(From a column I wrote for a small North Carolina newspaper back in the early 90s.)
The slate of coming attractions will be rounded off by the heartwarming family drama, Mia and Woody, and a possible Amy Fisher sequel, I Love the Warden, And the Warden Loves Me.
In addition to providing us with (yuk-yuk) top-notch entertainment, the sale of film rights to these tales provides otherwise ordinary folks like us, folks whose lives are instantly magnified and Magnavoxed, with some heavy-duty compensation. Some Hollywood yoyo recently paid out a half million dollars to a lady scalded by hot coffee.
Well, naturally, this got me thinking. I've led a full life. I actually saw John Madden's bus once - it was traveling the other way on I-40 - and I could always use another half million bucks. So, why not hop that Hollywood freight and sell the rights to some of my greatest moments? Yes... why not!
Immediately, I started pouring through my memory bands, hunting down experiences best suited for that nine to eleven time slot. Here are a few ideas that should whet your cinematic appetites.
How about a movie for kids based on me and my childhood pet, Ozzie the Turkey. A compelling tale of faithful companionship, it could chronicle events right up to the tragic day he wound up as the main ingredient in the Sunday gravy. We might call this flick The Gizzard of Oz.
To satisfy the sci-fi contingent, the moguls could recreate my recent kidnapping by a saucer full of alien scientists. These evil demons strapped me to their operating table and surgically removed every last hair from the top of my head, replacing each with a tiny, mega-powerful microchip. My scalp is now as powerful as 623 mainframe computers and I'm the focal point of an interplanetary information processing system. Let's call this epic The Martian Follicles.
In the realm of action-adventures, here's a swashbuckler with a leading role Harrison Ford or Arnold would be glad to sink their teeth into. High up on the roof, repairing the chimney flashing, our hero is suddenly hailed by exigencies below. As he races down the ladder, his feet get tangled and he plummets 23 feet, landing on his head and nearly breaking his neck. He recovers, yes, but the rose bush and his $30 jeans do not. The working title of this supercharged saga is When the Prunes Kicked In.
And there are more, plenty more. The way I figure it, I've got more than enough stock to keep the major networks supplied up to and beyond the coming millennium.
I suppose, now, you'll all be rushing out to buy yourselves big-screen TVs. Good idea. I recommend a 39 incher with surround sound. And here's a viewing tip: turn up the volume when our hero races for the ladder. You'll love the sound effects.
(Taken from My Live in the Movies and other writings: Collected Wit, Humor and Reflections of an Aspiring Hack by Ace Toscano)