Hilarious Spoof

Hilarious Clay-Kelly spoof we found on a blog. It'll take you a while to read though!

Eeyore's Not So Glommy Place
Nicedonkey Blog

*sigh* Teacher!Clay! is all kindsa hawt. He can school me anytime.
In fact, he already has.
Because the great thing about Teacher!Clay! is that he's so much more than that. He's also an ambassador, a playwright, and a sexy singer man. He teaches while he's singing, he teaches while he's writing, he even teaches while he's sleeping (before you get all excited at that thought, I just meant that he usually gets a nap in while Gregory is studying pre-algebra). It's all about finding those teachable moments. For instance, even though this is the fifteenth skit I've written (yes, I counted), I still have some room to learn, and am definitely open for instruction. I watched, I listened, and I learned a lot about skit-writing by studying Clay's carefully crafted debut. So I've decided to make some changes, starting right now.
Number one: Limit the number of speaking characters to two. (Hear that, Clay?) Trying to keep track of all the different characters' motivations and voices can be extremely taxing on the playwright, especially when they combine with all the other voices that already live in a typical playwright's head. If it's important to hear someone else's point of view, it's easiest to start several of the speaking character's lines with something like, "My mom always says...," "My mom said...." or even the simpler "Mom says...." The possibilities are endless.
Number two: If you ever need to move things along or change direction suddenly, it's best to have a sort of guardian angel character. It's way easier than trying to tie things together logically. I know that the circular logic I've employed in the past can get a little confusing for my readers, but NO MORE! I've decided to cast Raleigh in this role for all my future skits, so if you notice her scratching herself or licking herself, and then the other characters getting grossed out by that, so much so that they forget what they were talking about and move on to something completely unrelated, or if she maybe eats the ticket with the winning lotto numbers on it so that Clay is forced to enter the local talent competition and win in order to save his job and Christmas spirit, now you know why.
Number three: Hammer it home! Okay, I'll admit that I've employed this strategy in the past, but purely for sexual purposes. I normally prefer that my jokes and references be of the more subtle, innuendo-laden variety. I want my readers to be in a constant state of slight "Did she say what I think she said?" confusion. Clay's definition of "subtle"appears to be different than mine. He seems to think it's better to repeat the same basic punchline four different ways, in his quest to for the audience to get his joke. And when it comes to delivering the more important central message, he's taught me to use a multi-pronged approach. Leave no stone unturned! First, have the characters deliver the message, not once, but twice. It's not enough to have them deliver it indirectly through their actions, which requires the audience to use their own, possibly faulty, interpretive skills, so be sure they deliver the message orally as well, in very clear language. Then use a voice-over, which always carries more authority. Then have the voice-over guy come out and deliver the message again more conversationally to the audience (I know this breaks rule number one, but rules can be broken if the voice-over guy is really super-cute in his handsome black suit). Finally, make sure you hire a really effective executive producer and artistic consultant to spread the message through your official fan club, because Clay's message is so new and confusing and different from the messages of most Christmas stories already out there, but besides being new and different, the message is also very important, not just to Clay, but to the world at large, so his fans really need to understand it, and Nick lost the camera so it's not like there's anybody to take a picture or draw a diagram or anything, so maybe it's best to stop thinking about it and just embrace it already, flaws and all, because a hug really is warmer when you're in it.
*sigh* I'm not gonna do that.
Nope. I'm just gonna write some stuff, which is based only slightly in reality, and if you're lucky enough to get a message from it (beyond "that's one crazy bitch”), please be kind enough to share with the rest of us. I'll give my other standard disclaimers, which are: I have no real knowledge of Clay or any of his friends and co-workers; I bear none of them any ill-will whatsoever, but will simply use them for my own benefit, to make a joke funnier or move the plot in a different direction when Raleigh is sleeping; I simply adore Clay Aiken and wouldn't take as much time and effort to do this if he weren't a part of my every waking thoughts. Please enjoy my Christmas gift to you:

A Christmas Clelly
December 26, 2005
Clay: (on his cell phone) C'mon, pick up, pick up, pick up.
Kelly: Hello?
Clay: Oh, Kelly, thank goodness you're home.
Kelly: Clay?
Clay: Yes, it's Clay, or whatever's left of him.
Kelly: Merry Christmas, Goober. What's wrong?
Clay: Merry Christmas to you too. What's wrong is that I decided it would be fun to stay at my Mom's house instead of a hotel. Big mistake.
Kelly: What's so bad about being at your Mom's house? Don't you love your mama? (laughs)
Clay: Of course I do. But there are ten people staying here! I feel like I'm back at camp.
Kelly: Ten people!? Who all is there?
Clay: Me, my mom, my brother, three of his marine buddies, and then Nolan, Adam, Patricia, and Jaymes.
Kelly: Oh my god.
Clay: Tell me about it.
Kelly: (laughs) Who made the sleeping arrangements?
Clay: Well, of course my mom did, since it's her house and all, (quieter) even though I paid for it.
Kelly: (gasps a little) Cla-ay! Well, at least you didn't have to decide whether you'd rather sleep with Jaymes or Patricia. (laughs)
Clay: Kelly! Are you digging for dirt again? Don't you know some things are better left to the imagination? Anyway, Mom put them together in the shrin..., er, extra room over the garage. I don't even want to know what they're doing in there. It sounds like they're either wrestling or moving furniture or something most of the day. Lots of grunting and moaning.
Kelly: Okay. I don't need to hear anymore. Do you have to share your room with anybody?
Clay: Oh my god, you won't believe this. First of all, it's not even my room anymore. Mom converted it.
Kelly: Converted it? Into like a sewing room or office or something?
Clay: Nope. A massage room. Crap. I never should've given her that idea.
Kelly: Serves you right! Who's sleeping on the massage table?
Clay: Nolan.
Kelly: Oh my god, I was just kidding!
Clay: Adam and I are on blow-up mattresses on the floor. Man. Can you believe it? And they don't mind at all, since they're used to such cramped quarters on their tour bus. Well, I'm sorry, I'm used to having my own master suite, even on the tour bus. And the worst part is that in the middle of the night, instead of just sleeping like normal people, they're discussing their charades strategy.
Kelly: Charades strategy?
Clay: Yes, they're trying to figure out a way to beat Brett and his friends. It seems they learned a thing or two about secret codes in the military, and they're virtually unbeatable.
Kelly: Then why don't you just split them into different teams?
Clay: Kelly. Dancers and Marines don't mix. I mean, we tried putting Patricia on their team, and that was just a debacle. It didn't matter what clue they were trying to mime, they always found an excuse to pick her up and twisted her around like a pretzel. (under breath) She's very bendy. I thought she was going to storm out of the house on Christmas Eve, but then she saw Jaymes at the top of the stairs with tears in her eyes, and decided to stick it out. The two of them have really bonded.
Kelly: Or something. Okay, I can understand the Kents and Nolan being there, but why is Jaymes staying with you? Doesn't she have her own husband or family or anything?
Clay: I thought so, but I'm not really sure anymore. I mean, I know she's a total workaholic and totally devoted to my new CD....I've never thought anyone would be more dedicated than me in delaying its release, but wow. She's amazing. It's just so different than when Measure of a Man was released. We only delayed that CD two months from its initial August release date! I can't believe how amateurish that seems now.
Kelly: Okay, Clay, I get it, but focus. Why is Jaymes there? I wouldn't think she'd have to help you with your CD or its delay over the holidays.
Clay: Oh no, we're not going to start delaying it again until January, when I think about getting back in the studio. It seems I have to re-record some stuff, since Jaymes "accidentally"lost some master tracks when she used the production engineer's laptop to play solitaire. It seems he was logged in to the site where all password protected sound files are stored before they're mixed, and when she tried to peek under one of her cards, some files were corrupted. (Raleigh starts licking herself at his feet) Stop it, Raleigh, that's disgusting.
Kelly: Where are you calling from anyway?
Clay: The bathroom.
Kelly: Gross! You're not on the toilet, are you?
Clay: Well, I'm sitting on it, but don't worry; the lid is down. It's the only place I get any privacy right now. Raleigh, cut it out! Okay, you were asking about Jaymes, weren't you? I told her that Patricia and her brother were coming for Christmas, and she felt really bad that Patricia would be the only girl here. I reminded her that my mom was a girl, and she said, "Not good enough,"and hopped on the next plane. Now she and Patricia are practically connected at the hip.
Kelly: Well, that's not too creepy. Anyway....don't you have something to say to me?
Clay: What? I wished you a Merry Christmas.
Kelly: Yes, and it was quite festive of you. No, Goober, I'm talking about the Grammy awards.
Clay: Oh that's right! Congratulations on your nomination.
Kelly: Thank you.
Clay: You're welcome. I really hope you win, too. (sighs) I'm so glad I don't have the stress of worrying about nominations. It's so much easier when you don't release any new material.
Kelly: Well, you'll have that stress next year, so get ready for it.
Clay: Who says I'll have that stress? Didn't you hear me say that Jaymes was an amazing executive producer? This album may not be out in 2006 or even 2007 the way things are going. The other executive producers I've worked with just afforded me a handshake and a half-hour meeting. Jaymes has spent months upon months just getting to see what makes me tick.
Kelly: So did you show her?
Clay: What?
Kelly: What makes you tick. Your "special clock.”
Clay: Don't be disgusting, Kelly. No, she's trying to help me find my musical direction. But now that I've grown so much as an artist, we have to start all over in a different direction. It's like we're stuck in that maze from The Shining, and we may never find our way out.
Kelly: Well, you'd better do it soon, or your fans are going to come after you with chainsaws.
Clay: Kelly. How many times do I have to tell you that I can handle my fans just fine? I just have to blog or sing every few weeks and they're happy. Didn't you hear me sing on The Today Show? How was that for eight o'clock in the morning?
Kelly: Of course I heard you. You programmed my Tivo to record all your performances, remember? (sighs) Yes, you sounded nice.
Clay: And did you catch my performance on Good Morning America?
Kelly: Yes, I did, you big meanie. Thanks for stealing my song, by the way.
Clay: Ooooh. Kelly doesn't like the competition.
Kelly: I thought that was your line.
Clay: Only in public. Pretty good for not warming up though, ain't it? So....you still warming up your voice before all your performances? How's that working for you?
Kelly: Shut up.
Clay: I'm just saying....
Kelly: Well stop it. I'll keep warming up and winning awards and hearing my songs on the radio, and you can keep NOT warming up and whatever else it is that you do.
Clay: Sing like an angel. (he pauses and then both break out laughing)
Kelly: You are the biggest dork ever! I miss you, y'know.
Clay: And I miss you too. Hey, did you get my Christmas presents?
Kelly: I sure did. I really like how you stacked up the three round boxes like some kind of squashed, demented snowman. Very clever. Of course I had to open the big one at the bottom first.
Clay: Did you like it?
Kelly: The round ottoman? I loved it! If I didn't know any better, I'd swear it's the same ottoman from your old house. Oh man! It brings back such good memories of Karoake Fight Nights at Casa Aiken.
Clay: Kelly!!! You forgot the first rule of Karoake Fight Club.
Kelly: (gasps) Oh that's right.
Both in unison: Don't talk about Karoke Fight Club.
Kelly: Wasn't it funny how we'd stand on the ottoman and push each other around, and then make Nick stand on the outside stair railing and try to aim the chandelier toward us like a spotlight? Oh my god. He musta fallen off that railing three or four times altogether.
Clay: Yeah, that was a lot of fun. But not as much fun as Spin the Pop Star.
Kelly: Oh my god! I remember the first time we tried to spin you, and you couldn't find your balance point, because your stupid big feet seem to add way more weight to your bottom half than any of the other guys, and then you spun your head right into the piano leg! Hahaha!
Clay: And the irony is that I was aiming for Angela's leg, which would have been a much softer landing. (rubs forehead at the memory) So how about my other two gifts? Did you like 'em?
Kelly: Are you actually counting those seven Clay Aiken thongs as a real gift? I thought they were a joke.
Clay: Oh, it's no joke, Kelly. A thong for every day of the week. You should be wearing one right now.
Kelly: You're the biggest goober ever! Why does my crotch need to heart Clay Aiken anyway?
Clay: (sighs) Your crotch doesn't heart Clay Aiken. Clay Aiken hearts your crotch, er, not your crotch per se, but Clay Aiken hearts whichever lovely lady owns the crotch. Ugh. That doesn't sound right. Clay Aiken hearts the ladies.
Kelly: Clay Aiken is a total slut.
Clay: Don't I know it.
Kelly: I'll give you one thing; you don't discriminate. One size fits all.
Clay: Yessiree. I love all the ladies equally. So, what d'ya say, Kel? Gonna run out and put on one of my thongs right now?
Kelly: Clay. You know I don't wear underwear.
Clay: Kelly, the entire world knows you don't wear underwear. Don't you love God, Kelly?
Kelly: Of course I do! What does that have to do with anything?
Clay: Well, I was recently talking to some lame reporter, and I don't remember much of what we talked about, but I do remember having a revelation: People who love God wear underwear.
Kelly: Oh yeah? You love God, and yet it wasn't too long ago that you didn't wear underwear either.
Clay: I have always worn underwear!
Kelly: You have not, you big liar! Ruben told me you almost never did on the American Idol tour and I know for a fact that you did not wear underwear every day on our Independent Tour.
Clay: But that was only because I didn't have anybody I could trust to wash it, and I didn't always get a clean stash back from Mom on time.
Kelly: You could've washed your own, y'know. (pauses and then both break out laughing)
Clay: It doesn't matter anymore, because I've got Nick and Mary on the road with me now. Yup. I'm a God-lovin', clean undies-wearin' man.
Kelly: Well, you can just call me Commando Clarkson.
Clay: But Kelly, what happens if you split the back of your pants? Don't tell anyone, but when I was at the Early Show a couple weeks ago, I tried to sneak a peek into the green room to see what Giselle was eating, so I could bring her that same thing later, and she'd be all impressed that I knew what she liked, and then I totally split my jeans from bending back too quickly when Rene walked by, and then I had to do my interview and songs sitting on a stool the whole time while everyone else was standing. I felt so stupid. The worst part was that Giselle didn't actually even eat anything. She just leaned over the table and smelled everything in one sweeping motion. It was kinda nice to watch though.
Kelly: You are such a dork. I'll tell you what. I promise not to go ogling any super models, and my pants will stay in one piece. (pause) What's that noise?
Clay: That's Raleigh licking herself again. (sighs) At least I can say I tried with the underwear. Anyway, what did you think of the middle gift? My fans are kinda ticked that I sent it in that big round box. I only had two of them to begin with, and I used them both for Christmas presents. Man, malls are so stingy these days. Since when do you have to pay extra for a giftbox?
Kelly: Tell me about it. That's why I only use bags now.
Clay: I prefer boxes. What did you think of the present?
Kelly: Clay. You know I love you even though I don't always understand you, right?
Clay: Of course. Everybody does.
Kelly: (sighs) I'm sorry to say I didn't get the point of that gift at all, even if you meant it as a joke.
Clay: What? It was the classiest and most traditional gift of all three of them!
Kelly: A mangled saxophone is classy and traditional? It looks like it was run over by your tour bus or something – there are tire marks all over it. On top of that, the gift box smelled like pee!
Clay: What?!? I'm so going to kill Nick.
Kelly: Why?
Clay: Oh my god, Kelly, somehow Nick sent you the wrong gift. Nuts, I knew I should've used different boxes, but it's not like Raleigh peed in both of them so he couldn't tell them apart. I'm so sorry, Kelly. If you want your real present, which was a very nice cashmere sweater with matching accessories – don't worry; Quiana and Angela picked it out – it's somewhere in Fresno.
Kelly: The box said "A timeless classic to keep you warm."It looked like your handwriting.
Clay: I wrote that on both boxes. The sentiment seemed to fit.
Kelly: You are such a goober. Did you get my present? I sent it to your mom's house, since your new place wasn't ready. Hee! I just hope you're able to move it when the time comes.
Clay: Don't worry; my friends were able to move two overloaded SUVs in the sand last summer; they can certainly move a swing set.
Kelly: Especially when it's all in boxes. Ohmigod. You haven't set it up at your Mom's house, have you?
Clay: Of course I have! Well, I should say that I got Mary to do it before she went home for Christmas. But I need my relaxation, since Mom won't let me use the massage room for its intended purpose. Kelly, that swing set it the best present ever. I especially love the fort addition. We've been using it quite a bit since Brett and his Marine friends are here. HA! You should see some of Adam's and Nolan's escape maneuvers over the top bar!
Kelly: I can picture it. Man, it must be fun having a lot of guys around the house, especially when you can boss them all around like a big brother.
Clay: Don't I wish! Nope, I can't even boss my real little brother around anymore. Every time I try to get him to bring me a sandwich or a clean towel or something and he refuses, I mention how I bought him that car, and then he just mentions that he served his country for six months and could've died at any time, so I end up bringing HIM something instead. I have never made so many sandwiches.
Kelly: So quit bossing him around already!
Clay: It's a hard habit to break, Kel.
Kelly: Well, at least you can make yourself that sandwich while you're making one for Brett.
Clay: Nope. Too much work.
Kelly: Have I told you lately that you're the biggest dork I ever met?
Clay: Once or twice today.
Kelly: Why don't you just get Patricia or Jaymes to make you sandwiches and bring you towels?
Clay: Can't. Well, that's not totally true. I did ask them, and well, you know how I like to eat my sandwiches in bed, and then BOTH of them made me these supposedly fantastic sandwiches with all kinds of ingredients, when I really don't like more than two at a time, and then they were both trying to get me to say that their sandwich was the best and could they get me anything to drink to go along with it, and why don't you let me straighten out your pillows while I'm here, and oh my Lord and Taylor, I'm not even going to talk about what happened when I asked for a clean face towel while I was shaving....
Kelly: Good, because I don't want to hear it.
Clay: Now, they've got something special planned for Boxing Day. Oh god, Kelly, do you have any idea what that is?
Kelly: None at all, but I hope for your sake that it isn't boxing in a ring.
Clay: What? You don't think I could take 'em? (pause and then they both break out laughing) Boxing Day, hmmm. It must have something to do with boxes.
Kelly: Well, that should be good for you, since you did say you were a box kind of guy.
Clay: No, I've said I'm a boxers kind of guy, although Mary finally told me why I'm better off wearing briefs when I'm on stage.
Kelly: Clay! In this very phone call, you said you preferred gift boxes to bags!
Clay: Duh, Kelly, of course I do. Bags let things jiggle around too much and sometimes your junk just flies all over the place. (pauses) Oh god. You don't think they're supposed to put me in a box, do you? They did look kinda mischievous when they saw those big discarded boxes that the swing set came in, but then one of Brett's friends crafted them into a second fort, complete with supply room and sleeping quarters.
Kelly: (sighs and laughs) I hope you're getting lots of video. This has to be one of the most memorable Parker Family Christmases in a looooong time.
Clay: Kelly!!! What am I going to do if they gang up and try to put me into a box? I don't want to go into some nasty old box!
Kelly: Clay! Calm down already! Geesh. (pause) I know! Do you have any of those thongs lying around?
Clay: Clay Aiken thongs? Of course I do. I always carry a few extras in my pockets, just in case.
Kelly: Just in case....? Never mind. Well, maybe you don't know this, but from personal experience, I can tell you they make awesome slingshots. My boyfriend, my brother and I had a pretty hard-core battle last night, and even after they ganged up on me and thought they'd disarmed me, I was able to whip out that seventh thong and shoot my way to victory! Woo-hoo!
Clay: That's a great idea, Kelly! What do I use for ammunition?
Kelly: Just about anything that fits in your hand will work, but those blinking heart-shaped lights your fans handed out at our Independent Tour seem to work particularly well.
Clay: Thanks, Kel. I'm ready for action. Oh god, my mom is looking for me. I can hear her coming up the stairs. Yes, yes, I hear you, Mom, and yes, my laundry will sit in that pile until either Nick or Mary stops by to pick it up and wash it. On second thought, I'd better go move it before it gets abducted for some weird Boxing Day ritual. Little do Jaymes and Patricia know, I've figured out their plan and will use their strengths against them. Don't you just love the holidays?
Kelly: Oh yes! It's always a time of thoughtful reflection. Merry Christmas, Goober.
Clay: Merry Christmas, Kelly.
Kelly: And wish everyone at Camp Parker a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from me, especially your Mom and brother.
Clay: Done! And the same to your family from me!
Kelly: Thanks! And it sounds like you'll be more ready than ever to deal with your fans when you're back on the road.
Clay: Plus we have a couple of new games to play the next time we get together.
Kelly: I can't wait! Thanks for calling, Clay.
Clay: Thanks for listening, Kelly. Love you!
Kelly: I love you too. Bye!
Clay: Bye!
After snapping his cellphone shut, Clay loads a spare roll of toilet paper into a Clay Aiken thong, shushes Raleigh at his feet, then quietly opens the bathroom door, as he prepares to make his way to the pile of dirty laundry in the massage room, slingshot at the ready....and promptly gets hit by nine pairs of tighty whities flung from every direction, rubber-band style. He automatically brings up his arms to protect his face, and the roll of toilet paper falls limply at his feet, providing some much-needed entertainment (and a snack!) for Raleigh.
He looks up when the barrage has ended to see the rest of the household laughing and smiling, "Happy Boxing Day!"Clay straightens himself to his full height and makes eye contact with all nine of his housemates in turn as he slowly speaks:
Clay: *Ahem* I hope you're all happy with yourselves. People who love God wear underwear; they do not fling it. (He kicks up a pair with his foot.) Second, I'm not going to pick these up, and if that means that I go without clean underwear for the rest of the tour, so be it. Finally, I have a question for all of you. (He dramatically stoops to pick up the roll of toilet paper, but has to wrestle it from Raleigh a little more than he would have liked, then finally gets it back into his slingshot thong, which he again aims toward his friends and family.) What are you doing New Year's Eve?
And with that, new holiday traditions were born, traditions which have nothing to do with the true origins of Christmas or Boxing Day or New Years, but everything to do with family and friends getting together for any length of time in a limited amount of space...and isn't that what the holidays are really all about?