For the record, I wrote this a very long time ago, back before Tina Fey was pregnant…perhaps I cursed her. Sorry. And back when John McEnroe had a talk show. I loved hating that show. And back when a bunch of the mentioned movies were in theaters. And a few weeks before the election. So just for future references.
Also I apologize for those of you who were fans of the McEnroe show and might be offended. I watched it and couldn't help but make fun of it. Yes, I watched it. Regularly. Oh stop booing. There's nothing wrong with it. There are dozens of us. Dozens!
On with it then.
Chapter Five: Grim Reaps the Immortal Soul of John McEnroe
Grim torpidly walked up the sidewalk towards Mandy's house but instantly stopped upon seeing the mailbox's flag down. As Mandy's slave, it was almost innate to retrieve the mail so he opened the box and sifted through the letters on his way up to the porch.
"Bill, bill, bill, 'You may have kinda sorta maybe almost won $25,000 if you want', bill, Marquette University, bill, bill, 'You're Invited to Be a Guest on the John McEnroe Show', bi—wait a minute." Grim tossed the other envelopes aside and reread the return address. He then popped open the envelope, unfolded the letter and read the invitation. "Dear Mr. Reaper, You have been selected by tennis burnout John McEnroe to have a guest appearance on his smashing late night talk show tomorrow night. If you can, please show up promptly at 3:00 for the taping and free donuts and coffee afterwards (if you survive the crappy interview). Whoops, I didn't just say that! I meant—"
The writing suddenly and mysteriously ended abruptly. After a moment of confusion, Grim noticed there was more to be read.
"hay john mcenroe here n u butter come 2 my shwo or esle ill come n kill u just lick how i killed my riter here goodby ashole!1"
Grim, instead of sighing, clapped his hands happily. "Oh boy! I've always wanted to be on a talk show! And there will be free donuts and coffee! It's about time I had a break."
So Grim once again ripped a tear in the background and leapt in to transport himself back to New York.
---------------------
"You have five kids, don't you?" McEnroe demanded of Tina Fey who was squishing herself on the furthest end of the couch to be as far away as possible from the evil talk show host.
"No, I don't," she told him waving away the stench of his bad breath that had managed to waft its way over to her.
"Why? Are your ovaries broken?" McEnroe prodded.
"…No, I just—"
"Does your husband hate you?"
"I don't—"
"What was your reaction to Bush choking on a pretzel?"
"That's—"
"I laughed. I shit my pants I laughed so hard."
"I—"
"Would you rather have sex with Chewbacca or Jar-Jar Binks?"
Tina just let her arm drop on her leg and allowed him to ramble on with questions.
"Have you ever gotten so drunk that you made out with your mother and then vomited in her mouth? You were in the Lord of the Rings movie. What was it like being the elf and would you do the dwarf? Have you been sexually molested in a grocery store? If so, was it Michael Jackson? Do you think Dick Cheney will die of a heart attack next week?"
By this time, Tina sprinted across the stage and dove head-first out the open window. This was becoming so redundant that Daniel Day-Lewis had posted a sign that said "Exit Here" with an arrow pointing to the window before jumping out himself.
McEnroe noticed she had left and turned to camera one, his cold, lifeless eyes off to the side as he read his cue card.
"Well, Tina Turner had to leave so now we'll check up on some current events," he said before taking out the same newspaper he'd gotten out five minutes before and read the front cover. "And…yup, he's still dead," he confirmed as he turned the paper to show the headline that read: 'Conan O'Brien Dies! NBC Screwed!'
A bedraggled audience member timidly raised her hand.
"What!" McEnroe acknowledged.
"Er…you shouldn't joke about death. It's not very nice and it's not funny either," she whimpered.
"Shut up!" he yelled, pointing to her. "This is my show and I can joke about whatever the hell I want! No soup for you!"
"Oh no, please!" the woman begged as a guard in an armored uniform yanked away her Top Noodles: the only rations the audience members received. "I need to eat today! I haven't—"
"I said shut up!" McEnroe demanded, snatching up one of his tennis balls and chucking it hard at the woman's head.
Naturally he missed and knocked out one of the stage managers.
"Good catch, Clyde!" he joked dryly and held a grin during the silence.
The 'laugh' sign flickered on and the audience groaned in response, activating the electrical shockers in the microchips planted in their heads which shocked them into laughing.
"Well anyways, my next guest is best known for his role in 'The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy' and now he is currently starring in the films 'Alphie', 'Finding Neverland', 'Saw' and 'Lord of the Rings 5'. Please welcome the Grim Reaper."
Grim glided onto the stage, his trusty scythe in his hands as he giddily made his way over to the couch where McEnroe held out his hand to shake but quickly whipped it away and used it to point and laugh at Grim's gullibility.
Grim sank forlornly into the couch. Maybe this wasn't so great.
"So, Reaps…can I call you Reaps?" McEnroe began.
"Actually, my name's Grim," he corrected.
"I don't care. I'm calling you Reaps. So Reaps, let me ask you something. It's a real important question and I just HAVE to ask…are you a baseball fan?"
The question took Grim aback a bit as he searched for a decent answer. "Well, not really. I don't follow the games much, but I do like the Milwaukee Brewers—"
"Following the sudden death of Conan O'Brien, do you think I have a good shot at hosting The Tonight Show?" McEnroe suddenly asked.
Grim paused. "What…did you do that for? You just asked me if I was a baseball fan not two seconds ago and you didn't let me answer completely."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me rephrase that. What I meant was, if you were trapped on a deserted island with one other person, who would it be and would you do them?"
"What!" Grim sputtered completely flabbergasted. "What kind of question is that!"
"Do you have a pet?"
"No!"
"Do you want a pet?"
"No…"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
"Oh. Well, because we have some pets for you backstage—"
"I don't want a pet!"
"What's your favorite movie?"
"Gah! Quit hopping subjects! You are a TERRIBLE interviewer! I mean, what is this, the 'Jump From Random Question to Random Question Show'!"
"I think that's what 'MCENROE' stands for, yeah," he said.
Grim's jaw dropped open.
McEnroe gave camera one a creepy grin.
Grim cocked his head to the side, completely at a loss for words.
"Who are you voting for?" McEnroe asked.
"And I thought that O'Brien guy was bad…" Grim muttered, rubbing his skull with his fingers and shaking his head sadly.
"You better be voting for Kerry. If you're not voting for Kerry, I'll throw a tennis ball at you."
"Okay, I'm voting for Kerry," Grim ventured.
"LIAR!" McEnroe accused quite loudly as he grabbed a tennis ball and chucked it hard at Grim.
Naturally, he missed and knocked out another stage manager.
"Good catch, Pete!" McEnroe slobbered hysterically as he laughed at his own joke.
That was the last straw.
"Is dat window open?" Grim asked, pointing to the 'exit'.
"Yeah, it's always open. That's how our guests leave."
"Okay, good."
Grim stood up from the couch and walked over to the window.
On the way, he used his scythe to nab McEnroe by the scruff of his shirt and drag him along.
"Hey, what gives? Tell me about your kids!" McEnroe pleaded uselessly as Grim snatched him up and pitched him out the window. "AAAAHHHHHHHHhhhh…"
A soft crunch was heard seconds later.
"That felt good," Grim smiled, brushing his hands together.
"Does this mean we're free?" one of the camera men asked.
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"He's held us captive here since the show began."
"How long has that been?"
"Four months."
"Oh jeez!" Grim exclaimed in horror. "Yes, go! Run free! Go back to your lives!"
"Does that go for us too?" an audience member asked.
"Yes! All of you, go! You're free now!"
Everyone, too exhausted to cheer, filed out of the studio and into the daylight.
"Can I go too?" came a small voice from a dark corner of the set. Grim squinted to see McEnroe's sidekick emerging from the corner to which he was always banished to. "I want to see my family again."
Grim thought a bit. "Mm…nah. You better stay here. Watch over da place."
He used his scythe to rip another portal in the air and disappeared through it.
"Ohhhhh…" the sidekick whimpered as he hugged his knees.
Almost done. Just take a breath, relax and think to yourself, "It's people! The Soylent Green is PEOPLE!"