Redneck reality shows are not bound by the confines of the other genres I just listed. It would seem out of place in The Real World if a character suddenly announced that they could create copious homemade explosives. The Bachelor would probably cut out the scene in which a contestant went on a minute-long rant about how goddamn great South Carolina is. But no one told the redneck reality shows about any of these things. And if someone did, they were promptly pushed out of the back of a moving truck.
In the same way that "rednecks" are a loosely defined group of people who can range from "person with a country accent" to "angered swamp man with a hatred of teeth and a love of machetes," depending on who you ask, the redneck reality show is a haphazard collection of themes and events all slapped together under the "REDNECK" banner. Each episode appears to cycle through scenes like they're being edited based on the movement of some kind of Southeast U.S. Stereotype roulette wheel. Normal reality shows are usually held together by the basic premise of "What will happen to these strangers when you put them in this MTV terrarium?" But redneck reality shows barely ever get that far. They survive on the idea that rednecks doing stuff is inherently worth watching because they're rednecks and, well ... they're rednecks.
Pixabay Public Domain
"I demand nine seasons of this. Also, that bucket is filled with whiskey."