“Sure, Dick. Did you get those Widespread Panic tickets like I asked?”

“Yes sir. Uh, there’s something that I really need to speak….”

“What about those tickets for Trey Anastasio and Sade?”

“Taken care of. Sir, there’s something that’s been bothering me and…”

“What about next week’s schedule? I understand we had some gaps in the calendar.”

“We did some switching around. You’ll see Lee Rocker on Wednesday instead of Thursday, and we doubled up on Tuesday with Kip Winger in the morning and Ian Moore and The Cult after dinner. Oh, and Senator Clinton called.”

“Uh? Senator Clinton?”

“You know, Hillary? Former first lady? Your predecessor’s wife?”

“Oh, you mean Marilyn Manson.”

“Sir, that’s just what I wanted to talk to you about. All these nicknames you’ve been giving out have caused some embarrasssment.”

“Oh?”

“For instance, like the time you referred to the backers of McCain’s campaign reform bill as the Raft Of Dead Monkeys.”

“Gee, I can’t understand why anyone would have a problem with that, Dick. That’s a great band to be named after.”

“Then last week you called the House Democratic Leader, Limp Bizkit.”

“You gotta admit, Dick. It fits.”

“And Tipper Gore called. She’s not too pleased with you calling Al, ‘Dido.'”

“That was a mistake. I left out the letter ‘L.'”

“And what was that name you called the ambassador from the Vatican? Maximum Padre?”

“That’s Maxi Priest. Gosh, Dick, I didn’t realize that my nicknames for people were causing any trouble. I’ll stop it immediately.”

“Thank you, sir. You wouldn’t believe how much trouble that nickname you gave me caused.”

“But…”

“Have you any idea what it’s like to walk into the White House Press Room and the reporter from the Washington Post or The New York Times addresses you as ‘Big Dick?'”

“But…”

“I mean, is that anyway to treat the Vice President?”

“But, Dick.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I didn’t give you a nickname.”