How can people be so evil as to take pleasure in watching others suffer? How can a human being delight in such a dark contortion of nature? Why is this unnatural creation of man readily available to anyone and everyone? No one will ever know. I am talking, of course, about daytime television. As far as I'm concerned, there is no greater threat to America's moral fiber than Jerry Springer. The only reason that this show thrives at all is because of their prime audience. The arrogant middle-class housewife treating herself to a small break, slurping down a plastic cup of low-fat chocolate pudding, eyes glazed over, staring at the television, ignoring all that goes on in her empty, suburban life, feeling sorry for herself, wondering where all her life went, when suddenly, something magical happens. Those magical words come screaming out of the 10 inch television screen. Those magical words that will forever change her life.
"Today, our guest will be a small boy who has a growth the size of his fist growing from his nose."
At first, she is disgusted, then slowly, she becomes intrigued. Was it even remotely possible that someone had a worse life than her? Why did these people have this little boy on their show? What did they plan to do with him? Thinking the worst, she begins watching. And, sure enough, this show awakens feelings inside of her that she had never felt beore. It was nothing less than a moment of beauty when they sent that sad little boy to the world's biggest put-put golf course! From this moment on, she knows she's hooked. There's no going back. Before she knows it, what used to be a small break every once in a while, suddenly transforms into constant time in front of the Television. Her physical health quickly deteriorates, and her basic human decency wears down, becomes thinner and thinner, until it's hardly there anymore. Where she used to cry, she now laughs, where she used to love, she now hates. That crummy little 10-inch telly is exchanged for a 42-inch plasma (courtesy of her family's joint savings), and eventually, she spends all her time sitting on the couch. But it's not just Maurie anymore. Oh, no. Now she's moved on to bigger things. Much, much, bigger things. Jerry Springer, Judge Judy, even America's Funniest Home Videos. These shows used to cause her pleasure, where now they simply give her a feeling of quaint emptiness. All that can fulfill her hunger is more and more and more. She is caught in a vicious circle, she spends all her money on Oprah dvd's, and her physicality goes so long out of check she turns into a fat, hairy beast. Eventually, her husband leaves her and takes the children, so, driven almost to madness, only demands the family RV, which she takes to a trailer park and lives in for the rest of her days. Several years later, her savings finally run dry, and in a final act of desperation, writes a letter to Maurie.
"My life has no meaning but your show. Please help me."
Her story intrigues the executives at ABC and they accept it hastily.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, a woman sits at home. A bored housewife slurping down a cup of low fat chocolate pudding, treating herself to a little break, eyes glazed over, staring at the Television, when a few magical words shout from the T.V.'s speakers.
"This morning, we will be having a woman who says our show changed her life!"
So it begins once again.
