Who is the greatest terroristof our time? Barbara Fawking Walters!

Okay, so maybe she isn't parking vanloads of fertilizer in front of the mayor's office; but at the very least she's an emotional terrorist! See, the worst thing about being a celebrity isn't freaking out on coke or wrapping your Ferrari around a telephone pole (that's the best part!). It's the humiliation that occurs afterward, when you're lured into Barbara's chair, forced to boo-hoo-hoo in front of a national audience, and then apologize for the crime of being a celebrity. It's sick, I tell you!

And who's the next recipient of Barbara's wrath? Poor Mariah Carey (interview airing Wednesday, September 12 on ABC's 20/20). You've no doubt heard tell of the squeaking siren's recent psychological problems, wherein she started hurling dishes around her house, and her subsequent trip to the funny farm. Again--where's the crime?? Mariah's only crime is her videos, when she wears those horrid wet-naps on her nipples! Anyway, that's no reason for her to have to relive her psychological trauma for the amusement of Barbara Walters! It's monstrous, I tell you!

"Hold on there, Wm.™ Steven Hump-Me!" I hear you cry. "Why do you give a flying handshake about who Barbara Walters humiliates?" Well, I'll tell you! Because once? It was MY sweetly plump honey-baked ham in Walters' chair, AND IT WASN'T PRETTY! Here, for the first time, is the unaired and uncensored transcript of that interview--AND IF YOU WANNA SUE ME, WALTERS, BRING IT ON! (Just don't forget the body bags. Your legal staff will need 'em!)


Babs: Wm. Steven Humphwey.

Hump: Yes.

Babs: You are successful. You wite a TV column. But you make the funny jokes, because you are howibly depwessed.

Hump: Mmm yes, yes, yes no.

Babs: You are tewibly sad. The focus of your column often centuhs on "diapuh gwavy." Is it because as a baby, you nevuh weceived the love you desiuhed?

Hump: What?!? "Diaper gravy"? That's not even my joke. I stole that one!

Babs: Why do you steal? Is it because you are vewy sad?

Hump: ALL RIGHT! That's it! Look, you old bag of wet laundry. You just want me to cry don't you? You want me to blubber like a big tubby baby, so you can brag to all your friends, "Oooooh! I made Wm. Steven Hump-Me boo-hoo, just like I did to that bitch Carrie Fisher."

Babs: I am NOT an old wet bag of laundwy!

Hump: You sure smell like one! You are an OLD, MOLDY, STINKING bag of wet laundry--with a SPEECH IMPEDIMENT!

Babs: Stop it! That's not vewy funny!

Hump: Awwwww! What are ya gonna do, laundry bag? Cry like a little baby? Well, go on, baby! CRY. CRY, BABY, CRY!!

At this point, Babs stopped the interview, and weirdly enough, I haven't been invited back.

But anyway, if Mariah is smart, she'll bring me along to help her out. And I promise! I won't say a word. I'll just stand behind her, rubbing my eye with my fist while dangling a laundry bag. What's Babs gonna do? CRY??