Last night turned out to be a busy one for me. Mostly because I had to spend so much time on the phone to try to correct a grievous injustice. Given the supreme importance of those phone calls, I've decided to transcribe them here for you, in their entirety.
As you read through these transcripts, you are going to be wondering how I have certain phone numbers. Don't worry about it. Let's just say I know people. People whose relationship status on Facebook is "stalker."
In the background, sounds of Jessica Sanchez texting and Phillip Phillips doubled over in pain, grunting "But Dave Matthews doesn't have kidney issues!"
RYAN SEACREST: Seacrest is in the house and on the phone!
Abby: Hi Ryan. It's Abby. How could you do this to me? Seriously. How?
SEACREST: Julianne? I thought we used protection!?!
Abby: I said ABBY, Ryan! A-B-B-Y! That sounds nothing like Julianne.
SEACREST: Oh, sorry Adam. What can I help you with? Are you a Kardashian who wants a spin-off?
Abby: No, Ryan. I don't want a spin-off. I want to know what genius at Fox greenlighted the idea to schedule the final Idol performances for a Tuesday night. Everyone knows that performance night is WEDNESDAY night, Ryan. There's no confusing a Tuesday with a Wednesday. Tuesday is the day you do two of everything, and Wednesday is the day you look at and wonder who's the jerk that thought a "d" can and should be silent. Come to think of it, I bet that jerk was someone at Fox.
SEACREST: Be cool, my baby. We used a fancy algorithm and cross-populated test audiences to determine that we needed to jazz up this finale. What better way to jazz it up than to pull the ultimate switch-a-roo? Get everyone all comfortable with a mid-week treat and then WAH-BAM. Get all up in their calendar with a one-hour extravaganza ONE. DAY. EARLY. Do you see the brilliance?
Abby: Again, I'm coming at you with a respectful no here, Ryan. I don't see the brilliance. In the Groundhog's Day that is my life, the only variety I get revolves around television programming. Before you judge me, let me assure you that fact is not depressing, it's enlightened. Let me also remind you that the girl you thought you'd impregnated still can't rent a car on her own. Point is, Wednesday night is Idol performance night in my house and households across the country. Parents everywhere race their children to bed by 8PM so that they can tune in, and tweens nationwide amass their storage shed of cell phones so that they can register the one vote that counts anymore in this place we call the United States of America. And Fox dares to disrespect that devotional planning by springing a change-up at the 11th hour? How do you think Kate would feel if Will did a hard right just before reaching the end of the aisle and pushed Harry into the chaste hand-holding position before the Queen Mother and the dude with the decorated dunce cap? The answer is she wouldn't be as heart-broken as I was last night, Ryan.
SEACREST: Huh? I'm Googling "impregnated." Can you hang on a second? Also, I have Selena Gomez on the other line.
Abby: You're useless to me, Seacrest. I'm moving up the chain.
RANDY JACKSON: Yo yo yo yo yo yo DAWG! Yo yo yo yoooooooooooo? Dawg! Dawg? Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo? Dawg! Dawg dawg yo dawg.
Abby: Ummmm...Mr. Jackson? I'm calling for some answers about the scheduling change for the live performance show? I've been a devoted audience member for months now and I feel very cheated on. I feel like I just found out my husband had an affair. Only it wasn't my husband. It was you. You cheated on me for a Tuesday night. That sounds like something only TGIFriday's should be able to pull off with Ruby of Ruby Tuesday's. How could you?
RANDY: We are in it to win it, yo Dawg! We gotta have it! Yo! Dawg?
Abby: Do you speak English?
RANDY: I am wearing a pin!
Abby: Okay. You speak English. But you don't appear capable of rational conversation. I will let you go, ummm...look at your pin.
RANDY: Pins are pinny!
Abby: I am hanging up now, Randy.
JENNIFER LOPEZ: I wanna dance, and love, and dance...again. I wanna dance, and love, and dance...again!
Abby: You answer your phone singing your new single?
JLO: I love working subtle promotional tricks into everything I do. It gives me goosies to think about all the multi-tasking I'm able to get done.
Abby: I am sorry to bother you, but I just was wondering why in the world you'd put a dagger through my heart and sign off on switching the performance night from Wednesday to Tuesday?
JLO: Casper! Here Casper! Come on Casper! That's a good boy. Casper! Now sit, Casper. Mommy's got a treat. Sit. Siiiittttt. Good boy Casper!
Abby: You named your dog after your boyfriend?
JLO: You so silly! I don't have a dog! I'm talking TO my boyfriend. Aren't I, Casper? Yes, I am! Yes, I am! Who's the best Casper in the world? That's right, you are! You're my little Casper wasper!
Abby: Did you hear my question? Not the one about your boyfriend dog. The one before that.
JLO: Can Casper roll over tonight? Roll over, Casper! Come on! Show mommy how you can roll over! Good....good....good! Good roll Casper! Casper gets a treat!
Abby: WILL YOU MARRY ME?
JLO: I'm sorry -- what was that you were saying? How can I help you?
Abby: I knew that'd get your attention. Tell me, JLO -- why the switch from Wednesday to Tuesday? Why?
JLO: You don't want to marry me? Casper! You get back here right now! You know you can't go in that room!
Abby: You're clearly busy. I'll let you go. Good luck with your training -- I mean, have fun on date night. By the way - you looked awesome tonight. I want dewy skin like....
JLO: CASPER! What do I see behind that curtain???
STEVEN TYLER: Rarrrrrooowwwweeeeeeayyyayayyyayyyyyyyyy!
Abby: Mr. Tyler. This is a real honor. I have so many things I want to ask you about. Those lips. That hair. Those accessories. But before we get to how you humanized Heath Ledger's look as the Joker, I was just wondering if I could trouble you with a question. Why the switch from Wednesday night performances to a Tuesday night finale performance?
TYLER: What in the hell is a TUESday?
Abby: What? Huh? Wh---? HUH?!?
TYLER: It's a beautiful thing. You nailed it.
Abby: Okay....I gotta go. My armpit's on fire. So sorry. Call back later....
NIGEL LYTHGOE: Cheerio tip top of the evenin' to you!
Abby: Mr. Lythgoe! Finally! I've been trying all night to get a simple answer and I think you're the only man can who can help me.
LYTHGOE: Blimey! Sounds like you're in quite a pickle. How can I help you?
Abby: Please, tell me: as the producer of Idol, why in the world would you pull a fast one on your dwindling audience? You now know that you can't take your ratings on faith. You've got to find new ways to reach new people, sure. But what about the people you already have in the palm of your hand? Shouldn't you treat them with a little respect? And isn't a baseline of respect giving them something they can depend on? Like Wednesdays being performance night? I'm no titan of industry, but I think that's the least you can do, not to mention the smartest thing you can do. How many millions of people, like me, didn't check their Twitter feed until it was too late? Until history had already been made? Until Nielsen had already tallied your ratings? I don't mean to overstep my bounds, but come ON, Nigel!
LYTHGOE: Don't get your knickers all in a twist! Watch the results show tomorrow. Google the performances you missed tonight and enjoy them over your slow connection speed and on a tiny screen. I mean, seriously, darling. This is no tempest in a teapot.
Abby: How can you be so cavalier about all this? It's like you don't even care. Like you WANT the show's ratings to keep declining.
Wait, did I just hear....?
Nigel! I would recognize the sounds of that black t-shirt anywhere! You're with Simon!!!
SIMON COWELL: Mwahhhhaaahaaahhaaaa!!! If I can't get viewers with over-worked production numbers and beaten-down has-beens the likes of Britney, then I will just kill the competition from the inside out. My work here is DONE. Back to the French Riviera for me!
Paula? Get your purse!
And get mine too, while you're at it!
This is all true, people. And very sad. Thank you.