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EPISODE #304 - CHRISTMAS IN
NYC
This week's
episode opened with a clip of Jessica attempting to cook. Her
recipe for flavor? Dump 92 pounds of salt on top of
the food, simmer for 5 minutes, and repeat. In a tragic,
related story, the Surgeon General, who had recently written a
book entitled "SALT: How It Can Fuck You Up Royally,"
was found unconscious in his home clutching a Jessica Simpson voodoo
doll and a bottle of Morton's Salt Substitute. What does it
mean?
Since Jessica was in Louisiana pretending she has what
it takes to be Daisy Duke, Nick decided to go to New
York City to spend Christmas with his brother. The boys wanted a
live tree for their hotel room, but management wouldn't allow it
because of NYC's strict fire codes. So Nick turned to Drew and said,
"We'll just find a way to sneak it in." Good idea, because no one
will notice a SIX FOOT TREE being smuggled through the
lobby. Who the hell do they think the doorman is
there, Stevie Wonder?
So across the street went the boys, in search
of the perfect tree. They were shown several specimens from Nova
Scotia, which Nick quickly rejected. "No foreign trees!
I want a tree from the USA and the USA ONLY!"
Nick demanded. He then pulled down his pants to reveal
the tattoo of George W. Bush he recently had drawn on his penis. And the
likeness was quite scary. I will say this... Nick's blood sure does
run Red, White, and GET A GRIP, doesn't
it?
Back across the street they went, with their AMERICAN
tree and their AMERICAN garland in tow. They paused for a moment
outside the door to come up with a plan to remain unseen. Try to
convince the bellhop Ed McMahon was naked outside doing the Irish
jig? Tell the guy at the front desk Charlie Brown's upstairs and his
friends will never talk to him again unless this tree is up there
pronto? Call Ron Jeremy and ask him to shove it down his
pants, blaming any excess bulge on Viagra? Nope. The boys
decided to simply make like 2 sprinters from Kenya and make a mad
dash towards the elevator. And it worked. Guess Stevie Wonder
WAS workin' the door there after all.
Meanwhile, Jessica was working out hard in the
gym with her trainer. She said, "I stink like a man." Ah yes,
but is she pH balanced for a woman? Jessica then spent the
next 2 minutes saying, "I smell," "I am so gross," and then my
personal favorite, "I stink like a nasty stinker." And at that
very moment, I secretly wished I could have replace her
antiperspirant with a nice strong bottle of
"SHUT-THE-FUCK-UP."
Back in New York, Nick's brother made fun of him for picking
out colored lights to go on the tree. Nick explained it by saying,
"I was drunk when I bought them." Fine. That works. But how does he
explain away marrying Jessica Simpson, hmm? A year long crack binge
perhaps?
Next, Nick's dad,
stepmother, and younger brother Isaac arrived at the hotel. Isaac,
the poor boy, looked like the lovechild of Avril
Levine (minus two scary fang teeth) and the guy who played "Elf
#7" in The Santa Clause:
Nick decided to take little
Isaac to FAO Schwartz to get him a Christmas present. The store's
tour guide pointed out several fine choices, including a $20,000
lifesized stuffed elephant that's been planted by the elevator
in the store since the Reagan administration. Great choice, lady.
Because that's right on top of every teenaged boy's Christmas list:
"I want a new Tony Hawk skateboard, a dirt bike ramp, and ooh! ooh!
A giant stuffed elelphant would really make me say
`Yuletide!'"
Isaac didn't want anything from
FAO Schwartz. I can't say I blame him. Every year it's the same
thing for me: I get dragged to that store, and I walk around
blankly staring at the yuppie crap they peddle, wondering who
would pay $525 for a plastic vomiting baby doll (excluding Michael
Jackson, naturally). But I digress.
As Isaac was leaving,
Nick said to him, "Pick something out for yourself and send me the
bill."
Time passes. Nick is back home. Ding dong, it's the
postman with a registered letter. And no, he didn't ring twice.
Isaac's bill had finally arrived. "Trip to Vegas, $17,000. Hiring
Julia Roberts to be my personal whore for 5 days, $600,000. The look
on my stupid brother's face: PRICELESS."
Ok, fine. That
didn't happen. But it should have.
And that brought this
week's wackiness to an end. Stay tuned for next week, when the
couple goes to Miami to celebrate New Years Eve. And it rains. A
lot.
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