The Ratings Game

Television, the most powerful

communications tool in the history of man.

Since its beginning, the networks have dictated

what comes into our living rooms, but one man

brought these almighty monoliths to their very knees.

His name: Vic De Salvo.

This is his story.

There's Lucille Ball's house.

I love Lucy!

Danny Thomas's is right down the block.

You remember Make Room for Daddy?

Yeah, yeah, sure, boss, I remember.

- Let's go borrow a cup of sugar from Bob Newhart.

We need sugar, boss?

- How about a quart of milk from Lonnie Anderson?

Yeah, we need milk, too?

Bruno, oh, look at that.

Pull up over there, Bruno.

Hi, I'm Vic De Salvo, do you mind if I say hello?

- That was pretty smooth, boss, very smooth.

This is gold, Bruno, pure De Salvo.

Funny script, huh, boss?

It's my masterpiece.

Too good for the networks, I'll tell you that.

Hey, boss, there's the peacock over there.

All right, pull over.

It's in the bag, Bruno.

What they respect in this town is confidence.

No, it's okay, Bruno.

Pow!

We don't accept unsolicited manuscripts,

and if we did, we wouldn't accept yours.

- Madame, you do accept them, and you will,

and I'll tell you why.

Security.

- All right, all right, all right, take it easy,

take it easy, give me the scripts.

Thank you very much.

Hey, Vic, hey, leave him alone!

Hey, hey, hey, get your hands off him.

That's okay, Bruno.

Which one did they like the best?

- The networks aren't buying Italians, Jews,

and Puerto Ricans this season.

They're buying gays, alcoholics, child molesters.

I can't relate to the characters.

You got anything with Nazis, maybe?

- Vic, I'm telling you this because I really like you:

you got no future in this business.

You son of a bitches are scared.

How's it going, boss?

I think I'm on a roll, Bruno, let's go.

I don't know, Bruno.

How come this crap gets on the air

and I can't sell a series?

What do they know out here, boss?

They ain't got no culture.

Yeah.

Hello, sir.

Oh, hi, Skip, how are you?

Thank God you're home.

We've been under siege.

First the painters, then the decorators.

I nearly had kittens.

Oh, Skip, this is great!

Real class, it's just what I wanted,

an exact replica of the Golden Nugget in Las Vegas.

Thank you, sir.

Now, where's my brother?

Upstairs in the den.

All right.

- Ollie, explain to me how you lose a 12-ton diesel rig!

Who leaves the motor running when they take a leak?

Your ass, "everybody,” look, find it, just find it.

Where the hell have you been

while the company's going down the tubes, huh?

- I was out making show business connections.

Oh, yeah?

Well, try and remember,

there's a trucking business that pays for this palace,

and that $3 bill secretary of yours, huh?

Look, Goody, lay off Skip,

he's going to get me into the right social circles out here.

- The right social circle is back in Newark,

which is where we ought to be right now.

- All right, come on, don't start this again, huh, Goody?

You know entertainment is in my blood.

Remember how I used to knock 'em dead

at family weddings with Volare?

Vic, you were six years old.

If you finished your broccoli,

they gave you a standing ovation.

Oh, come on, some people get their kicks

stomping on a dream.

- Look, Vic, I love you, I don't want to see you get hurt,

but I gotta tell you, all those scripts you wrote,

nobody's going to buy them.

A series about a pimp called Munzio's Girls?

A soap opera called Bayone?

All right, forget about art.

I wrote another one, very commercial,

it's called Sittin' Pretty, I know it,

I got this TV formula down now:

broads, boobs, horny guys, sex jokes, the works.

This is really commercial, I mean it...

- Do what you want, I don't care, but if you

don't sell something very soon, we're going back home.

Hey, Uncle Vic!

Hey, Rich.

- You mind if Bruno runs me over to my aerobics class?

Aerobics?

What the hell is happening to this family?

You've got one month!

Yeah, okay, Richie, go ahead.

Thanks, Uncle Vic.

- Uh, well, you see, Ms. Kester, I wouldn't be

calling at all except that I'm a little desperate.

In my opinion, there's something wrong

with your whole rating system.

Now, our best summer series is The Senator and Stinky,

and I just cannot imagine how

it could possibly have done that badly.

Statistically, we are accurate

within a 2.2% margin of error.

A zero share?

- Not one of the 1,500 Computron sets were tuned into it.

In short, nobody watched.

That's where you're wrong.

It just so happens, Ms. Kester,

that we received over 400 letters

from people complaining about the show,

so it's clear that somebody watched.

Well, none of the Computron households.

- Households, see, now that's the flaw in your system.

You don't take into account college dormitories,

hospitals, prisons, we get a lot of fan mail from

mental institutions, that doesn't turn up in your ratings.

- Look, Mr. Braithwaite, would you be complaining

if you had four shows in the top 10?

No, Ms. Kester, I wouldn't,

because I'd be dead from the shock.

Another happy customer.

Uh, Mr. Vandergelder, did you read my report?

The one about the phone surveys

to augment the computer data?

Oh, yes, yes, we'll get into that,

uh, Francine, but right now,

I'm in conference with Miss, uh, Conroy.

Yes.

I wouldn't want to interrupt a conference

with the office receptionist.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the star of MBC's number one comedy hit,

Gimme Five, 40 pounds of fun,

Woodrow T. Brown!

Gimme five!

I ain't never seen so many white people in one room.

So gimme five, gimme 10 on that one.

I'm here tonight to introduce our head honcho.

You know I must be talking about the president

of MBC Entertainment, Mr. Parker Braithwaite.

It's gooseflesh time!

I don't know about you affiliates,

but I'm excited, because I've seen the new fall lineup,

and I know that this is the year

that the MBC eagle

is really going to soar.

So now, without any further ado,

here's just a preview of what's in store, come September,

as we go for it!

By day, they're swingin' sexy aerobics instructors

at a Santa Monica health club known as H.O.T.B.O.D.S.

But, unknown to the public,

H.O.T.B.O.D.S. is a CIA code name,

for the Headquarters of the Bureau

of Organized Defense Security.

This elite force of female intelligence agents

defends America from the forces of evil.

Along with their chauffeur bodyguard,

They're known as H.O.T.B.O.D.S. and Levar.

What happens when Gary can't get into this man's army?

Well, he does the next best thing:

he joins this gal's army,

and becomes Wacked Out.

Wacked Out is going to be a monster.

It tested through the roof.

Tell them.