Spencer (“I’m a Prat”) Pratt went on Letterman two weeks ago to proudly exclaim that he will not attend a nightclub anymore unless they pay him an appearance fee of $100,000.  Inquiries made soon after revealed that the truth to this statement lies somewhere in the middle, with certain Vegas hot-spots stating they would pay him well over his $100,000 fee to “stay away!” “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead” said one club owner on the strip, “But this guy is just a world class asshole, I would rather have the ‘Westside Rentals guy’ handing out flyer’s to my place, than that thick-headed barrel-of-puke’ having any association with my joint”. 

“I’m convinced [Pratt] he’s suffering from some form of mental illness” said another owner. “Have you seen the shape of his head? Living proof that man has descended from primates” added another proprietor.  “Has anyone ever measure his eyebrows to his hairline, the guy looks like someone put the bottom half of his face in a vice. His forehead looks like you could play an NBA finals on it.”  Another said: “He looks like Exeter from ‘This Island Earth’.”

One club owner in LA, who had reportedly paid the appearance fee, refused to comment in detail, only to say that: “it is ludicrous to suggest is was anywhere near the $100,000 that he reports. Hell, we don’t have money for things like that, we’re just a low-rent strip-joint near the airport, the only reason I paid him anything was the fact that his Mom use to work here”.

But the club owner’s accountant did send a follow-up email to us just before press time, clarifying the point that “yes Mr. Pratt was indeed paid an appearance fee, which constituted a couple of free drink cards in the amount of $200.”

The email went on to say that: “unfortunately Mr. Prat did not finish the entire amount allotted to him as he was removed by security soon after he passed out.”

The barman who served Mr. Pratt was contacted and had this to say.  “He asked me for something that would ‘just blow my mind’”. Since management had coughed up for this little dweeb, and was a last minute replacement for us after Don Knotts had cancelled, I thought I’d better start him off slowly.  I poured him a non-alcoholic ‘Shirley Temple’. Of course, he had no idea what it was, and soon started swaying and loudly exclaiming to everyone who would listen ‘how wasted he was!’ shortly after, he passed out.” said the barman.

What can one say?  Other than offer this disclaimer: