— Fiction —

An Open Letter to the W.G.A. from the Hollywood Producers

Dear Writers Guild of America,

Fuck you guys.

We, The Consortium of Hollywood Producers, met this weekend over hookers and Mallomars at our Santa Monica lair and agreed that we’re not really all that concerned with your writer’s strikey thing. We think we’ll be all right without you, honestly.

If we find that we need a “punch-up” on a script, we just hired a monkey named Schlong O’ Boomo who did some excellent work on the last season of The Sopranos.

Some people may think that we producers don’t appreciate the hard work you writers have done on hit shows such as Dramatic ’n Quirky Intensive Care Unit or last season’s sleeper hit, Despicable Neighbors with Nice Racks, but that’s just not true. The thing is, we’re pretty certain that America isn’t going to really notice the absence of “writers.” If there is a civil uprising akin to the Nielsen Rebellion of 1972, we’ve got enough ideas scribbled on cocktail napkins to get us through the next few seasons, and we figure that we can ride this entire reality television thing for awhile.

We came up with a strategy to target our main demographic; the ever-expanding “People Who Like to Watch TV” market. In fact, we put our brain cells together to come up with a reality series called People Who Like to Watch TV. Right now, we’re negotiating with Apple’s product-placement writers about developing webisodes featuring people who like to watch TV watching People Who Like to Watch TV and downloading them directly into the brains of … you guessed it, people who like to watch TV watching People Who Like to Watch TV!

Jenius …

We still have to figure out some way to get Kirstie Alley to perform a ritualized water-purification dance around the dismembered penis of Jason Priestley’s uncle … nothing is finalized yet, but we’re talking.

The decision for us to be perfectly honest with you guys was not an easy one; at least not until the Executive Producer of C.S.I.: Anthills showed us his new TV Scriptwriting software called SAVE AS: DUH-DA-DUH-DUH-DUHHHH … The software really takes the guesswork out of putting together an episode of Coupla Grown Dudes Touchin’ a Confused Boy.

So, to all you writers on the picket line, let me offer you, from all of us here in Producer Land, a very sincere “Fuck You.”

It’s Just Business,
The Consortium of Hollywood Producers