Ehren's Press Conference

My friend was commenting to me how the owners of YouTube look noticeably stoned during their video announcing the sale of their company to Google for 1.65 billion dollars. I don’t know for certain whether they were high when they went in front of the camera, but if they were, I approve. Let me tell you, if Google came to me and wanted to buy my blog for 1.65 Billion, they’d be lucky if I hadn’t already spent three grand on whiskey and consumed it all by the time the press conference started.

Here's how I imagine it would go down:

[An announcer stands before a podium on a small stage. Reporters from all the major media outlets jockey for position and fall to a hush as he raises his hands.]

Announcer: “Ladies and Gentleman, the president of Swearing and Sweet Talk, Ehren!”

[Long silence, while loud crashing, bumping and cursing are heard offstage. Finally, clad in a lamp shade and a smoking jacket, while clutching a half-finished bottle of Jameson in his hands, Ehren is ejected onto stage. He’s followed by three huge African Americans wearing chains, sunglasses and looking blatantly stoned. Ehren staggers around and blearily turns to face the audience. Lifting his hands in two peace signs and simultaneously causing his robe to ride up flashing the entire audience he gleefully erupts:]

Ehren: FOUR MORE YEARS!!! FOUR MORE YEARS!!!

Female Reporter [trying desperately to ignore the cock six inches from her face and rising rapidly]: Sir, I have a question: is it true that you’ve already spent half the money on cars, hookers, and a team of scientists to discover “what gives Honeycomb that big, big taste”?

Ehren [now completely erect and eye-raping the reporter]: I have a question for you, hot lips: what are you doing tonight?

Male Reporter: sir, what do you have to say to those who claim that your success is “an abomination unto the Lord”?

Ehren: I AM God! I’m rich, bitches! [Imitating truck horn] Bwaaaa Bwaaaa!!! Ray-ray, Little Dog, Dumpster, give me a ‘Hell yeah!”

[The three huge African Americans wearing gold chains and playing dice in the corner look up and yell,]

Ray-Ray, Little Dog, and Dumpster: HELL yeah.

Third Reporter: Sir, given the current economy, would you say that the sudden boom in internet…did you just throw up?

Ehren [wiping hands to clean vomit away from his mouth]: that counts as your question, loser! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to hire a team of scientists to resurrect Muhammad Ali to give me boxing lessons.

Third Reporter: Muhammad Ali’s not dead!

Ehren: Then whose bones have I been carrying around all day?

[Ehren turns to face an off-stage party answering his question]

Ehren: Who the fuck is Al Jolson? Balls to this then, I’m feeding them to my 200 English bulldogs.

[Ehren turns to leave and is tackled by security guards, who try to wrench the bones away]

Ehren: This is no way to treat your Messiah! Hands off me peasants! Bow before your new God! I condem you all to Hell!

Announcer [looking noticeably shaken and trying to ignore the incoherent, thrashing, half-naked man to his left]: Umm…this press conference is over.

End Scene


They say that power corrupts. I think, in my case, it’d be foolish to blame the power.