All blogs are works of gonzo journalism and should not be regarded as truth; they are but entertainment.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Douchebag; or Fred Durst's New Sitcom

The crumbling graveyard of sitcom television fills with the cold winds of Autumn.  There are leaves there, blowing across the tombstones like so many leaflets from so many horrible reviews.  The tears of America grace the cheeks of the Nothing Generation, caught up in a world where entertainment no longer comes from the television.  Some would think that this would be a bad thing, but for guys like Fred Durst its an opportunity. An opportunity to change things, despite his history of failures.  The ink has not yet dried, and already Durst is taking up a napkin to wipe away the tears.

Yes. . . dear friends, Fred Durst is getting into the sitcom game.  He signed a deal with CBS, and not only will be its 'shining star,' but will also be its co-producer.  The show?  Well its called Douchebag, yes one word (as Fred Durst isn't very literary) and its all about some aging rock star trying to deal with his career and his family. A struggle, so to speak, with overtones of comedy.  Of course, it would have overtones of comedy, that is if Fred Durst wasn't involved in the whole process, and it wasn't on CBS.  But alas, it is well known that the poor and cheap have no other choice than to swallow whole the trash that syndicated channels offer them.  And as the 99%'ers like to point out, only 1% of Americans have the wealth to watch whatever they want.  That and own slaves--only we don't call them slaves anymore.

How else can we explain the prevalence of such shows like Jerry Springer and Judge Judy?

We can't.

Luckily, being quite connect with the swine that control syndicated television, I have been give an early copy of the proposed pilot episode.

It goes like this:

INT. MANSION - MORNING


A living room, furnished lavishly.

A maid, MARTHA walks the length of the room with a basket full of dirty laundry.  She knows the lay of the room quite well, and navigates it without having to look in front of her.  The basket is piled high up over her eyes.

FRED enters the room looking quite tired.  He rubs his head with a slight groan and makes his way towards the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee.

FRED
(tired)
Hello Martha. . .

MARTHA
Late night, sir?

FRED
Yeah, the girls kept me up all night

MARTHA
Your daughters, or those women you sneaked in last night?  One of them was young enough to be your daughter, that's for sure.

FRED
What women?  I'm a changed man, you know that.  I may have had lots of women in the past, but I'm a family man now.

MARTHA
(smiling)
Really, I thought you did it all for the nookie?

She walks towards the door to the laundry room, not taking any mind of Fred

MARTHA (CONT'D)
Oh, and your wife is already up and in the kitchen.

FRED
(shocked)
Not cooking, please not cooking.  I still haven't recovered from the last time she tried to make vegetable soup.  I've never seen mud so thick.

RATTLING of pots and pans comes out of the kitchen.

FRED
Oh dear God, she's cooking.

MARTHA
Mmmhmmm--oh and sir. . . you've got some lipstick on your cheek.  Experimenting with make up again?

Fred only looks at her and blindly wipes his cheek.

FRED
Make-up?  What do you think I am, down with the clown?  You should look into make-up Martha, you sure could use some.

MARTHA
(under her breath)
I could use a stiff drink.

Martha makes a face at Fred, but he doesn't see it from behind all of the clothes.  Fred shakes his head and enters the kitchen, RATTLING coming in clearer as he opens the door.

INT - KITCHEN


The room is half full of billowing smoke, filling the room with each passing second.  

Jane hums while she works at the stove, mixing up some concoction that hardly looks edible.  She seems unaware of Fred's entry.  He walks up to the island in the middle of the kitchen and sits down.  There are pots and pans hanging over head.

FRED
I love the smell of smoke in the morning. . . You know we have people who can do that for you.  We wouldn't want any unexpected fires, now would we?

JANE
What's that supposed to mean?

She works the pan, the food BUBBLING with the sounds of grease as smoke continues to fill the room in thick grey clouds.  

FRED
(coughing)
It's like a Bob Marley concert in here.

The smoke continues, thick.

FRED (CONT'D)
What are you making there anyway?  I've seen science experiments that look more appetizing.

JANE
(frustrated)
The same could be said for some of the women you've been with.  You're being a douche bag.

FRED
(annoyed)
I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore?

He raises his hands and adjusts his backwards baseball cap.  Feeling it out he finds a position that is more comfortable.

Jane turns from the stove to glare at him, her hands rested on her hips.

JANE
I thought you weren't going to act like one anymore?  Life is full of disappointments, dear.

Fred frowns.  The sound of STOMPING comes down from the stairs.  DELILA and SAMANTHA enter the room running.  They scream.

DELILA
(screaming)
Fire!  Fire!

FRED
No dear--

SAMANTHA
(echoing)
Fire!  Fire!  

The children run around the island, screaming and waving their arms in the air.  Delila is seized up by her mother, who grabs her by the arm.

JANE
(shouting)
Enough!  Enough!  There's no fire!  Mommy is just making everyone breakfast.  Isn't that nice?

FRED
That remains to be seen.

JANE
How did you sleep girls?

SAMANTHA/DELILA
(together)
Fine. . .

SAMANTHA
But there were all these noises coming from Daddy's room.

FRED
(surprised)
Noises?  What noises?

SAMANTHA
Oh, Hi daddy.  Didn't know you were up.  Its a little early for you isn't it?

Fred's shock turns to dismay, as his wife serves the children.  He frowns.

SAMANTHA (CONT'D)
Sounds like farm animals.  I think I even heard a cow.

JANE
(angry)
Oh, I thought you gave up fat chicks, dear.

FRED
(innocently)
They were probably dreaming, dear.

The air is full of tension, and smoke.  The children start to play with their food, moving it around with their forks.

DELILA
There was definitely a farmer too.  I remember hearing him talk about his precious hoe.

FRED
Kids and their imagination.

Jane turns from the stove with a plate of food.  She slams it down on the table in front of him.  She stares a hole right through him, and under her gaze he shrinks a little.  The smoke still fills the room and she opens the door to let some of it out.

Fred eyes his plate suspiciously, quite confused as to what it is exactly. The kids continue to play with their food, hardly eating it.

FRED
What is this?

He pokes it with his fork.  Bringing it to his face it drips long stringy substances.

JANE
Eggs, douche bag.

Fred frowns and meekly takes a forkful.  He eats it and his face changes to one of disgust.

FRED
(disgusted)
You never could tell the difference between salt and sugar.  It would be horrible if we had cyanide in the house.

JANE
Who says we don't?

Jane takes the kids plates and puts them in the sink.  She wipes her hands on a dish cloth as Fred gets up to leave.  She turns to look at him.

He stops.

JANE
Where do you think you're going?

FRED
Work?

JANE
Oh no, its your day to take the kids to the studio.

FRED
You're crazy if you think. . .

She stares at him.

FRED (CONT'D)
But. . . honey. . .

She continues to stare, she lifts her hand to rest it on her hip.

FRED (CONT'D)
You've got another thing coming if you think I'm going to bring them to the studio!  They don't even like my music.

JANE
Funny, I thought only children liked your music.

FRED
No.  No.  It's not gonna happen!  No!  No!  Over my dead body.

CUT TO:

Fred is at the wheel of his car, trying his best to concentrate with his two daughters kicking and screaming in the back seat.  They kick his chair, and he rocks forward with each blow.

FRED
(pleading)
OK, can we calm down?  Daddy needs to drive to a very important gig.

The kids scream louder and kick his chair.  He seems quite upset.

FRED
(to himself)
Now I know what it feels like to be in the mosh pit at one of my shows. . . 

INT - STUDIO


The studio is well lit and clean.  Fred's band members are already fitzing around.  GUITAR RIFFS blurt out intermittently.  A SOUND MAN is stationed at the sound board adjusting the levels.

Fred enters with his daughters in tow.  They are lively and full of it.

SOUND MAN
What's with the kids?

FRED
My day to watch em.

SOUND MAN
Family man eh?  Shall we begin?

Fred nods and kneels by his children.  They are fidgeting around.  Delila's mouth is covered with chocolate, and Samantha has a candy bar all of her.

SOUND MAN
You know, you should never give kids candy.

Fred ignores him and looks into his children's eyes.  He takes on a voice that most parents make when they want their children to do something they know they aren't going to want to do.

FRED
(desperate)
Now daddy has to work, but I know you're going to be real angels.  Isn't that right?

He pats them on the head and leaves them.  He goes into the sound booth and begins to sing.

FRED
(singing)
I'm a loser, yes it's true.
Feels like I'm losing since I met you
Through the good times and the bad
Feels like I'm losing all I've ever had

SCREAMS cut through the air as his children start chasing one another about the studio.  First Delila is seen, then Samantha, chasing after her.

FRED (CONT'D)
Check it out
Back in the days there was ways
I was moving on guns all ablaze
Pullin on the past like I do 
Still can't forgive all the abuse

SCREAMS continue, grow louder.  This time Samantha is seen first, holding Delila's candy bar, followed by Delila chasing after her.  Fred becomes distraught, but continues to sing.

FRED (CONT'D)
That aint no way to rise from the crib
Still running hard from the shit
Why you wanna push my buttons?
Makin sure that I feel nothin?

SCREAMS continue.  The children can be seen crawling all over the sound man.  They wrestle him and he falls from his chair.  He SCREAMS.

The children start to play with the sound board.

FRED (CONT'D)
Do you really think you need to remind me
Just to make yourself feel better?  I don't think so
I just wanna do it all right
Find me a better place in this life

The kids continue to play with the sound board, adjusting the levels.  Fred sounds high pitched.  They continue to play.

FRED (CONT'D)
We bring out the worst in each other
That aint no way to love one another
I'm a loser, yes its true
Feels like I'm losing since I met you

More adjustments

FRED (CONT'D)
(auto-tuned)
Through the good times and the bad

More adjustments.

FRED (CONT'D)
(deeply pitched)
Feels like I'm losing all I've ever had

More adjustments.  The sounds of SCREAMS.

FRED (CONT'D)
(high pitched)
I'm a loser yes its true

FRED
(womanly)
Feels like I'm losing since I met you

FRED
(like a chipmunk)
Through the good times and the bad
Feels like I'm losing all I've ever had

Fred stops singing.  He looks up and see his girls riding the sound man like a horse.  He SCREAMS as they tear at his hair.  His screams make them laugh.

FRED
(to himself)
This is gonna be harder than I thought. . . .


Thankfully, the remainder of the script seems to be stained with some strange sticky substance, rendering the rest of it quite a difficult read.


Since when was Fred Durst funny?  By that I mean, since when was Fred Durst ever funny without it being unintentional?  Sure his career has been funny, but that's only because he himself has become a giant walking joke--complete with a backwards cap.  Even Fred knows it.  With this sitcom, never before has a title been more fitting.  Douchebag is perfect, for Fred's been one for decades.

CBS has come to make quite a grave mistake.  Perhaps they are so out of touch with today's youth they actually think kids like Fred Durst (or that its still the 90's), or maybe they think hiring him to lead a sitcom based on his rather flimsy (virtually non-existent) television credits is a great idea.

In both occasions, they are sorely mistaken.  A cadaver could provide more humor.  If the show makes it pass the pilot episode, I'll be shitting my pants in surprise--though I'm sure lots of people will watch the first episode just to laugh at what he's become.  OK, so if it makes it pass the second episode, I'll be shitting my pants in surprise.

But then again, Two and a Half Men  is still on the air, even with a front man who is turning out to be just as morally corrupt as the man he replaced.

With that said, iR declares the idea of a Fred Durst sitcom to be infinitely retarded.


6 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    ReplyDelete
  2. When all you do is write stories about how you transform into Stallone; have a beanie baby collection that you consider quite real and can "hear talk"; and engage in strange deviantart drawings in which you take pictures of hot chicks and paint over them to make them look like cat people and dog people and other half-human half-animal creatures.

    You're right, I must be the one with problems.

    ReplyDelete
  3. So what If I do that? It's fun and what I do best.

    And technically it's not a problem at all, no one else is bothered by it except you and a few other trolls.

    And there's a reason I feel that way towards my beanie babies, because I take care of them and unlike some people - I don't treat them like toys or 'objects'.

    And technically yes, you have more problems than I do. Claiming everything on this blog is retarded, stealing one part of the Nostalgia Critic's catchphrase, and not to mention posting the same irritating comment on my entries.

    You can act like a douchebag on here but on my blog I will not allow it, I can simply just delete your stupid comments and block you.

    I bet you're from Encyclopedia Dramatica or Metokur or some crap like that.

    You are a troll, face it. If your so called friends say you're not a troll, then they are lying.

    ReplyDelete
  4. And besides I don't always do Stallone themed transformation stories and photomanips, I do the photomanips as requests.

    And I don't see what your 'problem' is with it, but when you all do is try too hard to be 'entertaining' and rip off both Nostalgia Critic AND AVGN I can't say that you have a good future.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Again. Who's trying hard? I don't take requests to appease other people. I do as I please. Again. How can I be ripping off people I don't know nor have never heard of?

      My future is quite bright. To state facts Asimov's Science Fiction magazine is accepting my science fiction stories, and at 450 dollars a pop I'd say that's quite good.

      Delete
  5. You've never heard of AVGN? I pity you.

    http://cinemassacre.com/

    And this is the Nostalgia Critic in case you don't know:

    http://thatguywiththeglasses.com/

    ReplyDelete

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