47.5 hours later (read Part 1 if you haven’t already), I was waiting in my humble abode for Ivan Reitman to arrive for our scheduled interview. I had cleaned up the place a bit, which actually involved hiding nearly everything I owned, as everything in my home is embarrassing. I arranged my living room so that the two couches were facing each other, with a coffee table in between.
Now arranged tastefully on the coffee table:
The table before I hid everything. I have no idea where most of this came from.
- my notepad (with prepared questions)
- 2 pens
- 2 pencils
- an eraser
- a pencil sharpener
- a bottle of Wite-Out brand liquid paper
- a bottle of peach schnapps (the only liquor I had, as I haven’t drank at home since my blog became so popular)
- 2 glass tumblers (clean)
- 4 coasters (if I have any pet-peeves, it’s savages who don’t use coasters)
- My reel-to-reel tape recorder, with microphone (never failed me before!)
- A bag of cotton candy (I heard the Ivan loves the stuff)
- A copy of Leif the Viking-Adulterer, the screenplay that I wrote (just in case Ivan is looking for a new movie to make.)
As I was admiring my beautifully arranged items, the front door suddenly burst open with a crash of wind and blinding light. The edges of my notepad started furiously whipping, creating an unsettling sound. Despite this fanfare, Ivan slid inside, closed the door gently, gave me a quick “Hey, sup,” and removed his shoes before darting for the couch and shoving a fistful of cotton candy into his mouth.
“I see you’ve prepared my favorite food. I like people who do research beforehand. Thanks for accommodating my schedule. I’m a very busy man, so I do most of my interviews at 4:15 AM.” When Ivan said the interview would be in 2 days, he meant it. Down to the minute.
“Good to see you. Thanks for taking off your shoes, I just had the carpet shampooed. Not to be rude, but did you forget to wear socks?”
“Nuh, I never wear ’em. They strangle the ankles. You should take yours off.”
“Thanks for the tip, but my feet get cold. Should we begin the interview now?”
“You betcha! But remember, it’s a Q & A style interview, and you have to record absolutely everything I say.”
“I did remember you saying that, and I’ve got this tape recorder so that I don’t miss anything.” I pointed towards the microphone sitting directly in front of him.
Be careful! It's an antique!
“HOLY SHIT! That’s totally WIZARD-WEASEL! I haven’t seen one of those since the 70s! Lemme give this a try…”
He then serenaded me with a rousing rendition on The Offspring’s Pretty Fly For a White Guy, complete with air-guitar while jumping on the couch.
“Thanks for that Ivan, but I haven’t switched the recorder on yet. If we can begin the interview, you know, on the record, then I’ll turn it on.”
“Oh, we’re out of cotton candy. So lets do it! Ready, set, go!”
dongtacular: Ivan, your most recent film, No Strings Attached, was released about a month ago. Tell me what it’s about.
Ivan Reitman: It’s the true life story of me banging Natalie Portman!
DT: I highly doubt that.
IR: What? Why? I only did this movie because it was based on a true story. We only changed the names, places, people, events, added some more sex, more drama, and more jokes. But other than that, it’s all true.
DT: Ok, I haven’t seen the movie, but I just can’t see you doing that with Natalie Portman. I mean, you’re kinda old, ugly, and haven’t made a blockbuster movie since the 80s. She’s young, intelligent, talented, and smoking hot.
Sexy, but has that classic beauty as well.
IR: Fucking eh, man. She’s a scorcher. Alright, so, I didn’t jam her clam, but she did gaff my best boy, if you know what I mean.
DT: I don’t think so, Ivan. Plus, haven’t you been happily married for a real long time?
IR: Would you believe she boom-mic’d my balls?
DT: Next question. What was your impression of Ashton Kutcher? Did he rise above his Dude Where’s My Car typecasting?
IR: I don’t give a FUCK about ‘Ashley Koocher’, or whatever he calls himself. This movie was about Natalie Portman being a hot-piece-of-ass, which she totally is. Speaking of that, why was this movie so popular with the ladies? Do they like ogling over Natalie’s ass too? They should… oh… oh no… crap. Piss-sticks. Uh, hold on. I gotta take this. Keep recording though, every damn word I speak is sacred.
Ivan's ringtone is Intergalactic by the Beastie Boys. I'm impressed with his taste in music.
IR: No. No. NOOOO! Anne, I told you to stop calling me. After you puked in my shoes on the set of Six Days Seven Nights, I just can’t forgive you. I wore those shoes for years after that without knowing! Well yeah, I still have them, those are the best shoes I own. They’re over by the door, but I can’t get them. I’m doing an interview. YUH-HUH, ’cause some of us still make movies to prolong our fame, instead of BECOMING A LESBIAN FOR A WHILE.
After that, Ivan slapped his phone closed, and spin-kicked it directly out my window. His expression slowly evolved from his trademark drunk-glare to his typical goofy grin, and he bolted barefoot out the door. I knew he would be back.
Ivan doesn't mind looking foolish.
Check back next week for the thrilling conclusion to this most titillating interview!