Mr. Cope, do you have anything to add about Lauren Bacall?
Anything to add
Yes. Something personal, as you did with James Garner and Robin Williams.
Uh, all I can say is that I’ve always enjoyed watching her, and I’m sorry she died.
That’s not very personal. I was hoping for something about how she touched your life. Maybe how things will never be the same without her.
I’m sorry. I just didn’t have that kind of relationship with Lauren Bacall. She seemed to be a very nice lady, and… and a pretty good actress, I thought… and, uh… sorry, but that’s all I got.
Just great. Disappointing, Mr. Cope. Dis! Uh! Pointing! Sometimes I wonder why I bother to come over here and interview you. You never give me anything to work with. Now what am I supposed to do?… go back and report that “Mr. Cope thinks Lauren Bacall was a nice lady and could act pretty good?” I ask you… does that seem interesting to
you? Huh? Does it?
Gosh, I said I was sorry. What do you want me to do? Make up something?
why not? You do it all the time when it serves your purposes. You make up some cock and bull about leaving this blog to be Jim Risch’s press secretary. You make up characters for your column all the time. You make up hypothetical scenarios, you’re always making up dumb series, and you make up words anytime you feel like it. But you can’t make up one darn reportable reaction to Lauren Bacall’s passing that I can take back and turn into a story? Thank you Mr. Cope. Thank you very darn much!
You know, you’re not the only one trying to make a few bucks writing stuff. And I got expenses, you know. Who do you think pays for the darn gas to get me over here for these dumb interviews, anyway? Me! That’s who! I’m not on some fancy-schmancy expense account. It comes out of my pocket! But what would you know about that? You never leave the house. You just sit here making stuff up. Except when I’m here, that is, trying to get you to say something interesting about Donald Sterling or soccer or Lauren Bacall. Oh noooooo… you can’t make up anything about
that stuff, can you!? Not you!
Okay okay okaaaay. Gad! I’ll make something up about Lauren Bacall, for god’s sakes! Will that make you happy?
Well… we’ll see. What you got?
Okay, I slept with Lauren Bacall once. There. Is that what you’re looking for?
Wow! You slept with Lauren Bacall?
Yes, definitely. I definitely slept with Lauren Bacall. What’s more, we did it in the White House when Kennedy was president. It was, like, a party. An inauguration party, I think. Or something.
Wow! You slept with Lauren Bacall in the White House?
Yes. No! It was a Bay of Pigs party, that’s what it was. Now I remember better. Heck, I was only 14 or so at the time, and it was definitely a Bay of Pigs party Kennedy threw for… for, uh… for Marilyn Monroe! Yeah, that’s it. Definitely Marilyn Monroe. And Lauren Bacall was there because she was famous, and I was there because that’s the year I both won the National Spelling Bee and invented Super Glue, and she and I did it. In the White House. On a big rug made out of… of, uh… tiger skins! Yeah, that’s it.
Wow! You slept with Lauren Bacall on a tiger skin rug in the White House?
Does anyone else know about this?
Well, Lauren Bacall knew about it. But, of course, she’s not here to…
No, I mean have you told anyone else about this. Like another reporter, maybe?
Nope. You’re the only one I’ve ever told. I wouldn’t even tell my wife a story like that.
So this is a scoop?
Yes, it’s a scoop all right. Definitely, a scoop.
Thank you, Mr. Cope. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I won’t forget this.
But look, if you release this story, I’ll deny it ever happened. Or that I ever told you it happened.
That’s okay, that’s okay. I got what I need, so you do what you have to do.
All right then, so we’re both good?
You bet. Good as gold.