By Mike Stevens
Reed Duecer was dragging. He'd spent the last 3 hours hosting a telethon from the channel 4,678 studios, and it was NOT going well. He'd been in charge, and had booked every act. He was the head of The Disadvantaged Youth of America, an organization that helped disadvantaged youth, often from the inner-city, raise money from the public, but so far, the public must have been watching reruns of 'Crappo-the Wonder Dog' on the Dog channel, because so far, the telethon had raised a grand total of $174 towards their stated goal of $5,000 dollars. There were only two acts left, and this disaster would be over. Next up was Whiz Green and His Magic Saw, and Reed thought, is it magic enough to raise $4,826 dollars? Doubtful, very doubtful!
He had to get Whiz Green off of there; as so far, they'd received two phone calls, one of which was nothing more than a profanity-laced tirade, and the other was a guy who had called to pledge $50 if,
"That total prong with the big metal deal would stop!"
Reed thought, for $50, I'll fart show tunes while baking a cake!, but the guy hung up before giving his personal information, thereby saving Whiz from the inglorious fate of being horse collared, and dragged off camera with a hook. He frantically started dragging his finger across his throat to let Whiz know to cut his performance short, but if he noticed, he apparently didn't give a s**t, or was too dense to figure it out, because the ungodly warbling continued.
Reed didn't know what to do. Well, Whiz had brought it on himself. He calmly walked on camera, and whispered to Whiz,
"Rap it up!"
Whiz just stared at him, and yelled, "What?" as all the while, the pathetic sound emanating from his obviously-non musical saw kept up its surreal noise.
"Oh, for Christ's sake! You blow; show's over!" and Whiz replied,
Reed had to get the next scheduled act on now! He racked his brain, trying to remember the band's name. Night Emissions, Sludge, Sludge Emissions? No, that wasn't right. Come on, think, he was walking in front of the camera, when it came to him, Sledgehammer Nightmare.
He'd had introduced Sledgehammer Nightmare, and was listening to them totally ranking on disadvantaged kids. What? With each new verse sang by the slope-headed lead singer, the ranks got worse and worse. He ran over and instructed Mark Sanders, his volunteer stage manager, to pull the plug. An incredulous Sanders replied,
Reed was in his office, having just endured the singer for Sledgehammer Nightmare absolutely ream him up one side, then the other, for pulling the plug. The hell with Disadvantaged Youth of America, what about Disadvantaged Charity Executives of America?