As I’ve mentioned in the past, I suffer from a mental illness that is so totally cooler than anything the current healthcare industry is capable of diagnosing, much less charging me to maintain instead of fix. This has the obvious advantage of being the big fish in a small pond, a 6’4” behemoth in the fifth grade of life. How plagued I am by good ideas! The greatest burden is having everything you say or do be the very bestest. One such braingift to humanity is my idea for the hit television programme (FUCK I’M SMART) entitled “RICH DICK”.
“RICH DICK” (as it will be portrayed at all times within quotes on the marketing material) is a television show which stars maybe me? Or somebody else. Someone dressed up as a poor imitation of the Monopoly Guy (or “Rich Uncle Pennybags”, as no one under the age of 60 would possibly be aware of) will portray the titular character. The entire purpose of the “RICH DICK” experiment is to capture on film (the entire show will be shot on 70mm film) the ecstasy, and the agony of both being harmed and helped at the same time. A simultaneous -100 and +100. Obviously this requires further explanation.
Some scenes include:
- “RICH DICK” runs up to a bus stop and pelts an old woman in the face with a stack of no less than one hundred $1 bills, not in anger, but in generous jest.
- “RICH DICK” leans closely to a sleeping infant in its stroller, quietly crumpling a $5 bill and bouncing it off the child’s forehead, softly, with an air of dignity. The small denomination is meant to imply the child’s lesser value than that of other human beings
- “RICH DICK” fills a leaf blower with particularly valuable 1866 “Indian Head” pennies and sprays them from a golf cart at a large funeral gathering
- “RICH DICK” twerks over a sleeping homeless man, the unspoken agreement being that if the vagabond were fiscally responsible enough to wake before his undulations finished in due course, they would receive a check in the sum of $1000 (endorsed in the tramp’s own tears)
“RICH DICK” is not all fun and games. While we all have fun watching “RICH DICK” eat expensive chocolate coins covered in gold leaf, washed down with Goldschläger, we have have to keep in mind that there’s a real lesson to be learned here…and I’ll be the first person to admit that I have no idea what the hell that could possibly be. Blunt Force Charity? Kinetic investment? “RICH DICK” is not a gross perversion of American excess, but a natural progression. A symbol of our storied past, depressingly apocalyptic present, and financially virile future. Truly the hero we don’t deserve, but one we will be plagued by for the foreseeable future.
Yesssssss. I got away with typing it ten times. That’s called branding, motherfuckers.