Brian Williams stands on a set featuring a gourmet kitchen on the right, complete with center kitchen island, and a dining room on the left.
“Good evening. I’m Brian Williams and this is Cooking with the Candidates, an informal gathering of the remaining candidates seeking the Republican nomination for the presidency.
Tonight you’ll have an opportunity to see the candidates as you’ve never seen them before, in a casual and intimate atmosphere as they share their favorite family recipes. Viewers will be able to observe them not as distant, out-of-touch, rich, white politicians, but as ordinary people working together to prepare a three course meal as they share candid, unscripted moments.
Now let’s meet the candidates.”
(Rick Santorum, Newt Gingrich, Mitt Romney enter stage right. All are dressed in dark suits with matching shirts, ties, shoes, and flag pins).
“Greetings, gentlemen, and welcome to the NBC test kitchen. Does anyone know what happened to Ron Paul?”
Rick, Newt, and Mitt: “Who?”
Brian: “Maybe he’ll be able to join us later.”
Mitt glances around, looking puzzled: “What is this place called again?”
Brian: “A kitchen.”
Mitt: “Oh yes, that’s right. I believe I have one in each of my homes. It’s where the cook lives, isn’t it?”
Rick: “Mitt wants every home to have a kitchen. What a snob!”
Newt: “When I’m elected, every American home will have a cook by the end of my second term.”
Brian: “Gentlemen, I’m sure the viewers are excited to watch you get to work, so if you can put your aprons on we can get started.” (He picks up aprons from a chair and hands them out.)
As Newt and Rick awkwardly tie on their aprons, several people in white coats and chef hats enter stage left, pushing a cart loaded with cooking ingredients.
Brian: “Excuse me, but who are you?”
Mitt (still holding apron): “That’s my personal chef de Cuisine, sous chef, and their assistants, found them at the Cordon Bleu School in Paris when I was living there.”
Brian: “I’m sorry Mitt, but they aren’t allowed to help.”
Mitt: “Day-zoh-lay, my friends.” (They exit stage left, taking the cart with them.)
Newt: “This is exactly the problem. Mitt is an elitist who doesn’t understand what Americans are going through.”
Brian: “Gentlemen, if we can get things moving along. The supplies are in the fridge and the recipes are on the counter. Let’s start with the main course. Rick, you brought a soufflé recipe, I believe you described it as a frothy mixture of egg whites, spinach, and–”
Newt: “I know what real patriots want and that’s real American food like hot dogs and cookies. I wake up in the morning and I know that somewhere there’s a cookie. I don’t know where it is but I know it’s mine and I have to go find it.”
Brian: “Gentlemen, please, if you could step over to the kitchen–”
Rick: “You know Brian, I have to disagree. This is a serious dish, a presidential dish offering the ingredients that real Americans – God-loving Christians – want and need. Newt has become a hindrance to a conservative alternative.”
Newt (crossing to a knife rack on the kitchen island and grabbing a knife): A hindrance, froth boy? If I can dump a wife while she has cancer, you think I can’t do worse to you?”
Mitt: “I believe in an America where millions of Americans believe in an America that’s the America millions of Americans believe in. That’s the America I love.”
Rick (circling around the other side of the island to grab a knife): “Listen you whoring Tiffany’s addict, suffering is a part of life. And it’s not a bad thing, it is an essential thing in life. There are all different ways to suffer. One way to suffer is through lack of food and shelter and there’s another way to suffer and that’s one I’m going to show you.”
Mitt (standing between Rick and Newt, seemingly blinded by the studio lights, raises a hand to shield his eyes): “I love this kitchen. The counters are all the right height.”
Newt: “Stop the pious baloney, you pandering Papist.”
Newt lunges toward Rick. Rick lunges toward Newt. Mitt, trapped between them, remains immobilized by the lights, smiling brightly at the studio audience.
All three fall to the floor.
Ron Paul enters stage right wearing Elmer Fudd hunting gear, with a rifle over one shoulder and a trio of dead squirrels hanging by their tails from his left fist. “Did I miss anything?”