Written by Judge Retort
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Saturday, 11 October 2008

image for Dr. Laura takes an unusual call... Dr. Laura Shredhercaller's infamous Red Phone reserved exclusively for Bill Clinton's women and Michael Jackson's catamites

"Bob! Welcome to the show!"

Silence.

"Bob! You're on, Bob!"

"Am I on?"

"Yes! Welcome to the show!"

"Is this Dr. Laura?"

"Yes."

"I'm not still on hold?"

"(sigh) No, Bob, you're live -- 20 million people are hearing you on their radios. What is your question for me?"

"Oh. Um. Ok. Let's see. Um. The other woman. Oh, yeah, your screen said get to the point. Well, it's this way Dr. Laura; it all started when I was born - actually before I was born, when my dad was born…"

"What is your question for me!" (Sound of a can of Budweiser snapping open.)

"Well, it's this other woman. I think I'm in love with her - and it's probably wrong."

"You married, Bob?"

"Yes."

"To her - the other woman?"

"No."

"That's not good, Bob."

"But Dr. Laura, she's beautiful. And I need a change. And she would be just the kind of woman to compliment me, the way I am, my style, and, well, not to be too humble: my destiny."

"I see. Bob, do you have kids?"

"Yes."

"You're going to throw away your happy home on some pretty skirt?"

"No, pretty eyeglasses. She wears these eyeglasses, Dr. Laura. I mean, you've never seen anything like her. It's the contrast. The soft, feminine vulnerability thing behind the studious I'll-do-whatever-it-takes-to-do-right eyeglasses thing. Dr. Laura, I'm in love with her. And madly. I'm madly in love. And I believe I deserve her."

"What about your wife and kids, Bob?"

"Yes, there is that. There will have to be reconciliation."

"There can be none, Bob. It's wrong. You can't have… What's her name?"

"Uh, call her Mrs. Jones."

"Ok, you and Mrs. Jones."

"Right - me and Mrs. Jones."

"You got a thing going on with Mrs. Jones yet, Bob?"

"No. We both know that it's wrong."

"I think you're starting to understand, Bob."

"Yes. It's wrong. And I'm above that. It's really wrong. And it's shameful. It's shameful, Dr. Laura."

"Tell me why you think it's shameful, Bob."

"Because it's so completely wrong. It is substantially wrong."

"Why?"

"It would not be good for my family. But it's worse than that."

"Tell me why."

"It would not be any good for my career, Dr. Laura. But it's even worse than that."

"Tell me why."

"It would devastate all my friends. And all my many important associates. Especially them. I have many important associates. But it's much worse than that even."

"Tell me why it's worse than that, Bob." (The sound of a large can of Fosters Ale cracking open.)

"It would be hard on the country, Dr. Laura. America would suffer. But it's worse than that."

"Worse than your own country suffering, Bob?"

"The course of history would change, Dr. Laura. Actually, there would be no change. And it would be bad to leave things the way they are. But me and Mrs. Jones would be much worse than even that."

"Bob, there's only a few minutes left of my show. Just tell me how bad this could possibly be."

"Well, Dr. Laura, it's her. She's the wrong political party. Though, it's even a little worse than that."

"The wrong political party is all that bad, Bob? There's other things in life besides politics."

"Not when you're in love with your opponents' vice presidential running mate, Dr. Laura!"

"(sigh) You're not the only one, 'Bob.' And we've run out of time! Now, Bob, go do the right thing!"

"No, Dr. Laura, she does the right thing. I do the progressive thing. And I'm feeling like progressing right up that Alaskan Highway and…"

(Radio broadcast switches to paid political commercial for the McCain/Palin campaign.)

(From Dr. Laura's studio, the sound of a kegger getting pumped up and beer nut packages savagely being torn open.)


The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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