The camera zooms in slowly on a 1983 answering machine and we hear a phone ringing in the distance. Once … twice … three times … and the machine picks up. We hear a monotonous, robotic voice answer.
“Hello. You have reached the home of My … Blog … Can … Beat … Up … Your … Blog. No one is here to write for you right now, but if you leave your name and URL ….”
A crazed woman bursts through the door, screaming at the machine as though it had ears. “Wait! WAIT! I’m HERE!!! Don’t leave. DON’T CLICK TO ANOTHER BLOG!!!”
She stands from the spot where she stumbled into the room, bends over to collect the contents of her exploded purse and notices the red wine that she has accidentally sprayed across Lance’s white sofa. “Shit,” we hear her mutter under her breath. “Lance is never gonna trust me to take care of this place again.” Pausing to assess the damage she caused, she pushes the broken shards of her glass under the coffee table and places a large pillow over the wine stain. “There. … Well, I guess I’d better get started.”
She clears her throat. “Hello, everyone. ODNT here. That’s O as in Old, D as in Dog, N as in New and T as in (giggle) Tits. Don’t let the name fool you. I am none of those things. Except maybe old. But I digress.”
She walks around the room like she owns the place. “I’m here on behalf of the owner of this joint, someone you all know as Lance. I have no idea if he uses his last name in this forum so I’m sure as hell not gonna. Anyway, Lance is participating in a special birthday salute that a bunch of us bloggers (their posts can be viewed by clicking the links at the end of this entry) are throwing for our friend, Mel at According to Mags. But, unfortunately, Lance got called away on family business tonight so he had to step away from the controls for a while. That’s where I come in.” An impish grin peals across her face. “Ooh! I should go comment on blogs all over the place and make asshole-y comments … in Lance’s name. That would be hiLARious, wouldn’t it?” She blushes when she remembers that Lance trusted her with this responsibility and assumed she would act like an adult. She sighs at the words ‘responsibility’ and ‘adult.’ “Anyway, if you haven’t already checked out Mel at According to Mags … well, then you’re just a damned fool. Get over there, man. … Now! … Seriously, we’ll wait.”
She turns to leave but then runs back in, realizing that she’s forgotten the most important part of her job. “Oh! And because he’s Lance, you KNOW he has a special song he wants to share for this momentous occasion. Lance can always select the perfect music like a sommelier selects wine. It’s actually quite impressive to witness his resolute certainty in pairing each song with the appropriate words. The song he selected for Mel’s birthday post? Simple Song by The Shins. I, of course, have never heard of it. Because it’s not a show tune.” She smiles, hoping you think she’s kidding.
“So … please enjoy Lance’s special tune for Mel’s birthday. It’s getting late. I gotta get back over to ODNT. Later, Lance’s friends.”