Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Meanwhile, in the Secret Underground Headquarters of Fox...
A network executive pitched a new show:
He smiled and stood up from his chair, his hair shining in the fluorescent light, his Armani suit immaculately pressed. "This show is called The Littlest Groom... it's just like The Bachelor, but with MIDGETS. Cause midgets are FUNNY."
Even as the word 'funny' passed his lips, the room began to tremble, autographed posters fell from the walls and the lights began to swing wildly. From beneath the executive's feet, came a sound of rending stone, and cries of agony. Suddenly, a great red fissure opened up, the concrete parted like rotted teeth, the stench of putrescence and offal filled the room. The executive screamed as blistered, grotesque hands reached from the Earth and grasped at his now soiled pants. As they touched him, his suit melted into his skin and his hair burst into flame. He cried for mercy, but the hands dragged him down into the fissure, which quickly closed behind him leaving only the faint scent of brimstone behind.
The President of Programming sipped at his latte, staring absently at the place where the executive had disappeared.
"Sounds great... we'll make it a mid-season replacement."
