While driving through Hollywood yesterday, as I do each Monday to attend my transcendental yogic sex therapy classes, I noticed a number of writers picketing outside Paramount studios. I honked in derision, which they took as a sign of support. In short, an embarrasing debacle for all involved. But on the bright side, as a struggling writer myself, I realized that there is no better time than now to bombard Hollywood with my many PATENTED ideas for TV shows and movies. If you’re reading this, Mr. Producer, consider it a Godsend and get in touch with me right away about producing one or all of the following projects. It sounds like a tall order, but I firmly believe I can produce up to three nightly TV shows and no less than eight movies simultaneously, provided all actors and sets are identical. First off, the late night TV scene. These nightly shows are hard up for material, and have been the first to suffer due to the writer’s strike. May I suggest the following replacements?
Instead of Leno, a show where I, your host, interview prominent celebrities of the day through the lost art of impromptu woodcarving.
Instead of The Colbert Report, a somewhat similar political news show, in which I read headlines off of Google news in an exaggerated fashion. I occasionally wink broadly at the camera.
Instead of writers, a crude assortment of Mad Libs, cookie fortunes, and washing instructions from clothing tags.
Instead of Conan, a show called The Late Night Beaver Stomp, which isn’t what it sounds like, but is in fact much worse (Note: probably want to shoot this one in Mexico).
Done and done. Next up, your television dramas--your Heroes and Losts--which are just now entering a golden age of addictiveness. You don’t want to lose that rabid viewership, and I’m the idea man who’s going to help you hang onto them.
Heroes should stay the same as it is, except every episode should end with Peter Patrelli getting shot suddenly and inexplicably in the back of the head and keeling over, dead. Then in the next episode, it turns out that it was just a dream sequence. Next episode, a psychically-induced fantasy. Next episode, we were just joking. I can do this all day, gentlemen.
Lost fans are leaving the show in droves, primarily because you’re not giving them enough info to whet their appetites for the next episode. I suggest inserting some random “Fun Facts” into each episode via flashcards. Either historical data, grammatical sentence diagrams, or the actors’ home phone numbers.
With Battlestar Galactica, getting people to tune in is much simpler. The show is clearly filmed in the far future, a time in which I imagine it is relatively easy to locate or build a device that transmits addictive radiation through television sets. Come on people; do I have to spell it out for you?
Finally, the silver screen. If this strike goes on too long, we may be in for a Summer rife with unnecessary sequels, spinoffs and remakes. After