Joe Buck And Jim Nantz Discuss
The Merits Of The Three-Person Booth
While Walking Through An Airport
JOE BUCK: Jim, what are you pointing at?
JIM NANTZ: Uh, I forgot.
JOE BUCK: So, that’s it. Another season in the books.
JIM NANTZ: It went by so quickly.
JOE BUCK: Good season, Jim.
JIM NANTZ: Good season, Joe.
JOE BUCK: I think we’ve earned a little R&R, don’t you agree?
JIM NANTZ: We did some gosh-darned good work this season.
JOE BUCK: So much bullcrap that we put up with, what with the travel, all the a-holes to deal with. It’s a great job, make no mistake, but people question my fortitude, call me the P-word and what not. It really…it stinks. It just stinks.
JIM NANTZ: Stinks like fresh bull mess.
JOE BUCK: But I’m done with that for a few months. Sometimes it takes me a few weeks to snap out of my broadcaster voice, you know what I mean? I have some baseball dates coming up, but those are way down the calendar.
JIM NANTZ: You’re lucky. I still have the CBS golf schedule, including the Masters. On such hallow ground, one’s language must be as pristine and as pure as his pigmentation.
JOE BUCK: Better keep that mouth of yours in game shape then.
JIM NANTZ: Indeed. But I will get a short break here. For three days, I’m not going to do…
JOE BUCK: …Jim?
Oh. It's finally happened. The Pussy Apocalypse is upon us. An army of whores have come to enslave us all.
JIM NANTZ: Oh, no.
JOE BUCK: Look at that one in the front. That little bitch is begging for it.
JIM NANTZ: Oh, heavens, no.
JOE BUCK: That little piece of Tokyo ‘tang might be on your flight, Jimbo. You might even be sitting next to her on the way back to New York. You could give her a little Seoul Finger. But, you know, like South Korea Seoul. Get it?
JIM NANTZ: [Squirming uncomfortably] I follow you, Joe.
JOE BUCK: Oh, sorry man. I didn’t mean to articulate that. That is a disgusting act. And I apologize that…that I won’t be flicking that bean myself. You know what I hear about Japanese women? That their gashes are flat. Like their economy.
JIM NANTZ: You’re not really helping.
JOE BUCK: What’s the big deal? Just say that you want to fuck her and I’ll shut up. I swear. Just say it, Jimbo. Me love you long time. But say it in a Bryant Gumbel voice.
JIM NANTZ: No.
JOE BUCK: Fine, say it in your own voice.
JIM NANTZ: I’m not going to say it.
JOE BUCK: She might have checked her bags at the terminal, but I’ll be checking her oil in the handicapped stall before boarding. And I will continue to hit that ass until the No Pounding sign has been illuminated. By the time I’m done fucking her, not only will her eyes be round, but she’ll have gained 15 pounds and have issues with her father.
JIM NANTZ: Please stop.
JOE BUCK: Come on, Jimbo, let’s get over there and gang-bang her. You can give her a Pacific Rimjob, and I’ll make her pie-hole part of the Wang Dynasty. Then you can take a break while I pummel that Pai-Gow pussy with my Kim Jong eel while I’ve got her ankles on my shoulders.
JIM NANTZ: [mumbling] It’s a position…
JOE BUCK: Say it, Jimbo. Come on, say it!
JIM NANTZ: It’s a position unlike any other.
JOE BUCK: Yes! Alright, Jimbo!
JIM NANTZ: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Flight 669 with nonstop service to Pleasuretown. We’d like to invite our Pacific club members to begin seating…on my face.
JOE BUCK: Let’s get over there. I’ve got an invitation to the House of Dong with her name on it.
[They stand up]
JIM NANTZ: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: nothing beats Saigon beaver.
JOE BUCK: True dat, Jimbo. True. Dat.