“Pitches For New Tequila Commercials,” by Miles Kahn

Jul 9th, 2014 | By | Category: Fake Nonfiction, Prose

Stephen Dorff enters a Mexican bar somewhere in Mexico. It’s sketchy, but it’s clear Stephen Dorff couldn’t care less. He saunters up to the bar, electric cigarette dangling from his lips, and gives the grizzled bartender a look that says, “You know what I want and what I want is a delicious, ultra premium top shelf tequila.” The bartender pours him a shot from a nondescript bottle of tequila. Stephen Dorff glares at him, beyond annoyed. The bartender totally gets it and is like, “Whoa, this guy knows his tequila,” and pours him a shot of ultra-slow filtrated Avión premium tequila. They share a brief laugh, but then suddenly they stop. Everything goes slow-mo. There’s a fierce electricity in the air. An unspoken desire dances on the dust between them. It’s a longing that is both exhilarating and dangerous. Then they just sort of make out while Joe Elliott from Def Leppard sings “Animal” in the background.

Ray Liotta, Michael Imperioli, Harvey Keitel, Ron Perlman and Tom Waits—our “1800 Tequila Rat Pack”—burst menacingly into a modern Vegas casino full of midwestern tourists and androgynous Cirque du Soleil performers. A cocktail waitress comes by with a tray of fruity cocktails in Disney-themed glasses. They are disgusted. What’s happened to their Vegas? The real Vegas of Sinatra and Bennett and sassy broads with cigarette trays? Ray Liota is not having it. He takes out a huge bottle of silky smooth 1800 ultra premium tequila that he was hiding in his coat jacket and downs a long, satisfying swill. Michael Imperioli is kind of surprised and asks Ray if he always has tequila in his pocket. Harvey Keitel and Ron Perlman agree it’s kind of strange to just carry around the crisp, sophisticated taste of 1800 ultra premium tequila on his person at all times. Tom hands him a pamphlet for a group he goes to sometimes when he’s feeling out of control. End shot: the 1800 Tequila Rat Pack is on line for the buffet at the

Kris Kristofferson walks into the Fox Hollow Inn, a mid-level event space in Huntington, Long Island, where a baseball-themed Bar Mitzvah reception is taking place. It’s clear these squares have never tasted the smooth, refined, blue agave goodness of Patron Silver. Kristofferson steals the mic off the kid’s grandfather who’s in the middle of some prayer over wine or something, and informs everyone that only pussies drink off-brand tequila. He dumps the wine from the kid’s fancy Jewish chalice and fills it to the brim with ice cold Patron Silver. On the way out he slaps the ass of a hot female Rabbi. Tagline: “You’re a man now. Drink Patron.”

Wesley Snipes is in an airport bar drinking a glistening glass of Don Julio alone, watching CNN. No one seems to recognize him. A group of laughing German tourists walk up to the bar and order “shots of “anything.” The bartender reaches for a plain bottle of tequila. Snipes grabs the wrist of the bartender and stops him mid-pour. He explains to the Germans that the 100% blue agave of Don Julio has a light, black pepper taste that is far superior to that of the low end tequila they are about to sample. The Germans pretend not to understand English and move to the other side of the bar.

Kiefer Sutherland walks into a bar and cashes a check that he got from Jose Cuervo.

Michael Fassbender walks into an old-fashioned Texas saloon. He’s dressed as a cowboy outlaw, but with no pants. His big, beautiful, strong penis is just waving in the wind, leading the way to the bar. Other patrons turn in fear of Michael Fassbender’s penis—it is truly a legend. The barkeep takes out one of those XXX jugs of moonshine, but Michael Fassbender’s penis is unimpressed and swipes it off the bar onto the floor. The patrons cower. The barkeep now knows Michael Fassbender’s penis means business. So he takes out a bottle of dark and creamy Herradura Añjeo. Michael Fassbender’s penis wraps itself around the bottle and pours itself a shot. The crowd, no longer in fear, cheers for Michael Fassbender’s penis. End Shot: The bottle of Herradura is in focus in the foreground, while in the background, Michael Fassbender’s penis cures cancer.

Miles Kahn is an award-winning filmmaker currently working as a Senior Producer for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. He has worked in film and television as a writer, producer, director and editor on everything from hard-nosed documentaries to some of our most esteemed celebrity reality shows. He is the Executive Producer of Comedy Central’s DL Hughley: The Endangered List, which was honored with a 2013 Peabody Award. But his most precious honor was being named one of Huffington Post’s “18 Bearded Guys You Should Be Following on Twitter.”

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