I know, I know.
Reality shows are the bathsalts of all television programming – but hear me out. ‘cause I’ve got a real winner on deck here. And don’t ask me what spurred a concept for this brand of idea. Because the answer, probably lies somewhere in those morning hour ruminations. You know? Where you’re still half awake? And your brain’s become the bed in which your sister’s description of last week’s “Married at First Sight” is bumping uglies with the last blog you wrote about money worries? And then a lovechild forms from that union? And you wake up and write about it because, like all new humans, it won’t stop crying and demands attention?
No?
You have no idea what I’m talking about?
Mmm. Good. One more reason to feed my solipsism I’m doing a shitty job of altering anyway. But more on that later. For now, let’s focus on making my dream become reality. Reality T.V., that is. Starting with me explaining the premise to you: So, the show would open with a family (who’s gone through some application process or whatever to make sure they’re not gonna be boring on an entertainment level and won’t win easily) who has to live in a commune together, not unlike “The Real World”. What’s the point? To receive a ridiculous amount of money – which they’ve already won. You see, when they were accepted onto this reality show, they got a snail mail letter fashioned in lotto-ticket winner format, indicating they’d not only made it onto the show (whose point they were only half-informed on but knew a lotta dough was at stake, so auditioned anyway), but they had won an $Xmillion dollar jackpot as well. All they have to do is wait for it.
And the catch?
For half a year, they have to remain in this house with their loved ones, discussing how they want to allot their funds. But… they can’t argue about the money. At all. To reinforce this, every room (except the bathroom, obv.) will be equipped not just with the standard reality-show cameras, but also a giant, sarcastic, scoreboard-like timer. And when a “discussion” moves to “dispute” (parameters including but not limited to yelling, profanity, impaling one another with kitchen utensils), on goes the board for a five second warning to get their shiz together or lose all the money they’ve already won.
This may sound a little too easy, you might think.
“Just make everyone agree it’s the Voldemort of table topics.”
Right?
Wrong. ’cause the imaginary producers living in my brain are already one step ahead of you. That’s why they’ve devised a series prompts, not unlike Tyra’s Top Model challenges, to make the families gather and discuss the money. Maybe even bring in financial advisors. Psychologists. Celebrities. Lottery-curse winner-losers to share their story. Keep it interesting and dramatic, with plenty of stimulation and opportunities to lose everything. I was picturing Slater from Saved by the Bell hosting the opening credits. But the more I think of it, I really believe a nice, starving Ethiopian child in an oversized suit should be wielding a microphone that weighs more than he does, while saying into it in his best game host inflection:
“They’ve already won it, all they have to do is keep it – by keeping…. their cool.”
And for a name? Sheesh. I dunno…
Family Prize? (Instead’a ties?) Blood and money? Good stock?
Mmmkay. Enough wanking around. Who’s gonna fund me? When do we start?