This morning I awoke to the sound of pounding on my front door. I dragged myself, clad in footie pajamas, to answer it. Seacrest was standing there with a creepy smile on his face.

"It's my birthday Seacrest! Go away!"

He didn't move.

"I told you never to wake me before noon!"

I yelled at him to leave several times but he didn't budge. He didn't look me up and down. He didn't make some crude comment or try to touch me inappropriately. It made me feel discarded. But still, he was standing on my doorstep and it made me angry. I roughly pushed the screen door open. He was standing close enough that it hit him. He still didn't budge. It wasn't until I stepped outside and shoved him that I realized it wasn't the real Seacrest. It was the wax statue that previously resided in Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum at the Venetian in Las Vegas.

I don't know why, but I dragged it inside the apartment. It was one of those unexplainable things, like how I secretly hope to someday drive past a real life hooker walking down the street.

I took out my Clay Aiken Fluid Flip-top lighter that I had bought on EBay. Just as I was melting the statue's hair, the phone rang. Picked it up, knowing it was Seacrest. "What?"

"So?"

"So what?"

"How do you like your birthday present?"

"I don't!"

"Sure you do."

"I don't want your dirty gift Seacrest!"

"That will sit at the top of the staircase in our very first home." He said proudly.

"We will never have a home."

"Of course we will. You can move in anytime you want."

"I don't wanna move in!"

"I can wait until you're ready."

"I don't want you Seacrest!"

He let out a sound like a wounded animal. "You'll never find someone who loves you like I do!"

"Bitch, please. Some of the world's finest lovers have fondled me in the backseat of their cars. Don't think you're the first."

"So you're saying I'm a fine lover?"

"Seacrest! I will smack your ass up and down the street!"

"Mmmmmm. Say that again. But this time take out 'the street' and change it to 'with soft oils and lotions'."

"You nasty little-"He interrupted me with a loud laugh.

"Look, Seacrest. I'm sure in some universe you are considered quite a good looking specimen, but in my universe, Aiken reigns king. And you, my friend, are merely a court jester."

"Does the court jester get to polish the fair maiden's chastity belt?"

"No!"

"Are you sure? Cause I think so."

"I want you to come pick up this statue."

"It's not a statue. It's a wax replica."

"Whatever it is, it's creeping me out. It's leering at me."

"I know. I had some alterations done."

"Seacrest. It is my birthday and I don't want something that resembles you in my home."

He was quiet for a minute and I thought he was going to cry. I almost felt bad until he opened his mouth.

"Call me Seacrest again."

I hung up on him and disconnected my phone.