Dear Joseph Greco,
Hello to you, good sir. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alibaster Abthernabther. I am a champion yacht racer, hot air balloon enthusiast, blowgun marksman, habituated dolphin tamer, and Cheaters’s number one fan.
When I first heard that there was to be a television and motion picture writers’ strike, my heart sank to the pit of my intestinal cavity. What would become of all my new favorite television programs? What would happen to Back to You, Chuck, and Cavemen? Luckily I could supplant my overwhelming loss with reruns of my all time favorite According to Jim, but that will only fill so much of the void.
Then I remembered that your program is, as you state in the show’s grippingly jazzy introduction, “real reality television.” You have no need to employ writers, as the confrontational paramours that you broadcast are a part of “actual, true stories filmed live, documenting the pain of a spouse or lover caused by infidelity.”
However, it did occur to me that you may need someone to write those transfixing voiceover narrations that are a hallmark of the show (as is the "house pet lazily stumbling across piano keys" soundtrack). So please accept this communiqué as a formal offering of my writing services. I believe I am more than qualified. After all, I do own a Roget’s Super Thesaurus. Here is just a sample of what I could produce for you:
Day 3: Cheaters operatives observe the suspect and his unidentified companion patronizing a local alcoholic beverage establishment where they imbibe a superfluity of fluid intoxicants, sporadically halting their liquor consumption to engage in amorously copious saliva bartering.I await your response and look forward to this week’s episode, wherein a woman with dangerously modified mammary glands storms into Club Purgatory to catch her hairdresser boyfriend “frosting another client’s tips,” as it were.