From the video description:
Spurred on by his manager’s demands for more publicity, Nick has decided to film a video about the war in the Ukraine, complete with Ukrainian beauties.
And he’s not going to let an actual Ukrainian’s opinions get in the way of his vision.
Nick and Sally’s commentary:
“That was such a fun day at the audition, wasn’t it, Sally?”
“I suppose so, Mr. White.”
“Except for bloody Dickhead showing up and chasing that one blonde away. That was rather unfortunate.”
“Yes, Mr. White.”
“Can’t wait til we shoot this video. Especially the mud wrestling scene… hey, Sally, how would you like to throw on a bikini and rehearse that mud wrestling scene with me later?”
“Oh, um… well…”
“Hmmm… What if I break out the tequila first?”
“Well, maybe.”
Music credits
I used an instrumental mix of a track from my back catalog from my old maQLu project called “Au Revoir, Goodbye Little Whore.” I can’t remember if I have it up anywhere as a free download currently as I was unsatisfied with the original lyrics and wanted to redo the song, but there’s a bunch of other free maQLu downloads available.
Transcript (ie, spoiler alert)
(Nick and Sally are sitting on a sofa in one of the studio live rooms. Nick is “auditioning” a series of blonde girls while Sally sits beside him with a clipboard. A blonde stands in front of Nick.)
NICK: Alright, love. Can you face the other way and bend down to touch your toes?
(She does as asked.)
NICK: Very nice! Give your card to Sally, we’ll be in touch for Round 2. Next!
(She hands it to Sally then leaves as a chubby brunette approaches.)
NICK: Sorry, dear, the part is full. Next!
BRUNETTE: The audition notice said you were looking for trained Ukrainian dancers!
NICK: Yes, exactly. You’re not qualified. Next!
BRUNETTE: I dance with 3 Ukrainian folk dance troupes!
NICK: That’s nice, dear. Next!
BRUNETTE: I’ve won awards for choreographing Hopak dance routines!
NICK: Yes, but you’re not Ukrainian. Next!
BRUNETTE: What?! I was born there, my whole family’s been there for centuries!
NICK: Yes, but the part requires Ukrainian-looking bimbos. Next!
BRUNETTE: Do you even know what we look like?
NICK: Of course, dear; I’ve looked at all sorts of Ukrainian strippers over the years. You don’t look Ukrainian. Next!
BRUNETTE: You’re a fucking pig!
(A blonde comes up and rubs her boobs in Nick’s face.)
NICK: Now, this is what I had in mind.
Nick (to the blonde): Give your card to Sally, sweetheart, we’ll be in touch for Round 2.
BRUNETTE: Where are you from?
BLONDE: Um, my parents were from Sweden.
BRUNETTE: She’s not Ukrainian!
NICK: Oh, who cares? Sweden, Ukraine, close enough.
(Richard enters.)
RICHARD: Holy shit, I’ve died and gone to poon heaven!
NICK: Get your own Ukrainian sluts, Dickhead!
RICHARD (to blonde): Hi. I’m Richard Browne. I have 15 platinum albums on my credits list.
BLONDE: Um, OK?
RICHARD: Wanna fuck?
BLONDE: No!
RICHARD: Bitch!
(Nick gets up and starts to shove Richard towards the door.)
NICK: Out! Out, out, out! I told you, get your own whores!
RICHARD: Why? There’s plenty to go around!
NICK: Shoo!
RICHARD: Whatcha doing, anyway?
NICK: I’m auditioning girls for my visit to Ukraine video.
RICHARD: Tell you what, Nick: how about you just go to Ukraine and find chicks there and leave these chicks to me?
NICK: I’m not going to a war zone! I could be killed! Or worse: disfigured!
(Nick sits back down.)
RICHARD: This some sort of charity thing?
NICK: No. My manager’s bitchy assistant Suzy was riding my ass about how I need to get more publicity. Then she wouldn’t shut up about Bono’s trip to Ukraine and how it was on the news all around the world the other week.
RICHARD: Exactly. You need to go there, I’ll play with the girls.
(Richard grabs at the blonde. She shoves him.)
BLONDE: Eww, don’t touch me!
(She kicks Richard in the balls and leaves.)
RICHARD: Ow! Fuck!!!
NICK: Ah, see, she’s feisty. Sally, put her down as one of the bikini team lady soldiers!
BRUNETTE: There’s no bikini team lady soldiers in Ukraine!
NICK: Well, there should be! And why are you still here?
BRUNETTE: You don’t know anything about Ukraine and you’re making a video pretending to be there?
NICK: Yes, exactly.
BRUNETTE: Why?!
NICK: Everybody’s doing it.
BRUNETTE: So?
NICK: What, you expect me to just let bloody Bono get all the glory?
BRUNETTE: Well, at least he actually went!
NICK: Says who? He did a music video in a pink subway station with some fat guys in camo and walked around outside with some ruined buildings in the background. For all we know, he just went to the subway station closest to his Manhattan apartment, then wandered over to East Harlem for the rest. So why can’t I do the same thing?
BRUNETTE: You’re so going to Hell when you die, you know that, right?
NICK: Yes, yes, yes, Mrs. White tells me that all the time. Now, move along, I still have 6 more camo bikinis to fill by suppertime.
BRUNETTE: You should be ashamed of yourself!
NICK: Me? I’m not the one who announced he’d written a memoir on the heels of his stupid subway PR stunt!
RICHARD: How could you announce a memoir? You can’t write! Hell, you can’t even read!
NICK: I can too read and write! I just choose not to. Besides, it’s more efficient to get Sally to read and write things for me.
NICK (to Sally): Darling, how’s my autobiography coming? Will it be ready to announce the day after this video comes out?
SALLY: Oh, um… I… well, you’ll have to tell me what to write, Mr. White.
NICK: Oh, y’know, the usual rock god bio nonsense. 4-500 pages of whatever makes me look good. There’s plenty on Wikipedia to get you started. Have it done by Monday.
SALLY: I’ll see what I can do, Mr. White.
NICK: Splendid! I’ll beat that mick bastard on the New York Times bestseller list, mark my words, I swear to God! Next!
(Another blonde walks up in front of Nick. She bends over so Nick can look up her skirt.)
NICK: Very nice! Give Sally your card, dear, we’ll be in touch for round 2.
(The brunette thwacks Nick with her purse.)
NICK: Ow!! Tell you what, dear: If you won’t just leave, how about I put you in charge of the fight choreography when the bikini team lady soldiers mud-wrestle each other over who gets to service me first? Would you like that, dear?
(The brunette growls and keeps hitting Nick with her purse as the closing credits fade in.)