Hey, guess what, Peter? You're a turd.
Also, you're grouchy. What's the big hairy deal, buddy? I showed up on time for the audition, early even. I had been memorizing "La Cucaracha" in it's native Spanish all afternoon. I'd been practicing butchering it in a thick southern accent, just like you told me to. I did everything right. So why were you mad at me when you completely changed the sides on me without telling me? Shouldn't I have been the one who's mad? You didn't call my agent to tell her you changed the script at the last minute, so I was no longer going to sing a Mexican folk song about Pancho Villa to advertise your new fast food breakfast burrito. I might be wrong, but I think that makes you as the as the villain here. So, don't you go into the audition grouchy and stand-offish with me, Mister. It's your job to watch a million actors a day read the same lines again and again. If you don't like it, you can just "butter my butt and call me a biscuit." Oh, did I say that too over-the-top for you? Maybe it's because it's an over-the-top line.
Kiss my grits, Peter. You're still a turd.
-Unhappy in Universal City
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