“Excuse me?”

“I deny most of the allegations, Ms. Lewis.”



“Could you be more specific?”

“Half plus one.”

“I know the definition of the word ‘most,’ Mr. Hazen.”

“Well, you do work for Buzzfeed.”

“Mr, Hazen, could you tell which of the allegations you deny?”

“It would be quicker to list the stuff I did. Because, again–”

“You deny most of it.”

“–I deny most of the allegations. So, just mathematically, the ‘yes’ column is gonna be smaller than the ‘no.'”

“Again: I am aware of what ‘most’ means, sir.”

“Ooh, call me ‘sir’ again.”

“You were about to detail the actions which will lead to your imminent firing?”

“Oh, right. You sent over a list. Lemme look. Okay, Letting my boner give the interns their orientation speech? Yes. I did that. Well, my boner did that, but I allowed it to happen. Dildorine, yup.”

“Yeah, I meant to ask about that. What is a dildorine?”

“It’s capitalized. It’s a name. Dildorine. Like Wolverine, but I would duct-tape giant dildos to the backs of my hands and run around the office calling staffers ‘Bub’ and whacking them with the dildos.”


“I was the best at what I did–”

“Stop talking.”

“–but what I did wasn’t very nice.”

“What else, Mr. Hazen?”

“May I remind you that I deny most of the allegations? For example, I am not a ‘laundry fetishist.’ I don’t even know what that means. I made the interns rub dryer sheets on themselves while I masturbated, but that’s not a laundry fetish.”


“And this thing about how I enjoyed being rolled up in a carpet and sat upon by a hefty gal. That’s absurd.”

“I was wondering about that.”

“It was a rug.”

“Mr. Hazen, what about the reports that you pressured employees into using drugs and alcohol?”

“Never! Never ever ever! If someone wanted to be a little pussy baby and not join the fun, then fuck them.”

“That’s very inappropriate, sir.”

“What’s inappropriate is bringing the party down with bitch antics.”

“Uh-huh. Did you also show a number of staffers a picture of your erect penis?”

“No, I showed them art.”

“What was the subject of the art?”

“My erect penis.”

“Right. What precisely made it art rather than a dick pic?”

“It was in black-and-white.”

“Mr Hazen, what was ‘The Booby Game?'”

“Oh, that was a fun bonding activity me and my writers used to do. I’d grab their tits.”


“That’s it.”

“That’s not a game.”

“Of course it is! I had fun and kept score.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got about enough to do my article.”

“Do you have a rug?”