Marvin: Hey I'm alive and my penis still works, so it's a DAMN good day, HAHAHAHA yaknowwhatimsayin?!! Where you headed?
CC: Um, yes I think so. Denver, Colorado.
Marvin: And just so we're clear I'm charging this ride to Insane Italian Industries?
CC: Well actually when I called your car service I just asked for a regular taxi, and only joked about sending a limousine. There is no expense account, or in fact any real company called Insane Italian. It's a make believe webs---
Marvin: Say no more! I like your style Mr. C. Shadow banking and offshore shell corporations. Billing diverted to a West Indies beach mailbox. Well played. You know if you're ever looking for a partner, you can always call Miracle Marvin right?
CC: It's really not like that. I actually just write a blog that includes these ridiculous fake interviews that make me laugh and I pretend that it's a giant international thing. But what's actually happening is a little bit vain and depressing, like telling jokes to yourself in front of a mirror with a pretty good buzz on.
Marvin: Whatever you say boss. So Denver huh? You know that airport out there, DIA, is actually an underground military base for when shit goes down and the Illuminati convene to take over the world. There's like 40 miles of secret tunnels and they're all patrolled 24-7 by National Guard.
CC: That's really not true at all. There are a few miles of unused tunnels that are leftover from a failed automated baggage system. They are not guarded by soldiers and there is no --
Marvin: C'mon brother! The runways are laid out like a swastika. There are paintings of warlords in gas masks, burning cities and dead children in the baggage claim area. And of course, they've got Satan's Steed guarding the front gates. His glowing red eyes? GPS guidance lasers to direct Freemason reconnaissance satellites.
Marvin: No way man, I hardly go online anymore. The internet is just an elaborate trap run by the Chinese government. Chink bastards set the whole thing up to get us to upload all of our banking and personal data - our WHOLE LIVES online - and then when they've got everyone, they're going to hit the kill switch and wipe it all out. BOOM. All of America will be dark soon Mr. C. Guard your assets. Cash out your accounts. Buy salt, not gold. Gold will be worthless. China has like 5 million gold mines. I've got 7600 salt blocks so far at my Delaware condo.
CC: That's...disturbing. So you live in Delaware?
Marvin: Are you f*$#ing kidding me!?! No way. Gangsters run the whole state. Wilmington is worse than São Paulo. And don't even get me started on Philly. I'd rather spend a night hitchhiking in Lagos, Nigeria than go to an Eagles game. I live on a houseboat in an unmapped cove of the Chesapeake Bay.
CC: I bet you've never been accused of being stingy with hyperbole.
Marvin: No haha, I don't believe I have. Is that some sort of Jew jab? Because my sister-in-law is a Heeb and let me tell ya, she'd check your suit pockets for change as you were being lowered into the grave.
CC: We're so off course from what I was saying, I think I'm just going to leave it alone. Are we almost there yet?
Marvin: Well we'd be there already if these gorditas with the goddamn Hanging Gardens of Babylon spilling out of their Isuzu pickup would get out of my lane. What airline you flying?
CC: US Airways.
Marvin: Scareways?! Shit, good luck. You'd be better off buying a Soviet Scud off eBay and flying there yourself. They'll probably stick you in one of their tin-coated plastic Airbuses. A freakin NintendoJet. You know those sumbitches are 100% computer controlled now, with no input from the pilot whatsoever. A million years would go by before you caught me strapped inside one of those French death tubes. The reality is, those Boursin-shitting frogs couldn't give a snail's ass if one of their die-by-wire Parisian pisscans plunged into the sea. Most people don't even know that Airbus is actually insured by a Russian corporation and that whenever there's a crash ---
CC: This is good right here Marv, thanks. Send the bill to my secretary Miss Cleo. Just outside of Bridgetown, Barbados.