Best known for managing Shauna Cuntwell into oblivion, Bill took on new client, Geoff Whitewhore, offering him the rare chance to SOLO his own show, rather than simply play lead for aging and forgotten acts like Boko Haram and Elkie Seltzer.
Bill was in a partying mood when he watched the band finish setting up in Hairy Armpit, Norway. He wore his favorite hat. He had urged Whitewhore to call in all favors, and assemble a backing band, backing vocalists, and even somebody who might be able to play drums.
Geoff flashed the "victory" symbol, feeling that a last minute rush of ticket sales would fill the benches.
"IF I'M BEING HONEST," Hoobastank gurgled, "Geoff is a guy better heard and not seen. He makes ME look attractive. Or, to put it another way, he's the only celebrity I have NOT paid $20 to pose next to."
Reached for comment, The Commode Odor himself, CBE Gooker, merely giggled. In fact he giggled for a solid three and a half minutes, the approximate length of one of his singles that 'did not chart.' At last he admitted, "Look, with so much bad news lately, we all need a laugh. The idea of anyone paying to watch and listen to Whitewhore is hilarious!!"
A spindly, scrubby-faced Herbert in a beret smirked and said, "What he needed was an opening act like mine, The Pail Heads..."
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