Scott Stapp sits down on the plush chair in the corner of the living room — the one with the flowers — and takes a sip of his Monster energy drink. A few feet away, a microphone stand has just come to rest. Gobs of spittle drip from the microphone’s casing onto the carpet. Sitting behind an old mixing board is Stapp’s scraggly producer. A camera rests on a tripod behind Scraggly.
“That thing about the triple play? Frikkin’ brilliant!” Scraggly says.
“Hurrrrrrr,” Scott agrees. “Hurrr hurrr hurrrrrrr.”
“Yeah, that quick-fire thing about the strikeouts and base hits was pretty cool too. But don’t you think the whole ‘Marlins will soar’ thing is a little too…metaphorical?”
“Hurrrrrr,” Scott wonders. He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Hurrr, hurrrr.”
“I mean, soaring? They won’t actually soar. They’re fish, Scott. Fish. What’s up with that? You sounded great, by the way. That thing you do with your voice? You know, like when you put human vocals through a cheese grater made of sadness? Love it.”
Scott glances at Scraggly. “Hur.” He points at himself, and lowers his eyes. “Hurr hur. Hurrr hurrr, hurrrrr, hurrrrr. Hurrrrrrrrrrr.” A tear begins to form. “Hurrrr.”
[Now that’s high drama! Enjoy this cancer of a video. Check out last week’s (serious) PVS here.]
That video was hilariously awkward.
The author’s thing before it was just awkward.