Let’s face it – Reality TV is running out of ideas. What’s next: “World’s Biggest Celebrity Nanny Mud Wrestling With Octomom in Timbuktu”? A change is in the air my friends, and I have just the answer. Let us shift the scene to animals! Not like those cutesy shows they already have with dogs or cats, but knock down, drag out, real action. Here is my idea, and I can even furnish the locale for the pilot series .
SURVIVOR CHICKEN: THE FRIESNER FARM
Chickens – faced with danger from all directions: foxes, tracking them along the cornfields. Raccoons, peering down from their vantage point high in the pine trees, seeking a savory treat. Possums, crawling out of the manure pile, hungry for anything that will get that yucky manure taste out of their mouths. All this while they try to dodge Mr. Friesner, driving around recklessly on the tractor after a few beers. But I digress.
For on this reality show, the contestants don’t just get thrown off the place, they get eaten.
Vote for your favorite. Will it be Hazel, the old matriarch, gentle but savvy, willing to protect her eggs to the death? Or perhaps Beakless, so named because she literally lost her beak in a previous deadly encounter.
How about Oscar, the aging, half-blind rooster, desperately trying to maintain his hold on all the chicken babes from the allure of the younger bantams, such as Junior, a stud muffin that charms the females with his “Why did the human cross the road?” jokes. Or maybe Esmerelda, who… whoops, scratch her… she got gobbled up by something last week.
Check out these fowls, along with a host of others that shall remain nameless (yes, it is true, there are some without names), in their struggle to become the next creature willing to debase themselves in front of a camera, hoping to cash in with a lot of moolah. Make your choice as to who will wind up a pile of feathers, or who will live to “cock-a-doodle-do!” another day!
Okay, there is the premise. But here is the clincher to assure great ratings: viewers not only call in to vote on who will be the last chicken standing, they get to bet on it! Visa and MasterCard accepted, of course. Cold cash payoffs, baby! Give Uncle Sam a piece of the action and I’m sure he will go for it.
It’s not like the outcome can be fixed. Carnivores can’t be bribed to leave a certain chicken off the menu. And the contestants? Well, they certainly don’t want to wind up as dinner. An added bonus: they literally work for chicken feed.
I can envision segments of the show containing interviews with some of the wagerers. Stuff like a tearful woman who gambled her mortgage on Mabel, only to see the hapless hen get chomped by a wily coyote. Or the triumphant comments of a man who bet on the winner simply because he liked the way it crowed.
So remember folks, you heard it here first. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work on my next project: “Dancing With The Goats”.