Nola’s January

 

Shumway, Nola Shumway… I like my olives garish and I hate martinis.

Nola was recently asked to be involved in the first major meeting at the new administration’s white house. Dressed in her Sunday best, she skipped over to 1550 Pennsylvania Avenue, kicked in the front door and scared some little old lady half to death. She then skipped over to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, kicked in the door and then kicked the secret service agent in the shins after being told she could not bring in a razor blade. “It’s not for them, it’s for me, I promise.” No luck, razor blade-less but full of joy and cheap beer she proudly took her place at the table alongside some of America’s most beloved leaders and also some of America’s priority targets. As his first order of business, Barack (he enjoys being called by his first name, he’s just like everyone else) brought a few great men, some swine, and Nola together to finally solve the problem that has been plaguing the country for several years. Now, they told Nola no audio recording, but Nola doesn’t like to be told what to do… The following transcript is what took place on January 21, 2009 in an undisclosed nondescript office in the White House:

Barack: Young Lady, Gentlemen and Kim Jong Il, I would personally like to offer my gratitude that you all agreed to be here today. First, let me say that everything said in this room today is completely confidential and also will ultimately have little effect on my decision. With that said, I want to make it very clear- I do not want any of us to leave this room until we’ve come to a solution….I believe it is an absolute necessity to create a playoff system in the BCS.

 

(Medvedev is seated next to Putin in a kiddie chair. Putin whispers to Medvedev who responds to Obama)

Medvedev: BCS?

Nola: You can remember it by thinking-Beslan Children’s School. (To Putin) Right Vlad? May I call you Vlad?

Medvedev: Who is this annoying child? Can she please be disposed of?
(Putin whispers to Medvedev something inaudible)

Nola: Maybe I remind him of one of the little Beslan kids. Shame. I know…

Joe Pa: Are we going to get back to football soon?

Barack: (smiling) relax Joe we’ll get to it.

(Shaking sound is heard, sounds like ice)

Kim Jong Il: (to Putin in perfect Russian) работая на новой игре. Я полюбил бы для вас прочитать его.

Barack: Ah, Kim, or may I call you Yuri? (Kim smiles and nods) Yuri, I am so pleased you could make it. I know that you have not been well.

Hugo Chavez: All lies published by the Americans.

Nola: (pours from a shaker into a glass, hands to Putin) Red Bull Vodka, Vlad? Can Medvedev have one?

JoePa: (to Barack, looking over at Medvedev and Putin) I think they’re gonna stop it cold.

Chavez: Relax Mr. Paterno, (laughing) it seems you might be paranoid. Maybe you’re getting a little too old for this kind of thing. Have you ever thought of retirement in Venezuela?

JoePa: (angry) Okay look asshole, I’ll go when I’m ready to go, and you of all people can certainly understand that. We’re talking football, let’s talk football.
(shaking sounds)

Putin: I don’t see value in changing old system. Keep computer system and fudge numbers. That way your best teams always get in no matter how much they lose.

Nola: (to Barack, handing him a drink) Black Russian, O?

Barack: Ah, thank you Nola. (raises glass) In honor of our great countries coming together once again! I really think you’re on to something Vlad. Let me ask you, what do you think about strength of opponent being a factor?

 

(Medvedev starts to speak, Putin hushes him)
Putin: Russia has never factored strength of opponent. Why should America?

Nola: Hey Vlad, about that, if you haven’t the interest in the strength of the opponent I was wondering…

Putin: (finally smiling) yes, my child…

Nola: Hows about you invade and occupy America? Then the English can liberate us! And my sweet Prince Harry will march with his brigade into my city and rescue me and we’ll finally be together. Whadda ya say, Vlad?

Madoff: (joining from satellite) Why don’t we just make all the teams pay money to get into the playoffs?

Barack: (trying) Yes, but then how long would the playoff season last?

Madoff: Well, we only have an eight team playoff.

Barack: …rrrright…well thanks for joining us Mr. Madoff.

Madoff: Oh, please, call me Bernie.

Barack: No thanks. (to Nola) Cut his feed.
Nola: sure thing.

Nola pushes a few buttons on the conference room telephone and all of a sudden a man appears behind Madoff on the TV. He pulls out a machete and slits Madoff’s throat. He drags him out of the chair and the feed goes dead.

The room is silent. Nola looks up and smiles.

Nola: Please continue.

Mr. No on 8 spokesperson: Mr. President, first of all I would like to say thank you so much for having us here. We are honored. But I would like to point out that you are about to make a very hypocritical decision. After all, tradition is the reason we homosexuals are not allowed to properly proclaim our love for one another. Traditionally marriage is between a man and a woman and you have made it clear that you support that tradition…
(Nola starts making a cocktail)

Mr. Arab: Man with man is disgusting and should be punished.

Nola: Sex on the Beach, Mr. Arab?

Putin: She’s funny, no?

Mr. Arab: She would be killed for less where I am from.

Barack: She is protected here.

Mr. No on 8: excuse me… I was talking…

Nola: (hands drink to no on 8) Cosmo?

Mr. No on 8: bless you child, now as I was saying, Barack, it would be a huge mistake to change this football thingy when you already came out (Nola laughs) against changing the laws so that gays can marry.

Nola: (goes over to Kim Jong Il) What is your play about?

Kim Jong Il: You speak Russian?

Nola: (whispering) I kinda have a bit of a crush on Vlad. I thought speaking his language would give me a better shot. And, don’t say anything, but I’m trying to get him drunk. So…the play?

Kim Jong Il: (suddenly animated) Well, it‘s about a little boy who dreams of joining the Russian Ballet only to be kidnapped and sent to a very poor country. He eventually escapes and finds a boy who looks just like him to take his place. No one notices that he has ever left.

Nola: (handing him a cocktail) That’s sweet, Blow job? …Wait, we gotta do it right. Hugo, let Kim take a blow job from your legs. (looks over to Barack) I love hanging with our enemies! Or I guess we can now say….Frenemies!!!!

Barack: Okay, so far we think a playoff is a good idea? Or we think it is better to just leave it as a tradition?

Chavez: You know who I always liked? Nixon….

(JoPa flies over the table about to deck Hugo Chavez)

Chavez: (running from the table) it’s the only time in your history that your country made any sense to me!

Barack: Gentlemen, gentlemen.

Nola: (leaning into the Arab) and so I’d say ‘Jesus, come down from that cross, I want to pick a fight with you.’

Mr. Arab: (laughing) You….you…you would die so quickly in my country….but I think you’re funny.

Nola: If you liked that one you’ll love this…. I was walking down the road one day and I saw Muhammad laying on the side of the street with his head stuck under a VW bus-

Mr. Arab: (stands up and pulls out sword) Infidel! Dirty slut! You’ll die by my blade!

(Putin gets up in a flash and disarms the Arab with lightning speed, throws Arab to the ground and walks over to Nola, who has been thrown on to the floor. He grabs her hand and leads her back to the table.)

Putin: My child.

Nola: My Prime.

(They smile, staring at each other)

Chavez: (out of breath and circling the table, running away from Joe Paterno) Why not propose playoff system like you want and cut off funding to schools who don’t agree.

Nola: Guys…guys… and Kim… It’s simple, playoffs, like O wants, and we break it into brackets. First bracket we call One Dumb Game.

Pete Carroll: Thank you Nola.

Nola: Don’t mention it. It’s basically the bracket for the teams who have one really stupid retarded mind blowing ridiculous loss to a crappy, unranked bad team…

Pete Carroll: That was harsh.

Nola: (Nola turns to Pete) You needed to hear it. Spritzer? (hands to Pete) Anyways, then we’ll have the “Football Country” bracket. All the teams from football country will play within this bracket.

Putin: (with his hand on Nola’s thigh) I’ve never heard of…this…Country of Football?

Nola: shh…it doesn’t really exist, but we like to humor them. They lead very, very dull lives otherwise… Okay, next bracket is called “They lost nothing to Nobodies” which will include your Utahs…Hawaiis, Boise st..etc.

Barack: Nola!

Nola: I’m sorry, O; Hawaii is not a force to be reckoned with! You need people around you who will tell the truth.

Barack: You’re right, go on…

Nola: Finally…we’ll have the BCS computer number ones and twos bracket. So that is four brackets with eight teams, all representing the dynamics of college football that make it sometimes irritating. Problem solved! They all play each other to find the eventual champion.

Mr. Hamas: You can’t just create brackets!

Mr. Israel: These brackets don’t exist!
(They look at each other and smile)

Nola: They agreed! They’re in love! This calls for a drink! (Nola furiously shaking cocktails)

Nola: (hands to Mr. Israel) Gazakame? (and then hands Mr. Hamas a drink with a shot inside) Car Bomb?

Barack: Nola!

(Mr. Hamas and Mr. Israel start to laugh with each other, clink glasses act as if they will down the drink and then dump the drinks out over their shoulders)

(amidst the cheering and celebration Vlad walks over to Nola and leans over her shoulder and whispers into her ear.)

Putin: Nola, if you come to Russia I will make you my princess.

Nola: (blushing) But I’m eight. Wouldn’t we get into trouble?

Putin: (laughing as he scoops her up into his arms) You are such a silly girl…Do you know how silly you are? Yes…you’ll come with me and we’ll live well.

Nola: We’ll vacation in Thailand. We won’t be bothered.

(Nola walks toward Barack, he leans into her ear)

Barack: Perfect. We’ll be in touch my Sweet Pretty Young Nola…

Nola: Tell your girls I’m going to miss them. They have to come visit okay.

Barack: Definitely.

Nola: Hey, O, what are we going to do about the BCS?

Barack: Oh…well, I guess we’ll just take the Championship out of it and call it what it is…BS.

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