Shocked is an understatement. This morning I checked Twitter, and it’s all over the globe that Oprah is denying I will succeed her as queen … I mean king … of the talk show world. What? I threw off my Spiderman comforter, hurried to the computer and went into damage-control mode. Good thing I was already wearing my Wonder Woman bracelets. Look, they help with arthritis, OK?
What is Oprah thinking? Imagine the millions of fans who are already counting on me to make my soon-to-be announced appearance. Does she want to incite riots? Well, that’s just what’s going to happen if she continues this nonsense about saying I’m not taking over her talk show. We’ll just see about that, Miss I-have-two-billion-dollars-and-a-best-friend. Yeah, we’ll just see about that.
OK, I found what I’m looking for. Now I really hate to do this, but Oprah’s not leaving me any choice. She and I are very private people, except for those times she leaked to the Enquirer I digitally altered that picture of Tom Cruise and me. He WAS in my bedroom, dammit.
Anyway, I’m releasing the transcript of my last phone conversation with Oprah to prove she and I had reached an agreement. I’m not saying she begged me to take the show over, but I still have marks on my floor where I dragged her while she was holding on to my leg and, well, let’s just call it “pleading.” “Please” was a word she used repeatedly. Along with “a billion dollars,” and “you’re my best friend, not Gayle.” Yes, it’s all here, so let’s just replay this little repartee and see who the big liar is. Notice I didn’t say big fat liar. God, she’s so sensitive about that.
Phone ringing.
My roommate: Hello.
Oprah: Hi, this Oprah. You know me, right? Oprah.
Roommate: Oh, yeah. You. Listen. I never got a car.
Oprah: Yeah, you and a million other people. Put numbnuts on.
Roommate (to me): It’s for you.
Me: Who is it?
Roommate: Her Majesty.
Me: I don’t wanna talk to Elton John right now. He’ll want me to buy more of that Avon crap he’s selling.
Roommate: Not that Her Majesty, the other one.
Me: Tom Cruise?
Roommate: No, stupid. Oprah.
Me: Oh, geez. Now what does she want? Hey, did she ever pay back that five dollars?
Roommate: She still owes a dollar.
Me: Figures. Tell her I’m at Cannes with Liz Taylor.
Roommate: She’s dead.
Me: Then tell her I’m dead.
Roommate: He’s dead, Oprah.
Oprah: No, he’s not. I can hear him.
Roommate: She can hear you.
Rolling my eyes at roommate
Me to Oprah: Hey, Baby. Funny thing I was just dialing you when you called. Crazy, huh? What are you doing? Did you get my card? Yeah, well I sent it. Check your mail. Gayle probably hid it. You know how jealous she is of our friendship.
Oprah: Listen, I’ve got to make a decision today, and I need to know if you’re on.
Me: On what? You know I went to that rehab and got clean. Why are you hounding me? I’m not on anything.
Oprah: I’m talking about you taking over my show. We’ve been talking about it for months. Are you still gonna do it?
Me: Oh, that. Well, gosh. Didn’t you hear? That network that does Katie Couric is after me, too. Animal Planet? Something like that. And Fox. Oh, god, Oprah. They won’t leave me alone. They said they need a gay commentator like today. Can you believe it? One picture of Tom Cruise and me naked on his boat, and now I’m gay. I’m gonna sue. What lawyer did you use in that Texas lawsuit? Oh, and tell Maya I’ll need her support, too. Like she did you. I’m mighty traumatized. Tell her to write a little something that sums up how I feel. I’ll give it to the press.
Oprah: What the hell are you talking about? Shut up, and listen to me. I am not, now listen to me, I am not giving my show to Gayle. She’s been riding my coat tails for 25 years, and I’m sick of it.
Me: Honey, I dun tole you an tole you dat Gayle ain’t no good.
Oprah: What? Why the hell are you talking like Mammy from Gone With The Wind?
Me: Mammy? I sound like Mammy? I was going for George Bush.
Oprah: Well stop it before I slap the snot plum out of you. Now, look. I have to make an announcement in about an hour. I’m saying you’re taking over the show.
Me: Oh, gosh, Oprah. I don’t know. You know I’m wallpapering the bathroom, and I have that little book club every Friday night.
Oprah: I have a book club, too.
Me: You do? How come I never heard about it?
Oprah: Forget about it. It’s just a gimmick I thought up. Look, I’ll start you off at two an episode.
Me: Two million an episode?
Oprah: What? Are you drunk? Two dollars an episode.
Me: Fox is offering five.
Oprah: Fox is stupid. I’ll give you two fifty. And you get Gayle.
Me: Yeah, like I need that baggage. She’s your side kick.
Oprah: What do you mean by that?
Me: By what?
Oprah: Side kick. You implying Gayle and I are lesbians?
Me: If the Birkenstock fits.
Oprah: I’ll give you three, and not a word about Gayle and me.
Me: What about the pictures?
Oprah: Burn them. I’ll burn the ones of you and Tom.
Me: Oh, so you’re the one with those pictures. You said you didn’t know how the Enquirer got them. You’re mean, Oprah. You really are. Do you know hard Tom cried when those pictures got out? I had to hold him for like five hours. And it was really hot, so we had to take our shirts off.
Oprah: That idiot ruined my couch.
Me: So? He ruined my sheets.
Oprah: I’ll tell Martha to send you some more. So do we have a deal? Three bucks a show, and I’ll give you a room down at the Motel 6 where you can stay when you’re doing shoots.
Me: And my own makeup people?
Oprah: Hmmm. No, I’ve got some crap I’ll send you that Elton John sold me. Listen, I gotta go. I’m gonna make this announcement today. I gotta go break up Gayle and Stedman. She has him in a head lock.
Oprah Hollering: Gayle, let him go. I told you I’m with him just to shut the press up. Let him go.
So there you have it. I didn’t want to have to release this transcript, but Oprah’s backtracking forces me to do so. I better go practice for my close up.
Steve Ramos is senior editor at Dallas Voice. He can be reached at ramos@dallasvoice.com.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition May 23, 2014.
