Spike Lee

Lee: Where's Larry? Oh yeah the egg!

an hour later Spike has built a giant paper mache egg and Larry hatches out of it covered in mucous.

King: I am the king!

Lee: I'm Bruce Lee's son.

King: That must've been hard. Growing up in that guys shadow, tell me was he always dead?

Lee: No, actually he wasn't dead until he died a few years ago.

King: But you knew death was coming after all those years of him being dead.

Lee: I was just kid, Larry but the effect was just as tramatic even more so if you consider the fact that I had to attend his drastic funeral.

King: And what was so drastic about this "funeral" as you call it?

Lee: You see we're very firm beleivers in Handrolican ways, pioneered by John Chang and they say that when somebody dies his body is to be packed with dynamite and blown up and how many peaces of flaming corpse the dead man's kids catch is how years they'll outlive him by.

King: Very fascinating but somebody doesn't have to be dead to blow them up.

Lee: By all means no.