Testimonials

Chad drives in his $150,000 car, and hears about some condo that someone wants to sell from his car guy, Louis, on his speakerphone. He meets Louie and Jonathan in an underground garage, like he's Deep Throat or something. Jonathan looks at Chad like, "What the hell is this 8th grader doing here? Shouldn't he be at home growing pubes and applying Stridex pads to his face?" Yes, Jonathan. He should. Jonathan asks Chad how long he's been doing this, and says that Chad looks very young. Chad opens his big fat gob and says he "sold his soul to the devil." For that hair? Chad, you got a raw deal. He says he "never ages." Flash-forward 10 years from now: Chad, in an Alf t-shirt, beer belly hanging out, sits on his couch eating cookie dough, his apartment littered with Natural Light cans. Jonathan makes a Dorian Gray allusion, which I hope is a thinly veiled insult. Chad is all, "Who's Dorian Gray?" Education. Is nothing. To Chad.

They enter the condo, which is typical rich person style. Oh, but it's a "dicey" part of Hollywood, meaning that the closest Whole Foods is nearly 5 blocks away. Nooooooooo! Chad says, "Location. Is everything." Why hasn't anyone said, "I don't sell houses. I sell dreams."? That's what I'd say. Or, "I don't sell houses. I sell the future. And the future. Is everything." Okay, so Chad thinks the condo is worth $950,000, but Jonathan says it's worth more, so Chad says he'll list it for $1,045,000, which means his commission is around $26,000. I still dislike you, Chad.

After commercials for Mamma Mia (whatever, I still want to see it), and evil gay-hating eHarmony, we're back. Trust Fund is meeting with Michael, some rich L.A. executor, about maybe doing a little yard-work for extra money. Just kidding! He wants to sell Michael's house, silly! Fascinating. And yet, not so much. Carole Lombard owned the house, and Clark Gable was there, you know, doing her and stuff. Also? It's ugly. And in really bad shape. And haunted by the ghost of Carole Lombard, so an exorcism will have to be performed by the weird short lady from Poltergeist. Michael wants to sell the house quickly. It will list at $3,250,000, with a commission of $81,250 for Trust Fund. Like he needs it with all that sweet, sweet polyester money. I hate you, Trust Fund.

Did I tell you about the time I invented bunny rabbits? I thought to myself, that puppy needs some big floppy ears and then BANG I was rich.

Back to the only likeable person, Mad. Carolina, Mad's nice hottie assistant tells him of a person who's selling all the Desperate Housewives DVDs for $40! No, not really - she tells him about a guy who wants to sell a house, silly! Excitement ensues in Mad's office. Furious typing! Intern googling! Printing! Cubicle . . . walking over to. Office work. Is everything. Carolina says that Mad is good because he's always on the run. She says that she has something really important to tell him, but it's hard to find the time because he's just so busy. Oooohhhh, shit. Carolina is totally pregnant with Mad's baby, from that time after the office holiday party when they both got drunk on peppermint Schnapp's, and Carolina was all, "Let's go dancing!" and Mad was all, "Ohmigod yes!" and then after dancing, they took a cab home, and Mad was all, "You can come in if you want," and Carolina was all, "Oh. Okay," and after Carolina threw up in the bathroom, she came back and was all, "You're sexy" and Mad was all, "You're sexy too," and they totally had horrible sex and regretted it the next morning and now everything is awkward in the office. Drunk pity sex. Is everything.

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Posted in Million Dollar Listing by Hypnotoad at 4:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (10)
Last Comment: bongofl on Aug 24, 2008 01:40 PM.