I have an idea for a television series. It will be next season’s biggest hit, and probably the biggest hit of the next decade. It’s called The Vegan Vampires of Beverly Hills. Let’s face it, everybody wants three things. First, deep down, everybody wants to be a vegan. Being a vegan is cool. It’s post-millennium. Even I was a vegan for two months. Actually, I referred to myself as a ‘casual vegan,’ because occasionally a trace element of an animal-based product might slip into one of my meals. For example, I might be enjoying a vegan meal composed of, say, a baked potato and side of broccoli, and a low and behold, perhaps unconsciously from habit, a 24 ounce porterhouse might slip onto my plate. Second, everybody wants to be a vampire. That’s because vampires are extremely attractive and exciting to be around – you’ve seen the recent movies. Or if you’re old like me and don’t go to the movies, you’ve certainly seen the movie trailers depicting all the attractive and super hip young vampires. I’m not telling you anything new. So don’t’ argue with me about wanting to be a vampire; it only means that you really do want to be a vampire. And finally, everybody wants to live in Beverly Hills.
My show is about a brood of young upwardly mobile and trendy vampires who are too cool to eat animal-based products. You might think that ‘vegan vampires’ is a contradiction in terms. You would be wrong. You see, my vampires convince a naive USC Biology student to help them grow blood cells in petri dishes. That’s what they eat. Of course it’s blended into soy lattes and vegan scones and other very tasty and trendy consumables. Now, before you start with, ‘yeah, blood in petri dishes is technically derived from animals,’ just stop it. No one cares. This is television. Gilligan and his friends got stranded on a non-existent island for ten years after going on a three hour tour.
I haven’t quite figured out how they’ll spend their time. They’ll either sit around talking ad nauseam about their relationships, or fight crime in the hills of Beverly. Not sure which. Although I hear the crime rate in Beverly Hills is pretty low. Or maybe they could be like Robin Hood Vegan Vampires who shoplift disturbingly overpriced clothing and accessories from those snobby boutiques on Rodeo Drive and donate them to the poor. Yeah. It could be the Robin Hood Vegan Vampires of Beverly Hills, bringing couture to the homeless.
Now, you’re my witnesses. I expect you, my millions of loyal readers to attest that this was my idea. Because that’s how Hollywood people work. They steal ideas. (No, I didn’t steal this idea after reading Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight.) But I’m quite confident, with any luck, that a producer will steal my idea. That’s where you come in. I’m counting on you. You see, I’m putting Greta Van Susteren on retainer. She keeps saying she’s a lawyer, so I’m holding her to it. But the real reason I’m retaining her is that she is a Scientologist. (Yeah! I know! She looks so normal.) A Scientologist lawyer is just what I need. You simply don’t mess with Scientologists. (Not unless you want Tom Cruise stopping by your bedroom at 3:00 in the morning armed with a sap.) So I figure Greta can put these copyright violators in a headlock and twist some serious Hollywood money out of them. That way I don’t have to actually write this inane script.
So, if Greta calls you, don’t be alarmed. It’s probably not because she’s going to recruit you into her crazy church. (Don’t flatter yourself. You don’t have that kind of money.) It’s because I put your name down on my witness list. Now, knock those dollar signs out of your eyes. You’re only getting the statutory witness fee and mileage. But don’t worry, I’ll donate a portion of my profit to help bring couture to the homeless of Beverly Hills.
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