John and Elizabeth Edwards are sitting awkwardly onstage, far apart from each other -- uncomfortably aware of the other empty chairs onstage. Maury Povich is standing at the front of the audience, with one leg up on the stage, his tacky pleated pants bunching up.
Maury Povich: And welcome back! We've heard about poor Elizabeth Edwards and how her husband, John, the man who she thought would be the president, her president, had to confess his affair to her -- two times! The first time, he claimed it was just a one-night stand.
Maury: But there was more. Much, much more! And the hideous, excruciating, embarrassingly public pain for Elizabeth doesn't stop there. Does it, Elizabeth!
Elizabeth Edwards: Uh ...
John Edwards: Hold up there, homeslice --
Maury: Elizabeth, you've said that you actually don't think that Rie -- sorry, that woman -- is your husband's baby mama.
Maury: But if John is not the baby daddy, why is there a picture of him holding the baby?
[ONSTAGE] Maury: Well, we have a surprise for you, Elizabeth. Backstage, listening to everything we're saying, is Rielle Hunter. Who says. She is! The mother! Of your husband's baby!
Elizabeth: Where am I? Is this Thunderdome?
[BACKSTAGE CAMERA] Rielle Hunter is smoking a cigarette while her sister, Roxanne Druck, is bouncing 1-year-old Frances Quinn Hunter on her knee.
Rielle and Roxanne high-five.
Maury: Let's bring on the harlot herself!
Audience: GASP BOO!
Rielle and Roxanne strut onstage. Rielle is wearing high-heeled horsehair boots and a blond wig from the Kim Zolciak collection.
Rielle: Screw all y'all trash out there!
Audience: Hussy! Wanton woman! Jezebel!
Roxanne tosses the baby to Maury and rushes the crowd; security holds her back.
Maury: OK now! OK, everyone. Whoa, there. So, John. Look upon this beautiful child. Do you think this lovely little white baby is yours?
John: Well, it could have been nearly anyone's, right? You feel me, Maury?
Audience: Oooh! Snap!
Maury: I know you didn't want a DNA test, John.
John: Whatever. I'm not a scientist.
Maury: Earlier I personally supervised the extraction of DNA from little Frances. [Holds up needle] What a brave toddler! And thanks to the tabloid press, I knew exactly where to get some of yours.
Audience: (confused) Oooh?
Maury: I refer, of course, to Joseph Torrenueva, the infamous $400-a-haircut manscaper of Beverly Hills, Calif.
Audience Member: Crucify the hairdresser!
Joseph Torrenueva: Jesus Christ, are we still talking about his damn haircuts?
[ONSTAGE] Maury: Is everyone ready? I have the big news to deliver to you. Well, except for Rielle. Because -- audience?
Audience (in unison): The ho always knows!
Maury: That's right, ladies and gentlemen. Now I will unseal this envelope. And we'll find out who is the baby daddy. Is it John Edwards? Her former lover, the novelist Jay McInerney?
Audience: Huh? Who? Never heard of him!
Maury: Or maybe any one of the tens of millions of American men not currently in prison who might have walked by Rielle on a sunny afternoon while she was in estrus? We'll find out -- right after this message! But first -- John?
Maury: Is this affair completely over?
John: Oh yeah, it's over. I haven't hit that in, like, forever.
Rielle's eyes widen.
Maury: Is your political career over?
John: You know, Maury, I'm not sure I had a political future anyway.
Elizabeth's eyes narrow.
As we cut away to a Ditech commercial, we see Elizabeth pick up one folding chair and Rielle pick up another. They both head for John.