“Thank you for joining us. My name is Gayle King, and I’ve seen Oprah naked on countless occasions. I’m sitting here today with Robert Kelly, known professionally as R. Kelly. Though Mr. Kelly is an award-winning singer, songwriter, and producer, we won’t be discussing his music today. Instead, we’re here to talk about his recent arrest on ten counts of aggravated criminal sexual assault. There are also allegations of imprisonment and abuse, both mental and physical. Mr. Kelly, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Well, first of all, thank you for having me.”

“Yes. You’re welcome.”

“I do have to say that the catering table is not up to my standards. Did you not receive my tour rider?”

“This is a news interview, Mr. Kelly. There’s no catering table.”

“Uh-huh. Can we maybe send an intern out for Skittles?”

“No.”

“They’re all the same flavor. You see the different colors and you’d imagine that they’re cherry, lime, whatnot. No, not at all. Same flavor. Any variation you detect is the Pavlov effect.”

“Placebo.”

“I don’t care what the intern’s name is, but R. Kelly needs his Skittles.”

“There will be no candy, Mr. Kelly. I’d like to talk about your charges. Ten counts of sexual assault on young women ranging in age from 13 to 16.”

“Now, when you say ’13 to 16,’ are you referring to their legal ages? Or their spiritual ages? Because some people got old souls. Which is what I’m attracted to. The soul. And the butt. But, see, you want the butt to be younger than the soul. Old soul, young butt. That’s the combination right there.”

“So you do prefer younger women?”

“Younger than who? They have to be younger than their older siblings, otherwise their siblings wouldn’t be older. You feel me?”

“Nope.”

“Gotta be younger than Miss Aretha Franklin. She’s so old that she’s dead. I don’t get freaky like that.”

“Younger women as in teenaged.”

“Sure, sure. Now, when you say ‘teenaged,’ what do you mean?”

“I mean women whose ages end in the suffix ‘teen.'”

“Sure, sure. Now, when you say ‘suffix,’ what is that?”

“Mr. Kelly, stop this. There have long been rumors about your predatory behavior, and now these charges are a laundry list of horrors. You allegedly imprisoned young girls and cut them off from their families.”

“Habeas corpus! This is a habeas corpus that’s being done on me right here!”

“Whatever you think ‘habeas corpus’ means, you’re not correct.”

“Objection overruled!”

“You’re just saying legal terms randomly now.”

“My Cousin Vinny!”

“Mr, Kelly, you are accused of some heinous crimes.”

“Oh, is it just the heinous crimes? Nothing about the mouths or pussies?”

“Heinous, Mr. Kelly. Not ‘anus.'”

“Gayle, these slanders against my name are racist.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’m black.”

…

“And?”

“There you go!”

“No. You being black has nothing to do with it. In fact, your victims being black and poor might have been a big part in why you were allowed to get away with your behavior for so long.”

“Uh-huh. Is there any way to distract you with anti-Semitism?”

“No.”

“Maybe the Jews peed on those girls.”

“Stop that.”

“Gayle, why would I need to imprison anyone? I’m R. Kelly. I sing my songs and women throw their drawers at my face. They scream. AAAAAHHHH! And then the drawers. Sometimes they got dookie stains in ’em and I gotta dodge. R. Kelly isn’t into poo-poo panties. That’s nasty.”

“What does that have to do with–”

“I go to McDonald’s and the cashiers show me their tiddies. I just want McNuggets and BAM there’s tiddie. And sometimes I play with ’em and other times I get my boys up to the counter and let them play with ’em. I like to be generous like that. I won’t share my McNuggets, though! They mine!”

“Mr. Kelly–”

“I’M FIGHTING! It ain’t right what’s happening to me! I was declared innocent at my trial! That means I’m innocent forever!”

“No, it does not.”

“Yes, it does! It’s in the Institution!”

“Constitution.”

“Both of ’em!”

“Why don’t we take a break?”

“Placebo! Bring me a cranberry juice!”