Okay, this FakeSteve guy is not only in many ways better than the real thing could possibly be . . . as well as so like himself as to give the true Jobso fan chills up and down the spine (I leave it to you to decide who “himself” is) … he is now, also, a friggin genius.
For surely “Not that one, my Bidness Nose!” shall go down in the Book of Great Lines … to be inscribed by monks, many, many years hence … after the whole, humungous explosion is over.
Monks in shorts. It will be very, very hot.
They will make books the old way, out of goat skin, and ink from gall and berries … and every now and then, out of boredom and the natural desire for a good time, one monk will whisper, “Tito!”
Another, already in stitches, will whisper in reply, “Not that one! My bidness nose!”
Then they will all fall off their stools in fits of barely-suppressed laughter. Just like in study hall.
Not much inscribing the rest of that day.
I don’t spose we’ll ever know if FS really ran into Michael—yet is this not one credible riff?
“Then he turns to Tito and says, Tito, give me my nose. Tito opens a case and pulls out a nose. Michael goes, Damn, Tito, not that nose! My bidness nose! Tito’s like, I thought this was an audition. Michael says No, it’s a business meeting, and I need my bidness nose, and dammit, Tito, I swear I’m gonna smack you, you know that?”
One wonders if RS is funky enough to have the same sort of … reverie?
Who the fuck cares, this guy is good.
