1. souse, n.5: 3. A drunkard. slang (chiefly U.S.). (OED)
  2. white souse, n.1: A blog for literature, politics, science, and the occasional cocktail.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Upcoming from SNL: McCain Vice-President Interviews

I can just see it:

[McCain, sitting at desk with papers in front of him. Sign: "Join the 'Change We Can Believe In' Team!"]

[McCain]: Next!

[Door opens, and Satan walks in, in suit, with briefcase.]

[Satan]: Hi -- it's great to meet you! [Extends hand]

[McCain rises, eyes Satan a little curiously, but then shakes his hand.]: Um... Good to meet you, friend. Please sit. [Both take seats.]

[McCain]: Now ... Sei-tan. That's an unusual name!

[Satan]: Don't I know it! Gave me hell in Middle School. My family invented a wheat-protein-based meat substitute -- perhaps you heard of it?

[McCain]: Not really.

[Satan]: Trust me, you'd love it.

[McCain]: Fine, fine. Says here you're a regular church goer?

[Satan]: Every chance I get. I'm very popular there -- the preacher is always talking about me and my work.

[McCain]: Good, good. But it says you're not married?

[Satan]: No -- still playing the field. There was a girl, once. Anyway, it's a long story, she fell for another guy.

[McCain]: Sorry to hear it.

[Satan]: Yeah, well, you move on, hope for someone new.

[McCain]: I know what you mean. Now -- I don't know quite how to ask you this...

[Satan]: No, please, go ahead.

[McCain]: Well, it's a pretty high-profile job. And ... there's lots of photos and attention ... well. Are those horns?

[Satan, chuckling]: You wouldn't believe how often I get that question. No, it's a rare form of cystic acne. I've had it since I was a kid.

[McCain]: Oh, I'm so sorry. Well -- so long as we're on the topic ... was that a tail I saw when you walked in?

[Satan]: Nope. Congenital birth defect -- enlarged tailbone. I thought about having it removed when I got older -- but I'm proud to be me, you know?

[McCain]: Admirable. Now, please don't take this the wrong way ... [He looks around, whispers] Don't want the P.C. patrol to overhear this, but ... you're skin's bright red. Are you an Indian?

[Satan]: Lord, no! I just got back from the Bahamas. Mai-tai city.

[McCain]: Uh huh. [Stands up and offers hand.] Well, it sounds like you're a great candidate. I've got to run it by my advisers, of course [makes crazy gesture with his hand] but I don't mind telling you, I've got a feeling in my gut. I like you a lot -- you seem like a real soul-mate.

[Satan, rising quickly and shaking hand, with a grin]: Wow, thanks! This would just me the most amazing opportunity. Thank you!

[McCain]: No, thank you! [Sniffs] Huh, what's that -- is that sulfur?

[Satan]: I think my cologne's gone bad [Shrugs, sheepishly]. But it was a gift from grandma, you know.

[McCain]: You're a good man.

[Satan]: Thanks! I'll look forward to your call. [Exits]

[McCain sits down, ruffles through papers, picks up new sheet]: Hmm... Hitler -- now where have I heard that name before? [Shrugs] NEXT!

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