Moron TV, or that Elvis bloke had taste.

So, you’re watching your favourite 20 episode TV mega series in HD. The protagonist and his sparky female sleuthing partner are hot on the trail of the evil genius. But he’s smart and outwits them. They’re at his mercy. But the protagonist, quite apart from having a magical T-shirt that dries 20 seconds after climbing out of a lake, is gutsy. Somehow he distracts the bad guy while his partner lunges for him.
A shot rings out.
She falls.
The bad guy gets away because the protagonist runs to his partners aid, his face white with shock, just to show us that he really cares more about her than closing the case, . He watches as blood seeps out from under her onto the concrete floor in a slowly expanding red puddle.
Could it be? Could it be that the writer has had the temerity to kill off one of the leads in episode 11?
Oh wow! What a show. Groundbreaking.
Credits roll. And then, up pops a montage.
“Next week on Shylock Unusual Bones The Mental Detective”
Three second excerpts flash in front of you. In the fifth, there’s the sparky female partner, arm in a sling, bravely running down another perp.
What is wrong with TV people?
Don’t they know the montage has just ruined all the suspense. For crying out loud, I don’t want to know what’s going to happen next week. Let me anticipate. Let me sweat at not knowing. Let me worry about the sparky female partner. That is the nature of the thriller, is it not?
And to add insult to injury, then there is the little voiceover teaser they give you 10 seconds before the program starts.
“And now in dead meat, Dave’s life takes a downward turn when he his decorating contract at the asylum brings him face to face with a serial killer with a penchant for painters.”
Duh!
That’s the bloody plot right there you idiots.
So please, I beg you, stop it.  Because sometimes I do not make it to the clicker quickly enough to change channels. And I feel like a real idiot putting my fingers in my years and singing a loud chorus of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang with my eyes shut until the moronic announcer shuts up and/or they  the ‘to come’ montages fades to an welcome advert–and I didn’t think I’d ever put advert and welcome together in the same sentence.

At the very least flash a big red sign across the screen that says ‘SPOILER ALERT’.
Please?
Otherwise I might just start a petition. Or shoot the damned TV like a certain person once did, uh-huh.

 

DC Farmer works for the Dept of Fimmigration as scribe.

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