And the Oscar goes to …

I’m not sure how, but I’ve always imagined that, at some point in the future, the Academy is eventually going to nominate and award me with the Oscar for Best Director. I know, I know, there’s a lot I have to do to get from where I am right now to being a huge filmmaker, but once I get there, I’ll already have this done, my acceptance speech. I’ve been working on it for some time now:

Thank you, thank you all! I’d like to take this opportunity to personally thank everyone that’s helped me get to where I am right now. But first, I’d like to make a very special shout out to my old friend Steve. Oh, my good pal Steve. It’s been a long time buddy. Way too long. Steve and I both started out together as lowly production assistants for some reality show years ago. We got along together well enough at first, but after a few days on set, I saw this nasty, dark side of his personality. Every day Steve and I had to take turns getting lunch for the whole crew. One day as he was passing out the sandwiches, I saw one of the assistant directors grab my sandwich. And Steve didn’t say anything. He just stood there, like a coward. After everybody took their meals, I looked in the now mostly empty bag and saw one pathetic looking sandwich lying at the bottom, completely flattened from the pressure of all of the other sandwiches. It had the words “egg salad” written in marker on the wax paper wrapper.

I said, “Hey Steve, what the hell? You gave away my sandwich?” and he was all like, “Look man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t want anyone to get pissed off, I …” and I cut him off right there and I said, “Well you know what Steve? You did piss somebody off. You pissed me off. Big time.” I made it through the rest of the season without so much as speaking another word to Steve, and I made a promise to myself that day. I told myself that, if I ever made it, if I ever got to be a big director, which I am now, I’d make sure that Steve wouldn’t have even so much as an opportunity to clean the toilets at a public access station in Akron, Ohio. You hear that Steve? I hope you’re watching this. You’re done! You’ll never work in this town again! I always wanted to say that.

Oh, and Steve, I bought you fifty egg salad sandwiches. I bought them last week. I put them all in a big box and had them shipped to your house. And it wasn’t express mail either. I wanted them on the slowest possible route to your house, like five-day regular parcel mail. So now you know what that smell is. I’ll tell you what, Steve, if you can somehow eat all of those egg salad sandwiches in one sitting, if you can do that and somehow prove it to me that you did it, I’ll let go of the grudge. I’ll let bygones be bygones. Are you doing it right now Steve? Have you taken your first bite?

Well forget it. I already changed my mind. I don’t care how much bad egg salad you eat. You could eat nothing but jars of spoiled mayonnaise for the rest of your life, and it still wouldn’t change the fact that your career in show business is over. Hey Steve, I heard you got married a few years ago. Congratulations. I’d also like to take this opportunity in the spotlight to personally ask your wife out on a date. Hey Steve’s wife. If you’re watching this, give me a call. Call me tomorrow. Tell you what, if you leave Steve, I’ll make your wildest dreams come true. I’ll cast you as the lead in my next film. I promise. And I just won best director, so you can be assured that even if it sucks, a ton of people are going to see it, and you’ll make a boat-load of money. What do you say?

But you guys have a kid, right? Sorry babe, the kid’s half Steve, so the kid’s got to go. And you can’t leave him with Steve, either. You have to put him up for adoption first, make sure that Steve will never get to see the kid again. Tell social services that Steve beats the kid up or something. Tell them that Steve’s addicted to meth. Go buy some meth and plant it in Steve’s dresser. Then call social services. Make sure that, when you drop off the kid at the adoption agency, that you tell the social workers that the kid is all fucked up in the head, that he tortures animals in the backyard. You hear that Steve? You’re kid’s going to grow up in a foster home without parents! I’m going to make sure that your kid’s eating nothing but egg salad sandwiches, alone in some government run house for degenerate brats for the rest of his life!

Steve, I’m trying to put myself in your shoes right now, trying to imagine what you must be going through and, you know, I can only think of one way out of your situation. I’m not going to say it on TV, because I don’t want to get in any trouble here but, you know what I’m talking about. What’s it going to be Steve? Huh?

I’d also like to thank the Academy! I’d like to thank my loving family; I couldn’t have done it without your support! And I’d like to thank God! Thank you Jesus for all of the blessings in my life! Good night everybody!

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