By The Beachwood Red Phone Affairs Desk
Hillary Clinton’s “3 a.m.” TV commercial was so successful that Beachwood Labs has offering the following as sequels.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. Your calls are important to us and will be answered in the order they are received.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s for Hugh. Hugh Jass.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. The red phone. Two large pepperonis and a 10-piece order of chicken wings are on the way. Because you work at Domino’s.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s Karl Rove. He wants his phone back.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s Hillary Clinton telling Bill to come home.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings in the middle of the night. My father says what you gonna do with your life. Oh daddy please you know your still number one. And girls, they want to have fun.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. And only I have the experience to know how to pick it up and say, “Hello?”
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It’s 3 a.m. Your children are sleeping soundly in their beds. If they had any idea how fucked this country is, they’d be up pacing the floor and drinking whiskey, just like you.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s Walter Mondale telling Hillary to stop ripping off his commercial.
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Ring ring!
“Hello?”
“Hello, I’m Senator Hillary Clinton, and I am running for President of the United States.”
“Christ! Will these robo-calls ever stop? And worse, I’m still paying for them!”
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s the ghost with the bloody fingers, and now he’s only three miles away.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s coming from inside the White House!
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. “Is your refrigerator running?”
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s Prince Albert. “Help! I’m in a can!”
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. Your spouse rolls over and says, “Hey, who are all these people in our bedroom?”
It’s your network.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. And the nation’s telecoms are listening in, because they have immunity.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. And I’m not wearing pants.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s 9 a.m. in London.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s your booty call. Just one more time and then this has to end.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s important. It’s always important. They just keep calling. When will they get off your back? “Something is happening in the world again,” yeah, yeah. Well, the world will have to take care of itself tonight. You’re taking another Ambien.
Ambien: Fuck the World.
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It’s 3 a.m.. The phone rings. It’s the bill collector from China threatening to repossess our country again.
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It’s 3 a.m. The phone rings. It’s Dr. Evil, and he’s holding the world hostage for . . . one million dollars!
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It’s 4 a.m. The phone rings. Who has the experience to handle daylight savings time?
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– Tim Willette, Rick Kaempfer, Eric Emery, Marty Gangler, Steve Rhodes
Posted on March 5, 2008