I Am The God Of Game Shows

Yesterday, while drinking Everclear Kool-Aid out of a bucket with a bendy straw, I had a vision. Or a hallucination. Whatever. What's important is that a chorus of spokesmodels appeared unto me and their voices sang a high, clear song. As the tune filled the air, a disco cloud came down from the heavens, smelling of hair gel and gold chains, and from it emerged the tanned, wise face of Wink Martindale, glory to his name! He spoke, and though his words were in a language known only to the most holy of beings, I understood his meaning... he had come down from on high to inform me that I, C-dog, am the God of Game Shows. After he anointed my head with aftershave and knighted me with one of those skinny microphones, he disappeared (the chorus of spokesmodels giggling behind him as he went), leaving me to my one true task: To go on and win ever game show currently operating today. And I can do it, too! Like He-Man and that one Jeopardy nerd before me, I have the power!!!

Here's how I'm going to do it...

The Wheel of Fortune - Lets start with an easy one, just to get my rhythm. Okay, so "The Wheel" is all about guessing words and phrases. No problem. I use words and phrases every single day of my life. I'm using words and phrases right now, matter of fact. And if this blog has taught me anything, it's that I can vomit up whole Mississippi Rivers of words and phrases at the drop of hat; there's no reason in the world to think that this skill wouldn't be applicable to the Hangman-based game show environment. Now, granted, there's going to be some luck involved with the titular wheel spinning and all, but still... I'm fairly confident that my skills, sure hand, and the dreamy way that I'll stare into Vanna White's eyes will see me through. And if all else fails, I'll set the place on fire and steal Pat Sajak's wallet.

Jeopardy - I know everything about everything (a given), so this should be a walk in the park on a sunny day with comfortable shoes and a brand new iPod. Give me any answer and I'll tell you the question. C'mon, hit me with your best shot, motherfuckers!!! Okay... okay... I'm getting a few different ones here... okay, the questions are, "Who was Chubby Checker, What is a plate of pickled herrings, What is about eleven inches, and Where is your momma's face?" That's a billion dollars for me and the shame of being beaten by a fat guy eating a sandwich for the other dorks on the show. Suck it, lame-tards!

Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? - Me. I want to be a millionaire. Hm, that was an easy one.

Family Feud - Girlfriend and I could tackle this one tag team-style. We're basically telepathic anyway. And my dad could show up too because I'll probably need some back up if the other family reacts negatively to my trash-talking and tries to start a street fight in the middle of the studio. That, by the way, is the key to winning on the Feud: Trash-talking. It's hard for your opponent to think of "something you'd find at an amusement park" when you're snapping on them so hard, they're getting cancer.

Press Your Luck - I think this show is just called "Whammy!" now or something, but whatever. Same deal. And it doesn't matter anyway because I'm all over this one like a monkey on a pack of smokes. My secret weapon? The Whammies are scared shitless of me. I'm like their Devil, but way meaner because I've seen all the Hostel movies and I've been taking notes. Those little bastards won't come anywhere near my money, or I'll have their hamstrings clipped like piano wires.

The Moment of Truth - Oh please. Like everyone doesn't already know all my deep, dark secrets. But just in case I've failed to mention some of these in the past, here's all the crap they could use against me: I once sold a midget to wealthy couple that wanted a Munchkin. I've got three families spread out across the US that all think I'm away on a business trip. I invented Bluetooth technology (sorry about that; I was trying to make an earring that sang showtunes and I got carried away). I was the Zodiac killer. There, now the air is clear; I can go on this freak show and fill my pockets.

Hollywood Squares - I went ahead and wrote the best, career-reviving screenplay that Los Angeles has ever seen. Every time I call on a celebrity to block, I'll mention that if they help me out here, I might consider them for the lead role of Jody, the tough but vulnerable waitress with nine kids to feed, all of whom have Ebola and Rickets. Also, Jody's in a gang. I'll sail through this shit like it ain't no thang. Which it ain't.

How Much Is Enough? - I don't really get what this show's about, but I do know that that one dude from LA Law hosts it, so it'll basically be the same deal as Hollywood Squares. I'll probably just tell him how awesome he was in LA Law. And the Major League movies. And those crappy horror flicks that he did about the killer dentist. Celebrities are pushovers for flattery, particularly if you couch it between lapdances.

The Price is Right - It's all about the $1 guess. That, and greasing the right palms to get you up to the stage in the first place. Then, if you give Drew Carey a case of beer, he'll help you rig the Plinko game (he does it with wires, some slight of hand, and the leftover bits from the spayed and neutered pets).

The Bachelor - They can pretend all they want that this is a "reality show." Whatever, it's a game show, except instead of money you win an arranged marriage and probably a few STDs for your trouble. I mean, you know they don't clean the hot tubs out very well; they're like bubbling cauldrons of skank filth and back hair and you're soaking in it like it's the waters off of Padre Island. Anyway, I'd win this because I look killer in a little, black dress. And I put out.