Many summers ago, representatives from each of the fifty United States gathered in Washington D.C. to decide once and for all upon their official state nicknames, which for too long had been a source of confusion and discord.

This is the hitherto-unreleased transcript of what transpired on that sweltering July afternoon.

Washington D.C.: Alright, we all know why we’re here, so let’s not waste any more time than we need to. Now we agreed we’d start in alphabetical order, so—
Delaware: First State
Washington D.C.: What?
Delaware: First State, I’m the first state, let’s get that out of the way.
Washington D.C.: Okay, this isn’t a Youtube comments section, nobody cares about that, and you need to wait your turn.
Connecticut: Besides, you’re still clinging to that? It’s been hundreds of years, Delaware, find a new accomplishment to tout.
Delaware: Oh, and what’s your nickname going to be, if it’s so great and novel?
Connecticut: The Constitution State
(Long pause.)
D.C.: Alright, just going to ignore that hypocrisy, I guess. Now then, I suppose we’ll just go around the room. You there, Nevada, do you know what you’re going to go with?
Nevada: The Silver State!
D.C.: Great! And what about you, California?
California: Ahem: The Golden State.
Nevada: Aww, dick move, man.
(Utah frantically crosses out “The Bronze State” from its notes.)
D.C.: Leave it alone, Nevada, we’ve still got a long way to go. Iowa, you’re next.
Iowa: The Hawkeye State
D.C.: You’re naming yourself after the least interesting Avengers character?
Iowa: Marvel promised us royalties, and corn-money can only get you so far on its own.
Tennessee: We call The Iron Man State!
Iowa: Aww come on, that’s no fair.
D.C.: No can do, Tennessee.
Tennessee: Fine. What about The-Only-Ten-I-See State?
D.C.: I’m going to write down The Volunteer State, and we’ll just try that for a while.
Arkansas: We’d like to be The Natural State.
Florida: (freshly botoxed) And what is that supposed to mean?
Indiana: Ooh, somebody is throwing shade.
D.C.: Indiana, stop causing trouble and pick a nickname.
Indiana: The Hoosier State is fine.
D.C.: What’s a Hoosier?
Oklahoma: We’ll be The Sooner State.
D.C.: What’s a Sooner?
Nebraska: The Cornhusker State.
Texas: The Aggie State, please.
D.C.: Damn it, no! No more college mascots. Texas, choose a real nickname.
Texas: What about The Lone Star State?
Mississippi: I thought all the Jews were in Florida though.
Florida: And what is that supposed to mean?!
Indiana: Oh-ho, and yet more shade!
D.C.: Indiana, I swear to God if I have to tell you one more time to leave Florida alone.
Alabama: Hey, that’s a great idea! We call The God State.
D.C.: No.
Alabama: The Church And State?
D.C.: Clever, but no.
North Dakota: (muttering beneath its breath) How about the State of Disrepair?
D.C.: Alabama, we’ll come back to you later, maybe after you’ve taken a basic Civics lesson.
New Jersey: We would like to be The Garden State.
D.C.: Whatever, sounds fine to me.
North Dakota: We would like to be The Peace Garden State.
New Jersey: Are you serious?
Nevada: See, it’s not fun being one-upped, is it?
D.C.: New Hampshire, what’s wrong with you. I let you get away with “Live Free or Die” on your license plates. Aren’t you being a little bellicose?
D.C.: Speaking of New Hampshire, what about you, Vermont?
Vermont: (strums an open chord on the acoustic guitar) The folks of Vermont would be happy just being called Green Mountain State.
D.C.: You’re pushing that coffee brand pretty hard aren’t you?
West Virginia: West Virginia calls The Mountain State.
D.C.: Don’t tell me you’re—
West Virginia: We’re coming up with our own brand of coffee, yes.
Alaska: The Last Frontier.
D.C.: Isn’t that space?
Alaska: We are mostly space, that’s correct.
D.C.: At least you’re honest. Ohio?
Ohio: The Buckeye State.
D.C.: Whatever that is! Missouri?
Missouri: The Show Me State
D.C.: Show you what?
Missouri: (smiling perversely) Our “Buckeye”.
D.C.: (banging gavel) Alright, we’re calling a recess.