Meanwhile, back at Oprah's studio, the frantic pace of working on an hour long television show escalates even as the clock ticks toward "show time". Oprah is reading background material while a makeup artist and a hairstylist apply finishing touches. She is the calm at the centre of the hurricane of activity that surrounds her.

A Producer hurries in, "Dr. Phil's ETA is five minutes."

"Thank you George. And how are Tall Pockets and Anexplorer doing?" Oprah replies.

"Tall Pockets is fine. He'll be a natural. But Anexplorer is huddled in the corner of the Green Room whimpering something about being a writer not a celebrity and refusing makeup."

"Oh Lord," Oprah sighs. "Have Dr. Phil speak to him when he gets here, will you?"

A Production Assistant sticks her head in the door, "Three minutes Oprah!"

"Thank you Shirley!" Oprah waves her hand and stands up. Being professionals the makeup artist and the hair stylist move flawlessly with her, still intent on their tasks, as Oprah walks the long hallways toward the studio.

Her theme music has been keyed and the applause signs are lit, the audience is responding with wild enthusiasm. At the last minute the makeup artist and the hair stylist fall by the wayside as Oprah steps out of the wings and onto the stage.

Cameras float and track her every movement.

"Today," she is telling the audience, "We will be traveling to a very strange place that I, for one, never knew existed. It is not a geographical location, more a state of mind. A very diverse and unusual community known as Blogstream. Our first guest for the evening is the creator of that community, Pioneer."

The audience responds warmly. Pioneer, looking even better looking in person than his photograph, walks confidently forward, waving to the crowd. He takes Ophrah's hand and settles comfortably on the couch.

"Tell me Pioneer," Oprah begins, "Why do you never respond to e-mail any more..."

*****************************************************************

Forty minutes later the show is nearing its conclusion. Seated with Pioneer are Taylor and Whispered Promises wearing identical dresses, Gloria is delivering letters of appreciation to the audience, several staff members are chasing Dalpha's Major Danes around the studio, the FBI are escorting Whit to a back room for interrogation after he made the embarrassing mistake of being truthful on air, LaLePop is demonstrating how to ride a bike and paint at the same time, Sherry is sharing cat photos with Oprah, Celtic Mist is shearing a sheep, Rubble is teaching dance moves to a member of the production staff, Sinann is responding to a question from Dr. Phil, Crone is casting a spell for the woman in the audience with warts, Katie is answering a reporter's questions back stage on white nose disease in bats, Hawk is standing in the balcony, white robes flowing, his wand pointed threateningly at HeatherScott trying to remove Bry's twenty year house hunting curse, while Bohemian just seems to be looking for some place to hide.

"I have one final guest for this evening and then a special announcement to make."

There is a loud roar from backstage and a curtain starts to smolder.

"Scratch, honey, can you talk to Asa. Your dragon seems a little upset."

Scratch hustles backstage where a verbal commotion can be heard before everything goes quiet.

Oprah smiles at the camera, her calm only slightly shaken. "My final guest for the evening was a great help to me in coming to my decision. As you know I was torn between giving all blogstream members a new car or free psychotherapy."

Dr. Phil, could you bring out our special guest." Dr. Phil appears with a tall mustached man.

The audience falls silent.

"And who do we have here?" Oprah asks.

"Wall y'ah know Oprah," Dr, Phil turns to the audience, "Ah was assigned to assess the mental state of the 'stream, as people who actually live in this community call it. And ah was beginnin' t'despair. That dog just don't hunt, if ya know what I mean."

Oprah looks a little confused.

"And then, ah discovered this here gentleman. And do y'know what this nice man, does Oprah. His name is Azron and he is the 'streams psychotherapist."

The audience breaks into wild applause.

Oprah is astounded, "You mean you have taken on the task of providing psychotherapy to...to...well, all this" She gestures around the studio with her hand.

Azron smiles modestly.

"So there is no need for psychotherapy for members of the 'stream?" Oprah ponders. "Then that means I will buy..."

Dr. Phil holds up his hand to stop her. "Now lets not get to hasty. Ah also discovered the 'stream is a virtual community, where everyone is connected to each other electronically. So they never need to travel."

"Why then the gift of a car would be an insult to them," Oprah stammers in astonishment. "These people are so far evolved beyond the rest of us, it puts the Secret to shame."

Behind the camera, a producer is frantically whirling his hand to indicate the show is nearing its end.

Oprah turns to the camera, "I'd like to thank all my guests from Blogstream and a special thanks to Dr. Phil. On a related note, for tomorrow's show, I have chosen the next book for our Book of the Month club. It was written by a relative of a member of blogstream. The book is called The Autobiography of Madam Sadie, a tribute to Bud Light, by Tennessee's foremost psychic.

"Good night, and remember to vote for Tall Pockets my new choice for President of the United States."

Key the credits. Fade to Black.