Hey, what’s the deal with that quote-unquote truck you’re driving?

Do I know you?

Um, yeah, you should, if you’ve been living on a little place called PLANET EARTH. Howie Long: pro football hall of famer, sports analyst extraordinaire, and Chevy truck spokes-beast. I’m here to school you on that hunk of junk you call a truck. What kind of mileage you get in that thing?

I dunno, 19 mpg or so.

Oh, so you must have a V8 on it, right?

No, actually…

Hey, Einstein, I know that truck is only a V6, okay? What do you think, I just fell off the turnip truck? Grow a pair and get yourself the new Chevy Behemoth. It’s got enough torque to pull a sequoia stump out of solid concrete.

I don’t really need that much power. My truck works just fine for what I use it for.

Yeah, I guess I’d want a truck like yours, if I had A VAGINA. WHICH I
DON’T. How about the Chevy Labrea? This thing doesn’t have a
payload–it’s got a shitload. Plus, “Labrea” sounds a little like “Labia”, so you’d totally be into it.

Buddy, I’m not rich like you. I can’t buy a new truck every time some
douchebag ex-jock tries to challenge my manhood. So stop being such a
dick and leave me alone.

Speaking of dicks, nice “man-step” at the back of your truck. Did you
have to get it in black or were they out of pink at the dealership?


I got some serious back trouble, so I need that bar to get in and out of the back, you insensitive asshole.

You probably got your sciatica yappin’ with your girlfriends down at the beauty parlor.

Hey, you know what? You’ve convinced me. I’m gonna get a Chevy truck.

Alright, now you’re talking!

Yeah, and I’m gonna drive it downtown to get a ticket to Firestorm II, the sequel to that awesome movie you were in. That flick should be coming out any day now, right?

Hey, there were script problems from day one…

You’re right. I think you were better suited to musical productions, like that shit-tacular music video the Raiders did. Boy, you really lit up the screen in that one.

That’s not fair, man…

Or maybe I’ll just use it to drive home and watch my DVD of those god
awful Radio Shack commercials you used to make with Teri Hatcher, back
before she got her face pulled taut.

C’mon, man…

These Chevy trucks, do they have a lot room in the cab? I need to know
if I can fit a large person in here. Say, my teenage son I’ve just
bailed out for DUI. That sounds like something you’d have experience with.

You watch your mouth, buddy! What makes you think someone with a truck as crappy as yours can talk to me like that?

The same thing that makes you verbally assault random strangers in these horrible ads.

A sense of entitlement and residual roid rage?