Bite Me:  a Dogged Dave Cook Fan Report of Absolute Truth

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Folks, I've got the secret scoop on what's going down with the very newest member of David Cook's team! Shocking details below:

Scene: Cook Headquarters, Somewhere in LA

Present: Mister Sixx, a Harlequin Great Dane and Tulsa indie scene veteran; Dublin, a Scottish Terrier and newly arrived rockstar puppeh.

Dublin:  "Tiemann, tha' great inky bastard!!!! He best keep out my path, or I'll be puttin another hole in tha' glumshie face.

An as for you, Sixx:  it's Tulsa this, and Tulsa tha'.  I'm right sick of it, ye spotty puddock! I warnno born yesterday, ken ye that."

Mr. Sixx: "Yes, you were born a whole ten weeks ago, was it? And please do not insult my Human."

Dublin:  "I warno weaned from me mither's warm teat to wag me tail and haver while the Grrrreeatest Rock Musician of our degenerate times has a record to promote!

I mean, quit playin aboot, Fuller!  Declaration! Lie! Avalanche! Daily Anthem! Life On the Moon! These are sartain hits, why are they no on the radio at all, at all! An when are we goin on tewer!"

Sixx:  "My point is, impatience is futile.  You have to approach the entire concept of musical progression in a more holistic fashion. Back when Neal and I were discussing the concept for Luna Despierta, we spoke in terms of ascending spirals, a metaphor in which the concepts of advancing and returning are subsumed . . . one of the principals symbolic themes in the Tibetan Book of the Dead . . . "

Dubin: "Oh metaphor, me tiny black arse!   Ahm jist sayin, it's time for that next big step! Put out another bloody single, or the damn tour dates, or summat!"

Sixx:  "Sales for the month of January are at a cyclical lowpoint.  So long as Light On and and DCTR album sales continue to exhibit momentum, Cook and his management are doubtless focusing on the longer term arc of . . "

Dublin, interrupting:  "Arrch, ye're givin' me a headache.  Where at is the whiskay?"

Sixx, sighing: "I believe the Doctor keeps some in that cabinet!"

Dublin:  "Jack Daniels? Yeer bloody jokin'!  That's made of corn, this is!   Tis not whiskay at all! Oban, now that's a proper dram."

As Dublin pours himself a wee one and waves a diminutive paw in the air:  "Well, I'm not hanging aboot, I'm gonna due something! Release the damm tour dates, willya. Han' me the phoone!"

19E Headquarters, Los Angeles

Simon Fuller is sitting at his titanium desk, sipping a cup of tea. He speaks into his desk phone. "Miss Moneypenney!"  

"Uh, sir, my name is Destiny."

Fuller:  "Yes, and what were your parents thinking there? Silly Americans. Thank God they've made me so wealthy.  Anyway, Moneypenny, get me . . . (thinks) . . .  The President of Utah!  Today, I think I'll buy Utah.   That will show those bloody Archuleta fans who keep firebombing my castle.  Right, altogether now: Suck it, Archuleta! O Lord! Haaa Haa haaa!"

Destiny:  "Sir, Utah is a state, it has a governor, not a President.  And I don't think there's money enough in the world to buy one of the United States."

Fuller:  "Isn't there, Destiny? Isn't there!!!"

"Sir, call for you from David Cook's home line."

Fuller: "Super, super, put him on! Hello?  Is it me you're looking for!  Ha ha ha! Bet you're tired of that one, eh, old boy!  What's that barking sound? Right, well, yap yap yap to you to! Ha ha ha, good one, Cook. Now you get on back to making me money, right? Ta!  Odd lot, these Yanks."

"Now, there was something else on the Cook docket I meant to get done today. What was it? Gettin old, brain like a sieve. Ah well . . . Moneypenny, get my jet, I'm off to the pub!"

As Fuller exits, humming "Time of My Life,"  we see a large yellow sticky on the shiny Fuller desk: it reads: '"Reminder 2 me:  Release D Cook Tour Dates!!! "

---
Dublin: "#$@+!&!!!!!!!!"

Sixx, making note to get dictionary of Scottish slang: "I did warn you."

"Aye, aye, ye're the soul of wisdom an all that."

Sixx: "When Neal and I . . ."

Dublin, jealously: "O not again with yer bloody Doctor!  So he has yer great snout tattoed on his foreleg!  Not exactly in exclusive company, are ye laddie!   He has a great  f*ckin' octopus and yon shirtless lassie tatto'd on his ither arm too, an I don't see them around!  Is there a craiture on God's good earth that's not scribbled on tha lad, that'd what I'd like to know."

Sixx, smugly: "Now, now, I'm sure Cook will consider getting one of you if you're a good pet.  He could fit it on his big toe, I believe."

"Aye, that's torn it!  Jist you wait till I get rid of these milk teeth!"

Sixx: "If you're going to be irrational, this conversation is at an end. I suggest you work on your inner enlightment a bit more."  Trots off.

We leave the scene as Dublin pops in a well worn CD.  clutches the whiskey bottle and sings drunkenly: "Tis me Daily Anthem, an' ye'll all sing aloooooooooongg! Oh this is me favorite bit! Whooooa whoa whoa whoooooooooooooooo!"

Later:

Dublin:  "Lissen, Sixx, I dinna mean to be so nippit with ye.  In point of fact, tis your opinion and advice I'm seekin.  So if I ken ye right, yuir Human Doctor lad, he takit your advices, is what ye're telllin' me? "

Sixx: "Well, there are certain limits to communicating with humans, after all.  Generally, I would stare soulfully, and tilt my head like so . . . He seems to understand."

Dublin:  "The fact is, I'm beginnin to have me doots about me human.  He might be a bit slow, I'm thinkin.  I can't get him to hear me a bit aboot the whole job of makin him the biggest rock star in the world, as he rightly deserves to be.  Why the other day, when I had the most brilliant idea aboot raisin his chart position, I couldna get through to him at all, the cuddie."

Sixx:  "How did you attempt to convey this brilliant notion?"

Dublin: "I pooped on his carpet, o' course, where he'd be sure to find it.  An instead of sniffin it for messages like any sane beast would do, he tosses it straight out and gives me a whack on the nose, the loon."

Sixx:  "Humans, so limited.  Well, there is one way.  I sometimes find I can influence human opinion, indirectly as it were, buy adopting a primate persona and using one of their own tools to communicate with them."

Leads Dublin to a computer.

Six hours later.

Dublin:  This is bloody great!  It's jist as ye said, lad. I've got the silly gomerils eatin out a me paw.  Now we can get crackin'!  Grassroots fer the win!  On the internet, no body knows yer a dog.

Notes:
Dublin
Mister Sixx (in illustrated form)
Luna Despierta
Scottish Whiskey
On the Internet, no one knows you're a dog

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