The Monthly Column: Game Shows For Tomorrow

If there’s one thing people will always love, it’s a round of fresh, clever game shows to watch on TV, while they forget the day’s trudge from chasin’ that dolla. There’s a problem, however, and that problem is that all the game shows out there are neither fresh, nor clever. Sure, everyone likes Jeopardy and Wheel Of Fortune, as those are classics at this point. Battles of knowledge and flirtation with chance are great, but people want something new, wherein others compete in some kind of contest with ridiculous rules, in order to win a burlap sack full of cash. With that said, here are some new ideas, where people do ridiculous shit for our amusement and their enrichment.

In The Dog House

A person is to live in a modest, one-bedroom house for an entire month. Each day, a new dog is added to the house. The person must remember the names of—and, take care of—each dog added to the house, even as the numbers grow. The dogs will be monitored constantly and the audience can vote on whether or not their quality of life is deemed good enough to merit the contestant winning the jackpot at the end of the month. There will be another, similar show, as well, called Cathouse Blues, and it will be the same—but, instead of dogs, it will have prostitutes.

Dr. Feelgood

This is a game show, where people are presented with ten unassuming men, one of whom is a medical doctor. The contestants will have to judge which of the men is the incognito physician, solely by how each physician touches the contestant’s genitals. MY BODY, MY MONEY In this hilarious show, a panel of celebrity judges, consisting of Tara Reid, Tae Bo pitchman Billy Blanks, either Kid or Play and Guy Fieri, all vote to approve audience-submitted suggestions for tattoos, that the contestants will get in exchange for money. The kicker is, the more money involved, the more the tattoo will alienate the contestant from society. However, none of the money will be sufficient to sustain a person for the rest of their life, so the contestants must weigh their entire future of employability and social acceptance, against $75,000 in cash, to get a whole-back tattoo of Hitler peeing on dead toddlers.

Huffin’ & Puffin’

This delightful program features one of the most challenging obstacle courses ever constructed for a TV show and contestants willing to take a shot at making it through this course without being disqualified. The handicap is as follows: before each leg of the course, each participant will have to strap over their nose and mouth a greasy rag, soaked in various industrial solvents. If they can fight the fumes—as well as gravity— they will walk away with a new car and a lifetime supply of varnish.

Bust-In Rhymes

The concept for this particular show is a pair of strangers who must share a very small house—and a bed—together, for a solid three months, regardless of their age, gender, sexual preference or hygiene level. Oh, and periodically, low-level hip-hop artists who are trying to make it will literally break into this house at any and all hours of the day—having been told it is part of a different game show and that the two inhabitants are record label executives, whom they must "wow" with their sickest rhymes, in the time before they are removed by either security or the occupants themselves.

Chill, Baby, Chill!

In this fanciful show, new parents will first answer a series of true-or-false questions as a distraction, before being told that their baby has been placed in a freezer. To get the lil’ one back, they must begin answering personal questions truthfully—the answers to which may end their relationships, their careers, ostracize them from friends and family or, at the very least, shred their dignity. In the end, a curtain is raised, revealing that their baby was not in a freezer, but rather a comfortable pen that merely looks like a freezer. As the contestants leave the stage, a hateful audience will pelt them with wadded- up dollars, which they have 60 seconds to grab and stuff in their pockets, before being forced to go straight to the airport and return home.

The Bong Show

For this one, an ever-increasing amount of bong rips is administered to participants, who are then made to watch brief clips from famous movies, before re-enacting a scene with the rest of the contestants. The studio audience determines the points awarded for each scene, and instead of being paid money, the contestants are merely led out an exit-only door and not let back in.

Monster Squad Goals

Teams of contestants compete to design the most frightening movie monster possible. Then, their ideas are taken to a customer, who makes a big-budget and bespoke costume to bring the monster to life. Following the construction of the costume, someone in the squad must wear it, as they tear through classrooms in a randomly selected preschool. A point is awarded for each child determined to be terrified by hidden cameras and bonus points if the children lose control of their bodily functions or revert to regressive, more infantile behaviors. The winners take all and the prize money is split among them, with the costume-wearer getting a bonus.

Fertilization Nation

A gaggle of women, all desiring a child, each spin the Wheel Of Semen and are given a turkey-baster to the spatch, with the gogurt of one out of ten possible men. After the insemination, a curtain is raised and we find all the men are skilled doctors, lawyers or professional athletes—except one, who has massive physical and mental handicaps. A cash prize is awarded for becoming pregnant, and only at this point do they reveal whose sperm they got. If they want to lose it all, they can hit the ‘Bortion Button at any time or go double-or-nothing on a healthy baby.

So, there we go. Seems that tormenting children is hot this year. If you’re reading this humble publication, TV executives (and, I know you are), please consider these concepts as my way of helping to improve a bleak landscape full of mystery briefcases. Help me help you help us ALL.

Happy viewing.