. Picture go missing. Had guests strip-searched, found picture. Execute. Make party continue, make guests dance.  Later execute thief family.”

“THASS A FUCKED-UP STORY, UNAGI.”

Don’t give him a nickname. Where is Doctor Gary and the nuke, Elvis?

“AH DUNNO.”

“Got me.”

“NOT FAR, THOUGH.”

Excuse me if “not far” doesn’t make me feel better right now. Just to make clear: the nuclear weapon Kim Jong-Un brought with him to the King Tut suite of the Luxor hotel is now in the possession of a treasonous Nobel Laureate wanted in several states for bigamy? And–AND–we do not know where said possession is taking place?

“SOUNDS ‘BOUT RIGHT!”

“Good exposition.”

You’re both idiots. Wait there.

Katy?

screen-shot-2016-09-28-at-1-23-56-am

Oh, you look just as insane as those two.

“Casino ownership is not for everyone.”

Oh, no. No. You promised you wouldn’t–

“I’ve started peeing in jars.”

–start peeing in jars. Dammit, Katy: I don’t wanna do the Howard Hughes bit.

“The stress is not good. Just the signatures! Do you know how many things a casino owner has to sign every day?”

Many?

“More than that.”

Too many?

“That many, yes. I hired someone for a couple days to sign everything, but then I had to have all these long discussions with lawyers. One of them was cute.”

Katy, have you given up?

“Not on purpose, but I think I’m having a bit of a breakdown. No one’s helping me! I call John, and call, and he screws around in LA and goes to parties and leaves me here, and all this was his fault! And where’s the new one? In Europe, naked. I’m just guessing, but I’m probably right.”

Sounds right.

“Men. Men started this whole nonsense, and men made it worse, and then men refused to clean up their mess. Men, always men. I’m all alone, and I’m giving up.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Hello.”

“Katy Perry, I heard what you said and you’re right. Women have to stick together, and not expect some prince to come along and us. I’m coming to help you!”

“Who is this?”

lady-gaga-gd-magazine

“It is I, the Lady Gaga.”

“OMG! Love you!”

“No, you.”

“Gaga! I own the Luxor Hotel and Kim Jong-Un checked–”

“Stop! The Lady Gaga requires no exposition. I have been briefed.”

“Wow.”

“I am choosing outfits that I will pack into the Gagamobile, so I’m not leaving immediately, but I’m on my way.”

“Gaga, I’m in Vegas. Shouldn’t you fly?”

“I know a shortcut. For I am the Lady Gaga.”

Help On The Way, Supposedly

jm-leslie-jones

What are you doing?

“It’s Leslie Jones!”

There’s a nuke in Las Vegas that’s about to go off, John Mayer. Why are you hanging out with comedians?

“This is much more fun than that, honestly.”

I’ll give you that one, sure. Still: this is fucked up. Stop shirking.

“I’m not shirking.”

Shirk-off.

“Not a word. Did you see Ghostbusters, or are you a sexist babyman?”

Those two things are not the only options.

“Not so sure about that.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Oh, come one. I’m having a good time.”

At everyone’s expense. You are a Ponzi-schemer of fun, John Mayer.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Y’know what: I’m just gonna answer the phone and not give you the pleasure of an argument.”

Thank God. I’ve clearly got nothing.

“What?”

Nothing.

“Washer of faces, launderer of clothes, and designer of jewelry John Mayer speaking. I also play guitar a little.”

“You need to do less with your greetings, John.”

“Katy?”

“No! I am an Ancient Egyptian god who owns a casino shaped like a pyramid, John! You will refer to me by my proper name!”

“And that is?”

katy-sphinx-3

“Pkaty.”

“How is that pronounced?”

“You heard me, John.”

“Sure. How is everything? Is it good? Problem solved?”

“Which problem, John? There are so many that you’re not helping with. Kim Jong-Un is still in the King Tut suite with a nuke. And it’s a North Korean device, John.”

“Only Korean.”

“It didn’t look all that well-built. There was duct tape, John. They put it in one of the guest bedrooms and people are throwing their coats on it, John.”

“Coats? People? Who’s up there?”

“It’s a party, John. It’s lit.”

“Dammit. How did Kim Jong-Un holding a city hostage turn into a party?”

“Doctor Gary defected.”

“Goddammit.”

“It’s wild up there, John. Doctor Gary made cocaine kimchi.”

“Cocaine kimchi?”

“It’s fermented.”

“Sure.”

“Steve Aoki is DJ’ing.”

“You didn’t tell me that! Why didn’t you say so!?”

“I thought maybe I’d open with the nuke, John.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

“The insane foreigner with the weapon of mass destruction currently fucking up my carpets in the King Tut suite, remember?”

“I said you were right.”

“Before I got to the part about your friend with the playlists on his computer.”

“Okay.”

“May I continue?”

“Please.”

“Also, he kidnapped Elvis.”

“That should have been the first thing you told me.

“I KNEW you’d say that! I want to be irritated, but it just proves we’re soulmates.”

“What happened to Elvis?”

“As you know, Doctor Gary and Dr. Nick turned Elvis’ press conference, which had been going on for almost a week, into a protochemical chess match between grand wizards.”

“Masters. Chess players are grandmasters.”

“Doctor Gary is in the Klan, John.”

“Sure.”

“The press conference was lit, John. Steve Aoki DJ’ed there, too.”

“That guy’s everywhere.”

“And then Elvis’ scabby, shit-flecked, corn-poning hill mutant of a father–”

“Vernon.”

“–started doing things to people, John.”

“You said that before. What kind of things was he doing?”

“Things.”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Thank you.”

“How did we go from a press conference/drug-off to the King getting kidnapped by Kim Jong-Un?”

“The elevator.”

“Katy.”

“Humor helps us deal with these wacky situations we keep finding ourselves in, John.”

“Sure. So?”

“On the morning of the fourth day, most of the journalists were dead or members of communes that had spontaneously formed in the Anubis ballroom. Suddenly, Elvis stopped talking about himself and changed from his press conference cape into his international diplomacy cape.”

“Do you think I’d look good in a cape?”

“You can’t pull off a cape, John. Focus.”

“Okay. Elvis is wearing his diplomat cape.”

“And he goes up to the King Tut suite to talk to Kim. He is alone, John.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Just him and the Memphis Mafia and some local cops and also I sent Big Ping Pong. That’s as alone as Elvis gets, John.”

“And then?”

“Kim Jong-Un snatched him up in a burlap sack and tossed him in the closet.”

“Fuck. Wait, what about the Memphis Mafia and Big Ping Pong and the cops?”

“Kim Jong-Un brought a lot of burlap sacks. And, as you know, there is no defense in karate against having a burlap sack thrown over you.”

“That’s why you can’t do it in tournaments, sure.”

“He sent a photo to prove they’re all alive.”

elvis-cops-mafia

“You changed Big Ping Pong back from a hippo-person?”

“Mrs. Ping Pong complained. Every time he’d get horny, he’d get in the bathtub and shit all over the place.”

“All right. Katy–”

“Pkaty.”

“–can’t you just keep this chilled out for a little while?”

“Clearly not, John.”

“Yeah.”

“A foreign dictator is stinking up the King Tut suite with a nuke, Elvis has been kidnapped, Doctor Gary has defected, the air conditioning keeps going out on the eleventh floor, roulette action is down 3.2% this week, and I lost the bidding for the Backstreet Boys’ residency. I am a terrible casino owner, John.”

“You’re not the worst.”

“No, that would be Trump.”

“We got political.”

“It was fun. Now come here and stop the world from ending, please.”

“Okay.”

Presley’s Progress

Photo of Elvis Presley

“WHICH ONE OF YOU COLLEGE BOYS GONNA GO GET THE KING A BACON-AND-FLUFFERNUTTER SAN’WICH?”

How long is this press conference?

“THIS HERE’S THE THIRD DAY! ME AND MAH MONGREL DIMWIT DADDY, VERNON, BEEN TELLING STORIES AND AH SANG BRIEFLY. THERE WAS ALSO A KARATE DEMONSTRATION. THERE HAS BEEN SOME RACISM, BUT JUST IN THE STORIES. KARATE CAN’T BE RACIST. KARATE IS FOR EV’RYBODY, EVEN THOUGH AH DO IT THE BEST.”

Wait, I thought you were in Vegas, at the Katy Perry-owned Luxor Hotel where Kim Jong-Un was holed up in the King Tut suite with a nuke.

“GOOD WORK SNEAKIN’ THAT EXPOSITION IN THERE, BOY.”

Why does the sign say that you’re at the New York Hilton?

“AUTO-CORRECT.”

It is not a perfected technology.

“YEAH, AH AM AT THE LUXOR, MAN. THEY GOT ALL TYPES IN HERE. REAL FREAKIE-DEAKIES. AH SAW A FELLA WHO WAS ALSO A HIPPO.”

Oh, that’s Big Ping Pong. He’s Katy’s security.

“NAW, MAN. IT WASN’T NATURAL! AH SENT CHARLIE HODGE TO DEFEAT HIM IN BATTLE.”

How’d that go?

“JUST HOW YOU’D FIGURE.”

Yeah. Even before Big Ping Pong was a hippo-person, he was a 6’5″ defensive end from UF.

“CHARLIE AIN’T NO BIG FELLA. SOMETIMES HE CAN BARELY LIFT MY SCARVES AND WATER, AND MAH DISEASE-RIDDEN, SOUR-FACED, COUSIN-FINGERIN’, FLOPPY-DICKED DADDY–”

Vernon.

“–HAS TO HELP HIM OUT, FOR AH MUST HAVE MAH SCARVES AND WATER.”

Sure. King? You gonna do something about the madman with the bomb in the King Tut suite, or just do karate for journalists?

“ARE YOU CHALLENGIN’ MAH MANHOOD, BOY?”

No, King.

“ENTER MAH DOJO!”

No.

“BOY, YOU WRITE IN REGULAR PARAGRAPHS AND DESCRIBE THE ACTION OF ME KICKIN’ YOUR ASS!”

I don’t want to!

“YOUR AUTHORIAL CONCEIT LIMITS YOUR STORYTELLING OPTIONS!”

Can you get the hell back into character, please?

“YEAH, OKAY, YEAH. KARATE, PANTIES, ELVIS.”

Better.

“THANK YOU, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”

Perfect. Now go up to Kim Jong-Un’s suite and chill him out and get the nuclear bomb.

“AH AM GOING, BUT ONLY BECAUSE AH WANT TO.”

“Okay, I need a plan B.”

Katy?

“Helloooo.”

Have you been there the entire time?

“I am everywhere. I am all within these pyramidal tracts. Do you know that pyramids have powers?”

Do they?

“Yes. Pyramid powers.”

Sure.

“I am mighty.”

katy-perry-sphinx

Wow.

“I am Katy Sphinxy.”

That’s lazy.

“You come up with one, then. Only thing I considered was the Skanx, but I’m not a skank.”

No.

“If Taylor Swift was a mythical lion-person, then she would be the Skanx, but not me.”

You hold grudges.

“I’m Egyptian; it’s in our blood. Well, Ancient Egyptian. Same thing.”

Nope.

“Can we get back to the plan? I like being a god and owning a casino.”

I thought you hated owning a casino.

“Running a casino. That’s terrible. But owning one is great. People walk in off the street and just give your their money. I can’t believe I’ve been busting my ass singing.”

Good work if you can get it.

“I’m going to make a call. Excuse me. Or don’t, but I’m still going to make a call.”

Sure.

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Yoooooo.”

“Are you kidding me, John? At least the other ones took effort.”

“I’m tired of you bullying me about my phone greetings. I’m a brave and wonderful person, and I put myself out there, and no one has a right to criticize that.”

“Have you been drinking your laundry detergent, John?”

“No, but if I did, I would be content in the fact that there were no artificial additives.”

“Are you on your way? Things are not good here. Elvis’ press conference has turned into a hostage situation. He won’t let the reporters leave, John. It’s gotten very downhome in there, and his father is doing things to people. His father is doing things to everyone, John.”

“Vernon?”

“Is that his name? I didn’t catch it.”

“Vernon.”

“John, where are you?”

jm-here-now-suit-jpg

“Well, that answered my question.”

“Right?”

“John, this is not okay! All I wanted to do was go to Burning Man, and you lured me back here to Vegas! And–and!–that Li’l Kim maniac with the nuke is YOUR friend, John!”

“I’m pretty sure you let him into the White House at one point.”

“He was looking for you! Stop washing your face and live up to your responsibilities, John!”

“FINE! Fine, okay.”

“Elvis is not the man for this job, John. Can you keep a secret?”

“Maybe.”

“I think he might be on drugs, John.”

“Elvis?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I took the drugs with him, John.”

“Sure. Speaking of which: if you want to end this press conference, then get Doctor Gary out of the room.”

“How did you know that Doctor Gary was there?”

“Katy, press conferences don’t turn into three day-long mass kidnappings/hootenannies without Doctor Gary being present.”

“Dr. Nick is there, too.”

“Oh, that’s not good.”

“It’s getting weird, John. They’re dueling. Like wizards? But instead of wands and magic, they’re drugging everyone in sight at each other.”

“Wow.”

“It’s sketchy in there.”

“I bet. Are you sure Elvis can’t handle this?”

“John, he’s still talking about how aliens invented white cotton panties or something. He’s not in any shape to…oh no.”

“What?”

“Elvis has left the press conference, John.”

“Where’d he go?”

elvis-kim-2

“Look who I just kidnap!”

“WHAT YOU SAY, FAT BOY?”

“Ninjas! Now!”

BURLAP SACK NOISE!

“Now I got nuke, and I got hillbilly! Only Korea number one! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

katy-perry-wtf

“Oh, that’s not good.”

Worst possible outcome.

“You have any ideas?

Yeah, but they’ll wait until next time.

“Okay.”

My Desert Serenade

katy-elvis-pyramids

“Do you have a plan for dealing with Kim Jong-Un and his nuke, Your Majesty?”

“AW, NOW. KATY, YOU C’N CALL ME KING.”

“Sure. And you will refer to me by my Ancient Egyptian god name.”

“WHASSAT?”

“Boobankhamun.”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

“Can we get back to the plan?”

“MAH CHARISMA WILL WIN THE DAY. AH PLAN ON BRINGING THE JORDANAIRES AND THE SWEET INSPIRATIONS WITH ME. WE WILL SING GOSPEL TUNES UNTIL HE IS OVERCOME WITH LOVE FOR JESUS, AND ME SINGIN’ ABOUT JESUS.”

“You sing about Jesus very well, King.”

“AH ALSO SING ABOUT LIFE IN THE GHETTO VERY WELL.”

“True dat. So, your plan is to weaponize backup singers?”

“AH ALSO HAVE A FANTASTIC DRUMMER.”

“Uh-huh. King, I’m gonna make a phone call.”

“WHILE YOU DOIN’ THAT, AH’M GONNA HAVE ME ANOTHER PRESS CONFERENCE.”

“Great.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

“John Ma–”

“Where the hell are you!?”

“Katy?”

“Who else would it be, John? If it was Elvis, then I would be in all caps.”

“Sure.”

“Where are you!?”

jm-here-nowmirror

“Oh.”

“Right?”

“John, this is not funny. I have to confide something in you, and this is between us.”

“Okay.”

“Elvis might not be the best person to send into the room with the nuclear weapon.”

“You don’t say.”

“At least not in the condition he’s in. Elvis met Doctor Gary, John.”

“How’d that go?”

“Predictably.”

“Yeah.”

“It turns out that Doctor Gary is on Elvis’ plan, John. In the network.”

“Katy, Doctor Gary isn’t a medical doctor, he’s a PhD. And I think they might have revoked that.”

“Yes, but Doctor Gary can do all the things a doctor does. Wait, no. Doctor Gary will do all the things a doctor does. He’s not very good at some of them, but he’ll still do them. Don’t let Doctor Gary take your tonsils out, John.”

“I’ll try not to. What exactly is the situation there right now?”

“You know how reindeer eat magic mushrooms and pass out pure psilocybin in their urine?”

“Please don’t say Elvis–”

“Elvis and Doctor Gary are ripped to the tits on reindeer piss, John.”

“–and Doctor…dammit, Katy. You’re in charge.”

“Nominally.”

“Go sober all your idiots up and try to keep things cool. Please?”

“There might be a small hiccup in your plan, John.”

“What?”

katy-perry-drinking-jpg

“I’m not exactly the designated driver in this scenario, John.”

“Dammit. Where did you even find reindeer in the desert?”

“It’s Las Vegas, John. You can get anything you want if you’re Elvis.”

“Okay. Listen, just try to hold things together until I’m done sitting in at the Grammys.”

“The what?”

“Nothing; you’re in charge; don’t let the world blow up!”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“Where did Elvis go?”

elvis-hero-press-conference

“LOOK AT HOW SPECIAL AH AM!”

“Oh, right. Press conference.”

John Mayer Does Not Play Dice With The Universe

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Star of social and all the other kinds of media John Mayer speaking.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t answer the phone that way. What if the person calling is a much bigger star of social and the other kinds of medias?”

“Media is already plural, Katy. And I’m not talking to you.”

“Why, John?”

“You know why.”

“Blowing up your house with the cruise missiles?”

“No. I mean: yes. But no.”

“It’s not the herpes, is it? I keep telling you that I didn’t give you herpes, John. I gave it back to you.”

“Not the herpes.”

“Did I steal your backup dancers? If I did, then I understand your anger, John. Stealing backup dancers is unforgivable.”

“You have a thing about that.”

“Fuck that skinny bitch.”

“I did.”

“Maybe I should call Russell again.”

“How could you go back to him, Katy? He’s just the worst.”

“Any reader of the tabloids could tell you I enjoy making the same romantic mistakes over and over. You, for example.”

“I thought we were soulmates.”

“Soulmates, John!? You left me all alone in this casino–”

“The Luxor, which you own for some reason.”

“–and I got bored. So, first I wore clothes.”

katy-perry-dice-dress

“That’s what I do when I’m bored. Good work, Katydoodle.”

“Don’t call me that. But wearing clothes didn’t work, John!”

“Did you buy some expensive bullshit?”

“I had Bugatti make me a one-woman submarine.”

“Wow.”

“And, you know: we’re in the middle of the desert, so I have absolutely no use for it. Maybe I’ll take it down to that joint with the shark tank and bother fish, but otherwise the thing is a bust.”

“Sub got a name?”

“The Goin’ Down.

“Nice. Very on-brand.”

“Right: bawdy, but not dirty. Anyway: it’s sitting in the parking lot. I think there’s a guy living in it.”

“Hippie?”

“Yes.”

“That’s Soup. He’s all right.”

“So, John: I wore clothes, and then I bought expensive bullshit I didn’t need. But I was still bored and lonely without you!”

“Aw.”

“So I dated.”

“You love to date!”

“So do you!”

“It was the first thing we had in common.”

“Oh, no, John. You know you’re my type.”

“Please don’t say–”

“Tall, dark, and douchey.”

“–tall, dark, and…yeah, that. You’re really full of mixed signals, Katy.”

“I hate owning a casino, John. It’s boring and hard, like a Russian novel with a boner. Do you know what casinos are made out of?”

“Concrete? Steel?”

“Math. It’s all math, John. The entire building is made out of math. Probability, statistics, game theory, profit margin: the carpets are fractals, John. It’s all math and I may or may not have gone to high school.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.”

“And so many germs, John.”

“So many germs.”

“No. Oh, no. No. We are not doing the Howard Hughes bit.”

“Oh, John, I’m not going to pee in tissue boxes and invent the airplane–”

“Close.”

“–I’m stating a fact: all of these people in the casino have skin made of doody. They’re just so dirty.”

“Oh, sure, yeah. Just don’t get all germaphobic.”

“One cannot be simultaneously be a germaphobe and invite John Mayer to bed.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“I made you something, John.”

“What? Yeah? That’s sweet.”

“Hold on.”

TEXT MESSAGE NOISE

bobby-imessage-jpg

“Look, John! I drew your dad.”

“Katy, Bobby isn’t my father.”

“Yes, John. He is. It was foreshadowed a while ago and it’s going to be a storyline soon. Probably the next time you two take a bunch of pictures together. But, yeah: John, he is your father.”

“It would explain a lot.”

“Yeah. Okay, John: come to the Luxor.”

“Is that limey dipshit gone?”

“Yes, John. I had forgotten how awful he was, but then I looked at him and also he started to talk. So much theatrical gesturing, John.”

“The worst. Oh, hey. Katy?”

“Yes, Johnnycakes?”

“Wow, yeah. I see why you hate ‘Katydoodle.’ Don’t call me that. Anyhoo: is Kim Jong-Un there?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

“Wait, I don’t wanna talk to–”

“Hot Dog Dick!”

kim jong un phone

“Goddammit.”

“Where you at, bro? Party is off hook! Katy comp. Big suite. One room Kim. One room posse. One room bitches.”

“That sounds great, man. Listen, about hanging out. I am SO busy, and I was just thinking–

“One room nuke.”

“I’m on my way.”

“This third act, Hot Dog Dick. Clock ticking. We chill or Vegas burn.”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

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