As anybody who's ever seen this show will already know, this story is not intended for children. If you're easily offended, either by the show or by the usual SGDVD content, then turn back now.

  vs.   Jerry Springer

By Oliver Mulvey

(The Commercials come to an end. We join the show some time after it has started and the debate is already in full swing.)

(INT: TV studio. The crowd is watching the stage intently, ever vigilant for any sign of a fistfight. A pair of disturbed-looking people sit on the stage.)

Jerry (not to be confused with Geri): Welcome back. Now, if you've just joined us, we've been talking to Denise and Butch. Now, they've been going out together for a year, but Denise has just got around to telling Butch that she's really a man. However, as we're going to find out, it's really Butch that has the surprise for Denise.

Audience: GASP!

Butch (clearly 'a few cans short of a six-pack'): That's right, Denise, I do have a surprise for you.

Denise (clearly a bigger slut than Geri): What is it, hon?

Butch: I'm… err… ahh…

Jerry: Come on, now, Butch, don't be shy.

Butch: I'm in love with somebody else, Denise.

Denise (horrified): Oh, how could you?! Who the hell is it? No, don't tell me. It's that slut Cindy from the supermarket isn't it? Don't you go-a-lying now, Butch. I've seen you looking at her.

Butch: No, it ain't Cindy. She's called Flossie.

Denise: Flossie? What the hell kind of name is that for a woman?

Butch: She's not a woman, Denise.

Denise: Huh?

Jerry: I think it'd be simpler if we just bring Flossie out here.

(Flossie is led on stage.)

Flossie: Baaaa.

(Flossie is quite clearly a sheep.)

Denise: Butch, how could you?! You know that sheep and I have an understanding.

(Denise and Butch hurl their chairs at each other and mindless violence prevails for a few minutes. The audience scream with delight. After the cameras have enough footage, the security staff break up the fight.)

Jerry: Now, while Denise and Butch are thinking about their relationship, I'd like to introduce our next guest on today's show. Please welcome Miss Geri Halliwell, better known as Ginger Spice.

(Ginger walks on stage to the applause of the crowd.)

Man in crowd (there's always one): Get yer tits out!

Ginger: Ok, give me a momen… Hey, piss off.

Jerry (conciliatory): Hey, hey, don't pay any attention to him. Now, it's my understanding that for the past couple of years you've been part of a band called the Spice Girls. You've travelled around the world singing dire pop songs and brainwashing young children into buying your records, making a great deal of money in the process. Is that right?

Ginger: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Jerry: Now, you've come hear today because there's something that you've been wanting to tell the other girls in your band.

Ginger: Oh yes, there's something that I've been meaning to get off my chest for a long time.

Man in audience: Your clothes?

Ginger: Well, those as we… Hey, I thought I'd told you to piss off.

Jerry (to the audience): Come on, people, let her have her say. (to Ginger) Go on, what were you about to say?

Ginger: Just that I've got something very important to tell them.

Jerry: Ok, let's bring them on so that you can tell them.

(The other four Spice Girls are led on stage.)

Posh: Why did you bring Ginger out first? After all, I'm much better looking than her.

Ginger: Bollocks! You just use more makeup, bitch.

Posh: I don't know why you bother using makeup at all, whore. After all, your face is a lost cause already.

(The two girls prepare to leap at each other, but they are restrained by security.)

Jerry: Now, Ginger, would I be right if I were to guess that there's a touch of hostility between yourself and Posh?

Ginger: Definitely. However, I hate the rest of them just as much.

Jerry: Why is that? Could you take us through your reasons for hating each girl? Let's start with Baby, she seems inoffensive enough.

Ginger: Ok, watch this.

(She goes over to Baby.)

Ginger: Hey, Emma, how are you doing?

Baby: Duh.

Ginger: Isn't the weather nice today?

Baby: Tee Hee.

Ginger: Do you want a shiny object?

Baby (bouncing up and down): Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh!

(Ginger pulls a paperclip out of her pocket. She throws it into the corner of the studio, by the wall. Baby dives after it and lunges headlong into the wall. Her unconscious form is manhandled back into her chair by the security staff. A few confused audience members clap.)

Ginger: See what I mean?

Jerry: I don't know. She seems brighter than most of our guests. And she hasn't hit anybody with a chair yet.

Ginger: She's bad. But she's nothing like as bad as Sporty.

Jerry: Why, what's your problem with Sporty?

(Sporty appears to be flirting with Denise.)

Ginger: Hey, Sporty, I think you're in with a chance there.

Sporty: Really? That's grea… (she stops, thinks and realises her mistake) wait a moment, in with a chance of what?

Ginger: Having sex with that woman.

Sporty (cautious): Why would I want to do that? I'm comfortable with my sexuality.

Ginger: It's just a pity that nobody else is.

Sporty: Are you implying that I'm not (she stops and thinks for a moment) straight?

Ginger: Damn right I am.

Sporty: That's bloody slander, you cow.

(The audience start to chant "Jerry, Jerry.")

Ginger: See, the audience agrees with me.

Jerry: Actually, I think they're shouting Jerry with a 'J', not Geri.

Ginger: Oh, I see. (She turns to the audience.) Well, screw you, you bastards.

Jerry: Ok, can we just clear a few things up. Sporty, you say that you're not gay? Am I right?

Sporty: Right.

Jerry: And you've never had a gay experience.

Sporty: No. Never.

Posh: I find that a bit hard to believe. After all, I've had lesbian experiences.

Sporty (shocked): Huh?

Scary: Oh yeah. Me too.

Sporty: Say what?

Baby (regaining consciousness): Tee Hee.

Posh: Baby says that she has too.

Sporty: What the hell? When did this happen.

Posh: Don't you remember? That time we were staying in that seedy hotel and we all had to share a room. Ginger had gone out to get batteries and you were downstairs hitting on the girl at the reception desk. We just got a bit bored.

Sporty: Holy shit. I don't believe I'm hearing this. How the hell did it happen?

Scary: I'd just got my tongue pierced. I wanted to find out what snogging was like with the stud, so I practiced on the girls.

Posh: Then Baby got them out for us. That's how I realised that men just weren't right for me.

Scary: Hey, it's just not my style to be straight.

Posh: As you can imagine, one thing led to another…

Sporty (furious): I don't fucking believe this. You could have let me know.

Posh: Why? We didn't think you'd be interested. After all, you're always telling us that you're straight.

Sporty (spitting with rage): Of course I'd have been fucking interested!

(Suddenly, Posh, Scary and Baby crack up. Tears of laughter run down their faces.)

Scary (between spasms of mirth): Oh my God. I can't believe she fell for it.

Posh: I told you she would. You owe me five dollars now.

Sporty (realisation dawning): You mean you were winding me up?

Posh: Of course we were winding you up. You didn't actually believe us did you, you dumb bitch?

Sporty (blind with rage): That's not fucking funny. I'm going to fucking KILL you!

(As Sporty lunges at the other girls in a psychopathic fit of rage, the crowd goes wild. The camera stays on the fight for a moment, then cuts to Jerry.)

Jerry: After the break, we'll be meeting the families of a couple of the girls. We'll also be hearing Ginger tell the girls her message. That's coming right up after these messages.

(The break. People try to convince you that you can't live without things you've never heard of.)

(INT: Studio. Order has been restored in the studio. However, the girls all seem a little cut and bruised. Flossy the sheep is looking at Scary with a new found fear.)

Jerry: Welcome back. If you've just joined us, then we've been talking to the Spice Girls. Ginger has something that she wants to tell to the rest of the group. We've been exploring some of the relationships that exist within the group. What we're going to do now is; we're going to introduce the families of two of the girls. We'd like you to meet Posh's fiancé, David Beckham, her son, Brooklyn, and Scary's daughter, Phoenix.

(The various freaks are led on stage.)

Scary: Wait a moment. Did somebody just say that I had a daughter? I don't remember that.

Posh: You were probably stoned at the time.

Scary: I remember that I went into hospital at some point and that some nurses gave me some really lame drugs, but I don't remember anything else.

Ginger: You were stoned. Why else would you have called your kid Phoenix?

Posh: That was really dumb.

Ginger: Not as dumb as Brooklyn, mind you.

Posh: You bitch! I'll get you for that.

(Posh has to be restrained by security.)

Jerry: Now, David, you're Posh's fiancé, right? How do you feel about her?

Beckham (thick as shit): Me … like … Posh. Me … shag … Posh.

Jerry: That's lovely. But what I was tryi…

Beckham (interrupting): Me … shag … Ginger.

Posh: What the hell?

Ginger (smug): Oh, I'm so glad you had to find out this way.

Beckham: Me … shag … Scary.

Scary: Man, I need to cut down my intake.

Posh: For God's sake, are you blind?

Beckham: Me … shag … Baby.

Baby: Duh.

Posh: Aaargh. It gets worse. But at least he can't have shagged Sporty. That's something.

Beckham: Me … shag … Sporty.

Posh: Bollocks. She's gay.

Sporty: I'm not. Honest. (Everybody is looking at her.) Oh, alright. I was drunk and he was wearing a skirt. How was I supposed to know?

Posh: I swear, I'm going to kill you all.

Ginger: It gets better. It's not just us you see. Do you remember that time that All Saints were staying just down the road from us?

Posh: No, it can't be.

Ginger: How about the time that B*Witched were staying over the road?

Posh: No!

Ginger: Of course, I'll never know how he managed to sleep with Billie and Britney Spears in the same night.

Posh: NO!

Ginger: I must say, I personally feel that his greatest achievement occurred on the night that we spent in the same hotel as Boyzone.

(Posh is speechless with fury.)

Ginger: You see, Posh, it's good that you and I can be open with each other about these things.

(Posh picks up a chair and hurls it at Beckham. It bounces of his skull.)

Beckham: Hur … hur … that … tickles .

Jerry: Maybe we could all calm down a little here. Tempers are running high and that's not good. Ginger, perhaps you could use this as an opportunity to say what's been bothering you.

Ginger (turning to address the other girls): Girls, there's something I've been meaning to say for a while. We've been living together for a long time now. Sure, we've had our bad times, but we've also had our … worse times. During this time I've come to know each of you very well. I've learned about your characters, about your strengths, about your weaknesses. You've been a major part of my life for years now and there's something I want to say. FUCK YOU! I hate each and every last one of you. I hope you all rot in hell you sick weirdoes. I'm getting out of this band and I'm not coming back. Victoria, you can keep your moronic boyfriend and you can keep your bloody holier-than-thou attitude. Scary, I've had enough of your bloody mouth furniture. Sporty, I truly hope that whatever region of hell you are banished to is men only. Baby, I'm not going to waste my breath on you since you don't understand a word I say.

I'm sick of having people take the piss out of our records. I'm sick of being booed off stage. I'm sick of being pelted with rotten vegetables. I've come to a point in my life where I want something better. I want to dress in black and look serious all the time. I want a proper, respectable job at the United Nations. I want to release nauseating records that everybody has to pretend to like because I'm all serious. I want to take a vow of chastity in the hope that people will forget I used to sleep with anything in sight.

There, I've said it. Now, what do you lot have to say for yourselves?

(There is a long, long pause.)

Sporty: That's OK by me.

Scary: Yeah, go ahead.

Posh: It's about time.

Ginger (deflated): You're not upset? You don't want to know my real reason?

Posh: OK, tell us the real reason if you want.

Ginger: I'm really doing this because I've got GIRL POWER!

Posh: Err, I hate to disappoint you, but, no, you've not.

Ginger: Huh?

Posh (patiently): You see, 'Girl Power' is an official Spice Girls catch phrase. It's copyrighted to us. You're no longer a Spice Girl, so we can sue you if you say it.

Ginger: Oh God. What have I done? How am I going to end arguments now?

Posh: That's your problem now. We don't have to help you anymore.

Ginger (meekly): Can I come back? Please?

Posh: I'm sorry, but I don't feel that you're really compatible with the direction that our music is about to take.

(Ginger bursts into tears. The audience holler their delight.)

Sporty: Shall I comfort her?

Posh: Please, go ahead.

Scary: No. Not even Ginger deserves that. (To Ginger) Cheer up, Ginger, maybe you could invent your own catch phrase. How about 'GERIatric Power'?

Posh: Hehe. I like this game. How about 'Slut Power'.

Ginger (howling): No! It can't be!

(She launches herself at the girls. Pandemonium breaks out upon the stage. Chairs and punches fly seemingly at random. Sporty takes advantage of the situation to grope Denise. However, as her hand reaches Denise's crotch, a horrified look appears on her face. She screams once in disgust, then topples over dead, killed by the shock of her discovery. Audience members storm onto the stage to participate in the carnage.)

(Meanwhile, Posh and Ginger are fencing with broken off chair legs.)

Ginger: So, we meet again, Posh. The circle is complete. When we last met, I was but a student. Now, I am the master.

Posh: Only a master of bad music, Ginger.

(Posh lunges at Ginger and rams the chair leg through her heart. However, her victory is short lived, for, in her death throes, Ginger succeeds in cleaving Posh's skull in two.)

(Scary, surrounded by bloodshed, looks around frantically for a weapon. Spotting Baby, she picks her up by the feet and proceeds to use her as a club. Baby is soon reduced to a shattered pulp. Scary makes a dash out of the studio.)

Security guard #1: Look, one of them's escaping.

Security guard #2: What should we do?

Jerry: Kill her. It'll make great TV.

(One of the guards draws a concealed weapon and shoots Scary as she tries to escape.)

(Cut to commercials. Change the channel. Make a sandwich.)

(INT: The studio. It's time for Springer's final thought.)

Jerry: I guess we've all learned something today. We've learned that sex with sheep just doesn't work in the long run. But, we've also learned that forming a massively successful, yet hideously under-talented band just doesn’t pay in the long run. Sooner or later, somebody's always going to smash your brains out with a chair leg. That's it for today's show. Goodbye. Take care of yourselves, and each other.


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