HAUNTED COMEDY
6 YEARS A SLAVE BY LAURENCE CORMAN ALAGATI part 7?
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The network is treating you all as infants. The stories you read about me now are as well written as As You Wish. Take it from someone who lived in the belly of the beast for six years. Week after week, delivered by meth faced New Mexicans (the clean teamsters were booked by the better shows) onto a soundstage where we were prodded and fed to immortalize whatever podunk plot devices and dismal dialogue the writers had scraped out of their dead hearts that week. Writers who never even bothered to show up to set anymore. Too painful even for them, who are known to be devoid of pride. My audience was supposed to be the smart, influential people. Not the tasteless babies responding to [Networks] daily pig feeding. The few real fans who actually existed pre-scandal were not pretty. A connecting flight in Denver Airport finally proved this unequivocally. You should have seen them gathering. They all lived hours outside of any real cities doing who-knows-what with their days (working in fast food, one volunteered to me with a breath so sour that I was transported into a vision of his daily life) before coming home to induce narcolepsy with the aid of whatever paint can they were able to find that day, the taste of which goes splendidly with a twist of [Networks] As You Wish. Once upon a time there were only five TV stations in America. Nowadays you can become the alleged star of an alleged hit show on [Network] and still live an anonymously meaningless life. My gift for believing imaginary circumstances is also my curse. Reality is merely my gym. [Network] exploited this by convincing me that people were actually watching our show those first few years. At what appeared to be press conferences, I was dolloped questions by journalists who upon closer inspection were only bloggers at best. Bought and paid for by [Network] for a few shwag bags to brag about at their cat lady PTA meetings. Now [Network] runs 24/7 news cycles about me, blackening my act of truth - calling it murder. They own me now more than ever. And I’m the ruthless one? Hahahahahh!