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Simon’s heart quivered, because it was invigorated by Susan’s lovely complement, and because Simon was excited that he would get to eat the rest of the Mini Sirloin Burgers after all. “Indeed, I had forgotten that you so frequently eat at that restaurant,” quoth he. “And for that I am eternally sorry.” By the way, all this time, Simon’s restrained but playful hair was more perfect than an Asian kid’s SAT math score, and his eyes were deeper and browner than a chocalatier’s wet dream. To be sure, none of this was lost on Susan.
“If you must feel sorry for something,” she replied, so ugly but likeable, “feel sorry that we have been talking about Mini Surloin Burgers for the last three hours. In fact, I believe we have forgotten about the show entirely.”
“You are absolutely right, Susan!” exclaimed Ryan Seacrest bicuriously. “Thank God I wrote down in my diary that Simon likes to eat his Mini Surloin Burgers with bad wasabi-otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to smell you out. And lucky for you, Simon, that the producers decided to go with the team judging system tonight. They ran out of time before you would have gotten the chance to say anything.”
But Simon Cowell was not listening to Ryan Seacrest, mostly because he was thinking about how much Susan Boyle had improved on him over the last three hours, but mostly because he had learned to tune out Ryan Seacrest. He realized for the first time that he loved Susan, and that Terry Seymour was a cruel and wanton mental patient who had probably never even been to Jack in the Box anyway, and he was glad she was absent from the room, because she would make Susan look super fat in comparison.
“Susan!” Simon ejaculated, for the first time in over three hours, “where have you been all my life?”
“I’m sure I’ve told you countless times before,” rejoined Susan, realizing that she wasn’t even scheduled to perform on Britain’s Got Talent that night anyway because in order to reach the finals you only have to appear max two times. “I was in a coma from 1985 until about three weeks ago. I haven’t been able to take care of my body for over twenty years, which is no doubt why my face is all bent to shit. The whole thing was extremely traumatizing, and very soon, you will probably have to pay for me to check into a hospital.”
At these words, a metaphorical veil was lifted, and Simon’s memory was instantly revived to this horrible truth, kind of like in Watchmen when Rorschach takes off his mask and he’s actually really ugly, even thought this whole time you were thinking he was really hot. “That would explain,” he mused to himself, “why Susan never laughed at my witty Never Been Kissed puns, and why she is continually drawn to songs from 1980s musicals.” But as usual, Simon had a backup plan, just like X-Factor was a backup plan in case he couldn’t get the rights to Pop Idol.
“Ah Susan, God has been very good to us!” he said, obviously referring to the God of the King James Version of the Bible, because that’s a given for British people. “You see, I happen to have my very own hospital inside of my house! I built it so that I might have access to Botox at all hours of the day. If you were to come and live there, I would be the happiest reality show Tri-Host in the world.”
Susan could not believe what she was hearing, especially since it was not being mouthed sarcastically at her face. “I am quite surprised-quite-so-pleasantly surprised, in fact. But what of doctors? What of patients?” she asked, envisaging the doctor/patient dynamic featured in St. Elsewhere.
“Of course you will not be alone,” assured Simon, aware that this had been Susan’s natural state of being since age 12. “Terry Seymour has been a patient of mine for some time, and Ryan Seacrest is my resident physician-he visits each patient daily, and takes down scrupulous notes in his diary.”
You can certainly imagine the contrived, uncomfortable moment of romance that transpired next, like in the new Hairspray when Zac Efron’s character gets together with the fat girl, and it’s hard to watch even though you know it’s coming. Also, Susan’s soft, delicate upper-lip hair swayed under the passionate air-flow of her nostrils, and Simon’s disproportionate forearms pulsed with anticipation.
“There would be no greater triumph-indeed, no greater triumph of the heart-than to check myself into your personal inpatient treatment program,” exclaimed Susan joyfully. “But I must remind you that it is not proper for a maid to do such a thing without being married first. Do you consent to take my hand?”
Simon’s pupils dilated like a cervix during labor. “Absolutely not,” he said.
THE END.
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What the f*** kind of horrible person are you? you are disgusting!
this is disgusting, but OMG go to the Susan Boyle Fan Site and read their “Shippers” thread - a little fantasy thingy about Susan and Pierc Morgan. lol its a goodie!
my gosh how can people make fun of this wonderful lady, I agree Manda I hope Susan never read,s that thread its disgusting.
How low-life out of line for anyone to suggest anything about this dear brave lady’s personal life. How bored are you people?
This Lampoon article is cruel & inaccurate on 2 counts; It attacks Ms. Boyle’s personal appearance (& the authors have apparently not seen her album cover to verify what she really looks like) & it depicts a repulsive affair between 2 people who have nothing but a professional relationship between them. On the other hand, Ms. Boyle & Mr. Morgan have carried on a very harmless, very public flirtation for the last 6 months, in front of millions of people. It’s good publicity for both of them. Speculation on a pleasant outcome for that relationship is no more harmful or disgusting than speculation on where Ms. Boyle will perform on tour. I find it patronizing & out of line for people to treat Ms. Boyle like a child, a cloistered nun or a helpless victim. She’s a successful professional adult who has, in her own words, a wicked sense of humor.
This was so bl**dy funny, though you all should go visit Susan-Boyle.com, they have an even better story. I think it is called the “Shippers” I joined there once, read that and took to the hills mighty quick. Have never been back there since. Talk about fanatics man oh man they were so uncool. Forever having arguments and stuff. I am not going back that is for sure. I Will go find a better place like the official site.
Yeh I do love Susan Boyle, but I ain’t fanatical about it
Gee Ann, that’s really interesting! Since that quite harmless and fun thread was only renamed ‘Shippers” a few days ago it’s amazing that when you “once” visited the site some time ago you had the profetic wisdom to predict what it would be called in the future.
Methinks you fib just a little and have an agenda of your own - to come online, have arguments and try to destroy that site and the good people there. Hmmmmm.
read it and weap
today it seems men are being told it is for girls only, men reading it will be lableled peepers - and they are discussing how an annulment can be done so the wedding can proceed
can’t make this stuff up folks - go take a look for yourself
Sorry, “Shippers,” there’s nothing “quite harmless and fun” about making up fantasies out of whole cloth about real people. You know nothing about Susan and Piers except a few casual interactions in public, at the level of performance. What you are reading into those interactions is purely the creation of your imaginations. Piers Morgan has a girlfriend, with whom he was seen as recently as at Simon Cowell’s 50th birthday party. There is no intelligent reason to believe that Piers and Susan are “an item,” and it’s not particularly respectful to publicly fantasize about what you wish they were doing together.
Yes, the Lampoon story is crass, rude, and tacky–but obviously it was written that way on purpose, to make a point. At least the Lampoon story is intentional parody, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they had visited your “shipper” thread and were making fun of it with this story!
There was nothing amusing about the nasty comments re Susan’s looks; the idea that at least it’s “merely” a parody is something with which I heartily disagree. “Cruel” and ‘ugly” and “sick” I think aptly describe the psyche of the person who wrote this- and anyone who could enjoy it.