On the Luxury Level of the Supersonic Airship Unsplodable, two
flight attendants wheeled a large aluminum box onto the stage area,
where the VIP passengers were jeering and booing the lack of
entertainment. "Ladies and gentlemen, during the extended intermission
of Samuel L. Jackson's one-man show, by popular request, we invite you
to enjoy the comedy styling of..."

They flipped open the latches and the box opened, disgorging
fifteen pounds of Styrofoam peanuts and a thin man with dark brown
hair.

"...Dane Cook!"

"Who?" asked Dick Cheney.

"I'm the poor man's Adam Sandler," explained Dane, "but with even
less talent."

Dick Cheney jumped forward and punched Dane Cook in the stomach.
"Sorry," he said, as if startled by his own actions. "It's a reflex
whenever somebody mentions Adam Sandler. I just can't control myself."

Dane groaned and struggled back to his feet. "That's okay. I get
that a lot. Especially when I remind people that I was in 'Mystery
Men'."