Okay, I guess I have no choice but to do the interview. But I'm not talking about you-know-what. I'm not. I simply will not do it. They better not ask the question. We can make them. That's what we pay the SID for isn't it and--
Oh shit they asked it...stay calm and do exactly as you were coached to do: strain your cheek muscles so that your mouth curls in an upward direction that displays your teeth (known as a "smile") and then sort of relax yourself for a few seconds. Throw in a goofy arm gesture of exasperation. You can do this. You can sell it. We need them to think I have humor. Humor, that's what I'm supposed to be working on. C'mon, Nick you can do this...
BOOM. NAILED IT.
Finally done with that garbage. Got it out of the way. No more canned stupidity, just me in front of the reporters. Not that those clowns will stay on message, but at least I can crush them in an open forum. SIGH. It's just once a year, Nick. Get up there, talk some football, appease the masses, get out and get a nice lean turkey wrap. Here goes.
Oh. Oh hell. Was she looking at my nose for just a split-second too long? Is the blemish showing? Damnation! Two layers of base and a dab of tanning spritz and it still shows. Time to fire that cosmetologist's ass. You miss ONE day of your face-moisturizing regimen and all hell breaks loose. This will NOT happen again.
Okay. Shake it off. Maybe one of these half-wits will ask a question that requires something approaching human-level intelligence and--
Shiiiiiit. I knew it was too much to wish for. Why do I have to answer these questions each year? Don't tell me to 'talk about' something when you can't even be bothered to familiarize yourself with the basic history of the nickel package. Christ, this is a waste of my time. Does Stephen Hawking have to go answer questions at a third grade science fair? Does Mick Jagger give Chris Martin dating advice?
I think perhaps I will feign illness next year. This is the absolute worst waste of my time. Even television watching at least stimulates about 3% of my brain cells. This is utterly unbearable. Okay. Finally almost done. Let's answer a couple more. Surely I'll get one thoughtful one. I mean...this is the highlight of these guys' years, right? They actually look forward to this shit, plan for it for months, so when they get the chance to ask a question it's gotta be huge, right? Surely they put serious thought into them. Maybe I'll get lucky and actually have to think for a split-second before answering and--