" produced my most resonant tone: “Boarrrrr’s Head Turkey.” “OK, do it again.” A little more gusto this time. “Booooarrrrrrr’s Head Turkey!” “Again.” Maybe I wasn’t accentuating the right syllable. “Booooar’s Head TUR-key!” “Again.” “BoaRRRRR’s Head Tur-KEY.” “Again.” “BOOOOOARS Head Turrrrr-key.” “Again.” “Boarrr’s HEAD Tur-KEYYYY.” “Again.” I was stuck in a sadistic loop with this fucker. He knew I’d never get the part, but he was making me repeat this damn line over and over. I couldn’t think of any new ways to say it! I was barely intelligible at this point. It was like that scene at the end of The Miracle Worker when Anne Bancroft gets Patty Duke to say “water” but it sounds like “wwwaaaaaauuhh-waaaahhhhwuh.” I refused to be the first to quit. “BWOOORRRS HEHD TUH-TUH.” “Again.” “TURRRRRRRR GA-BWAW BWAH.” “Again.” “BUHHHH HUH TURRRR TURRRR.” “Again.” A knock at the door. His assistant, asking if he was ready for the next auditioner. “Yes, send him in. Thank you Mister . . . Kelly.” “You are . . . welcome.” I waited years for that commercial to make "

― , I Hate Everyone, Except You