Look out, Butterstick

A well-dressed man on his way down K Street answers his mobile.

“Hey ‘stick, what’s happening?”

“What the fuck? You know what’s happening. What the hell is this I hear about Atlanta trying to edge me out?”

“Oh yeah, that. Look, what can I say? Lun Lun must have gotten the same fertility doc your mom got.”

“That’s not the answer I’m looking for, Jerry. I’m Tai Shan, I’m the cute baby panda, and that AP reporter described HIM as ‘about the size of a stick of butter.'”

“Well, what ELSE is the size of a baby panda, ‘stick?”

“I don’t care. You’re my publicist, I pay you to think of those things. Now do your job and get the cameras back to the Panda Habitat in DC.”

“Look, Tai Shan, why don’t you come on down to the office this afternoon, and we’ll talk about a new direction for your career.”

“Why would I need a new direction? I’m Butterstick! Wonkette loves me. People line up out the doors to see me.”

“‘Stick, you’re not going to be young and cute forever. And this guy? He may be pink and hairless now, but he’s younger than you, and in a month or two, he’s going to be cuter than you.”


The man mutters to himself. “God, you can’t tell that guy anything.”

1 Comment so far

  1. Mike (unregistered) on September 7th, 2006 @ 11:00 am

    I no longer obey Butterstick. Shania, the Mr. Potato Head molesting octopus at the National Aquarium, has won my heart.

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