Saladabod, Tomatostan – September 10, 2010.
…excerpts from the press conference:
Steve: “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I want you all to know how much I appreciate your braving those shark-infested waters just to participate in this historic event. I haven’t any prepared text, so let’s just get to the questions and answers. Oh, and would you please identify yourself and who you represent before asking your question!”
Reporter: “I’m Abdul Washandhem from the Somali Times. What is the official name of your new country?
Steve: “The Very Green Independent Republic of Tomatostan”.
Abdul Washandhem: “Can I ask a follow-up question?”
Steve: “Sure!
Abdul Washandhem: “Why did you pick that name?”
Steve: “Well, as you can see, this place is pretty green. Since I already have a basket of tomatoes and it looks like tomatoes will be our biggest crop, it seemed like a good commercial gimmick to name the place after our largest industry. I’m open to change though…if a company want’s to name their own country for a fee…I’m all ears”
Reporter: “My name is Linguini Alfredo from the Sicilian Pasta Platter. Aren’t you afraid of your warring neighbors.”
Steve: “Not in the least. As soon as I get a diplomatic mission established, I plan to reach out to both countries to normalize relations.”
Linguini: “Aren’t you concerned about being caught in the middle of a nuclear confrontation?”
Steve: “Actually, quite the opposite is true. My scientists tell me that irradiated tomatoes grow larger, faster and juicier than those “hothouse gassers” they pass off as tomatoes in the supermarkets in the winter. I’m counting on Armageddon to jumpstart this economy.”
Linguini: “You have scientists?”
Steve: “Uh…Er…Um…actually, no! But I did watch “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes” once and that’s how they super-sized their tomatoes. I figured the same concept would work here to. Okay, let’s move on to another reporter. You there, the guy in the back with the mangled leg and the shark’s tooth in your butt…”
Reporter: “Do you have a doctor around here?”
Steve: “You didn’t identify yourself.”
Reporter: “Awwwwwl. I’m sorry, it’s just that my legs hurts really bad.”
Steve: “I can see that. What’s your name buddy?”
Reporter: “Sven…from the Norwegian Nomad.”
Steve: “Well, do you have a question or are you just going to lay there and bleed all over my pristine beach?”
Sven: “Is there a doctor around…”
Steve: “Excuse me. What did you say?”
Linguini: “I think he just died.”
Steve: “Oh darn! The Republic’s barely 24 hours old and already we’re experiencing high mortality rates.”
Abdul Washandhem: “What do you planning to do about it?”
Steve: “Well, the first thing we gotta do is clean up the beach. You can’t attract tourists if the beach isn’t clear. Why don’t you guys drag him out into the ocean? [pointing to sharks] We’ve got a disposal system already in place.”
Linguini: “What about health care?”
Steve: “As soon as we export our first crate of tomatoes, will be building a health clinic and there will be free health care for everybody.”
Linguini: “How many citizens does Tomatostan have?
Steve: “Well, just one at the moment, but we’re accepting female immigrants- preferably good looking ones.
Reporter: “I’m Obee-One, from Niroabi.”
Steve: “Glad to meet you Obee-One. How’s Yoda? [chuckle] Sorry, I’ll bet you hear that all the time. What’s your question?
Obee-One: “Do you miss the United States?”
Steve: “Well, yeah. I miss my wife—[waving to camera] Hi Honey! Just kidding about the female immigrants. [returns gaze to reporter] I miss my kids. I miss McDonald’s cheeseburgers.
Obee-One: “You don’t have a McDonald’s?”
Steve: “Well…er…no! I didn’t want to upset my Hindu neighbors by importing beef.”
Obee-One: “Have you tried to make contact with the United States Government?”
Steve: “Hey, I’m glad you asked that. I should have mentioned at the beginning that I am hereby appointing my good buddy, Hank, as The Very Green Independent Republic of Tomatostan’s very first Ambassador to the United States of America.”
Linguini: [interrupting] “Isn’t he the guy who sold you out to the ‘feds’ in the first place?”
Steve: [chuckling] “Actually, we planned it to fool the F.B.I. I’m better at growing tomatoes than Hank and so we arranged to switch places.”
Linguini: “So you’re saying it was all a charade?”
Steve: “Hey buddy, I’ll let you in on a dirty little secret. 99% of all politics is dirty. The other 1% is dumb luck…kinda like when that shark bit Sven’s leg and not yours.”
Abdul Washandhem: “What exactly do you expect Hank to do as this nation’s first Ambassador?”
Steve: “Well, I would hope he’d throw a nice little fundraiser and invite me. Plus, I’ll expect that he’s arranging some foreign aid from the U.S. I’m sure Uncle Sam has some strategic interest over here worth protecting.”
Abdul Washandhem: “Like what?”
Steve: “Irradiated tomatoes. I don’t know. That’s why I appointed an ambassador. Ah…look at the time. We’ve got time for just one more question.”
Linguini: “Do you have other pressing business?”
Steve: “I sure do. It’s time to water the tomatoes.”
[whereupon the press conference ended as Steve hummed “Hail to the Chief” and retired to Saladabod.]
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