“Life is sure funny,” he thought to himself. “I tell a press conference that it was the biggest audience ever and they attack me. I simply repeated the same line at the Emmys and they laughed like crazy. They love me.”
Just then a man entered. He was wearing a shiny suit and seemed very confident.
“Spicy, baby! You were amazing! You killed! The Emmy Awards haven’t been that funny in years!”
Spicer swallowed his drink and responded, “Thanks. Who are you?”
“I’m your agent!” the man responded.
“Oh. I have an agent?”
“Try surviving around here without one!” the agent chuckled. “This Emmy appearance is just going to make these other gigs work out so much better. After a few months of these bits, People will completely forget what a toady mouthpiece you were!”
Spicer nodded. “That would be nice.”
“Ok, SNL wants you.”
Spicer’s eyes went wide. “To host?”
Again, the agent chuckled. “No, not at all. It’s a cereal skit. You come out in the bunny outfit!”
“The bunny outfit? I haven’t done that since George W. was in the White House.”
“The Bunny outfit,” the agent replied, sternly. “And then you say ‘Political Tricks are for kids, silly rabbit!’”
“But I’ll be the one in the rabbit costume.”
“These guy are professional comedy writers. They know what they’re doing,” the agent said as he grabbed a bottled water.
Just then the door opened and another man entered. His smile was dazzling as he looked Spicer up and down.
“Spicy-baby! Start smiling, I have your first endorsement all lined up!”
This caught Spicer off-guard. “Really? I’m shocked. Wait, who are you? What am I endorsing”
“I’m your manager, Spicey! You’re going to be a household name. Think of it, you and Busch beer! Picture this, you’re standing there, in the warehouse, AMONG the Busches! Get it? Among the Busches! You peek around and say how much you love it in the Busches! It’s advertising gold!” The manager couldn’t stop chuckling.
“Wow,” Spicer said, disappointedly, “that’s quite a call-back to a very embarrassing time in my political career.
“Such as it was,” the agent noted.
“Yeah, wait, what?”
That’s when Spicer’s new life coach entered.
“Man, Sean, the offers are just rolling in! It’s getting hard to choose!”
“Have we met?”
“Spice-Spice baby! I’m your life coach! Now drop and give me twenty!”
This got a laugh from Spicer. Until he realized she was serious. The conversation kind of slowed down until Spicer completed his task.
“Excellent,” the life coach bellowed. “You have to be in shape for the confeve endorsement tour.”
“Confeve? I can’t endorse that. It was a gibberish term I had to…”
“Endorse?” said the manager.
“Well, yes, but, it’s not a thing,” Spicer tried to insist.
“It is now!” the life coach chimed in. “It trends constantly on Twitter. We’d be crazy not to cash in on it! The iron is hot!”
Mopping his brow, Spicer finally had to ask, “So, what is it?”
“Does it matter?”
That’s when the manager piped in, “You just go out there and sell it like your life depended on it!”
“Make ‘em believe!” added the agent.
“Well, sure, I did it once, I suppose…” Spicer responded.
“Supposin’ is for saps!” the life coach snapped. “You’re your own man now, so listen to us!” She handed him a sandwich board that said “CONFEVE” in bold letters on both sides
Just then the agent’s cell phone chirped. “Hello? Yes, he’ll do it!” The called ended and the agent returned his attention to Spicer. “Bam! You got a new gig!”
“Wow, you don’t waste any time!”
“You’re cleaning out Sarah Huckabee’s garage!”
“Why?” asked Spicer.
“It’s for a new reality show!” the manager replied.
Spicer didn’t look thrilled. “I’m not sure I go for that,” he said.
“And your co-star is Anthony “the Mooch” Scaramucci!” added the life coach.
“No, no,” answered Spicer. “I don’t care for that at all.”
“And he’s getting paid twice as much as you.”
“That’s crazy!” said Spicer. “I had the job like 40 times longer than him!”
“That’s the way the mic drops.”
“Show business isn’t as much fun as I thought it would be.” Spicer lamented. “I can’t believe the only reason I was invited here was so people could mock me over my various inadequacies while working for the Trump Administration!”
With that, the group laughed.
“Show business? Did you think this was show business?” the life coach said.
“It isn’t?” Spicer asked.
“No! This is purgatory!” the manager said.
“Wow, I thought that was self-evident! It’s been set up just for you!” the agent added. “Ha! He thought this was show business!”
As they left, Spicer heard a sinister organ chord. Spicer stood there, assessing the situation. “Drat! I fell for it again!” Resigned, he put on the sandwich board and made his way out yelling, “Confeve! Confeve! Get your nice hot confeve here!” all the while.