So anyway, basically you can choose between programmes that look around properties, or programmes that auction off old crap from people's lofts. Now, take the first of the two. These are always presented by homosexuals; one the archetypal gay (with his short, gelled hair, designer clothes and mandatory lisp), and the other the less-obviously-queer, usually-balding type, that quite often looks like he could be your father. Although, obviously, he can't be.
From now on in we will refer to the property buying programmes as "Two Poofs, Three Houses", TPTH for short. TPTH programmes always feature a married couple as the contestants, who get shown around three properties. They usually get given a budget of �100,000-200,000, and are given various conditions on purchasing any of the properties. Whilst being shown around the three properties, arguments break out between the couples as disagreements arise, and these arguments are fuelled by the presenters. After anything up to an hour of such camp nonsense, the house is selected, the couple's budget (donated generously by the bastard Mercedes-driving executives) is blown: and all that is left to do is for the puddle-jumping presenters and the couple to eat their fancy cakes and sip bubbly in the couple's new accomodation. Mind-numbing crap.
The other type of daytime programme, the auction nonsense, is just as awful! These are always presented by a strange old man in pinstripes, with glasses-on-a-chain that sit around his neck. The spasticated public come to the mono-browed presenter bearing gifts, usually half-covered in dust from sitting up the loft for four decades.
The reason the items have been abandoned up the loft? It's all cheap, tacky horseshit. After the presenter looks blankly at the item, he frowns, and then breaks into nervous laughter, before commenting:
"Definitely a plate from the 1950s, during which period the pieces were handcrafted by people. If I had to guess at its creator, I would probably say it was a [Insert extremely common surname that refers to no particular artist, but allows the presenter to bullshit his way through the estimation segment of the programme]".
Here the presenter pauses, before continuing:
"Having never actually seen one of these before, I really don't have a clue how much this is going to fetch. If I was to take a guess, I would say this piece could fetch anything between �50 and �200, although it may go for less. However, I really wouldn't be surprised if it went for much more!"
Notice how the fogey-arsed twat covers an infinite range of possibilities in his estimation, thus further bullshitting himself out of something he knows fuck all about. He was actually a drunken bum from the streets of Surrey beforehand, but the TV execs spotted him negotiating the price of a rotting egg sandwich he was trying to sell to the highest bidder (the bidders being two fellow beggars) on the streets. The execs decided that he was suitable material for presenting their new show, took him home, washed him down and dressed him in pinstripe. By day, he presents his auction programme, and by night he sits on the mantlepiece of the executives. They keep him there as a means of venting frustration...they punch their bum at regular intervals. Folks, you gotta get yourself a punchbag bum.
Sorry about that, I got sidetracked...anyway, as I was saying...after the estimation crap, the items go to auction and typically go for much less or much more than the arsehole originally predicted. Roll credits, the end. Anyone who has witnessed daytime television will back me up that it is sheer torture.
So here is my proposal for a new daytime television schedule: the plan is to completely clear the afternoon's proposed viewing and replace it with a fresh, new programme. The show would be called "Saddam's House Bargains", and would be presented by crazed dictator Saddam Hussein, and co-hosted by none other than America's finest, George W. Bush. Lured into releasing Saddam from prison by a whopping pay packet, Bush would revel in his new-found role. He'd provide comic relief for the audience, with his witty repartee and strict use of the rules, popping caps in the heads of any foul-mouted contestants or any motherfucker that got in his way, all the while waving his second amendment with pride.
The rules of the programme would be simple: two evil dictators would join Saddam every day as contestants (note that it is rumoured that Osama himself may be lured out of hiding with a guest appearance opportunity). The contestants would be shown three secure, sheltered accomodations, almost always underground in a cave somewhere. They would be given a budget of anything between 100,000 and 200,000 Weapons of Mass Destruction: the budget would depend on the activity of their military. If they had a thriving military force that spent day after day bombing countries, the names of which they couldn't spell, then their budget would be very high (note that due to unforeseeable difficulties involving overwhelmingly large bomb use figures, the United States of America will sadly not be allowed to take part in the gameshow. If the producers of the show were to supply American contestants with WoMDs based on the amount of shit they blow up, then the series would only run for one episode. We apologise to any disappointed Americans for the inconvenience.) If the military of the dictator's country is not known for their bastardingly high levels of bomb-droppage, then they would be given a smaller budget.
George shows them around the properties, all the while making jokes about how the bunkers would be suitable for "fucking towel-headed arseholes", and other such racist comments that pass as humour. After they've seen all three options, the contestants would then make their choice. The two rejected ones would be prepared by the producers of the programme for the next segment. This involves the contract of two current daytime programmes being hung on a wall inside each of the caves. The blindfolded contestants then stand twenty feet from the contracts and fire AK47's in the general direction of the contracts until both are completely and utterly fucking annihilated from the face of the planet.
The third, final and best segment of the programme follows. The chosen property is now prepared. Into the cave, bunker or otherwise shitty dwelling are pushed the presenters of every single antique and property programme. From a very safe distance, the contestants now use their spending budget of WoMDs to BOMB THE EARTH-SHATTERING FUCK out of everything that lives, breathes or moves inside the property. Until a steaming pile of unrecognisable ash lies sizzling on the ground, the contestants fire at everything in sight. Cue credits, complimented with the happy-go-lucky theme tune. During the title sequence at the end, we see clips from various episodes of the series, as our naughty little dictator jovially fools around with contestants, patting his jolly stomach in uncontrollable laughter before it all turns nasty. Saddam, taking offence at an implication by one of the contestants that his actions following Iraq bombings were cowardly, whips out a 12 gauge, blows the motherfucker's brains out of his ear, and takes the head home as a trophy. Delicious afternoon viewing!
I've even came up with a theme tune for my idea. Based loosely on the tune to Cheers, it goes a little something like this...
Taking a break from all your scheming, sure would help a lot.
Wouldn't you like to get away?
Sometimes you wanna blow...
...An island of unknown name,
Where their government's to blame.
You wanna be where you can see,
Your victim's head to aim.
You wanna be where nobody knows your name.
You wanna be where you can see,
Your victim's head to aim.
You wanna be where nobody knows your name.
"Saddam's House Bargains"was filmed in front of a dead studio audience."
