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Fan Fiction: Will Ferrell and Vince Vaughn on the set of "Old School" by Will Ferrell 
Hi, this is Will Ferrell, former star of "Saturday Night Live" and current star of "Old School." What you're about to read is a day in my life as I prepare for a scene with my good buddy Vince Vaughn. ----------------------------------------- "All props, Ferrell nude scene #34-A, to the set immediately!" a random PA shouted through a megaphone. "Guess that's my cue!" I slapped Vince on the back and began unbuckling my belt. "Dude, you realize that everyone in America is going to see your penis?" Vince chortled. "Yeah... laugh it up... at least it's not a clown penis, like yours!" I retorted. "Yeah, but it's probably not as big as Shaq's penis, which he uses to satisfy Shaq's wife! And probably Kobe's wife too... ha ha!" This went on for about another five minutes as I disrobed and made my way to the set. I kept my muslim t-shirt on for warmth... the director likes to make sure he's got the shot right, and that can take some time. When I arrived, the speakers were blaring Mick Jagger's latest song. I HATE that song. "Todd!" I shouted. Todd is the director's name. "Todd, what are we, on the Sprite Liquid Mix tour? You know that I like to listen to Beck or Flaming Lips when I'm about to get naked!" "Aw, jeez, sorry Will. Sound man! Cue up some Fight Test Flaming Lips sounds, like, now!" Todd's the best. He even let me look at my Brittany Murphy picture so that I'd be, um, a little bit aroused for the scene. When the shot was over, I headed to my trailer to shower and get ready for an evening out on the town. I was actually considering a little topless boxing. A guy I know knows a place. But, to my surprise, Vince Vaughn, Pharrell Jones and Chrissie Canino were waiting in my trailer. "What the hell are you guys doing here!" I shouted, but with a smile on my face. "Aw, Willie. You haven't changed." Chrissie laughed. "Remember that Simpsons episode about moccasins? Gawd.. we laughed so hard. It was almost as funny as the Maid in Manhattan trailer!" Just then I remembered ... it's my birthday! So that's why all my old friends were coming out of the woodwork. Just then, Jamie Quin, Dan Fazio, Jason Sattler, Jamie Flam, Nelly Watson, Eric Steuer, Leonardo DiCaprio, Emily Padow, Jason Betrue and Rue McClanahan jumped out from behind the couch and shouted, "Surprise!" I know what you're thinking. That's a lot of people to fit behind just one couch. Well, it's a big couch. Needless to say, I was surprised. "You assholes!" I yelled. "Let's get this party started!" I slapped Vince on the back again. "You planned this whole thing, didn't you, dog!" "You know it, Big Willie Style!" he said. Three hours later, we were down at the Standard on the Sunset strip, and I had a crowd of about 20 people asking me to do my Bill Brasky character. So I popped a Peach Smint and busted out a hilarious improv riff about how Brasky once killed a male model wearing a tuxedo, and made a new tuxedo from his skin. Everyone was laughing except for V-squared. He actually was looking a little pale. I stepped out of the center of a attention for a moment and pulled him aside. "Dude, you feelin' all right?" "Oh... sheesh. Come on, this is Vinnie here! Of course I'm all right... just a few too many prairie fires..." he sputtered. "But Vince, we didn't order any prairie fires! What the hell have you been drinking?" "Oh.... shit.... hey, Will, buddy, what do you suppose 50 Cent's house looks like? I bet it's pretty phat..... anyway... how much money have you got two spin in Swahili?" "Dude, seriously. I have no idea what you're talking about." I was beginning to get nervous. Vince's eyes seemed about two times their normal size, and he was losing his balance. I grabbed his shoulders and started leading him to the bathroom, but he kept shouting. "Underwear Chris Kramer! Newsboy on corner, extra, extra! Mel Gibson cutout for sale! Newman, you magnificent bastard! Shakira loves the Osbournes! Ha ha ha ha .. ugh... PUKE!" Vince threw up all over my Z. Cavarichi loafers like we were in some sort of Popeye cartoon or something. I woke up the next day with quite a hangover, but I'm sure it was nothing compared to Vince's. We stuffed him in a cab and yelled, "834 Alpine Drive" at the cabbie, but Vince kept spouting gibberish like, "Crab centre universe legend," so we weren't sure if he would get home. When I finally made it to the set, Vince was already there. I approached him cautiously. "Hey, bro, you had quite a time last night, eh? You're my man." "Dude, I feel like Boozy the Clown. Did I do some really stupid shit last night or what?" "Nah, nothing too bad. I did get a voicemail from you this morning regarding a fantasy baseball dollar value generator and something about a Beck Wayne Coyne fight, but that's no biggie. And you did puke on my shoes, but at least my gucci knock off vest is intact." Right about then, the public address system began blaring the soundtrack from the movie "Ghandi," which always means that filming is about to commence. "Come on, old pal. Let's get you some Teen Wolf shades and maybe a little Trent Reznor fan fiction, and you should be ready for today's shots. Whaddaya say?" Vince looked up and gave me a bleary, but upbeat stare. Suddenly he flexed his bicep, revealing a new Thug Life tattoo. "Hells yeah, bro! Let's do it!" We exchanged a high five and walked arm in arm to the set. You know, sometimes, I think we've got it maid. *Keywords are words that people searched for that landed them at lunchboxing.com. 
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