Fevered Egos

I'm here to sing some songs for my mama. One, two, three, four...

Well, folks, this is, uh, kind of a sentimental evening for me because, uh... this is my final live performance I'll ever do, ever. No biggie, no no no no, no hard feelings, no sour grapes whatsoever. I've been doing this 16 years. Enjoyed every second of it. Every plane flight, every segment, every delay, every canceled flight, every lost luggage, living in hotel rooms, every broken relationship, playing the Comedy Pouch in Possum Ridge, Arkansas every fucking year... It's been great! Don't get me wrong

But the fact of the matter is the reason I'm gonna quit performing is I finally got my own TV show coming out next fall on CBS. So, thank you. Finally. It is not a talk show. *mimics a raucous audience* Dear God! Thank you! Thank Jesus! Thank Buddha! Thank Mohammed! Thank Allah! Thank Krishna! Thank every fucking god in the book! *mimics a raucous audience* Please rela- *mimics a raucous audience* No, it's not a talk show. It's a half-hour weekly show that I will host... entitled "Let's Hunt and Kill Billy Ray Cyrus". Cool, cool, alright. So y'all be tuning in? Cool, cool

Cool. It's a fairly self-explanatory plot. Uh... Each week, we let the hounds of Hell loose and we chase that jarhead, no-talent, cracker asshole all over the globe... 'til I finally catch that fruity little ponytail of his in the back. Pull him to his knees, put a shotgun in his mouth like a big black cock of death... *boom* And we'll be back in '95 with "Let's Hunt and Kill Michael Bolton". So...

Thank you very much. I'm just trying to rid the world of all these fevered egos that are tainting our collective unconscious... and making us pay a higher psychic price than we imagine. In fact, that's how I pitched it to the networks exactly. I said, uh, "I'd like to do a show where I rid the world of all these fevered egos that are tainting our collective unconscious." And the guy at CBS said, "Will there be titty?" And, uh... I said, "Sure, I don't know, sure." Boom! A check falls in my lap and, uh... I'm a producer. I never knew it was that easy. All these years I've been trying to write scripts and characters and plots and stories that had meaning. "Will there be titty?" "Sure." Boom! I'm a... I'm a producer now. "Where have you been all our lives, boy? We've been looking for you in Hollywood. What are these titties gonna do?" "...jiggle?" "You're a fucking genius. Give him another check! I can't write enough checks for you. You've answered our prayers in Hollywood. Jiggling titties, you woulda thunk of it?"