It used to be so easy. Loved the job, loved the kids, loved my staff. Number one show for our time bracket. All the kids who couldnt watch from the audience tuned into The Zonkerific Clown-Around. I was on top of the world. For 27 minutes a day, I could let these kids forget the pain, forget the invasion, forget their troubles and just enjoy being a kid. Wasnt easy. The suits wanted to have the latest corporate toy commercial disguised as childrens programming in our slot. The kids though. The kids wrote in and demanded that Zonko stay on, in our slot! Man that made me feel like I was making a difference. Everything was going great.
Then one day before the show started, we had a visitor.
Oh thats just Zonktastic. I said. Another suit, wanting to make changes. Well lets just see what the Zonk is going on here. I said to my partner Zonka. This guy was different though. I felt a sense of menace and just plain bad vibes coming off this guy like stink off a garbage truck. Bill my manager turned to me and said, This is the guy sir, Zonko the Clown. Hell play ball.
Depends on what your pitching William. Was my reply. He HATES that, being called William, makes him feel like a little kid, so I did it every time I had the chance.
Zonko, this is Don Corleonea, He has a simple little request for us, he wants his nephew to sit in the Zonko Chair.
Whoa, the Chair?!? The Zonko chair is for little crippled kids and orphans of the invasion. It is probably the one time that they will be the center of attention and is able to forget their problems. It was the one thing that made the show special. Once a week we would comb through the piles of letters and chose a special kid to become the Ringmaster of the Clown-Around and they would have a chance to declare the theme for the day, the acts that they wanted to see, and get a savings bond from the sponsors.
Ok, what is wrong with the little dude, Bill? I asked.
Nothing, hes fine.
Ok Where are his parents? I asked knowing the answer.
They are fine too. He just wants to lead the Clown-Around Zonk, so dont goof this up. The Don is willing to fork over a lot of cash for his nephew, and its just this one time.
I was boiling on the inside. The one good thing in my whole life was being corrupted on the inside like a maggot chewing its way out of an apple. Sure the money was good. Some things in life are more important than money. Payola has a way of starting small and soon building up to being the norm. I had to stop this right now. Zonk the consequences. Calling up Zonka, I explained the situation, and what I needed. Sure losing the Clown-Around would be a blow. Corrupting the Clown-Around would be worse.
I called Bill and let him know that I could give him an answer in a week. That to finalize the deal I needed to meet the Don face to face. When you are committed to a task, surprising things can happen in a week. Tapping into the transformer was easy, Zonka, provided excellent diagrams for the power systems. Getting the wires into the dressing room without arousing suspicion was easy too, lot of wires just on the ground in the studio. Rigging the wires to my buzzer was a cinch. Those community college electronics classes finally paid off. So when Bill brought the Don in, and we worked out the deal I was ready. We shook hands to finalize the deal, and the contact points in the buzzer completed the circuit from the high voltage power lines through the cables into and out of the Don. He fried like a piece of bacon, the lights dimmed and I laughed and laughed. As he was cooking I knew I just signed not only my resignation from the Clown-Around, but probably my Death Certificate as well. The Family doesnt take kindly to cooked Dons.
It used to be so easy. Loved the job, loved the kids, loved my staff. Number one show for our time bracket. All the kids who couldnt watch from the audience tuned into The Zonkerific Clown-Around. I was on top of the world. For 27 minutes a day, I could let these kids forget the pain, forget the invasion, forget their troubles and just enjoy being a kid. Wasnt easy. The suits wanted to have the latest corporate toy commercial disguised as childrens programming in our slot. The kids though. The kids wrote in and demanded that Zonko stay on, in our slot! Man that made me feel like I was making a difference. Everything was going great.
Then one day before the show started, we had a visitor.
Oh thats just Zonktastic. I said. Another suit, wanting to make changes. Well lets just see what the Zonk is going on here. I said to my partner Zonka. This guy was different though. I felt a sense of menace and just plain bad vibes coming off this guy like stink off a garbage truck. Bill my manager turned to me and said, This is the guy sir, Zonko the Clown. Hell play ball.
Depends on what your pitching William. Was my reply. He HATES that, being called William, makes him feel like a little kid, so I did it every time I had the chance.
Zonko, this is Don Corleonea, He has a simple little request for us, he wants his nephew to sit in the Zonko Chair.
Whoa, the Chair?!? The Zonko chair is for little crippled kids and orphans of the invasion. It is probably the one time that they will be the center of attention and is able to forget their problems. It was the one thing that made the show special. Once a week we would comb through the piles of letters and chose a special kid to become the Ringmaster of the Clown-Around and they would have a chance to declare the theme for the day, the acts that they wanted to see, and get a savings bond from the sponsors.
Ok, what is wrong with the little dude, Bill? I asked.
Nothing, hes fine.
Ok Where are his parents? I asked knowing the answer.
They are fine too. He just wants to lead the Clown-Around Zonk, so dont goof this up. The Don is willing to fork over a lot of cash for his nephew, and its just this one time.
I was boiling on the inside. The one good thing in my whole life was being corrupted on the inside like a maggot chewing its way out of an apple. Sure the money was good. Some things in life are more important than money. Payola has a way of starting small and soon building up to being the norm. I had to stop this right now. Zonk the consequences. Calling up Zonka, I explained the situation, and what I needed. Sure losing the Clown-Around would be a blow. Corrupting the Clown-Around would be worse.
I called Bill and let him know that I could give him an answer in a week. That to finalize the deal I needed to meet the Don face to face. When you are committed to a task, surprising things can happen in a week. Tapping into the transformer was easy, Zonka, provided excellent diagrams for the power systems. Getting the wires into the dressing room without arousing suspicion was easy too, lot of wires just on the ground in the studio. Rigging the wires to my buzzer was a cinch. Those community college electronics classes finally paid off. So when Bill brought the Don in, and we worked out the deal I was ready. We shook hands to finalize the deal, and the contact points in the buzzer completed the circuit from the high voltage power lines through the cables into and out of the Don. He fried like a piece of bacon, the lights dimmed and I laughed and laughed. As he was cooking I knew I just signed not only my resignation from the Clown-Around, but probably my Death Certificate as well. The Family doesnt take kindly to cooked Dons.