Naked Brunch: Burroughs Mulls Over 'Celebrity Apprentice' Finale

[From the POV of a resurrected Burroughs turned Hollywood gossip writer, Naked Brunch is my periodically updated, bizarro parody column for Patrick DeLaney's Nations-Strange.]

Great, the Mugwump's show. Twitching tiny lips and squinting eyes, orange soft serve running down a thick salmon pate, slow-motion walking, "For the Love of Money"—all the makings for a junk-sick Sunday evening.

And then I watched the Celebrity Apprentice finale.

Seriously, rubes and fruits—I kid like a eunuch Ginsburg on an Aztec ayahuasca binge. Even a wino walking his Afghan knew the Disk last night: Twang Man vs. the Signer, another dirty cement dustup for a few sawskis and a 7 Up can. A bunko job. Nothing less than for the King or Queen Gimp.

Had all the heat of the fuzz on me for heading a boy-toy ring in dark neon. Marlee looked good, too—sequined and high. A real albino Candace, hands like a madame. She flecks on the Night like an Occidental Geisha. I'd eat Chop Suey off a bathroom floor just to inhale her pink-yen cloud for one mum night.

Then there's the Twang Man: rich John Rich, all business—Rockefeller with a J. Paul lariat, a Texas T in the word "tycoon." ("Trump," even.) Went so far as to put a Stetson on the Pink Protoplasm himself—a wink and a nod for pale kids in teal gowns, St. Jude Children's Hospital, the "keeyuds." God's work with salt-of-the-Earth melisma and a calculated guitar chord. Something too solid about him, maybe. Like there's more in the sausage gravy than he's letting on.

And talk about askew: This finale's about as padded as a grasser with a wire and a mission—stuffed and ill-at-ease, beefing on his dealer for kicks and a new thing to do. I could smoke mescaline in a Lincoln Park rest stop, blear through the haunt of a Transylvanian fever dream, and still wake up to Star and NeNe fussing over Week 8's Bitter Suites.

Too much. Caught some Zs in a deprivation chamber. (I dreamt of Busey's smile, a kite, and Omaha Steaks—the usual. )

Then it's back to the Waking World. The MugTrump huffed with no break in his words aloft some amethyst throne like a sci-fi Genghis Khan:

"...Soon, I'll pick the winner. After these messages, the winner. I'll pick the winner. The winner will soon be chosen. Next, the winner. I'll choose the winner..."

And he did. Finally. Rich is the new Celebrity Apprentice. Now back to the chamber. The outcome's always better there.

Featured on Fallon: Tobler-OWNED

Hey, how fun is this? One of my jokes for Late Night with Jimmy Fallon's Twitter hashtag segment, Late Night Hashtags, made it on the airwaves! My thanks to Jimmy and the staff for thinking I'm funny. 'Cause I kinda am. The topic was #NewActionMovieQuotes, so I wrote a few silly quips in the spirit of a late-night Chuck Norris movie, and bingo bango: One of 'em did the trick.

So check it out! My Twitter handle is Exner83—and yes, you're welcome to follow me.

Rabies-Infested Zucker: We Need Tootie

Just days after his absurdly indelicate handling of the Coco-Leno late-night imbroglio—which happens to rhyme—NBC CEO Jeff Zucker has now given equally bizarre and often even impossible orders regarding the Peacock channel's primetime lineup.

"I want CSI on Cartoon Network," he said during a recent press conference. "Words can't prescribe [sic] how many changes I wanna make. We need Tootie from the Facts of Life, OK? And she's gotta be on Law & Order. Period."

Zucker continued before a stunned press corps: "I want a whole show just about apples... and pears. Like, y'know, the fruit. And we'll put it on against [American] Idol. It'll kill."

"And I want Idol on Bravo right after To Catch a Predator."

Many believed the NBC president appeared anxious and confused, often exhibiting erratic and convulsive movements. "He was like a zoo animal," said Don Hagen, a reporter for the Associated Press. "I could swear I saw foam forming at the corner of his mouth. Later he ripped his shirt and just kept yelling."

One big rival is baffled by Zucker's unworkable intentions. "He's talking about moving around and annexing properties that aren't even a part of his network," remarked Les Moonves, President and CEO of CBS. "When did CSI become his?!"

NBC's top exec also proposed a number of other puzzling changes: "We need Dan Cortese on three hours a night. The affiliates keep telling me, 'more Cortese,' so that's what we're doing. And it's definitely a green light on the Jordache Jeans Hour w/ Sheena Easton. I signed the contract in my own blood. And I also got a special phone that'll help me reach Tom Snyder on the Other Side."