Thursday, February 22, 2007

"SICK F**K" The TV Series

I'm so excited my guts may explode.

Our new TV Series, "Sick F**K is a go!!!

The meeting with Fox executives took exactly ten minutes. They said they had never heard such an explosive pitch. That usually translates as, "You'll never work in this town again." But, in this case, it meant not a pilot, not 3 sample hours, but the full commitment by the network for 13 complete seasons. This is unheard-of, precedent-setting and, well, mind-blowing, what can I say?

The Fox people said it, not me. "Eastwood and The Duke are pussies compared to this."

The concept is simple, as, I suppose, are all winning ideas.

Each weak, sorry, each week, some poor mad fool, pushed to his or her limits (Violence and retribution knows no bounds of race or gender, does it?), acts out some very visible, playable and filmable moment of revenge, or some other deeply felt, unrequited emotion.

For example, in our first episode (rumoured now to air on Lent), a guy in Wisconsin blows up a pair of school buses filled with kids on their way to a seniors home. He drives non-stop to Wilmington, Delaware, rushes into a busy pizza parlor, shouting "The clowns are here! The clowns are here!" When he tries to crowd into a booth with a family of singing Mormons, he is shot to pieces by two off-duty cops. It's dynamite.

In the second week, a woman, grieving over what we can only surmise is an imagined slight by a dog-handler in a neighbourhood park, awakes stealthily at 3 am and decapitates her husband and three children. Later, she dismembers the bodies, stores the parts for a while in the freezer, and finally, disposes of said evidence, by selling it to several organic food stores, convincing them that they have bought a revolutionary new line of health products aimed at clearing the system of toxic build-ups.

Now here's the Kicker. And I think this is what made the Fox people so eager to get their hands on this before any of the specialty channels or the wireless/Internet lunatics.


You never know, from show to show, if this is a scripted piece of fiction or, in fact, reality TV. Shooting digitally and saturating the colors, we cross a number of boundaries and make it that much harder for people to know for sure what they are watching.

My team of writers is amazing. Without naming names, their backgrounds are as diverse and schooled as politician, anaesthetist, brigadier-general, postal worker and male stripper (but only for a while to get through college.)

Now based entirely on industry buzz, the show has already garnered its share of (unwarranted, of course) criticism. Some are saying the violence is just too, too much. Others are complaining that the perpetrators rarely, if ever, are brought to justice -whatever that is supposed to be. For example, they are niggling that episode 47, the one in which the bank clerk spends his lunch hours sniping at passers-by from an over-pass in Scranton, Pennsylvania is unfair because the guy's execution is not verified by our cameras. Come on!


If you want to be considered for the show, or know someone who you think would be perfect, don't forget you can e-mail us at perfect@sickf**ktv.nut, or give us a call, toll-free at 1-800-IMA-SICKF**K.

All I can say is, "Thank goodness, most of you know the difference between entertainment and real life, " and "Yes, ma'am, that's a deposit, and yes, that's the right amount."


Perhaps, as usual, I've missed something.

Harper & The Boys spend the day yelling at each other in the ever-so-aptly named Commons.

The Prime Minister points to a local Newspaper article accusing the Liberals of scuttling the Air India enquiry for partisan political reasons. A Liberal backbencher is related to a person "of interest" in this never-ending nightmare, in which millions are spent and justice is never found. Or so the press story goes.

So the Liberals pound their desks and scream, "Bad form, Old Chaps."

Yawn, goodnight.


You gots to love the songwriters in Victoria. They're churning out those mega-hits day after day. Numbers like, "On Budget & On Time," "New Housing Starts Galore," and "Tax Breaks for Everyone, Like, Everyone!"

Meanwhile, down in the old Royal City, where hospital patients are trying to recover from ass-breaking surgery...


Here is your laxative to help you get regular again after all that anaesthetic...and, because we have no clean bedpans, here's your diaper, baby. Poooooo, away!
Ah, it's a fine life. And a fine and caring government.


Good news and bad news.

The bad news first: Guy builds a tree house for his two young sons. Looks great - the tree house, not the guy. Guy looks OK, but this is about the tree house, right? Guy knows a bit about architecture and design, so the tree house looks like Noah's Ark.

City Hall shuts him down. Rules, permits, fees, yadda-yadda-yadda, the usual soul-destroying, initiative-killing crappola.

Now the good news, seems the Wicked Witch of the West (Side) who is, of course, the complaining neighboooor, has shown rare courage and actually identified herself. Her name is Janice McShane. Or was that Jaundice McShame?

God forbid a guy should buy a house, pay taxes and build a tree house for his kids. Next thing you know the neighbooors will complain that he's not attending Presbyterian service three Sundays out of four.