A Caller on the Hate Line
Bill Needle's new call-in show has been an unexpected hit, much to his dismay. Oddly enough, all of the callers so far have vaguely reminded him of himself.
*brring brring*
It's the phone...
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"Hello, you're on the Hate Line."
"How's it goin', eh?"
"I'll tell ya, it's not going well. Who is this?"
"What, you don't recognize my voice? You think you're too good for our show, Mister Critic Guy? We're on the same, uh… network, eh?"
"Oh great, more SCTV talent."
"That's right, we're talent! And more talent than you'll ever be, eh? At least we manage to keep our show as, like, just the one show, eh?"
"Well, you're obviously familiar with me. Y'know, I can't help but feel that you've introduced a distinct power imbalance into our conversation, here."
"Imblenc- oh take off, eh? You tryin' to use your fancy critic terms to confuse me? Aren't I supposed to be the one complainin'?"
"You've been doing plenty of complaining already… Dave?"
"It's Doug, eh? Now let me say what I was goin' to say."
"Go ahead, Doug."
"Doug McKenzie. Brother of Bob, eh?"
"Oh, right, you two. Fine. What's on your mind, Mr. McKenzie?"
"Ooh, "Mr. McKenzie", makes me sound all important, eh? Anyway, I was callin' in to say that Bob has been takin' over the show again, and it's pissin' me off. We were talkin' about how we should be runnin' the show more like a- like, an "equal partnership", eh? And now he's off runnin' it like it's just his show again. I don't know what to do with this hosehead."
"Tell me, Mr. McKenzie, what exactly is it that you bring to your show?"
"Oh, I bring my raw sexual charisma, eh?"
"Your- your what? Did I hear that right?"
"Yeah, eh? The ladies love Doug McKenzie."
"And that's… that's what you want? For Great White North?"
"Well it's not somethin' I did on purpose, and I can't say I care personally either way, but it does "bring in the ratings". At least, like, that's what you always say, eh?"
"What I always… ah, hell."
"What's wrong, Bill? Don't tell me you were lyin' about that stuff, eh? I've kinda put all my, uh, beer, into one… beer basket, here. I really don't have any other skills, eh?"
"As much as all my instincts are screaming at me to hang up on you this instant, there's some terrible little part of me that needs to hear this, and hear it directly from you. Which traits of yours, precisely, would you provide as evidence of your - and I quote - "raw sexual charisma"?"
"I'm, like, a "bad boy", eh? Always causin' trouble. Ladies can't get enough of that stuff - don't ask me why, eh, 'cause I dunno either. Also, the, uh, earmuffs, eh? There's somethin' about the earmuffs, I swear."
"Well, I hate to say it, but you're not wrong. I'm sure you've heard me allude to my extensive amateur research on the subject, but I have indeed identified that an aloof demeanour has a powerful effect on the female libido. The only problem is- that's not really the kinda thing you talk about with a show like yours. Do you even have a sense of who your target audience is? 'Cause I'll tell ya now, it's not "the ladies"."
"Take off, tons of ladies watch our show, eh? You think a lady can't be a hoser?"
"Oh I'm sure they do, but they aren't watching Great White North for any kind of sexual appeal. They're watching for the banter you have with your brother, your… your rambling discussions of those inane "topics", and that set design… you could make a- a sculpture out of all those empties. They watch you to gawk, if anything. Frankly, you should feel used."
"HA! So you have seen our show!"
"…is that what you were trying to prove?"
"No, but it's real funny, eh?"
"Yeah, real funny. Okay Doug, thanks for callin' in-"
"No, Bill, wait- call me "Mr. McKenzie" just one more time, eh? Pretty please, with a donut on top?"
"…okay, Mr. McKenzie, it was a pleasure to have you on the Hate Line."
"You're a bad liar, Bill. But thanks, eh? I'll see ya around."
"Don't bet on it."
