Mr. Pollard, I've got a Mr. Bran Zetafret on the line from the McDonald's Corporation.
Ooh! They must be calling about the uniforms. I heard from my intern that they gave us a "shout-out" on the "internet". Patch him through.
Mr. Pollard? Hi! This is Bran Zetafret, VP for Midwest Marketing here at McDonald's.
An honor to speak with you Mr. Zetafret. May I say you have a very unusual last name! What is that, Greek?
Coptic Christian, actually. But I'm here to talk to you about your delightful new uniforms.
Thank you! I saw your comments on "Twitter". Now, I have to be honest — we weren't really thinking of McDonald's when we designed them. The fact that all-mustard yellow pants and ketchup-red helmets look a lot like your corporate icon just never clicked for us. I hope you're not mad.
Mad? Heavens no. In fact, we've been looking for a major college program to lavish our vast corporate fortunes on, and your uniforms convinced us that ISU is the program we'd like to sponsor.
*Unnhh* [low, barely audible moaning and panting]
Mr. — Mr. Pollard? Are you alright?
Dear god, I think he's had a heart attack. Mrs. Blankenship — are you still on the line? Is Mr. Pollard okay?
He's on the floor, licking his palms.
Corpor... Corporate sponsorship? I'm sorry. My mind just went away for a while. Um... yes, we might be interested in coming to some sort of arrangement with you and your... vast ... corporate ... fortunes. [moaning recommences]
Well, good! I think we should move fast on this. I'd like to set up a press conference for tomorrow to announce our new $200 million Cyclonald's Foundation.
Two ... two ... hundred. Did you say ... •Hrrrnh*
We'll meet at your athletic offices, but I need you to bring a few things. Do you think you can do that, Mr. Pollard?
I would do literally anything for you, milord.
Great! First I need you to go to the nearest limestone quarry and hand-pick the finest 200 pounds of limestone dust you can find.
Yes, whatever. Yes. Yes. I'm on it.
Next I need you to go to Yosemite in California and get me a branch from a giant sequoia tree. I do have to warn you, though. There have been wildfires there recently, and they may be spraying retardant —
HEY!? STOP RIGHT THERE MISTER!
What? Did I say something —
NO ONE GETS TO CALL ME THAT! I'VE WORKED TOO LONG AND TOO HARD TO PUT UP WITH THAT KIND OF TALK ANYMORE.
I don't under—
I TOOK THAT TEST AND MY MOM TOLD ME THAT NO ONE GETS TO CALL ME THAT ANYMORE SO YOU NEED TO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!
What? No, no. "Retardant" is just this red stuff they spray on trees to put out wildfires. I can call it "fire-putter-outer" if you prefer.
OH! [long pause] Oh. Okay then. Ahem. Where was I.... umm, oh yeah. I hear and I obey, master.
Good. The last thing I need you to do is buy a stick of Revlon Red Lacquer lipstick and smear it all over your lips, then put on your excellent new all-gold uniform.
[writing] Revlon ... Red Lacquer. Got it. This should all be no problem at all, my liege.
Great! I'll see you tomorrow. [hangs up]
Do you think he bought it?
I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
*** THE NEXT DAY AT THE IOWA STATE ATHLETIC OFFICES •••
I am here to officially state my disappointment with certain unnamed corporations who fail to follow through on planned press conferences. I tried to deal with this internally, but it’s no longer fair to put our cameramen, our backdrop drapers, and our podium-setter-uppers, in this position. Plus I GOT ALL THE STUFF AND GOT COVERED IN RED FIRE-PUTTER-OUTER. MR. ZETAFRET YOU COPTIC BASTARD! YOU DOUBLE-CROSSED ME!
[is handed note from off-camera]
What's that? There's no Bran Zetafret at McDonald's? And it's unlikely he would call from a 319 area code? And Zetafret is not a Coptic name? And there are things called anagrams? And they are rearrangements of letters? And Bran Zetafret rearranges to form... GODDAMNIT!!!