Move Cinches McGraw's Nomination for Nobel Peace Prize
N A BRISTLING recent episode of Dr. Phil, psychologist Phil McGraw dragged a kicking and screaming 45-year-old Ann Coulter to her bedroom in the "Dr. Phil House," a camera-rigged domicile used by the talk-show host to monitor its guests' every word and deed.
"Ann," began Dr. Phil, "you are behaving like a spoiled seven-year-old brat, and that dog won't hunt. You do the math, little lady. You will be going to your room without supper for the next 38 years, to make up the time you should've been learning to act like a grown up. Unless you want to start behaving your way to adulthood right this instant."
Undeterred, the boisterous right winger and recent author of If I Had Any Brains I'd Be Someone Else promptly stuck her tongue out at the burly behaviorist and gouged his shin with one of her three-inch heels.
Flinching, Dr. Phil fairly threw Coulter into her bedroom and locked the door. "No supper for spoiled little brats!" he shouted.
"Oh, yeah?" Coulter pounded her fists against the door. "Well you're a complete piece of SH*T, Dr. Phil!! And your wife smells and your sons are GAY!!"
"Keep talkin' little girl," Dr. Phil taunted on the other side of the door. "I can make it 39 years if you want. And by the way, tonight we're having pizza with all your favorite toppings. Yummmmy."
"I will NOT behave my way to adulthood, I won't I won't I WON'T!!!" screeched Coulter, furiously kicking the door until her shoe flew off.
At that, Dr. Phil stormed out of the house and the screen went to blank for station break.
When the show resumed, Dr. Phil, back at the studio and facing a rapt audience, spoke resolutely.
"With the help of the local police, we've worked out a deal. I'll contribute two percent of all my book sales to local food shelves, and the police department will provide housingwithout supperfor Ms. Coulter for the next 38 years, or until she agrees to comply with some basic standards of adult behavior"
Viewers at home could not hear the rest of Dr. Phil's words, drowned out as they were by thunderous applause.
© 2007 Kate Heidel