In the fall of 2011, Dartmouth College hosted the prospective Republican Party
candidates and attendees for a nationally televised debate. The Jack-O-Lantern had the privilege of interviewing three of the candidates. The following transcript of the footage, as yet untelevised because of contractual obligation from Bloomberg Television, shows the results.
Interviewer #1: First of all, like me thank everyone in attendance on behalf of our publication. It’s an honor to be in the presence of so many political luminaries.
The candidates nod.
Interviewer #1: The first question we have is addressed to Speaker of the House John Boner.
Cut to John Boehner, confused. Text on screen identifying him as John Boehner, Speaker of the House.
Interviewer #1: Now, Mr. Boner, some have indicated these debates perpetuate partisan politics. The Washington Post editorial page recently read “John Boner reiter—
Boehner: Sorry. If I could interrupt.
Interviewer #1: Of course.
Boehner: I believe you’re mispronouncing my name slightly.
Interviewer #1: I don’t understand.
Boehner: My name is pronounced Boehner.
The interviewers look at each other in embarrassment.
Interviewer #1: Oh my God. This is quite embarrassing. I’m incredibly sorry Mr—
Interviewer #1 (in disbelief): Really? That’s your name? Boehner? Well, it takes all kinds. (clearing his throat). Well, Mr. Boehner, I have to apologize, but because of time constraints we’ll need to move on to the next politician.
Boehner: Completely alright.
Interviewer #2: Okay. This next question goes to… Senator Michelle Ticklefarts, I think it is? Senator Ticklefarts—
Cut to Michelle Bachman next to the text Michele Ticklefarts, Presidential Candidate
Interviewer: Senator Ticklefarts, some have called you an outsider cand—
Bachman: I’m sorry, I’ll have to interrupt also.
Interviewer #2: Pardon me? I don’t understand why.
Boehner (to the interviewer): Come on, man…
Interviewer #2: I don’t…
Boehner: That wasn’t even close to her name!
Interviewer #1 checks legal pad. Points to it for interviewer #2 to see.
Interviewer #2 (incredulously to Interviewer #1): Really? Okay… (to Bachman) Again, my most sincere apologies.
Bachman: Fine, fine. Let’s just try to move on.
Interviewer #2: Agreed. Caveman Ticklefarts, where do you stand on a woman’s right to—
Show Michelle crossed out, and Caveman Ticklefarts next to it.
Boehner (shaking his head): Outrageous. Really outrageous.
Bachman: This is unbelievable. I’m leaving. (gets up to go, takes off microphone).
Interviewer #2: Wait. Sit down, all of you. Please.
Looks to interviewer #1
Interviewer #2: We need to tell them.
Interviewer #1 nods. Sentimental music starts playing
Interviewer #1: Look, we know we’ve been…well we’ve been making a big mess of this interview. Mucking up your names. Offending you for reasons we can’t understand. The truth is… we… we don’t know how to read. We can’t help it. So when I call you John Boner, know I just mean you, respected Speaker of the House.
Interviewer #2: And when I call you Senator Caveman Ticklefarts, just know what I really mean is, the honorable Representative from Minnesota.
Interviewer #1: And look, we get it. It’s hard to get over. If you want to leave, go on and leave…
Interviewer #2: But I guess what we’re trying to say is, we wish you’d stay.
The politicians look at each other before reluctantly nodding.
Bachman: Okay, we’ll stay, just for one last question.
Interviewer #1 squints at the legal pad for awhile.
Interviewer #1: Well, I have no fucking clue out to pronounce this next name, so I’m just going to call you Butterscotch McTinyDick!
Boehner: Oh for Christ’s sake!
Interviewer #1 (looking mortified): What? What did I do now?
Bachman (taking off her microphone): You people should be ashamed of yourselves.
As they leave, pan to a charmingly dressed dandy with an oiled mustache twice the size of a regular man’s.
McTinyDick: That’s Baronet Butterscotch McTinyDick, to you m’boy, but no use worrying about it now. (He chuckles annoyingly to himself, looking down. He’s suddenly startled.)Sink me, gentlemen! My cravat seems to have fallen into a dish of my favorite toothsome concoction: Butterscotch! Tasty as the dickens and twice as deadly! Terrible scrumptious stuff! I hope it isn’t such a terrible strain on the eyes.
Interviewer #1: No not at all I—What are you doing now?
Baronet McTinyDick has pulled out the waistband of the enormous stretchy, golden pants he’s wearing and peered into them.
Baronet McTinyDick: Hellfire and consternation, my penis really is quite tiny! Damnably small, really. Look at it, sticking out like a pin from a cushion!
His hat flies up into the air, gets suspended there for a moment, and does a little dance while his cravat spins around in circles.
Baronet McTinyDick: But no time for all that! Now’s the time for jubilee and delight!
He produces a small butterscotch-colored gramophone decorated with very small penises and begins playing a version of “Putting on the Ritz” by Irving Berlin. Then he gets up and tap dances around the room, revolving luxuriously through the chambers.
Baronet McTinyDick: Ha-ha! Look at me, I’m laughing! Hoo-hoo! Hee-hee! Come dance along with me!
Interviewer #1: Uh…
Interviewer #2 mouths “What… the… fuck?”
Baronet McTinyDick: Come dance with me I say!
He does a tap-dancing flourish and then a backflip. Meanwhile Interviewers #1 and #2 sneak slowly out of the backdoor.
Baronet McTinyDick: What fun we’re having!