[Scene starts with the host (Meyers) and Aguilera sitting next to each other in nice, leather chairs divided by a stand which holds a potted plant. The chorus to The Clash hit "Death or Glory" plays as the title card is presented and ends as Dillen begins the show.]

[TITLE CARD: Death or Glory with Tobey Dillen]

Host: Welcome to Death or Glory, a talk show all about The Clash’s hit song, "Death or Glory." I’m your host, Tobey Dillen, and with me today is Hollywood’s foremost Clash fan, Christina Aguilera! (mild applause) How are you doing today?

Aguilera: Pretty good! It’s nice to be here.

Host: It’s nice to have you! Now, is "Death or Glory" your favorite Clash song?

Aguilera: Well, it’s hard to pick. I like a lot of the hits off London Calling.

Host: (recoiling) Oh...

Aguilera: (happily) But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it! It’s good it’s your favorite song!

Host: Oh, it’s not my favorite song...

Aguilera: It isn’t? But...you have a...a show about it.

Host: (mocking confusion) Yeah?

Aguilera: (after an awkward pause) So, you don’t...like it?

Host: I heard it for the first time a couple days ago, when one of my weird-o uncles decided to (air quotes) "introduce" me to (again, air quotes) "good music"...so he got me that CD whose name you perilously uttered earlier.

Aguilera: (confused) So, uh...

Host: (mocking her in a "stupid" voice) Sooo, uhhh...considering that I can take pipe cleaners, a paper clip, and a jar of foot ointment and make better music...I think the answer to whether I like "Death or Glory" is a big, resounding NOOO! (his head rises with the "n", and falls quickly with the "o".)

Aguilera: Excuse me, foot ointment?

Host: You know, for percussion. (a pause as Aguilera appears confused) Listen, I’m saying The Clash suck, Chris. They’re nothing but disco-y, Euro-trash, blues-hoarding gays!

Aguilera: The Clash were one of the seminal socio-punk bands of the seventies!

Host: (again, the head motion) NOOO they weren’t...

Aguilera: (getting angry) Yes, they were!

Host: (the head motion) NOOO!

Aguilera: Stop doing that!

Host: (takes a deep breath, and lets out his longest yet) NOOOOOOOO....

Aguilera: This makes no sense! You bring me on here because we’re supposedly both Clash fans, and then you trash the band! This is just stupid!

Host: Hey, I never said I was a Clash fan, alright! (shocked she would think such a thing) Geez!

Aguilera: Well, I just figured since you had a show about them, you know...

Host: (interrupting) Oh, so a guy can’t have a show about a band he hates, is that what you’re sayin’?

Aguilera: No, but...

Host: (interrupting) My god, I mean, I try to break some ground around here, and this is what I get? Some bimbo questioning my musical tastes???

Aguilera: I’m not a bimbo, you jerk!

Host: Jerk? Hold on...does this mean you won’t make out with me?

Aguilera: (shocked) What???

Host: I can’t touch your boobies? (reaches his hand out)

Aguilera: (slapping his hand away) No!

Host: (faces camera with sickly grimace) Daddy! You lied to me! (runs off-stage sobbing)

Producer V/O: (heard over the intercom) Son...I’m sorry, I’m...stop, please...

[An awkward pause, as Aguilera sits in the chair with a baffled look on her face.]

Producer V/O: (breaking the silence) Listen, Mrs. Aguilera...I’m so sorry about all this.

Aguilera: What’s...what’s going on with him?

Producer V/O: He’s devoid of the ability to be funny, witty, smart, appropriate, hygienic...or Christian. He’s really a screwed up kid...so I try, every now and then, to let him host his own show. I’m a big-wig producer.

Aguilera: (being nice) Oh, I see. (beginning to gather herself) Well, I’m going to go...(stands up)

Producer V/O: Wait just a sec, I said I’d pay you to be here for 22 minutes, and if you expect your thousand dollars, you will stay!

Aguilera: What? What’s the point of staying here?

Producer V/O: The point is in my pants, sweetheart! Now do your little whore thing, baby! Dance for me!

Aguilera: I will not dance for you! I’m not a...

Host: (from offstage) Make her dance, daddy...make her!

Producer V/O: End it, you little runt, or I’ll feed your seizure medication to the dog!

Aguilera: That’s...that’s no way to talk to your mentally-handicapped son!

Producer V/O: Listen, if what he has is a real mental disorder, shouldn’t I be getting a check in the mail? (a beat) Well, I don’t...because apparently, jackass isn’t diagnosable!

Aguilera: I’m gone...this is insane...(storms off)

Producer V/O: You can expect a phone call from my lawyer! He will sue you and your family!

[A long pause, as everything seems to be normal.]

Host: Daddy...

Producer V/O: What?

Host: If I host a new show next week, will you screw it up like you did this time?