George: Hurry up with the glad handing, Bill.
McCartney's getting ready to go on.
Bill: Don't worry about it, George. I told em
not to start the show until we got back in our seats.
George: Why don't we just take these people's
seats? They're closer to the stage.
Bill: Good idea... Jack, tell these folks to
move along.
Jack: Yes sir.
Bill: Good deal, they left their beer. Oh,
look, here he comes now. Paul! Paul! It's me. Bill Clinton.
Paul: Oh, Mister Clinton, good to see you
chum. And who's your mate? Don't tell me... Chester Peabody, right?
Bill: No way I'd be here with Chester, Paul.
This is George Bush.
Paul: Holy cow! Pardon me for saying so, sir,
but you look a hell of a lot older in person.
George: Well you don't look like any spring
chicken either, Beatle Boy.
Bill: It's the first president Bush, Paul.
Paul: Bloody 'ell, there's more than one of
em? ...Very funny, Mister President, you had me going for a moment there.
Well, got to run. They've lit up the stage.
George: Take a look at the lights on that
stage.
Bill: Pretty gaudy, huh. Maybe they're gonna
show us some haute couture.
George: Ces grenouilles peuvent le souffler
hors de leur âne... Where's the band, Bill? All I see is Paul.
Bill: They're down there in a little band
hole, so you don't have to look at them. Like this song?
George: It's a little wild for my taste. I
wish he'd play one of his catchy little ditties, like 'Get Back'.
Bill: Not a problem. We'll send one of the
secret service guys up to tell him. Jack, tell Mac 'Get Back'.
Jack: Yes sir.
Paul <from stage>: For me next number, I've
got a bloody request I can't refuse... 'Jo Jo was a dancer up...'
George: Thanks, Bill. I didn't know we could
do that.
Bill: Hell, George, you telling me you didn't
know that? Being an ex-president is loads more fun than being president. You
can do anything you want, and people just smile and wave. If I wanted a
bacon-wrapped steak right now, they'd get me one in about five minutes.
George: Filets? Mmm, I could go for that...
Bill: Jack, get us a couple petite filets,
wrapped in bacon, and, uh...
George: Wine.
Bill: ...and some chardonnay, maybe a bottle
of Antinori Cervaro Della Sala.
Jack: Yes sir.
George: Whoa! What's happening up on stage?
Bill: It looks like some sort of serious
guitar malfunction.
Paul <from stage>: 'elp! Me bleedin guitar is
getting away from me!
George: Never saw that happen before...
Bill: Jack, go find Sir Paul another Hoffner,
or if you can't find that, just bring him a piano.
Jack: Yes sir.
Bill: And Jack, shoot off some fireworks
while you're back there. I like fireworks.
George: Everybody does... What the hell? What
the hell is this racket?
Bill: Oh, that's his James Bond song. 'Live
and Let Die'. Really sucks, doesn't it.
George: It sure does. I wish he'd just play
'Hey Jude' and get the hell off the stage.
Bill: Jack...
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