Grid Effect

It appears we now have two classic television series’ with a good chance of being adapted for the big screen: Arrested Development & Friends. I use the word “classic” to describe both of these shows, so you know just how vague the term actually is. It could really mean anything! Huzzah!

Both should make some decent coin, as Friends has an overwhelmingly sycophantic, predictable audience that will laugh at anything, while Arrested Development carries a very vocal, very pretentious and often times very annoying but loyal fan base. Take me for example, I’m currently wearing a Bluth Frozen Banana t-shirt with a giant sprinting banana on the back. When I wear it in public, people think it’s some sort of allegiance to the gay community. Do I look at them with disdain and an air of superiority because of their blatant homophobia? No. I look at them with disdain and an air of superiority because they’re fucking morons for not watching a TV show I watch.

So yes, I will be there, opening night, scowling at all the patrons in line for the latest Adam Sandler or Julia Roberts vehicle that has an opening weekend concurrent with AD’s. Thing is, I think they only averaged about two million viewers an episode which would tally roughly $20 million box office. I’ve turned about ten people on to AD since its cancellation, if everyone of the two million strong did the same then that number should increase…But yeah, in actuality, they might need to release this in the early spring so it doesn’t get slaughtered.

If the Bluth family were real, this is how they would spend their days.

As for the Friends movie, I can’t even fathom the things I would do to not see this. Luckily this is a free society and to avoid seeing it I just avoid seeing it. But if someone were to put a gun to my head and gave me the ultimatum to either set an animal shelter on fire, see Friends or meet my maker…then I’m afraid some puppies would have to die.

It’s clear the only reason everyone in the cast is on board is in direct response to the cast’s limited post-Friends success. And that, in and of itself, is hardly a reason to shell out $10 for an adaptation of a pretty formulaic TV show that I hardly ever watched in the first place. The movie will probably be hesitantly accepted by its fans, like they know it’s bad but they don’t want to admit it. You ever hear a die hard Sex and The City fan reflect on the movie? And I don’t mean the fembot NYC drones that shape their lives around this show, I mean like real people? It always begins with, “It wasn’t like the TV show…” and then ends with, “…But yeah, yeah, it was fun”, like their conscious won’t allow them to out and out hate the movie. This is verbatim, how I imagine the reaction to the Friends movie being.

If you happen to dislike both of these shows, but are a fan of 24, Lost, Desperate Housewives, CSI or whatever the hell else ABC airs nowadays, then don’t worry, I have a hunch that your favorite characters will get their theatrical release soon enough.

This is the final chapter of our strung out for blog posts epic. We’d like to say this worked out well, doing impromptu fictional posts about real executives at NBC, but if anything, it proved we need to do an outline before attempting this again, and we need to get our name off of this website.

Silverman: Why? Do you need a loan after your losing run last night.

Ebersol: Not exactly….Uh, where’s Bob?

Silverman: Just sleeping it off in the other room. All the women left a couple hours ago.

Ebersol:  Well, let me just get to the point then. The network began to see you not as a potential asset, but as a liability. And given your often decadent lifestyle, they wanted me to catch you in a compromising position so they would have enough leverage to force you out quietly.

Silverman: Wow. I did feel like something was afoot.

Ebersol: You’re kidding, how?

Silverman: Come on, Dick! You’re a smart guy, there’s no way you could have possibly thought that doing an ad campaign for NBC sports would boost our ratings.

Ebersol: (Collapses head in hands) I fucking knew that would seem like bullshit.

Silverman: Relax, at least you came clean about it.

Ebersol: Anyway, this is the recorder they gave me, it probably caught a bit of you last night though I haven’t confirmed that.

Silverman: This fucking thing. Were you wearing this the whole time?

Ebersol: Just from dinner on.

Silverman: Jesus!

Ebersol: I’m sorry, Ben.

Silverman: Is it sending a feed to a van out in the parking lot or something?

Ebersol: No, I think it’s just a digital recorder, not a transmitter.  Is this going to be a problem?

Silverman steps on recording device, rips the wires for it in half.

Silverman: Not anymore.

Ebersol: Look, what do you want me to say to them. I’ll deliver any message you ask.

Silverman: Let me handle it. Can I ask, why did you come clean? You had all the incentive in the world to just play the middle man.

Ebersol: A series of things, I saw what you did for Bob, you actually kept your word and were willing to meet this morning, and you seem to have a decent case against the rest of the board, even though I think you’re handling it incorrectly.

Silverman: Was this all Jeff’s idea?

Ebersol: Not at all. I mean, he authorized it. But was reluctant to do so. It seemed to mostly be Rich and Marc Graboff’s doing. Everyone else kind of passively agreed with a little insistence from Mike.

Silverman: Wow, none of that surprises me.

Costas: (Yawn) It’s tired in here.

Silverman: Go back to bed Bob, You’ll need the sleep for what I have planned tonight.

Costas: I’m just getting some juice.

Costas returns to his bedroom.

Ebersol: Are you sure you want to take care of this on your own?

Cut to the following Monday morning, Zucker invites Silverman in for a one on one, still hasn’t heard from Ebersol.

Silverman: So what did you want to talk about?

Zucker: Your behavior as of late.

Silverman: Mine? Shit, you should have seen Costas this weekend.

Zucker: That was isolated. Your continuous disregard for our opinions, your crass, drunken malaise, we do not have the time or success for such insubordination.

Silverman: Dick couldn’t produce anything, huh?

Zucker: Excuse me? What would he produce, exactly?

Silverman: I found the recorder and destroyed it. Now since your ploy fell through, you are trying to reason with me. Well, I can tell you right now, I’m not going to be placated. At last not easily.

Zucker: I still have no idea what you’re talking about.

Silverman: Yes you do. And the only way you’re going to make this right is to one, fire Rich Cotton. And two,  extend my contract through 2015.

Zucker: Not going to happen. Besides, what evidence do you have?

Silverman: Don’t need any, you just cannot have the media shitstorm that will ensue if it becomes public that you were trying to force me out. I might as well be making the whole thing up, but since you and I both know its true, you probably want to keep it from getting out.

Zucker: Well go ahead.

Silverman: Come on, Jeff. I know it wasn’t your idea, but when you are staring down everyone at these meetings, it’s hard to say no.

Zucker: 2012.

Silverman: 2014.

Zucker: 2013. (Holds out hand to shake)

Silverman: (reciprocates) We’ve got a deal. I want that motherfucker out of here by the end of the day though.

Zucker: (Into Intercom) Can you send Rich Cotton in here please?

Receptionist: Right away.

Zucker: Christ, what have I done?

Silverman: You know it’s the right move.

Silverman leaves, and passes Cotton on the way out.

Silverman: Enjoy the WB, dickhead.

Cotton: Huh?

And so ends our national nightmare. I hope at least someone enjoyed this nonsensical rambling. Still, don’t blame me….well blame me, but blame the state of television for giving us so little to work with that we’re forced to dredge up this tripe.

Part six, hopefully we can squeeze it all in here, if not, then expect the final installment tomorrow morning, that’s assuming anyone is still reading this blog (or ever was). Again, this is entirely, 100% fictional. There is absolutely no truth to any of this, and it is strictly for comedic purposes. Find the other parts to this saga, here.

While at a private booth with multiple women, Ebersol, Costas & Silverman bask in the drunken privilege that NBC has afforded them.

Costas: This is turning into a splendid evening, Mr. Ebersol. I’d like to thank you for inviting us.

Ebersol: My pleasure, Bob.

Costas: Furthermore, I’d just like to add that should we successfully engage in a sexual encounter with one of thes-

Ebersol: Jesus fucking Christ Bob would you stop being so fucking formal all the time. This isn’t a purity ball.

Silverman: Riotous Laughter

Costas: No problem, uh, man.

Ebersol remembers what his initial plans were for NBC, turns on audio/video recorder

Ebersol (To Silverman): So, like, what’s the plan here, Ben?

Silverman: The plan? The plan for what, Dick?

Ebersol: You know, do we pay these girls? Or what is it that the kids do nowadays?

Silverman (bemused): These girls? No, we don’t have to pay them. We’re paying them right now.

Ebersol: I see. So, at our whim, they’re willing to go upstairs?

Silverman: Well, not at our whim. They’re not hookers and we don’t own them. But with very little effort, they will willingly do so.

Ebersol: That tall one seems to be taking a liking to Bob.

Silverman: That’s Julie, she has a dwarfism fetish…Not that he’s a dwarf, but she’s so tall that to sweat the details would be splitting hairs.

Ebersol: Good point. And I doubt he’ll care anyways. I doubt he even remembers he is married right now.

Silverman: So what do you care, anyways? I always heard you steered clear of infidelity.

Costas: Look, look at this! I’ll chug this entire red bull vodka, without stopping even once.

Proceeds to drink very slowly

Ebersol: I’m asking for Bob’s sake.

Silverman: Right… (Directs attention towards group) Anyone else want to go back up to the room, we’ve got a couple bottles on ice and this music is intolerable.

Everyone agrees because everyone else agreed

Costas: (Finishes chugging drink) Fucking done. You see that Dick, huh? You see that? Is that fucking informal enough for you? Huh, Dick?

Ebersol responds with a flummoxed look of curiosity.

Silverman: Easy Bob. We’re heading upstairs you coming with?

Costas flashes look over to Julie

Costas: Of course, Ben.

Silverman: (Directed towards Ebersol) How about you?

Ebersol: I’m sorry, I might be catatonic after that little display. But, uh, no, I’m going to play a little blackjack. I’ll catch up with ya’ll later.

Two hours pass before Ebersol goes back up to the room to find Silverman, Costas & the three women naked on the bed in the main bedroom.

Ebersol: Holy shit!

Costas: Look at this Mr. Ebersol. (Runs face across two of the womens chest’s) That is four tits, Dick. Four tits.

Ebersol: Great, Bob.

Silverman: (Taking one of the women doggystyle) Hey, look who’s back. You have any luck at the table?

Ebersol: I’m down a couple hundred.

Silverman: That’s a shame, you want to take out some of your frustrations over here. I’m sure no one will mind.

Ebersol: No, no, it’s way past my bedtime.

Silverman: Yeah, you should get some rest for this meeting we’re going to have in the next ohhhh, four hours.

Ebersol heads off to bed and looks at the recorder he completely forgot he was wearing. Contemplates the ramifications of said recorder before going to bed.

The following morning Ebersol arises to find Silverman already awake

Silverman: Good morning Dick. I’m not going to lie, I feel like I was hit by a truck. But let’s get this show on the road. Hey, what’s that in your hand?

Ebersol: (Holding recorder in hand) We need to talk…

Our seventh and final post later tomorrow. We’ll never be happier than when we finish this thing.

Here’s part five of what will be our six or seven part adventure in NBC executive land series. We’ll wrap it up tomorrow or Wednesday, since even we’re boring ourselves with this.

We open with Bob Costas, Dick Ebersol & Ben Silverman entering their suite at the Bellagio.

Costas: Wow. What a lovely, temporary living quarters. I am most certainly going to make use of this jacuzzi. What do you think, Ben?

Silverman: It ain’t bad. Hey, what’s in the mini bar?

Costas: Oh wooow, it is chock full of varying flavors of soda and assorted candies.

Silverman: That’s dynamite. Is there any Bombay?

Dick Ebersol emerges from the secondary bathroom

Ebersol: Easy there, cowboy. We still have a little work to do.

Silverman: Are you fucking kidding me? I thought we got everything out of the way on the plane.

Ebersol: That is true Ben, but we still haven’t come to any sort of agreement.

Silverman: No, you wanted me to run promos for our struggling prime time series’ during non-Olympic figure skating, and I decided that since no one watches that shit east or west of eastern Europe, that we were going to have to pass.

Ebersol: Excuse me Mr. Silverman, but the numbers don’t supp…

Silverman: …Support my claim blah, blah, blah. Look, I don’t want to argue about something that Jeff Zucker and his band of cronies are obviously forcing you to do. We’re in Vegas, man, you wouldn’t let me drink on the plane so now I just want to get my kicks in now. Leave the business for the morning.

Ebersol: That’s because you showed up for the flight drunk. And you were late. And you spent the entire flight vomiting in the bathroom.

Silverman: I wasn’t drunk, I just get sick flying. And the alcohol is a home remedy that’s always worked in the past.

Ebersol: You promise we’ll talk some more business tomorrow morning? And that nothing will interfere with our discussion.

Silverman: Scouts honor.

Ebersol: It’s 2pm now, why don’t we grab some lunch.

Silverman: First lets make a quick drink, then we’ll hit up the tables for a few hands, try to get our lunch covered.

Ebersol: it is all covered, if not by NBC then by the hotel.

Silverman: Yeah, but still…

Costas enters from unpacking suitcase from bedroom

Costas: Mr. Ebersol. Did you see the jacuzzi? Doesn’t it look stupendous?

Ebersol: It certainly does. Look I’m going to take a nap, these old legs can’t keep pace with you young bucks. Why don’t you guys get a little blackjack in and I’ll meet up with you around five or six for dinner?

Silverman Sounds like a plan, you ready to go Bobby?

Costas: I’m not one for blackjack, but surely I can find a nearby slot machine.

Silverman: I’ll teach you how to play, man. Someone as smart as yourself will pick it up in no time.

They converse as they walk out the door

Costas: Is it anything like Old Maid…

Door slams as they leave, Ebersol frantically begins to set up the digital recording device that was given to him by Rick Cotton to his person. “Perfect”, he thinks to himself.

Cut to dinner, as Silverman and Costas approach the table.

Ebersol: So, how did we do.

Silverman: Up.

Ebersol: Really, how much?

Silverman: Let’s put it this way, even if the trip wasn’t comped, it would be now.

Costas: I won $325 Mr. Ebersol!

Silverman: Bobby was betting the table limit, being a newcomer and all.

Ebersol: And what were you playing with?

Silverman: Let’s just say it is well into five figures and leave it at that.

Waitress walks by

Silverman: Oh-hey-waitress!

Waitress: Yes.

Silverman: Do you think I could trouble you for a drink. A bombay and tonic. Thanks.

Waitress: I am not waiting on you guys tonight, but I will be sure to tell the woman who is.

The waitress begins walking away

Costas: Get me one too!

Silverman: Atta boy, Bobby.

Ebersol: Just how drunk are you guys?

Silverman: I had four or five of the same thing at the table. Bobby started off with apple juice but after he won a few hands he had a couple margaritas.

Costas: They were magnificent, sir. It was like the first time I ate pop rocks.

Ebersol: You know, if you pretended to give a shit about your career, you might actually excel in it.

Silverman: You said we were done for the day.

Ebersol: I’m not talking about now, just in general. If you showed up occasionally sober, or even just pretended like you respect anyone else’s opinion, you might actually be able to get us out of the gutter.

Silverman: It’s systemic at this point. The only way we’re getting out of last place is if someone murders Simon Cowell and JJ Abrams finally quits making absurd shit up on Lost. Then we might see a boost in ratings.

Costas (Lets out an audible yawn): It’s tired in here.

Ebersol: I see.

Silverman: As far as showing up sober is concerned, outside of Zucker, none of those guys wanted me there in the first place. And now even he is on the fence. So I’ll say to you what I said to them, I’m riding this wave for all it is worth, then when they knock me off of it, I’ll still have my production company to fall back on.

Ebersol resides himself to shock, but is more amazed that he actually finds himself half-agreeing with Silverman. The waitress returns with their drinks. Ebersol takes Costas’

Silverman: Rest up Bobby, I got us a table at Pure for tonight.

Part six tomorrow.

Here’s part four of our NBC executive tale, catch part three here.

Costas: China is looking to be an achievement in broadcasting, things are going squarely.

Ebersol: That’s great. Let me know if there’s anything I can assist you with.

Costas: Absolutely, Mr. Ebersol. Hopefully I won’t have to burden you with any of our petty concerns.

Ebersol: If you do, just feel free to ask. In the meantime, I figured before you are whisked away to the other side of the world, we might as well afford a “company outing” to Vegas.

Costas: Vegas?

Ebersol: Yeah, Vegas. We can get comped over at Bellagio, company perk for hosting the heads up tournament.

Costas: As you know Mr. Ebersol, I’m not much for the table games, but “Tony and Tina’s Wedding” is playing at the Rio Hotel and Casino…

Ebersol: Certainly, we can take the shuttle off the strip.

Costas: Superb!

Ebersol: You know who else I think would enjoy “Tony and Tina’s Wedding”?

Costas: Who would that be, Mr. Ebersol?

Ebersol: Mr. Silverman, the recently hired Entertainment president. Have you guys ever met?

Costas: Of course, sir. Mr. Silverman and I are wondrous friends. Would you like me to invite him along?

Ebersol: Yeah…but don’t tell him it’s at my behest. And make sure he understands that the trip is business related, I want to run a few things by him, see how they take. Besides, we need three employees for the company per diem.

Costas: Understood, Mr. Ebersol. Are you two going to be needing your own room?

Ebersol: Very funny, Bob.

Costas: Pardon my tom foolery, Mr. Ebersol. Sometimes I allow myself to get carried away.

Ebersol: You are a handful…Let Mr. Silverman know that the plane leaves on Friday afternoon. It’s a chartered flight, obviously.

Costas: Sure thing Mr. Ebersol. I’ll call him right away.

Ebersol: I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then.

Costas: Good day, sir.

Bob Costas hangs up to immediately call Ben Silverman

Silverman: (slurring) This is Silverman.

Costas: Hello Ben, it’s your good friend Bob Costas.

Silverman: Bobbyyyyyy, how they hangin’, my good man. (Random girl proceeds to perform oral sex on him)

Costas: ehahaha, How’s what hanging, Mr. Silverman? I don’t understand.

Silverman: Your fuckin’ nuts, Bobby! Slightly to the left, slightly to the right, are they all chest out or feebly dangling from your upper torso?

Costas: Anatomically speaking sir, the testicles while encased by the scrotum, generally maintain the same disposition, that fluctuates with bodily movement, arousal and a multitude of potential pre-existent or current medical conditions.

Silverman: Fair enough, Bob. What’s on your mind? (Does line of coke)

Costas: NBC has given me carte blanche to charter a jet to Las Vegas for the weekend, before I’m shipped off to China for the Olympic games.

Silverman: Vegas…just you and I?

Costas: And Mr. Ebersol, we have plans to see “Tony and Tina’s Wedding” among oth-

Silverman: Gee, Bob, I don’t know if I can squeeze it in.

Costas: We’d really enjoy your company, Mr. Silverman. And since we’re being comped, we won’t nee-

Silverman: I’m in.

Costas: Fantastic, our flight leaves tomorrow afternoon, punctuality is of the essence.

Silverman: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll see you then Bob. (Hangs up phone, buries head in stripper’s chest)

Costas: This is great news Mr. Silverman. I’ll see you..

Hears dial tone

Costas: Oh….Must have been a bad connection!

Part five on Monday, this has already gone on too long, we’ll finish early next week.

Here’s part three of our NBC executive series of an undetermined length. We’re kind of making this up as we write it, it’s like Lost in that regard. Except we’re not leaving the door open for any possible time travel.

Rich Cotton: Come on in, Dick. I have some good news for you.

Dick Ebersol: Are we getting the NBA back?

Cotton: Not only that, but we’re throwing out our hockey contract, and looking to expand NFL beyond the one Sunday night game.

Ebersol: (elated) Are you serious? Well, that’s great news!

Marc Graboff: That’s right, we’re finally going to get you out of the poker room.

Ebersol: Holy shit! You know, this couldn’t have come a moment too soon. If we’re being honest with each other…I had been rather depressed lately, and just when I thought nothing was going to swing my way, you guys announce that we’re finally going to get some actual leagues under contract.

(Everyone except for Zucker and Ebersol bursts into laughter after a short pause)

Ebersol: What’s so funny?

Cotton: (Attempts to contain laughter) I-, I-, I’m sorry, Dick. But we’re just yanking your chain. No, no, it’s back to the race track with you.

Ebersol: (Defeated) Oh….Well, is there anything you actually need, sir?

Cotton: Actually, yes. How well do you know Be-. Well, maybe I should let Mr. Zucker explain.

(Rich Cotton motions over to Jeff Zucker, who’s noticeably distracted and uneasy)

Michael Bass: (Breaking awkward silence) How familiar are you with Ben Silverman?

Ebersol: The Entertainment Chief? Uh, vaguely. We talked for a bit at the Heroes rap party. He seemed amiable enough. Why?

Cotton: We need you to…assist us with something.

Ebersol: Well, what exactly do you need assistance with? And how is Ben Silverman involved? And where is he if it’s so important?

Michael Bass: We just need you to hang out with him. Socially. On his terms. And let us know what happens.

Ebersol: (long dramatic pause) What is this?…You want to get rid of him…And you want me to be an accomplice? Well fuck that, Rich! I’m no fucking snitch.

Jeff Zucker: We have reason to believe that he has quite the affinity for…working girls.

Ebersol: You mean…

Cotton: Yes, that’s exactly what we mean. You have daughters, right, Dick. How would you feel, if one of your daughters was in these girls’ position and Mr. Silverman was taking advantage of it?

Ebersol: (Sternly) I’d be upset. To say the least.

Graboff: So, do something about it? You have a chance to improve this network from the inside out.

Ebersol (contemplating): Alright, its not like I have anything else to do.

Cotton: That’s the spirit.

Ebersol: This is all great in theory. But how do I actually put it into practice? I mean, Ben and I are barely on speaking terms. How do I approach him for anything unrelated to work?

Cotton: Well, it isn’t like the two of you hate each other. And it isn’t like you couldn’t pretend it’s related to work. First invite Costas out to Bellagio. Tell him they are comping you, and if they won’t then we’ll stake and anyone else who tags along. All expenses paid. Then you insist that Costas invite Silverman, as those two seem to get along decently. Tell Bob it’s work related and you have some marketing ideas you want to run by the two of them.

Ebersol: That might actually work…

Cotton: You take this recorder, and capture everything you can. Preferably anything that would be construed as incriminating.

Ebersol: Jesus. You’re a cold motherfucker.

Cotton: This is the job.

Ebersol: Of course.

Michael Bass: Do not, and I repeat, Do Not! Let Ben see this camera. It’s virtually microscopic, so the only way he should find it is if he starts tearing off your clothes.

Ebersol: I got it, I got it. But we have to let this happen naturally. I don’t want to put it into effect tonight, we might wait until the weekend.

Graboff: That’s actually a good idea. He walked out of here a little perturbed, Mr. Cotton. If he suddenly gets a call from Bob Costas inviting him out to Vegas to gamble, he might be a tad suspicious.

Cotton: Now you’re thinking, Ebersol. You’re right, we want to catch him with his guard down.

(Cotton notices Zucker, still feeling conflicted)

Cotton: Look, this is all progressing nicely. But I think we pretty much have everything figured out. Could you, uh, give us the room here, Dick.

Ebersol: Not a problem.

(Ebersol begins to leave)

Michael Bass: Oh, and Dick?

Ebersol: (Turns around) Yeah?

Michael Bass: Lets keep this amongst ourselves. No spousal interference, alright?

Ebersol: Sure, Michael. Whatever you say.

Cotton: What’s the problem, boss? Still feeling torn.

Zucker: No, not torn. But definitely amoral. Wasn’t Ben supposed to be a prodigy? And now were trying using entrapment to show him his walking papers.

Michael Bass: Jeff, it’s really for the best. We need new blood in here, preferably someone who will take the job seriously.

Lynn Calpeter: Yeah, I’m inclined to agree, Mr Zucker. Our budget is like a sinking black hole right now. If this keeps up for another year or so, we could end up in the negative. I mean, some of the costs of these shows: FNL, Heroes, Chuck…and now Alec Baldwin wants his contract renewed? That hard-headed prick isn’t going to come cheap, I can guarantee you that.

Graboff: Besides, it was your idea in the first place…

Zucker: Look, I’m not canceling anything. I’m just saying, with the nature of this business, it sometimes takes its toll on you. We’ve been struggling in the ratings department before Ben was here. I guess, I guess I just thought things would turn out differently, that’s all.

CUT TO THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY MORNING

Ebersol: (On the phone) Hey, Bob! How are things looking for us in China…

Part four tomorrow.

This is the part two of the explosive NBC executive meeting. You can find part one here..

Rich Cotton: Well, that all depends on what you want to see happen.

Jeff Zucker: I think we’re all in agreement, we want him out of this office, and we want to look righteous in doing so. But nothing too complicated or strung out, just a quick, clean break and we can go our separate ways.

Cotton: Fair enough, this shouldn’t be too difficult.

Marc Chini: As your HR representative I must strongly advise against this…so I’m going to leave the room.

Zucker: Fair enough, Marc. Thanks, for your input.

(Chiri and Zucker wink at each other)

EXIT MARC CHINI.

Michael Bass: This is probably a good time to mention, anyone who doesn’t want to take part in this ruse, please excuse yourselves from the office. We’d appreciate your help, but we understand if your morals are inflexible for something like this.

(Everyone stares blankly)

Cotton: Good. Now we won’t need everyone to participate, but we do need everyone to be as discrete as possible. This means no airing our plan to spouses or significant others for head, no getting drunk and blurting it out to friends, we need as much anonymity as possible.

Zucker: I think we’re all in agreement. Now, what exactly do you have in mind?

Cotton: My plan? We do nothing.

Zucker: Are you fucking retarded? What does that even mean?

Cotton: Well, not exactly nothing. But we let the man’s lifestyle be his downfall, we just make sure there is someone there to film or photograph it when it happens.

John Eck: This isn’t a plan, just an idea. Anyone could have come up with this!

Marc Graboff: No wonder your just a vice president.

Cotton: Look, we don’t need his body on a slab, just a little foul play in a public setting to have the leverage to get rid of him.

Zucker: Don’t you see how this makes us look bad in the process? We look incompetent for hiring someone so incapable of meeting the job description. I will not have my image tarnished like that. I’m the president of NBC! No malcontent is going to make me look foolish.

Cotton: Collateral damage. To salvage what’s left of your reputation and to get this network out of the gutter, we need to do something drastic. Right now, with all due respect sir, you are putting the cart before the horse. We can’t improve or save your legacy until we get rid of Ben Silverman.

Eck: All we need is a patsy to put the wheels in motion, which may happen to be one of us. Ben’s too coked up 90% of the time to pick up on any of this.

Cotton: We cannot let this plan extend beyond this office, it has to be one of us. It’s simple, we all know his penchant for prostitutes. Just offer to pick up the tab, then when it comes time to pay, just claim you forgot your wallet and you’ll reimburse him the following day. Meanwhile, before he gets to the hotel, we set up a camera in the room this tryst will take place in. The footage has to establish a money for sex transaction, or else this is all null and void. The recording has to speak for itself. We can’t look like we are trying to force him out.

(Everyone’s a bit flummoxed at the thoroughness of the plan, and momentarily speechless)

Graboff: How long have you been thinking about this?

Cotton: Are we or are we not all on board with the plan? Quit feeding me platitudes and rhetorical questions if we’re serious about getting this guy out of our network.

Zucker: (Contemplates the proposition by Rick for a considerable amount of time) Yeah, but, can I really do this? This is a man’s life and reputation we’re talking about. I mean, he did bring us Chuck.

Cotton: Chuck? He brought us Chuck? You mean that show that aired about eight times to mediocre ratings before the writers strike ended its first season prematurely?

Zucker: Did you see the reviews for it? People were bound to come around.

Michael Bass: We don’t know that, Jeff. And even if we did, it’s one show out of how many. All our Thursday night comedies and FNL all receive rave reviews, but none of them crack the top ten in Nielsen’s. You know what occasionally does? Deal or No Deal.

Zucker…Alright, put it in motion. But before we go public with whatever we find, we give him the option to leave quietly.

Cotton: Fine, sounds fair.

Lynn Calpeter: So who do we send? None of us are all that close with him, and even if we were it’s not like it wouldn’t seem unusual, one of us accompanying him socially.

Michael Bass: We send Ebersol. It’s not like he ever has shit to do anyways.

Graboff: (Without skipping a beat, and into intercom) Stacy, could you get Dick Ebersol in here, please.

Stacy: Right away, Mr. Silverman.

Graboff: This is Mr. Graboff, Stacy. Am I slurring? Do I sound like I spent all night recreating Requiem For A Dream?

Stacy: My apologies, Mr. Graboff.

(Hangs up phone)

Eck: Wow, someone is gun-ho about this now.

Graboff: Hey, FUCK YOU, John! You know how much work I do for this network that he gets all the credit for. Green-lighting Chuck was my idea. Mmmmiiinnnee. With that fucking drunkard out of the way, I’ll finally get the credit and RESPECT! I deserve.

Cotton:Easy, Marc, easy. Soon enough we’ll all get what we’re looking for.

ENTER DICK EBERSOL.

Michael Bass: Rich, my boy! How’s everything going in our sports department?

Cotton: (under his breath) Who’s the vice president now, bitch?

To be continued….

Rarely, well never, actually, do we get these kind of insider looks at the entertainment industry. But NBC was gracious enough to grant us access to the process of deciding their fall schedule. To say it was enlightening is an understatement.

Jeff Zucker: Gentleman, welcome. As you all know we have perennially been in last place for some time now, so today we are here to rectify that and hopefully develop some unique, invigorating series to capture the hearts and-

Ben Silverman (enters with icepack on forehead): Oh man, hey, sorry I’m late, man. We had a party going till six this morning over in Rainn Wilson’s hot tub and my head is pounding like Chuck Barris used it on our renewing of The Gong Show.

Michael Bass: We aren’t remaking The Gong Show.

Silverman: Oh, so that’s the one.

Michael Bass: Jesus, Ben, If you’re going to come in here late, hungover and insulting our efforts, you could at least make an effort to lie to us.

Ben Silverman: Why would I bother? You can’t fire me and make this network look like even more of a clusterfuck than it already is. I know you are already looking for a reason to let me go, and the way things are heading, I figure after one more fall season you will have more than enough reason to can my drunk ass. So I’m going to enjoy it.

Zucker: So you’re not going to put forth any effort at all, then? This fucking generation…

Silverman: Look, can we just get the fuck on with it? I’m meaning BJ Novak over at Scores in two hours.

Zucker: Our shareholders are not going to be happy about this should word get out, Ben. We hired you thinking you’d be able to reach the younger demographic, clearly you identify with them but are unable meet their market demands.

Silverman: With all due respect, Zucks, we’re the network that greenlit Bionic Woman, alright, the shareholders have much greater concerns then where I’m gang-banging European hookers with Office cast members.

Richard Cotton: Actually, Ben, that’s exact-

Silverman: I’m sorry, does anyone hear somebody talking? I know the Vice President isn’t trying to tell me what to do and how to act. Now if you fine gentlemen will excuse me, I’m going to get some aspirin.

(Stumbles out of the office, the door shuts)

Jeff Zucker: What the hell are we going to do with him? He’s a fucking disaster.

Marc Chini: First off, let me say that I’m sorry you had to hear all that, Lynn.

Lynn Calpeter: That’s alright, I’m used to it by now.

Chini: Secondly, I think our hands are tied. He’s under contract, and unless we want to shoot ourselves in the foot and watch our respectability plummet even further than it already has, he’s right, we are forced to endure him for at least another year.

Zucker: God damnit, people! How can we let one, sniveling little trust-fund baby completely derail an entire network! I’m the president of NBC! I should be able to do something about this!

Rich Cotton: Well, we can always circumvent the contract.

Zucker: In what way?

(enter Ben Silverman)

Cotton: Oh shit.

Silverman: Hey, what’d I miss?

Michael Bass: Oh, we were just contemplating ways to get rid of you while making us look justified to the public in doing so.

Silverman: (riotous laughter) Good one, Mike. You know, sometimes I get the feeling that you could do mine and your job, better than I can do mine. Guess we’ll never know.

Zucker: Alright, now if we could focus on the main objective here, which is improving our weekly primetime lineups. We need something that can really bring in an audience, preferably a young one. We’ve tried with Friday Night Lights, and for whatever reason that hasn’t panned out. Now we need something a little edgier, a little more risque.

Silverman: Oh, Katims has gotten the message, don’t you worry.

(Collective laughter)

Zucker: Right, but we need more than an improvement on a show no one has been watching. What’s one thing that all these teen shows: Gossip Girl, The OC have in com-

Silverman: Listen, guys, I would love to stay and chat. But the buffet at the city’s finest titty bar has my name all over it. Gentleman…its been real.

Zucker: You said you had two hours.

Silverman: Yeah, I did, didn’t I?

Zucker: So, what changed?

Silverman: My temperament. Listen, good luck with the primetime lineup. If you need me later today I’ll be at America Ferrara’s house, she’s having a barbeque for some friends who made it across the border.

(Exit Silverman)

Zucker: (Deep sigh) Hey Rich, tell me again about this…contract circumvention.

To be continued…

Note: This is all, 100%, fictional.

Did anyone watch anything even partially interesting last night? We watched the Cavs-Celts game, and that had its moments. Especially that end of 3rd quarter score of 53-52, that was interesting, or typical of the shoddy play that we’ve come to expect from the NBA’s eastern conference. These Celtics manage to get less and less inspiring as the time passes. It’s almost like no one other than them was taking the regular season seriously and just biding time until the playoffs began. But alas, they won the game and that is the bottom line, though if you’re a Celtics fan, you’re confidence has to have certainly wavered.

Obviously, we’re completely miffed here. We can dissect the playoffs or pretend to have watched a reality series last night. We’d do a nightly preview, but we already did one for Wednesday two weeks ago and virtually nothing has changed.

Here we are. Even a broken clock is right twice a day or some other more fitting analogy. That link, in case you’re wondering, is a press release of sorts about the new season of Hard Knocks. It goes without saying that this should be a significant improvement on last year’s somewhat uneventful profile of the Kansas City Chiefs.

For those who are unaware of the show or just simply uninterested with the NFL (meaning you’ve probably stopped reading this by now, but what the hell?), Hard Knocks is a miniseries that gives their audience and insiders look at an NFL preseason, or at least whatever the team at large is willing to sign away on. And I have no idea what the makeup of these contracts between HBO and the organizations are (this is the sixth or seventh year they’ve done this), but since this year’s team is the Dallas Cowboys, my guess is that Jerry Jones might want to maintain some executive control.

Glad to see Owens and Dallas fans can set their differences aside for money and wins.

The Cowboys, comprised of probably the most embarrassing tabloid romance in football (Tony Romo-Jessica Simpson), the most emotionally unstable player (Terrell Owens), the Nicky Santoro of the league (Pacman Jones, and that’s assuming he is reinstated), the most aggressive owner and passive successful coach (the aforementioned Jerry Jones and Wade Phillips) and a slew of other characters that includes Roy Williams, Terry Glenn and Tank Johnson. The latter of which has a rap sheet like Paulie Walnuts.

The NFL has been mired in legal issues as of late, and the front office led my commissioner Roger Goodell has been doing everything it can to weed out the bad seeds and demonstrate that they are serious on reprimanding professionally those who break the law. Thing is, they can barely keep up. Essentially the entire Bengals roster is behind bars, and if not they want to leave or are indifferent to their team’s issues. You can go to this website and it reads more like a police blotter than a comedy blog.

It’s also hard to take this new initiative seriously, considering the mess that Paul Taglibue, the current commissioner’s predecessor left behind. The worst instance comes in the case of Leonard Little, who killed a woman while drunk driving and as of last season was still getting considerable playing time for the Rams, who reside in St. Louis where he was convicted of manslaughter. This wasn’t on Goodell’s watch, but it’s hard for the casual fan who doesn’t follow these timelines to overlook when an authority figure says he’s trying to clean up the league and a few days later a murderer is blitzing the quarterback.

So while we’re looking forward to Hard Knocks, Goodell and whoever may give a shit within the Cowboys might want to intervene on the cutting room floor, because when they show Johnson, Pacman and Owens (to be fair, Owens has never been associated with any illegal activity, his insanity has been strictly law abiding) pouring Cristal on a stripper in one of their dorms, it’s just going to being throwing gasoline on a fire. For a league that has already dealt with murder trials, dogfighting, a litany of DUI, possession and domestic abuse cases, a hazing incident gone awry is about the last thing this empire needs.

So, remember when I said a couple days ago that HBO might be unsalvageable without the presence of any original scripted series? Well, umm, yeah (clears throat), we may have been wrong about that, or at least for ninety-one minutes last night When Bob Costas held a panel discussion about how professional sports are handled in the media. We probably could have recommended this yesterday instead of mocking Jeff Probst’s sensibilities. Pssh, whatever. We stand by the decision and offer no apologies.

The format was five different topics consisting of sports talk radio, blogs, television, beat reporters, and race in sports; each segment with their own panel and worthy of it’s own ninety minute discussion, since Costas manages to regularly bring in either qualified perspectives or personalities and didn’t disappoint last night. But the one that was the most contentious and messy was the “discussion” on blogs. We use quotations because it was more of a berating that an actual exchange of thoughts and ideas.

This panel consisted of Braylon Edwards, a wide receiver for the Cleveland Browns, Buzz Bissinger, best known for his novel on the Odessa Perriman football team, “Friday Night Lights”, and Will Leitch, author and editor of the website Deadspin. Deadspin is a sports blog that posts roughly fifteen times a day on varying topics and is probably our biggest distraction at work. It provides a fresh, humorous, almost lighthearted perspective on sports and athletes, gets close to 15,000,000 hits a month and for whatever reason angers those in traditional media.

Well, it’s not for whatever reason, they seem to be vast and misguided for the most part. This hostility can mainly be contributed to three factors: Many members of what’s widely referred to as the “mainstream media” since a growing irrelevance and downsizing of their medium, many think that blogs are salacious and disparaging with no motive, and many of them are just vindictive because of something they’ve read about themselves on blogs.

The host in his younger days, an amiable bloke but we disagree on the topic at hand.

And there is some credence to this, particularly the former. Anyone who watched the final season of The Wire knows how marginalized daily newspapers are becoming, and much of that fact is due to the internet and the incentive people have to update news and provide op-ed material on their own. It’s free, it’s convenient and based on that alone the demand for blogs isn’t going to relent. There is certainly some truth to the latter two, not all blogs are respectable and I’m sure have on occasion (if not regularly) said something uncalled for about a member of the media. And it certainly seems Buzz Bissinger has felt the scorn once or twice in his life, because his vitriol was off the charts.

The debate essentially consisted of Buzz screaming like a lunatic, Costas cutting him short way too late and asking for Leitch to explain himself, while Braylon Edwards mostly sat uncomfortably and waited for Costas to ask him his opinion (he did twice). But the biggest issue we take with Buzz is how misinformed and unfair he was. First of all, he did everything he could to lump all blogs together, which is just asinine. Will Leitch has no judicial control over what content is on any other blog other than his own. That would be like blaming the New York Times for something written by the Washington Post, what does one have to do with the other? I think Buzz was just struggling with the concept that when he goes from one webpage to the next with relative ease he is reading two, separate unrelated perspectives, which is what makes web-based content so appealing to so many.

And to his credit he brought in quotes and pieces from Deadspin itself to voice his discontent. But he managed to take everything out of context and seemingly did so intentionally. This just accentuated his self-righteousness. It all came to a head when he cherry-picked a quote that if read by itself is much more likely to be construed as offensive when the rest of the article wasn’t included. But when he accused Leitch for every blog on the internet not being 100% accurate, he accredited the article he was quoting from to the wrong author. The irony was rich if also infuriating and befuddling.

Costas, while doing his best to seem neutral, certainly seemed to have a predetermined opinion on the subject, asking Leitch to explain the commenters on his website (which more often than not seems to devolve into a tedious game of one-upsmanship ),, and subsequently asked him if he would hypothetically rummage through someone’s trash or used something someone else found from someone’s trash as a story. This probably more than anything else dictated the tone of the “debate”.

Edwards offered a little support for Mr. Leitch, but for the most part used a story about photos on the website of Matt Leinhart drinking at one of his I’m sure many house parties. Edwards isn’t the issue, however, just a bystander caught in the middle of a greater battle. His opinion basically stemmed from his noticeable paranoia about being caught in such a situation and was taking it personally. The issue is people are genuinely curious about professional athletes, and it’s not like these guys are hounded by paparazzi everywhere they go.

Leinhart threw a house party, invited several people into his house I’m sure he was unfamiliar with, someone snapped a photo of him getting drunk with some coeds (who turned out to be under 21, if that counts for anything), said person sent it into a website and Leitch chose to run a post about it because your average fan is curious what Matt Leinhart’s life might be like off the field. It’s that simple. Is Leitch not supposed to run it because he should be worried about offending the quarterback? Leitch’s primary concern is entertaining his readers while they trudge through another bland day at work, not protecting the reputation the quarterback on his favorite NFL team. It seems like if this is something you are tremendously offended by then it’s a pretty quick fix: don’t read it.

One would think we’d be even more incensed with HBO after the essential sandbagging they did to one of our favorite sportswriters, but we’re not. We can’t really explain why, but the contention between blogs and traditional media is most heated in the sports world and they provided a forum for a debate that is long overdue, even if it was 80% one-sided.

We could write about not only the internet segment, but the other four for hours on end, but this is a television blog and were only able to write about it on a technicality (the special was on television). But just know that if you watched the segment and found yourself agreeing with Bissinger and never read Deadspin, here is the follow-up story from Will Leitch on the experience and the article that Bissinger quoted from. You can decide for yourself if this seems like credible entertainment or just interesting content. We’d argue both, but we’re just a lowly blogger so please disregard anything we say as “unqualified”. Since apparently it requires so many credentials to state an opinion that any rationale human being could find reasonable.

Sorry for the tangent, Survivor recap tomorrow.