Hey, this is Mack, back with another episode of
Write is Wrong, written by me and my good buddy
Bob. Let's go! Chapter 6. The Reckoning. When
Jake returned home that night, he found Lisa
asleep on the couch with the TV on, a scene that
had become all too familiar. When he kissed her
on the cheek to wake her, She immediately detected
the fresh alcohol on his breath. You smell like
booze, she said, without opening her eyes. Yeah.
Is that still from last night, or is it fresh?
she asked. Little of both, Jake admitted. I'm
really worried about you, Lisa said, finally
looking at him. I know. So am I, he said. There
was genuine vulnerability in both their voices.
They hugged, and for a moment, The weight of
unspoken fears and hopes hung between them. We're
going to figure this out, Jake said, though he
wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her
or himself. Are we? Lisa asked. Because I can't
do this alone, Jake. I won't. You won't have
to. I promise, Jake said. You've made promises
before. This time it's different. Why? Lisa asked.
Because you have another new screenplay idea
and you feel good about yourself for five minutes?
Her being so direct surprised Jake a little.
Maybe. Yeah. I think so. Well, then you better
write it, Lisa said. Because if you don't, if
this is just another excuse to avoid dealing
with reality, I'm done. The next morning, Bob's
confrontation with his boss, Colonel Compost,
provided Bob with the opportunity for his ultimate
act of rebellion. The full extent of Colonel
Compost's toxicity was on full display as Bob
entered the colonel's dressing room as he pulled
on his green farmer's overalls and buckled his
Birkenstock sandals. Close the door, dipshit,
Colonel Compost commanded. What's up? Bob asked,
though he could already sense the coming storm.
You're a hack. That's what's up. Excuse me? asked
Bob. You're a shitty writer, the colonel said.
Actually... That's an insult to shitty writers
everywhere. You're not even a writer. You suck.
Half the asshole kids in that audience are better
writers than you. You're right. At least half
of those kids out there are assholes, Bob replied,
his tone deceptively calm. Don't try to be cute.
I've had it with your bullshit. Well, at least
my bullshit is organic, Colonel. Oh, that's fucking
hilarious, said the Colonel. You can only teach
kids to be green in so many ways. Bob said. We're
running out of material. This is the lowest rated
kid show on TV and it's your fault, said the
colonel. My fault? You're ruining my reputation
and destroying my legacy, replied the colonel.
Well, I certainly don't want to be responsible
for tarnishing your good name, Bob said. The
ratings are so low, I'm only banging one or two
of these moms a week now, said the colonel. Well,
we can't have that now, can we? said Bob. This
isn't hard, numbnuts. Write me something that
doesn't suck or you're fucking fired. Got it?
Bob looked at his watch with a smile. Sure thing,
Ron. Call me Colonel, asshole. When a young Latino
production assistant knocked on the door to give
the five -minute warning, Colonel Campo's response
revealed the depth of his character. Fucking
fence jumper. That's not cool, man, Bob said.
Yeah, what do you care? asked the colonel. He's
from Van Nuys, dude. Like, he was born here.
Yeah, whatever, said the colonel. Just get the
fuck out of here. Out on the set, Bob convinced
the production assistant to let him make some
last -minute changes to the teleprompter, then
programmed it in with his own special message.
When the cameras were rolling and Colonel Compost
asked the children what they wanted to do that
day, they read Bob's words on the monitor above
them. We want to smoke that herb, y 'all. Colonel
Compost looked into the camera, very confused,
and asked the kids, I'm sorry, what did you want
to do today? The kids respond, We're going to
get high as fuck and watch you hit on our moms.
The final blow came when the children declared,
And Bob says you're a douchebag. One child's
innocent question, What's a douchebag, Mommy?
was followed by four angry fathers advancing.
I'm the Bewildered Host. Bob's exit from the
studio was triumphant. He walked down the dark
hallway, kicked open the door to the outside
world, and stepped into the bright sunshine with
a smile, putting on his sunglasses like a man
who had finally found his freedom. Bob briefly
hesitated about which direction to go, a moment
of uncertainty in his newfound liberation, capturing
the anxiety and excitement of starting over at
45. But for the first time in years, Bob felt
like he was moving towards something. rather
than running away from it. All right, that wraps
up this episode of Write is Wrong. These first
six episodes of Write is Wrong actually represent
the content of a pilot episode that Bob and I
had written where we envisioned Write is Wrong
as a TV show. So there you have it, the story
behind the story. I hope you enjoyed it. Take
care, and thanks for listening.