Filed under: Guys from "The Hills" | Tags: Brody Jenner, Heidi Montag, prat, Spencer Pratt, The Hills
PRAT, n. 2. Brit. slang. An idiot, a fool; an ineffectual or contemptible person.
Once upon a time, in a very small and very privileged part of California, where money grows on trees and no one ever has the same noses that they were born with, there lived a boy named Spencer.
Now, Spencer was a Pratt from a long line of Pratts, and what he wanted more than anything in the world was to be the Prattiest Pratt that had ever lived. He dreamed that someday there would be a great Pratt museum, and people who visited it would look up at his picture and say, “see that? That was Spencer, the greatest Pratt of all.”
So he asked his Daddy, who was a “dentist to the stars!” and always gave him everything he wanted, how he could get the title of biggest Pratt. Could they buy it? Could they blackmail someone for it? Or could he just go over to England and steal it from some unsuspecting British person? And his father, who was too busy designing dentures for Amy Winehouse to care about any of Spencer’s big ideas, said “son, I told you never to speak to me directly. What do you think I have a secretary for? Just take this and get out” and threw a pile of money at him.
Spencer was indignant. He would show his Dad, and his Mom, and his sister, and the tutor he paid to do his schoolwork for him, and his Dad’s mistress, and his Mom’s tennis instructor/lover, and everyone in the world what an exceptional Pratt he could be. This was America. All dreams were possible. So he filled a garbage bag with cash, threw some of his designer clothes in the backseat of his Jaguar, stuck his friend Brody in the trunk, and set off for Hollywood.
When they got to Tinseltown, Spencer said to Brody, I am going to be your manager, as I’ve heard that some managers here are real Pratts. But because you have no talent, you’re going to have to date your way to success. So he told Brody who he should go out with: some really hot B-list babes who would look good in paparazzi pictures, but who were barely literate so they wouldn’t say much. Spencer said, “You’re gonna start dating Nicole Richie. And you’re gonna get that skinny b*tch to eat, all right? You are about to become The Guy Who Got Nicole Richie to Eat. Process that sh*t, bro. You’ll be, like, a f***ing hero to America.” (Actual quote from Details magazine, June 2008.)
Well, Brody couldn’t get Nicole to eat, so he didn’t become a great American hero. So Spencer decided they would need more publicity. And then he saw this show featuring lots of hot single women called The Hills, and he decided that they would find a way to become a part of the cast (because any Pratt can be on a reality television show, right?) So Spencer started to date this girl named Heidi, and then he almost got her pregnant, and then he cheated on her, and then he got her back. (He was sooo good at being a Pratt, he hoped his parents were watching.) And he got Brody to date this girl named Lauren, but apparently Lauren spoke in complete sentences, so Brody lost interest pretty fast.
But Spencer decided that doing all those things to Heidi just wasn’t enough. In order to be the best Pratt he could be, he’d need to do something more drastic. What if he took Heidi away from her best friend Lauren? Or just isolated her from all of her friends? And so he did. And he laughed about it. Life was good.
It was so much fun manipulating people, in fact, that he decided that he wanted Lauren and Heidi to be enemies. So he spread a rumor that Lauren, who everyone thought was a good girl, had a sex tape with her trainwreck ex-boyfriend. And Spencer said mean things about her anatomy that made everyone laugh. And when his friend Brody broke up with him about it, he didn’t care. He was invincible.
Being a Pratt is awesome, he thought. He decided to make being a Pratt his profession. So he spent his days in his condo, sleeping late, hiring graffiti artists to paint the walls, eating take-out, installing giant video game machines in the dining room, and dreaming up a cunning master plan to achieve world domination. So he bought Heidi some fake boobies and a new nose for her birthday, and decided, she’s hot enough to be a singer! So they made a music video together, and he thought it was great, because only a talented Pratt could accomplish videography like this (footage courtesy of BestWeekEver.tv):
Yes, Heidi would be his ticket to the next level. And he wanted her all to himself. So he proposed to her with a fake diamond ring, and when she kicked him out because he didn’t want a big church wedding, he stalked her until she took him back. Then he estranged her from her family by completely offending her mom and her stepdad. And when Heidi’s sister came to live with them, he complained about her tampons and her stuff taking up too much space in the condo and had her thrown out. And when his own sister, Stephanie, tried to befriend them, and wouldn’t pledge him absolute loyalty and devotion, he decided there was only room enough for one Pratt in his world, and he gave her the cold shoulder. (His sister was just too minor league for the Pratt empire, anyway, with only some shoplifting charges and a possible drug possession offense under her belt.) Finally, he even got Heidi fired from her pretend job by getting her drunk while she was working—so now she could be under his watch 24/7. It was a triumph.
One night, as Spencer settled in to admire his collection of man-jewelry and peruse the hate mail on his MySpace page, he paused a moment to consider how lucky he was. Heidi was under his thumb; his collection of white boy hip-hop bling was unparalleled; he had grown some fierce flesh-colored stubble (you could almost call it a beard!); and best of all, he was reviled across the nation. Could his satisfaction be more complete? As he flipped on the TV and started watching David Letterman, he found out. Letterman was talking to Spencer’s sworn enemy, Lauren Conrad. And Letterman was talking about him. Letterman said, “Spencer, what a weasel. He’s just the worst, that guy.”
Spencer leaned back on his leather shiatsu massage chair to consider these words, put his hands behind his head. And he smiled. God was in his heaven, and all was right with the world, Spencer thought. He was a Pratt. And the whole world knew it.
Maybe he would go out and get himself some custom gold teeth grillz to celebrate. With diamonds. Because he’d really look like a Pratt in those.
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