The Vagina Diatribe: Darva Reclaims her Life
(On the set of Darva Conger's Playboy photo shoot.)
Photog: Now, Darva, baby, sweetheart, angelcakes, I know you're nervous about this whole naked in front of everybody in the world thing. That's totally to be expected. But trust me. You are a beautiful woman and the camera is going to love you. It's going to just eat you up. Are you ready to start?
Darva: This is all so unnerving. It's happening too fast. I'm just a naive emergency room nurse who made a mistake. Why won't people let me have my life back? (Darva's cell phone rings.) I have to take this. Darva Conger Enterprises. Talk to me. No, you tell Whoopi I'll do the week on Hollywood Squares only if I get top row, corner square. You got that? If she tries to stick me in the bottom row with those geek-ass losers, I'll jump her in the parking lot and inject her with rat poison!
Photog: Darva, precious, we are on the clock here.
Darva: I have to run. Don't forget to hook me up with an audition for the Kathie Lee gig, too. Also, I want to replace one of the "Friends" on NBC next season, preferably Jennifer Aniston. So that means Lisa Kudrow will have to dye her hair because you can't have two blondes on the show. Make it happen or I find another agent. (She hangs up.) Now what do you want? Why won't anyone respect my privacy? I'm a veteran of the Gulf War, you know.
Photog: Use that disgust, that anger. Make it work for you. I want to see some serious pouting after those panties hit the floor.
Darva: Are you out of your mind? I'm not going to take off my clothes in front of you. That's not the way I was raised. I'm an old fashioned girl with old fashioned values. Plus, I'm a veteran, who just wants to be left alone.
Photog: You lost me, sweetheart. What the hell are you saying? Is there some part of full frontal nudity you don't understand?
Darva: I only agreed to do this photo shoot as a lark. It was just something that sounded fun. I never in a million years thought that when I, and my battery of attorneys, signed a contract with Playboy granting them exclusive rights to display, market and promote photographs of my unclothed vaginal, anal and breastal areas, then cashed their six-figure check that I would actually be posing for the magazine. How was I supposed to know something like that? This is just like how I was tricked into getting married!
Photog: It does seem like you were lured here under false pretenses. But trust me. This is my business. These photos will come out looking very natural, very quaint, even old fashioned. Now undress, squat over the chicken and deep throat this Polish sausage while we lacquer your nipples. Where the hell is my kick line of hermaphrodite midgets? (Darva's cell phone rings.)
Darva: Hold on. Darva Conger Amalgamated. It's your quarter, start talking. Letterman said what? He wants me to be the second guest of the night. Who's first? The Pope? You have got to be kidding me. Screw that! How many multi-millionaires has the Pope ever married? Tell Letterman, he puts me on right after the Top Ten list or I'll go on Leno during sweeps week and give that waste of skin, Rockwell, an on-camera hummer! Also, the Top Ten better to be about me. Do it! (She hangs up.)
Photog: Now, baby girl, let's do this thing before the Vaseline on my camera lens congeals.
Darva: Omigod! Why are you media people always hounding me? You're like a pack of ravenous jackals. I can't stand being in the public eye. How many times do I have to go on Larry King and say it?
Photog: All right, everybody. Let's take five.
Darva: By the way, what's Hef's romantic status these days?
Photog: Hef is currently dating four women, including a set of twins. They're young, hard-bodied bisexual knockouts, who all share his bed simultaneously in an orgasmic orgy of sexual depravity.
Darva: Well, be a dear and let him know that I, Darva Conger Incorporated, am available now. We'll see just how quick he dumps those gold digging bitches. Hey, who do I have to marry to get a decaf hazelnut mocha latte around here?