King Interviews The Grim Reaper

No! Don’t take me! I haven’t even lived! I’ll put up a fight!

You invited me. Silly King.

King: Cut me a break! You’re one scary looking son-of-a-gun. Let’s get right to it. Why Michael and why so close to a major holiday?

Grim Reaper: You’re kidding, right? I don’t select my victims. It’s not up to me to decide! I’m so misunderstood and really a nice dead-spirit-guy. I’m tired of being portrayed or thought of in a dark light. You know, as some kind of meanie. I’m not a monster! But, it had to be this way. Fire couldn’t kill him. Mob of angry parents? Not a chance. Another nose operation? Maybe. Hmm… It would make sense.

King: So it’s not up to you to decide. Are you saying Judge Judy is your boss?

Reaper: Do you ever hear what anyone says? Are the questions in your head banging around so loudly it makes listening impossible? No! Judge Judy?! NO! When did I say I had a boss? Life is a crap shoot. Now can we move on? I must return to sucking the life out of celebrities, Charlie’s Angels style.

King: Uuuuh, most of my questions just went poof. Oddly enough, Farrah Fawcett passed earlier the same day. How can you knock Charlie’s Angels when folks like me are still grieving? *And when will I die?

Reaper: Who wouldn’t want to knock them - boots? Well, not Kate Jackson. I may be a dead-spirit-guy but I’ve got bones. Uh, sorry! It’s tough, this business of taking lives. It gets to me. Anyway, Farrah left after the first season. Heart wrenching. You know gorgeous actresses, when they realize the whole world knows of their beauty they try to act all smart and shit, taking on ‘serious’ roles. *And I sure wish I could tell you when you’ll be eliminated but I don’t get much of a notice. Damn it. Damn it all.

King: Ditto on Kate. I’ve always wondered how she got the gig.

Reaper: Well as far as her acting… Right, it’s a mystery that shall remain in the 70’s. Seriously, don’t look it up on wiki. You’ll kill the wonderment. And that’s all beside the point. I would’ve preferred striking down someone else’s buttocks. Madonna? She hasn’t put out anything worthwhile in ten years, said Guy Ritchie. See? I’m really a caring individual. Now do you want to discuss the works of Bea Arthur? Dom DeLuise? David Carradine? Billy Fucking Mays, bitches? Like it or not he could get our attention. How we responded was a personal choice. More like a lifestyle, really.

King: I can see you’re no social butterfly. Let’s get back to the topic everyone in the free world and China wants us to discuss. Tell us more about Michael Jackson and everyone he ever knew in his lifetime.

Reaper: Have you turned on the news lately?! What more could I possibly add? Why can’t this story die already?

King: Hey, I’m supposed to be asking the questions.

Reaper: Then do it better.

Humph. Well if you want the story to die, why don’t you kill it?

Smart ass.

King Interviews REO Speedwagon, Styx & 38 Special

The King is totally psyched! Our line-up is mind-blowing. Tonight’s guests are fantastically incredible performers. REO Speedwagon and Styx have taken a break from their ‘Can’t Stop Rocking’ tour. I guess they’ve stopped rocking just for me. Also, a special appearance by .38 Special… I can finally go to my giant head and retrieve some questions I’ve been sitting on for years, which hasn’t been easy. I must say, as relieved as I am to have my ass back where it belongs I will miss the familiarity of a certain smell.

First let’s bring out a group who is very near and dear to my heart. With like… 1,005 monster radio hits and such classics as Flash Tan Queen, Little Queenie and Keep Pushin’… This band needs no introduction. REO Speedwagon, come out!

What the… Sorry folks. They’re not here. Wait… What’s that? Okay! They’re out in the parking lot and we’re going live right now!




Da-dum da-dum, da-dah! I finally got on with the King! ‘Cause I can’t fight this feeling anymore. Yeah.

The King is not amused! How did you get out of the garage? I thought it was locked…



I’m your genuine REO Speedwagon! Isn’t that what you wanted? C’mon now. Roll with the changes.



Looks like I’m riding the storm out. But… It’s a short one! So if you don’t take it on the run, baby… ‘Cause that’s the way I want it, baby… That’s right! You’re going straight to the auction block.



Awww, why you gotta be like that honey? Fine. Have it your way. It’s time for me to fly.



Damn straight. Get yo ass back home girlfriend! Now let’s get Styx in here and try to forget the last few minutes. Please, just try to forget.




Hey! We’re so happy to be here! We are Styx!



Nooooo, you’re not. You are definitely not Styx.



We nine glow sticks represent the current and former members of the most awesome and wonderful band Styx!



That is sooooo not right. Listen up chumps, that would make ten members altogether. Not nine! Ten!



Well, the Dennis DeYoung glow stick couldn’t make it. He’s in another world right now. A fabulous world filled with bright, hot lights… The briskly tantalizing and glorious sounds of giant synthesizers making sweet, sweet love. Did you know when synthesizers climax…



Where the F*** is he?



… We sticks are reborn and glow another five minutes. Geez… He’s at a Styx concert. Duh!



As long as you’re here and obviously fans, let me ask one thing before I throw you at the mercy of the kidlets. Back in 1997, a cult known as Heaven’s Gate poisoned themselves to join what they believed were aliens traveling in the wake of a comet. Some say your missing glow stick predicted this event with the song Come Sail Away. Dennis DeYoung… Prophet, or trippin’ hardcore nuts on the acid?



Holy fluorescents! What kind of question is that? It’s just screaming insane asylum…



And that’s where you’re going right now. Bye! Have fun with the kiddies! And I assure you they will never, ever be coming back. Why is this happening to the King? I have a face my mommy loves! And now I’m horribly afraid to call out our last guests. But I kind of, must… And why not shovel more worm poo on this rotting corpse of a show? So without further delaying my inevitable doom, .38 Special?




No need to be frightened, King! I’m just a sexy little thing looking for a place to rest my butt for a spell. See how good I look on your pillow? Keep me under here long enough for the brats to make a discovery and play a super-fun game called Wild West. I can’t wait until I’m in the hands of the lucky bastard playing Cowboy!



Well, anything is better than those phony Styx. What do I need to know? Could you make the King even more horrifying to women, children, hairless men and small animals? Would you be easy for the King to handle?



It’s really simple! Just hold on loosely, but don’t let go. If you cling too tightly, you’re gonna lose control.



Where the F*** were you on 9/11?

King Interviews Mrs. McCain

Welcome back, non-Kotters and hopeful Democrats. It’s been a while! When I interviewed Mrs. Obama we ran out of time and I promised to return soon. Well, I got kind of sidetracked. Before I reveal this next interview I should briefly explain my absence.

You may or may not know this, but I have a kid. King Junior is going through a rough patch in his life right now. You see, he thought it would be cool to smoke some weed. And smoke some more weed. And before long that wasn’t enough to get his buzz on, so he stole six of my beers and had a little party with himself. I knew this day was coming, but I thought for sure he’d puke up his guts and learn the hard way to just stick with the porn. Boy, was I wrong or what?! Anyway, he’s out of rehab now. I sure hope he can stay clean, but I have my doubts. After all, he’s five. You know what little monsters those kindergarteners can be! Whew. It’s gonna take some tough love in the form of shock therapy for this one.

But enough about the King’s problems and suches. It’s time to let you in on a little secret. I may seem pretty gay. In fact, I’m often misjudged by my extensive Barbra Streisand collection. Unfair! Barbra deserves to be loved! Truth is, I also have a huge crush on John McCain’s wife. Don’t believe me? I think a restraining order is proof enough. I know she often looks much older than her birth certificate states, but I still get goose bumps whenever I see her. Well, here’s the interview, for what it’s worth. And it's so short we didn't have time for any commercials...




Hiiiiiiiii, Mrs. McCain. Hiiiiiiiiiiii. Um, Mrs. Obama had to leave. She has kids, you know, and has apologized for not staying here to attack both you and your husband to your face. The network is disappointed, but I’m sure you’re relieved to hear it, and don’t really care about ratings either.




Um, hello?

Yeeeeeesssssss, welcome to the… the… showww.




You’re drooling all over your robe.




Ahhhhhhh, I see. Do you like robes?




I don’t see what that has to do with my husband’s candidacy.




Do you like my robe? I can remove it, if you’d like to try it on. Or, you know, if you want to have a peek at some prime beef.




What the- this is not what I expected!!!!




I’m out of here! Vote for McCain - because I’m filthy rich - not because you want to sex me up.




Can we continue this in private? Where are you going? I have a room. It has a star on the door! That means something, dammit! Oh goshes, I’m sorry! Come back! I’d like to make out - er, make it up to you!!!




Oh shit.

So, stay tuned and maybe next week we’ll reveal the final and extremely pointless interview with Mrs. Clinton and a surprise guest, which was recorded shortly after Barack Obama’s huge victory, when he won the nomination of his party and made history for being black. I mean, made history for- you know what I’m trying to say. Geez, why am I still here, anyway? It’s about time to go rescue the nanny from my five-year-old. Laters!

King interviews Mrs. Obama

Welcome. If you missed King interviews a moody O.J. you can purchase a copy of this very short but inspiring headache at our online store for only a few hundred dollars. What a bargain! You get O.J. and myself in a rare interview without commercial interruption or a goofy intro. And best of all, for every copy sold I get a night of peaceful sleep without a gang of armed thugs breaking into my house to pillage my hard earned cash-stash, which I keep in my detachable robotic arm. By 2020 I should be a full fledged robot. I swear I couldn’t do this job without my pills. Tonight we have a horriterrific lineup that will be broken up into parts because we will run out of time. All of these lovely ladies wanted to be here on the same night because, well, they are stalking each other. First up, Mrs. Obama has left her week long celebration party to grace us with her presence. Then Mrs. McCain will join us. Finally, we’ll clear the set to speak with Mrs. Clinton as she wouldn’t have it any other way. And then, a surprise guest! You just never know what will happen on this awfullicious show. Whew, let me catch my breath for a minute. Why don’t we go to commercial? We’ll be right back after these messages.



GRAB LIFE BY DA LEMONS




Five minutes and ten shots of whiskey later…




Welcome back, lonely old people and bitter Republicans. Michelle Obama has joined us! Mrs. Obama, you must be excited now that it’s official and your husband has a real chance at winning the Presidency. Are you so excited you just can’t hide it? How are you feeling right now?




I’ll tell you Mr. King, it’s surreal. I’m in shock.




Fifty four contests and we won! Yippee! But we’ll be in the White House before you know it, making it black. Yeah!




So what you’re saying is, when you get to The White House it will be called The Black House? I thought your husband had a white mother. Is he black enough to change America for the better? When will he tell the hip hop industry their music has been (for the most part) total crap the last ten years?




My, that is a lot to answer at once. I’ll do my best to make this brief. Yes; that’s true; of course; on the day of his inauguration.




Wow; what an overachiever he is. Taking on a ceremony and entire music industry in one day! But let’s talk about you now. I hear you’ll be guest hosting on the popular daytime talk show “The Spew” in the near future, right alongside the infamous Barbed Whiskers. Is this true, or is it just a rumor? And is it possible for Barbed to tell one story and stick to it?




I think she prefers to be called “Barbie Whiskers” and I really don’t blame her. Some of us aren’t blessed with the best names, after all. And I cannot confirm or deny whether or not I’ll be co-hosting on The Spew. Anything could happen. I’d much rather talk about my husband. That’s why I’m here. And I know nothing of Barbie’s secret love affairs with Rosie O’Mygod and Ronald Frump. As far as I know “The Ronald” is no longer fighting with Rosie over Barbie, and it’s all in the past where it should be.




Well then, I think this one-on-one is over. Sike! I’ve got smelly hard lemonade on the brain, what can I say. Anywho, since you want to talk about your husband so badly, how about that new campaign slogan? Can we get a shot of that?




Here’s the million dollar question, Mrs. Obama. Ba Rock star, or God?

Well we know he isn’t God. That’s Oprah. And he isn’t a rock star. Bill Clinton won that title in the early 90’s. So I’d have to go with… Super Hero.

And a fine one he is. What exactly are his Super Powers?

Healing the sick and underinsured with his magical touch, teleporting troops home with his anti-Republican mind power, getting kids to college with three blinks and an ear wiggle, and helping Mrs. Clinton’s campaign out of debt by the power of Grayskull. Just visit the website; it explains everything.

Goshes, we’re out of time. It was wonderful conversing with you my dear, and best of luck with the campaign. But stay right here! Mrs. McCain will be joining us after a few automobile commercials using popular tunes of times past to tell you little to nothing of what you can expect from their vehicles. At least it’s rock and roll and hey, someone’s gotta pay for this.

Three minutes and ten whiskey shots later…

Oh, fudge packers. We’re entirely out of time now. We’ll continue here on our set and bring the rest of the interviews to you later. It will be just like live, only not. Stay tuned.