I do not own Jiminy Glick, because if I did, I would be partying with him instead of writing fanfiction.
There have been many celebrity interviewers in this world, but there is one certain fellow no one will never forget. With glasses that take up his entire face and a doughnut always in hand, Jiminy Glick is a lean, mean, reporting machine. Well, he's not very lean, he's actually quite fat. And he's not mean, he wouldn't hurt a fly. And he's not a machine, either. So basically, he's a reporter. But he's a good one.
Jiminy and I met at a bar on the corner of Philadelphia Avenue and 9th Street. I believe the bar was called "The Rooster's Crow." I ordered a strawberry daiquiri, and he ordered a virgin Cuba Libre. I looked over at that hunk of meat and was instantly blown away. That shape, that form! Those heart-wrenching eyes! I won't give you the gory details, but long story short, we were dating.
After a good 2 months of going steady, Jiminy took me out to a fancy-shmancy restaurant that many people know as Taco Bell. He got down on one knee and said four words that I had been longing to hear: "Will you marry me?"
We married in July in a beautiful horse stable. Our honeymoon was in Paris. Unfortunately, the mood was somewhat dampened when I had to explain to him, ahem, where babies came from. Apparently, he had never heard of the notion. His penis went where?
All in all, we had a great time, and we ended up with twins Matthew and Modine. Guess who we named them after? Matthew Modine!
After a few years, old Jim boy wanted to get back to his heart and soul: Interviewing. By the time Matt and Mo were ten, we were on our way to the Toronto Film Festival!
The Toronto Film Festival, isn't that huge? If you're not dancing in your chair right now, I might as well smack you with a dish towel. Such pathetic coverage, this is. Back where I come from... Breathe, Dixie, calm yourself down... Okay, then. Where was I?
Have I even introduced myself? I am Dixie Peach Glick. All the country men call me a real sweet peach, but my skin is tough. Jiminy loves me truly, and I love him too, even though he's not enough for me sometimes. Our family is sometimes odd, but I think we are a perfect American package.
Back to our story, hmm? Well, my husband Jim was selected from a large group of contestants to be sent to the Toronto Film Festival. Okay, maybe it was from a raffle at a bar, but it's still an accomplishment, right? So we all jumped into our minivan and headed off for good old Canada. I don't need to mention that Jiminy held the map upside down and drove us to Mexico by accident before turning around and going the right way. I don't want to bring that up.
We had reservations for a hotel that seemed great online, but the pictures must have been thirty years old. It was falling apart. The bar was nice, though. Fortunately, we were able to catch a decent room. Jiminy and I broke the bed, so they had to bring in a new one, but it's all good!
We met a creepy man at the bar that had a strangely familiar face. I don't think I knew him, but maybe he had been in a movie or something. He had a weird accent, maybe from smoking, the poor man. But what he told us changed our lives forever. *dramatic music plays*