“You’re a horrible example of the worst kind of corporate radio that plays the same list of central headquarters-approved ‘hits’ as every other corporate radio station in the city, not to mention on the planet?”
“Ah. Yes. Well, you seem to be a little…unclear on the concept.”
“By which Dick means you seem to be a complete and utter moron.”
“Well, yes, but in a warm and fuzzy, listener-appreciating way.”
“Is there a warm and fuzzy, listener-appreciating way to call a listener a complete and utter moron, Dick?”
“Live radio is an ever more perfectly browning piece of rye bread, Dick. It isn’t a rock in a toaster oven.”
“I’m partial to whole peat moss bagels, myself, Dick, but that is, perhaps, straying from the point of this segment. LISTEN UP, PEOPLE! 95 point two two, C-D-I-K FM – that’s Big DICK Radio to you! – is up for its licence renewal at the CRTC. Now, ordinarily, a CRTC licence renewal hearing is like Kabuki theatre, except without the gleeful spontaneity, but -“
“Or the kimonos.”
“Speak for yourself, Dick.”
“Oh! Sorry, I…right. It’s a good thing we don’t judge here. Well, not each other, at any rate.”
“Right. Ignore him. He grew up in an unstable home. For some reason, the home he grew up in was built on a foundation of skateboards.”
“I’m the Tony Hawk of dysfunctional childhoods!”
“And, I have to spend five and a half hours a day locked in a small booth with him. But, enough about my life’s sorry, ever since big DICK radio was bought up by Whorus Entertainment, a small but vocal group has whinged about -“
“Most of them didn’t even identify themselves. I guess they were chicken whinges.”
“Yes. Ha ha. Very funny. Now, as I was saying -“
“They hope to get what they want on the whinges of desire.”
“Un hunh. Right. To get back to what’s important -“<.p>
“If they get their way, you could say they flew on the whinges of victory.”
“…You got any more of those?”
“Only 37.”
“Surfing the Internet again?”
“There’s this great site called Puns for Huns that – HEY! WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR? THAT LAPTOP COST ONE OF OUR SPONSORS A LOT OF MONEY!”
“I’m sure they regret spending that 30 bucks. Okay, so, ordinarily a CRTC licence renewal is more of a sure thing than John Baird foaming at the mouth during Question Period -“
“I could have called up a picture of that…if I still had the Internet…”
“But, because of the complaints, we’re not 100 per cent sure. So, we’re asking loyal listeners to phone us and tell us what you love about C-D-I-K, Big DICK radio.”
“What do they get for their participation, Dick?”
“The undying gratitude of Whorus management?”
“I’ll bet they would prefer a donut.”
“Yeah, well, I’d prefer to be broadcasting with a sack of hammers. Life is full of disappointments, isn’t it?”
“Not for the sack of hammers.”
“…Sooooo, keeping in mind that we’re asking for sycophancy, not serious discussion, let’s go to our next caller. Myrtle? You’re on the air.”
“Thanks, Jock.”
“Dick.”
“Right. Now, Rick, it seems to me that you play the same three songs over and over and over and over and over and over and over again all day. The girls at the nursing home agree that Nickelback is a great Canadian band and all, but there are only so many times you can hear ‘How You Remind Me’ before you want to bash your brains out with a comatose pigeon.”
“Well, bless you for being so open and honest with us.”
“You’re welcome, Rock.”
“And, if you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”
“I’ll be 83 next Michaelmas Day. That’s almost 90 in non-Christian years.”
“That’s wonderful. That’s just great. Listen, my uncle Dickie -“
“The one who has a farm where he breeds comatose birds of all kinds, Dick?”
“The same, Dick. Including pigeons. So, dear, sweet, little old lady, if you’ll stay on the line after I hang up on you, I’ll be able to help you out with your last request.”
“Oh, but I didn’t mean -“
“Okay, I’m Dante ‘Dick’ Roverside…”
“And, I’m Evan ‘Dick’ Lamanchuk…”
“And, you’re listening to 95 point two two, C-D-I-K FM – Big DICK Radio. We’re going to take a commercial break and, when we come back, we’ll have…uhh…Nickelback…”