Who is the greatest terrorist of our time? Barbara Fawking Walters!
Okay, so maybe she isn’t parking vanloads of fertilizer in front of the mayor’s office; but at the very least she’s an emotional terrorist! See, the worst thing about being a celebrity isn’t freaking out on coke or wrapping your Ferrari around a telephone pole (that’s the best part!). It’s the humiliation that occurs afterward, when you’re lured into Barbara’s chair, forced to boo-hoo-hoo in front of a national audience, and then apologize for the crime of being a celebrity. It’s sick, I tell you!
And who’s the next recipient of Barbara’s wrath? Poor Mariah Carey (interview airing Wednesday, September 12 on ABC’s 20/20). You’ve no doubt heard tell of the squeaking siren’s recent psychological problems, wherein she started hurling dishes around her house, and her subsequent trip to the funny farm. Again–where’s the crime?? Mariah’s only crime is her videos, when she wears those horrid wet-naps on her nipples! Anyway, that’s no reason for her to have to relive her psychological trauma for the amusement of Barbara Walters! It’s monstrous, I tell you!
“Hold on there, Wm.™ Steven Hump-Me!” I hear you cry. “Why do you give a flying handshake about who Barbara Walters humiliates?” Well, I’ll tell you! Because once? It was MY sweetly plump honey-baked ham in Walters’ chair, AND IT WASN’T PRETTY! Here, for the first time, is the unaired and uncensored transcript of that interview–AND IF YOU WANNA SUE ME, WALTERS, BRING IT ON! (Just don’t forget the body bags. Your legal staff will need ’em!)
THE BARBARA WALTERS INTERVIEW
Babs: Wm. Steven Humphwey.
Hump: Yes.
Babs: You are successful. You wite a TV column. But you make the funny
jokes, because you are howibly depwessed.
Hump: Mmm… yes, yes, yes… no.
Babs: You are tewibly sad. The focus of your column often centuhs on “diapuh gwavy.” Is it because as a baby, you nevuh weceived the love you desiuhed?
Hump: What?!? “Diaper gravy”? That’s not even my joke. I stole that one!
Babs: Why do you steal? Is it because you are vewy sad?
Hump: ALL RIGHT! That’s it! Look, you old bag of wet laundry. You just want me to cry don’t you? You want me to blubber like a big tubby baby, so you can brag to all your friends, “Oooooh! I made Wm. Steven Hump-Me boo-hoo, just like I did to that bitch Carrie Fisher.”
Babs: I am NOT an old wet bag of laundwy!
Hump: You sure smell like one! You are an OLD, MOLDY, STINKING bag
of wet laundry–with a SPEECH IMPEDIMENT!
Babs: Stop it! That’s not vewy funny!
Hump: Awwwww! What are ya gonna do, laundry bag? Cry like a little baby? Well, go on, baby! CRY. CRY, BABY, CRY!!
At this point, Babs stopped the interview, and weirdly enough, I haven’t been invited back.
But anyway, if Mariah is smart, she’ll bring me along to help her out. And I promise! I won’t say a word. I’ll just stand behind her, rubbing my eye with my fist while dangling a laundry bag. What’s Babs gonna do? CRY??