American Freak Show

by Willie Geist

  TITO

  Get all that Peter Pan bullshit out my sight. Michael was the most talented, the most successful, and, of course, my favorite because of it, but goddamn he was one messed-up boy. Got pictures of a flying little boy in green tights all over his house. Think that might have set off some alarms when you’re dropping your kid off at the ranch for the weekend, Mom? Goddamn. And sell those statues outside of children holding hands, singing songs, and doing jump rope and shit. Where do you even buy some shit like that? Makes me want to puke. Find some pervert who wants that shit. Oh, and Tito, it should have been you in that casket.

  MARLON

  Do something with that motherfuckin’ zoo out there. Jesus Christ. Got llamas and alpacas wandering around the backyard, shitting all over the place. Who the fuck has a zoo in their yard? Sell those smelly-ass animals to a farm or a zoo or a fur coat company. Keep that ostrich though. I like that crazy motherfucker. And if you see Bubbles the Chimp back there, get that tuxedo he wore to the Grammys. That shit was expensive. Marlon, this is a chance to redeem yourself and bring back some of the money your lack of talent cost the band back in the day. We never would have broken up if you’d been better. Redeem your ass.

  JACKIE

  Which one are you again? Put on a clown costume and stand by the goddamn highway and wave people into the sale. Get some big-ass shoes and a funny wig and some colorful-as-hell balloons. Make some signs, too, and put them up around town. Make them say something like, HEY, COME TO NEVERLAND RANCH AND BUY SOME OF MICHAEL JACKSON’S FAMOUS SHIT! WE PROMISE NOBODY WILL TOUCH YOU! Come on, that shit is funny. Laugh. You’re the marketing department, Jackie. If no one shows up to this yard sale, it’s your fault. Try to make this your first personal success since you got me a beer out of the refrigerator in 1972.

  LA TOYA

  Set up a lemonade stand, baby. Make some cookies and some of those Rice Krispies Treats—and don’t leave ’em in the oven for so goddamn long this time. They’re supposed to be chewy, not like goddamn marshmallow-filled bricks. Sell some of that Jesus Juice from Michael’s 3-acre underground wine cavern, too. That’s the original shit. It’s famous. People don’t care that it was used to get 12-year-old boys drunk. They’d buy O.J.’s bloody gloves if they could. People are fucked up. Jack up the price on that shit, La Toya. And, by the way, you could have been Janet if you hadn’t been so dumb, lazy, and overweight.

  JANET

  Put on a tight little outfit and dance in a cage while you sing your greatest hits. I don’t want to hear any backtalk on that. And don’t sleepwalk through the performance like you did at the opening of my Bentleys-only car wash in Encino. I’m recording this one and releasing it as Janet Jackson: One Night Only. Live from the Yard Sale at Her Dead Brother’s Weird-Ass Kiddie Ranch. Also, go make me a sandwich. I know you don’t think you’re too big to make your daddy a sandwich. Remember, Janet: I brought you into this world and I’ll take you out of this motherfucker right quick. Now go work on your choreography for the yard sale.

  REBBIE

  You’re my firstborn and I love you like hell. Shit, you’re almost as old as I am. Literally. But nobody knows who you are. You just aren’t weird enough. I’d have you run the books for this yard sale, but I obviously plan on ripping all you dumb motherfuckers off, so I can’t have you stickin’ your nose in the numbers. Shit, I don’t know: just sit in a dunk tank and let motherfuckers knock your ass in the water for money. Shit will be funny as hell. Laugh. Either that or stay home. No one’s gonna notice.

  KATHERINE

  You just sit there and don’t say shit.

  On the day of the sale, Joe Jackson’s operation ran exactly as planned in that first meeting. He barked fatherly motivation as the Jackson boys peddled their brother’s eccentric wares (“I will punch you in the mouth with a roll of quarters in my hand if you don’t sell those goddamn bumper cars!” he’d say). La Toya sold lemonade, chewy Rice Krispies Treats, and copies of her 1985 fitness video La Toning with La Toya from a card table. Janet entertained shoppers, dancing in a cage that dangled from a crane and singing a medley from Rhythm Nation 1814 for an upcoming live album whose profits would belong exclusively to Joe. Jackie, dressed in the oversize clown suit, sobbed loudly by the side of the road as he futilely waved cars into the sale. Katherine sat there and didn’t say shit, as instructed.

  The Neverland Yard Sale attracted an array of memorabilia collectors, exotic animal dealers, and Saudi oil sheiks. Curiosity seekers were discouraged, however, by the event’s $1,000 cash cover charge and the large, handwritten sign that read, IF YOU’RE NOT BUYING SHIT, GET THE FUCK OUT!’THE MANAGEMENT.

  Despite the exorbitant price tags, nearly all the items from Michael Jackson’s former home were snapped up in short order. The only items that remained at the end of the day were Jackson’s stash of Kids Incorporated videotapes and his scrapbook collection of pressed umbilical cords.

  Joe Jackson’s public claims of “disappointing sales” were contradicted wildly by the sales ledger itself, a fact that dealt a blow to his defense against the embezzlement charges. Also, eyewitnesses observed Mr. Jackson loading garbage bags full of cash into a van and later crashing the rented vehicle through Neverland’s front gate while laughing maniacally and yelling, “I stole all the money!” That certainly will not help his case either.

  The following highlights from the Neverland Ranch sales ledger suggest extraordinary profits, to which the Jackson siblings have staked their legal claim.

  Item: Herd of African Plains Zebras

  Sale Price: $250,000

  Item: Shrunken Head of Hermann Göring

  Sale Price: $450,000

  Item: Shroud of Turin (original)

  Sale Price: $56,000,000,000

  Item: Large portrait of Emmanuel Lewis (oil on canvas)

  Sale Price: $2,500

  Item: Emmanuel Lewis

  Sale Price: N/A (adoption)

  Item: Michael Jackson’s Original Nose (Condition: Fair)

  Sale Price: $1,500,000

  Item: 1994 “America’s Hottest Webelos” Calendar

  Sale Price: $31

  Item: Stuffed Remains of Liberace (posed at piano with candelabra)

  Sale Price: $173,000

  Item: Macaulay Culkin’s Dukes of Hazzard Underoos (worn)

  Sale Price: $150

  Item: Four (4) Working Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles

  Sale Price: $20,000,000

  Item: The Titanic (ship salvaged and rebuilt completely to original specs)

  Sale Price: $800,000,000

  Item: Charlie Chaplin’s Testicles (pickled)

  Sale Price: $21,000

  Chapter 16

  Operation Pick ’n Pair: The Way Forward in Afghanistan

  ***CLASSIFIED***

  THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE

  Mr. President,

  At your request, we have prepared a list of alternative strategies for the way forward in Afghanistan. As you noted astutely in your letter to this department, our current war plan “blows.” We are as determined as you are, sir, to win the fight in Afghanistan and to bring our troops home as soon, and as honorably, as possible.

  While I took your specific policy critique to heart, I would respectfully challenge your assertion, Mr. President, that the Defense Department has been “run like a Chuck E. Cheese” in recent years. We take our responsibility to defend this great country very seriously. We’ve just had a tough run here lately. We would ask you, sir, not to let a couple of dud wars overshadow all the hits we’ve had—the same way you give a pass to De Niro for Meet the Fockers and Analyze That. Those atrocities cannot tarnish the legacy of Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. Same thing here with Iraq and Afghanistan. We still defeated Hitler and the Japs. No one can take that away from us.

  With that said, the United States Department of Defense humbly submits the following new war strategy proposals for your consideration. To be honest with you, Mr. Presid
ent, we’ve already had thousands of ideas that haven’t worked, so we’re a little tapped out. This time we went outside the box, allowing our summer interns to pitch ideas in exchange for college credit. In short, we threw a bunch of shit against the wall. Let’s see what sticks. It couldn’t be any worse than what we’re doing now, right?

  Thank you as always for your input, sir.

  Respectfully,

  Robert M. Gates

  United States Secretary of Defense

  AFGHANISTAN: THE WAY FORWARD

  PREPARED BY THE UNITED STATES

  DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE

  Operation Pick ’n Pair

  As DOD and POTUS have discussed on numerous occasions, a complete withdrawal from Afghanistan will be appropriate and justified as soon as the country resembles a civilized, governable, and even marginally developed Western country. Reasonable progress—real or perceived—will allow for a declaration of victory by the United States of America and its allies (but mostly by us).

  With that in mind, DOD proposes the immediate groundbreaking for no fewer than one hundred (100) Applebee’s Neighborhood Grill and Bar locations across Afghanistan. What says “unspoiled Americana” better than an Applebee’s, for heaven’s sake? We believe, sir, that images of everyday Afghanis enjoying two-for-one happy hour margaritas and the CNN pictures of parents taking their smiling children for a sensibly priced dinner of boneless Buffalo wings and wonton tacos will convince people back home that you have managed to turn the tide in the war. Our computer models show that the reaction of an average American citizen will be, “Hey, that looks like our Applebee’s! They made Afghanistan all nice! Shit, I’m hungry.” That citizen will then return to watching professional wrestling before ordering a pizza from Papa John’s, leaving no need for empirical evidence of actual progress. The sale is made.

  A sense of relief and national pride will wash over the American public when it appears victory is at hand in Afghanistan. Who could argue in good conscience that the United States has not won when you have insurgents laying down their arms and sharing a “Pick ’n Pair,” where they can choose any combination of two of Applebee’s Simmering Soups, Sensational Salads, sandwiches, or pasta—all for one low price? These Afghani insurgents will, of course, be played by actors currently living in Los Angeles. We already have a stack of headshots. This, sir, is your Hollywood ending to a long and costly war.

  DOD would suggest that Vice President Biden appear for a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the flagship Applebee’s restaurant in Kabul to drive home the impression that the rock-solid foundations for democracy and Western convenience have been laid in Afghanistan. They will not have been, of course, but that’s hardly the point.

  To bolster the case that sufficient progress has been made, we will build the façade of a strip mall around each of the Applebee’s restaurants—kind of like you see in those old Westerns. Entire communities springing up overnight and made entirely out of plywood you can buy at Home Depot. We have approached the Hollywood production designer who did all the Lord of the Rings movies for an estimate. He’s really quite good.

  In summary, the epic failures of both the British and the Soviets in Afghanistan over the course of history have earned the country a reputation as “the Graveyard of Empires.” With the construction of just a handful of Applebee’s franchises, you, sir, could be the president to transform Afghanistan into “the Home of the Spicy Shrimp Diavolo!” The course of history would be changed forever. An Ann Taylor Loft store and an NBA franchise would not be far behind.

  Operation “D-day: The Sequel!”

  This one may strike you as counterintuitive, but hear us out: start another war. That’s right, do something so preposterous that the American people forget about Afghanistan altogether. Trust me, they’re just begging for a reason to forget about that shithole anyway. Please forgive the language, Mr. President, but it really is just about the worst place on the face of the Earth. It’s like rural Nevada with 30-year-old land mines all over the place. Have you been? Just awful.

  The Department of Defense has a proposal that will not only make the country forget about Afghanistan, but remember a simpler, happier time in our nation’s history. We have a plan in place whereby the United States military would re-create the D-day landings on the beaches of Normandy, France. A full-scale reproduction of Operation Overlord as conducted on June 6, 1944, would divert the world’s attention and strike a nostalgic chord at home. People love a sequel, Mr. President.

  Picture heroic young men and women throwing open the doors of Higgins boats and storming the beaches as actors dressed as Nazis fire cap guns at them. Imagine American tanks rolling slowly through the streets of Bayeux as children throw chocolates and women in cotton dresses wave from doorways. Think of servicemen from varied backgrounds (a streetwise New Yorker and a simple country boy from Georgia, for example) shacking up together in quaint French farmhouses to hide out from the enemy—Saving Private Ryan comes to life. BTW, can you believe that queer Shakespeare movie beat Saving Private Ryan for Best Picture that year?! What a crock of horseshit.

  Here’s the great news: most of the kids in the United States are so dumb, they think D-day actually was created by Steven Spielberg for a movie. And, with all due respect, a large portion of the Greatest Generation that lived through the real thing may not remember the day themselves at this point. As far as 90 percent of America is concerned, you, Mr. President, will have presided over one of the most important days in American history. The sins of Afghanistan will be forgotten and the spirits of a war-weary nation lifted when those servicemen and -women come home from Paris and parade through the Canyon of Heroes in New York City. Oh, and not that you’re in this for personal reasons, but how did D-day work out for Eisenhower? National hero. Two-term president. Highway system named after him. Catch my drift?

  You’ll obviously have to make some kind of a diplomatic arrangement with the leadership in France before we launch “Operation D-day: The Sequel!”—maybe promise Sarkozy box seats to a Wizards game or something—but honestly that’s not my problem.

  Not to brag, but we thought this one was pretty goddamn good. We came up with it while we were playing Call of Duty 2 on the giant monitor in the Situation Room. Badass, right?

  Operation Jersey Shore

  Mr. President, I mentioned earlier in this memo that, out of complete and utter desperation, we solicited ideas from our summer interns. We had a “What the Hell Should We Do in Afghanistan?” essay contest, with the winner getting a CIA tote bag, water bottle, and fanny pack. We thought, “Hey, we’re all getting a little gray in the beard around here, why not tap into the ideas and energy of America’s youth? Couldn’t hurt, right?” Wrong.

  Sir, I will not waste your time or insult the office of the president of the United States by sharing most of what these dipshits came up with, but I just had to share part of one proposal. The following is from a person educated in the American university system. We had to accept his application because his father secretly financed a covert operation we ran last year to try to overthrow the British monarchy (tell you about that one next time we catch up). Without further ado, Operation Jersey Shore, brought to you by the future of America. God help us.

  You guyz should todes send the cast of Jersey Shore into Afghanistan. LMAO! First of all Situation, Ronnie, and Pauly D are super-jacked and eff’d so many people up in bar fights. Can you imagine what they’d do if you gave them guns?!

  If you do this one, you should rip the sleeves off those camo jackets dudes wear over there to show juiced arms and Pauly’s tats that are off the chain (Urban Outfitters has bangin’ tank tops and sleeveless tees). You think bin Laden or whatever wants to see those boyz rollin’ up on the set? Hellllllll no!!!!

  Snooki and JWoWW are tough as shiznit, too, for chicks. I wouldn’t want to fight those bitches if I was a dumb terrorist. Plus, they could like liberate the women in Afghanistan and show them how to lose the burkas or whatever and look HOT! Sho
w some f’in cans and leg, for Allah’s sake! Those Middle East chicks are kinda heinous (hahahaha)! Little tanning and hair spray could start a feminist revolution. For reals!

  All kidding aside, the Jersey Shore crew is tough as hell and wouldn’t take any shit from a bunch of people who smell like ass. We wear down the enemy Jersey-style and it’s GAME OVER! You saw what happened to the last guy who stepped to them at a nightclub in Seaside and tried to steal their Jäger shots. Night, night—you’re sleepin’! One shot, kid! No more pussyin’ around like little bitches, Mr. Secretary. Send in the Situation!!!

  Hey, are we getting reimbursed for meals and commute this summer? That shit adds up, man.

  Peace,

  Patrick “P-Diddy” Peterson

  DOD Intern

  Pompton Lakes, NJ

  University of West Virginia, Class of ?? (we’ll see!)

  Mr. President, after a careful review, you’ll be relieved to know that we have decided against sending the cast of MTV’s Jersey Shore into Afghanistan. Say the word and we will a) invade France, or b) start hiring servers for the Kabul Applebee’s. By the way, have you tried their Asiago Peppercorn Steak? Try it and thank me later. That’s a direct order from the Secretary of Defense.

  Chapter 17

  Levi Johnston: The College Essay