Supercon Page #4

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(LAUGHTER)

Get the f*** outta here.

Prick.

ANNOUNCER:
(OVER SPEAKERS)

Attention, Supercon.

Remember, personal hygiene

affects everyone.

Hey.

If you smell someone,

tell someone.

Keep it in the pants, man.

Skip.

Hey, you see that guy?

Is he your type?

Over you?

A thousand times, yes.

How about Adam King of

the C*cks over there?

He's a prick.

Hides it well

from the fans though.

Well, you and Mr. Sulu,

that really happening?

Listen, you need

to let this go.

You're too pretty

to give good head.

Never had to work for it.

I'm just not that into you.

When you're banging

Chairman Mao,

do you think of me

the whole time

or just during climax?

Which I can only

assume happens

while he's neatly folding

clothes in the other room.

Is neatness even

a racial stereotype?

If it's not,

it should be, right?

I don't f*** racists.

Bye, Felicia.

Cold, cold.

MAN:
(ON PA) Football is in

my possession, RTV, over.

Copy that. Callahan's on his

way to your office, sir.

He's got money from

the first round of photo ops.

Is it true he's a Navy Seal?

What?

I'm surrounded by idiots.

We're still having

that little issue.

- Copy that.

- Back over there.

Okay. Seth Green, sir,

he needs a new chair.

He's too short, evidently.

Saw the legs off the table.

Sh*t.

That's a good idea, sir.

Um, one more thing.

Adam King is flirting

with our interns,

and she's only 15, Gil.

First off,

my name is Mr. Bartell.

Oh.

Yeah. Second of all,

my man Adam King is signing

for four hours each day.

We move 10 mouth-breathers

through the line a minute.

He gets $75

per signature or a photo.

That's roughly about

$180,000 per day.

120 grand to me.

And 420 grand to him.

Green is for the money

and what?

Gold is for the honey.

(LAUGHS)

Every time he's not signing

autographs and taking photos,

you're literally taking

money out of my pocket.

No, sir, I wouldn't...

Wait. How much does

Adam King charge?

Go pick it up.

- Now?

- Let's go, let's go!

Yes, sir!

- How'd the panel go?

- Could've gone better.

You know, these f***ing things

are making way more money

than we are this weekend.

My show ran for four seasons,

and those four wheels

of shiny wax sh*t

broke down every episode.

One of 'em blew up once.

For no reason at all.

Just kaboom!

Hey, this is weed.

Are you a cop?

Where the hell is Wheeler?

He forgot something

in his room.

BOTH:

He's taking a sh*t.

- (PHONE RINGING)

- Oh, my God.

(RINGING CONTINUES)

I gotta call you back, Dad.

(CAR APPROACHING)

I know.

You're speechless.

Thought we were getting

an Uber.

Everyone, meet

Mr. Sean and Mr. Robert.

- Hey, guys.

- Together, they are NerdGasm.

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