Authors: Kim Newman
Tiny Chiselhurst, Creator and Owner
Dear Potential Megastar,
Thank you for your interest. Please fill in the attached form and return it to me at Mythwrhn Productions.
This isn’t an exam: the answers you give aren’t right or wrong, but will help us determine whether you are the type of person for our show. Don’t think too hard or try to give answers you think we want. Be yourself.
All forms are confidential.
Best wishes,
April Treece, Researcher
ARE YOU A MEGASTAR?
PRODUCTION SUB-MEETING, No. 19
PRESENT, for MYTHWRHN PRODUCTIONS:
April Treece (Featured Researcher), Claire Bates (Minion), Davinda Paquignet (Recording Angel).
BATES: Can I just say, off the record, how much I
hate
this proposal.
TREECE: Get in the queue, Claire. Tiny’s got this bonnet bee that they love it at the top of the Pyramid. It’s all the things Derek Leech, our ultimate lord and master at Cloud 9 Television, is supposed to be keen on. Cheap, crass, cruel and compulsive.
BATES: And crap!
TREECE: You might say that. I couldn’t possibly comment.
BATES: Dav, stop writing this down!
PAQUIGNET: Sorry, force of habit.
BATES: Ape, have you sorted through the completed forms?
TREECE: God, yes.
BATES: Where did we find these sickos?
TREECE: Milling about in general population.
BATES: ‘Which of the Spice Girls would you most like to rape?’
What sort of question is that. A bit sex-specific, surely.
TREECE: The responses are 75 per-cent male.
BATES: Sur-prise.
TREECE: So far as we can tell. Those who ticked ‘yes, please’ for ‘sex?’ are sometimes hard to work out. And those are our pass applicants.
BATES: They’ll be men. Or really dim tarts.
TREECE: A frightening number of women responded. Some skipped the Spice question. Some didn’t. A few nominated male equivalents. You wouldn’t think anyone could have those fantasies about Frank Dobson or...
BATES: Ugh! Don’t say any more! I don’t want to know!
PAQUIGNET: I didn’t think it was possible to have the amount of sex most of these people say they have.
TREECE: Not if you work in television, it isn’t.
BATES: Too bloody right.
TREECE: Dr Wendel says to divide that answer by ten to get a proper figure. Except for the ones who claim to be virgins. Half of them aren’t lying.
PAQUIGNET: What about the lad who gave names and addresses? Are we supposed to phone the victims up to check him out?
TREECE: No wonder he can’t keep a steady girlfriend.
BATES: If you had a party, would you want any of these people to come?
TREECE: God, no. But this is Tiny’s baby, and we have to carry it to term, no matter how we feel. Look, Claire, it’s a looney idea and even Derek Leech wouldn’t seriously consider putting it out. We’re more likely to see live bullfighting on British TV than this horror, so we won’t get hurt. Let’s go as far with it as we have to before Tiny, inevitably, changes his mind.
BATES: I don’t want my name on any of the documentation, or a credit on any proposal or pilot. I’m serious. I don’t want a paper trail connecting me to this... this atrocity. Dav, stop bloody writing!
Dear Loser
Thank you for your interest. Unfortunately, you are not the person we - or anyone else - are looking for at this time.
We wish you joy in your continued obscurity.
Sincerely,
April Treece, Rejecter-in-Chief
MEMO
From:
April Treece, senior researcher
To:
Tiny Chiselhurst, producer/creator
Re:
Horrible People Pilot
We sent out entry forms to the first 5,000 people who responded to the ad or the flyer and got 2,389 completed returns. I passed on the 968 papers with ‘yes, please!’ ticked for Question Two - the famous ‘trigger signal’ - to Dr Wendel and Miss Lark, who have evaluated them all and selected 178 ‘possibles’. I’m astonished not only at the number of people out there who have sent anonymous letters but are proud enough of the fact to boast about it at enormous length, continuing onto the other side of the paper, to strangers. As requested, I’ve sent a curt rejection letter to all 178 and ignored the rest.
I still don’t believe this is going to fly, or that even Cloud 9 will broadcast it if it does. That said, reading over the completed forms, I’m starting to understand why audiences might actually enjoy watching the show. Are real people really this awful? The runners have stuck up their favourite forms on the message board. At the moment, the champion is the Sporty Spice fan who would see off an attacker by taking a mouthful of bleach and offering a blow-job, though my clear winner is the ‘nurturer’ guy or girl (ambiguous name and no helpful answer to Q2) who claims to have shagged seven of Dr Who’s companions (not including K-9, I trust). Do we have a title yet?
MEMO
From:
Tiny Chiselhurst, producer/creator
To:
April Treece, chief researcher
Re:
Bedlam Unplugged
Any of the ‘possibles’ who get back to us to complain about the ‘Dear Loser’ letters should be invited for interview. Please note whether applicants complain via e-mail, telephone or the post, and pass print-outs, recordings and photocopies to Dr Wendel and Miss Lark. Anyone not classed as a ‘possible’ who complains we haven’t got back to them should also be considered for interview if the complaint shows the proper character type. Taking the usual wastage into account, we only need a dozen or so strong candidates.
I know the troops have their doubts about this, Ape, but I’ve got a gut feeling that it is going to be a winner! At present, Cloud 9 inclining towards a neutral title like
A Week Off
or
Microcosm,
though I’m all for something as blunt as
It’s Madhouse!
or
The Pit
and cleverclogs Bender has voted for
The Raft of the Medusa.
How does one go about offering someone a blow-job if one has a mouthful of bleach? Sign language. And if you threw a brick in the Soho House, you’d be lucky to hit someone who
hadn’t
shagged seven of Dr Who’s companions. Onwards and upwards!
INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT, NO. 17.
APPLICANT:
Harry ‘Donger’ Bennett, 32.
FOR MYTHWRHN:
Tiny Chiselhurst, Dr Vernon Wendel, Myra Lark, April Treece.
LARK: Harry...
BENNETT: Everyone calls me ‘Donger’. Ever since school.
LARK: Ah, Donger... first, we must apologise for the mix-up with the letter.
BENNETT: So you should. Nearly missed your chance there, didn’t you?
LARK: Indeed.
BENNETT: But I like your whole approach, really. ‘Dear Loser’.
No poncing about there. Puts the losers right in their place. The real losers. I like to see that.
LARK: You describe yourself as competitive?
BENNETT: No. I would describe myself as a winner. It’s just a fact of life. Ever since school.
LARK: You did well in school?
BENNETT: Too right. Fighting them off, I was. Had half the Sixth Form, and a couple of the younger teachers. The beginning of a great career.
LARK: And academically?
BENNETT: Rugby, football, basketball. Everything. Except cricket. That’s for poofs.
LARK: You don’t like, uh, homosexuals?
BENNETT: Show me a bloke who says he does and I’ll show you a poof. It’s not a natural thing, is it? Whatever they say these days.
LARK: You’ve never been married?
BENNETT: I’ve been engaged a couple of times, if that’s what it takes to get the cork to pop.
LARK: It’s important that you be unattached, for the show. Do you have a girlfriend?
BENNETT: A couple, actually. But no one I can’t chuck if something tasty comes along.
LARK: You understand, then, that there’s a certain standard of, ah, wildness expected on shows like this.
BENNETT: I’ve seen my share. Holidays in the sun. Drunken tarts gagging for it. Is this like that?
LARK: There’s an element of that format, but there’s also a game aspect, a competitive streak. Physical competition.
BENNETT:
Blind Date
meets
Gladiators?
LARK: You might say that. You look as if you could look after yourself.
BENNETT: I’ve had my share of scrapes. I come out on top. By any means necessary, if you know what I mean and I think you do.
LARK: You work for an estate agent?
BENNETT: I work
as
an estate agent. It’s just what I do in the days. History is made at night.
LARK: Do you like your job?
BENNETT: I like helping people. Setting families on the road to home-ownership.
LARK: Really. Really?
BENNETT: Well, no. You’re sharp. That’s what we’re supposed to say. I like the push and the commission. There are so many ways to make something work to your advantage. That side of it is fun, but there’s always a problem with the pillocks.
LARK: The pillocks?
BENNETT: Buyers, sellers, the lot of them. Pillocks. Always pulling out at the last minute, or screaming that they’ve been rooked, that they weren’t told something it was their business to find out. You know the sort. Pillocks.
CHISELHURST: Donger, do you find April attractive?
BENNETT: Phwoarr!
TREECE: Really, Tiny.
BENNETT: No, fair question. You look very good for your age, Miss Treece. April. Smart. Good clothes. I like that. Not like some of the shag-slags. Some women put on a suit and look dikey, but not you.
CHISELHURST: If Dr Wendel came at you in a pub with a knife, could you take him?
BENNETT: No offence, but yes.
WENDEL: You might be surprised.
BENNETT: Like I said, I’m a winner. If he had a knife and I didn’t, I’d bottle him. End of story. It’s not even that he’s older and smaller, but it’s that he hasn’t got the heart. Most people haven’t. Too squeamish.
CHISELHURST: Thank you, Harry... ah, Donger. We’ll be in touch.
BENNETT: Have I passed? Is there anyone behind the mirror?
CHISELHURST: We have enjoyed this interview.
BENNETT: I’m in, aren’t I? I bloody knew it. You won’t regret this. You need me. I’m a natural for your show, what’s it called?
TREECE: Provisionally,
It’s a Madhouse!
It may change.
BENNETT:
It’s a Madhouse!,
yeah. I like that. Anything can happen in the next half hour. Anything.
CHISELHURST: April will show you out, ah, ‘Donger’.
BENNETT: Excellent. I’ll be back. Ka-poww!