Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a group of young-hearted Americans awoke to the most beautimus morning of their life.
CUT! CUTTTT!!! HOLD IT, HOLD IT, STOP TAPING! You idiot! The script says beautiful, not beautimus! Beautimus isn't even a word!
But Mr. Director sir, this is a story about Mother G, and she is more than beautiful, she is beautimus, just ask Slappy.
WHAT!!!!???? Who is this Mother G!!!??? And who the hell is Slappy? This is supposed to be a documentary on Glamis.
Oh, I see you've seen the Slappy shirt. Well nobody really knows who Slappy is, but Nobody Dune Like Slappy Dune. And Mother G is what many of us who love Glamis call her, she prefers Mother G over Glamis.
Look pal, actors are a dime a dozen, I'll run you off this set if you don't start speaking English and reading the script correctly. What do you mean you "love" "her?" Mother G, arrgghh, I mean Glamis, is just a bunch of sand in the desert. How can anyone love a pile of sand?
I tell you what, Mr. Director, or should I say, "PAL," it sounds to me like you aren't qualified to make a documentary about Mother G. Have you even been to visit her? Ever been on a dune ride on her beautimus rippled dunes? If you had you would understand the love we have for Mother G.
WHAT!!!! You little punk, you're questioning my qualifications as a director??? For your info, Mr. Out of Work Actor, I've made 48 documentaries on 48 different recreation areas and never had to visit one of them. I'm not going to get dirty visiting some outdoor place. I just send my camera crews out for a little footage and then hire some low-life actor that works for beans, like you, to spew some babble on camera. None of the other actors have ever given me problems like you, I guess they valued getting a paycheck, unlike you.
I'm curious, Mr. Director, who financed your other 48 documentaries?
Well, the Sierra Club, of course. They pay LOTS of money for a director like myself that is open to their ideas. They tell me what to have my actors say about each area. They give me a few made-up "facts" and tell me to just wing-it from there. Who really cares if the facts are correct, the public will believe anything they see on TV.
First off, Mr. SLEAZE BALL, you don't need to fire me, I QUIT!!!!!!!! Secondly, you have no clue what is going on in the real world. The Sierra Club has paid you off to spew their lies, which makes you one of the lowest forms of life on Earth! I'm not going to sit here and let you produce a "documentary" about Mother G when you have no idea what she is about, or the people that love her. Hundreds of thousands of people enjoy visiting Mother G each year. She is part of our family, part of our life. Someone so shallow as yourself could never understand that Mother G means more to us than anything else in the world. You make me sick!
What wa$ that you $aid? Hundred$ of thou$and$ of people go there and love thi$ place? Maybe I need to film a $tory from your $ide of the fence. How much money do you think your $ide would pay for a documentary that i$ in favor of you people?
I tell you what, Mr. Director, you are more than welcome to join us at Mother G any weekend you want. We will show you why we love her so much. And after a weekend of more fun than you have ever had in your life, you will begin to understand where I am coming from.
I have to leave the studio?
Yes.
Without getting paid?
Yes.
Well nevermind then, I'll just stick with the Sierra Club, they pay well and don't worry about facts like you do or make me visit the places we are making a story about.
Some people just don't get it.
What did you say?
Nevermind, go back to fairy tale land.