Dead Last
Pilot

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Alex Richmond: C- | Grade It Now!
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Pilot

A voice counts off, one two three four. Feedback screeches and whines. No, wait -- that is possibly supposed to be the beginnings of a song. I think I hear a drum beat. The band -- playing alone in a cavernous, empty club -- screeches to a halt at the bidding of the guitar player, who asks for more volume on the guitar. A soundperson twiddles a knob and the bass player and drummer lay into the guitar guy: "You do this every time! You're loud enough! Boo! Boo! You suck!" Or something like that. The drummer says that it doesn't matter whether he can hear the guitar because he's "just going to blow out the chord changes anyway." Ooh, is that music lingo? I so feel like I'm peeking into a rehearsal for a real live band, not just watching yet another teensploitation show on the WB! I love learning. Anyway, they yell, yell, yell until a barely noticeable guy steps up and yells "hey!" a few times. Then he introduces Ray Varna, slimy record guy from Stereodrome records. The slimeball actually bows, then expositionally says that he's happy to meet his new favorite band, The Problem, with Vaughn on guitar, Jane on bass, and Scotty the wise-cracker behind the kit. The band members all stare knowingly at the Slimeball like they're hitchhiking and expect him to blow right by any minute. They know his type. Barely There guy suggests they thank Slimeball for getting them that van. Don't they like the van? We get a quick montage of the bandmates alternately ogling and mocking an orange 1970s monstrosity complete with a coyote mural and green racing stripes. Scotty tapdances on the hood and pronounces that the van sucks. Then, quick like a bunny, we're back inside, where Vaughn tightly says, through teeth closed around a guitar pick, "Thank you, Ray." Hey, The Problem are not about kissing any record guy's ass. Do you hear that? They do their own thing. Or should I say "thang." Slimeball leaves, all "I'll see ya in Boston tomorra!" blowing kisses and shit, and as soon as he's out the door, Scotty says, his lips less than a foot from his mike, "Scumbag!" Dennis, the Spineless Manager, is all like, hey! Vaughn agrees with Scotty: Slimeball is a tool. Jane cackles. Dennis thinks The Problem should play the game since "guys that are like that are like that," and they "derserve" to be "drooled on." Vaughn agrees, plays a chord, and blows out the building's power. Wham. Sound Guy says that happens, and Scotty says he can fix it. Ooh, a handy man. Gotta love that.

Scotty stands on a chair and fiddles with the fuse box. The others hang back and watch until wham -- the fuse box blows Scotty through two floors and onto a sandy floor twenty feet below. Damn. He's okay, though. A shiny blue light emerges from the sand right by Scotty's hand. He turns his head, sees the shining stone, and grabs it. It looks like a brooch -- a stank brooch rejected from Pretty In Pink's costume department. But Scotty grabs it anyway.

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Dead Last

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