Post by Deleted on May 17, 2016 6:45:10 GMT
The droll museum patrons are unimpressed by the latest in a string of uninspired paintings and sculptures. How long had it been since their eyes last feasted upon true genius? Upon true art?
But a new pedestal catches their fancy, one bearing the work of a less traditional artiste. Upon the pedestal sits a box of Pollo Bucket. One brave patron removes a chicken strip, and tentatively takes a bite. The commercial cuts.
The scene returns to the desk of yet another put upon Pollo Bucket employee, one unfortunate enough to have been previously harassed by La Cucaracha. Once again, the employee and the POLLOMANIA Golden Egg Champion sit upon opposite sides of a meager desk. She in her wrestling gear, he in his short-sleeved and ill-fitting dress shirt, the Wrestle-Pest prepares to ruin his day once again.
La Cucaracha: S'up, fuck-nut? Been doing a little brainstorming and I've got a few ideas that are going to revolutionize the quality of our shows AND diversify our options for La Cucaracha memorabilia. This shit is gonna get you promoted.
Pollo Bucket Employee: Merchandise and show production aren't actually my department. In fact, they're two entirely different departments.
First things first, I really gotta jazz up my entrance. The sparkler antennas are definitely brilliant, but we can't merchandise them because some dumb kid might catch his head on fire. Guess we could put that glow-stick goo in them. That way when it finally stops glowing they'll have to shell out cash for new ones. Although, isn't that stuff toxic? I've eaten some, but it was only a trace amount.
And as much as I like the idea of using a t-shirt gun for defensive purposes, every shirt I shoot at D.C. Wiland's balls is a shirt that doesn't go to a lucky member of the Infestation Nation. Wiland might even be able to put some voodoo on that shirt, since it's got my essence on it. Better rethink that. I'm not about to get caught up in another web of Haitian black magic.
I'm sure that would be an inconvenience.
Oh, yeah. Here's my treatment for La Cucaracha: The Animated Series.
La Cucaracha drops a stack of loosely stapled paper on the desk, where it lands with a thud.
That's a story bible and plot synopsis for the first seven seasons. Once we've built the universe up and established the characters, I think we can really start to branch out in season eight and reinvent the show. There's also plenty of movie potential. You want to see my pitch for the La Cucaracha cinematic universe?
No.
La Cucaracha drops another, thicker stack of loosely stapled paper atop the first one.
People are going to get sick of comic book movies sooner or later, and that's where we come in. I've made sure to add elements of high concept science fiction and epic fantasy, along with some blatant appeal to all the major movie-going demographics. Obviously, I'll be playing myself.
I hate you.
I've got a film connection in Canada. We can land a five picture deal easy, but I still expect to write and direct. Pollo Bucket might know chicken, but I believe in my own creative vision. They can still provide catering, that way we can cut some corners budget-wise. I'm gonna need every cent for special effects. I want to wield a cross between a lightsaber and a chainsaw.
Shouldn't you be focused on wrestling?
I started thinking about how dangerous a ladder match can be and I had a panic attack. So I channeled that anxiety into productivity. I'm truly an asset.
Please leave.
When I run this company, you're gonna be the first one on the chopping block.
The feed returns to the art gallery, apparently after some time has passed. The most important piece remains the box of Pollo Bucket, strategically placed at the center of the gallery. The walls are adorned with a variety of paintings, each revealing different artistic interpretations of Pollo Bucket. The patrons pay them little mind, and instead continue their devoted study of the original. They agree that nothing else will ever compare.
But a new pedestal catches their fancy, one bearing the work of a less traditional artiste. Upon the pedestal sits a box of Pollo Bucket. One brave patron removes a chicken strip, and tentatively takes a bite. The commercial cuts.
The scene returns to the desk of yet another put upon Pollo Bucket employee, one unfortunate enough to have been previously harassed by La Cucaracha. Once again, the employee and the POLLOMANIA Golden Egg Champion sit upon opposite sides of a meager desk. She in her wrestling gear, he in his short-sleeved and ill-fitting dress shirt, the Wrestle-Pest prepares to ruin his day once again.
La Cucaracha: S'up, fuck-nut? Been doing a little brainstorming and I've got a few ideas that are going to revolutionize the quality of our shows AND diversify our options for La Cucaracha memorabilia. This shit is gonna get you promoted.
Pollo Bucket Employee: Merchandise and show production aren't actually my department. In fact, they're two entirely different departments.
First things first, I really gotta jazz up my entrance. The sparkler antennas are definitely brilliant, but we can't merchandise them because some dumb kid might catch his head on fire. Guess we could put that glow-stick goo in them. That way when it finally stops glowing they'll have to shell out cash for new ones. Although, isn't that stuff toxic? I've eaten some, but it was only a trace amount.
And as much as I like the idea of using a t-shirt gun for defensive purposes, every shirt I shoot at D.C. Wiland's balls is a shirt that doesn't go to a lucky member of the Infestation Nation. Wiland might even be able to put some voodoo on that shirt, since it's got my essence on it. Better rethink that. I'm not about to get caught up in another web of Haitian black magic.
I'm sure that would be an inconvenience.
Oh, yeah. Here's my treatment for La Cucaracha: The Animated Series.
La Cucaracha drops a stack of loosely stapled paper on the desk, where it lands with a thud.
That's a story bible and plot synopsis for the first seven seasons. Once we've built the universe up and established the characters, I think we can really start to branch out in season eight and reinvent the show. There's also plenty of movie potential. You want to see my pitch for the La Cucaracha cinematic universe?
No.
La Cucaracha drops another, thicker stack of loosely stapled paper atop the first one.
People are going to get sick of comic book movies sooner or later, and that's where we come in. I've made sure to add elements of high concept science fiction and epic fantasy, along with some blatant appeal to all the major movie-going demographics. Obviously, I'll be playing myself.
I hate you.
I've got a film connection in Canada. We can land a five picture deal easy, but I still expect to write and direct. Pollo Bucket might know chicken, but I believe in my own creative vision. They can still provide catering, that way we can cut some corners budget-wise. I'm gonna need every cent for special effects. I want to wield a cross between a lightsaber and a chainsaw.
Shouldn't you be focused on wrestling?
I started thinking about how dangerous a ladder match can be and I had a panic attack. So I channeled that anxiety into productivity. I'm truly an asset.
Please leave.
When I run this company, you're gonna be the first one on the chopping block.
The feed returns to the art gallery, apparently after some time has passed. The most important piece remains the box of Pollo Bucket, strategically placed at the center of the gallery. The walls are adorned with a variety of paintings, each revealing different artistic interpretations of Pollo Bucket. The patrons pay them little mind, and instead continue their devoted study of the original. They agree that nothing else will ever compare.