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WHY GAVIN POLONE REALLY LEFT UTA
prank calls and cold-blooded phone revenge
by
Horton Lazario
It was time for another series of prank calls to my good friends over at the United
Talent Agency, otherwise known as UTA. Gavin Polone, an agent and
partner, had not returned my calls so naturally I figured a manners teaching
lesson was due. My buddy Aaron and I talked over the game plan; then I
called the main switchboard and asked for Polone’s office.
"Gavin Polone’s office," his assistant said.
"Yeah, Michael Eisner’s office calling for Gavin, is he in?" I
said in just the right bored, nonchalant tone to authenticate the call.
"Uh, hold on, I’ll get him -- he’s in a meeting – let me interrupt
him."
It took only a couple of seconds before Polone came on the line,
"Michael, hi, what’s up?"
"Like you don’t know you scumbag, you," I snarled.
There was a long pause, then, "Excuse me?"
"Or should I say… soon to be Mr. ex-fucking scumbag agent," I hissed.
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute..." he said.
"Don’t you ever interrupt me again you pathetic little piss ant, do
you know who you’re talking to here? Well do you?" I was beginning to
shout.
"Yes, Michael Eisner."
"Fucking-A right -- Now, knock it off all your bullshit!" I yelled
into the receiver.
"Knock what --" CLICK. I hung up on him. That's the secret of
good prank calls, you hang up on them and act like they are intruding on you.
Now before he could regroup I beat him to the punch and called Michael Eisner’s
office.
"Michael in? It’s Gavin Polone."
"He’s in a meeting. May I have him get back to you?" Eisner’s
very nice assistant said.
"Perhaps you can help me... some son of a bitch is impersonating me and
I have reason to believe he’ll be calling in a few minutes -- best thing to do
is just hang up on him. I think he might be dangerous," I added.
"Jesus... just what we need after this Katzenberg crap"
"Well, I just wanted to let you know. Michael doesn’t have to call me
back."
"Thanks, Gavin." Eisner’s assistant was nice.
We waited about five minutes then called Gavin Polone’s office again.
"Michael Eisner for Gavin," I said.
"Why’d you hang up on us? Why’d you say those things?" Polone’s
assistant was confused.
"It must have been some screw-up with the phones," I reassured him.
"Jesus, what’s going on over there? Gavin’s rip-shit, he’s ready
to tear me a new asshole." I felt sorry for him, but it couldn’t be
helped.
"Well, Michael will take his call now."
As soon as he put us on hold we conference called Steven Spielberg’s
office.
"Steven Spielberg’s office..." his assistant, Robert, answered.
"Please hold for Michael Eisner and Gavin Polone." I said.
"You’ve got to be kidding, what is this, a prank call?" he asked. Then he put us on hold.
Just then Gavin Polone picked up.
"Michael, what’s going on?" Polone said.
"I’m so sorry Gavin, that bastard Katzenberg has me crazy these days.
DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH MONEY $250,000,000 IS?" I yelled.
"It’s okay, I understand," Polone said, accepting my apology.
"You? You understand? You?" I questioned.
"Well yes, I think I do, sure." he was backpedaling.
"Well FUCK YOU! I don’t need you’re self righteous crummy
cocksucking pity -- I’ll run this studio myself if I have to!" I
screamed.
"Guys, guys, slow down, what’s going on?" It was Steven
Spielberg.
"Who’s that?" Polone questioned in a riled up, snotty tone.
"Well who’s this?" Spielberg shot back.
"It’s Gavin Polone, who’s this?" Polone quipped.
"It’s Steven..."
"Steven who?" Polone snapped.
"Spielberg..."
"Yeah right, and I’m Babe fuckin’ Ruth. Okay, I get it, Michael
Eisner, Steven Spielberg, this is a practical joke... very funny whoever you
are." Polone said.
"Hey, you called me," Spielberg reminded him.
"Oh, I did, did I?" Polone was getting pissed off now. "Okay,
well then... Steven, on behalf of the partners here at United Talent
Agency I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you to go fuck
yourself." I could hear Polone’s spit hitting the receiver he was
so pissed off.
There was a long awkward silence.
"Excuse me?" Spielberg finally said.
"You heard me, dip-shit, go fuck yourself," Polone repeated in
agent-like clarity.
"That’s what I thought you said... okay, have a nice day." Spielberg
hung up and we followed suit.
I instantly called Eisner’s office again. "Hi, it’s Robert over at
Dreamworks. Did a guy claiming to be Gavin Polone call you guys?" I asked.
"Oh yeah. He called impersonating Gavin Polone, but I just told him to
fuck off and hung up on him." he said.
"Well something’s going on, because the REAL Gavin Polone just called
here and cussed out Steven and he was screaming Michael’s name
too."
"How do you know it was the real Gavin Polone?" he asked.
This was a fair question I thought.
"We track all of our incoming calls by satellite and loop it through a
voice spectrometer. Then we run the voice signature through our in-house GPS
database. It was definitely Gavin Polone and he was calling from the 3rd
floor of the North East corner of UTA," I explained.
"Jesus," he said.
"ILM set it up for us," I explained further.
"Jesus..."
"Anyway, he was screaming something about ‘driving over to Burbank and
doing a flying death kick’ at Michael. I just thought you’d like to
know."
"Thanks," he said in a worried tone.
"Steven wants to be updated on this situation, can you call me back if
he calls you guys?" I was asking strictly out of professional courtesy.
"Sure, notta problem."
We hung up and I speed-dialed UTA.
"Gavin Polone’s office."
"Steven Spielberg’s office calling for Gavin," I said.
"Look, we’re not buying it, okay? Nice try," Gavin’s assistant
sang in a smug, fuck you tone.
"Fine. If you don’t believe me, call us back," I rattled off
Dreamworks number and hung up.
We took a coffee break and played back the tapes we had recorded of our
earlier conversations. Now it was Aaron’s turn. We called Spielberg’s office
first.
"Hi, it’s Jeremy Zimmer, who’s this please?" Aaron asked.
"Robert." Spielberg’s assistant said.
"Robert, Gavin Polone told me you guys won’t take his calls."
"That’s correct."
"Robert, we’ve got a big problem here and I’m trying to do a little
damage control."
"Okay," he said only half listening. We could hear him typing in
the background.
"Did Gavin contact you today?" Aaron asked.
"Oh, you bet."
"And I’m guessing.... what... there was a little problem?"
The typing stopped. "No, there was a really big problem."
"I see..." Aaron said.
"It just caught Steven off guard, he’s more amazed than anything
else," Robert reassured Aaron.
"Look, Robert, there was a grave misunderstanding. Gavin is mortified.
You see, he thought it was a prank phone call and well, that’s why he said the
things he did -- He’s afraid you guys are going to try to screw up his
career."
"We don’t do that here, we make movies," Robert said.
"Well, that’s good to know. But the point is... he’s really really
sorry."
"Okay, I’ll pass it on."
"Well, I was kinda wondering if we could just get Steven back on the
phone -- for just a second. Gavin would do anything to apologize. He’s sitting
right here in my office. It’s very embarrassing for him." Aaron sounded
just like a lawyer pleading a case.
"I don’t think that’d be --."
"C’mon, it’ll just take a few seconds then we can put this all
behind us."
"Well..." Robert was starting to buckle.
"C’mon -- two seconds," Aaron whined.
"Hold on, I’ll see if I can get his attention."
We held on for a good two or three minutes... finally.
"Hello?"
"Seven?" I asked.
"Yes," Spielberg said.
"It’s Gavin."
"Yes?"
"About all that stuff I said before...?"
Yes?" Spielberg waited.
"Well I just wanted you to know… I meant every FUCKING WORD OF IT! Oh
yeah, and I never thought for a minute E.T. could make a bicycle fly, you sick
little monkey!"
There was another long pause. I guess he wanted to make sure I was finished.
Then…
"Get some therapy --" CLICK, Steven hung up.
We immediately called Eisner’s office.
"Hello, it’s Gavin Polone, Steven Spielberg is a cruel unforgiving
bastard! He’s also a Fuck-Head"
"Look, whoever this is --"
"Oh, you don’t believe me? Call me back at UTA. Spielberg’s a
fuck-head – fuck -- head."
We hung-up. Then we called Polone’s office to get things going.
"Gavin Polone’s --"
"Shut your cakehole -- Listen, this is Michael Eisner’s office calling
and if your boss ever calls here again we’re gonna have a restraining order
put on his ass," I screamed into the receiver.
"Who the hell is this?"
"You know damn good and well who this is, bun boy."
"Fuck you -- don’t call here again!" Polone’s assistant
screamed a few more incoherent obscenities and then hung up
We waited a few minutes and called Eisner’s office again.
"Gavin Polone calling--"
"I said don’t call us again!" Eisner’s assistant screamed.
"Oh don’t worry - and while we’re on the subject, why don’t you
take those stupid fucking ears off your pinhead and shove them straight up your
mousy little poop-shoot!"
Then Aaron called Dreamworks. "Hi, it’s Jason over in Legal affairs
here at Paramount -- Uh, I just got this weird phone call."
"Let me guess, Gavin Polone, right?" Robert asked.
"Oh you know about this?"
"Uh - yeah, he called us earlier," Robert said.
"Well he just called here saying that he was now representing Steven Spielberg, and in the future he’d be making all career decisions for him,
because, and I’m only quoting him here okay? Remember, I'm
quoting... he said… because Steven Spielberg is a fuck-head."
"Yeah, he’s flipped out or else he’s on drugs or something -- I only
hope he jumps out his window and does us all a favor," Robert said.
We called Polone’s office again.
"Hi, it’s Army Archard calling Gavin," Aaron said.
"Hold please."
"Army?" Polone said, coming on the phone immediately.
"Hi Gavin, any truth to the rumor you’re calling everyone up and
telling them Steven Spielberg is a fuck-head?"
"What? What the? Who the hell is this?" he screamed.
"Army Archard," Aaron said.
"Sure." CLICK -- Polone was gone.
Then of course we called Army Archard at Variety. Archard always answers his
own phone.
"Hi, it’s Gavin Polone, I’ve got a hot scoop for you."
"What’s that Gavin?"
"Seven Spielberg’s a fuck-head!" I said.
"What’d you say?" Army asked, not really believing what he just
heard with his own ears.
"I said, Steven Spielberg is a FUCK-HEAD. I outta know, I’m
representing him now."
"Okay, fine." Army said, not believing a word of this.
"Army, I know what you’re thinking, but I have a very good reason for
doing this. Call me back at UTA to confirm this if you think this is a prank
call.
" I hung up.
* * * * * * *
About an hour later we called Polone again but his assistant said he had gone
into personal management and was no longer with UTA.
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