Oprah: Sarah dear, what on earth were you thinking?
Fergie: Stand in line, Oprah. Go ahead and beat me up. I’ve been bagged by every journalist in the UK.
Oprah: And shagged by every sailor in Wales!
Fergie: Well, it takes a tart to know a tart… So what am I going to do now? My attorneys say I have to give back all the cash. That bloody bank transfer isn’t going to happen. I have to move out of Andrew’s house. And the only asset I have left is the ranch in Argen-freeking-tina. My sponsors have abandoned me as if I were a scandal slut like Tiger Woods.
Oprah: Not to worry, Sarah honey. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’ll come on my show all fat and depressed. Really pig out for a few weeks and let your skin go blotchy. We’ll get you on the show and, bang, start with your huge, teary mea culpa. We’ll grab the audience by the throat at the top of the show. So wear lots of mascara, Sarah. And practice crying on demand. Big boo-hoos.
Fergie: Lots of mascara and practice crying, right-o.
Oprah: After the first ad break, will replay your and Andrew’s Royal marriage and then show heaps of footage of you and Princess Diana. We’ll really play on the public’s love for Di, the skinny cow. I did NOT say that. After the second break we’ll talk about your dire finances, how your daughters are such good girls and they’re suffering so much. Boo hoo, more tears. More runny mascara. Think Tammy Faye Baker.
Fergie: After all those tears, I’ll be dehydrated. Can we drink champers during the show? That would be a big help.
Oprah: Nope, the FCC would have a cow. Besides, you need to be distraught, all pitiful and hugg-able, not a drunken sow. We’ll get sloshed after the show, don’t you worry about that.
Fergie: Oh, very well. But what about money? How much will this net me? We’re friends, Oprah, but this is business, and I’m really in the schtuck.
Oprah: Plenty. My people will work out the details. Let’s just worry about you being pathetic – tears and mascara and blotchy skin. My viewers will forgive anything if you are fat and have blotchy skin!
Fergie: In honesty, O, I still don’t see the big deal about selling an introduction to Andrew. I’ve been doing it for 20 years. I didn’t do anything vulgar, like outing Andrew as a poof. I’d never do that… Should I do that on your show? Out him? Would that rate? How much would that be worth?
Oprah: Let me think about that. We’d gain big in the 18-49 demographic. We’d pull a 5.9 or 6 and sucker punch Judge Judy! Cow. But the Queen would have our guts for garters. No, let’s not ‘out’ Andrew. But maybe in a few weeks he could come on my show and out himself. No THAT would rate! Sarah, how much would you need to arrange that with old Randy Andy?
Fergie: At least $50,000 in cash, and then a wire transfer of half a million, I mean a million. That’s sort of my going rate. And, O, you’ve got to promise that you won’t do any secret filming about the money, OK?
Oprah: Sarah dear, of course we’d never do that. So, I’ll see you next week. Eat a lot of chocolate and really blob out, sweetheart. You need to be Princess Pathetic. See you then. Mwah.
Oprah hangs up and calls in her assistant.
Oprah: Make sure the surveillance cameras in the green room are HDTV. No wait! Install the new 3-D gear. Just imagine Fergie and her briefcase full of cash in 3-D. Now that would blow Judge Judy right off her bench. Cow.
Click on ‘comments’ below and add your two cents!