Once My Looks Go, I've Got Nothing

Between my screeds about Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and my critically acclaimed novel , people sometimes forget that I am quite an accomplished comedy writer. I mean, it takes a certain level of talent to create public access television for literal years (let's not speculate on specifically what level that is). In addition to chortle-inducing articles for this blog and my hilarious off-off-Broadway musical comedy Oh, Bridget! , I once wrote a screenplay for a sitcom pilot that my father described as "kind of funny, in places." Why am I telling you all this? Well, you see, I have recently taken it upon myself to begin another intensive comedy proyecto , and I have come to realize in the course of working on it that I could get a twofer going and turn it into a lesson for you, my loyal and enraptured audience. A real master class in comedy, if you will. Allow me to explain. Comedy, much like open heart surgery, is quite difficult. But you know what they say: spl

     If things had gone the way I'd hoped, I might have been working on a sitcom pilot for NBC right now. Needless to say (although I'm saying it anyway), that didn't quite happen. But hey, let me tell you about it anyway.      As you may be aware, I was once a fixture on local public access television as part of a comedy show called Steel & Marsilio . In fact, I once wrote a needlessly exhaustive history of the program on this very site . Since then, I've mostly moved into other mediums to water my creative lotus, but every once in a while, my former co-host Garrett Steel and I will put together a video or skit or something, and somewhere deep down I still have a love for producing televised media. Therefore, when Garrett brought it to my attention that none other than NBC (America's Network, or so I hear) was running a competition in which they were looking for fresh new ideas for comedy shows, we were all-in. We figured we at least owed ourselves a shot a