(In
an office, a television studio executive and an assistant are seated at a desk
across from a potential showrunner)
Showrunner:
Thank you so much for meeting with me today – I’m very excited to pitch this
series to you.
Executive:
Yes, we can tell. The premise does sound
intriguing, so I, too, am excited about all the money we stand to make off of this
thing.
Showrunner:
Well, this has been a labor of love for the past 10 years of my life –
Executive:
None of that matters if no one watches past the first 10 minutes of Episode 1;
now pitch it to me.
Showrunner:
[Pitches high-concept, epically worldbuilt, complexly characterized, subtly
philosophical, soulfully resounding series]
Executive:
(Leaning back with wide-open eyes) Wow.
Showrunner:
You’re darn right “Wow”: this whole thing’ll blow everyone’s minds and change
the landscape of television forever, again.
So, yeah, that’s how the series ends; I think it should take about 15 episodes
to tell the story properly.
Executive:
Whoa-whoa-whoa, back up a second there; all that was just for one season?
Showrunner:
Well, yeah; I mean, it’s a pretty tight story that can be told in a short
period of time – wouldn’t want to end on a cliffhanger and get cancelled,
am-I-right?
Executive:
With that kind of attitude, you will be!
Showrunner:
Oh. OK, I guess you could split
the series over two seasons with about seven or eight episodes each.
Executive:
With all due respect to our cousins across the pond – what do you think this
is, British broadcasting?!
Showrunner:
Ummm, sooo, what exactly do you want?
Executive:
Five seasons minimum.
Showrunner:
(Laughs hysterically, then stops abruptly) Oh, you’re serious?
Executive:
I’d actually prefer the series to be extended indefinitely, but my experience
in this business has taught me to manage my expectations.
Showrunner:
But – but – that’s completely unsustainable!
Do you know how long it took me to lovingly craft this exquisite work of
art?!
Executive:
Ten years, and yet I don’t care: either figure out how to stretch the story out
over five seasons of 20-plus episodes each using however many clip shows you need,
or figure out what shenanigans the characters can repetitively get into after
the ending you currently have. Find a
way to make it work, or you have no show.
Showrunner:
(Pulls hair in despair) I can’t just add to a finished story; it’s complete
as it is now!
Executive:
Tell that to the sponsors – they’re not gonna invest in a one-off that builds an
audience of consumers just to drop off suddenly in less than a year. The viewers will tell you the same: I can see
the comments now on how they wasted their precious leisure time and brain power
on an immersive fantasy world and realistic characters that all up and vanished
when one measly season’s over. The fan
fiction alone will eat you alive.
Showrunner:
But the story is over, don’t you get it?! Anything past that will be a disgusting
shadow of its former glory!
Executive:
This is TV – nothing is ever over. You
want it to end on your terms, you should’ve written a novel.
Showrunner:
But none of the cool people I want as fans would read it!
Assistant:
If I may interject?
Executive:
Oh, forgot you were here; go ahead.
Assistant:
This show may be the perfect opportunity to use the Test Studio.
Executive:
Oh, right, forgot that was here, too.
(To Showrunner) Interested?
Showrunner:
I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Executive:
You heard in the news about the mini-black hole discovered right here on Earth
recently, yes?
Showrunner:
Yeah, it’s messed up literally everything – so?
Executive:
Well, our studio bought it and –
Showrunner:
What?!
Assistant:
We decided to utilize it to create a Television Test Studio, sort of like a
test kitchen without the disastrous consequences. (Takes out a computer tablet and displays
convoluted diagrams) Turns out the black hole leads to an alternate universe
with an Earth just like ours in every way, except not everyone there’s left-handed
for some reason.
Executive:
It’s a real drag.
Assistant:
So, we can produce your show on that Earth for five seasons and judge the
reactions of that audience to see if it would work here, without any of the
risk or potential loss of profit on this end.
Showrunner:
(Stares at the diagrams) This is a life-altering, universe-impacting discovery,
and you’re using it to test a TV show?!
Executive:
I know, isn’t it great?! It’ll save us a
fortune!
Assistant:
And time: there’s some kind of temporal dilation once you cross the event
horizon, so we can do the five years over there and then come back here with
extremely minimal loss of time on this end.
Showrunner:
But we’d get older!
Assistant:
Over there, yeah, but we’d supposedly get the years back when we come over here
again, kind of like changing time zones or what-not.
Showrunner:
I don’t think that’s how it works.
Assistant:
What can I tell you: I don’t science, I television.
Executive:
So, are you in?
Showrunner:
I don’t know, this is all so weird….
Executive:
You want your series baby see the light of day or not?
Showrunner:
Where do I sign?
FIVE YEARS LATER
(In
an Alternate Earth office, Executive and Assistant are seated at a desk across
from Showrunner)
Executive:
So! Reviews for last night’s episode are
in.
Showrunner:
(Slumped in the seat) I know, and I don’t want to read them.
Executive:
Oh come on, it’s gotta be a little flattering to read all those
embittered fans saying you’ve lost your way – means they loved you at some
point!
Showrunner:
They called the show a dumpster fire and wondered how I could’ve written such a
great first season if all the others are such obvious money-grabs!
Executive:
Yes, but those same people still give us their money to watch it, so that’s
really on them.
Showrunner:
They said the show should’ve ended after Season 1! I told you this would happen – they
hate it, and now they hate me, not you!
Executive:
Calm yourself: they’re still buying the other seasons en masse; I fail to see
why you’re letting a few trolls get you down.
Showrunner:
They’re the same fans who loved Season 1!
Executive:
Audiences can be a fickle crew.
Showrunner:
And you even lost money when you made me write Season 3 to take place
entirely in the characters’ minds! The
CGI was eye-bleedingly terrible, and all the actors wanted higher salaries
because they were practically doing one-person shows! In pantomime!
Executive:
Yes, I did hate giving into the divas, but we’d’ve lost half the audience if
any of those guys had walked out before we got a chance to kill them off between
seasons.
Showrunner:
That’s another thing! You knew the lead
villain was supposed to die at the end of Season 1 because the story was over,
but you said the audience loved him too much so I had to keep resurrecting him
even though it made no sense! The
actor’s been begging me to kill the character for years because he can’t make
it believable anymore!
Executive:
Well, then he clearly does not take his craft seriously.
Showrunner:
Whatever. Series finale is next week and
it can’t come soon enough; I just won't read anything about how much everyone
hated it, that’s all.
Executive:
Yeah, about that: the show’s still trending in the top 10, so I’d like at least
two more seasons to maximize our returns – three, if I can be greedy.
Showrunner:
(Stares in horror) It has been bled beyond dry.
The critics are right: I have been making this up as I go along,
for years!
Executive:
True, but they don’t need to have that theory confirmed, do they?
Showrunner:
What am I gonna do with these characters for another 20 episodes?! They’ve already saved the world 100 times,
plus they’ve all hooked up with each other and had 15 babies with three more on
the way; what’s next, they colonize Mars?!
Executive:
(Starts writing on a notepad) Ooh, that’s a great idea –
Showrunner:
(Slams hand on the desk) No!
No-no-no! You’ve already warped
my beautiful creation into an unrecognizable mass of rubbish; this madness ends
now!
Assistant:
If I may interject?
Executive:
Oh, sorry, forgot you were here; go ahead.
Assistant:
I think our testing phase is complete and has effectively demonstrated that
this show should only have one season.
Executive:
Oh, right, also forgot that’s what we’ve been doing here. (To Showrunner) All right, you win: the
viewers have clearly spoken and want just the one perfect season, so we’ll go
back to our universe now and go do that.
Showrunner:
(Bleary-eyed) I don’t even remember why we came here.
APPROXIMATELY FOUR
YEARS EARLIER
(In
the Prime Earth office, Executive and Assistant are seated at a desk across
from Showrunner)
Executive:
Well, well, well! It’s not often that
I’m wrong, but I do admit when I am – the show was a smashing success,
the viewers are sad that it’s over but continue to rave about how awesome it
was, and our ratings have never been higher, all thanks to you!
Showrunner:
Wow. Thank you for saying that: this
past year’s been an immense relief, let me tell you, and fulfilling on a deep,
personal level, if I might add.
Executive:
I wish you wouldn’t.
Assistant:
If I may interject?
Executive:
You always do.
Assistant:
Now that this show is completely over, we have been looking at the possibility
of at least 10 spin-offs –
(Showrunner
face plants onto the desk)
Executive:
Oh, don’t be so glum – we have a whole alternate universe Test Studio to try
them out in first!
