Oprah's Next Big Thang

So I had a very late night the other night, full of card games and
queso dip and too much soda and snacks, and let's just say it
wasn't the most restful nor sound of sleeping experiences when
finally I did make it to bed.


The following is the dream that ensued.


I was invited onto a sort of low-rent game show that was being
thrown together (it seemed) on the beach at an undisclosed place
in California.


I was being drug along by a rather large and obnoxious lesbian
who seemed rather unhygienic, and I was evidently partnered up
with her as a team mate for whatever this show was going to be
about.


There were crappy metal folding chairs set up in the sand, and a
bunch of half-dressed tourists and mouthy Yankees hollering to
make themselves heard by the little handheld camera that was
being run up and down the aisle between the two sets of chair
rows (divided like a church's seating.)


It all seemed very discombobulated, and when my new pushy
friend grabbed me and took me to the front of the gathering,
I saw that the questions we were evidently going to be answer-
ing were handwritten on some cheap note cards.


I sort of drew back, questioning the legitimacy of the whole thing.


Then Oprah appeared and began walking through the crowd,
making her way to us in the front. She took the microphone
from a strange and disheveled little man, and began greeting
the audience.


Then she asked if we were ready to play. She read the question
off the card: "What was the page length of the last book you read?"
she enthusiastically intoned! Then I saw that all the pairs had their
hands raised--a new concept for game shows, to be sure. Oprah
picked my Peppermint Patty without hesitation, and she quickly
spouted the supposed answer, "278."


Oprah squealed in agreement and everyone started nervously
clapping, as if it were an announcement at work of an asshole
getting promoted, barely-contained contempt and false smiles.


Oprah then drew out another card and proceeded to ask the next
question; "Isn't it fabulous to be here with me getting your shoes
filled with sand?" This drew more puzzled looks from the crowd,
but many still fervently thrust their hands into the air. If Oprah had
been signing them up for testing of nuclear devices, they would
have presented just as little hesitation.

Again, my stocky partner was chosen by O, even though I don't
recall seeing her hand raised. She yelled out a "Hell, yeah!" like a
cheerleader and the crowd went wild.

Once more, a question was asked, and like clockwork, my partner
chosen to answer. I felt a precognitive raising of the hackles on
my neck as I knew the worm would be turning soon enough.

Finally an older, stern, white-haired women in the audience near
Oprah called out, "Hey! That's not fair! You can't just call on the
same person over and over! You have to give everyone a chance!"

This rankled Oprah quite seriously, and she spun around and barked
at the woman, "Do you know who I am?!?"

The old woman, undaunted, retorted with a quip of "I know who you
used to be!" and the entire audience hushed and gasped air in a dire
'oh no she didn't' moment of anticipation and fear.


And then  things preceded to get very ugly.


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