Oprah Winfrey’s staff hadn’t even packed-up their offices after the finale of The Oprah Winfrey Show when she announced a two-year contract with Fox to host a new reality show, Last Man Standing. The deal is reportedly worth 50 million dollars.
Last Man Standing has been on the back burner at Harpo Productions for two years, waiting for Winfrey to give it her full attention.
In Last Man Standing, 16 of the worst, laziest, rottenest men from across America are brought together in front of a live television audience. The audience and viewers will vote on who is the worst of the worst, then Oprah will choose his punishment and he will be eliminated. Punishments range from giving the wife a divorce and selling all his man-toys, to being stripped naked and soaking his genitals in ice water, to castration.
The contestants will win nothing, but wives and girlfriends can win vacations, appliances, cash, or new homes. So far, 300,000 letters pleading Oprah to take their men have poured in from across the country. Here are four of the winning entrants from Season One.
Dear Miss Winfrey,
I am writing to you today hoping that you will consider my case. My husband of 14 years is a well-respected minister in my community. People think the world of him. If they only knew what kind of a monster he is!
I fell in love with my husband when I was 19. He was charming and funny and he was a man of God. When he asked me to marry him, I was thrilled! Within the first three months of marriage, I began to see a side of him that I did not know existed. Nobody knows.
One day, I was going through his papers and I found out that he had been married twice before and also that he was still married to a woman in South Carolina. He has four children by her. I was upset and I confronted him about it. He hit me with his belt. A month or so later, I found pornographic magazines in the garage. When he got home, I asked him about it. He got angry and told me that it wasn’t a woman’s place to question her husband. He hit me with his belt. One time, he didn’t come home for three days and when he did, he was drunk. I was worried sick. I asked him where he’d been he snapped at me…told me to mind my own dang business. He got his belt and hit me with it.
The next week I found credit card receipts for jewelry, restaurants, and the local motel. This time I hid the belt. When he came home I kicked him in the nuts.
My husband should be on your show. He is a liar and a cheat, and has gone against God in the worst possible way. Thank you for your consideration.
Mrs. Sally Tenor
Wife of the Godless Whore-monger
If you’re looking for a no-good, lazy, shiftless lay-about, then my man is YOUR man. My husband, Earl, is a worthless piece of shit. I would divorce him in a minute but I can’t afford the mortgage on the trailer without his disability checks. And he knows it. He controls the money.
I can’t work ’cause I got narcolepsy. I just fall asleep anytime, anywhere. I tried different jobs here and there, but it never works out. I had a job walking dogs for people. Ten dogs, I had. I fell asleep while I was out walking ’em, and they all run off. I got sued by one of the customers. They took our brand-new colored television. Worked at McDonald’s nights, but again, I “went under” and somebody stole all the money from the register. I had to pay it all back. A hundred sixty-five dollars and 25 cents.
I would work if I could. Earl don’t give me no money for nothin’! I hadn’t bought new clothes forever. I had my high school reunion and he wouldn’t give me the money for the FABRIC to make my own dress. He is the cheapest man I ever knowed. He steals electricity from our neighbor. She’s 89 years old and he’s stealing from her. God help me.
I got to wait until he’s asleep so I can get a stamp out of his bureau. If he ever found out I was writing to you, he’d kill me dead, that’s for sure.
My Earl would win your show, no doubt. You can come today and get him if you want. The sooner, the better.
Dear Miss Oprah,
I am writing to you in hopes that you will consider my no-good husband as a candidate for your show, Last Man Standing. I could go on and on about how worthless he is, but I’ll give you a few examples of his highlights during our 21 years of marriage.
He has never bought me a birthday or anniversary present, not even a card. On our wedding day, he left the reception to go down the street and have drinks with one of the waitresses. He spent our entire honeymoon in a casino, getting drunk and losing money. I was so mad I left him there. He stole the money I had been saving for a cruise with my girlfriends, and he bought himself golf clubs and new tires for his truck. He also stole all my savings, almost 62,000 dollars, and invested it with a friend of his on a hair-brained idea to open a “Caveman” restaurant…only meat and waitresses in skimpy outfits. We don’t have more than 3,00 people in the whole town! They lost everything. He takes my paycheck and gives me nothing. He tells me at least once a day that I am fat. I cannot eat my dinner until he has eaten as much as he likes. I get what’s left over.
I don’t stand up to him ’cause he has a temper. I hate him. I hope someday somebody shoots him. Please take him, Oprah.
Dear Miss Winfrey,
My name is Teresa Anderson and I am from Burlington, VT. Every night when I go to bed I pray that the fat bastard I married will die in his sleep. I will continue to pray until it happens. Marrying him was the biggest mistake of my life.
Larry The Lughead, as I call him, is an overbearing, fat slob. I am embarrassed to be his wife. He is on medical disability from his job at the Sewer Department. Last year he got lodged into one of the pipes and suffered mental anguish, as it took nearly six hours to get him out. The town is suing us for eight thousand dollars because they had to tear up Main Street with bulldozers and front-end loaders to get to him. All this forced a detour in the annual Great Blackfly Parade that was taking place that day.
Lughead is what you call an “outdoors-man” because that’s where he prefers to pee, outdoors…all over my perennials. He spends most of his time in the backyard drinking beer, with his guns and bows and arrows—just shooting and drinking. He fancies himself a great hunter but the only thing he ever brought home from one of his hunting trips was the crabs.
Lughead is trying to become a taxidermist. There are dead animals in my freezer and animal parts all over the house. That idiot stuffed a deer last week for a customer, his very first one. When he was done, the deer had only three legs. Stupid hadn’t even noticed, and the guy was very angry. This is going to be his big business venture, and he doesn’t even know how many legs a deer has. Maybe that’s why he never shot one. He was looking for an animal with three legs.
Oprah, my husband smells. He hasn’t had a shower in over a year. Trauma from being in the pipe, he says…can’t be in small places. I think he can’t be in small places ’cause he’s so damned fat. Please take him Oprah, I am begging you.