If Game-Show Hosts Were Guests on Their Own Shows.
BY MAX LUKER
Wheel of Fortune
Guest Host: Let’s find out about our contestants, shall we? Okay… Pat? How are you?
Pat Sajak: Doing great, thanks.
Guest Host: So, what do you do, Pat?
Pat Sajak: Well, on a normal day I play eighteen in the morning at Palm Links, have lunch down in the Palisades, and drive home whoever was sleeping at my house the night before, if she’s still by the pool when I get back. Get to the studio by two-ish, make smiley with Vanna, and put on this jackass suit. Why? What do you do?
Guest Host: Sooo, here we are again, with the Dawson family, from, says here the Midwest. A wonderful place, I’m sure. And, Mr. Dawson, I hear something funny happened on the way to the studios, no?
Richard Dawson: Oh, I don’t know, but yes, it was sort of funny, because, uh, because we were coming to the studio, and the guard at the gate, he says to me, “Hey, did you guys ever tell Col. Klink that you had that radio under the bed? Ho boy, that was hilarious!” And I just sort of looked at him, and didn’t really laugh, and, you know, it was just a show, and it was a long time ago already. How many times are folks gonna make that same joke? “Ha-ha” my ass. Jesus, bub. Get a life.
The Price is Right
Guest Host: Welcome to the show, Bob. Before we play Plinko here, why don’t you tell us something about yourself.
Bob Barker: Well, a few years ago I was on vacation with one of Barker’s Beauties — one of my beauties, I guess I should say, don’t remember her name — and the funniest thing happens when we get back to the studio — she decides to sue me for sexual harassment! Funniest thing. Holy crap, though, she had a nice rack.
Guest Host: Hello Alex, says here you once got sooo drunk on a commercial flight that they had to put you in restraints.
Alex Trebek: No no no, let me explain this once and for all. I was in first class and the cockpit door was open, and I could see the crew, and they wanted to ask me some questions, for fun I guess. But then the plane started having problems. So, I said, “No, I’m sorry, gentlemen, the correct question is ’what’s the problem with your altimeter bearings?’” and they said, “No, Alex, we’re pretty sure it’s a problem with the bushel seating in the co-pilot’s horizontal.” Then they said they had to shut the door. So I said, “You mean, what is the bushel seating?” And, well, they didn’t take to that. Words were exchanged — some things I probably shouldn’t have said — and, next thing I know they have me in cuffs, and the co-pilot screams out “Trebek, here’s one for you! The answer is ‘three’!” to which I said, “eat shit and die” And they said, “Ooh, no, sorry. It’s ‘how may Tanqueray and tonics are too many for Alex?’”
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