It could've happened this way:

The morning after the Video Music Awards:

(Scene: a sleazy downtown Manhattan bar. TRENT REZNOR, BJORK, and all three BEASTIE BOYS are sitting around a beer-bottle-strewn table. They are all quite drunk.)

AD-ROCK: We wuz robbed!
MCA: Ripped off!
MIKE D: Fist-fucked!
REZNOR: (sharply) Hey, keep my private life outta this!

(Bjork belches and unleashes a string of curses in her native Icelandic.)

MCA: Seriously, Trent. We all had probably the three most innovative videos of the year....
REZNOR: "Innovative" my ass. All you guys did was run around L.A. pretending to be Starsky and Hutch!
MCA: (ignoring him) The point is, look what we lost to! Five dinosaurs and a bimbo....
BJORK: Wasn't that a Tom Selleck movie?
MIKE D: Not even close, doll. (Cracks open another beer and passes it to her.)

MCA: ...and a goddamned traffic jam.
REZNOR: You know, I could do a pretty mean version of "Cars..."
AD-ROCK: Whatever. The point is, these VMAs have gotten almost as predictable as the friggin' Oscars. I mean, look at poor Bjork, for example. The moment I saw that Janet Jackson was also up for "Best Female Performance," I knew Miss Eskimo Pie here didn't have squat of a chance.
BJORK: Hmph. Janet Jackson. Like to see her floating in cold water while they set up the shot....

REZNOR: Thought you people liked the cold.
BJORK: I'm from Iceland, not the fucking North Pole! (Swigs her beer) And crawling through that tall grass -- God, my sinuses ached for a week!
REZNOR: Big deal. I don't see anyone else scouring the country for sixty-year-old film stock.
AD-ROCK: Is that why it looked yellow? I thought it was 'cuz that dog of yours had pissed on the film canisters.

(Reznor bounces a beer bottle off Ad-Rock's head.)

AD-ROCK: Good! Let's use that anger. (To MCA and Mike) We'll take out Aerosmith, Bjork here can target Ms. Janet...
BJORK: Be a pleasure!
AD-ROCK: ...and Trent, dat ol' devil, can go down to Georgia and terminate R.E.M.
REZNOR: Uh, no go on R.E.M., man. Tori's tight with Stipe, so he's off limits.
MIKE D: Speaking of which -- Trent, I think your ride's here.

(Tori Amos walks into the bar.)

TORI: C'mon, kiddo, time for sleepy-bye. (She helps Reznor to his feet) Got a nice warm cup of Bosco waiting for ya.
REZNOR: Bedtime story, too?
TORI: Of course.
REZNOR: "Venus In Furs"?
TORI: Whatever hangs you by the heels, lover.

(They leave the bar.)

-- robert payes