Yesterday, United States President Barack Obama welcomed the US Olympic Snowboarding Team to his home. The job of translating bro talk, navigating cultural differences and documenting the event was given to Yobeat. Out of respect for this historic moment Yobeat has decided to publish our account almost completely unedited. Any and all editing was strictly saved for increased readability and information facilitation.
After arriving in Washington D.C. the group headed to President Obama’s home. A brief security check awaited us. Once cleared of bombs, guns, anthrax, knives, bombs again and finally any bottled liquid or gel containing more than 3.4 ounces we were given a green light to proceed. Once past White House security eight Olympic snowboarders were ushered past a small army of well dressed heavily armed men. Scotty Lago liked their weapons–fully automatic machine guns and pistols of a high enough caliber to cave your chest in. Nate Holland, who wore a superman suit, took this opportunity to be a jackass, “You call that a gun?” The group winced, hoping the cyborg-esque man before us had not noticed. He had, “I will end you.”
While waiting for the arrival of a ninth Olympian we were given a tour. Elena Hight loved the tapestry of the dining hall, but kept her head down after being scolded for touching. Kelly Clark was also given a warning after blowing her nose into Eleanor Roosevelt’s handcrafted table cloth. This led to a heavier surveillance for the remainder of the tour. The next 23 minutes were painfully quiet, the only sounds coming from the clicking and clanking of Louie Vito’s chains.
Our first peak of the President came when he came through the front door, “Goodbye Michael Jordan, Lebron James and Jesus.” The President, dripping with sweat and in athletic apparel, was caught off guard by our presence, “Hello, who are you people?” Nate Holland opened his mouth but was quickly throat punched by the Secret Service officer he had previously insulted. Louie Vito spoke, “Obama, we are the Olympic Snowboarding Team. We are supposed to meet you today.” The President eyed a guard, “Do not call me Obama. Now, I just finished a game of hoops, excuse me.” Everyone stood awkwardly except for Nate Holland, he was unconscious.
Nate Holland really wants to be the fastest boarder on earth.
A well dressed, freshly showered President returned moments later. With the help of 37 aides we were given a serious once over. “I was not aware you would all be here. I only wanted the Flying Potato. Where is he?” Silence ensued. “Fine, to the Oval Office.” Lindsey Jacobellis took off running for the door, and the group pursued. Lindsey fell just before the door. The rest of the group past her as she lay crying in the hallway.
Things began to relax inside the Oval Office. Much of the group stared at historic relics, photographs and books while the President searched through a trunk. “So, what do you guys think, of my new Health Care bill?” Everyone agreed it was good, except Nate Holland. “That Shi…” came out of his mouth, and again he was knocked unconscious. The cyborg-esque man almost grinned. The President turned to face us, having found what he was looking for, “Now, does anyone want to play dominos, while we wait for the Potato?” Louie Vito looked up excitedly and backflipped off the couch, “Obamms’ I got you on dominos.” “Do not call me Obamms’.” “Sorry.”
Domino’s were played. Louie Vito was the Presidents only competition. “You have some skills, but can you land a backflip off my desk?” In less than a second Louie was standing on the leader of the free world’s desk, “Check it out Barack!” “Do not call me Barack.” Then Louie flung his head back and leapt. “Wow, incredible, what do you call that?” “Double Cork 1260.” “I have a trick of my own.” “Do it O-man!” “Do not call me O-man, and DOMINOS MOTHER FUCKER!”
Walkie-Talkies began to make noise. “Code Pink, second story kitchen counter.” Three men, guns in hand, sprinted out of the room. I realized Scotty Lago was no longer with the group. “My main man O, what’s a Code Pink.” “Do not call me your main man O.” The President looked to his aide, “When will the Potato be here.” Running could be heard upstairs. And then downstairs. And then in what sounded like the wall until a trap door burst open. Scotty Lago had rejoined the group. Resting against the trap door he caught his breath, “Oh hey guys. Great secret tunnels Mr. President, what’s everyone doing?” The President looked sternly in Scotty’s direction, “Code Pink?” Scotty made the “not me” face. The President winked at Scotty, “Call off the Code Pink.” The Oval Office was then bombarded by men, each with an orange wrist band. Four men in suits followed, single file, through the front door while three others, dressed for urban combat crashed through the windows. Aides shrieked, the Secret Service had been disarmed and the President pounded down on his desk, “What the fuck! Michelle will kill me over those windows. Who are you people? Do you have the Potato?” A man, followed by three more men, answered, “Calm down Mr. President, we are Shaun’s people, this is a simple security sweep ensuring Shaun’s safety.” “Oh, well fine, sweep away, and where did you get your guys?”
Scotty Lago and a maid running from well dressed men with guns.
“All clear.” Boom! The door flew open, a red carpet rolled in through the open doorway, a constant flashing bulb sent Nate Holland into a seizure while Led Zeppelin deafened the rest of us. A blur of red slid through the smoke and down the red carpet. After a moment of air guitar Shaun White stood up, “Obama my man! Sorry I was late. Got hung up in Europe ‘cuz of that volcano thang. All good though. My old pal Richard Branson hooked up a space flight and we just skipped the pond man.” The music began to fade as the fog cleared. The red carpet and Shaun’s people had vanished, also; the windows were fixed.
“So B-man, I caught up with Jesus and Jordan at SuperStarbucks. They say you schooled ‘em, nice work.” The slap of a high-five could almost be heard, but ears were still ringing. Their conversation continued. The rest of us regained our balance, and began to take our seats. Tension in the room was growing. Kelly Clark was visibly upset, “I have Gold medals too! Why is Shaun so special?” Greg Bretz spoke up, “What? You’re not Ross Powers or Gian Simmen.” Vito fell over in laughter. Gretchen whispered to Greg, “That’s Kelly Clark, she’s a chick.” “No fucking way.”
Hate Shaun White all you want. He’s still having more fun that you’ll ever have.
Joe Biden and some other politicians entered the room. “B-man, we heard the Potato is here!” “Joe, I’m sorry, Shaun has not arrived yet.” “Shit really? We just bailed on Congress for this.” “Gotcha!” Shaun pops up from behind the desk, “Biden, other old white dudes! What’s good bros?” More talking ensues, and everyone sits down. I hear the President mention Code Pink. A roar of laughter and high-fives ensue, and Scotty is asked to join Shaun and our leaders. I take a pee.
The soap made my hands smell funny, and there was a condom in the waste basket. I find the wrapper, it’s a Scotty Lago edition, made by Rockstar Energy Drink. I leave the bathroom.
Vito had now joined the popular table. Nate Holland’s blood began to boil, “I’m the fastest ripper in the world. How could they not wanna’ hang with me! Fuck it, I’m going over. Yo dudes, did I ever tell you about the time I was going really fast?” Something wizzed by my face. Nate, having only taken two steps, hit the ground face first. A small dart was protruding from his neck. The President looked at an air duct, “Thanks Tom.” Nate was dragged off, not to be seen again.
The rest of us sat in relative silence. Elena had fallen asleep. Lindsey tended to her wounds. Rug burn. Earlier, she had tried to show off like Shaun, but her showboating ended in pain. Greg sat in disbelief, still starring wide eyed, directly at Kelly. An aide walked over, “Hi guys. So we need to wrap this up, but as a token of the President’s appreciation for representing our country in the 2010 Winter Olympic Games we are presenting you with not only these coupons for half off your cab fare, but these buy-one get-one passes to ESPN Zone, located just downtown.” The group looked astonished. Greg scooped up his prize, “Fuck yeah ESPN Zone, let’s do this!” I looked at the woman, “Media, can’t leave, have to observe, sorry.” “Oh, are you a new aide?” “No.” “With CNN?” “No.” “You’re with who exactly?” “Yobeat. I’m here to observe, translate and educate.” “I’ve never heard of Yobeat.” “You’re not alone.” And with that I was allowed to stay.
Meeting the President is a big deal. Gretchen did all she could to impress.
I sat back, listening for quotes, “So Louie, let’s see your medal.” “Oh, I actually came in 5th place but.” “Get the fuck out.” Mid-sentence Biden had cut Vito off, I did not see Vito again. I kept listening. “So, Code Pink huh? That’s great work Scotty. Brings me back to the ‘90s with Wild Bill.” A tap on the door interrupted the flow of conversation. Gretchen Bleiler entered the room. The Vice President stood up, “Look, we’re really sorry but Shaun told us girl snowboarding didn’t matter, and this is kinda like man time.” Gretchen slipped off her coat. Biden’s jaw dropped,“But you know what, this country needs change, and it deserves change, so by god, let’s work together and hang up that coat.” Gretchen was back, but with no available chairs she was forced to stand. She stood there indefinitely, silent and awkward. She had become political eye candy, and the boys club carried on.
The President stood up, “Well fellow Americans, how do we feel about dinner?” Shaun whipped out his Blacker Than Black card, winked and whispered in the ear of an assistant. I have no idea where she came from. A moment later the chandelier began to rattle. “So hey, my boys Richard Branson and Steve Jobs are hovering outside in Rich’s new fighter jet. How about we pile in and grab some grub in China? I know this great place.” Biden interrupts, “The place with the tigers?” “You’ve been? Awesome! So you in?” Scotty scratches his head. I read his lips, “What the fuck?” The President stood up, “Shaun White, I don’t really like China, but I’ll make an exception for you.” The group headed towards the hallway. The President wrapped his arm around Shaun, “So Shaun White, why do they call you the Potato?”
As the chandelier shook for a second time an aide entered the room, “Do you need anything else? The President has instructed me to help you in any way that I can.”Â I asked if Yobeat could have a bailout package. She starred back blankly. “I’m ready for my coupon to ESPN Zone now.” As I looked around the Oval Office for a final time two men entered. They picked up Gretchen. She had a dart in her neck.
https://yobeat.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/white_article.jpg292525Nick Liptonhttp://yobeat.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/yobeatdotcomsite.jpgNick Lipton2010-04-22 15:28:502010-04-22 15:30:55Olympic Snowboarders Visit the President