From the video description:
This week Nick is busy on location (in his studio) filming his visit to Ukraine with the help of his pal Pádraig, who’s all too happy to lend his artistic vision to ensuring the video is a real hit.
Nick and Sally’s commentary:
“My God, Sally, the savagery I have suffered through in order to further my art…”
“Yes, Mr. White, you were very brave.”
“Pádraig said he thinks we might win an Irish Oscar for my Ukraine video, but I think we have a real shot of winning a real Oscar instead.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Mr. White!”
“Be sure to update my Wikipedia the second those nominations are announced, love.”
“Yes, Mr. White.”
“And don’t forget the Nobel Peace Prize! I hear when you win one of those, they give you a whole crate of free dynamite.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes, it’s all the same company. I can’t wait to test it out on Richard’s BMW… also that old hag Mrs. Collins down the block from me who’s always bitching that my car stereo is too loud. Well, she can kiss that ugly RV of hers ker-ploom when I get my Nobel Peace dynamite!”
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 Pádraig are standing by a camera on a tripod watching two girls, one in a Ukraine flag bikini, the other in Russian colors, have a slap fight.)
NICK: I’m so glad you offered to direct the video, Pádraig. I had no idea you were a filmmaker.
PÁDRAIG: Ah, y’know, I have me ways.
NICK: And for such a reasonable cost, too: only 5 bottles of Irish whisky!
PÁDRAIG: It’s a labor of love, ya langer. Anything to help make sure the public have the correct ideas about you.
NICK: Indeed. This is going to be so much better than actually going to that God-forsaken Pacific hellhole.
PÁDRAIG: State da ya! Ukraine’s in Europe, ya dope.
NICK: Really? I thought it was that big island in Hawaii where they invented the ukelele. You know, the one with the volcano? They like their weird names with too many vowels and Ks over there.
(Pádraig stares at Nick a beat.)
PÁDRAIG: Shall I tell the stellas to dance the hula then?
NICK: Oh, yes, that’s a smashing idea! Bloody Bono didn’t have any bikini whores in his Ukraine visit, shaking their ta-tas in his beady-eyed face!
PÁDRAIG: I reckon he did like, just not when the cameras were rolling.
NICK: Oh, I’m sure you’re right, mate. Now, where are we going to film the mud-wrestling scene? I don’t want the studio getting all filthy since Jason’s already busy today cleaning the bodily fluids out of my Porsche.
PÁDRAIG: Ah, we’ll just go out to the courtyard and run a hose til things are mucky enough.
NICK: Can we do that over in Richard’s parking spot? Mrs. White gets very angry when I track mud into the house.
PÁDRAIG: Yeah, of course! While we’re talking, remind me why there’s an elephant statue in here.
NICK: Oh, because Mrs. White bought it for the garden yesterday, but she hasn’t decided where exactly to put it, so she had it delivered here instead.
PÁDRAIG: Can’t we get rid of it, mate?
NICK: Oh, no. That would make Mrs. White very angry. We must never move or touch any of her stuff, no matter what inconvenient place she puts it. Besides, I thought it might help with the exotic atmosphere of the place.
PÁDRAIG: There’s no elephants in Ukraine.
NICK: Really? Huh. Learn something new every day. Well, I say leave it there for interest anyway.
PÁDRAIG: If you insist.
NICK: Well, more like Mrs. White does. Listen, I need to go powder my nose before we film my parts. I’ll be back shortly.
PÁDRAIG: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
(Nick leaves. Pádraig backons one of the blondes over.)
PÁDRAIG: C’mere to me, girlie!
(The girl in the Ukrainian colors bikini comes.)
PÁDRAIG: Listen: When that bloody wanker comes back and says his line about there being enough of him to go around, I want you to roar like an enraged Celtic tigress. Then charge at him like, yelling ‘fuck you Brit boy’, and kick him in the balls like.
GIRLIE: Um, OK?
PÁDRAIG: Remember, this is war; you’re defending your homeland from the vile imperialist invaders.
GIRLIE: That’s not in the script, though.
PÁDRAIG: Yeah, there were last minute rewrites. Gotta make things more realistic for wartime, ya know.
GIRLIE: Oh, OK.
(Nick returns.)
PÁDRAIG: All right, stop acting the maggot like and back to it. Action!
(The girls resume the slap fight. Nick approaches them.)
NICK: Now, ladies, there’s no need for you to fight. There’s more than enough of me to satisfy you both!
(Girlie roars and charges at him as Pádraig asked.)
GIRLIE: Fuck you, Brit boy!
(She kicks Nick in the balls, he drops to the ground.)
NICK: Ow! Fuck!
PÁDRAIG: Cut! Nice one, girlie!
NICK: What the fuck did you do that for? That wasn’t in the script!
GIRLIE: It was a last minute rewrite.
NICK: No, it wasn’t!
GIRLIE: Uh… the director said so.
PÁDRAIG: Ah, sure look, mate, yer oul manager said I’d better get some good war footage or else.
NICK: Goddamn it, Suzy, you bitch!
PÁDRAIG: I think we need to do it again, mate.
Nick: What!?
PÁDRAIG: For safety, ya know.
NICK: Over my dead body! That hurt! We’re not doing it again!
PÁDRAIG: Fine, fine. Let Bono have the more realistic fighting footage. See if I care, ya gowl!
NICK: Gah! Fine… but can’t I wear protection at least?
PÁDRAIG: If you knew how to wear protection, you wouldn’t be filling an antibiotics prescription every three weeks.
NICK: I just don’t see why it’s realistic to have her kick me in my golden nuggets.
PÁDRAIG: Well, I suppose it would be more realistic to have her shoot you in the face, but the noise would make the neighbors call the cops like.
NICK: Oh, no, God no, not the face! Not the face! I just had it lifted!
PÁDRAIG: Balls it is, then! Places!
NICK: Bloody Hell… Grr…
(We then see multiple shots of Nick getting kicked in the balls in between Pádraig making excuses for why they need to do it again.)
PÁDRAIG: No, I wasn’t feeling that anti-imperialist rage, girlie… the Russian girl sneezed in the background and wrecked the shot… sorry, mate, a cloud came by the window and ruined the lighting… me phone rang during the shot… wait, the camera needs a fresh battery… naw, the lights flickered… Ah, I was laughing too hard, we’ll just have to do it over again…