"That was the first 12 seconds of the classic Buffalo Springfield tune 'For What It's Worth.'"
"For what it's worth, the new policy of cutting songs into bite-sized pieces so that we can talk in the middle of them isn't as wonderful as it may sound on paper, and it didn't sound all that impressive when I first heard the memo."
"Not, like...an armadillo catching fire impressive."
"Or: your family dog explaining the flaws in his theory of black holes to Stephen Hawking impressive."
"Or: a black actor being nominated for an Oscar impressive."
"Whoa! That would be impressive, Dick. And, topical. Nicely done."
"Thanks, but it's not as topical as that cream I got from the pharmacy last night for -"
"Aaaaand, the moment is gone. Okay, you're listening to -"
"Man with a gun over there/Telling me I got to beware./It's time we stop -""Right. You're listening to 95 point two two, C-DIK, Big Dick Radio. I'm Jean-Claude 'von Dick' De-La-Skibol. And, back with me - and, I never thought I would be happy to say this, although the words are starting to lack sincerity even as they leave my lips - is Reginald 'Dick' Kefauver."
"Thank you for that lukewarm welcome back, Dick. It means almost nothing to me."
"I hope you'll take it the wrong way when I say that it's more than you deserve, Dick. And, getting more more by the second. I know I'm going to regret asking this, but how was Kabul?"
"Worst thirteen minutes of my life!"
"You were there for three months."
"The rest is kind of a...blur..."
"And, I was right. You know -"
"Children what's that sound?/Everybody look - what's goin' down.""Probably that pulled pork poutine chili dog I had for breakfast. But, it's not going down without a fight, Dick. It's not going down without a - gulp - fight!"
"I thought you had a cast iron stomach."
"Are you kidding? My stomach contains so much iron, you could use it shield you from atomic radiation! My oesophagus, on the other hand..."
"Well, you know what they say: it's better for food to travel hopefully than to arrive."
"I've never heard anybody say that."
"I read it in a James Bond novel."
"As long as your source is authoritative. And, speaking of changing the subject, Dick, you know who I feel the most sorry for in this hostile broadcasting environment where stations are changing their formats more often than a germaphobe changes his underwear during flu season in order to boost their ratings?"
"Umm...Dick, I'm gonna say...no?"
"Good call, Dick. I pity the poor jazz station that's gonna have to start playing 'Stairway to Heaven.'"
"Better them than us having to play...John Coldrayne."
"Do you mean John Oldbrain?"
"John...John Moldtrayin."
"I don't think that's right."
"Well, whoever he is, he was important to a point I was making a minute ago, but I've completely forgotten it, so why don't we move on?"
"There's battle lines being drawn./Nobody's right if everybody's wrong.""Hey, Mister Producer Dick! You think you could give us some warning before you spring another couple of seconds of song on us?"
"Where would the spontaneity of live radio be in that, Dick?"
"I get that every time I open my pay package, Mister Producer Dick."
"You, too, Dick? I thought that was just me."
"It is just you, Dick. It's always just you."
"Oh. My mistake."
"So, about that warning, could we get -"
"Young people speaking' their minds./Getting so much resistance from behind."
"Uhh, Dick?"
"Yes, Mister Producer Dick."
"Another snippet of music coming at you."
"Thanks for the heads up.""Okay, I'm going to stop you right there, Dick. We're already well over our daily quota for complaints about sexual innuendoes, and the show only started ten minutes ago! You're listening to the morning show on 95 point two two, C-DIK, Big Dick Radio. With any luck, we should be able to get to a second song on before the end of our time slot..."
"I can't wait!"