Saturday, October 23, 2010

In which I post an idea given to me by my daughter, in the style of The Apprentice

I don't watch The Apprentice, although Patroclus does occasionally, because she enjoys the enormous disparity between its vision of Business World, and her own experience of it. I usually go and have a bath when it's on, and try and read an RPG rulebook or something, but I can still hear it in the background, even when I'm actively trying to drown myself to avoid it.

The worst part is, of course, the bit where they have to go and pitch something, which is the only point where The Apprentice crosses over with my own life experience, apart from the bit when they they sing the theme from Superman to Alan Sugar, although this may not actually have happened, I was trying to drown myself, and sometimes you hear voices.

I occasionally have to pitch ideas to producers, which is only fun if you actually know and get on with the producers, in which case you're essentially just having a pleasant chat about stuff you're enthusiastic about, with the possibility of someone agreeing to give you money at the end, which is always nice. If you're pitching to someone you've never met before, it's a horrible experience, which is why I've decided next time I'm in London and have to pitch summat, I will take ideas given to me by my daughter, and pitch them in the style of a contestant from The Apprentice.

INT. BOARDROOM - DAY

I kick the door in.

ME: (shouts) THE STORY AS YOU KNOW IT IS DEAD!
PRODUCER ONE: Christ.
ME: This is a one-time offer, it expires in ONE MINUTE'S TIME, and if you don't go for it, you are LITERALLY MAD.
PRODUCER TWO: Pitch me. Pitch me now and pitch me hard.

I glare around the room, establishing dominance until the producers are sweating and farting, audibly parping with fear.

I look down at the notes from my story conference with my daughter.

ME: There is a duck. And a poo. And (whispers dramatically)... a bear.
PRODUCER ONE: (nervous) Is there a location?
ME: Did you not hear 'bear' and 'poo'?
PRODUCER TWO: You're talking 'Ext' 'Woods'.
ME: I am 'Ext'ing all over the 'Woods'. Like a great Exting bear.
PRODUCER ONE: Christ.
ME: I AM WALKING TO THE BBC RIGHT NOW, YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE TO CALL MY AGENT.
PRODUCER TWO: (urgent) Can we get an owl in? It's just that owls are so in right now.
ME: I don't see an owl, it's not that kind of show.
PRODUCER ONE: Could we compromise on a pellet?
ME: 'Compromising on a pellet' is LITERALLY my middle name.
PRODUCER TWO: I think we're in business.
ME: YOU'RE FIRED!
EVERYONE: HAHAHAHAHAHA


Freezeframe on everyone laughing. That is how television is LITERALLY made.

9 comments:

Boz said...

This has made me chuckle. And I'm nearly always in on Saturday afternoons.

Simes said...

This may just be the greatest story ever told.

asta said...

I think you've got a winner here.

Yes said...

I want to make sex with this blog post but I would only break my laptop and lacerate my GIANT PENIS!

Valerie said...

I thought television was literally made by bolting together LCDs and cases and bits of metal and plastic, but what do I know. Possibly your television is made out of bear and poo. In fact, given that you have children, that is more than likely.

"audibly parping with fear" made me spit tea. Apparently we've all been reading Allie Brosh...

Salvadore Vincent said...

You had me at 'poo'.

Claire said...

This made me giggle noisily for a while. It was so extreme it may even have annoyed some people nearby.

James Henry said...

Thank you for kind words. Since writing this, I've discovered my agent has set me up for some pitching meetings in London in two weeks.

Hmm.

Jayne said...

Please don't take props.